#at the start of our relationship Mr Somebody was the one calling to book a table at the restaurant

[personne-writes]

I don't even WATCH Mob Psycho but this is literally me flexing my social skills in front of my hubby

Mr Somebody is getting sweaty every time he has to order pizza on the phone and I offer to do it like I'm some kind of savior ✨️

he has the ultimate power

✨ print ✨

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Night Moves Timestamp: Moving Day

Request: Hmmmm what about Night Moves? Or how soon before she asked Dean to move in with her?

Night Moves Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 600ish

Warnings: language

__________

“What are you doing?” asked Benny with a laugh, leaning against the back of his truck as you grunted. “I thought we told you to let us boys handle the heavy stuff.”

“I can help,” you said, reaching forward for the box again until Benny threw an arm around your waist and picked you up. “Benjamin!”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” teased Jess, laughing as Benny carried you through the front door and out through the sliding door to the deck. “Not sure which one of you though.”

“Him!” you said with a growl.

“Deano will kill me if his girl gets hurt trying to lift that heavy old box,” said Benny.

“Oh my...why doesn’t Dean have scrawny friends!” you said, squirming a little as Benny carried you into the backyard, plopping you down at the shed where Dean was putting a few things away.

“Delivery service for Mr. Winchester,” said Benny, Dean poking his head out with a smile. “Watch this one.”

“I thought you were taking a break,” said Dean, crossing his arms.

“We’re almost done,” you said, swinging your arms around, spinning back around. You started to walk back around the house, Dean humming behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean wearing a smirk. You made a dash for it and got to the front yard before he was picking you up, laughing as he spun you around a few times. He carried you around around the cars to see Benny and Sam carrying the box you tried to get.

“Oh, you tried to get that one? That’s got like a crap ton of books in it, sweetheart,” he said. “Put it in the office guys!”

“We better be getting pizza and beer after this one!” called back Sam.

“You moved like four boxes,” said Dean with scoff. 

“We moved your entire apartment!” said Sam.

“Pfft,” said Dean, waving him off. Jess poked her head outside, laughing at you again.

“Oh, now I definitely know you were the trouble maker,” she said. Dean set you down, giving you a smirk as you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside in your house. “So...how long before I get to be maid of honor?”

“We moved in together. We’re not engaged...yet,” you said.

“Uh huh,” she said. “I give him two more weeks.”

“He moved in because his lease is up and Benny’s place is too small,” you said, cocking your head at her.

“No, he moved in because he’s in love with you. A months tops before he proposes,” she said.

“Would you go figure out how much pizza and stuff I need to order, please?” you asked. She hummed as you headed outside again, Dean sitting on the trunk of Baby, staring out at the street. “Dean? You alright?”

“Is this too fast?” he asked, patting the space beside him for you. You climbed up, Dean taking your hand in his. “We’ve only been dating a few months and the guys today have made so many jokes and I know they’re just jokes but-”

“Do you love me?” you asked. Dean nodded. “Well I love you too. I don’t see anything wrong with two people that love each other wanting to live together.”

“But even the I love you’s came so fast and that’s not normal and-”

“And we met on a hookup with some backseat sex. Our relationship has never been normal and I don’t think we should judge ourselves based on what other people think,” you said. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“I am looking forward to living with you,” he said, squeezing your hand. 

“Me too,” you said.

________

[fiendfriend]

Thoughts on Kafka’s Metamorphosis (ballet) but if you're looking for something eloquent and well thought out, y'ain't gonna find it in here!

I finally decided to track down the royal ballet’s production of the metamorphosis after spending some time with a friend, mutually hating on that one atrocious Goodreads review of the novel itself. You know the one. Being generally ill and having had it impact my ability to work/”be productive” as well as my relationship with my family and to a certain extent my friends, I care quite a bit about the original text. I bought a copy from Border's in the 8th grade, read the majority of it sitting cross-legged on the floor of the aisle, and begged my dad to “loan me” the $12 to get it. No one really talked to me about this book and probed deeper into my investment in it until I was in a high school remedial English class. (It was jokingly called the burnout convention by students. Our teacher did not enjoy this in the slightest.) I think that was the first time I had a conversation like that with anyone beyond surface-level close reading that they teach you how to do throughout most middle to high school English classes. The kind that people get mad at on the internet. “Sometimes the curtains are just blue!” You know. I liked those activities and thought they were really fun, and wanted to learn how to do them at a more complex (?) level for all of the things I liked. Which, if I talk to you a lot, is probably pretty obvious. 

Anyway. The ballet. I wasn't sure what to expect. I’d only seen still images and avoided the trailers and official clips because I wanted to be surprised, but I knew it was going to be visceral, mostly because I don't think it’s possible for the metamorphosis not to be? But I don't really know how to interact with ballet aside from just sitting back and allowing it to happen. No idea where to start with breaking down any of the resulting interpretations or feelings afterward. 

The set is split equally into two rooms – Gregor’s bedroom, and the main room of the Samsa apartment. Everything is bright white and gradually becomes dirtied by a dark oil or grease that gradually gets spread around by Gregor himself while he writhes and contorts around alone in his room. 

I think what most surprised me, out of everything, was the I guess obfuscation of dialogue. Dialogue isn't exactly a thing in most (all?) ballet, so as far as I know with a half-assed Google search, this is an unconventional decision. My knowledge is limited. I’ve seen The Nutcracker like once, and half of Swan Lake. 

Grete, Mr. and Mrs. Samsa, the housecleaner, and the bearded men all speak at one point or another, but it’s completely unintelligible thanks to the backing score. Could be gibberish and I wouldn't know a thing! I enjoy this aspect quite a bit. Gregor Samsa is the protagonist here, and when your family is reacting to your existence with anger, disgust, and fear, I don't think the exact words matter at all. When your father is screaming and throwing apples at you, or the housecleaner is loudly and angrily shouting at you over a mess you cannot in any possible way clean yourself, the message is pretty clear. I keep thinking about it. I’ve been there, where I know for a fact somebody is angry at me in the other room, and they’re shouting or slamming things around, but I can't make out what they’re saying. It’s terrifying. It makes you feel like shit. The muffling of clear dialogue perfectly captures the fear and shame that come with anger and resentment. Grete at first continues to be warm toward Gregor, but she too comes to resent him when he becomes inconvenient. She goes from lying by his closed door and playing music to screaming at him within the span of twenty or so minutes. It’s easier for her to love him when he remains unseen in his room. Her quick turnaround seems to coincide with the three dark figures who appear in Gregor’s room at night. This is an aspect unique to the ballet. After some thought, I think these figures can be representative of the last affectionate tie Gregor had with other humans being in the process of severing. I’m taking the three dark figures to be Gregor’s “chaos”, opposite of the “order” represented by the three bearded men. They mark Gregor as being one of them with additional grease, as excreted by Gregor’s insect body. The room becomes gradually filthier as Gregor is neglected and negativity toward him builds up within the family.

Obviously, the section in which the bearded men appear is condensed quite a bit compared to the novel. The “order” of the bearded men and the main room of the Samsa apartment and the “chaos” of Gregor’s bedroom and Gregor himself meet within the span of one song, more or less, while the family dances with the bearded men. Gregor quickly escapes his room and spreads the dark oil/grease coating his body to the bright white of the kitchen, setting off the outburst from his father. In the novella, the apple becomes lodged in his back. He is still their family. There is no reason why he should not be included, save for the revulsion and resentment of others. He can’t be included, because the only way for his family to enjoy the order of the bearded men is through Gregor’s absence. 

I’m not familiar with dance as an art form at all. I fully trust that these professionally trained dancers are aware of the limitations of their bodies. Still, watching Edward Watson contort and writhe is painful at times. His body becomes foreign and upsetting and alien, easily invoking the mental image of a bug stuck on its back by splaying his fingers and toes and twisting his limbs, and it’s perfect. I found myself wincing in sympathy at any particular awkward movement that I know I’d hurt myself attempting. Fittingly, while he hurts to look at, and is covered in the dark grease of his perceived lack of humanity, his eyes are always perfectly visible and perfectly human. I’m so grateful that this was filmed the way it was. I really don’t think I would have come away with the same level of… whatever I feel about it if I hadn’t been able to see his eyes. 

