#anyway. john's insane for this. (affectionate)

[certainlyathrill]

look at these losers they look like they stink

[hetchdrive]

Sorry to post about Farscape only to talk about whatever the hell is going on with Scorpius-that-lives-in-John's-brain but what. Oh my god. You expect me to just be normal about that? John's voice of self-preservation which he himself deliberates on calling his guardian angel is an evil guy who tortured him? And also he's a genetic mistake who is only allowed to continue existing in this militaristic culture because he's developed a specialized skillset and made himself useful? Huh? You expect me to be normal about this weird little freak of a man who shouldn't exist and who put himself inside someone else's head so he could continue to subconsciously interrogate him? But then that version of him protects John (so that the real Scorpius can someday collect the information he's been collecting from John's brain) from certain death and from somebody else torturing him??? Hello??? Can anyone hear me??? Is there anybody out there who can help me--

[jelliebeanbitch]

exploding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[foursaints]

hi <3

first of all, i wanted to tell you i'm always stalking your blog (in a non creepy way) because i love everything about it. mostly i love how you use your big brain™️ to share some insanely detailed headcanons about some silly dead gay wizards (i mean that in the nicest way possible. i'm a little bit in love with you actually . anyway i'm digressing)

second of all, i wanted to know if you could share some of your thoughts about bartylily🤲🏻 because i'm fairly sure you're the main reason i'm hooked on them

much love <333

ANYTHING for bartylily... lately i've been attached to the idea of a college au where they're Rival Campus Radio Station Hosts.

barty is a spectacularly unmotivated senior who dropped out of a prestigious engineering degree to study practical SFX for horror movies instead. everyone has vague, peripheral knowledge of him after an incident where he was found passed out naked in the campus fountain. his apartment with the slytherins isn't technically a frat house but there's a structure in the kitchen affectionately referred to as the "Leaning Tower of Miller Lite" & barty has a nearly imperceptible crescent-shaped chip in his front tooth from a keg-standing mishap. he wears a lot of chains and has several john carpenter themed tattoos and he REEKS like cigarettes. so many pairs of mystery panties turn up in his laundry hamper that his housemates have started calling it the Lost And Found.

he has a deeply beloved & charmingly unpolished radio show in the primetime spot which mostly consists of him having his friends on, spotlighting terrible underground bands, and making drily ironical, beautifully mean jabs.

lily is an overzealous sophomore who's triple-majoring in three equally unmarketable degrees (it's, like, polisci & international affairs & communications) who's blessed with the gift of taking every single thing that happens on campus WAY too serious. she runs their Model UN like it's the navy. she's the RA who is always marching around her floor in a spaghetti-strap tanktop & bunny slippers with a scrunchie on her wrist, shaking her fist at people. there was a period following her breakup with james where she was literally reading Machiavelli for inspiration. she's right on the precipice of the cool-girl academic meltdown that will lead to Serious Character Growth, but she isn't quite there yet.

her well-made and well-researched radio show is relegated to the midnight timeslot, and even though all her friends listen to it she probably got into a spat with them for saying something along the lines of "obviously i dont care if its just YOU listening to it, remus!!!". she hate-listens to barty's show which she considers (lily voice) An Affront To Collegiate Journalism

they trade barbs at every function and absolutely nobody but the two of them takes their insane imaginary Radio Beef even remotely serious whatsoever. but it's dead serious TO THEM!!! lily is probably camping out in actual bushes with actual binoculars to sabotage his show, and the worst part is that it's actually working. she ISN'T obsessed with him (shut up!!!!!), and barty is mostly just aggravated on principle that the Uptight Lowerclassman Ruining His Life has such nice legs.

and they absolutely bone like crazy about it

[marvelmaniac715]

Here’s what I remember about Modern Doctor Who episodes which I have never rewatched (it’s been quite a while since I watched all the episodes back to back at the end of last year and throughout this year) but there’s a character limit so I’m cut off:

The Unquiet Dead - Ghosts and Charles Dickens and Rose’s first trip to the past with Nine

Aliens of London/World War Three - Farting Slitheen family aliens, politics and Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North then Prime Minister (yes, I know who she is)

Dalek - I screamed when I saw a Dalek levitate up the stairs, Rose imprints on a museum Dalek, the Doctor tells a Dalek to die and we meet Adam

School Reunion - K9, Sarah Jane, brain boosting chips and kids who do coding

The Girl in the Fireplace - Reinette, “I’m the Doctor and I just snogged Madame de Pompadour”, banana daiquiri, ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’, fake drunk Doctor insulting Mickey with the adjective “thick” , a horse that the Doctor can’t keep and a spaceship (I’ve seen so many TikTok edits so I know more about this one despite only watching it once)

Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel - Rich Jackie in alternate world, living Pete, alternate Mickey, Rose the Yorkshire Terrier, Doctor and Rose as waiters, and the Cybermen

The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit - Satan himself, a possessed guy with pen on his face and introduction to the Ood

Love and Monsters - Absorvaloff, “wrong bucket”, LINDA, ‘Mr Blue Sky’, Jackie flirting with the protagonist and Elton John

Army of Ghosts/Doomsday - Cybermen, our first glimpse of modern day Torchwood, “I did my duty” and the devastating loss of Rose

Smith and Jones - Introduction to the BAMF Martha Jones, a platoon of Judoon on the moon and an old lady with a straw

Gridlock - Bad traffic, mood patches, Face of Boe says “You Are Not Alone” and a woman has a basket of cats with a cat man

Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks - Andrew Garfield, pig man, human Dalek, Empire State Building, Tallulah and the Great Depression (I distinctly remember sarcastically asking “is the Doctor going to stop the Great Depression?”)

42 - “Burn with me”, the sun and a quiz, aside from that I really don’t remember (hated this episode)

Blink - The Weeping Angels who give me the creeps, peeling off wallpaper to reveal a message from the Doctor, the Doctor’s dvd messages and Sally Sparrow (I physically cannot rewatch this because I instinctively stop blinking whenever I see the Angels and I don’t want my eyes to dry out so I’ll give this one a skip even though it is great)

The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End - Missing planets, Shadow Proclamation, insane vortex Dalek, Davros himself, a major epic team up with everyone from all over the Whoniverse and the devastating loss of Donna Noble’s memories

Planet of the Dead - “Hello, I’m the Doctor, happy Easter”, a bus, “He will knock four times” and Lady Christina (I think that’s her name anyway) being a thief and turned down flat when she tries to be a companion

The Beast Below - Happy and sad robot things and a very young looking Queen in space

Victory of the Daleks - Human Dalek guy, “Would you care for some tea?” and Winston Churchill being involved in a fight against Daleks

The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone - Return of River Song my QUEEN, Weeping Angels again, “That which holds the image of an angel becomes an angel” and the church army

The Vampires of Venice - Fish vampires, Venice, “then we will take your world” and the Doctor jumping out of a stag-do cake

Amy’s Choice - Dream pollen, Peruvian folk band with ponchos, pregnancy and sinister old people

The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood - Silurians, Amy being dressed for a much warmer country and a young boy who I affectionately dubbed ‘Exposition Child’ and promptly forgot the actual name of

The Lodger - Fake upstairs apartment, my city being the setting (not filmed there btw) and James Corden being… himself

The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang - Big villain team up, River becomes the sun, a fez is yeeted into the distance never to be seen again, plastic Roman Rory, Cleopatra River and the Doctor gives an epic speech

The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon - Child River, the Doctor dies and it’s very creepy

Night Terrors - Creepy dolls singing nursery rhymes, an old lady eaten by a bin, a man swallowed by his floor and an alien child overreacting to an extreme level

The Girl Who Waited - Old Amy and the Doctor lying to Rory to kill a version of Amy (not a cool thing to do)

Closing Time - Cybermen, Stormageddon, the Doctor working in a shop and James Corden 2: The Cordening

The Wedding of River Song - The Doctor doesn’t time so time goes weird, the Doctor gets hitched and I really can’t remember much else

The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe - Narnia ripoff with trees and Matt Smith falls out of a hammock then attempts to play it off like it was part of the scene in the script

Asylum of the Daleks - Dalek eye stalk on humans, Amy hallucinates whilst becoming a Dalek, a pointless divorce and Clara Oswin the soufflé making Dalek

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship - Dinosaurs and Rory’s amazing dad who has a trowel (also the Doctor has a Christmas list)

A Town Called Mercy - A horse called Susan who wants their owner to respect their life choices, the Doctor in a brand new hat and general Western vibes

The Angels Take Manhattan - Weeping Angel Statue of Liberty, more River and we lose Amy and Rory forever but there’s a nice mystery book with a foreword from Amy so it’s all okay

Cold War - Submarine and an Ice Warrior

Hide - 1970s ghost plot (didn’t like it)

Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS - FINALLY we see much more of the TARDIS!

