#as someone funnier than me once said: I come from a very long line of women who look like pangur the cat

[brotherdusk]

if I had a euro for every time a stranger/acquaintance expressed amazement that I don't have any eastern european heritage because "you don't look irish" I would have enough to buy a decently sized iced tea of some sort. maybe even a reasonably priced book

[irishhills]

fresh air, times square

Blair’s thing, for as long as anyone can remember, is memorizing everything she comes across, almost by accident.

By two, she can identify more than fifty international flags, and by three, she knows all the United States and their capital cities. She didn’t even need a tune to learn them. She just woke up one day and did it. When her mother asked her why, all Blair said was, “I wanted to.”

“I wanted to” will become the thesis statement to Blair Donnelly’s entire life.

By far, her favorite thing to memorize is television theme songs. She sits at home on the weekends and learns them all without even trying. She assumes it’s probably not very difficult, but when she meets up with her similarly aged cousins for playdates and holidays, they don’t even know the difference between Petticoat Junction and Green Acres.

And, oh, does Blair love Green Acres.

To be clear, she’s not really sure if she loves the show as much as she loves the theme song. Something about the bellowing of that first line just makes her crack up. She’s seven years old now, and she still can’t think of a funnier way to fill a silence. When she’s home, just her and her parents, she’ll sing out of almost nowhere. Her parents find it charming.

They find it so charming that they forget to tell her she probably shouldn’t do it at recess in front of the other children.

The worst thing is that it doesn’t even happen during recess. It happens during outdoor gym class, when all the second graders are out playing kickball. It’s the second week back at school after summer vacation – a summer vacation Blair spent watching sitcom after sitcom. As she waits her turn to step up to the plate (and inevitably fall on her face, like Charlie Brown without any of the things that make him endearing), her reflexes take over.

Greeeen acres is the place to be!

Everyone stops. The whole game grinds to a halt. Blair swears she can hear someone else on the other side of the field drop their baseball bat. And now, everyone is staring at her.

She doesn’t hear everything they say once they start speaking again. Stuff about how she’s weird, how she thinks she’s so special but she’s really not, how she thinks she’s smart and funny. Some kids are even mocking her by singing the song themselves.

Greeeen acres is the place to be!

Blair wants to yell at them, but she’s not sure whether she wants to yell at them for making fun of her or for not being true fans of Green Acres. The fact that she’s conflicted about this really solidifies her reputation as the weirdest girl – the weirdest kid – in the second grade. She thinks about running off the field and back into the school where she belongs.

But then, there he is. Running up the kickball diamond as fast as his skinny little legs will take him. Chris Egan, who never gives up on her, even when he’d be so much more popular if he did. He gasps for air as soon as he catches up to her, and she hopes they get to go inside for Chris to take a puff from his hardly-ever-used inhaler.

But he recovers. And for better or worse, he has a plan.

Faaaarm livin’ is the life for me!

Blair’s heart does something she can’t quite explain, but she knows she likes it. She links arms with him and keeps singing. The other kids have decided to ignore them, just like always.

They don’t speak a word of it for the rest of the day. Blair won’t be surprised if they never speak of it again. Because that’s what Chris does for her. That’s why he’s there. To save a face that isn’t even his.

Blair waits for the day she can do it for him.

[dadsbongos]

why did you ask me out? (1)

chapter 1 - the setup / 2 / 3 / 4/ 5

4.3K words

warnings - brief internalized homophobia, speedrun enemies to friends to lovers trope

summary - You and Chrissy are long-lost best friends that join sides to pull one over on the girls hoping to make you prom queen as a bet. Things don't always go to plan - sometimes you realize you're in love and sometimes the girls shoot back at you.

~~

The 1970s inflation affected each family differently - that was the excuse your father gave, anyway. In March of 1982, your family moved from Cherry Lane to Forest Hills Trailer Park - closer to your soon-to-be best friend Eddie Munson and away from your then-best friend Chrissy Cunningham.

You and Chrissy had known each other since kindergarten of 1972 and you were fast friends.

It became routine for you two to play together both inside and outside of school. Playing quickly turned into “hanging out” as you grew too old for dolls and started wanting people to like you. Hanging out turned into sleepovers turned into her basically living at your house. It was never sisterly, though.

No, there was something that made your face heat up - made your heart pound - made your hands just a little sweatier than usual. Just as you found out what it was, your family moved - and just as you came to accept it, Chrissy stopped hanging out with you.

It was slow at first. You two still saw each other, but her visits slowed and you couldn’t help but feel judged - if not by her, then by her mother. Then the visits stopped once that summer rolled around. By the time you and Chrissy were becoming freshmen in August of ‘82, you were acquaintances. When neither of you spoke that entire year, it was official.

You and Chrissy Cunningham were no longer best friends.

And yeah, for that year, you worried that maybe she somehow knew, then you realized that wasn’t it.

She was just embarrassed to be around you as you both changed.

You hung out more and more with Eddie and slowly, your views were expanded and your tastes grew broader. You started listening to more metal and you started smoking pot and you started playing more with Corroded Coffin and you started rolling your eyes when someone said something idiotic. Chrissy changed, too. You didn’t know how, but it felt different when you two passed each other in the hall.

Like she was a different person.

It wasn’t your business. You were a new freak and she was on her way to becoming prom queen. Things move on.

1986. Senior Year.

“Very funny,” you huff, ripping the paper off your locker and crumpling it, “Super hilarious.”

“Never been a funnier crowd than those at Hawkins,” Eddie leans into the locker beside yours.

The paper, naturally, was a joking invitation to prom - covered in pieces of the owl pellet dissected during that day’s biology lecture.

“You’d think there’d be some level of moving the fuck on,” you can’t help but grumble, honestly bitter about the sudden increase of cruelty from your peers around this time.

Last year, too, when you were a junior and Eddie a senior - people were still lining up to try and embarrass you both by asking you to prom. As if either of you couldn’t see that coming. Even before then, during any homecoming or school dance way back in middle school - you two were the targets of many a hurtful prod. Once again, as if either of you couldn’t see that coming.

“One day, Debbie Harry,” Eddie knocks his heavy boot into yours, “one day.”

“Can you not call me that?” your eyes narrow at the boy, “Some people are really gonna think that’s my name.”

“Not my fault you're a Blondie fan,” he shrugs, acting as if he wasn’t a Blondie fan as well (“It’s just too new wave. Too pop, not my thing.” he lies through his teeth), “You made that choice. Or would you rather I call you Simon Le Bon?” he forced an awful French accent as he said the name.

“He’s English, first of all,” you huff and swat your friend’s arm, “and second: Duran Duran is good, you’re just pretentious,” he gasps dramatically as you finish shoving in the books you don’t need and pulling out what you do, “Wanna change my strings for tomorrow?”

“No,” Eddie takes the books from your hands and follows you to your history class.

“I’ll pay you.”

“No, you won’t,” he shakes his head, “I’ll only change your strings if you pay for gas tomorrow.”

“No fair, you’ve got an empty tank.”

“Not empty.”

As you two come in front of your class, Chrissy watches from her seat at the far right. The desk beside her is barren (except for the phallic drawings on its surface) and soon your body will occupy it. Is it awkward to sit next to you? Yes, but now there’s a whole new reason that lives inside the lump in her throat.

Her eyes avert as soon as you turn into the doorway. Your arms slung with two books - one for history and one that looks straight out of a high fantasy film. You and Chrissy don’t speak, interactions strictly limited to joint school projects.

So when it comes time for her to open up the conversation, all the girl can say is, “Hi.”

You raise a brow at the cheerleader, settling into your seat, “Hi?”

1972. Kindergarten.

The August of ‘72 was pleasantly cool in Hawkins and the teachers had taken to opening the windows and allowing breeze through the classroom. You were seated under one of those windows, back pressed against the wall and two Barbies clutched in your grubby child hands. Child hands invested in clumsily smashing the two plastic women against one another and seeing which ones leg joints made it bend backward first.

Thirty minutes into class and thirty minutes left until snack time, a little blond girl was brought in wailing. Red-faced, scrunched eyes, clenched hands - the whole show. Kids stared and you were no exception. Your teachers are drowning as the tears keep flowing and you’re the first and only one to get up and walk over.

You press one of the Barbies into her arm and when she looks at you, you ask, “Why’re you crying?”

She pouts and huffs and crosses her arms, “My mommy left me…”

“Your mommy’ll be back,” you say it like it’s easy and you wonder why someone would ever assume their mom was leaving forever, “Just play and then she’ll be back even sooner.”

She looks skeptical, “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you insist, jabbing the Barbie into her arm again, “Play with me and she’ll be back soon.”

Her blue eyes shoot to the teacher, who nods and smiles encouragingly. She takes the Barbie and follows you to your corner of the play area.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

You tell her as you sit, “What’s yours?”

“Chrissy!” she beams.

“Chrissy,” you try her name against your tongue and you have no idea how many times you’ll be saying it in the years to come. You nod in approval and hold out your doll, “Wanna play house?”

“Okay,” she leans over and grabs two smaller dolls to be the children, then holding up her Barbie, “I’ll be Mommy,” she looks at yours, lying limp in your lap, “Who will you be?”

You hold up the blond doll and shrug, “Other Mommy.”

“Can there even be two mommies?” Chrissy tilts her head.

“Why not?” you press your doll’s head against her doll’s head, “Two mommies can be fun.”

Looking back on it, you’re glad none of your teachers or peers heard you. Then you might’ve had the idea that two women together was hellish shoved in your head at a young age.

Chrissy came to school early the next day and didn’t shed a tear as she waddled over to you and insisted you two play house again. 

1986. Senior Year.

There’s a pregnant pause before Chrissy tilts her head and rubs the back of her neck. A nervous tick that developed in fourth grade when she’d watch your mother do it during stressful phone calls. You hate that you remember that about her.

“You look nice,” Chrissy awkwardly bites.

“I’m sure,” you shake your head, but when Chrissy frowns and begins fiddling with her fingers you feel guilt well in your gut, “Sorry. Thanks.”

“‘s fine,” Chrissy smiles, “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” your eyes dart to the clock hanging above the chalkboard, “I love the day of prom, every jock suddenly thinks I’m dying to go out with them and willing to make a fool of myself for it.”

“Aw,” she pouts but you know her, and you know it's entirely genuine, “I’m sorry, that has to suck.”

“Yeah,” you’re not bitter about the fact you two grew apart. You aren’t.

Before Chrissy can ask her question of the hour, the bell rings and your attention snaps to the notebook laid atop your history textbook. You open it to a page scrawled on with the expeditions of Russia - half coherent and half scribbles about Ivan the Terrible being a douchebag. 

It was cruel, and Chrissy doesn’t even know why she’s actually going through with the idea. 

Well, deep down, she knows that she’s terrified of being dethroned - not because her popularity is that important to her, but because it’s the only reason she has her friends. Even though she doesn’t really like her friends, it’s easier to be accepted by those you hate than to be alone.

And now Chrissy has to play along to their tune. Hopefully you never find out and it’ll just be some dreamy, coming of age movie moment that you’ll get to reminisce over in a year or two. Though, she can’t deny that the idea of having a good reason to talk to you again sets a fire under her. The good kind, though. A motivating kind.

Yes, she does still like you - but if she doesn’t do this then the others will throw her off the lifeboat without hesitation, and she’d hate nothing more than to drown. For years, you were there with a life vest, but now you’re missing and she’s climbed aboard the wrong ship.

1973. First Grade.

“I learned a new word,” you mumble as the class gathers for lunch.

Chrissy’s eyes are wide and wondering, “What?”

“Fuck,” you grin as you sound it out. It’s clunky and hefty on your tongue.

Instantly, the girl’s face scrunches, she recognizes the word from the many times her mother has said it, “That’s a bad word. You can’t say that.”

“It’s just a word,” you shake your head, and test it again as you open your lunchbox, “Fuck.”

“You’re gonna get in trouble,” Chrissy hisses and opens her lunchbox too. It’s more lavish, though less stocked, than yours, “Be quiet.”

“What?” you grin, “I shouldn’t say ‘fuck’?” she gasps but there’s a smile playing on her lips and your little heart sings at the sight, “Fuck!” 

She giggles again but it drops off just as fast. A shadow looms over her face and you turn to see your teacher standing above you. Her arms crossed and her face screwed in disappointment. 

Her foot is tapping and she glares down at you, “We don’t use that language, young lady,” before you even get to retort, she points over at her desk, “Come with me to move yourself down the behavior chart; and then we are calling your mother to tell her exactly what you just said.”

Before you hop down from the table, she’s already walking away without looking back. You can sense Chrissy’s mood fading and you decide that making her feel better is more important than your status on the behavior chart.

“I know another word,” you turn to Chrissy.

She tilts her head, blond pigtails falling around her, “What?”

“I said to come here!” your teacher folds her arms with a scowl.

“Bitch!” you cheer before bounding to your teacher’s desk, Chrissy’s giggles being the perfect wind in your sails.

You were grounded for a whole hour after school until your mother decided it was unfair to punish you for doing something her and your father never exactly told you off about. With a “just don’t do it again” and two packs of fruit snacks, you were allowed to run next door and play with Chrissy.

1986. Senior Year.

Chrissy can only watch as you doodle on your history notes. You’re so focused on it that she almost doesn’t register the fact you’re drawing a bushel with cartoonishly long legs. Almost. 

She leans to the side, chin resting in the meat of her palm, “What’s that?”

You jump slightly and turn, “An awakened shrub. Sorta,” you murmur as if she has any idea what that is, your eyes move back to the shrub and you start to cover it, “It’s a D&D thing.”

“Well, I think it’s cute,” Chrissy shifts even closer, “What’s an awakened shrub?”

“Just an ordinary shrub that’s sentient ‘cuz ‘a’ the Awaken spell,” you look back up at Chrissy, “‘s barely worth the trouble to fight but I think it’s fun.”

“It is,” she agrees. Her heart starts to ache at the realization that you two haven’t had a back and forth in so long, “If you’re not doing anything for prom, would you wanna go with me? And the other cheerleaders?”

All you can do is laugh, your head shakes and you rub the bridge of your nose, “Jesus Christ.”

Before the conversation can continue, you and Chrissy are shot a harsh look by your teacher. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Chrissy can see you shaking your head at the proposal. It hurts, but she can’t blame you - especially when her purpose is exactly what you’re thinking.

But it isn’t exactly like that; Chrissy decides then and there that she won’t let you go when prom is finished. She sees you with Hellfire often and you always look so pretty as you laugh and joke. You get so passionate about D&D and your band that she can’t help but wish she was sitting next to you rather than with the girls that made fun of each other to get her attention.

Part of her wishes she could start high school over and take that offer you extended on the very first day. Back when you rode the bus before Eddie could get his van running, Chrissy sat next to you and you offered to sit next to each other at lunch.

But she was swept up by the cheer captain before then. You saw your friends from middle school and she was being educated on cliques. She doesn’t regret becoming a cheerleader, but she wishes she did more to stand up for you. She wishes she didn’t let her mother affect her judgment as much as it had.

You’re more curt than she remembers. More direct. You move like you’re about to get burned and Chrissy hates that she knows exactly why you’re like this.

No, you two didn’t talk, but Chrissy was always there. Watching from the sidelines as people called you names and pulled on your clothes and tripped you and poured drinks over you. She watched the rumor spread throughout the student body last year and didn’t do anything to stop it, no matter how much she knew she should have. 

And no matter how much it hurts when you rush out of the room as soon as the bell rings, she can’t blame you. Not at all.

She wishes you two were kids again. When you two could play house all day and there was no pressure to be anything - before she left.

1975. Second Grade.

“Do you two know why you’re in here?”

Chrissy’s already teary-eyed at the harsh face of Mr. Jones, her hands knotting themselves into her long skirt. You’re less susceptible to his furrowed brows and so you’re glaring right back at him as you say, “Tommy H. was sticking a worm in Chris’ face.”

“I know that,” Mr. Jones nods, “but I’m asking why you’re in here.”

“I hit Tommy H.,” you shrug with all the moxie your body is capable of mustering, “He was torturing her, Mr. Jones.”

“We spoke with Tommy,” Mr. Jones removes his glasses and his face softens, he flashes you two a smile, “I appreciate you stepping in for your friend, but violence isn’t the answer.”

You didn’t see it that way. When a third grader was dangling a worm in front of your best friend’s face, you weren’t going to stand by and wait for a teacher. But whatever. Hopefully, he learned his lesson.

“We’ve contacted your parents, you two are out for the day but just come back tomorrow with bright smiles and a new attitude and everything’ll be okay,” Mr. Jones’ face is back to that of the kindly principal everyone loves and he stands, “I hope to have no more talks like this, girls.”

Chrissy promises you won’t. You don’t make such a pact. Because if another older boy thinks he can taunt Chrissy, then your little 7-year-old self won’t let them get away with it.