There’s much more that’s stuck with me that I can’t exactly detangle this soon after watching, or only after watching it once. I may sit down and spend some more time with it in a little while, maybe a few days. There’s a lot I haven't touched on at all, like the score being filled with things like alarm clocks and train whistles and the way it seamlessly flows from beautiful to minimalistic to terrifying. Until I sort all that out, here are some photos of the production. First row of three by Alastair Muir, second row of three by Tristram Kenton.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,195

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

Warnings:  brief mention of attempted suicide

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 3

"Time!" Mr. Harris looked up from his watch. "If you catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal."

I looked down at my beaker and saw a horrible concoction of half crystal and half goo. Thanks to Stiles, my last partner of this weird-ass rotation the chemistry teacher had us partake in. Yet even though I didn't get with Stiles that well I was relieved that he was my partner. Isaac had been completely insufferable these last few days and I couldn't handle that.

"Now this part of the experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy. You can eat it." I was bummed that I couldn't eat mine and I guess Lydia noticed.

"Hey, (Y/N), we can share mine. Don't frown." I smiled at her and she returned it.

After Lydia gave me half her rock crystal, Scott just stood up and screamed our names to stop, and everyone else just stared at us. We both turned and gave the boy a weird stare before diverging our attention back to the candy. After clinking our candies against the other, we savored the sweet treat.

Allison's POV

"Derek is outside waiting for (Y/N) and Lydia," Scott said.

"Waiting to kill them?"

"If he thinks one of them is the Kanima, then yes. Especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not Lydia."

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened."

"No, it can't be her."

"Well, it's not (Y/N) either."

"Well, it could be her."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" What the hell was his problem?

"Well, we have no idea who she is, and she hasn't really proven to be a good person. And the attacks did start after she first arrived at Beacon Hills."

"You don't know her, I do. Believe me, it's not her. I've known her my whole life. I think I would have noticed her turning into a killing lizard and I don't think I would be here to tell you. So, we can cross her out." We both sighed. "But it doesn't matter because Derek thinks it's one of them. So, either we can convince him that he's wrong or we've got to figure out a way to protect them."

"Well, I don't think he's gonna do anything here. Not at school." Scott stepped in.

"What about after school?" I asked and he sighed. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?"

"There can be something in the bestiary."

"Oh, you mean the 900-page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that." Seriously Stiles, not helping. At least I was trying.

"Actually, I think there might be someone who can translate," I said thinking about our guidance counselor.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it's not either of them or... But if anything happens you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean?"

"You can't heal like I do." I stared at him. I wasn't a defenseless baby. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I can protect myself." I took the crossbow out of my bag. He said nothing. "What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong you call me, okay?! I don't care if your dad finds out. Call or text, scream or yell; whatever, I'll find you as fast as I can." He stared straight into my eyes.

"We have until three."

He turned to leave until my crossbow went off. "Ooh." Scott quickly turned around and caught the arrow.

"Aah. Sorry." Stiles handed me the crossbow. "Sorry. Sensed a trigger on that."

Scott's POV

Currently, Stiles was on Lydia's and (Y/N)'s trail, and I was on the field with Boyd trying to find Derek.

"I wanna talk to Derek."

"Talk to me."

"I don't wanna fight."

"Good. Cause I'm twice the size of you" I looked up to find it true.

"True. Really, really true." He smirked. "But you wanna know what I think? I'm twice as fast." I smirked back and tackled him to the ground. Once we stood up, Derek appeared by our side.

"She failed the test." His face held his iconic scowl, and his arms were crossed.

"Yeah, but that doesn't prove anything. Lydia's different."

"I know. At night she turns into a homicidal walking snake."

"I'm not gonna let you kill her."

"Who said I was gonna do it?" I looked back to the school and realized Erica and Isaac were still back in the building. I tried to run towards it, but Boyd threw me down. "I don't know why you think you have to protect everyone now, Scott. But even so, Lydia has killed people and she's gonna do it again. And next time it's gonna be one of us."

"What if you're wrong? For all we know it could also be (Y/N). She didn't pass either, and how is it a coincidence that the attacks started after she arrived?" For a second I could have sworn there was a sign of desperation and worry in his face. But as quick as I blinked the look was gone.

"Lydia was bitten by an alpha. It's her."

"You saw that thing up close. You know it's not like us."

"But it is! We're all shapeshifters. You don't know what you're dealing with. It happens rarely and it happens for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are." He gave me his hand and helped me up. "Even Stiles calls her cold-blooded."

"Well, what if she's immune? What if she has something else inside of her that makes her immune to the bite which is why she didn't get paralyzed."

"No one's immune. We've never seen it or heard of it. It's n... It's never happened." He argued.

"What about Jackson?" He looked away. "That's why you tested him, isn't it? Because you gave him what he wanted, didn't you?"

"Scott..."

"You said the bite either kills you or turns you. You were probably hoping that he would die. But nothing happened, right? You have no idea why do you?"

"No." Derek's jaw clenched and I knew I struck a never, so I pressured on buying more time.

"I have a theory. That she's immune and that somehow, she passed it on to Jackson. You know I'm right."

"No!

"You can NOT do this!"

"Look, I can't let her live! You should've known that."

"I was hoping I could convince you but then, I wasn't counting on it." He looked at me frazzled as to what I meant, I just smirked.

(Y/N)'s POV

Being stuck with Stiles and Lydia in the library is torture, an experiment I did not want to know the result of. Actually, just Stiles. Ever since Chemistry he had been on our trail like a lost puppy. Lydia and I had a project to work with, and he was just in the way. He was acting so weird and fidgety, more than usual.

"Hey, Allison. What are you doing here?" Lydia said looking behind her.

"Oh nothing, just wondering if you wanted to get together for a study group."

"Sure, that would actually maybe let the tension leave this group," I said and as we were leaving, Jackson joined.

"Study group? I'm coming with."

"Great." We left through the back door of the library, lord knows why, and we were walking at top speed.

"If we're doing a study group why don't we just stay in the library?" Lydia said. I was asking myself the same thing but since everyone else had stood up, I just followed.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else."

"Why don't they just meet us at the library?" I asked.

"Oh, that would have been a great idea! Too late."

"Okay, hold on..." Lydia started saying but Jackson stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." Jerk.

We all got inside of Stile's jeep since he thought it would be faster that way because we were already late. It was an awkward ride to what I learned was Scott's house. No one said much except for the casual groan or scoff coming from Lydia.

"If we're meeting at Scott's house, where's Scott?" Lydia asked.

"Meeting us here. I think. I hope." Stiles said as he led us up to the front steps and into Scott's house.

Once inside he closed every single lock there was on the door. My reaction was involuntary as I stared at the slim boy in front of me as if he was another worldly creature.

"Uh, there's been a few break-ins in the neighborhood." He then put a chair on the doorknob and now Lydia joined in the stare. "And a murder. Yeah, it was bad."

"Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute." Jackson spoke up.

"Seriously, what is going on with everyone?" Lydia said exasperated.

"Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. What the hell is going on?" I asked once Jackon and Lydia were out of sight.

"Nothing. Like we said it's just a study group." Stiles answered and I crossed my arms against my chest. Groveling for an answer seemed completely futile in this situation.

Allison's POV

"You know what, (Y/N). Why don't you go into the kitchen and help yourself to anything or go upstairs and lay down? I think Scott will take a while."

"O-kay?" She headed upstairs with an audible sigh and I motioned to Stiles to give me his phone to dial Scott.

"Hey, it's me. You need to get here. Quick." I looked outside and saw Derek and his pack waiting. I looked at the phone after Scott hung up and started dialing my dad's number.

"What are you doing?"

"I think... I think I have to call my dad."

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott..."