Nightmare in Silver - Cybermen, ungrateful kids and Warwick Davis

Into the Dalek - Rusty says “You are a good Dalek”, Clara meets Danny Pink and cares so the Doctor doesn’t have to

Listen - Orson Pink, Dan the Soldier Man, the Doctor whips out his dad skills and fear is a superpower

Time Heist - Big bank heist and people with flat heads

Kill the Moon - Courtney from Coal Hill (glad she didn’t come back) and an uncomfortable allegory involving the moon being an egg

Mummy on the Orient Express - A train with a killing Mummy and Clara in a great outfit and bob haircut

Flatline - Rigsy, graffiti, tiny TARDIS with the Doctor trapped inside and scary vibes

In the Forest of the Night - Danny leads a school trip, there’s trees, one of the kids is played by the girl that used to voice Peppa Pig and I think at one point it tells kids not to take their medication? I got a bit confused with this one

Last Christmas - Santa and murdering dream worms

Under the Lake/Before the Flood - Bootstrap paradox monologue straight to camera (“Google it”), and the Doctor’s apology cards

Sleep No More - ‘Mr Sandman’ and eye crust

Oxygen - Capitalist space suits, a blue guy and the Doctor goes blind

The Pyramid at the End of the World/The Lie of the Land - The scary Monks rewrite history, Bill’s mum inadvertently changes things, Missy is iconic as always and Bill makes a bad deal

Empress of Mars - Ice Warriors and “God save the Queen” written on Mars

The Eaters of Light - Crows can talk, and Missy CRIES

The Woman Who Fell To Earth - We meet Thirteen and there’s a guy with teeth in his face

The Ghost Monument - Race and sunglasses

Arachnids in the UK - Spiders and Trump

The Tsuranga Conundrum - Pregnant man

Demons of the Punjab - Yaz’s grandmother and racism to aliens

It Takes You Away - Norway, Wooly Rebellion and talking frog

The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos - Teeth Guy

Resolution - Human woman possessed by a Dalek

Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror - Boredom

Fugitive of the Judoon - Fugitive Doctor and Judoon

Praxeus - Boring mould

Can You Hear Me? - Nightmares

Ascension of the Cybermen - Irish boy is the Doctor

Revolution of the Daleks - Captain Jack!

The Flux - Boring aside from Dan

The three specials - Timeloop, Sea Devils and regeneration

[fromkenari]

A mass of fools and knaves

The full email exchange between Alex Claremont Diaz and Prince Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor from Chapter Nine of Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. Put here for my best friend to read.

A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 1:04 AM to Henry H, Have you ever read any of Alexander Hamilton’s letters to John Laurens? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. You’d probably be disinherited for revolutionary sympathies. Well, since I got the boot from the campaign, there is literally nothing for me to do but watch cable news (diligently chipping away at my brain cells by the day) and sort through all my old shit from college. Just looking at papers, thinking: Excellent, yes, I’m so glad I stayed up all night writing this for a 98 in the class, only to get summarily fired from the first job I ever had and exiled to my bedroom! Great job, Alex! Is this how you feel in the palace all the time? It fucking sucks, man. So anyway, I’m going through my college stuff, and I find this analysis I did of Hamilton’s wartime correspondence, and hear me out: I think Hamilton could have been bi. His letters to Laurens are almost as romantic as his letters to his wife. Half of them are signed “Yours” or “Affectionately yrs,” and the last one before Laurens died is signed “Yrs for ever.” I can’t figure out why nobody talks about the possibility of a Founding Father being not straight (outside of Chernow’s biography, which is great btw, see attached bibliography). I mean, I know why, but. Anyway, I found this part of a letter he wrote to Laurens, and it made me think of you. And me, I guess: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you … Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some. Affectionately yrs, slowly going insane, Alex, First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 239-241). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 4:18 AM to A Alex, First Son of Masturbatory Historical Readings: The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me. Every time you mention your slow decay inside the White House, I can’t help but feel it’s my fault, and I feel absolutely shit about it. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to turn up at a thing like that. I got carried away; I didn’t think. I know how much that job meant to you. I just want to … you know. Extend the option. If you wanted less of me, and more of that—the work, the uncomplicated things—I would understand. Truly. In any event … Believe it or not, I have actually done a bit of reading on Hamilton, for a number of reasons. First, he was a brilliant writer. Second, I knew you were named after him (the pair of you share an alarming number of traits, by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c). And third, some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context. Are you angling for a revolutionary soldier role-play scenario? I must inform you, any trace of King George III blood I have would curdle in my very veins and render me useless to you. Or are you suggesting you’d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. If you did decide to take the option mentioned at the start of this email, I do hope you haven’t read the rest of this rubbish. Regards, Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 241-243). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 5:36 AM to Henry H, Please don’t be stupid. No part of any of this will ever be uncomplicated. Anyway, you should be a writer. You are a writer. Even after all this, I still always feel like I want to know more of you. Does that sound crazy? I just sit here and wonder, who is this person who knows stuff about Hamilton and writes like this? Where does someone like that even come from? How was I so wrong? It’s weird because I always know things about people, gut feelings that usually lead me in more or less the right direction. I do think I got a gut feeling with you, I just didn’t have what I needed in my head to understand it. But I kind of kept chasing it anyway, like I was just going blindly in a certain direction and hoping for the best. I guess that makes you the North Star? I wanna see you again and soon. I keep reading that one paragraph over and over again. You know which one. I want you back here with me. I want your body and I want the rest of you too. And I want to get the fuck out of this house. Watching June and Nora on TV doing appearances without me is torture. We have this annual thing at my dad’s lake house in Texas. Whole long weekend off the grid. There’s a lake with a pier, and my dad always cooks something fucking amazing. You wanna come? I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty sitting out there in the country. It’s the weekend after next. If Shaan can talk to Zahra or somebody about flying you into Austin, we can pick you up from there. Say yes? Yrs, Alex P.S. Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 243-245). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 8:22 PM to A Alex, If I’m north, I shudder to think where in God’s name we’re going. I’m ruminating on identity and your question about where a person like me comes from, and as best as I can explain it, here’s a story: Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery. At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince. His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole. Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too. So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right. Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.” I’m in for the lake house. I must admit, I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. I worry you may burn the thing down. Does this mean I’ll be meeting your father? I miss you. x Henry P.S. This is mortifying and maudlin and, honestly, I hope you forget it as soon as you’ve read it. P.P.S. From Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 245-247). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[blade-that-was-broken]

I genuinely dont know how you can make me go insane with literally all your fics.... like how are all of them so good?????? I literally want to bash my head open and scream into the sky so god can hear how much a love your stories

Anyways, I know you already have like a million wips and on-going fics but the Jd and "hallucination" Clay one is amazing and I need more to survive the winter (also anamnestic Jd and half-life, but again, million wips so I wont actually ask u to write more about them bcs actively upgrading all of this should be genuinely inhumane). The point is..... uhm, love your work youre a genius and I want to affectionately eat your work like a wild dog keep writing 😺👍

Not me almost busting into tears and falling flat on my face. Pffftttt that can’t be me. It has been months and several people and I just cannot for the life of me wrap my head around the fact that people really, actually, like my writing.