You didn’t end up getting in trouble because you were defending Chrissy, but Laura Cunningham did give you and your parents a stern scoff when she found out why Chrissy was being sent home. Laura’s opinion never mattered to you then, and in the future, it’ll matter even less - as long as you have Chrissy, you have the world.

You never expected to lose her.

1986. Senior Year.

You catch Dustin and Mike exiting their Home Ec. class, their brows both draw at the sight of you storming down the corridor. Each boy winds themself to either side of you.

“Should I ask what’s bitten you in the ass today?” Mike barely gets the question out before you’re groaning.

“Fuckin’ Cunningham just tried inviting me to prom right after I said how shitty it is that her friends do that,” you feel the stares shot your way as you rant but you can’t bring yourself to care, “Like, I know we’re not friends anymore but does she think I’m stupid?”

“Yeah, that’s real shitty,” Dustin hesitates in patting your back but does so anyway, “Maybe she was being serious, though.”

“Right,” you nod sarcastically, lugging open the heavy theater door, “she suddenly wants to talk to me out of the kindness of her heart.”

“Maybe,” Dustin, ever the ray of sunshine, grins optimistically, “it’s never too late to rekindle a friendship.”

“When the one trying to rekindle it just stood by while literally all her friends and boyfriend spread the rumor that I- “

“Okay, okay,” Dustin relents, “she thinks you’re stupid.”

“Not the point, Henderson,” you glare at the boy’s back as he makes his way to the table.

“That’s all I got from it,” Mike shrugs and you step on the back of his shoe as he walks.

Immature? Yes. Satisfying? Also yes.

“I hope you’re all ready,” Eddie calls out, chin resting on his joined hands and lips stretched into a sinister smile, “I’m ready to beat your asses.”

…

Usually, as Chrissy was at her locker, there would be hands flying to her waist and a quick outburst of “Boo!” and then she’d turn and sigh and bat at her boyfriend’s chest. Not today, though. Probably not for a long while.

A fight occurred right before Jason had to go in for Sunday service and the two haven’t spoken since. She hadn’t told anybody why the fight started and as far as she was concerned, nobody had to know - all they knew was that her and Jason were no longer on speaking terms.

That was part of the reason she was in the predicament she bore like a cross.

She misses you, though, and this is her last chance to make up for everything she’s done - and for all the things she didn’t do.

Chrissy creeps down the winding halls until she’s upon the door to Hellfire and sees it crooked open - laughs and hollers ring through the crack and she feels strangely welcomed before she even enters. Walking in, she sees you first. You’re sitting between the two freshmen that follow you and Eddie around; your pen tap, tap, taps against a dark blue folder. Your eyes are so focused on the tabletop before you that when everyone else turns to her, you’re completely unaffected.

“Am I dead?” Grant whispers.

“If you’re dead, we’re all dead,” Gareth stares, wide-eyed, at Chrissy Cunningham in the doorway.

“Hi,” she shyly waves.

That makes you look up, and Chrissy finds a peculiar pleasure in being the reason your attention breaks away from the game.

“Can I… talk to you?” Chrissy gestures to you and then to the hall, “Please?”

Gareth, Grant, and Jeff all look at you as Eddie makes a teasing ‘ooo’. You kick Eddie in the shin before standing.

“I’ll get the door,” you take the handle and wait for Chrissy to exit.

She can just catch you glaring at the boys before the door shuts and you’re left standing before her, “Look, whatever this is - dare, pity, I don’t care. You don’t wanna go to prom with me, your status will plummet and we barely know each other.”

“It’s nothing like that,” she inhales sharply and her eyes flutter to you.

You’re hardened now, and she wants to soften this armor. She wants to know you again. She wants to dance together under the disco ball and not once does Jason cross her mind when she’s looking at you. Something inside her burns and that’s why she ran away. If she was with you - she’d tell you that she loved you and you’d leave because two girls in love was odd.

But to hell with those feelings, she just wants you back. She can’t have that if she isn’t truthful, so she worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks away, “Well…”

“Yeah, I get it,” you cross your arms.

“There was a bet,” Chrissy admits and takes a step closer, brows pinching, “but I don’t care about that. I really do wanna go with you, I think it’d be fun.”

You squint at her, lips pressing, “What were the stakes?”

“If you became prom queen then Lily Pham will buy everyone lunch, if you don’t then Anne Mark will ask Eddie out.”

Instantly, you beam and she can’t wholly tell if it’s sarcasm or insanity, “Really?”

“Yeah,” she squeezes her eyes shut, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever,” you sigh, but she can see the gears of your head turning. You’ve always thought things through, always been the head of the operation, and she always loved that about you. You nod to yourself, “I’ll bite. Get Pham to have the same stakes as Mark and I’ll help you.”

“But I don’t- “

“I’m not going unless I get to fuck with people and getting Eddie to publically embarrass one of the girls that harass us is an excellent way to fuck with people.”

Chrissy’s gaze drops to her feet - if she turns you down you two won’t reconnect, but if she accepts then there’s a good chance that you two can turn back before it’s too late. Before college and career opportunities sweep you both away and she’s left to wallow in the ruins of what could have been if she never left in the first place.

“Alright,” she breathes out a sigh and smiles, “Okay. I have a spare ticket for you… Can you come with us after Hellfire? For shopping,” you squint at the girl and she pouts, hands coming up to beg, “Please, it’ll be fun, I swear - we can catch up! You won’t even have to talk to the others, I promise!”

“If I say yes, will you let me go back to the campaign?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” you nudge the theater room door open with your foot and hold it for Chrissy to enter, “C’mon, I need a pen.” 

She follows after you, fidgeting hands and knocking knees, and waves to the boys at the table. A few wave back, but Eddie being Eddie stands up to greet Chrissy, he curtsies and takes her hand, a slow “Cunningham” flowing from his lips.

“Munson,” she copies with a curtsy of her own, grinning broadly, “How’s your new campaign?”

“Stressing this one out,” he drops Chrissy’s hand to pat your back, “Should’ve seen her, girl was almost ripping out her hair.”

“Wish I had,” she mumbles. Nobody has to know how much she means it or what she means by it.

You tear off the strip of paper you’d scribbled on and hold it out for Chrissy, a green chipped-polish nail pointing to the top string of information, “Address,” then the bottom string, “Phone number. When’re we leaving?”

“Six,” she looks up at you with wide, starry eyes and your gaze falls back to the paper in fear that you’d grow too attached to those eyes. 

“Pick me up at a quarter till,” you know she hates it when people say that, so you smile as she huffs. You gently push Chrissy towards the door and lean in to murmur in her ear, “5:45, sweetpea.”

“I know what time that is,” she swats your arm, giggling.

“Then don’t be late,” you hang off the door when she’s standing in the hall. You have to remind yourself why she’s there, lest you get accustomed to seeing her again.

It’s just a bet that you’re helping with, but the way Chrissy beams at you makes all the pained memories worth it. Well, almost. 

You wave her off and when you sit down, you have to smother down the remains of your stupid smile. You turn to Eddie and before he can tease you, you say, “Remind me on the way home to tell you about a bet.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

3. I have no idea if this time line would work, but MYX and XY get attached to each other, so when the time comes that MYX and XY need to leave Koi Tower, JGY helps them get married in secret and run away to Dongu. Anyways, a few years latter, JGY has a kid that needs to go and people in a removed location that owe him favors! Isn’t that a wonderful combination! A Jin(?) Rusong raised by Uncles Mo and Xue, or whatever they go by these days, would be very chaotic. Bonus: they start a relatively safe demonic cultivation sect, maybe with some guidance from the Nie (has NMJ never been killed by the Jin in this Au?), or more specifically, Huaisang. SL and XXC who got a happy ending decide to check out this no blood line sect (it looks slightly dubious, but surely can’t be to bad! Right?) A-Qing at least is enjoying her new friend -🟪🦋

Should Have Been Listening - ao3

“Let go of me.”

“I won’t,” Mo Xuanyu said, clutching Xue Yang’s arm. “I won’t, I won’t! You’re my only friend here!”

Xue Yang looked down at him in what he thought was mostly exasperation, but might have also been a little fondness – after all, if it’d been anyone else who’d grabbed him, he’d have stabbed them.

He still didn’t know why he didn’t stab Mo Xuanyu, too, but in all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in exploring it. He did what he wanted, and right now, he didn’t want to murder Mo Xuanyu.

Irritating as he sometimes was.

“Little brat,” he said. “I have important business to go do.”

“It’s not something that he ordered, though!”

“So what?” Xue Yang bristled. “I don’t just do what hetells me!”

“But that means he won’t cover for you, and that means you’ll get in trouble!” Mo Xuanyu argued. “How can I let you go all alone to get in trouble? You have to take me with you! What will you do without me? Who’ll keep you entertained and sneak sweets for you if not for me?”

Xue Yang’s lips twitched. Okay, maybe there was a reason he kept the brat around.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “This is something I’ve got to do – something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m going to kill a lot of people and get into a lot of trouble, more trouble than ever before. I’ll probably lose my life. How can I possibly take you with me?”

Mo Xuanyu scowled up at him. It was a very weak scowl – barely more than a pout. “You think that’s going to make me not want to come with you?”

Xue Yang’s eyebrows went up. “You cry at the sight of blood!”

“I cry at a lot of things!”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, Mo Xuanyu cried at a lot of things.

“Maybe if I come with you, it won’t be so bad!”

Yeeeeah, Xue Yang wasn’t going to count on that.

“Or maybe you don’t have to go…?”

“I have to go,” he explained. “If I don’t go, I can’t get revenge, and I have to have revenge.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked up at him.

“I don’t really understand, but okay,” he said, and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go together, then. I promise I won’t cry!”

-

He cried.

He cried a lot.

-

“Stop fucking crying.”

-

“Just – ugh. Listen. You’re ruining the mood.”

-

“If you can’t stop crying, go away. Now. Or I’ll stab you!”

-

“Okay, see, look, I just killed the leaders, see? Just the old men. Everyone else is just locked in their rooms. Once the sect leader comes back, I’ll kill him too, and that’ll be all. Okay? Everyone else lives. I promise. Now stop crying, okay?”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said when they got back. “I don’t want to know at all.”

“Good,” Xue Yang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Enough people heard about the reason for what you did that opinions are mixed as to whether your actions were the Chang clan’s just rewards for their former misdeeds or if they were actually wrong,” Jin Guangyao said. He looked irritated. “But you still killed high-ranking members of a sect, and you left enough alive that they’re demanding your head on a platter. You’re going to need to run away.”

Mo Xuanyu hesitantly gestured as if he wished to speak.

“Yes, you can go with him. Now that my father is dead, no one cares where you are.”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Xue Yang asked suspiciously. “That seems unlike you. What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I’m not just going to let you go. I’m going to give you money, too,” Jin Guangyao said. “And all you need to do for me is one little tiny favor –”

Pity that that was when Xue Yang stopped listening, too busy staring at Mo Xuanyu’s delighted face and counting all the way he was in for it now.

-

“I’ve always wanted to take care of a baby,” Mo Xuanyu said happily.

“Good for you,” Xue Yang said darkly as he stalked through the streets.

He would rather that Jin Guangyao had needed a body buried and a death covered up or something – and judging by the baby’s perturbed expression, it probably agreed with him. Fuck, maybe Jin Guangyao had meant for them to murder the baby once they got it far enough out of the way. It was just as plausible as Mo Xuanyu's assumption that they were supposed to take care of it.

Damnit, maybe he should have been listening.

“Listen, neither of us are equipped to handle a baby. Go find a woman to help us – someone poor and helpless who doesn’t have any other choice.”

“Okay!”

-

Xue Yang shut his eyes. “What exactly,” he said slowly, “did you think I asked you to get us a woman for, exactly?”

“To…watch the baby?” Mo Xuanyu guessed. “When we’re busy or sleeping? Anyway, what’s wrong with A-Qing, anyway? She’s nice!”

“I’m not nice,” A-Qing said. The damn brat was smirking – and for once it wasn’t his damn brat, but some blind brat with a cocky expression. “I stole your wallet and you burst into tears and it was really embarrassing.”

“He does that,” Xue Yang said wearily. At least he’d noticed the theft this time – all of his lessons in ‘how not to be a sucker and get constantly taken advantage of’ were maybe having something of an impact. Maybe. “For some reason I’m apparently into it.”

He couldn’t explain it any other way.

“…loser.”

“I will stab you,” Xue Yang threatened. “I don’t care if you’re blind.”

“Won’t someone tell me why A-Qing isn’t a perfectly good babysitter?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. He was holding the baby in his arms again – the baby liked him more than it did Xue Yang, which meant that between Mo Xuanyu and the baby, the baby had better self-preservation instincts – and he was trying his best stern scowl which was of course barely more than a pout and a so-called ‘fierce’ expression that made Xue Yang want to laugh.

Not even Mo Xuanyu’s horrific make-up skills could make thatface intimidating. Or maybe it was just that the person behind the face was just so completely unthreatening that there was no help for it?

“Well? Tell me!”

Xue Yan opened his mouth, then shrugged and shut it again.

A-Qing patted Mo Xuanyu on the shoulder. “I’m too young. No milk.”

“…milk?”

“You know. The thing babies eat?”

“…milk,” Mo Xuanyu repeated, only now he looked absolutely heartbroken at having failed the mission that Xue Yang had assigned him almost entirely just to get him out of the way while Xue Yang collected some spare cash and threatened their way onto a ride out of this piece of shit town.

“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said hastily. “We’ll just get a goat or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay, I actually only came here to laugh at you,” A-Qing said. “But now I’m legitimately worried about this baby. Don’t you two know anything? How’d you even get a baby, anyway?”

-

“Stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

-

“Seriously. Stop laughing, or I stab you.”

“Don’t worry, A-Qing,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He doesn’t mean it! Threats are just how he expresses affection!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“That is absolutely amazing,” A-Qing said, wiping her eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever heard., if by best I mean worse-but-hilarious. I mean. If that’s what he considers affection, what must his flirting be like?”

“No one is flirting with anyone!”

-

“Are you going to leave at some point?”

“Obviously not,” A-Qing said. She’d caught the same ride as them, using Xue Yang’s cash no less – Mo Xuanyu had insisted that it was the least they could do after the whole milk misunderstanding, which was stupid, she ought to be paying them for wasting their time. Xue Yang couldn’t wait to get rid of her, although he had to admit that she’d been pretty useful in terms of putting on the ‘poor sad blind girl and her two brothers all alone in the world’ act to get them a room at the inn at prices even Xue Yang felt comfortable paying. “Are you joking? This is so much funnier than walking by myself. Anyway, I enjoy watching people crash and burn.”

“Aren’t you too young to be such a bitch?” Xue Yang hissed. “And, I don’t know, blind?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t care what you –”

The sound of crying came from the other room.

It was quickly followed by a second set of crying.

Xue Yang felt the onset of a headache.

“…truce?” A-Qing suggested sweetly, as if she knew exactly how much it pissed him off and thought it was the funniest thing ever, which was…probably accurate, actually. “I’ll get the baby to stop crying if you do the same with Mo Xuanyu.”

Yeah, that was definitely a headache. The sort of headache called why do I like that brat.

Mo Xuanyu owed him so much candy for putting up with this shit.

“Fine,” Xue Yang said begrudgingly. “Truce. Temporarily. And then you leave!”

-

“So we live here now, huh?” A-Qing said, looking around the house they’d claimed. “That’s neat.”

“Why do you live with us again?” Xue Yang asked her, though by now he barely even meant it. A-Qing was clearly another one in the same mold as Mo Xuanyu: you just couldn’t say no to her…or, rather, you could, at length and top volume and with threats, only it just didn’t stick. “I definitely did not recall asking you to stay.”

Though it was nice to have someone else around that wasn’t going to get immediately ripped off by literally anyone who came their way. Mo Xuanyu’d started getting conned by the literal infant that they were taking care of – he was completely hopeless.

Also, questionably blind or not, at least A-Qing had no hesitation about beating people with her stick if they struck her the wrong way, which was a life approach Xue Yang agreed with wholeheartedly.

“She’s going to learn to cultivate!” Mo Xuanyu chirped from where he was applying his make-up. “Demonic cultivation, too! We had a whole discussion about it while you were out getting groceries!”

That made a certain amount of sense, Xue Yang supposed. You didn’t need talent to be a demonic cultivator – technically speaking, given his bloodline, Mo Xuanyu was more naturally gifted in cultivation than Xue Yang, which was just wrong on all sorts of levels – and it was certainly more effective a defense mechanism than A-Qing’s stick. If there were two of them, they could protect Mo Xuanyu and the baby more effectively, taking shifts when needed, and Mo Xuanyu, who was also going to learn demonic cultivation no matter how many times Xue Yang had to hammer it into his head, could be the last line of defense, largely since no one would ever expect him to be able to do…anything…and they’d be right, too.