"I know." I stared at him. "What are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay, they're here to kill Lydia... Or, or even (Y/N)." We stood in silence and I debated on whether if it would be a good idea to call my father. If I did my relationship with Scott would be completely and truly over and if I didn't there could be a chance I would be down a friend or even a cousin.

"I've got an idea." I looked at a nervous Stiles. "Shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves. So, let's do it, at least give it a shot, right?" I debated for a moment.

"Okay." I don't think I sounded too confident.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them." His reasoning made sense. I looked outside.

"Which one?"

"Um, Derek, preferably in the head."

"Stiles, if Scott can catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, ah, just shoot one of the other three."

"You mean two?"

"I mean three." Quickly he moved the curtains aside and looked outside to check on the pack. "Where's Isaac?" Without being able to think I was attacked and thrown to the ground and so was Stiles. I don't know how but Isaac found a way in.

(Y/N)'s POV

I was laying down on the bed of what I hoped was a guest room, scrolling through my phone when I heard a crash downstairs. I guess Lydia heard it too because when I looked outside the hallway, there she was. We moved slowly and carefully. After, I started to hear snarling and crashing.

"What's happening?" Lydia cried and I half hugged her as reassurance.

"Get back. Someone's trying to break in, okay? Go." Allison appeared from around the corner.

"I can help," I said.

"Stay." We didn't move. "Guys, go!" We both ran back to the room she was with Jackson and closed the door. Yet, Jackson was nowhere in sight.

"Jackson?!" Lydia screamed and we made our way to the bathroom locking the door.

"Who are you calling?" I asked Lydia as she took out her phone.

"Hi, I-I need the police. Th-there's someone trying to break in." She turned off the light and I heard the door outside slam.

"Stiles! It's here!" Allison screamed. What the hell was IT? Then the door crashed down. Lydia started squirming so I engulfed her in a hug and tried my best to calm her nerves.

"We're gonna be alright." But honestly, I was just as scared. Once silence was the only thing surrounding us, I checked the room. "Okay, I think it's gone. We'll go out slowly."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom and later out of the room. We made our way calmly down the hallway and the stairs. That's when I heard the worst screech ever and it was not human. We both ran outside to see what had made such an awful sound and were met by Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, and Allison. What the hell were they all doing here, and why were Erica and Isaac limp on the floor?

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's Jackson," Scott said. What could that possibly mean?

After everyone had calmed down, Stiles took us back to the school to look for our abandoned cars. As I made my way to my bike, Allison stopped me. Claiming that she was too worried about my safety. Not having the energy to fight, I obliged and got into her car alongside Lydia, who was still a bit shaken from the events.

"I need you to promise that you both won't say anything about what just happened." Allison staged the statement as a request but it was clearly a command.

"I promise not to say anything about what just happened if you could tell me what the HELL just happened," Lydia said, exasperated.

"I'm with Lydia on that one."

"It's kinda complicated." Allison sighed.

"How about you start with why Derek was there?" I spoke. "And Isaac and all of those kids from school?"

"Or where Jackson went or what is wrong with Erica?" She looked down. "Need to come up with a possible lie?"

"Part of the reason I am asking is because Scott and I aren't supposed to be seeing each other, okay?" Seriously? That's your excuse "So it's better if you just keep what you know to yourselves."

"Fine. I'll keep what I know about you and your boyfriend, which is nothing, to myself." Lydia started to get out, but Allison held her back.

"Hey, he's not just my boyfriend, you get that right?"

"Let me go." The strawberry blonde spat.

"Just for one second, please try and remember. "

"Remember what?!" Lydia turned.

"Remember what it feels like. All those times in school when you see him standing in the hall and you cannot breathe until you're with him or those times in class when you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he is standing right out there, waiting for you. Don't you remember what that's like?"

"No."

"What do you mean no? You've had boyfriends."

"Not like that." She closed the door and left. Allison stared at her until she had reached the door to her house before starting the car back up.

"I know you're lying. This has nothing to do with your relationship with Scott. Maybe like five percent but when you look at the whole picture it's not. So, why don't you actually tell me the truth or I swear I will get out of this car."

"We're moving."

"Doesn't mean I won't jump out."

"What do you want me to say?!"

"The truth. Just tell me why the hell everyone has been acting so weird?"

"You're one to talk." She scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You! Ever since you've arrived you have pushed everyone away, even though all they have been is nice to you. You're alienating yourself for no reason."

"No reason?! How about the fact that I don't want to grow attached to anyone because I know that once the year ends, I'm gone? It has been like that for almost ten fucking years. Allison, you have only had to move about three times in your life, maybe four. I have been moving every single year since I was eight years old. Don't you think that it doesn't hurt to leave behind people you have grown to love and won't see again, possibly forever?"

"I didn't think..." she sighed.

"Exactly, you didn't think because you don't understand. The last time I grew close to someone, I had to say goodbye and you know what happened?" She shook her head no. "She was bullied into attempting suicide. I did that."

"Are you talking about Josie?" I nodded, roughly wiping away the tears that had spilled. "That wasn't your fault. It was tragic but there was nothing you could have done. You didn't do it."

"I did. She was alone because I left, and I couldn't protect her. She won't even answer my messages. Now, I don't associate myself with people so I don't have to care about what happens to them. That way it doesn't hurt once I leave."

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't know you felt that way. But don't push me away. I will always be a constant in your life. I'm your cousin, I will always be with you." She hugged me and wiped away any other tears left. "I love you but get out."

"Dude, you just ruined the moment."

"No, I mean we're at your house and I have to get home. I love you." She smiled and I got out of the car. Before I could say anything else, she sped off. She knew there was a conversation still lingering and she was trying to avoid it. I just hoped I didn't have to explain myself to anyone else.

I entered the empty house, making sure all the doors were locked, and made my way up the stairs. Opening my bedroom door, Brody jumped off my bed and onto me, slathering my face with kisses.

"Hey, buddy. I missed you too," I laughed. Being near him instantly calmed me and helped me feel more at ease after the night I had.

I changed into my pajamas, too tired to shower, and cuddled with Brody on my bed. Talking about my past always made me tense. I tried my best to stray away from the topic and reveal as little as possible as I could, but it always found a way to be uncovered. As hard as I tried it was the dark cloud that would always follow me around. All I could do was avoid the whole thing as much as I could and hope they didn't bring it up again.

With Brody's warmth next to me, I quickly nodded off to sleep and melted the stress of the day.

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Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower

[sj-thefan]

300 Followers!!!

Thank you all so much!

Below are a few paragraphs from some stories I've been working on. If it is part of a series that has already started, I have linked the other parts.

WIP: I’m Okay, You’re Okay, We’re Okay (David Budd) – P.2

“Charlie?” she called. He glanced at her, his eyes filled with tears. “Come ‘ere.” She extended her free arm, letting him come in for a hug. “It’s going to be okay.” Charlie snuggled deeper into her neck.

“Where’s Daddy?” Ella asked.

Charlie pulled away slightly to peer at Y/n. He wanted to know the answer too.

Y/n wiped Charlie’s tears away before answering. “There was a problem on the train, and Daddy offered to help. He’ll be back soon.”

The kids were quiet for a few minutes before Ella spoke up again. “Mummy says Daddy needs help. Does that mean he has a problem?”

WIP: Ramsay’s Lady (Ramsay Bolton) – Next Part

She could hear the screams as she made her way through the corridors

“Please, cut it off! Cut it off! Cut it off!”

The yelling quieted as she pushed open the door. Ramsay was standing in front of Theon. “I win.”

“You started without me?” Y/n pouted playfully.

Ramsay turned around to see his wife. “Oh, my lady,” he smiled devilishly, “the fun has only just begun.”

“No,” Theon huffed. “Please.”

“Ah, ah!” Ramsay turned around, holding his knife up. “What did I say?”

Theon didn’t respond, only hung his head and stifled a sob.

“Round two,” Ramsay continued. “Same rules.” He turned to Y/n, holding out the knife. “My lady, pick a body part.”