I know it's fanfic and the characters aren't mine (I'm really sad I can write fanfic but cannot for the life of me work out a plot for my original characters) but it blows my mind! I'm so freaking glad you like it. It makes me so happy ya'll literally have no idea. Warms this lonely friendless soul LOL (no need to bash ur head and scream, God can hear you just fine haha)

I didn't want to have a million wips but I shouldn't be surprised. The list of original characters I have... the wips are pretty on par with me in terms of numbers haha

When my brain allows, I try to write some Clay and JD stuff cause that just ajdshjsbdejw I love (when it’s not them on opposite sides, that’s not my jam) and it’s just….. hmmm yeah.

Things We Lost has amnesiac JD AND Clay xD lol it’s just a one shot but I went through a bit of an amnesia JD phase for a second there.

Divided Frame of Mind has JD and hallucinations - or rather, JD thinking he does. That’s a reunion one shot fic.

And as much as I shriek about John and Spruce in Half Life… John and Clay are just oooooofffff yes. I’m a bit scared to finish a drawing of them but one of these days I’d like to. Or some kind of drawing. Idk.

As for Something to Remember, I had something written up - just a bit - for them meeting up with Bruce but someone suggested something about Bruce and Clay finding out together so I'll probably scrap it. But I also might throw the snippets out here into the internet void, depending on how I feel.

But I love, love, love answering questions so honestly, if you have a question about anything, feel free. If I feel like it's too big of a spoiler - I'll just put warnings and under a reading break. But like for real, I'm an open book.

Thank you so much though. I am so freaking happy that you like my writing. I was friends with an aspiring author for a really long time and I never really thought of myself as much of a writer. We wrote stuff, of course, and eventually I wrote fanfic (started off in Star Wars. It was a hard hitter haha) but I never really considered myself much you know, writer-y so it's truly crazy to me seeing people like my stuff.

[marc--chilton]

"chase was super receptive tho bc he has issues and imprinted on house like an actual duckling" YES I CONCUR.

i also agree with your characterization that it's a "i am going to be nice to you more often but don't get any ideas" type of relationship rather than a "come to mama" type. i love fluff and all, but it's house. the man is not that affectionate or nice or pleasant. mgv wouldn't change that.

but the chase/thirteen sibling relationship is so real. i love that. i need more fics with that.

kutner being left out :( he's like. replacement chase. that's the role he fills. in that he's the dumb one. but he's also kinda replacement cameron because he's also nice.

anyway i love your mgv it's so good i love house abo when it's done well and this is done well.

does house ever bring gisele to work with him? or would cuddy say "absolutely not are you insane"

have a splendid day!

-🎸

like there are times where house is weirdly nice to chase and thirteen but that's just like. bc he's closing in on his heat and despite common perception, heat does not solely mean "sex now" especially if the omega in question is a parent. and chase likes the attention but even he has to shoo house away if he's getting too affectionate to the point of impeding their jobs (pup or not, there's not a lot of house-duckling hanging out with after work hours. like at all. the most is with thirteen and even then they're not like superbesties or anything, she's just his favorite to fall back on when house can't drag wilson into whatever that day)

he still calls them idiots, he's still a huge dickhead, but he also does more for them than for others. which tends to just be something so small as house making a vending machine run and asking them if they want anything too. the bar's pretty low

chase takes this weird found family type thing to heart, and it's obvious. because daddy issues. to the point where he's actually spent a heat or two with house because when he first presented, chase didn't get the right care from his parents so his hindbrain looked to house to fill that role. awkward? incredibly. did house agree? yes. did he do a good job mothering an adult chase and giving him all those parental affirmations he missed out on? not really. but he absolutely tried, and that was enough for chase, so. success!

(worth noting that house, too, did not receive adequate care when he first presented either. john ignored him entirely for his cycles, physically disgusted and uncomfortable, and blythe as a low-instinct beta didn't understand the nuances required for taking care of a child who presented as an omega)

kutner <333 i don't have anything to say there besides i love him. he's kind of like chase for dumb, cameron for nice, but he also has a je ne sais quoi of chaos that's to die for. he was way too jazzed to dig a grave and way too proud of himself for reviving a patient even tho in doing so he also set her on fire. baby boy how on earth did you get through med school <333 he's also a beta for what it's worth. in my mgv betas tend to be the most alike to real humans (no/weak cycles, less instinct-driven, sometimes thought of as "safe" or "boring" by As or Os) so don't get involved in as much drama so like. he kinda confused but he got the spirit

110% house has brought giselle to work. the first year of her life he was especially attached to her and argued against hiring a sitter or putting her in daycare -- saying daycares were just communal cultures waiting to infect his pup with superflu, or a sitter would confuse her and make her imprint on them instead of house or wilson -- when really due to his prior miscarriage and resulting (mostly not dealt with) trauma meant his hindbrain would freak out if he was away from her for too long. cuddy and wilson both actually get on to him for it (wilson less so. he's biased bc he also loves their lil baby to bits) but the only thing that gets him to stop trying to bring her is when she starts getting sick the same time house's current case proves to be infectious. and he's mortified because he's convinced she's caught (insert disease here) because of him, and she's so little still that this illness could conceivably kill her.

it turns out she doesn't have the sick of the week, it was just normal baby illness that scared him like it would any first time parent. definitely got him to stop bringing giselle in as much though.

thank you for this ask!! love an excuse to absolutely yap it out

[hellhoundlair]

Happy wincest Wednesday! Regarding stuff like outsider POV, do you think Sam and/or Dean are aware that from the outiside their relationship seems incredibly insane and weird (affectionate). Especially in the early seasons or pre series, having grown up incredibly isolated, basically on top of each other and not having ANY healthy relationship to compare to, how do you think they would react to someone (like a hunter, maybe someone they know, maybe an irrelevant love interest, idk) bringing this up?

and a happy ww to you! i think they know! they know theyre weird and people can tell that about them and theyve decided from a young age that they dont really care what other people think. yet at the same time i feel like they dont truly understand the depths of what makes the look weird from an outsider pov/whats abnormal for siblings because they dont have anything normal to compare themselves to.

itd b pretty well established in the hunter community that sam and dean are a package deal, which you usually only ever see with married couples. if you didnt know john winchester beforehand and you met sam and dean youd probably just assume they were gay together. and you wouldnt be wrong. If another hunter brought this up around either of them theyd correct them and brush it off because haha what a funny misunderstanding anyway sam where did you put our toothbrush i cant find it. (Id think hunters would understand if they knew the way sam and dean were raised, they know that they were trained as soldiers as children and how damaging that mustve been, so they mostly dont judge each other for not fitting in. maybe they feel something more like pity. and definitely discomfort)

with a love interest bringing it up its a little different. if theyre trying to hit on someone and they get hit with the "you sure your boyfriend doesnt mind?" i dont think theyd bother correcting them. And in the context of them having a mutual pining thing i think theyd get a thrill from it. if its a pre relationship thing and they get faced with those sorts of questions i think thatd really help them figure out that they like the idea of belonging to each other.

questions from more serious love interests (the scene with lisa talking about sam coming back comes to mind) would be a lot more confronting though. ppl pointing out that theyre weird and way too close would rub them the wrong way. theyd get closed off and defensive because how the fuck could anyone ever understand what they have. especially when its people trying to tell them that its unhealthy (they know. they dont care) pointing it out or trying to keep them apart only serves to push them further into each other and their alienation from society.