So it wasn’t the craziest idea in the world, only…

“…who is she going to be learning from, exactly!?”

-

“Have you ever considered charging for your skill in teaching cultivation lessons instead of your skill in stabbing people?” A-Qing asked one day. They were lying on the ground and having the corpses they’d raised fan them to try to reduce the temperature – it was that sort of day. Also, Mo Xuanyu, who might’ve objected, wasn’t around. “You’re not actually that bad at this. Might be more profitable, and less work. Just a thought.”

“Shut up. I’m great at stabbing people.”

“Yeah, but then after a while we have to move because people get annoyed at that, and it’s getting a little annoying to have to pack up all the time.”

“We’d have to move anyway. We’re wanted criminals, remember?”

“We could be wanted criminals with a house. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be called Teacher Xue?”

“What? No. Gross.”

-

“So you see, it turns out that they were teaching demonic cultivation in a safe and organized fashion,” Xiao Xingchen explained enthusiastically. “They’d even gathered up their own little sect! And of course everyone heard what the Chang clan did, so there’s no need to worry about them going around and murdering people at random – it was a targeted revenge scheme.”

“We’re working on teaching them regular cultivation,” Song Lan agreed, nodding. “To help mitigate the negative effects of demonic cultivation…well, we started out by just teaching them.”

“It turned out that they’d been secretly teaching all of the local delinquents, too, or at least Mo-gongzi had been teaching a few and Mistress Qing was teaching a few others, and even Sect Leader Xue had a few disciples,” Xiao Xingchen said, politely omitting or possibly having not noticed the fact that Mo Xuanyu had been teaching his ‘friends’ (read: scammers trying to take advantage of him), while A-Qing and Xue Yang had each been trying to form competing gangs and/or obtain lackeys. Xue Yang didn’t mind the oversight, largely on account of the fact that A-Qing had been winning, damn her – he’d kept getting distracted by inventing new things. “And a few of them had real talent – and you know that Zichen and I have always wanted to start a sect of our own, with no bloodline ties –”

“We’re joining their sect,” Song Lan said. “We’ll be leading the orthodox side, while they lead the demonic cultivation aspect – safely, of course.”

“I guess it’s better than them being crazy,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded dubious. “I don’t like it, but at least all the demonic cultivators can be in one spot, you know?”

He made it sound like they’d be dropping off new ones there in the future.

Like they’d opened up some sort of pet rescue and were taking in unwanted puppies or something.

“Agreed,” Nie Mingjue said. “To the extent that they aren’t causing active harm, containment seems an appropriate remedy here. Who seconds the motion?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled at the newly agreed-upon sect. “Welcome back to the cultivation world, Sect Leader Xue.”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said, glaring.

“Don’t worry,” Xue Yang told him. “This comes as much of a shock to me as to you.”

The glare intensified, but that was fine. Jin Guangyao’s facial expressions, however minor and generally overlooked, had been the only thing getting him through that awful, awful meeting just now where people kept trying to salute him and make him salute back and if he didn’t then he was letting down Mo Xuanyu (who would send him a sad look) and A-Qing (who would hear about it from Mo Xuanyu later and then find a way to step on his foot right when he was concentrating on something).

Not to mention their two new resident lovebirds, who looked so righteous and proper from the outside but who also may or may not have accidentally full-on actually resurrected some dead asshole cultivator more or less the first time they’d joined Xue Yang in his demonic cultivation laboratory – which would have been fine, you know, that happened in demonic cultivation though not normally to quite such a wow-is-he-actually-alive extent, except that the guy’s intermittent moments of clarity suggested that his two new sect members might have just brought back the Yiling Patriarch himself, which was going to make all of them wanted criminal again the second anyone found out about it.

Ugh.

Being called sect leader was completely not worth this shit.

Xue Yang comforted himself with the reminder that later today he was planning on publicly introducing Jin Guangyao to the Xue sect’s head junior disciple “Xue Song” and announcing loudly that the brat needed some lessons in manners, that he’d heard that that was Lianfeng-zun’s specialty, and nominating him to take care of the kid while they were visiting.

See how the fucker liked that.

“I always knew Xue-gege could do great things!” Mo Xuanyu said, clapping his hands as A-Qing rolled her (by now, Xue Yang was almost definitely sure not actually blind) eyes behind his back. “As long as I went with him!”

[rowanaelinn]

Tease

word count: 1,3k

warning: some mild nsfw

i might write part two of this if you’re interested in it! i wrote this in thirty minutes right before posting it so i’ll be honest i was a bit lazy to write everything, so just tell me if you’d be interested in a part two!

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius knew she was a tease. She had been told so her entire life, and she took great pride in it.

She loved to make jokes about her family, to laugh of her friends whenever she could, and to annoy the shit out of everyone around her when she was in a mood.

But, she wasn’t only that way with people she loved dearly but also with the ones she hated with a passion.

Not a lot of people could fit in that category since she never considered herself a very hateful person, only Rowan Whitethorn could. It wasn’t exactly her fault, she just couldn’t ignore him when he was in the same room as her, she had to pick on him. And he returned the courtesy so she didn’t really feel bad about it.

But after two years of knowing each other, something changed. Aelin didn’t know how their banters went from snarky remarks to angrily making out in closets, but she was willing to admit she didn’t mind.

Not that she had stopped teasing him, but it was funnier now. For the past two months, she couldn’t count how many times her hand had accidentally brushed the top of his thigh, how many times her skirt rode up around him and she just didn’t notice or how many times she had to wipe the side of her mouth as she maintained eye contact with him.

They had made out for hours and they had also sometimes crossed a line, but they were both in silent agreement to never speak about it even when it was only the two of them. So, whenever she could she’d tease him about how bad he kissed (which is the biggest lie that ever came out of her mouth) but she’d never brought up that time they had drunk and he made her scream of pleasure just with two fingers.

And he would tease her on the way she always pulled his hair too roughly, but he’d never spoke about that time she took him so deep in her mouth he came down her throat, chanting her name as he fucked her mouth.

Never had they crossed that final line and Aelin wasn’t sure they would. She didn’t know whether to feel revealed or disappointed. Normal people don’t make out with people they hate, so they’d definitely wouldn’t have sex with them. Maybe she wasn’t normal, she liked the sound of this.

Aelin was having so much fun tonight.

They were all out in a bar to celebrate Fenrys’s birthday and instead of being by her best friend’s side, drinking and partying, she was in a dirty bathroom, her legs around the man she hated’s waist, her hands in his hair, and her tongue playing with his. He was pressing her against the wall, both hands gripping her ass.

“What about ‘never doing this again’?” Aelin asked, pulling back to take back her breath but she didn’t catch a break, Rowan’s lips assaulting her neck. Every time they kissed, one of them promised it was the last time, even if they both knew it was a goddamn lie.

“Shut up,” he groaned, taking back her lips. She just giggled, trying her best not to break the kiss. She was annoying him, she knew it, it’s exactly why she was doing this.

Aelin didn’t know how they ended up here tonight, they had been fighting over what sport was better between football and baseball, and the next second, she heard him lock the door and she was kissing him roughly.

“I’m still right.”

He groaned, pressing his body closer to hers in hopes it would shut her up, but if he really believed this he didn’t know her at all. He went to unbutton her shirt, but she stopped him right there, shaking her head.

He looked at her, a brow arched and Aelin hated how beautiful he looked right now, his long hair in a mess because of her, his lips swollen and eyes darker than his usual shade of green. “Tell me I’m right, then you can take off my clothes.”

“No.”

Aelin smirked, taking her hands off his hair. “Hands off, then.” She smirked but Rowan didn’t let her go. “Come on, three little words. You are right.”

“I’m not going to lie.” He said, his hands massaging her butt. He really was shameless.

“But you’re going home with blue balls.” She winked and used all her strength to push him back, settling on her feet once again. She ignored the ache between her own legs and walked away from him, accentuating the sway of her hips because she knew it’s where he would look.

She sat back with her friends, ordering her second drink of the night as she laughed with Lysandra.

Five minutes later, Rowan sat at the same table, looking normal as if he hadn’t almost fucked someone in the bathroom. He ordered a new drink and spoke with Aedion who was sitting to his left, but not one single time did he look at her, which annoyed her.

She tried to attract his attention by laughing a little loudly, by interrupting his conversation with her cousin because she needed to ask Aedion something or because she was recalling a childhood memory, but nothing worked. Never once his gaze settled on her.

With a smirk on her face, Aelin pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly found her message app. She took advantage of Lysandra wanting to dance with Fenrys to take the time to scroll into her picture to find what to send.

Happy with her choice, Aelin pressed the “send” button and put her phone on the table, her eyes focused on the silver-haired man at the other side of the table.

He opened his phone the moment he got the notification and she could see the moment he saw her text.

Rowan had just received a very explicit photo of hers truly, she was laying in bed, with lacy red lingerie on and one of her hands disappeared in her underwear, not letting what her fingers were doing to the imagination. She had been thinking of him when she took this, and had felt a little embarrassed about it when she came down from her high, but now she was glad she took the picture.

His knee, which had been shaking since he sat down, she didn't need to see it to know, he did it all the time, tapped the underside of the table, drawing everyone's attention.

His head snapped up toward her, his eyes hard. Aelin grinned like a fiend, proud of herself. She brought her glass to her lips but she before rose it toward him, mouthing “cheers”.

Her phone buzzed, showing a new message. Stop with this attitude before I fuck it out of you.

She bit her lip, fighting the blushing coming on her cheeks. When she looked up, Rowan seemed proud of him as if he knew what she was feeling right now. Maybe he did. They had never spoken about this so outrightly, this was dangerous territory.

Not sure you would be able to handle all of me.

His reply came in immediately. Willing to bet against it?

She was, but she didn’t want him to win her so easily even though she had fantasied about him fucking her for months now. You miss my mouth?

Yes. Oh, good gods help her. She didn’t dare to look up, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. Feeling the same about my fingers?

I don’t know. It wasn’t that memorable.

She looked up to see him frown and she internally smiled at it, finding the image funny. She looked quickly at her phone. Join me in my car in five minutes and allow me to refresh your memory.

Rowan didn’t wait for an answer before excusing himself for the night. She didn’t have to think about it twice, her mind was already made.

————

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[dontbipanicjonsa]

Did Kit suddenly lose his ability to heart-eye or is Pol!Jon actually a thing.

I'm late to the fandom but I just finished S7 and I'm having thoughts.

I'm a reader of the books, and I hadn't watched the show till now because... I suck at watching shows with hour long episodes and more than three seasons.

What made me decide to watch it was the Pol!Jon discourse I found on the Internet.

I know enough about the show to understand how unlikely and out of character this theory would seem to show watchers. At the same time, I fully believe that book!Jon would be fully capable of something like this. But also, even though I do ship Jonsa in the books, I can't deny that Jonerys is.....a big deal. Everyone expects it to happen. It's a highly anticipated pairing and....I just couldn't honestly believe Pol!Jon because it is just so against the general expectation.

So I decided to watch the show. And now I've finished season 7 and I am astounded.

Let me preface this by saying that I went into S7 already disliking Jonerys (sue me) but I still fully expected to have some serious doubts about the validity of Jonsa. I fully expected to be at least somewhat convinced of Jonerys. Even hating the idea of Jon and Danaerys together, I still expected more.

There are a number of things I would like to note here.

First, Jonerys is a romance that is told, not shown. Davos talks about Jon watching Dany's "good heart" (hehe) to tell us Jon is attracted to Dany. But then Jon immediately dismisses it- and not in a way that looks like he's deflecting. He's not only dismissing it, he's dismissive of it. His mind is not in the conversation, it is beyond the Wall.

Similarly, Tyrion says (not in those words), "yeah right, and Jon only looks at you longingly coz he wants a military alliance with you". Not sure what I'm supposed to think about that....? First, Jon doesn't look at Dany longingly at all???? Not once. Second, is this line supposed to suggest that Jon is looking at her longingly for a reason that is not desperately wanting a military alliance....? Because we already know that that's exactly what he does want. Wtf do I make of this statement?????

There are other examples, but the point remains. People keep talking about Jon and Dany being into each other, and that is what is supposed to convince us that they are into each other (well yea Dany is) but Jon gives no indication of looking at her longingly, of falling in love with her, of being intrigued by her even. He's a brick wall.

Alright, I'll concede one (1) scene where I saw legitimate attraction on his face for a second- that is the cave scene. Even there tho, it's hard to tell if he's just watching her reaction carefully or if he wants to bang her.

On the other hand, Dany shows that she is into him. Even so, when I say she's into him, I mean she's attracted to him and intrigued by him. I cannot believe she loves him.

Next, I think it's interesting that in the episode before (or was it the same episode?) Jon bends the knee, we have a number of people (Tormund, Beric) talk about stuff like- kings not bending the knee leading to people dying, knowing what's important (the fight against the dead), being the shield that guards the realm of men blah blah I don't remember the exact words. Then he sees the WW and the Army of the Dead (again) and sees a dragon die. And then, the first opportunity he gets, he bends the knee. I want to point out here that the scenes really emphasise on Jon's thinking face after every conversation he has during their little gay party beyond the Wall. They focus on the look on his face again while he's watching the Army. Multiple times. And there's clearly something going on in his head, gears are turning.

One other scene that struck me is the scene where Jon and Dany are saying goodbye to each other (the Eastwatch episode). In the same episode (if I remember correctly) Jon calls them strangers, and then the goodbye scene comes and Dany says to Jon's little morbid joke, "I've grown used to him". Him being Jon. Two things to note here-

One, Jon considers them strangers but Dany has gotten "used to him". Maybe it's nothing, or maybe it's an indication of how the two of them are absolutely not on the same page (about anything).

Second, Jon's face after she says that. It shuts down. Like a door slamming. And then he says that "wish you good fortune in the wars to come" line, which has ZERO romance, or longing, but a whole lot of bad precedent (does that make sense?). Ouch. The thought that occured to me here is that Dany is being somewhat obvious about her feelings, and maybe, just maybe Jon has picked up on it. And that is why he reacts the way he does.

I wasn't sure so I compared the scene with the Jonsa forehead kiss scene in S6, and Jon's expressions after that kiss.

My logic was this- I assume that either Jon has become aware of Dany's feelings in the Eastwatch goodbye scene, or his own feelings for her. One of these assumptions is true. Which one?

If Jon has feelings for Sansa, then his confusion/awareness/discomfort regarding that are seen in that forehead kiss scene. So if Jon has become aware of his feelings for Dany, let's see how these two scenes compare?

My dudes. There is no comparison. Go watch it.

I watched both scenes with sound off, and the difference is insane. Jon looks at Sansa's lips. There's a moment's pause that's full of tension, and then his face shuts in a way, but it's a bit confused, a bit thoughtful.

Jon does not look at Dany's lips. He does not look confused, or thoughtful. This is not a romance.

Side observation- speaking of showing and telling, it's funny how we're shown Jon looking at Sansa's wolf bits, and told that Jon looks at Dany's good heart. Yes I'm talking about boobs but wolf bits and good heart is funnier. We literally see Jon look at the wolf bits twice, talk about it himself, in a completely unnecessary conversation...as opposed to being entirely dismissive of the good heart, even when someone else brings it up.

Back to the main point, one last thing I'd like to talk about is the scene where Jon actually bends the knee (not really). First, there are still no heart-eyes. Definitely not from Jon. Second, it's funny how Jon uses the exact hand-grabbing move that Sansa used on him last season, when she was trying to convince him to do something he didn't particularly wanna do (like he's now trying to do with Dany). This means that

1) he learnt that move from Sansa. He knows how effective it is XD

2) if the Jonerys hand-grab is romance, it stands to reason that the Jonsa hand-grab is romance too. I mean both the grabs are suspiciously similar.

Then, even after Dany "promises" that she'll help the North fight the WW, Jon still bends the knee. I felt both an odd sense of urgency coming from him, and an understandable hesitation. Or maybe that's just me.

Now suddenly, he becomes complimentary of her. But there's something weird about his compliments. They are completely generic. "They'll see you for what you are" and in the later episode, "you're not like the others". Wtf does that MEAN ??

Here's the thing...Jon could have paid Dany a way more specific, genuine sounding compliment after bending the knee (complete with heart eyes). I mean she did just fly over the Wall to rescue him and his men. He could have said more, something meaningful, but he didn't. He bent the knee like a house on fire (that doesn't make sense but you get what I mean I hope) and paid generic compliments. Then he pretended to sleep until she left and then sighed very loudly.

??? Romance??? WHERE????

Then the dragon pit. Heart-eyes still missing.

Then the sex scene. What do I say? Lol.

No really. There are no heart eyes even during the sex scene. Honestly, idk what that face was. Not in love for sure.