WIP: Under the Moonlight (Ahkmenrah) – P.4

Inside, the world was bright with life. Bones of a dinosaur moved as the creature sniffed its old friends. Y/n’s eyes were open wide as she tried to take in everything at once. She had seen the Smithsonian and been present when some of the Pyramids were built. She had seen some of the most beautiful places the world had to offer but nothing compared to seeing the place her husband had spent so much time in without her. The tablet brought this world to life, and it was spectacular. Creatures from every age roamed freely, conversing with each other as friends. Oh, how she wished she could have helped Ahkmenrah build this glorious world.

She sighed, wondering where she should head to see Ahkmenrah. Larry had instructed her and the others to head to the basement to wait until he could explain their arrival, but she couldn’t just head downstairs to wait when she was already so close. She spotted a map of the museum ahead and searched for the Egyptian exhibit.

“Larry?”

She heard the familiar voice echo through the large hall over the other excited chattering. She glanced up, searching for the source.

“Larry?” Ahkmenrah exited one of the hallways. His eyes landed on the woman standing near the bottom of the stairs. Their eyes met, and his breath left his chest. “Y/n?”

WIP: Inheritance (A Ransom Drysdale x Reader One-shot)

“For the record,” Detective Lieutenant Elliot said, “we’re here with Y/n L/n, Harlan’s…” he paused, glancing over his notes. “We have a couple different comments on your relationship with Harlan; how would you describe it?”

Y/n sat in the library in front of the detective, Trooper Wagner, and a yet-to-be-identified man in the back. Usually, she was most comfortable in the library, but with the men in front of her scrutinizing her every word, she was tense.

“Harlan and I are—were friends. We met years ago when I was dating his grandson, Ransom. Even once we broke up, Harlan and I remained friends. When I found out I was pregnant, he offered to have me move in with him so he could ensure the safety of myself and his great-grandson.”

“So, you and Ransom have a child together.”

“You could say that, although Ransom hasn’t met Harry.”

“And is there a reason for that, or…”

Y/n smiled sadly. “Ransom and I didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. He cheated on me.” The room was silent, the men exchanging grim looks. “I wasn’t exactly eager to return to a man who broke my heart. Plus, Ransom… well, let’s just say after our breakup, he didn’t want anything to do with me again. I was alone, and the only one who cared was Harlan. He helped me keep Harry hidden. Now that Harry is getting older, though, Harlan and I were thinking about introducing him to the rest of the family. That was one of the reasons I attended this party—to get the family used to seeing me again.”

WIP: An Unnamed Robb Stark x Reader Series

Two short raps sounded on the other side of her door. Slowly, Y/n pulled the heavy door open, revealing Robb Stark, dressed in his finest clothes. She, too, had donned her finest dress for the occasion.

“Everyone’s asleep,” he whispered, a smile stretching across his face as he took in her appearance. “Jon and Theon are in the Godswood already.”

The question returned. Are you sure? She wouldn’t ask again. She had asked too many times before and wouldn’t bother him with another. Still, that nagging voice wondered if they were making a mistake: if their choice would turn out disastrous.

Robb could read her face like a book. “I love you.” He pulled her into his arms. “I always will.”

They raced towards the woods, keeping their steps as light and soundless as possible. Every now and then, they ducked into a dark corner to avoid being spotted by one of the guards on watch.

From the outside, the woods were thick and darker than the inky night sky. Robb and Y/n had spent much of their youth running through the forest and had memorized the way to the Weirwood Tree. They carried no torch, hoping to avoid being spotted by someone in the castle. Theon and Jon had gone ahead, bringing torches to light up the area around the sacred tree.

It was a truly beautiful sight as the couple entered the small clearing that surrounded the pond and the Weirwood Tree. Jon and Theon had set two torches on either side of the tree, letting the light bounce off the water and make the red leaves of the giant white tree glow as they danced in the wind.

The boys jumped up as they heard the couple enter.

“Are you sure about this, N/n?” Theon asked, taking his sister’s hand from Robb. “I’m quite certain you can do better than that halfwit.” He gestured to his best friend taking his place in front of the tree.

Y/n kept her gaze locked with Robb’s. “There is no one I would rather marry.”

WIP: An Unnamed Sirius Black x Reader One-shot

Mr. Weasley paused. “Harry, would you swear to me that whatever you might hear, you won’t go looking for Black?”

“Mr. Weasley, why would I go looking for somebody who wants to kill me?”

Mr. Weasley didn’t have a good answer, but Harry promised anyway.

As he was walking back to his seat, his eye was caught on one of the posters. This one wasn’t just of Sirius Black. Beside his photo was a woman he seemed to recognize. He read the caption under the picture.

“Y/n Black hasn’t been seen in 12 years. She is wanted for crimes against society and for questioning about her husband. Do not approach. Reward available.”

Harry gulped; his eyes focused on the woman as he realized why she was familiar. She was years younger, and her hair was longer, but he was certain. It was his Aunt Beth.

[phroyd]

One of our Great Comedians leaves us this day! Rest In Peace, Jackie! - Phroyd

Jackie Mason, whose staccato, arm-waving delivery and thick Yiddish accent kept the borscht belt style of comedy alive long after the Catskills resorts had shut their doors, and whose career reached new heights in the 1980s with a series of one-man shows on Broadway, died on Saturday in Manhattan. He was 93.His death, at Mount Sinai Hospital, was confirmed by the lawyer Raoul Felder, a longtime friend.Mr. Mason regarded the world around him as a nonstop assault on common sense and an affront to his sense of dignity. Gesturing frantically, his forefinger jabbing the air, he would invite the audience to share his sense of disbelief and inhabit his very thin skin, if only for an hour.“I used to be so self-conscious,” he once said, “that when I attended a football game, every time the players went into a huddle, I thought they were talking about me.” Recalling his early struggles as a comic, he said, “I had to sell furniture to make a living — my own.”The idea of music in elevators sent him into a tirade: “I live on the first floor; how much music can I hear by the time I get there? The guy on the 28th floor, let him pay for it.”

The humor was punchy, down-to-earth and emphatically Jewish: His last one-man show in New York, in 2008, was titled “The Ultimate Jew.” A former rabbi from a long line of rabbis, Mr. Mason made comic capital as a Jew feeling his way — sometimes nervously, sometimes pugnaciously — through a perplexing gentile world.“Every time I see a contradiction or hypocrisy in somebody’s behavior,” he once told The Wall Street Journal, “I think of the Talmud and build the joke from there.” Describing his comic style to The New York Times in 1988, he said, “My humor — it’s a man in a conversation, pointing things out to you.”“He’s not better than you, he’s just another guy,” he added. “I see life with love — I’m your brother up there — but if I see you make a fool out of yourself, I owe it to you to point that out to you.”He was born Yacov Moshe Maza in Sheboygan, Wis., on June 9, 1928, to immigrants from Belarus. (Some sources give the year as 1931.) When he was 5, his father, Eli, an Orthodox rabbi, and his mother, Bella (Gitlin) Maza, moved the family to the Lower East Side of Manhattan, where Yacov discovered that his path in life had already been determined. Not only his father, but his grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfathers had all been rabbis. His three older brothers became rabbis, and his two younger sisters married rabbis. “It was unheard-of to think of anything else,” Mr. Mason said. “But I knew, from the time I’m 12, I had to plot to get out of this, because this is not my calling.”

After earning a degree from City College, he completed his rabbinical studies at Yeshiva University and was ordained. In a state of mounting misery, he tended to congregations in Weldon, N.C., and Latrobe, Pa., unhappy in his profession but unwilling to disappoint his father.Hedging his bets, he had begun working summers in the Catskills, where he wrote comic monologues and appeared onstage at every opportunity. This, he decided, was his true calling, and after his father’s death in 1959 he felt free to pursue it in earnest, with a new name.He struggled at first, playing the Catskills and, with little success, obscure clubs in New York and Miami. Plagued by guilt, he underwent psychoanalysis, which did not solve his problems but did provide him with good comic material.Nevertheless, he found it hard to break into the nightclub circuit in New York — in part, he claimed, because his act made Jewish audiences uncomfortable. “My accent reminds them of a background they’re trying to forget,” he said.