[silly-cheese-rat]

someone who loves homestuck and microapple as much as i fucking do? @?!?! @? # BRING IT IN DAMNIT‼️‼️‼️‼️ ♦♦♦

No way, both Homestuck and Microapple... I didn't expect that, but this is actually the second time I'm seeing someone like this...

While I DO ship Microapple and draw it and talk abt it still, I am so sorry to tell you that I'm some type of impostor bc I ended up mainly shipping smth I affectionately call "Aspenshipping" instead — which is nothing else than John Sculley x Steve Jobs ("Aspen" Soda was an apple flavored drink sold by PepsiCo before Sculley switched from said company over to Apple). Idk how caught up you are on "the lore", so the thought of shipping those two might seem insane to you. But I'm sure you're not here to hear abt that.

Anyways, I'm glad to see yet another person who keeps the good ol' ship still afloat. It's just undeniable and the first thing that pops up in your mind as soon as you see and/or hear abt Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. Before you know it you find yourself falling down that hole. The final kick in the stomach for me was when Steve Jobs bluntly said he and Bill Gates have been secretly married for over a decade already. Why would you say that !!! What a freak ((highly affectionate))

[sarawritesx]

Someone would call her insane for wanting to go back. What was there to go back to, anyway? Only pain and suffering, in all that dark, constantly fearing for your life and lives of everyone around you. But it was all she knew... Natalia couldn't stop thinking about everyone there. Kyle, first and foremost. Then John. Her whole medical team. The kids, oh... All of the wounded she was helping recover and get back on their feet. So many people left behind.

Somewhere deep down she knew her hope was overexaggerated. But it died the moment she saw something in his eyes change. Kyle didn't even have to say anything, she already knew the answer. Still, it felt like a punch right to her gut as he confirmed the worst news in that moment for her, they couldn't go back, while elaborating why is that. Eyes spoke more than words a lot of times, and hers seemed lost and devastated. She was cracking on the inside, and thank god he was holding her right now, because she needed it.

Wrapping her arms around his neck tightly and her chin resting onto his shoulder, she held onto him desperately. Natalia cried in silence, there was no sobs, or heavy breaths, her tears just rolled down the cheeks as she tried to make sense of it all. "I don't know what are we supposed to do here."she finally spoke and only it could be heard in her voice just how much of a mess she was. "Here, there's so much light, color, all this life... People smile at you on the street. They are not afraid. And I... I don't know how to live in their world."Nat chocked out in the end.

And how was he going to do it? They've both been in survival mode for so long now, and he spent more time out there, where the danger was, than at the camp. How does a soldier like him adjust to a life like this if she struggled herself? Or could day maybe, just maybe, change the course of the future? It sounded so insane, but what was normal about this whole situation, anyway? Pulling back to look at him, her hands landed on the sides of his face and rubbed it affectionately. "But we'll manage. Together. Life really likes to test us, right? But, we'll be okay."Nat mused, mostly trying to give herself a pep talk. "Kyle, you hungry? I, uh, I've been experimenting a little last night. When you're hungry and have too much to choose from, a person gets overwhelmed. But I can heat it up, and we can sit down and just... talk. Or I can show you around the place." @thedevilsbckbone

Kyle wanted to stubbornly protest but forced himself to bite his tongue. He knew Natalia well enough to know she would not budge on her stance no matter how much he believed he took the fault. So he let out a small sigh in response, meeting her gaze with an understanding one of his own, giving a curt nod. Truth was, no one could have predicted this all happening to be able to prevent it. Or at least, that was what Kyle believed but little did the soldier know, a plan had been set into motion long before they went on the raid that morning.

He followed her inside, it was nothing like he'd ever seen before. He almost felt uncomfortable, moving carefully to try not to touch anything for fear of breaking or disrupting its pristine visage. He stood there, watching her instead. Her line of questioning confused him for a moment, as he realized he'd never really gave much thought about it. "No - I didn't really ask. The moment I realized you were here, my only priority was coming to find you and make sure you were safe." He admitted. To Kyle, it didn't matter how John had found the information, he was just relieved that he had.

The moment she seemed to fully take in the realization of the portal being found by the rest of the group, Nat was gripping Kyle's arm desperately as she asked about going back. The hope that shined in her eyes made Kyle's heart ache in grief - knowing he was about to have to shatter that. He dropped his head, giving out another smile sigh. "Nat-" he began, licking his lips as he glanced back at her, his gaze apologetic and a small frown tugging at his lips. "I'm sorry - but there's no going back. John wasn't sure what the machines had made the portal for but we couldn't risk it remaining open and them getting a hold of it again. So the plan was, after I came through, they were going to destroy it. I'm so sorry." He said, pulling her back into him as he wrapped his arms around her. "But I'm here and I promise you I'll make sure you're safe."

His mission first and foremost had been to find Natalia but now that he had, a new idea began to form in his head. They couldn't go back to the future, and truthfully, there was some relief to that. To the knowledge that Nat would not have to live day to day in a bleak world where death awaited their kind at ever corner. They had time before D-day, time for him to try and find a way to stop it from happening. Maybe he could make it where she lived a long and happy life with no fear of machines taking over or slowly starving to death. She could die old, in bed surrounded by her loved ones, like she deserved. The idea warmed his heart and Kyle knew that was his true purpose. | @utterxdesires

[harrylovex]

SPIN THE BOTTLE

summary: chris is shy around you until he gets drunk...

warnings: fluff, kissing, alcohol usage, chris being handsy ;)

a/n: playing spin the bottle with chris would just be a dream 😩😩😩 especially if there is sexual tension between the two of you, gaaaawwwdd this is what i’m dreaming about tonight

it was your friend emily’s 35th birthday and she was having a huge party at her house.

everyone you knew was going, including your favourite person in the whole world, chris evans.

you two had been introduced to eachother at a summer barbecue a few years back by emily, and you had been pining after him pretty much since then.

you and him had hung out with eachother a few times at other gatherings and you got on really well, but chris was shy around you.

he was reserved around everyone really, it had nothing to do with you. it was his nature.

but, when he would get drunk, it would be like something in him switched. his shyness would completely disappear and he became the life of the party.

you knew that chris secretly did like you, he would never admit it sober though. on the occasions when he would get drunk, which was pretty much every party, he would get really handsy with you.

he would keep you with him all the time, holding your hand and squeezing your hips, pulling you onto his lap whenever he sat down. he liked to be protective over you, and you cherised every minute of it. it was the only time when you could be close to him.

a few times, chris had kissed you, taking you by surprise. it would usually happen when you had to leave, a long goodbye kiss, his hands grabbing at your waist as he moaned into your mouth.

both of you remembered everything that happened when you were drunk, but it was never brought up.

you had never met anyone nicer than chris. he was incredibly charming and down to earth, always thinking of other people before himself, not to mention unbearably handsome and sexy.

emily knew how much you liked chris, she had spoken to him about it before, asking him questions about you, but he was never one to talk about his feelings. he liked to keep it private.

you turned up to emily’s and her husband opened the door, greeting you.

you stepped inside, eyes landing on emily in the kitchen. you made your way over to her.

“happy birthday!” you embraced her in a hug, shoving her present into her hands.

“y/n thank you so much! let me get you a drink.”

she led you over to the drinks table, pointing to an array of wines. as she prepared you a glass, your eyes scanned the room.