Another side note- Arya and Sansa have talks while standing in the same place where the forehead kiss scene happened (wtf do you call that place again, the bridge.??) But no heart eyes. No lingering looks. There is no incestuous gay love between them, I can say for sure. All it does is prop up the odd incestuous vibes of the Jon Sansa scene in that same place.

ANOTHER side note- goddamn but does Sansa talk about Jon a lot.

Edit: I'm sure most of this stuff has already been discussed in other metas. My purpose here is only to put down my first thoughts after watching the season.

[bigbrainblue]

19th birthday

It was late.

you don’t know how late, but late enough that you hadn’t heard a car pass in well over 20 minutes, the only light around was from the distance street lamps and the reflection of the moon on the ocean that stood before you. the only sound coming from the crickets in the hills, occasional wave crashing, and your own shallow breath. 

currently you were sat on a beach. alone.

it was your birthday, you had come to the beach from your birthday party. a party to celebrate the day you were born 19 years ago. 

the party was fine, but there sure as hell were a lot of people, way more than you would have liked

you knew people there, sure, but a good portion of the party was people you've never even heard of, just coming for a party and the booze. 

you had arrived with your friends, a lot of them actually, you had just managed to lose them all one by one slowly as the night grew longer and as your vison started to blur.

the people you came with were your friends, Niki, will, toby, tom, clay, George, nick, and Alex. 

you were having fun, drinking, walking around, socializing. but soon it became too much.

the drinking had made you obsess over every thought that came into your head.

you decided to take a break, have some fresh air, and now here you are. on a beach. alone. at night.

one of the thoughts your brain wouldn’t let go was about Alex, the boy you’ve known since junior year of Highschool. you two met when you decided to do a foreign exchange year in Mexico. it just so happened to be that the parents that decided to host you for a school year also were the parents of a teenage boy the same age as you, with straight black hair that stuck to the back of his neck and with freckles scattered around his face. over the next 9 months you guys became best friends, never leaving each others sides.

you didn't know it then, but you had fallen in love with this boy, this amazing beautiful smart caring boy. 

but eventually you had to go home, but you guys never stopped talking.

Alex eventually started posting videos on YouTube, and not long after, streaming on twitch as well.

you watched him gain fame as you supported him at the sidelines, cheering him along the way.

at some point he convinced you to do it too. you spent long nights on calls with him, helping you set up your streams and giving you ideas for new YouTube videos. 

with the help of Alex, you started to gain fame too, even passing him at one point.

through streaming and YouTube, you made so many friends, and yet none of them compared to Alex. 

speaking of Alex, you wondered what he was doing, probably having the time of his life, drinking an hooking up with girls a bajillion times hotter than you

*A/N HI OK IM SORRY IF THAT PART SOUNDED MEAN I PROMISE IT ADDS TO THE STORY OK BYE*

you laughed quietly at yourself thinking about how stupid it was to think that you could pull a guy like Alex.

just then you heard it.

a familiar voice from behind you, “what’s so funny?”

you looked back startled and confused

‘Alex? what are you doing out here?”

“well y/n I could ask the same thing to you, its your party, i noticed you were gone, so I went looking for you. as simple as that”

“i got overwhelmed in there, I'm sorry. i just needed some fresh air”

“ its ok, don't apologize for something you cant control. can I sit?”

“nope” you said sarcastically, hoping he would get the joke

“too bad!” he said, plopping himself right next to you in the sand

you giggled at his humor

neither of you said anything, it wasn't awkward silence, you two had known each other long enough that sometimes, it was nice to just enjoy the company of the other person beside you in silence. 

and yet, suddenly Alex said something.

“have you been crying? there's dried tear streaks along the sides of your face”

you turned your head towards his and whipped the sides of you face, seeing that he was already looking at you, studying you and your facial expression. 

“i guess. if I did, I didn't notice.”

“how did you not notice yourself crying? that sounds like something very noticeable” he said, putting an emphasis on the very,

you laughed, probably harder than you should have.

he smiled, happy to see you happy

“do you wanna talk about it? why you were crying?”

“no, well, not here at least-” you said gesturing your hands at the ocean 

“plus, there's sand getting in my ass” you added on to your previous sentence

Alex laughed and agreed, standing up and brushing off hi pants, and then handing out a hand for you to grab as he pulled you up.

you also brushed yourself off, and you weren't lying, cause man was there a lot of sand in your ass.

he started walking away from you and as you caught up with him you asked,

“where are we going?”

“you’ll see, its a great place, I promise you will love it” 

you followed Alex to his car as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“how romantic” you commented as you climbed into his car. poking fun at him

as he got into the car he plugged his phone into the aux cord, playing a song you had heard a couple times, but would have never expected for Alex to listen to it, it just didn't seem like the type of music he would like.

he set his phone down face up as the screen flashed up at you as he put the car into gear and pulled out into the street

you saw the title of the song he was playing, “Falling For U” by Peachy ft Mxmtoon, and his wallpaper, a photo of you two from junior year. both standing next to each other awkwardly as his mom made you guys take a photo together on the first day you got there. you wondered how long it had been his wallpaper for. 

you laughed and asked him about his wallpaper

“i mean you gotta admit, we look extremely sexy in that photo. especially me”

this comment from Alex made you break out laughing, even harder than before, as he started to hum along with the lyrics of the song. joined with him actually saying a line out loud every once in a while

it was a peaceful drive, Alex played more lofi songs as you stared out the widow.

eventually he pulled the car into an empty parking lot of a small gas station 

“is this the place?” you questioned 

“nope, just a pit stop.” he said

you both went inside, grabbing snacks and drinks and piling them into the back of the car. Alex making you wait to open them until you two got to your final destination

 eventually, the car rolled into a another small empty parking lot, except this one was made of dirt and was a lot higher up.

Alex had pulled the car to the edge of the parking lot, as you finally got to see why he brought you here,

you looked through the windshield to find a view of the entire city. 

you gasped in awe as you looked towards Alex, who, again, was already looking at you.

this time he wasn't studying you, he was admiring you.

you blushed, but pushed it off.

you and him both got out of the car so you guys could grab the snacks and the blankets he had in the back of his car.

he hopped onto the hood of his car and you joined him.

-

you starred into the sky full of stars above you. 

you gasped as you pointed out a shooting star passing over head 

“what did you wish for, Alex?”

“i cant tell you or else it wont come true”

“well then couldn't you wish the opposite of what you want to come true and then tell someone so the opposite comes true?”

“you're so stupid-” he said jokingly as he laughed.

“so, do you want to talk about why you were crying earlier, or is this still not the right spot” Alex chuckled at his own joke

“yes but, I have a question first”

Alex hummed in response, curious of what the question could be

“do you believe in love at first sight?”

you could feel his gaze on you, but you didn't divert your eyes from the stars above.

“do you remember the first time that we met? at the airport when my mom forced us to hug and take that god awful photo together, and when we ended up playing tictactoe in the car for an hour while we drove to my house?”

“yes? of course i do, that was simultaneously the worst and best day of my life. but that doesn't answer my question dumbass” you said, still not giving into his gaze onto side of your head.

“I think I just did, did I not?” 

it finally clicked, him looking for you at the party, the song in the car, the story

you turned your head to meet his gaze, finally giving in

he sat up and dramatically grabbed his chest, pretending to have been stabbed in the heart, enacting a theatrical performance

“y/n m/n l/m, i am dying, and you must know, that I am in LOVE with you!” he dramatically gasped and fall back down., pretending to be dead. 

you played along as you gasped and put the pack of your hand on your forehead as you spoke

“oh my dear Alex, I love you too, and now you will never get to know how much i loved you” you faked sobbed onto his chest

“maybe a true loves kiss will help save him” he whispered, making the scene even funnier and causing both of you to bust out laughing

“ah yes, the only way to save my prince, a true loves KISS!” you said before coming down and kissing Alex on the lips. 

he sat up with a loud gasp

“I am alive! a kiss of true love saved me!” you giggled beside him as you watched him play out his Oscar-winning performance

“may I kiss you again m’lady? for saving my life of course.” he questioned

“of course, you can kiss me anytime m’lady” you said back, pulling him into a deeper kiss

he pulled way first before speaking

“WAIT DID YOU JUST CALL ME M’LADY?

[hacash]

ted lasso 2x09 thoughts

ARGH

those are it. those are my thoughts.

Ok, slightly more coherently…

Sam’s getting recognition! Sam has his own chant! I love that for him. Love it all. It’s obviously so good that Sam is becoming an in-universe hero when we’ve loved him from his first scene - however, that also comes with the caveat of not wanting him to move anywhere from Nelson Road. I’m curious to see where they take it though, because I obviously can’t see Toheeb Jimoh leaving the cast before the show finishes, but at the same time this offer is so good for him?? I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.

(If, on the other hand, Toheeb is being written out because he’s going on to star as a lead in another show where we could see more of his beautiful face and stellar acting every week? I would find that acceptable.)

Screeners’ reactions for this episode had me thinking something cataclysmic and dreadful was going to happen between Sam and Rebecca with them reuniting and it hitting the papers - and it ended up being fine?? Of course she’s torn about him leaving. Even if they end up never being together again Sam clearly represents something wonderful to Rebecca - possibility and the sense of being treated right - and those feelings don’t just go away.

I expected a bit more reaction from Ted about the whole Sambecca thing, but that little look in his eyes after their conversation did have me curious - does he disapprove more than he lets on? is he secretly pining for Rebecca already? only time will tell. also I did notice Ted was once again basically saying whatever Rebecca wanted to hear and agreeing at every single line - he might be going to therapy but he’s not out of the people-pleaser woods yet.

Another bombshell next year? OH COME ON. If that’s not a prediction of some sort of confession of love I will go out and buy a hat just to eat it.

SHARON. How I am going to miss thee. But it was a lovely and understated farewell to a character that I’ve really come to love - Sexy Mother Fucker; he stole my move, yaas - showing how much she and Ted have helped each other grow and I just *tear*. Also I’m a Tedbecca shipper through and through, but Jason and Sarah do have such lovely chemistry together.

Also the pub regulars basically pleading for free therapy? Aww.

Higgins luring Ted back to read Sharon’s note with a well-chosen letter based pun? I love this man to the ends of the earth.

I FUCKING KNEW THAT HIGGINS KNEW EVERYONE’S BIRTHDAY. I PREDICTED THAT SHIT.

Roy and Keeley…I’m sorry, I’m emotional and anxious and hopeful and I do not think they’re going to break up. Relationships go through messy spots and people struggle, and the mark of a good, communicative, grown-up relationship is that you take time and discuss your issues and move past them. Keeley and Roy’s relationship has always been characterised by that maturity, and I just don’t see a couple of ill-timed romance confessions breaking that down.

(If anything, we might get a discussion from Roy about Keeley trusting him - I’m guessing there’s a fair bit of time lapsed between Jamie’s confession and her telling all to Roy, and I can see that being the sticking point that upsets Roy, that she hid this from him for some time. He clearly didn’t feel at all upset by what happened with Nate; it’s the - arguably fair - point that Keeley didn’t let him know that her ex confessed love for her that I think is going to be the issue.)

Also, the ‘are you married’ question - coupled with the fact that we keep seeing Roy on his knees in front of Keeley - makes me think we’re going to get a proposal next episode.

Also I love that we’re seeing more of Keeley’s psyche beyond the ‘cute and supports everyone’ façade - her mother’s experience with ambition and not being able to achieve it is a really interesting little snippet, not to mention the reason she bonds so much with Nate and is able to see how someone seemingly ‘undeserving’ should be able to realise their dreams.

also her and Rebecca’s ‘bleargggggh!’ competition! and Ted thinking he was going to be on the cover of Vanity Fair! return of Biscuits with the Boss!

ok, deep breaths now

NAAAAAATE

WHAT ARE YOU DOOIIIIIIING

Is it bad that I sort of liked the whole thing with Keeley? Not in a ‘yes I want this to happen’ sort of way, but because it makes so much sense that Nate (particularly Nate in his current state) might mistake that level of bonding and emotional support as something romantic. We know Nate is insecure and hasn’t had much of a social life in the past, and that he idealises Keeley for her basic kindness and decency: much like Jamie in 2x10, he’s mistaking Keeley’s kindness as something more…it’s absolutely gutting to watch, and also so human and real that I can’t help but take my hat off to the writers for it.

(Honestly, there’s been so many posts on tumblr about how toxic masculinity fucks men over to such an extent that when they receive kindness and friendship for a woman they immediately think romance - but yeah. this show does tick all the boxes.)

I did see the kiss moment coming a mile away and was really worried that Nate was going to be…uh, very entitled about it, given his current state, but the fact that he wasn’t - that he was immediately horrified and realised he’d fucked up and stumbles away muttering about how he ‘is worried about it’ and ends the scene spitting at himself in the mirror again and looking absolutely disgusted with himself - well, in a way that just hurt more. (I mean, I’m relieved Nate wasn’t all bolshy with it because his reaction does show there is still some of the old Nate still there…but still, owch.)

And then that text from Trent…

Next episode is going to hurt like hell, isn’t it? I absolutely cannot wait for the showdown between Nate and Ted, it’s been a long time coming…like I’ve said, while I think ultimately Nate is going to have a redemption arc, because thematically it makes sense and would send some pretty iffy messages if he doesn’t, I don’t think it’ll come until season three. Right now I just want to see Ted get angry after several seasons of suppressing his anger, I want a full-blown emotional hash-out between them both - basically I want Jason and Nick to have me sobbing before 9AM.

My one question is: are we going to see Nate realising what he’s done, or not? Was this a pragmatic, doing-this-for-the-sake-of-the-club betrayal or a blind, lashing-out-in-frustration betrayal? In short: is Nate Lando or Anakin in this scenario?

I’m very curious as to what show people who say this ‘came out of nowhere’ have been watching. Nate’s been heading for some sort of implosion since mid-season, and we all knew it was going to hurt some innocent bystanders.

I’m saving something light and cheery after all the angst, so let me just say: cinema has never surpassed, and will never surpass, the scene of the Richmond boys dancing along to Bye Bye Bye. Almost made up for the fact that they were criminally underused in the rest of the episode, and quite frankly this had better be redressed in the season finale.

and WE FINALLY SAW COLIN DRIVING THE LAMBO. I don’t know what I find funnier: the fact that it’s some neon lime green monstrosity that every fourteen-year old boy would have dreamt of owning growing up (should my new Colin tag be Colin ‘I Need To Rethink My Relationship With My Car’ Hughes, or Colin ‘More Money Than Sense’ Hughes? enquiring minds want to know…) or as was pointed out to me by @kamillahn, the look of absolute terror on Colin’s face as he begins to drive. Colin, hun, please just buy yourself a Fiat. It’s not worth it anymore.

[dragonsareourfuture]

Death Note as Stand-Up Comedians

Mello

- he’s allowed to complain about Near in front of an auditorium full of people as long as it’s in the form of a joke — of course he loves it.

- He has a lot of passion up on stage. The audience loves it because it makes them feel really immersed into the show.

- Mello has a tendency to get really loud when he gets really into a joke or bit, so the tech crew has gotten used to lowering the volume on his mic as the show progresses and he gets louder and louder.

- Mello has a harsh sense of humor, often using exaggerations and sarcasm to accentuate a point.

- He would tell stories from his time at Wammy’s house, mainly the chaos moments with Matt because the rest is pretty traumatizing for him.

- It’s his style that draws people in and his sense of humor that keeps them there. He has a very unique clothing style and, even when his managers suggested he dress down for the show as to not scare people away, he refused. He said that he would rather show who he is upfront and let the public decide whether or not to invest time in him than fake his personality for people he doesn’t know or give a shit about. They got the hint pretty quickly after that.

- He would sometimes do joined shows with Matt, which is quite interesting. Their dynamic works perfectly on stage and they even weave jokes that weren’t scripted into the show to keep each other on their toes.

Matt

- He’s a pretty chill guy, so I picture his sense of humor as pretty dry. Not in a bad way, of course. For instance, he tends to say the most hilarious things with a straight face and flat tone, which somehow makes the joke even funnier.

- He likes to involve the audience a lot, so gags where he (with permission) takes an audience member’s phone and reads their texts aloud are common. Somehow he can make jokes about the most mundane of text conversations and have the audience howling.

- Like I mentioned earlier, he and Mello’s contrasting senses of humor work for a perfect dynamic when performing, so shows where they’re together are the audience’s favorite. But even though Mello’s wild passion can take the spotlight at times, Matt is never overshadowed as they’re both sure to include the other in any bit or joke they do.

- For no reason at all I think Matt it great at imitations and impressions of different people. So, like when he’s doing a bit and speaking for someone else he can assign voices for everyone and the audience knows who he’s supposed to be speaking as in that moment. Usually these people are only known to him and Mello, so the audience can’t tell how exactly spot on he is. His impression of Near gets Mello wheezing, and his Mello impression gets the audience wheezing with Mello constantly claiming “I don’t sound like that, idiot!” With the audience shouting “YES YOU DO!”