While performing at a Los Angeles nightclub in 1960, he caught the attention of his fellow comedian Jan Murray, who recommended him to the television personality Steve Allen. Two appearances in two weeks on “The Steve Allen Show” led to bookings at the Copacabana and the Blue Angel in New York.Mr. Mason’s career was off and running. He became a regular on the top television variety shows, recorded two albums for the Verve label — “I Am the Greatest Comedian in the World Only Nobody Knows It Yet” and “I Want to Leave You With the Words of a Great Comedian” — and wrote a book, “My Son the Candidate.”

After dozens of appearances on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” Mr. Mason encountered disaster on Oct. 18, 1964. A speech by President Lyndon B. Johnson pre-empted the program, which resumed as Mr. Mason was halfway through his act. Onstage but out of camera range, Sullivan indicated with two fingers, then one, how many minutes Mr. Mason had left, distracting the audience. Mr. Mason, annoyed, responded by holding up his own fingers to the audience, saying, “Here’s a finger for you, and a finger for you, and a finger for you.”Sullivan, convinced that one of those fingers was an obscene gesture, canceled Mr. Mason’s six-show contract and refused to pay him for the performance. Mr. Mason sued, and won.The two later reconciled, but the damage was done. Club owners and booking agents now regarded him, he said, as “crude and unpredictable.”

“People started to think I was some kind of sick maniac,” Mr. Mason told Look. “It took 20 years to overcome what happened in that one minute.”His career went into a slump, punctuated by bizarre instances of bad luck. In Las Vegas in 1966, after he made a few ill-considered remarks about Frank Sinatra’s recent marriage to the much younger Mia Farrow (“Frank soaks his dentures and Mia brushes her braces,” one joke went), an unidentified gunman fired a .22 pistol into his hotel room.A play he starred in and wrote (with Mike Mortman), “A Teaspoon Every Four Hours,” went through a record-breaking 97 preview performances on Broadway before opening on June 14, 1969, to terrible reviews. It closed after one night, taking with it his $100,000 investment.He also invested in “The Stoolie” (1972), a film in which he played a con man and improbable Romeo. It also failed, taking even more of his money. Roles in sitcoms and films eluded him, although he did make the most of small parts in Mel Brooks’s “History of the World: Part I” (1981) — he was “Jew No. 1” in the Spanish Inquisition sequence — and “The Jerk” (1979), in which he played the gas-station owner who employs Steve Martin.Rebuffed, Mr. Mason set about rebuilding his career with guest appearances on television. His new manager, Jyll Rosenfeld, convinced that the old borscht belt comics were ripe for a comeback, encouraged him to bring his act to the theater as a one-man show.

After attracting celebrity audiences in Los Angeles, that show, “The World According to Me!,” opened on Broadway in December 1986 and ran for two years. It earned Mr. Mason a special Tony Award in 1987, as well as an Emmy for writing after HBO aired an abridged version in 1988.

“I didn’t think it would work,” Mr. Mason said. “But people, when they come into a theater, see you in a whole new light. It’s like taking a picture from a kitchen and hanging it in a museum.”In 1991 Mr. Mason married Ms. Rosenfeld, who survives him. He is also survived by a daughter, the comedian Sheba Mason, from a relationship with Ginger Reiter in the 1970s and ’80s.“The World According to Me!” generated a series of sequels — “Politically Incorrect,” “Love Thy Neighbor,” “Prune Danish” and others — which carried Mr. Mason through the 1990s and into the new millennium.He published an autobiography, “Jackie, Oy!” (written with Ken Gross), in 1988. He also found a new sideline as an opinionated political commentator on talk radio. In the 2016 presidential campaign, he was one of the few well-known entertainers to support Donald J. Trump.Mr. Mason’s forays into political commentary caused him trouble. He was reported to have used a Yiddish word considered to be a racial slur in talking about David N. Dinkins, the Black mayoral candidate, at a Plaza Hotel luncheon in 1989. Mr. Mason was a campaigner for Mr. Dinkins’s opponent, Rudolph W. Giuliani. Mr. Giuliani said the incident had been blown out of proportion but nevertheless dismissed Mr. Mason from the campaign. Mr. Mason at first refused to apologize but did so later.

He drew attention for using the same word regarding President Barack Obama during a performance in 2009.Appearances on the cartoon series “The Simpsons,” as the voice of Rabbi Hyman Krustofski, the father of Krusty the Clown, confirmed his newfound status, and earned him a second Emmy. Not even the 1988 bomb “Caddyshack II,” in which he was a last-minute replacement for Rodney Dangerfield, or the ill-fated “Chicken Soup,” a 1989 sitcom co-starring Lynn Redgrave that died quickly, could slow his improbable transformation from borscht belt relic into hot property.“I’ve been doing this for a hundred thousand years, but it’s like I was born last Thursday,” Mr. Mason once said of his career turnaround. “They see me as today’s comedian. Thank God I stunk for such a long time and was invisible, so I could be discovered.”

Michael Levenson contributed reporting.

Phroyd

[malfoys-demigod]

Hi, can I request a fic where Reader meets Spencer's Mom for the first time? So like, at the start Spencer is talking to his Mom about reader on a visit, and shows her photos of you, saying how much he loves you and how much he wants to marry you and she insists on meeting you. Reader is nervous as she doesn't have a good relationship with her Mom, but it turns out Diana adores you and shows you pictures of baby Spencer, little baby facts about him and tells Spencer how perfect you are for him💜

She’s Perfect - Spencer Reid x Reader

Requested by anon!

SPENCER’S POV

“She’s ready to see you, Mr. Reid.” said the nurse in the front desk. 

Despite having a pants dropping schedule at work, I always managed to find time for Y/N, and of course my mother. Even if I write to her everyday, being able to physically be with her hits differently. I get to entertain her by discussing how my day at work usually goes. I never brought up Y/N. I figured she didn’t want to see her son fly away into the arms of another woman but Y/N has been something special to me and it’s about time I share that part of my life with my mom. 

I take a big deep breath as I see my mom cleaning up her checkers game. “Hi, Mom.” I walked over, greeting her with a big hug. 

“Spencer, good to see you!” My mom looked at me, happy to finally see a familiar face again. “How have you been? It’s been awhile since you’ve visited.” 

“I’m sorry, work has recently been demanding. We’ve been receiving so many cases that sometimes after every case, we start a new one the next day! It’s been super crazy that our boss Agent Hotch considers sleeping overnight in his office! I can’t even get to allot myself time to spend time with either Y/N or you-“, Mom stopped my rambling as she heard an unfamiliar name, “Y/N? Who’s Y/N?” She asks, placing a finger on her chin.

 “She’s the love of my life, mom.” I said, smiling like a schoolboy in love, “I’ve been a proud boyfriend for 5 years and counting. I actually have pictures of her! Here.” I excitedly said, pulling out my phone which contained several hundreds of pictures of her. “This is her on our first date. We spent the day at the library, showing each other our favorite books.” 

I grinned even wider than before that I saw mom looking at me as if she’s never seen me this happy. “You must really love her, don’t you Spence?” She asked, rubbing me in the back. 

“With all my heart, mom.” I nodded. “From the very first day I laid eyes on her, I already knew she was going to be someone special to me. Being in love is a magical thing, but it doesn't always look the same for every couple. Some people fall in love and never express that love, others fall in love with someone who doesn't feel the same way, and sometimes people fall in love but can't make it work. Then, there are the lucky ones like me and Y/N who fall in love and whose love is returned. The admiration is mutual, we put each other first despite both having challenging jobs, and we feel safe in each other’s arms. I’m positively sure that I’m ready to ask for her hand in marriage, mom. I’m scared and nervous but receiving your blessing will help me overcome my anxiousness.” I reply whole heartedly, shedding a tear from my eye. 

She so happens to see it and quickly wipes it off my face. “Spencer, I am extremely proud of you in every way possible and now seeing that you have somebody in your life who can be your true anchor is something special in life. I give you my blessings…” 

“I feel like there’s a but after that.” I said, waiting for a response. 