“no point in looking for chris. he’s not here yet.”

you blushed, embarrassed at being caught. emily just laughed, handing you the glass.

“i’m making us all play some fun college games tonight. it’s time you and chris got together.”

you laughed, wondering what she was planning.

you spoke to a few of your friends, catching up on what had been going on in their lives.

“chris! hey you look great!”

you had your back turned to the door, but you knew by the sound of chris’ voice that he had just arrived. your palms started to turn a little sweaty.

pull yoursef together y/n, you thought to yourself.

you quickly finished your conversation, turning to find chris.

he was by the bar cart, grabbing a beer. he was wearing a white long sleeved t-shirt and some blue jeans. the t-shirt was insanely tight and left little to the imagination.

you inhaled deeply before walking towards him. he caught your eye before stepping towards you.

“y/n hey! long time no see!” his eyes lit up, embracing you in a huge hug.

you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you shut your eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his hands squeezing your hips slightly.

“how have you been?” you asked, leaning beside him on the counter.

“busy with work, i’ve been looking forward to this party for ages.”

your conversation flowed easily as he sipped his beer. he asked about your work and your family until a few other guests arrived.

throughout the rest of the evening, you mingled with your friends, sipping through a few glasses of wine.

the lounge was crowded with people, all chatting happily. you peeked at chris a few times, seeing him laugh at a joke emily’s husband was telling.

he caught your eye sometimes, smiling cheekily at you as he raised his sixth beer bottle of the night, poking his tongue out before swallowing the liquid.

you realised that the alcohol had reached his system around an hour later when you felt a pair of hands slide over your hips, soft lips kissing your ear. you were leaning elbow-first against the island in the kitchen, your back to everyone else.

you smiled to yourself before turning around, knowing that you would find yourself face to face with chris.

the feeling of his lips against your ear tickled, making you laugh. you spun yourself around, holding onto his biceps as his hands rested on the counter on each side of you.

“chris you are so drunk!”

he smirked, licking his lips. his eyes were incredibly dilated, his cheeks rosy.

“so...? i’m having fun.”

“i can tell...why have you taken a sudden interest in me then? had enough of everyone else?”

“well, everyone is super boring, and i haven’t spoken to you in a few hours. plus, i like talking to pretty girls like you.”

you laughed, moving your hands from his biceps to his chest.

“you have no filter when you’re drunk.”

he smiled, grabbing your hand in his.

“i need to go for a piss, come with me?”

“ugh chris, you sure do know how to impress a girl with that language.”

“so is that a no?” he pouted.

“i never said that.” you mumbled, making him smirk.

he grasped your hand tighter, pulling you upstairs towards the bathroom.

you fixed your hair in the mirror while chris relieved himself, laughing at him when he nearly fell over.

you stood to the side as he washed his hands, staring at him through the mirror.

once he had finished, he pulled you towards him, burying his face in your neck as he gripped your hips.

“god you smell so delicious.” he mumbled.

“so do you.” you smiled, running your hands through his hair.

“and you look gorgeous in that dress, it’s making me go crazy.”

you laughed, pulling chris’ face up so you could see his eyes.

“chris you would never say or do any of this if you were sober.”

“haven’t you ever heard of that saying? sober thoughts are drunk words. i can never bring myself to do this stuff when i’m sober, i get shy easily.” his eyes darted from yours for a second.

“well there’s no need for that, you must know by now that this thing we’ve got going on is mutual right?”

he laughed, nodding.

“i guess yeah, the things we do drunk you never mentioned afterwards so i just sort of put it to the back of my mind.”

“i never mentioned it because i know how shy you are when you’re sober.”

“okay well, we’ll talk about this later yeah? work something out.”

you smiled, pulling at his ears. “fine.”

he entwined his hand with yours again, pulling you out of the bathroom.

just as you walked out, emily came rushing up the stairs.

“guys! we’ve been looking everywhere for you...” she paused, looking at your hands suspiciously. “did you just have sex in my bathroom?” she smirked.

“no!” you said defensively.

chris just smirked.

“whatever...come down to the lounge, the foods here.”

you walked behind emily, swatting at chris’ hands when he tried to pinch your butt everytime you took a step down.

you grabbed yourself another glass of wine, silently watching as chris got himself another beer, he was going to have such a hangover tomorrow.

you went to sit yourself down at the table, but not before chris grabbed your waist, pulling you up.

“what are you doing?”

“i want you to sit with me.” he pouted.

“you’re such a simp.”

he laughed, not seeming bothered by your comment.

you sat next to him throughout dinner, using a single fork to feed yourself as chris had occupied himself with holding your left hand in his lap.

you smiled as you ate, hoping that tonight could be the night when he got over his fear of being embarrassed to show affection when sober.

everyone chatted through dinner, not bothered by you and chris being affectionate. they were used to it by now.

afterwards, emily ordered everyone to sit in a circle in the lounge. no one protested because they were all pretty much drunk, going along with the game.

chris pulled you into his lap, kissing your temple.

“you two, no sitting-in-laps allowed. not for this game anyway.”

you laughed, moving to sit next to chris. he wasn’t happy about the seating change, pulling you as close to him as he could.

“okay i’ve been reminiscing about the good old college days, so tonight we’re gonna play spin the bottle.”

some of the guests groaned, rolling their eyes.

you looked at chris, but he just winked at you.

emily placed one of the empty beer bottles in the middle of the circle, spinning it quickly.

you watched as it spun round, everyone silently waiting.

it landed on john, who was sitting across from you. the guests um’ed and ah’ed as john crawled into the middle of the circle, leaning over to give emily a quick peck.

emily laughed, clapping her hands. “okay! who’s next?”

it went on like that for a while, boys kissing girls, boys kissing boys and girls kissing girls.

when it got to your turn, it landed on brad, who was sitting near chris. you heard chris inhale deeply, making you smirk.

you reached over, giving brad a small peck whilst he smiled greedily at you. chris never let go of your hand, his grip tightening.

you sat back laughing a little at chris who looked like he was about to lose his shit in the next three seconds.

“chris, relax.” you kissed his cheek, shuffling closer to him.

“i fucking hate this game.” he mumbled in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“chris! stop being a dick and spin! it’s your turn.”

you laughed at the comment made by john. chris kept a straight face as he spun the bottle, his fingers tapping on your knee.

it landed on you. you felt everyone’s eyes on you as you looked up at chris, who was now smiling like an idiot.

your hand went to his cheek as he leaned in to capture your lips with his.

after the peck, you went to pull away but chris held the back of your neck firmly, kissing you harder.

you laughed in your head, kissing him back enthusiastically.

“okay guys...guys! get a room for god’s sake.”

you felt a pair of hands pull at your shoulders, pulling you and chris apart.

everyone was staring at you two, laughing hard. a rush of embarrassment washed over you and you blushed, looking over to chris.

he was still smiling, enjoying himself.

you tried to keep a straight face as you slapped chris’ chest softly, but he grabbed your hand and made you laugh.

“what? i saw an opportunity and took it.” he kissed your knuckles as you smiled.

a few more rounds were played, but you could see that chris was getting bored. to be honest, so were you, you wanted to get chris alone.

finally, a few people got up to leave as it was getting late. emily ordered a few taxis while pulling you to the side.

“you and chris can sleep here tonight if you want. i prepared the spare bedroom just in case. a few of us are hanging out in the lounge but the garden is free if you want some space.” she winked.

you laughed, thanking her for being so understanding.

“oh and by the way, i’m not letting you two back in the house until you sort yourselves out.”

you rolled your eyes, walking back over to chris who was waiting by the sofa.

he was still drunk, but less so. his eyes were bloodshot and he looked tired.

he stayed silent, pulling you in for a hug as you waved goodbye to the guests.