L

- L’s sense of humor tends to require a specific taste, which is why he would probably be one of the least successful of the bunch.

- Don’t get me wrong, his sense of humor is adorable and one of the best aspects of Death Note in my opinion, but it comes in short and random bursts. He’d be talking about something serious and then crack a joke (“yEs tHat mUst Be dArK”), so it requires patience to really get to his sense of humor.

- The audience, I feel, wouldn’t have the patience to stick around and wait for his humor to surface.

- But L would have a cult following of a specific group of people that appreciate his talents.

- I’m picturing a show in which he starts off by talking about some cases, and transition to jokes from there. Due to his occupation, many jokes involve a darker sense of humor but also contain surprisingly innocent little remarks or comments. I can’t really explain it better, it makes sense in my head but I’m not too sure how to put it into words.

- Most of the show he keeps his straight face, but when he gets the audience going from something he said he can’t help but crack a little smile and chuckle into the mic pretty bashfully.

Near

- I’m sorry but Near doesn’t have too much of a sense of humor. But he does do or say some of the most hilarious shit on accident.

- It was actually Halle that convinced him to take up stand up comedy, as she got to spend tons of time just sitting and talking with him, cracking up at something Near said while he just stared at her in confusion.

- She had complete and total confidence that just plopping Near on stage and telling him to “just talk” would get the audience going, so she took him to a bar that did stand up comedy nights. Near absolutely killed it.

- Eventually he learns what the public finds funny through experimentation and tells those kinds of jokes more often, learning to perfect his craft. Through this method he is able to go from ‘accidentally funny’ to ‘intentionally hilarious’.

Light

- I wholeheartedly believe that Light has no sense of humor. Period.

- Sure, he’s accidentally funny sometimes but not enough to fake it ‘til he makes it like Near did.

- So he gets someone else to write his show for him. He’s just a pretty face, and the person who wrote his show is mentioned once or twice but who really cares about them? It’s Light who’s doing all the work, obviously. He’s the one getting sweaty up on stage.

- Honestly he barely has a sense of humor he’s probably just do it as a side thing for recognition or like most youtubers who write a book or start a podcast.

Matsuda

- Okay so, I definitely think that Matsuda would be one of the most successful stand up comedians out of all of them.

- He’s just so bubbly and kind and just genuinely a wonderful person so who could walk out of a show if his unsatisfied? No one. That’s who.

- My mans here has the opportunity to make so many self deprecating jokes due to how the task force treats him and how he’s just overall looked at as inferior to everyone he works with. And guess what? He doesn’t take that opportunity at all. He thinks self worth is the most important thing in the world and instead focuses his jokes around break room stories and observations of every day life.

- However if he ever does make a self deprecating joke, it’s never with any hatred towards himself. Like, he’ll joke about how his recklessness got him in trouble with Yotsuba, but instead of cursing the trait he has, he always expresses his hopes to get better and learn from his mistakes. Meanwhile the audience is dying at how he tells the story with so much energy and just— ...he’s wonderful.

- He just reminds me of John Mulaney when I picture a show of his.

- He’s pretty goofy by nature and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself up on stage, watching him laugh at his own jokes and beam at the audience with a smile so bright it could rival the spotlight shining down on him.

- He also really likes the attention, having been pushed to the side for so long.

- He’s just overall a really nice and positive guy while also being hilarious to listen to. 10/10.

Misa

- With her already existing music career and fashion career, people know her pretty well. Therefore, there is a HOARD of people waiting to see how she fairs at something so different from her previous career paths.

- And y’know what? Misa’s great at it.

- I’d like to imagine she’s out of her terrible relationship with Light in this au and realize how messed up he was, so I think she’d do a lot of clowning Light in her shows.

- She will kinda mix the comedy with valuable life lessons on relationships, so a lot of fans come up to her and thank her because they let their kids watch her shows and they’ve learned so much from her while being entertained for a good hour.

- Also her voice is so cute and pleasant to listen to I would gladly listen to her talk for a week let alone an hour.

- I imagine her style of show and humor to be along the lines of straight up ranting and just talking her heart out. You know that friend that can talk for hours but it’s okay because they make everything, even the most mundane things, sound dramatic and fun and lively? Yeah, that’s her.

[rocketink]

YOUR EYES TELL

In which you kiss Wonwoo twice at a party while getting over your ex and now you have a huge crush on him while you try to look for your soulmate. Or, your soulmate mark means how many times you’ve kissed them and now you have to ask your exes around while trying to accept there’s no way Wonwoo’s kisses have something to do with you.

Pairing: Wonwoo x gender neutral reader

Genre: angst + fluff

wc: 2.8k (I’m sorry I keep making them so long!!)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and maybe a curse word around there + a very hateful ex that says mean things to y/n :(

notes: credits to tiktok for this type of soulmate!! I found it very interesting haha // mingyu’s minghao’s soulmate aus! I’ve been a little lost I’m sorry, I just need to find inspiration sometimes and I wasn’t feeling like writing:( also!! Shall I continue with soulmate aus or should I start thinking about the gossip girl series?

You still don't know what to do with the number two next to a pair of drawn lips that you can see on top of your head when you watch your reflection in the mirror. This can only mean one thing: you've kissed your soulmate two times. Your mother already warned you, this type of soulmate is almost exclusively from your family, and if your counter says 0 you're in a risky position because you don't feel like kissing random people in any place of their body until you find your other half. But when the day comes and your counter already has the number two in it, you feel nothing but relief. Initially, of course, because that could only meet one thing: you have already kissed that person, a low number of times.

You want to tear your hair apart before dialing Seungkwan. He would either make a big deal out of it or be completely chill and transparent. You don't know if you like what he could tell you, but you decide to take the risk.

"I've got some big news," you say right when he picks up.

"Oh really? Me too!" He seems happy today, that's good.

"On the count to three, we'll say what we have to say, okay?" Seungkwan hums in approval and you sigh.

"I got my soulmate mark today,"

"Vernon has finally asked someone out... WAIT, WHAT?"

"It's so good that Vernon has finally risked his life asking someone out! He still has all the parts of his body doesn't he?"

"Vernon's unlucky love life is not important now, tell me everything about your mark!"

So you tell him, knowing you can explain yourself to the fullest because Seungkwan is fond of details. You tell him how you almost fainted this morning, how glad you are for not having to kiss some stranger's ass, how unsure you are of your future right now and how you can't start the list of how many people you've kissed on your own.

"Let's make a list together, then!" Seungkwan's too giddy about this, he's teasing you, and you know it, "where should we start?"

"Jeon Jungkook."

"Wait, really?"

"Yep, the first year of high school was wild, not much kissing but it was there. Then there's Im Changkyun, but we were still too young so we didn't kiss much, we mainly held hands. And then there's..."

"Kyungho..." Seungkwan whispers his name as if it was forbidden, and you almost laugh at your friend's hatred towards your latest ex.

"Seungkwan, breaking up with someone because you are not compatible is not a bad thing."

"It's not. Doing it over a text message and two weeks after you started dating and then blocking you is."

"Yeah, right." Seungkwan's right, Kyungho was an asshole to you, he behaved like a kid when you were acquaintances and it didn't change when you began dating. Throughout your two weeks of relationship, you saw him like five times because he barely made time for you. You can't remember how many times you've kissed him, but you wouldn't be surprised if only two times happened.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" You close your eyes. This is what you didn't want Seungkwan to remind you.

"Jeon Wonwoo," You say his name in a whisper and you're afraid Seungkwan hasn't even heard you, but he always does. "What happened doesn't count, he... is not available now."

"Y/n, the universe does not care if making out with Wonwoo one night counts or not, or if he's available or not. It happened, there's a possibility, it's there."

Seungkwan is, once again, right, but you don't want to be reminded of that night, or else your feeling for Wonwoo will hurt more than they do now.

It happened the night Kyungho broke up with you. Your feeling for Kyungho weren't the big thing, but you did spend your time and effort trying to make it work. You felt tired of giving and not receiving and ashamed of him being the one to break up with you and not the other way around. Seungkwan said Mingyu was going to a party with a few friends and he invited the golden trio (you, Vernon, Seungkwan) and he didn't let you complain.

You met Jeon Wonwoo at the party. You had seen him around campus a few times, in Mingyu's group of friends, he was incredibly eye-catching. That night, Mingyu introduced both of you properly and you don't know how you started talking. You don't remember much of that night in general, your brain preferred to forget all the traumatic experience of the breakup as the shots you took with Wonwoo kicked in (not many, but you were tired and they hit hard). What you do remember is pouring out your heart to a handsome stranger, him listening to you with beautiful eyes and speaking careful words. You remember kissing him first and Wonwoo following your lead. You remember him stopping you and you almost wanting to cry as you felt his touch all over your face.

"You just want revenge, Y/n. I can't give you that," you closed your eyes, you just wanted to sleep for a while. "Come to me when your head and your heart are completely sobered. Meanwhile, we can be friends." You nodded, a little ashamed. He gave you a sweet peck on the lips and a tight hug. When you got home and thought of what had happened that night, you knew your heart didn't need Kyungho anymore, your heart needed Jeon Wonwoo.

A few daws later, Wonwoo was seen around the halls with a beautiful girl by his side, too close to him, wishing for the same lips to kiss her as you had been kissed. You know from Mingyu that they lasted for two weeks, Wonwoo broke up with the girl, but Wonwoo told you he never liked break-ups. He must be feeling sad.

It's been two weeks ever since, and you are just like you were the first day.

"So your plan is talking to each boy, one by one?" Seungkwan raises his eyebrow. He's judging you.

"Yep, do you have anything better?"

"Are you asking if I have a plan that might not damage your integrity? I'm afraid I don't."

"Then shut up, when the time to find your soulmate gets to you I might not help you." He rolls his eyes and looks at the list you've made with the four names."

"And how are you going to approach them? Do you even know where they are?"

"Jungkook is friends with Mingyu, I'll try to talk to him without Mingyu knowing... Somehow. I still follow Changkyun on Instagram, that won't be hard. The only hard one is Kyungho, I don't know anything about him, thank God"

"And Wonwoo is the most approachable one, isn't he? Why don't you talk to him first?"

"No damaging my integrity is what we are looking for, remember?"

"I still don't understand why you don't want to talk to him. He is a nice guy, he'll be very chill about anything."

You almost tell Seungkwan that that's the problem. That night shouldn't have happened, not when you were heartbroken and Wonwoo was into someone else. Maybe that's the thing that hurt you, Wonwoo liking someone else and being heartbroken because of the break-up.

"I'd better talk to Changkyun now, the sooner the better, right?"

Talking to Changkyun was both a victory and a loss. He was a good friend of yours when you were younger and it's been a lot since you last talked to him. He wasn't weirded out by the sudden soulmate topic and instead he spoke freely about it, you suddenly remember how he had always been an open-minded guy. However, he had already found his soulmate.

You move on to the next person on your list almost immediately. Talking to Jeon Jungkook without Mingyu knowing was harder than you thought it would, mainly because you know nothing about him ever since he moved a few years ago, and you can't find him on Instagram or twitter. You know the only thing you can do is ask Mingyu directly, so you get Seungkwan to do it for you.

"Why do you want Jungkook's number?" Seungkwan looks at you after Mingyu pops out the question, you expected him to just give it to you, he is not the type to get into someone's business. He must be really curious.

"Just... Woozi told me... he's looking for a singer for his new song... Yeah... that,"

"Aren't you and Dokyeom his singers?"

Seungkwan looks uneasy. He is too honest, he doesn't like lying. He keeps on looking and you and you decide to help him help you because this is not looking good.

"You know how stressed he's being lately, Mingyu," You feel Mingyu's, Seungkwan's, and Wonwoo's eyes on you, "He thinks that trying a new voice will help him,"

"Then why isn't he asking me himself?"

"Mingyu, just give them Jungkook's number, it's not that deep," Wonwoo steps in "Excuse him, ever since he found his soulmate he is not as nice as he was."

Mingyu complies as his hyung tells him and you feel your heartbeat rising. You don't talk to Wonwoo a lot after that night so listening to his voice feels like reliving the events. Especially when his eyes don't leave yours, almost as if saying 'I know you're lying'. That night, he sends you a text

Wonwoo: Have fun with Jeon Wonwoo is typing... Wonwoo is on line

Whatever he was writing, you'll never know. You couldn't answer the text either

You don't know what's funnier, Kyungho trying to delete himself from your life or you trying to locate him back. Jungkook was not your soulmate. He actually gave up his soulmate life after a very tragic story with his supposed-to-be soulmate and now he dedicates his life to art, in any of the ways. It was a sad story, you cried like a baby at your situation and then at his while he laughed softly and told you soft thing like he always did. It was gratificating.

But now, your list only points towards one direction, and that is Kyungho's old working place, a café near some beautiful parks, and an outdoor basketball court Kyungho himself used to play in. He did a lot of things but being a good boyfriend or friend, actually.

You feel scared for a second 'will he be there?', 'How will he react?' 'What if he's my soulmate?' You stopped in your tracks. You didn't want to have such an awful person as a boyfriend. Great, another fear added to your list! But when you find the guts to come inside the café and he is right there, wearing the same clothes and same hairstyle he always had, you feel like ending all this as soon as possible.

His gaze changes when he recognizes you, surprised.

"Hi, Kyungho. I know you don't want to see me, but can we talk?"

"My shift ends in ten," he speaks after a few seconds "wait for me outside"

You do as he asks. For a second, you think he might run away through the back door or something, but he complies and meets you outside the café.

"What are you doing here?" Straight to the point, as he's always done.

You roll your eyes and he keeps a straight face.

"Have you found your soulmate?"

He laughs as if you had told the funniest joke.

"What now, baby? You want me as your soulmate so bad?" You want to slap him in the face.

"Just answer my damn question."

"Why do you think I left?" Your eyes go wide. Does this mean that he... You almost feel like crying, why does your soulmate have to be him and not Wonwoo? You shouldn't have, but you must admit you had gotten your hopes up for a second. "I'm joking! You should have seen your face!"

"So... No soulmate then?" You ask, pretending to find his joke boring when you're just furious.

"No, no soulmate Y/n. I feel nothing when it comes to you." Your hand moves faster than you think, and you surprise yourself when he grabs your wrist before your hand can reach his face.

"Nice try, Y/n. Maybe try again?"

"What if I do it for them?" You could recognize that voice everywhere. Kyungho turns around and there he is, Jeon Wonwoo. He is so close to Kyungho it's almost comical: Wonwoo is a bit taller, so Kyungho looks like a defenseless animal. "I play basketball nearby, you know? I wouldn't mind using you like a ball."

Kyungho is going to make another comment, you know that, but Wonwoo doesn't let him.

"Let's go, Y/n. We have better things to do." Wonwoo puts his hands in his pockets and begins to walk and you follow him, without looking back at a very scared Kyungho.

"Do you always go around asking exes if they've found their soulmates?" He asks and you blush.

"Not really"

"I'm guessing it was not just some random thought?"

You sigh, you didn't want to have this conversation.

"No. My soulmate mark has appeared and I had to do something about it."

"Oh, how random, mine has appeared too." You want to ask him directly about it, but you can't find your voice. "It's a number, what about yours?"

"A number too"

"That's nice!" He smiles sweetly, your heart is about to burst "Which number?"

"Two"

"Oh." He looks lost in thought for a second "Well, at least it's not Kyungho"

"Yeah, I don't even know why I dated him"

"I'm wondering the same thing. You deserve so much better," how can he be so chill about all this? All you can think is how he is the last person on your list.

"Jeon isn't your soulmate either." It wasn't a question, he was just confirming it.

"How do you know... about that?"

"I told you, Mingyu is not as nice as he was. He likes to gossip now, with his soulmate. Jungkook told him how he wished you found a soulmate who treated you nicely and how comforting he found your chic-chat"

That guy...

"I guess the universe thought I deserve something else, but what could be better than Jungkook?" You joke.

"Maybe try with another Jeon?" He chuckles when you don't answer him.

Does he know...?

"Aren't you going to ask me what my number is?" He knows.

"What is your number, Wonwoo?"

"Ten." What? If Wonwoo isn't your soulmate then... You will never recover from this low blow. "You seem surprised."

"I just- I thought that maybe... You know since that night... And I might be wrong but I'm sure I've never kissed anyone else apart from my exes and you... I'm sorry, I must have made this uncomfortable."

"Oh no, absolutely not" He is trying his best to stay calm, but you can tell he's a little nervous "so your soulmate mark is how many times you've kissed them?"

"Yeah"

"Mine too" Could this be possible? That much of a coincidence?

"That's... Curious, I think"

"It is." He is looking at you again with that look, the one that says 'I know everything about you even before you do' but this time you catch up.

"You think that we..."

"There's only one way to try."