“But I insist on meeting your soon to be a fiancé. It’s about time I meet the young lady who’s been putting a smile on my son’s face for all these years!” She playfully demanded, putting her hands into a prayer form. 

I truly wanted her to meet Y/N so I nodded, promising her she’d see her by the end of next week. I now just had to convince Y/N to find time to go with me to see mom. 

The minute I got back home, I wanted to make tonight special, hoping the chances of asking Y/N to meet my mom would be higher. I cleaned up our shared apartment, cooked her favorite meal, and lighted up the candles to set the mood. 

She arrived exactly 20 minutes after I arrived, looking surprisingly calm after a hard day’s work. Big heart eyes were formed as she saw me waiting by the dinning table with a fully prepared feast awaiting her. 

“Spence, you made us my favorite!” Then her big heart eyes popped, forming a nervous look, “Oh my gosh, did I forget our anniversary? Do we have a special occasion? Oh my gosh I-“ “Not to worry, love. Just felt like making your favorite!” I interrupted, calming her. 

“Just felt like it? I have a hunch that there’s more than that. Did you secretly do something bad and you’re trying to make up for it? Did you lose my favorite sweater? Did you break something?” she vivaciously guessed. 

“Not quite.” I chuckled. “So I went to see my mom, and I finally told her about you!” 

“Aw! That’s so sweet of you to do. How is Diane?” 

“She’s intrigued by you, Y/N! I told her I’d bring you by next week to finally meet her.” 

“Oh.” was all she said as she walked over to the dining table and quietly took a sip from her water. Sitting across from her, I reached over to hold her hand, trying to get her to look at me. “Is there something wrong, Y/N? You don’t seem excited to meet her. Do you not want to meet her?” I questioned, looking sad. 

She finally looked up as she placed her hand over mine, “No, I’d love to meet her but I’m nervous Spencer but for reasons not concerning her but concerning my mother.” she quietly replied. “Obviously you’re fully aware that I may not have the perfect relationship with my mother. I used to be extremely close with her at a young age but as I started to grow older, I despised her for personal reasons, resulting in constant fights with her, tremendously damaging our relationship. The minute I turned 18, I decided to move away from her, only being in contact with my father. Sure, there are times where I have to see her, but my interactions with her are different. I can barely share eye contact with her or continue a conversation with her after more than 5 sentences. What I’m trying to say is, what if I develop a similar relationship with your mother, Spence? What if it turns out that she doesn’t like me? After all, I’m taking her only child away from her. I’m not after all a ‘mom person’ so what if I don’t have a good relationship with her in general? I’m so frightened by all the possibilities!” she broke down, heavily sobbing. 

I quickly stood up from my chair across hers to sit down beside her, giving her a bone-crushing hug, rubbing her back, “Love, it’s alright. Let it all out.” I whispered in her ear, “Y/N/N, you know why she’s intrigued by you? It’s because of all the things I told her about you. Do you know how I love you? First of all, I know what love is because I feel it. I believe that when you are in love with someone, you feel the feelings that you read about in books. When you see your person, your heart leaps a little bit. You long for their touch, and you want to know everything about them. Spending time together is lovely, and you care about their hopes and dreams. Second, I never question our relationship. One way to know I love you as much as you love me has to do with how much time I spend questioning the relationship. Do you think that I want to be in this relationship but just aren’t sure? Do I think about whether I’m making a mistake in committing to you? Do I find myself rationalizing my relationship more often than not? People who love someone else as much as they love them don’t constantly question the relationship. They are secure in the fact the love is real and equal and that a commitment to it is a smart one. Finally, my attention for you never wanders. My eyes are always set on you and you only. They never wander around, looking for other potential mates as they are devoted to looking at you forever. You’re special, Y/N. My mom can feel it and it’s time she sees it.” I told her, kissing her in the cheek. 

“Wow, Spence. I’m speechless.” she chuckles, “I guess it’s time I meet the mother who gave life to this genius right here.” she nods, embracing me. 

-- 

One week has passed and I could sense that Y/N was genuinely excited, more excited than me perhaps. We walked hand-in-hand, entering the care home where my mom awaited to see my girl. 

As we walked in, mom unexpectedly noticed us first, speed walking over to us, opening her arms for a hug, “You must be the very special Y/N Y/L/N. It’s such an honor to meet my boy’s girlfriend.” she smiles, “Come, sit beside me.” she walks over to the couch. 

“The honor is all mine, Mrs. Reid! I’m delighted to finally meet the mother who raised the special man in my life.” Y/N politely said, sitting down beside her, “I brought you some baked goods I made for this special day.” she said, excited to give her the goods I helped make. 

Mom gasped, happily taking the goods. She then looked at me with a proud face, “Beautiful and thoughtful. She’s a keeper, Spence and honey, please call me Diane or Diana.” she nodded, giving me a thumbs up. 

“I know she is.” I proudly say, wrapping an arm around Y/N. 

“I’m so lucky to have a smart, caring, and handsome man, Diane.” Y/N said, placing a small peck on my cheek. Mom raised a finger in the air, “Speaking of handsome, I have baby pictures of our handsome man right here.” she said, digging up pictures from her bag.  “Wasn’t he a cutie pie?” she asked, presenting baby pictures of me. Usually I would be embarrassed, but seeing my two constant rays of sunshines, I couldn’t help but watch them gush over me together. It was something I was definitely remembering for life. 

As hours passed by, mom had dozens of pictures to go about with you as with every picture shown, she’d give out a single fact about me when I was a baby. You know how time passes real by when you have fun? I for sure, felt that. If I can recall, we arrived at 1pm and even though it felt like only a couple of hours passed by, it was already 7pm as visiting times were ending. Neither Y/N or I wanted to leave as we both felt safe and sound in the presence of mom. But rest assured, mom told Y/N that we were always welcome to swing by at any time as she loved having the two of us fill her day with happiness. Before we left, Y/N took the time to go to the ladies room, leaving me with mom, who took the chance to tell me something before we left. 

“Spence,” she said, grasping my hand, “I don’t know how you did it but you just found the perfect girl to walk this world. Like I said, she’s definitely a keeper. She’s perfect. I don’t want you to lose her or let her go. I can recognize a life long-lasting partner when I see one, and that’s her. Your relationship will last a lifetime, kiddo. If you’re planning to marry her like you said, ‘anytime’ is now, Spencer. Marrying Y/N will make me the proudest mama on earth.” she said, looking at me with a smile on her face. 

“Thank you, mom. I will make you the proudest mama on earth.. soon” I said, nodding in agreeance. 

[drreidfics]

Dr. Reid and the Broken Girl pt1.

DR. REID AND THE BROKEN GIRL (Working Title)

Characters : SpencerReid x FemReader

Warnings : Abuse, Hints of Self Harm.

CAUTION // TW // THIS BOOK DEALS WITH MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, SEXUAL ASSULT, SELF HARM, MENTAL ILLNESS AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. IT ALSO INCLUDES A LOT OF RATED-R MATERIAL. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ.

Here I am again, on the floor, begging him to stop. There he is again, laughing at my pleas and forcing himself inside of me. Almost every night he climbs into my bed, then in the morning, he pretends everything is normal. When anyone is around, he acts charming. He is able to trick everyone into thinking everything is fine. Well, it's not.

My phone buzzed to life at the side of me. The alarm was going off but I had been up for hours, staring at the flecks of dust dancing around the air. The sunlight streamed in through my thin, white drapes. It was beautiful out. It was the middle of May and bound to be hot out in Arizona. I could feel the warmth on my skin already. I needed to shower and get all this sticky sweat off my skin. It wasn't even mine. I felt disgusting. His touch lingered everywhere on me. The bruises he gave me stained my skin more than the self inflicted cuts.