“emily said that we can sleep here tonight if you want? she prepared the spare bedroom.”

“that sounds like a great idea. i don’t think i’m sober enough to go home anyway.”

you laughed. “can we go and sit outside by the fire?”

chris nodded, pulling you towards the back doors.

the fireplace was already running, chris dragged a chair as close to it as possible, plumping up the pillows before lifting you effortlessly onto his lap.

you draped your legs over his thighs, resting your head on his chest.

“you’re quiet. what are you thinking about?” you questioned him, your fingers tapping his collarbone.

he laughed under his breath, sitting up straighter.

“i was just thinking about earlier. how you said that you feel the same. is that true?”

“chris, of course it’s true. do you really not see it?”

“well most of the time i just think that it’s because we’re drunk.”

“it’s not, i promise. the reason i only show affection at parties is because i know how difficult it is for you sober.”

he smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

you turned your head to look at him. “emily’s been trying to get us together ever since we met.”

“seriously?”

you laughed, running your hand along his abs, over his t-shirt.

“yeah, she’s obsessed with us.”

chris laughed, kissing the top of your head. the two of you fell silent for a few minutes.

you were relishing in the feeling of chris’ cheek pressed against the top of your head when he spoke again.

“so...what do you say we give it a try then? you know...“ he paused. “this whole relationship thing.”

you looked up at him, smiling. “mr evans...are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

he smirked. “maybe i am...do you accept?”

“yeah...yes i do. i would love to be your girlfriend.”

he started smiling widely, pulling you closer to him so he could reach your lips.

he pressed his lips against yours, his hand running up and down your back.

you smiled into the kiss, parting your lips a little to give him access.

he saw the opportunity and took it, pushing his tongue into your mouth to meet yours.

you pulled back after a while, breathing heavily.

“if i knew you could kiss like that i would’ve asked you out ages ago.”

you laughed, snuggling back down into his chest. you inhaled deeply, smiling to yourself as you eyes started to close.

tags: @before-we-get-started

[inkybinkyboink]

anyways so clopin

i was thinking about him being a guardian figure for everyone him meeting esemerelda and immediately going “we’re siblings now” and they are!!!!! hes like an older brother. they paint nails. they have bitch and braid sessions. they commit arson together like theyre a package fucking deal. he’s ready to be there for her  24/7 365 like if she needed him in australia at 4 in the morning he would be there. 

esmerelda starting to date phoebus and clopin immediately being like “if you hurt her ill fucking kill you” but then they grow on each other and clopin isnt an echo chamber for esme, if she has an argument with phoebus he looks at the situation in a neutral light and tells it like it is. phoebus being this like 30 year old whos kind of had nothing but chaos in his life up until then, and clopin being this calming presence, like man definitley has his wild moments no doubt, but hes by no means immature or excitable. clopin begrudgingly driving phoebus home and they stop at the store and xyz happens and out of nowhere phoebus starts having a panic attack and they rush back to the car where its quiet and clopin talks him down and its a fucked up bonding moment :)

clopin being the older brother/father figure quasi never had. man is the backup if Esmeraldas busy. I feel like the second trust is built between him and another person he gets really affectionate which is good in quasis case bc man needs a lot of physical reassurance and hugs. I want quasi and clopin baking together.

I want clopin ordering for someone if they're too anxious to order no questions asked. he picks up a kid so they can see the menu.

man reads and reads and reads holy shit he has so many books

give me clopin being a dad but not like the way phoebus is a dad, like a sage old man with a paternal essence. he’s patient, and listens, and thinks quickly. he’s witty and protective and caring but also still able to have fun and joke. clopin’s the type of guy to joke in a dark scenario. he could be going in for like open heart surgery and just before the anesthesia knocks him out he goes “remember. you’re operating on my heart” and then he blacks out like he has the ability to make light of any dark situation.

man definitely did community theatre as a kid

and probably dance too hhhhh little clopin tap dancing

stopped after he fucked up his ankle and it clicks permanently now

clopin sitting with one leg crossed over the other reading a magazine

Will give someone his food even if it means he goes hungry

definitely a "are you hurt" "no" kind of guy

oh man clopin during the past few years? man wears the FUNKIEST masks

makes them himself or buys them from independent artists

listens to the WEIRDEST music

like,,,, you think he listens to like rock or some shit and it's fucking Tibetan throat singing remixed with John Williams or something insane

clopin not liking Phoebus AT ALL and then after years and years of knowing him it eventually culminates to the two guys falling asleep on each other in the back of a car on a roadtrip.

he has the WEIRDEST scars like someone's like shit man what are all those scars on your hand and he's like "yknow it's funny I actually fell off my porch into the brambles-"

ufhdhshsh I just love him ok.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

jake english for the ask game ? :)

OF COURSE KING!!!!!

First impression: hmmm extremely indifferent (i read homestuck when i was like 14 and was not yet super into character analysis)

Impression now: oh he is such a mess (affectionate). the friend everyone has a crush on for no reason but he's too clueless to realize and breaks everyone's hearts. i think he is genuinely a really really good guy but he has no concept of what is acceptable in social situations (grew up alone on an island surrounded by monsters) so he comes off as kind of callous and mean sometimes without meaning to be. i love this about him. super gullible but also rlly smart. we have the same awful taste in movies (derogatory) (affectionate)

Favorite moment: HMMMMMMMM this is a hard one. i am a [s] game over enjoyer. the moment where he tried to save jane and got killed anyway made me so sad. i also rlly enjoy his pen pal letter to john i think its nice :]

Idea for a story: im gonna use this as an excuse to plug hsmc au by myself and roswell @snwchester bc its incredibly funny. he and dirk are the dnf of hsmc. oh my god they were roommates

Unpopular opinion: a lot of the fandom characterizes him kindaaaa. weird. when people make him the like. uber confident sexy guy that's a lil weirdchamp and ooc in my opinion. hes just as much of an insane loser (affectionate) as the rest of them. i mean his favorite movie is the james cameron avatar come on

Favorite relationship: will i get burned at the stake if i say dirkjake. i think they have good potential. they r so messy and maybe a little unhealthy but they have such good potential

Favorite headcanon: i think hes rlly good at biology. he knows a lot abt plants an animals just like. inherently.

[lilliagradiewrites]

surprise? (jj maybank)

Summary: You’re John B’s sister, and you’ve been dating JJ in secret for months. What happens when John B sees a hickey on your neck, and realizes his best friend has been making on his little sister?

WC: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Hickey/ mentions of sexy time, cursing, mentions of violence

A/N: Another JJ one shot! This one has been sitting half-finished in my collection for a while now, so tonight I decided to complete it! I’m such a sucker for a brother’s best friend moment, so I knew I had to write a JJ x Routledge! reader fic. i hope you all like it!

PS: Thank you so much for all the love on evermore, my last fic!! It was so well received, and has gotten more recognition than anything else I've ever uploaded. I’m so thankful!!

I love you all so so much, and I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

Neither you nor JJ could pinpoint the exact moment it began.

Being John B’s younger sister, you had known the blonde boy for basically your entire life. In seventh grade, you had developed a slight crush on JJ. He was the older, popular boy that cracked funny jokes; how could you not like him? You had always thought he was cute, but you started seeing him in a different light around the age of twelve.

The crush quickly faded away, and you found yourself with many boyfriends and flings over the years. Looking back on it now, you don’t think your feelings JJ ever truly went away… you had just forced yourself to forget them.

For JJ, the feelings developed around his sophomore year, when you were a freshman. For the vast majority of his life, he’d seen you every day when he inevitably made his way to the chateau. He’d cared about you, of course, but no more than a ‘I care about her because she’s my best friends little sister’ kind of way.