When his lips meet yours just like they did that night, you find the same comforting feeling. It's like being pulled, like magnets. You feel safe.

And then you remember something you had forgotten about that night. You were feeling sad and tired, but Wonwoo's presence made everything better, your eyes were closed. You had kissed Wonwoo for the first time but then he cut you off and told you to come back when you were sober (but you were sober!). You thought he was caressing your face slowly with his fingers, trying to comfort you, but he actually gave you a kiss.

One on your right cheek, then another one on your left, then another one at the tip of your nose. His lips moved your jaw and placed a small kiss there, then on your chin and another one very close to your mouth and finally he planted a kiss on your forehead and you opened your eyes. He then kissed the back of your hand which made both of you laugh.

It is true that you kissed him two times, and it is true that he kissed you ten.

When you parted, a small eleven was placed on top of his head with a pair of drawn lips just like yours.

"I see a three there, soulmate." He pointed to the top of your head.

"And I see an eleven there, soulmate." You do the same thing he did. He hugs you "I'm so glad it's you, Wonwoo. You don't know how confused I was, I thought you were broken-hearted because of a break-up!"

"You just made that up by yourself! You should have asked me first instead of Jungkook or Kyungho."

"I know. I was scared you would end up being my soulmate but you wouldn't like me back"

"Y/n, I'm head over heels for you." You smile and he leans closer "You know what? I hate odd numbers."

"Me too."

He kisses you one more time.

[lightsupinthenorth]

It’s the little things

Summary: Instead of giving up on trying to convince Mobius that the TVA agents are variants during their conversation in episode 4, Loki comes up with a new tactic to help him see the light.

Excerpt: "He interrupts Mobius’ rant by slamming both his hands on the table and shouting, seemingly out of the blue: 'you’re left-handed!'"

Read on AO3

Loki’s just blurted out to Mobius that the TVA agents are all variants, in a last-ditch attempt at convincing him they’re on the same side. And also in the hope it will make him shut up about Sylvie and what he thinks Loki feels for her.

Loki goes on, expanding on the bomb he just dropped, talking about Mobius’ hypothetical past and family, hoping it will be enough to make the walls Mobius built around himself crumble.

Once Loki’s said his piece, Mobius keeps silent for a beat. Long enough for Loki to believe it might work out.

Mobius looks rattled. So much so that Loki thinks he actually got through to him.

However, Loki’s hopes are annihilated with two little words:

“Nice try”.

These aren’t the kind of words Loki would ever react well to. Because “nice try”, despite posing as praise, is always thrown at you to point out you failed. Coming from Mobius, it hurts worse than being stabbed. Because, it doesn’t only mean “you failed”. It also means “you lied so many times before that I think everything that comes out of your mouth is just another lie”. It means “I don’t trust you”.

And, really, can Loki blame Mobius for that? He’s been trying his hardest to appear ten steps ahead of everyone ever since he arrived at the TVA, and now his pride and arrogance have turned against him. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but there’s no getting used to it.

As cracks are slowly forming in Loki’s cold black heart, getting it closer and closer to shattering, Mobius starts going off about Loki and Sylvie again.

Loki’s failed on both counts, then: Mobius doesn’t believe him, and he still won’t stop ranting. And he had the nerves to complain about Loki’s yacking!

Loki considers giving up and letting Mobius do whatever he wants with him. However, as he watches Mobius reach for the TemPad with his dominant hand, he’s suddenly hit by a ridiculous – and probably bound to fail – idea. Loki might have a lot of flaws (not that he’d admit to many, if any, of them), but he’s nothing if not resourceful. He thought telling Mobius he was a variant was a last ditch-attempt, but he apparently has another dagger up his sleeve. Its blade is not very sharp, to the point it might as well be made of rubber. Still, Loki will try to make something out of it. He has to try.

He interrupts Mobius’ rant by slamming both his hands on the table and shouting, seemingly out of the blue: “you’re left-handed!”

*

Mobius stops mid-sentence, thrown out of his depth. He sighs, trying to convey exasperation instead of the surprise he really feels. He shouldn’t be surprised by anything Loki comes up with, at this point. It’s not his fault this mad man (god, whatever) still manages to be unpredictable once in a while.

“What’s that got to do with any of it?”

“I… It’s just… Hear me out. I know you don’t trust me, but think about it… really think about it. What the TVA told you about the agents being created by the Time-Keepers doesn’t make sense.”

“You lost me.”

Mobius has no idea how Loki had gone from him being left-handed to “the Time-Keepers didn’t create the TVA agents”. He’s going to need a step-by-step explanation of the process.

Loki briefly looks down, takes a deep breath and then goes back to looking at Mobius, as if bracing himself for something.

“You’re left-handed-“

Mobius opens his mouth to interrupt Loki, because, really, this is becoming ridiculous and they’re running in circles. Loki is probably just stalling for time in order to concoct a new ploy that will get him out of the hole he dug himself. He doesn’t have time to say any of this, though. Loki notices he’s not on board and cuts himself off to say:

“Please, let me get this out. Please.”

His hands are now joined in supplication and his bright blue eyes are desperate and suspiciously shiny. Mobius has seen a lot of Loki’s life, which has included its fair share of tears. That’s how he knows he couldn’t take it if Loki started crying.

So, instead of protesting as he first intended to, he just nods, allowing Loki to resume.

“Thank you. The ‘left-handed’ thing is only the first one on a list of things corroborating my main point. If the Time-Keepers had really created you, why would they have bothered to make you left-handed even though it’s not the norm? Why would you have a sweet-tooth? Why would you be weirdly fascinated by jetskis? When you look at the TVA and the way it’s organised, would you peg the Time-Keepers as beings who would care about giving their agents any type of particularities? The way I see it, if you had been created by them, you’d all be robots passing as human beings, not people with their own personalities… Besides, have your seen your nose? It’s obviously been broken before. Probably several times. Do you even remember that happening?”

Mobius instinctively raises a hand to his nose, tracing the jagged shape of it. He’s still trying to process everything Loki said, and it’s a lot.

His thoughts, as soon as he manages to gather them, jump to the possible reason why Loki’s noticed and remembered all these little things about him. It doesn’t mean Loki cares. Of course it doesn’t. he was probably only gathering intel. Besides, isn’t it absurd that Mobius would focus on this instead of focusing on the point Loki is making?

Because, he is making a point. Isn’t he?

No matter how little is known about the Time-Keepers, Mobius can admit it indeed seems out-of-character for them to have bothered with making their agents have quirks. And he indeed does not remember breaking his nose. Why would the Time-Keepers have made him look this way voluntarily? It serves no purpose.

“Say something, please.”

Mobius regains focus after having lost himself in his thoughts, and he stares into Loki’s eyes. He decides to indulge Loki and speaks, not because Loki asked nicely – after all, the god is more often than not very polite despite his numerous less than pleasant personality traits –, but because everything in his posture suggests he’s on the verge of falling apart:

“Okay… I can see where you’re coming from.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous: Loki’s entire body sags from the relief.

“I’m gonna need more proof than that before I really buy your theory, though.” Mobius says. He’s got to keep Loki on his toes. He can’t have him believe he’s got Mobius wrapped around his little finger (even though he does).

“Proof… well, Sylvie can give you proof. As I said she can access your memories and-“

“Nope, nope, nope. There ain’t no way I’m letting her anywhere near my head to access so-called memories that might not even exist.” Mobius might have admitted to himself that Loki had a point. However, he’s going to pretend there’s still a chance he’s entirely wrong about all this, because if he’s right it means Mobius’s whole life is a lie and Mobius doesn’t have the faintest idea of how he’d deal with that.

“Can’t you do it?” He adds. Apparently, he’s lost every ounce of self-preservation instinct he’s ever possessed. He’s expecting a barb from Loki, something along the lines of “So you do trust me, Mobius, I’m touched”.

He gets none of that. Loki has really decided to catch him off guard today.

Loki doesn’t say anything. He stares at Mobius as if he’d grown a second head. After barely two seconds, though, he snaps out of it, and answers calmly:

“I don’t know how. But… maybe I could learn.”

“Okay… I suppose you’ll need your demented alter-ego for that?”

Loki cringes, which is answer enough.

Mobius sighs. He does that far too often around Loki.

“Right, let’s go get her, then.”

Loki goes back to staring at him as if he’d grown a second head, then. Eyes wide, mouth agape. Mobius would find it funny if the situation wasn’t so dire.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t trust her. And I don’t trust you, either… But I can’t go on with my life as if you fuckers hadn’t just upended it with your crazy variant theory… So I guess I’ll take my chances.”

Mobius gets up and Loki imitates him. Mobius is already moving in the direction of the door when Loki stops him by grabbing his forearm. Mobius turns back toward him and arches an eyebrow in question.

“I know it won’t mean much to you but…  I have your back. I promise I won’t stab it… again. And I’ll make sure Sylvie doesn’t either.”

Mobius doesn’t trust Loki right now. He has no guarantee that he can. Most of Loki’s past suggests he cannot. But, stupidly, Mobius wants to. He really wants to trust him. It wouldn’t take a lot from Loki to make him. He won’t let it show, though. He’s stupid, but not this stupid.

“Right. Time will tell, I suppose.”

Loki is thoroughly unimpressed by Mobius’ time-related pun. It’s fine, though. Mobius is amused enough for the both of them. He smiles at Loki’s grumpy expression.

“Oh come on, it was funny!”

“A dagger through the heart would be funnier.”

Mobius rolls his eyes. Loki is such a drama-queen. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.  

“Come on, you buzzkill. Let’s go before someone decides to prune your evil twin sister for real.”

Loki groans. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

*

Loki will keep telling himself that: he’s a skilled liar, especially when it comes to lying to himself, and he cannot cope with the truth right now (the truth being that he’s far too fond of Mobius for his own good). He’ll deal with it after they deal with the giant pile of their current problems.

First step: go to Sylvie. Second step: hightail it out of here

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

[a-froger-epic]

aww freddie drabbles yay!

here's a few, choose whichever you like :)

- freddie and roger in high school/uni and a meet cute

- freddie and brian composing

- freddie babysitting john's children and singing vocal improv to them (i was that anon yeah, the one who sent it in first)

Alright, seeing as I've already just done Freddie+kiddies and I was talking about a "She's All That" AU on the server to you all (I am so sorry, I realise you're too young to know it, BUT watch the music video linked below and you'll get the idea) Also this turned into a Roger drabble instead because it was funnier that way 😁

Here's a High School AU Froger meet cute "She's All That" style!

*queues Sixpence None The Richer 'Kiss Me'*

- - -

Crystal could be such a prat, but this time Roger didn't mind almost being knocked off his feet as his mate and the rest of the water polo team swooped in on him from behind.

True to form, Crystal jumped on his back and almost sent him stumbling into Kelsey, who Roger had been talking to, all while looking for a good reason to stop talking to her, because while she definitely had a killer rack, and he'd spent more time than he'd like to admit perving over her Insta, most of which prominently featured her arse from one angle or another, she was also incredibly, painfully dull. She'd spent the last ten minutes talking about her holiday in the south of France, although the entire story had mostly consisted of detailed descriptions of her parent's yacht. It had a fridge with an ice cube dispenser, several gaming systems and a flatscreen tv, Roger now knew.

Luckily, she decided to take her leave as his noisy mates arrived and he waved her goodbye, admiring her Instagram-famous derriere as she walked away.

He wasn't the only one. When he tore his eyes away, most of his mates were still oogling her.

"Oi!" Roger elbowed Gery, who happened to be standing right next to him and was gaping open-mouthed, in the ribs. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

On the other side of him, Crystal gave a low, appreciative whistle. "So," he grinned, "did you ask her to prom or what?"

Roger snorted, crossing his arms. That had been the plan, of course. Ask Kelsey to prom. And he'd meant to. He wasn't afraid. It was just that, for all her good looks, and despite the fact that she was the most popular girl in their year by far, he just... hadn't really felt like it, once he'd started talking to her.

"Nah," he said with a shrug. "Still considering my options."

His water polo team mates stated disbelieving.

"Mate," said Gery, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Are you for real? That girl's a ten out of ten and I heard," he dropped his voice a little, "she's proper up for it, you know?"

Crystal slung an arm around Roger's shoulders, shaking his head. "What are you thinking? You're the most popular guy in our year, she's the most popular girl, you're bloody perfect for each other, innit. And we're all fuckin' jealous, mate!"

Roger grimaced, throwing him a look. "Whatever. I could go to prom with whoever I like and," he grinned, "they'd be popular by association."

"Oh yeah?" Crystal raised his eyebrows, grinning back at him.

"Damn right," Roger assured him, "anyone in this school, you wanna bet?"

As the rest of his team mates headed off home, Roger, Crystal and Gery walked toward the parking lot where they'd left their electric scooters - and Crystal's hoverboard.

"D'you know," said the very same, a lop-sided grin on his face, "I do wanna bet."

"You what?" Roger blinked at him, not sure what he was talking about.

"I bet," said Crystal, and the grin on his face turned very smug, "that there's no fucking way you can make anyone popular just by going to prom with them."

"Oh yeah?" said Roger, feigning non-chalant confidence.

"Yeah." His friend stopped and stretched out his hand, eyebrows raised. "Seriously, wanna bet?"

Roger Taylor was many things. He was a drummer and lead singer in a teenage band that was definitely going to make it big. He was the captain of the water polo team. He was going to ace his A levels because no matter what some people thought, he wasn't an idiot.

He also most definitely wasn't someone who shied away from a bet.

"Sure thing." Roger shook Crystal's hand.

They continued across the school yard, with Crystal trying to spy the perfect candidate.

"Oh, shit, look! What about her?" he snickered, pointing to Brianna May, who had her fingers buried in her wild mass of curly hair and was sitting at a table, bent over a book as though trying to memorise the contents of it.

"Nah," said Crystal, before Roger could comment. "Oh! What about Deaky?"

Gery guffawed.

"Yeah, right." Roger turned to follow Crystal's gaze, to where a girl with an undercut stood, wearing ripped black tights, shorts and a flannel shirt, her hand around her girlfriend Ronnie's waist. "That's cheating, pick someone who's available and also," he gave Crystal a look, "no lesbians."

"Yeah, fair enough," Crystal conceded. And then, his eyes lit up. "Oh shit, oh yes."

Roger followed his friend's line of sight and stopped, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Struggling to ascend the stairs from the arts classroom in the basement, juggling several sketchbooks, two canvases and an easel, was Freddie Bulsara.

"You're not serious," Roger scoffed, turning to look at Crystal, fully expecting him to burst out laughing any moment.

But Crystal only nodded, still smirking in Freddie's direction. "Oh yeah."

"No way!" Roger protested, glancing back at Freddie, who had managed to fall over with all the things he was holding and struggled to get back up, wavy strands of hair that had escaped from the bun on top of his head obscuring his face. "He's a bloke!"

"So?" Crystal's grin was positively wicked now. He gave Roger a look and a shrug. "It's 2021, innit. You said you could take anyone to prom and they'd be popular-"

"How d'you now he'd even be interested-" Roger started, but cut himself off. Yeah, he didn't have a leg to stand on with that question. Freddie was definitely not straight and their whole year knew it. "Listen," Roger rolled his eyes, regretting what he had got himself into, "I can deal with fat, I can deal with ugly or socially awkward, but a guy and plain weird? Come on!"

"A bet's a bet," Crystal waggled his eyebrows, and Roger turned to Gery for support, who held up his hands.

"Hey, you made that bet with Crys, not me!"

"And now you're losing time," Crystal pointed out, nodding in the direction of the skinny boy in the paint-stained jean overalls who was hurrying toward the school gates now.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Roger took a deep breath and went after him, Crystal and Gery on his heels. Freddie stopped by a bench right beside school gates, in front of a girl who had been sitting there waiting. She rose to her feet, taking the sketchbooks off him to lighten his load.

"Hey," said Roger, when he was close enough to be within war shot. "Freddie, what's up? You got a minute?"

Both Freddie and the much younger girl who Roger was pretty sure had to be his sister turned to look at him. The girls eyes went wide, as thought she couldn't believe Roger Taylor himself was speaking to her brother, but Freddie's eyes narrowed. In all fairness, Roger though, he had never had a go at Freddie or made fun of him, although some others did. Some people who he hung out with and considered friends.

"What," Freddie replied curtly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes darted to Crystal and Gery, who were standing right behind Roger, and his expression darkened.

"Just thought we could... have a chat," Roger tried lamely, and heard Crystal supress a snicker.

Freddie stated at him for a long moment, eyes full of suspicion.

"I'm alright," he said, and turned back to his sister. "Come on, Kash, let's go."

And with that, he swept past Roger and his mates and walked out of the school gates, followed by his sister, who cast Roger a dreamy smile on the way out.

"Or you could just..." Roger watched them go, shaking his head in disbelief. "...embarass me, why don't you?"