'Morning Ms. y/l/n. Last night was lovely. See you at lunch?'. It was a text from Mr Reid. He was my psychology professor. Older than me, at thirty, he had long dark hair and deep brown eyes. His hair curled slightly at the end. He was tall and slim. Smart and nerdy, having two degrees and a doctorate, he left his job at the FBI for something less mentally draining. He had worked there since he was twenty-two.  I was twenty-one making our age gap quite small. Look at me, trying to convince myself that it even mattered. He was a lovely guy. Friendly, and handsome. He wouldn't fall in love with a student, and if he did, that student would never be me. He was too smart for that.

"Morning Dr. Reid. Thank-you for taking me. It was a fun eve! Yes, see you at lunch. We can have a chat about the stuff we saw yesterday =)". I read the message over and over again before hitting send. I was nervous as I usually always say stupid things. My low self esteem affected me very much. I was twenty-one, already with one degree and going back to do another. I was still living at Sharon's and I haven't had a boyfriend. He texted me back instantly.

"Can't wait! Need a lift to school? =)" I smiled down at my battered iPhone 6. I couldn't afford a brand new phone. I was lucky in that I only had to work a few hours a week at the local book store and that it was something I enjoyed doing. Sharon was good to me. She helped me pay for and make my way through college. I don't know what or where I would be without her. On the other hand, she brought the human spawn of the devil into my life.

"No thnx, Luna is picking me up =)" I sent but then instantly regretted it. I love my best friend but I would have preferred a ride with Dr. Reid. Our conversations were always interesting and insightful. We could talk about a wide range of subjects for hours and it would only feel like minutes passed.

"Ok, see u soon Y/N"

I smiled, almost forgetting my problems before catching glimpse of myself in the mirror. My fragile, battered body stared back. I sighed. He could never find a girl like me attractive. Not that it mattered anyway. Silly little girl crush.

After debating whether it was best to just find the nearest bridge in town and throw my self off or get ready for school (I am very mentally unwell), I decided on the latter. Luna had already texted me to inform me that she was about to set off. Knowing Luna, which I have had the pleasure of knowing for fifteen years (no sarcasm in there), ten minutes would be ten years.

I staggered down the dreaded stairs, almost losing my footing a few times, feeling light headed. I entered the brightly lit kitchen. It was so bright that I could feel an aching behind my eyes. The decor was simplistic, all white with gold features. Classic business mom who is never home asthetic going on.

       Sharon sat at the island, face absorbed in her laptop. She was in her late forties with short, mousey hair. I believe she would be referred to as a 'Karen'. She looked nothing like Dom. She was short, like me, and fairly slim. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders. Quarterback star player with the strength to show for it. He could snap us both in half. Dominic is Sharon's only child. Yes, that is correct. She is not my mum. I lost her.

Sharon looked up at me, flashing me a warm smile, still bashing the keys to her MacBook. She took a sip of her black coffee, nibbling on some cold toast. "You look like shit" she stated; matter of factly, her face blank.   '"Thanks?'" I answered with a raised eyebrow. I walked over to the coffee machine and put in a pod, sticking my travel cup underneath. 77Kcals of goodness. All the fuel I will need this morning. "Sweetheart, don't act like that. You know I'm just saying. You need to sleep more" '"I know" I sighed. It was true... "But that makes two of us" I retorted cheekily with a grin.        "Oh sweetheart, don't I know it" she raised her cup as if toasting the comment before gulping the last bit of coffee.

Sharon was my guardian, though not anymore as I was an adult and of drinking age. She still cared for me though as if I were her own. My mom died when I was seven and my dad had a breakdown. He couldn't cope. One day I came home from school and he was gone. He didn't say a word to anyone. He packed up his stuff and  left me. I hated him for a while. The anger within me burned to my core. After a while I felt sympathy. He didn't get the help that he needed. If he did then we both wouldn't be in this mess. We'd be happy - together. I doubt he would know how to contact me now.

Aunt Sharon took me in. She wasn't really my aunt, she was my mom's best friend. She was the only connection to my mother that I had left besides her wedding ring. She loved her dearly and I believe she loves me dearly too. It's not her fault she can't protect me. She works herself to death trying to help me live my dreams. Dom wasn't the child that she had always wanted. He is doing nothing with his life. That is something I will alway's respect of her, single mom raising her child and somebody else's.

I loved her, though she did have the tendency to dish out tough love which often was way - way too harsh. And she was always away leaving me with him. I knew that if I'd only just tell her what he was capable of... What he would do to me when she left... She'd have murdered him herself with her bare hands. But it would kill her. I couldn't do that to her. He was the only thing she had who was blood. Me, I had no-one.

"shit! Is that the time? I'm going to be late. I gotta go, honey. Say bye to Dom for me." she pleaded as she stuffed the last slice of toast in her mouth and gathered her briefcase and her keys. " ...And make sure you have something to eat. You're wasting away!"                                   "Have a good day at work Shaz" I shouted after her. I doubt that she heard me. She was out the door in seconds, jangling her keys and fighting between speaking with me and the ringtone on her work mobile. I heard her professional, scripted 'Hello, Sharon Cormack speaking' as the door slammed behind her.

I made my way through the spotless kitchen Gina, Sharon's housekeeper, always did a good job. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the integrated refrigerator. I also grabbed my iced latte from the coffee machine. It was almost half eight. My first classes start at nine and Luna still wasn't anywhere in sight. I scrambled through my purse for my phone, ready to give her a piece of my mind. That girl would be late to her own funeral.

"You're up early" a voice from behind me sneered. It took all my might to not to curl up in a ball, trembling.

"I... I have school"

No reply. I felt him creeping up behind me, felt his breath against my neck.

"I can think of something much better to do with the day baby"  he whispered as he planted acid kisses on my neck. It burned. I squeezed my eyes shut, putting my hands up defensively. He pushed my back into the counter. A sharp pain ran though me.

"Please stop. I have to go" I whispered as his hand snaked its way up my neck, fist knotting tightly in my hair.

'"Why do you think a whore like you has the right to tell me what to do, hm?"

'- Hello? Katy?'  Luna's smooth voice called out in sing song.

Oh, thank god for her and her timing. He released me from his grasp and increased the distance between us. His eyes were clouded. I could tell he was pissed. I brushed passed him, running towards Luna, who was standing by the open door. I ran straight into her arms hugging her tightly.

"I thought you'd never show." I whispered. She rested her chin on my shoulder, stroking my hair. I could tell that she was staring daggers at Dom and I could tell he didn't care. Like I said, the same routine. Every morning.

By the time lunch rolled around I had had enough. had gotten into a lot of trouble with Ms. Hallows over an overdue assignment and I had spilt water all down the front of my jeans. It looked like I had pissed myself. My saving grace is that they were dark jeans and so it wasn't too noticable. That didn't stop Georgie from laughing and calling me pissy pants for half the day.

Georgie was the kind of girl that you would avoid in high school. Everybody wanted to be her but everyone hated her so bad. She had golden brunette locks, a slim face and a petite nose. Her friends Nova and Ari were just as bad. Everyone used to tell you that when you left high school things would be different. I am sorry to inform you that they don't. Bullies stay bullies forever.

I forced my way through the groups of students, crowded together in the corridors. The last thing I wanted was to be late for my chat with Mr. Reid

"Y/N" I heard Luna calling after me. I could tell that she was chasing me through the crowd of students.  "Y/N. Look, Y/N stop." I rolled my eyes.

"What?" I snapped. I could see the hurt in her eyes. She leaned on the wall, panting. I sighed. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?" I asked. I felt bad for snapping at her. All she wanted was answers, like anyone would have after walking in on what she did. But I don't give answers. I shut down. I don't tell anyone anything. She tried talking once we got in the car. I ignored her and I ran once we'd arrived at school. She didn't even need to speak. I could just tell what she wanted to talk about from the look on her face. I sighed again.

"Luna, I can't talk about this right now."  I saw the hurt in her eyes. If I kept pushing her away then eventually she wouldn't fight to stay. 'Good', a small voice whispered in my head. Maybe that would be for the best. She deserves better. Everyone does. I could just end my life today and nobody would care. I used to fight hard against the suicidal ideations that entered my mind but now I didn't see the point.