He has a vivid memory of you, the morning after he’d had a sleepover with your brother. He was sitting on the couch with John B, having a conversation about some stupid guy thing he couldn’t even recall now. He remembers seeing you walk out of your room, having just woken up, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you didn’t have on any makeup.

He couldn’t explain why, but you looked so damn beautiful to him that day. You never noticed him staring at you, but John B did. JJ remembers his friend’s brows furrowing.

“What the hell are you staring at?” After following JJ’s gaze, his eyes widened. “Are you looking at my sister, man? Cut that shit out.”

“No, of course I wasn’t. I was looking out the window. Chill, bro.” JJ had quickly denied the claims of his friend, who didn’t entirely believe him but chose not to say anything else on the topic. After that day, JJ tried his best to avoid staring at you, but it was always hard for him.

Within a month after that incident, you began hanging out with the Pogues more and more. They quickly became your best friends, and you loved them all more than anything. They all helped you and John B through the disappearance of your father, and you were eternally grateful.

Naturally, you found yourself growing the closest with Kie. Being the only two girls, it made the most sense for the two of you to be very close. Kiara was like a sister and a best friend all in one, and you loved her very much.

Pope was always great. He kept you and the rest of the pogues in check, making sure you remained safe and made smart decisions. John B, of course, was your older brother, and you were very close with him. You had your frustrations with the brunette, however. One thing that always pissed you off about John B was how insanely protective he was. He would threaten any guy whose eyes lingered too long on you at a party, and it took years of convincing to allow him to let you go on a date. You loved him, of course, and knew he was always trying to keep you safe, but you couldn’t help but be frustrated with him sometimes.

And then there was JJ. You didn’t even know what to think when it comes to the blonde boy. You had always noticed something special about him, and felt slightly different towards JJ then all the other boys. For some reason, the both of you kept your distance from each other. Maybe, you both knew in the back of your mind that if you got too close, there’d be no pulling you apart.

One night at a party, you had gotten absolutely wasted. Kiara had gone home with some girl, Pope’s dad didn’t let him come, and John B was nowhere in sight, meaning it was up to JJ to take care of you. He brought you home, cleaned you up, and put you into bed. In your intoxicated state, you let your walls fall down. You told Jj how you felt about him, too drunk to worry about the consequences.

Fortunately for you, the feelings were reciprocated. JJ said that he felt the same way, and he’d been keeping his distance from you because of strict commands from John B. “Anytime I’d get close to you, or even be ‘too friendly’ towards you, I’d get the whole ‘my sister is off limits’ lecture, I was tired of hearing it, and I didn’t think you felt the same anyways.”

That night was the beginning of a long journey. He kissed you, and you were happier than you’d ever been. He ask you to be his girlfriend, and you happily said yes. There was only one issue with the whole situation.

Your stupid, overdramatic, overprotective brother.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him for a while?” Jj suggested after much contemplation on both of your parts. “See where this goes. If it gets super serious, we’ll obviously tell him, but it’s probably best to keep it on the down low for now.”

Though hesitant, you eventually agreed, deciding it was the best decision for now. You hated lying to your brother, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

Six months passed after that night. You and JJ’s relationship grew stronger and more serious with each passing day, but neither of you had the guts to tell your brother. So, you kept dating in secret, the relationship only between the two of you.

Oh, right. And Kie.

JJ had gotten into a habit of sneaking into your bedroom window late at night. He rarely got any time with just the two of you, and even when you hung out with your friends, he wasn’t able to be as affectionate as he wished he could be. One morning, Kiara arrived at the chateau earlier than usual, bursting into your room to find you asleep, wrapped in your boyfriend's arms.

The brunette woke the two of you up with a loud exclamation of “What the fuck?”

JJ kissed you goodbye and scrambled out the window before John B heard anything, and you sat Kie down and explained the whole situation, making her promise not to tell anyone.

Especially not John B.

Kiara, being the amazing person she is, swore secrecy and squealed about how happy she was for the two of you.

Kie’s knowledge of the relationship is part of the reason she insists on waking you up one morning at the chateau. She and Pope had stayed the night, as well as JJ. JJ was nowhere to be found, but the group just assumed that he had run home to grab spare clothes or something.

Well, the boys assumed that.

Kie knew better.

Her suspicions were completely confirmed when she entered your room to find you and JJ cuddled together, just like all those months ago when she had first found out.

“Wake up, guys! JB and Pope are awake. JJ, hop out the window and pretend you went to get clothes from your house. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Immediately, you and your boyfriend were launching up out of the bed. He followed his usual routine of kissing you goodbye and then jumping out of the window. You thanked Kie before beginning to search for your swimsuit.

“You’re welcome, babes. And by the way, I’d make sure to cover up that fatass hickey on your neck before walking out of this room.”

Kie gives you a wink before walking out of the room and closing the door, leaving you there with red cheeks and wide eyes.

You moved immediately to your mirror, and examined the left side of your neck. Sure enough, there it was: a large bruise that JJ had taken his sweet time on the night before. You huffed, recalling when he was giving it to you.

“JJ, don’t.” You breathed, lightly pushing him off you. “You can’t leave marks, everyone will see.”

“Let them see.” He lifted his lips off your neck to look you in the eyes. “I’m tired of hiding that you’re mine. I want everyone to know that you’re taken, by me. Let them see, babe, I don’t care.”

For a moment, he had you agreeing with him. Who cares if everyone finds out? They’d just find out eventually anyways. What’s the difference if they find out sooner rather than later?

But, you eventually cam to your senses. “I’m tired of hiding too, J. We’ll tell them soon, but I don’t want my brother to find out I’m with his best friend by seeing the hickey his best friend gave me.”

JJ paused his movements for the second time, breathing and thinking for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” He bites your earlobe, then leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll make it small. I still want my mark on you.”

Clearly, JJ had lied. The bruise on your neck was absolutely massive, and you’d have your work cut out for you when it came to covering it up. Sighing, you reached for your makeup bag, pulling out some color corrector and concealer.

A good thirty minutes later, the bruise was covered enough to go unnoticed, and you were outside on the dock, dressed in a pink swimsuit and a pair of shorts. John B and Pope were on the boat, preparing it for you day on the water. Kie was inside shoving snacks, water bottles, and beer into a small cooler. JJ, who had just finished rolling a few blunts, came walking out of the house. You heard him approaching behind you, and whipped around to face him.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Maybank.” You glared, crossing your arms over your chest. Your boyfriend looked nervous, his smiling face immediately shifting to a concerned one.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He said quietly, making sure that the other pogues were out of earshot before using the nickname. JJ knew you well, and any term of endearment made you melt for him. He always used them, but was particularly heavy on the nicknames when you were upset with him.

“Last night, I told you not to leave marks. But you insisted, and you told me you’d leave a small one.”

“Yes, that happened. So why are you upset with me?”

“Because the hickey I woke up to this morning was anything but small. It took me twenty minutes and half my concealer to cover that shit up! Are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get us caught?”

JJ moved towards you, probably to take you in his arms, but caught himself just before he did it, glancing up at the boys on the boat.

“I’m sorry, love. I couldn’t help myself. You look so fucking hot with my marks on your neck. It’s too hard to resist. Believe me, I tried.”

“Then try fucking harder, Maybank! Do I need to remind you that your ass is on the line here, way more than mine? Birdie’s not gonna beat my ass if he finds a hickey on my neck, he’s gonna beat yours! And then I get to have a screaming match with my brother after patching you up in the bathroom. I don’t know about you, but that is not the way I want anybody to find out about our relationship.”

JJ opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again with a sigh. He knew you were right.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. I need to gain better self control. It won’t happen again, I’ll listen to you next time. I’m sorry angel, really. Forgive me?”