Jesus Christ. This was going to be one hell of a mission.

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 2

I.II

Masterlist

Warnings: None

"Please don’t tell me you started this paper last night," You groan as you hold out your hand for Katie’s essay as you intend to hand them in to Professor Hotchner.

"Fine. I didn’t start this paper last night," You roll your eyes as a shit-eating grin spreads across your best friends face

"God you’re so judgy, Sigmund," She snorts and starts shoving her books into her bag. You furrow your brows in horror at the nickname.

"Absolutely not," You laugh.

She smiles at you, "Freud?"

"Why can’t we just stick with Einstein?" You argue with her, your classmates filing out all around you.

"Come on kid, changing the nickname is funnier," She stands up, slinging her bag onto her shoulder.

"Funnier for who? You or me?"

"Both of us."

"For someone nearly 5 years my senior you sure act like a child," You roll your eyes and turn to walk your papers to the front of the class. You try to avoid Professor Hotchner’s eye line, but he glances up from tucking his papers into a briefcase to take the two essays from your hand. Your fingers touch his as you hand them in but you’re quick to pull away, "Sorry, sir."

To say you’re terrified of Hotchner would be an understatement. After your disastrous first day of class, you can’t catch a break. He’s overly critical of every fucking word you say in class. So much so, that you’ve resigned to barely participating at all. But that just spurs him on to cold call on you.

"Freud?" Hotchner quirks up an eyebrow as he looks over your essay, flipping through the pages.

Your face grows to a wonderful shade of pink and you focus your eyes on the essay in his hands. Then you realize you’re staring a little too much at his hands. "I hope my work is to your satisfaction, Sir."

You don’t have to look up at him to know that fucking pompous smirk is quickly spreading across his face, "We’ll see."

You nod, turning away to snatch up your bag and grab Katie’s hand dragging her out of the class as fast as possible.

She’s unable to contain her laughter as you speed out, "Oh my god! You’re such a little teacher's pet."

"Will you shut up?"

"I hope it’s to your satisfaction sir!" She teases you, mocking the high pitch tone of your voice.

"You’re insufferable," You punch her arm lightly.

---

You shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around your body. You’re not wearing much which isn’t helping with the chilly New York air. However, getting into a club under the age of 21 means less clothing and a lot of confidence, a pairing that seems kind of counterproductive. You glance over at Katie and your larger group of friends.

One of your male friends, Charlie, walks over to ruffle your hair playfully, "Don’t worry kid, we’ll get you in."

You roll your eyes, "Charlie, I’m not a kid."

"You’re the youngest here, therefore you are the kid in this friend group." He hands you the small flask from his pocket and you down the remaining liquor inside of it.

"I’ve had boyfriends older than you," You hand it back, pressing it against his chest as you do. "Besides, I’m the most responsible one here."

He raises a brow, "Says the girl who just downed nearly two shots of tequila from my flask." As you step to the door of the club the bouncer gives you a fast once over before looking among the group of friends before simply letting you inside. "See? So nervous and for what, da Vinci?" He grins as you step inside.

"Da Vinci? Really?" You laugh, "Not you too."

"Did you know da Vinci actually had one of the highest IQs in history? Estimated at nearly 220!" As you step further into the club, the music starts to drown out Charlie’s ramblings.

"That’s it!" You chuckle as Katie is quick to bring over a round of shots, "No more stupid nicknames." You gesture at your group with the shot in hand before downing it.

"Aw, I thought Sigmund was gonna stick," One of your friends pipes up and you flip them off.

"I’m not giving up on Einstein, that’s fucking cute," Charlie rests an arm on your shoulder.

"See! That’s what I said," Katie smirks.

"Einstein is better than ‘kid,’" You roll your eyes. "And Freud? Really?"

"Sorry I embarrassed you in front of your boyfriend," Katie teases, hiding her large smile behind her glass.

"Einstein has a boyfriend?" Charlie turns to you.

"No." You reply curtly.

"Oh, Professor Hotchner I hope you like my essay! Oh, Professor Hotchner, I’m sorry I was late. Sorry, sir, won’t happen again." Katie continues to tease you, mocking your voice, "Oh Hotchner if I mess up you can spank me!" At that Charlie laughs harder and throws his arm around your shoulders.

"That’s it!" Your face is burning, not only from embarrassment but the alcohol you very quickly consumed is finally getting to you. You establish a vice grip on Katie’s wrist and drag her out towards the dance floor. A few of your friends follow the two of you.

"You can’t deny he’s hot!" Katie yells over the loud music as you and all your friends begin to dance around like idiots.

"Of course he’s hot," A friend agrees.

"Yeah but he’s an asshole," You shake your head.

"That makes him a million times hotter," Katie smirks at you.

"You have some serious issues," You roll your eyes but you can’t help but agree with her. Is he an asshole? Yes. But the way he looks at you. The way he’s so confident, so smart. He commands the attention of the whole classroom with just his presence. The way he can reduce you to stuttering just from leaning against his desk or taking a few strides towards you. The way his hands brushed against yours today when you handed in your paper.

"I would drop everything to fuck him," Another one of your friends joins in agreement with Katie.

"Maybe that’s the key to getting an A in his class," You scoff and shake your head, "He obviously doesn’t care about hard work, preparation, participation."

"Oh you’re just bitter because he doesn’t worship you," Katie laughs, "You know you can’t be every professor’s favorite all the time."

"Yeah but—" You turn to her and someone far behind her catches your eye, "Oh you have to be fucking joking." He’s sitting at a table in the back of the bar. He’s next to another man around his age, you assume another professor or a work friend of his. However, he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to what the man next to him is saying.

"What?" Katie whips around, following your eye line to the back of the bar. "Holy shit he looks good!" She grins.

Professor Hotchner’s eyes are trained on you and his focus is unwavering. Little by little all your friends turn and notice him sitting there watching you. He raises his glass with that smug smirk on his face, almost as if to greet you.

Like a group of lovesick teenagers, all your friends give him sweet smiles and little waves. You roll your eyes, "Can we please get away from his eyesight? He’s making me sick to my stomach."

"Sick to your stomach? He looks hot," Katie gives another laugh and wave to Hotchner and he shakes his head slightly. You can tell he isn’t paying attention to your friends, he’s just looking at you.

"It’s in his name," Your other friend jokes as the three of you walk to the bar, to get away from the hot, crowded dance floor, "Hotchner."

You lean against the bar, slightly sweaty and panting as you slide onto the stool. "Could I just get a glass of water?" The bartender nods, sliding over a small glass. You trace your finger around the rim. "Isn’t it creepy that he’s here?"

"Creepy? It’s a popular bar."

"Well, he has to know students come here to hang out."

"We’re all adults."

"Well most of us," Charlie teases as he comes up behind the three of you.

"Last time I checked, anyone over the age of 18 is an adult," You elbow his chest, "Oh wait, you’re 24 and you’re still a child."

He sticks his tongue out at you and takes your glass of water, sipping from it.

"Hey! That’s mine!" You laugh and he shrugs before disappearing back onto the crowded dance floor with your other friend.

"He was looking at you a lot," Katie chuckles, "Maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you think."

"No he hates me," You groan and lean more of your weight onto the bartop. "Which it really does not help that he’s so fucking hot right now—" You turn to look around to where he was sitting previously to see that he’s no longer there.

"Having a good night, ladies?" You hear a deep voice come from your left and you nearly jump out of your seat. When you turn to look, Professor Hotchner stands right next to you and Katie.

"Professor Hotchner!" You jump slightly. "We were just—"

"Heading out for a dance," Katie grins and turns, leaving you alone at the bar with your professor.

You give an awkward, forced smile as Professor Hotchner slides into a seat two away from yours. "Whiskey, neat, and…" He glances over at you, "Whatever she wants."

"Vodka soda," You nod at the bartender, who pauses and looks at you for another second. Usually, your friends order the drinks for you so as not to get you thrown out but you’re putting on your best face of confidence.

"I think she asked you for a vodka soda," Hotchner repeats a little firmly as he holds out a black card. The bartender’s eyes shoot down to the card. He takes it and gives a small nod and smile your way.

"Thanks," You glance at him and pull the glass close to you. You can feel Professor Hotchner’s eyes on you as you pull it up and take a long sip.

He chuckles lightly and slides into the seat next to you, "Einstein?" He glances at you and you finally look up into his warm brown eyes.

"Uh yeah… it’s a nickname," You try not to maintain his eye contact for too long.

"Any particular origin story of it or…?"

"I’m the youngest in my friend group," You nod. "And probably the smartest."

"How modest of you," He teases.

"It’s just the truth."

"It’s cute," He laughs and looks down into his glass.

You attempt to remain icy towards him, "So do you buy every one of your students drinks or just the ones you hate the most."

"Who said I hate you?" He looks back over at you.

"Please," You roll your eyes at him.

"So I’m tough on you, doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I actually like you quite a lot," He replies honestly, leaning in closer, "You’re very bold in class. Always ready to correct your classmates when they’re wrong. Very… passionate," He glances down at your body quickly before looking back into your eyes.

"Professor Hotchner—" You start but he cuts you off.

"Hotch," He smiles and you glance over at him. Here, in this bar, he’s just about the most handsome, charming man you’ve ever met but all you can think about is the ruthless law professor who never lets you get a word in edgewise in class.

"Hotch," You start, but it feels wildly uncomfortable when you see the smile growing on his face as you do, "Look, sir, please don’t take this as disrespectful, but full transparency I’ve had a little bit too much to drink to be polite. You’re quite frustrating and confusing." He lets out a laugh at that and it catches you off guard, and not because he’s laughing but because it’s so unexpected. For such a mean, harsh, professor, his laugh is full of vibrancy.

"Are you laughing at me?" You furrow your brows.

"Sorry, but were you trying to be mean? " He teases, "Because it was very adorable."

Your face flushes again, "No I just… I think your actions are confusing."

"What actions?"

"Buying me this drink and flirting with me in this bar and embarrassing me in class." You huff out and start to stand.

"Well, you were extraordinarily late," He shrugs and you dig through your purse, before slamming down a 20 dollar bill in front of him.

"Thank you for the drink but good night," You reply angrily, before adding, "Sir." In fear of getting further on your professor’s bad side. You storm away, phishing through the crowds of people as you try to exit the bar. You take a few steps outside and look around, not quite sure why you bothered to storm out, knowing you have nowhere to go and your friends are still inside.

You shake your head and turn to go back in and that’s when you see Hotch exit the bar looking around for you. "Oh god," You groan softly.

"Like I said, very adorable when you’re angry." He teases you with a smirk, his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

You turn and try to walk down the street away from him, but again, realize you have nowhere to go and wandering around alone, and drunk, late at night out of anger is not the best decision. You stop a little bit away from him and turn to look at him. Just as you expect, he’s staring at you with that smug grin of his. He starts to walk towards you slowly, his eyes running up and down your body slowly. "Do I scare you?"

"No," You try to keep your posture confident and your voice firm but you stumble just a little bit as he draws closer to you and you attempt to move away. "Look, you can’t do this."

"Do I intimidate you?" He smirks and takes a few steps closer to you. As he moves closer and closer, you feel your heart thumping rapidly against your chest.

"No, but—" You pause, "You can’t bully me in class and then get flirty with me in a bar. It’s confusing and cruel—" At this point your back hits the brick wall of the club behind you.

Hotch moves in close, placing one hand flat against the wall right by your head. He cranes his neck down so his face is just inches away. You avert your eyes away, scared to look up into his, scared of what you might do. He places his fingers under your chin tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him. Once your eyes meet his, you arch your back, bringing your face closer to his, "So you don’t want me to kiss you right now?"

He grins down at you and you find yourself leaning up towards his lips, "No," You let out breathily. You let your eyes flutter closed and arch even closer. You suck in a small breath as his calloused fingers run up your bare thigh, slip just under the hem of your dress.

You find yourself gripping his shirt tightly in your fist in an attempt to pull him closer. The moment seems to last forever, with your chest pressed against his warm, muscled chest. His fingertips rise higher and higher. He grips your thigh firmly in his large hands and pulls you completely flush against him, eliciting a small moan from you.

Just as you feel the slightest brush of his lips against yours you can feel a smirk spread across his face. "That’s what I thought." He grins and the warmth of his body that was just so close to yours disappears. As soon as you open your eyes, he’s already disappearing down the street and turning out of sight.

And you’re left standing in the cold, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Chapter 3: I.III →

[the-rad-pineapple]

substance abuse

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Supernatural fanfiction: Set in season 8, Sam and Dean get into a big fight, so Dean turns to alcohol to solve his problems.

Words: first 2k words are here, the rest of the 13k word story can be found on

ao3

fanfiction

wattpad

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I had a crazy depressive episode in January this year, and the only thing that brought me serotonin was Destiel. So the result was me not leaving my room for three days and writing the majority of this story on the notes app on my phone. I have some ideas on how to finish this, but I haven't had inspiration to continue since March. Maybe I'll finish it someday, but I hope you enjoy what's there. Thanks for reading!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean was finally in a good mood. The bar near their motel was surprisingly decent. It had good music, but it also helped that Dean had one too many drinks. So that meant everything was just a little funnier. He was well past the stage of being buzzed and dangerously tipsy. He and Sam had gotten into a little fight earlier, so he was solving it the only way he knew. Alcohol. He took another couple shots against his better judgment. Hey, the more alcohol he was drinking, the better his mood was getting, so why not?

He just finished setting his last shot glass down when someone sat down beside him. It was a guy around Dean's age with dark stubble and bleached blond hair beginning to darken at the roots. He had colorful tattoos swirling up his arms. They were pretty. The man turned to look at Dean, and the way he had to brush his hair from his eyes made Dean feel...something. He smiled playfully at Dean, and Dean felt his heart flutter.

You know what? Fuck it. He was having a good time, and this guy was hot. It had been a while since Dean had been with anyone, let alone another guy... Dean shoved that thought away and winked at the man sitting next to him.

The man raised a playful eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes wandered down Dean's body. Dean felt his cheeks heat up, but he had enough alcohol in his system for the shyness to pass quickly in place of confidence.

"I'm Marco," the guy—Marco—introduced.

"I'm Dean."

"What are you doing here, Dean?" The way he drew out Dean's name made Dean shiver.

Dean shrugged casually. "Nothing much." He looked pointedly at Marco. "Looking for something fun to do."

Marco smirked. "Like what?"

Dean slowly looked down Marco's body. He was wearing a printed button-up shirt, with too many buttons undone, so Dean got a decent peek at his chest hair. He wanted to see more. Dean trailed his eyes back up to Marco's. "I'm looking at it."

Marco grinned. "Wanna drive back to my place for a bit?"

Oh fuck, was this really happening? He didn't picture his next time being with a stranger. With a guy, yes, but a guy with blue eyes and a trench coat.

"Yeah," Dean heard himself answer before he realized he had spoken. It was all happening so fast, and he could tell his grip on time wasn't exactly right. Maybe he was a bit drunk. But, did it matter? He was having fun and felt better than he had in a long time.

"I'll pay for your drink and we can go." Marco winked before grabbing the bar tender's attention and paying.

They were soon walking out the door. Dean didn't remember standing up, but they were suddenly halfway across the room. Dean also felt himself starting to stumble and grabbed onto Marco's arm without a second thought. Marco put his hand over Dean's as they stepped outside.

The cold air managed to make everything just a bit more clear. Dean's surroundings sharpened a little. Everything outside his direct line of sight wasn't just a haze now. It was just slightly out of focus instead. They stopped at an old truck. Dean tried to place the make and model, but the information was barely out of reach. It was fuzzy, and retrieving anything other than immediate thoughts felt like sifting through mud. But who cared anyway? He was about to get laid by some hot guy.

"Nice truck," Dean complemented. He did like it even if it was a bit plain.

"Oh, yeah?" Marco replied.

And before Dean really knew what was happening, his back was against the truck, Marco's hands on his hips. Hot breath hit his face before Marco's mouth was on his. Dean closed his eyes and let himself get carried away. The kiss was all tongue and desire. Dean grabbed Marco's hair, and he imagined he was kissing someone else. Someone with dark hair instead of blond.

Dean's head was spinning as someone's tongue was shoved down his throat and hands were underneath his shirt, touching every inch of his torso. He already had too much to drink, and now he was kissing some stranger outside. Or was it a stranger? He had envisioned kissing Cas, but that couldn't be right. Shit, shit, shit. Those last two shots were catching up. But now there was a leg between his thighs rubbing on him in all the right ways that took priority over everything else he was feeling.

"Dean."

It was Cas. And it was close. But it did not come from whoever he was kissing. He felt cold as he and—Dean glanced at who he was making out with, but the name escaped him—some guy broke away from each other. Dean looked in the direction of Cas' voice. The angel stood uncomfortably a few feet away. He glanced between Dean and whoever the other guy was. Dean was suddenly warmer as his embarrassment finally set in. He wished Cas hadn't caught him like this. With someone else when the only person Dean had been thinking about lately was Cas.

"I need your help," Cas said gruffly.

"Right now?" Dean asked, suddenly very aware that this guy's leg was still in between his, and his hands were under Dean's shirt.

"Yes, Dean," Cas answered, the annoyance in his voice was strong. "I wouldn't bother you otherwise."

Dean cleared his throat. Obviously. "Right." He glanced at the guy. "Sorry," he said sheepishly and pushed him away.

They disentangled themselves, and Dean made his way to Cas, trying to avoid eye contact from everyone. It wasn't too hard to stay embarrassed when Dean had to concentrate on walking in a straight line.

"What's up?" Dean asked Cas once he managed to find his footing. He ignored the sound of the truck's door closing, and its ignition. He was still disappointed even if it had been completely spontaneous.

"It's Sam."

Shit. Was Sam hurt somehow while Dean was out getting drunk? That was completely his fault. Dammit. "What's wrong? Is he ok?"

"Yes, he's fine," Cas said. "He just wanted me to tell you he left the motel."

Dean crossed his arms. Was that it? Seriously?

Cas went on, "He said you weren't answering your phone and asked me to see if you were ok. I called him when I found you."

"So, you're Sam's mediator now?"

"We were worried, Dean. You weren't answering Sam's calls." Cas' eyes bore into Dean's. There was a lot more anger in them than there should've been. Did something else happen? Did Dean do something? "I'm glad to see you're fine." Cas turned and took a couple steps away.

"Wait!" It was louder than Dean meant. He just had to get Cas' attention before it was too late, and time was moving fast while he was like this, so he wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed since Cas spoke.

Dean wanted to tell Cas that he and Sam had had a fight. And that was the reason why Dean had been so irresponsible. So stupid. So inconsiderate. But they were all excuses in the end, and trying to make thoughts into words seemed impossible at the moment.

Cas turned back. "Yes, Dean?" Cas tilted his head. Fuck. That was cute. "Cute?"

"Huh?"

"You said, 'that was cute'."

Oh my god, Dean had said that out loud. "Uh, yeah, I don't know." Dean laughed nervously.

He couldn't let Cas know he had...feelings...or whatever for him. That was something he buried deep down, but it was all threatening to come out. Shit. What was happening? Everything was still spinning, and things kept happening that took Dean too long to register.

"Are you okay?" Cas asked. The anger was gone, now replaced with concern.

"I'm fine," Dean quickly answered.

Cas' eyes narrowed in suspicion. That was also cute. Everything Cas did was kinda cute anyway, if Dean was being honest with himself.

"Walk over to me," Cas commanded.

Weird request, but ok. Dean frowned but walked in Cas' direction anyway. But walking was hard. Placing one foot in a steady position shouldn't be this much work. It felt more like tumbling from one step to the next, but Dean eventually made it to Cas. But he had struggled. A lot. Maybe Cas didn't notice.

"I noticed, Dean," Cas said.

Oh. He heard that, too. How much was Dean saying aloud? "I'm a little drunk," Dean admitted. Maybe this would absolve his behavior tonight, and they can go on like it never happened.

"You're more than a little drunk," Cas replied harshly.

"Are you mad?" The question was out of Dean's mouth before it was fully formed in his head.

Cas sighed heavily, but didn't look at Dean. "No, Dean, I'm not mad."

"Yeah! You are!" Oh, Dean totally had this. One of Cas' tells was avoiding eye contact. "You don't look at me when you're upset."

Cas looked at Dean wearily. "Let's go."

Cas started walking away. Quickly. Cas was somehow already by the sidewalk. Dean tried to catch up, but one moment he was following Cas, and the next he was on the ground. He didn't even remember falling. All he knew was he was now laying on the street looking up at the night sky.

"Dean!" Cas rushed to his side. Dean reached his arms up for Cas to help him up. Cas grabbed him.

"Sorry," Dean said and laughed. That probably looked funny.

"Are you hurt?" Cas frowned in worry.

Dean didn't feel anything, but he couldn't really tell. All he could focus on was Cas holding his arms. Cas was strong. "Oh, baby, don't worry. I feel great!" Dean said and grinned in reassurance. Wait... did he call Cas "baby"?

"Let's get back to the motel."

And then they were suddenly there. Dean laughed again and said, "I forgot you can fly."

Cas really was incredible. He was such a beautiful, strong angel. But also so cute at the same time. Dean saw his bed and tried to step towards it, but almost fell again. Cas' arm was around his waist. It felt really nice. Dean put both his arms around Cas. He was warm and smelled like rain. He was like a strong fortress. He was home. Dean wanted to stay like this forever.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked but didn't take his arm off Dean.

"Hugging you."

"You need to sleep."

"No!" Dean didn't want the hug to end, so he held on tighter. "You're warm." It was true. Cas was like the perfect bed. Soft and warm.

"I can hug you while you try to sleep."

Wait, really? "For real?" Dean made the mistake of looking at Cas while he still hugged him. They were close. Super, super close. Dean loved those blue eyes. "You're pretty." He didn't mean to say it. He thought it, then his mouth moved, and then he realized what happened.

Cas just moved him to one of the beds without saying anything. Dean tumbled onto it and stared at the ceiling. It looked like every other motel ceiling. He was sick of motels. Something tugged on his foot. He couldn't be bothered to look what it was. Cas was there after all, so everything was fine.

"Something is pulling me," Dean said.

"I'm taking your shoes off," Cas explained.

It was a simple gesture, but one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for Dean. Or one of the best that Dean could think of right now. Who else would do this? Cas always went out of his way for Dean.

"I love you," Dean said.

Cas finally pulled Dean's shoe off then started tugging on the other one.

"I love you, too." It was soft and so...genuine. Was this actually happening? And did Cas mean it? Or was he saying it to please the drunk?

But it didn't matter. Dean was in a good mood. He'd believe it for now. Everything else was tomorrow's problem—if he could even remember any of this. If any of this was real. His second shoe was taken off, and Dean held his arms up again for Cas. He felt the bed next to him dip before Cas put an arm around Dean. Dean held onto it like a lifeline.

"Goodnight, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

[transsexualhamlet]

sherlock holmes reactions part 4 (?) ive lost count already but unsurprisingly ive grown even more attached to him

using this as the cover image because i made him a playlist. cause im awful

no legit this is gonna need a read more because it's SO LONG SHIHEWIESHEFSHIEWHF

Had three mental breakdowns this week and realized i do in fact kin sherlock motherfucking holmes. this does not bode well for anything in my life mentally I've diagnosed him with so many things

Oh boy lol you want the list I think hes autistic (undisputed honestly) plus also adhd but on top of that there's the manic depression and uhhh the bpd lmao I dont even think that's it those are just. the obvious ones

But yeah man's a fucking mess and a shit person but in the same way as me so 👍

Some highlights I thought were very funny:

watson: we are in fact going to be waltzing into a place where people are Shooting People you do not have your gun. this is a problem

sherlock: don't worry watson I have my trusty stick!

watson: visible pain

This clearly happens like every day or so with them

but yeah there were some really honestly sweet scenes with them at the apartment and why am i getting soft over the crusty man being gay

have you considered tho. have you considered them

have you considered sherlock, who usually only plays absolute garbage on his violin serenading watson to sleep when he was tired and in pain and watson being so fucking in love with the man and waxing poetic about falling asleep to his music and waking up to see him fallen asleep on the couch next to him and oh my god them

They're just really sweet together for such a completely dysfunctional couple so much of the time lol I just. Sherlock being like.

Sherlock half of the time: watson you're fucking stupid. no i won't take care of my personal needs stfu. watson get a goddamn life. watson shut up. watson no one cares about your goddamn opinion. no i need to disturb you in the middle of the night it's for science. hey watson mind if i manipulate mansplain malewife

Sherlock the other half of the time: HELLO SIR YOU ARE MY FAVORITE MAN TO EVER MAN HELLO MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOU HELLO I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU WE ARE PERFECT MATCHES I LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME PLEASE MARRY ME

They're... they certainly are.

ALSO OH MY GOD.

THIS ONE TIME WHEN SHERLOCK WAS JUST PACING AROUND THE ROOM AT 3 AM GOING "IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE >:(((" AND HUDSON LIKE BARGED IN TO COMPLAIN AND THEN WATSON WAS LIKE DUDE YOU GOTTA STOP DOING THIS AND PROCEEDS TO SAY THE LINE "YOU ARE KNOCKING YOURSELF UP, OLD MAN"

BAHGHSFHGRHEWHEWHIFEW

BRB SOBBING

CALLING HIM AN OLD MAN???? KNOCKING HIMSELF UP?? I DONT KNOW WHATS FUNNIER

The main highlight of this part was I have now gotten to see him have a great time watching his homo homie get married

Its so fucking funny.......

I was prepared for a funny reaction by yuumori sherlock's face when he said it lol but. Damn i was really not prepared tbh

watson: I'm engaged!

sherlock: *pained groaning*

watson: do you... not like her?

sherlock: no she's fine she's great you'll be wonderful together bUT I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE HETEROSEXUAL WATSON DO I HAVE TO MARRY MYSELF THEN WATSON? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME MARRY MYSELF.

watson: yeah... yeah... fair, I feel really bad because you did this whole case and I got a girlfriend out of it and all you got was me leaving you alone fuck man im sorry what are you gonna do without me

sherlock, highly sarcastic: dont worry watson I've always got my handy cocaine! *pulls it out and gets high in front of watson just as he's about to leave*

watson: *in fucking agony*

sherlock: good for you!

I DONT EVEN- THIS SCENE KILLED ME MULTIPLE TIMES OVER WHAT

ITS SO GODDAMN NONCHELANT ABOUT IT SHERLOCK IS JUST LIKE YEAH I WILL IN FACT NOT BE MENTALLY HEALTHY IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME 24/7 BUT WHATEVER YOU DO YOU /S

I'd like to apologize to watson on sherlock's behalf lmao. man is being a bit too codependent on main

The last thing about sign of four I do need to address is yeah, there's the Horrific Amounts Of Racism in that one and the whiplash hearing it is just ridiculous because they seem to be so knowledgeable in all other areas and fairly... politically correct, taking sherlock's original misogyny as a purposeful character flaw, but then they just mention someone indigenous once and suddenly its all parrotting racist propaganda and just... really awful shit. There's no way I'm gonna speak for the group that just got absolutely hate crimed here but anyone can tell the author just has no clue what he's fucking talking about and it's physically painful.

And I don't know, it's just so bad it seems out of character? Doyle's making these motherfuckers say shit that honestly, Sherlock would know better about. And especially Watson. Come on, you cannot tell me watson is mentally capable of being prejudiced against someone. Please do not make him that way.

I'm not sure how to handle it specifically, or what's the proper way I should handle something like that in a media I otherwise like. Is it ok to say Doyle was clearly a piece of shit on the matter and separate those characters from his bias or is that insensitive?

I don't know, I was Not a fan of it and I'm glad to see they've at least finally shut up about the guy

But anyway yeah, uhhhh onto the short stories because I'm trying to read those before I get to the final problem

Scandal in Bohemia was a fucking ride, first of all, before we even get to Sherlock's girlboss arc we have to discuss how gay the whole situation was and how Doyle's attempt at making them less gay failed spectacularly

Like he's all "ah yes I need to marry off watson and uhhh make sherlock ummmm interact with a woman so they dont look gay" but he does it SO BADLY that it makes them look EVEN GAYER

cause i mean, even the conversation they had about watson getting married back in sign of four was gay af, but how Doyle handled things afterward was in no way straighter.

Cause you know, the man kind of wrote himself into a corner with the fact of Watson narrating these stories. So Watson has to be around to witness them, and to witness Sherlock's own thought process rather privately, so he has to be around sherlock at night, a lot. But trying to come up with a reason for that happening just... it didn't occur to Doyle. He just went. Ah yes this makes sense. And it's Watson just like Sleeping Over At Sherlock's like every other goddamn day and every time his wife leaves town and having them basically still live that cute domestic home life but they have absolutely no excuses for doing it anymore. It's quite funny

Like it was gay already the way they interacted when they officially lived together but it was like, a necessity for them. Now it's not, Watson just comes over because he goddamn wants to, and it's hilarious to me.

LIKE IDK I THINK THEY KIND OF BROKE UP FOR A YEAR OR SO BC OF WATSON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY LIKE DONT HAVE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE DAY WATSON JUST INEXPLICABLY HAS THE URGE TO COME VISIT SHERLOCK ON NO NOTICE AND THEN SUDDENLY THEY ARE TOGETHER NEAR 24/7 AGAIN LIKE BARELY ANYTHING CHANGED AHIEHOEWH

SIT DOWN AND TRY TO TELL ME THOSE ARE NOT HOMOSEXUALS

Watson walks in on no fucking notice after a full year and Sherlock is just. In the middle of some experiment obviously but hes like

Sherlock, carrying around unidenfiable chemical mixtures: W A T S O N you look good you look good! i see you've gained seven pounds!!

watson: uh. thanks??? Hey lol *awkwardly waves* Uh um Wanted to Uhm sEe you

Sherlock: ABOUT gODDAMN TIME AND YES WONDERFUL LOOK LOOK SIT DOWN I HAVE THINGS TO INFODUMP ABOUT

watson: :) ok :) *turns to camera* and we were back to the old days

sherlock: makes a deduction

watson: wowwwwwwwwwwww !! so true bestie !!

sherlock: !!!!!!!!! :))) !!!!! :))) uh fuck im supposed to be smooth Its Elementary Lol

watson: *turns to camera* when i stroke his ego like this and compliment him he blushes like a girl like i just complimented his dress so i do it more because he likes it. this is a homie trait

watson: well i should probably get going! my wife will notice that i am gone my dear buddy bro homie!

sherlock: NO DONT LEAVE IM LOST WITHOUT YOU (pretty much a direct quote lol) your. wife doesn't. get back home until monday. I know this because I am smart and definitely have not been stalking you.

watson: alright :)))))

AND THEN HE FUCKING SLEEPS OVER LMAO FUCKING HOMOS

So yeah they're right back where they were before pretty much and there's a case bc of course there is

And honestly I think this short story specifically was so insane mostly just because of how absolutely fast it all went. Yuumori kind of made me believe the original Irene Adler was more of an important character than she really is? And I think that's. Honestly so funny. Motherfucker shows up for ten pages, girlbosses her way around town, and changes sherlock's entire opinion of the female gender while still keeping him gay?

LIKE NO LOL SHES NOT IN ANY WAY A LOVE INTEREST AND WATSON GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO SPECIFY THE FACT THAT IN NO WORLD WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED BECAUSE. SHERLOCK. DIDN'T DATE WOMEN.

HE WAS JUST??? SO IMPRESSED AND SHELL SHOCKED BY HER EXISTENCE HE DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR GIRLBOSS APPRECIATION DAY TODAY AND ALL DAYS HENCEFORTH???

AND THEY HAVE LIKE O N E INTERACTION?? God, the power this woman(?) has. Watson looks at her once like. damb shawty 😳 and she's like "no<3" and he's like FUCK

Like yeah it's pretty much just the king walking up like "help girl the whore is blackmailing me" and sherlock being like "ok lol this will be easy" and then it proceeded to not in fact be easy or even possible

sherlock like... posed as a dead body and tried to get her to give up the location of the photo but she out-acted him and skipped the town the next day after doing the 'good night mr. sherlock holmes' thing with sherlock completely tricked

and she just. sends a letter like "dear sherlock holmes. you're a fucking idiot and i think it's funny that you lost. nice job tho mad respect" and sherlock just SHORT CIRCUITS

the king comes back a bit later like "hey Dude where's my Photo" and sherlock's like oh yeah uhhhhhhhhhhh about that and the king is like HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THAT GODDAMN HARD i would have dated someone more noble if she wasn't so pretty i swear im on a whole different level from her

and then. GIRLBOSSIFIED SHERLOCK HOLMES RESPONDS "from what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level from your majesty" ABSEHHESHEFHHFES ROASTED

and the dude just LEAVES

After that I read a few more of the short stories and well the highlights I got from that pretty much were these conversations

Watson: sherlock. honey. have you. eaten anything today

Sherlock: IT DIDNT OCCUR TO ME DEAR WATSON

Watson: ITS FIVE PM

and:

Sherlock: *having one of his Moment Moments at three in the goddamn mornig* GRRRR CRIME ISNT WHAT IT USED TO BE

Watson: MY DEAR SHERCOCK WHAT IS CRIME S U P P O S E D TO BE LIKE ACCORDING TO YOU

Sherlock: no one's original anymore fucking copycats

Watson: so you want the criminals to make things harder for you specifically.

Sherlock, exasperated: yes!

I love them your honor.