He was giving you those puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist. After a moment of staring into them, you finally gave in. “yes, bebs, I forgive you. But don’t do that shit again, or so help me God…”

Your boyfriend broke out in an ear to ear grin. You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and take you in his arms, but he obviously couldn’t. “Thank you! I love you, angel.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, allowing a smile to creep onto your face. “You’re lucky I love you, too. Now come on, I think they have the boat ready to go.”

------

A few hours later, everyone is lounging on the boat. You’d been out on the marsh for a good four hours, and the whole group was beginning to grow tired. The late afternoon sun bared down relentlessly on you, warming your skin and causing your body to overheat, despite the fact that you’d been swimming in the cool water for the past hour.

“God, it’s so damn hot out here. Can the sun chill the hell out for a second?” You complained, taking a swig of your beer.

The rest of the group murmured their agreement from various places on the boat. Absentmindedly, you gather your wet hair in your hand, holding it up on the back of your head to try and relieve the heat on your neck.

Big, big mistake.

Unknowingly, you’d exposed the massive hickey on the side of your neck for the entire boat to see.

The makeup you’d piled on that morning had apparently faded while you swam. Your hair covering it was the only thing keeping you from exposing yourself, and now it was revealed.

“What the HELL is that, Y/N?” Your brother was speaking, pointing at your now exposed hickey.

You looked immediately at JJ, whose eyes had gone wide and cheeks were pink.

“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Birdie.” You replied quickly, not knowing what else to do.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” John B was walking towards you now, and your eyes were wide. You backed away from him, but you could only go so far on the small boat. He reached you eventually, pushing the hair from the side of your neck to reveal the bruise once again.

For a moment, your brother was silent. Strangely, this made you even more nervous then if he was screaming and shouting. You knew your brother well enough to know he was composing himself.

So that he wouldn’t strangle somebody.

“Who did it?” he said quietly. His voice was shaking with anger.

“Did what?” Your voice was shaking as well, but with fear for your boyfriend’s life instead.

“Who gave you the fucking hickey, Y/N! Stop playing dumb! Who did that to your neck.”

Panicking, you glanced over at JJ.

Yet another big, big mistake.

This glance was enough for John B to realize what the answer to his question was. You watched the pieces slowly connect in his mind, and then he was speaking again.

“It was YOU?” He rounded on the blonde boy near the edge of the boat. “You’re messing with my baby sister? Are you fucking kidding me, JJ?”

“Calm down, bird! It’s not what you think.” You were immediately at your brother’s side, trying to calm him down before your boyfriend’s body ended up at the bottom of marsh.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Y/N! I think this is exactly what it looks like! It looks like this dickhead has a screwing around with my sister when I specifically told him not to!”

“We’re not just screwing around, John B!” JJ said in defense.

“Really? What the fuck else are you doing that would end with my baby sister having a hickey on her neck?”

“We’re dating!” You burst out. “We’ve been dating. For six months now.”

John B turned towards you immediately after your statement. He looked completely dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t possibly process the information he had just been given.

“Six months?” he echoed, and you nodded.

John B turned back to JJ.

“Surprise?” The blonde boy, hoping to lighten the mood.

Obviously, he was unsuccessful.

“You’ve been messing with my sister for SIX MONTHS, and I’m JUST NOW finding out? What the hell is wrong with you? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Before anyone could do anything to stop him, John B was lunging at JJ.

As if he’d been preparing to do so, JJ jumped off the side of the boat, landing cleanly in the water.

John B stood over the side of the boat screaming at him.

You mad eye contact with Kie,who was giggling slightly at the whole situation. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~ A/N: Anddddd there’s the end! I really hope you guys liked this!

All notes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

ALSO: SEND REQUESTS!!

I love you guys so much,and Happy Holidays!!!!!

[fromkenari]

Waterloo Letters #3: A mass of fools and knaves

A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 1:04 AM to Henry H, Have you ever read any of Alexander Hamilton’s letters to John Laurens? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. You’d probably be disinherited for revolutionary sympathies. Well, since I got the boot from the campaign, there is literally nothing for me to do but watch cable news (diligently chipping away at my brain cells by the day) and sort through all my old shit from college. Just looking at papers, thinking: Excellent, yes, I’m so glad I stayed up all night writing this for a 98 in the class, only to get summarily fired from the first job I ever had and exiled to my bedroom! Great job, Alex! Is this how you feel in the palace all the time? It fucking sucks, man. So anyway, I’m going through my college stuff, and I find this analysis I did of Hamilton’s wartime correspondence, and hear me out: I think Hamilton could have been bi. His letters to Laurens are almost as romantic as his letters to his wife. Half of them are signed “Yours” or “Affectionately yrs,” and the last one before Laurens died is signed “Yrs for ever.” I can’t figure out why nobody talks about the possibility of a Founding Father being not straight (outside of Chernow’s biography, which is great btw, see attached bibliography). I mean, I know why, but. Anyway, I found this part of a letter he wrote to Laurens, and it made me think of you. And me, I guess: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you … Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some. Affectionately yrs, slowly going insane, Alex, First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 4:18 AM to A Alex, First Son of Masturbatory Historical Readings: The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me. Every time you mention your slow decay inside the White House, I can’t help but feel it’s my fault, and I feel absolutely shit about it. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to turn up at a thing like that. I got carried away; I didn’t think. I know how much that job meant to you. I just want to … you know. Extend the option. If you wanted less of me, and more of that—the work, the uncomplicated things—I would understand. Truly. In any event … Believe it or not, I have actually done a bit of reading on Hamilton, for a number of reasons. First, he was a brilliant writer. Second, I knew you were named after him (the pair of you share an alarming number of traits, by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c). And third, some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context. Are you angling for a revolutionary soldier role-play scenario? I must inform you, any trace of King George III blood I have would curdle in my very veins and render me useless to you. Or are you suggesting you’d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. If you did decide to take the option mentioned at the start of this email, I do hope you haven’t read the rest of this rubbish. Regards, Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft

Re: A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 5:36 AM to Henry H, Please don’t be stupid. No part of any of this will ever be uncomplicated. Anyway, you should be a writer. You are a writer. Even after all this, I still always feel like I want to know more of you. Does that sound crazy? I just sit here and wonder, who is this person who knows stuff about Hamilton and writes like this? Where does someone like that even come from? How was I so wrong? It’s weird because I always know things about people, gut feelings that usually lead me in more or less the right direction. I do think I got a gut feeling with you, I just didn’t have what I needed in my head to understand it. But I kind of kept chasing it anyway, like I was just going blindly in a certain direction and hoping for the best. I guess that makes you the North Star? I wanna see you again and soon. I keep reading that one paragraph over and over again. You know which one. I want you back here with me. I want your body and I want the rest of you too. And I want to get the fuck out of this house. Watching June and Nora on TV doing appearances without me is torture. We have this annual thing at my dad’s lake house in Texas. Whole long weekend off the grid. There’s a lake with a pier, and my dad always cooks something fucking amazing. You wanna come? I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty sitting out there in the country. It’s the weekend after next. If Shaan can talk to Zahra or somebody about flying you into Austin, we can pick you up from there. Say yes? Yrs, Alex P.S. Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 8:22 PM to A Alex, If I’m north, I shudder to think where in God’s name we’re going. I’m ruminating on identity and your question about where a person like me comes from, and as best as I can explain it, here’s a story: Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery. At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince. His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole. Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too. So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right. Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.” I’m in for the lake house. I must admit, I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. I worry you may burn the thing down. Does this mean I’ll be meeting your father? I miss you. x Henry P.S. This is mortifying and maudlin and, honestly, I hope you forget it as soon as you’ve read it. P.P.S. From Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 239-247). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.