"I have my meeting and I can't be late. Taco Bell after classes?" I asked. To my relief, she smiled and nodded, that beautiful smile that I loved so much. She was so easy to please. I smiled and walked away towards room 1980. Dr. Reid's office.

"I love you!" she shouted after me smiling.

"I love you more!"

"Lesbians" Georgie mocked. She was stood near the bathrooms. I rolled my eyes.

"Grow up"

Luna was gay but we weren't together. We had been intimate a few times but nothing had come of it. But so what if it had? We both agreed it felt weird as we had known each other as friends for so long. We didn't want to ruin anything. Luna and I had been friends ever since she opened up my juice box for me in kindergarten and then hit the girl who had stolen my straw. We had been inseparable ever since. She's been with me through thick and thin. I'd hate to think where I'd have been if she hadn't been there when my mom had died. We are and will alway's be the best of friends. In another life I could see us growing old together, adopting puppies and children but sometimes, it doesn't work out. And if you love someone, you have to let them go.

I opened the door to 1980 and as soon as I did my heart fluttered in my chest. There he was, as beautiful as ever. He looked up from the book he was reading, glasses perched on his nose and smiled, he seemed glad to see me.

"Sweetie!" he said, a smile spreading across his gorgeous lips. He's the only person who calls me that.

"Dr. Reid"  I smiled back. My smile was huge and I probably looked so dorky but I don't care. My day just got brighter. I pulled up a chair next to him and kicked my feet up onto his lap. He rested his hand on my calf.

"So what did you think to the book?"

[snarkwrites]

01 | gangsta | sweetpea

Notes:

I’d say I’m sorry for starting a 3rd multi chapter series but I’m honestly not. I haven’t written a whole lot for Riverdale, but this idea just kinda came to me and I rolled with it? Anyway, yeah.. If people really like this, I might be tempted to keep this going beyond just the few parts I already kind of have halfway planned.

Huge hug to @twistnet​ because their writing about Sweetpea kind of awakened and fuelled this and if you’re not reading their fics, you really should tbh. 

Summary:

They clearly don’t mix. But sometimes, opposites attract. The only question is will these two’s sparks cause an inferno or go down in flames?

Ugh.. I hate my summaries, thanks.

Pairing:

Andrews!OFC, Alyssa x Sweetpea. Yep. She’s Archie’s sister. I couldn’t resist.

Warnings:

Uhh... teen angst, relationship drama, sexual tension, possible fights / violence here and there and.. That’s pretty much it. Oh yeah and eventually, filth.

Also, this is probably not going to follow seasons 2 through present to the letter. Actually, I’ll venture to warn now, it definitely will not. Because there’s some things in it that I’ve seen so far that make zero actual sense. And there’s probably not going to be a whole lot of Archie,Betty,Jugs and Veronica in here too, because this is me, kind of writing all the side characters into things a little more?

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ 

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc - soundtrack ] 

                                                  ONE.

“Sweet Pea, you’ll be working with Alyssa Andrews.”

I didn’t dare turn to look back at the guy. He was probably one of the most intimidating guys in Riverdale High. He hardly spoke to anyone unless it was one of the two friends he happened to have. Neither of them were in this class period.

The teacher, seeming impressed with himself, gave a nod to Sweet Pea and Sweet Pea grumbled, stalking up the aisle and flopping lazily into the empty seat next to mine. Our sides brushed a little when he moved his desk closer after getting a look from our teacher. I tried not to tense up.

Sweet Pea seemed to notice. He smirked at me.

Leaned in a little.

“Relax, cherry. I don’t bite unless I’m asked.” he muttered against my ear. My breath caught in my throat and I was promptly thrown into the mother of all internal uproars. I shoved the book between us wordlessly, not even daring to glance over at him.

I was not about to let him take pride in the fact that he made me blush or rattled me, not even a little.

Our sides brushed again and I pursed my lips, taking a deep breath. Across the classroom, Reggie was already working with one of the other girls on my squad. I watched them laughing and flirting back and forth and I shook my head, rolling my eyes.

“I’m supposed to be his girl and  yet.. It’s as if I don’t even exist.” I muttered, mostly to myself. Annoyed at myself for being hurt over it because it shouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Reggie was a flirt. I’d known that going into things. I’d tried not to let it get to me. Tried to remind myself that nine times out of ten, he wasn’t doing it intentionally.

But tell that to Mandy. Mandy automatically thinks that any guy who flirts with her is in love with her, my brain weighed in on the matter and I sighed, drumming my nails against the desktop, glancing over my shoulder at the two and rolling my eyes all over again. I just knew I was going to have to hear about this all afternoon at practice.

“So you’re a River Vixen, huh, cherry?” he muttered after a few seconds, nodding to the cheerleading uniform I was wearing. I could feel him staring at me and sure enough, when I bothered to tear my eyes off of Reggie across the room and in full flirt mode with Mandy, he was looking me up and down. He repeated his question.

Just something about the tone he took when asking it both times that he’d done so had me jumpy. Defensive. He said it with this air of disdain. Making it obvious for the thousandth time since our school merged that he hated Riverdale High.

“Mhm.” I kept my best calm and neutral tone, despite the fact that I knew he was probably being judgemental. Or that he was being a tease. Maybe even both. “I have a name, by the way.”

“I know. But you also have bright red hair.” Sweet Pea shrugged, barely containing the smirk the second he realized that maybe he was getting to me.

“Yes. I realize this. But my name is Alyssa.” I muttered, my voice dropping lower. Trying my best not to let the giant of a Serpent intimidate me because that wasn’t who I was. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Relax… Cherry.” Sweet Pea smirked at me.

“You just had to do that.” I grumbled quietly, shaking my head. I tried to focus more on the reading part of our assignment for today, but I couldn’t. Between Sweet Pea and the fact that I couldn’t tell whether he was teasing me, being an ass overall or a little of both and knowing that my own boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to butt in on my behalf and offer to switch with the guy because ‘his stupid pride’ and his thing against any and all Southsiders, my mind was already too full.

I finished my worksheet and glanced over at Sweet Pea, watching his eyes move over the page. Watching the way his tongue rolled over his lips as he wrote out his answers on the worksheet in front of him.

I jumped when without even looking at me, he muttered calmly, “See somethin you want, cherry?”

“No, I was actually just making sure you were actually doing the work.” I retorted, biting my lip when the words came a little harsher than I meant. He stopped writing and laid down his pencil, glancing up at me.

“Aw. Is somebody mad because her so-called boyfriend ditched her with a Serpent to go work with one of her little Valley girl clone besties?”

“Eat shit.” I snapped, tensing. Holding his gaze defiantly.

“You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth, cherry?”

My cheeks burned hot. Kissing was about all I did to Reggie Mantle with my mouth. And I never seemed to hear the end of it with most of the other girls on my squad, either. It was as if my sex life, or lack thereof, was the main topic of discussion pretty much any given moment.

,, And probably why he’s working with Mandy instead of you right now. You know he’s getting tired of getting stopped at second base.” my mind taunted me. I took a few deep breaths to really keep from losing my temper and I shrugged, not bothering to answer Sweet Pea. 

I don’t think I’ve ever made a faster retreat than the one I made the second the bell to end class rang. I grabbed my stuff up in a hurry, flustered and a little annoyed. Definitely angry.

Reggie caught up to me in the hallway, holding out his letterman’s jacket.

The one I’d been in such a rush to leave class that I’d left behind. I was beyond tempted to shove the jacket back at him and tell him maybe he needed to give it to Mandy. Or Veronica. Or any of the other girls he’s constantly talking to. But I bit my tongue and took it.

I didn’t feel like speaking up, telling him it bothered me when he went into charmer mode only to have him promise not to anymore and then turn to do it all over again not even an hour later. The whole thing was infuriating, more than a little redundant by now.

“You okay, princess?”

Reggie eyed me as he asked the question and again, I heavily debated telling him exactly what was wrong with me, but again I chose not to.

It wasn’t worth the argument.

It hurt, but it wasn’t worth the hassle.

I plastered on what I hoped was my best convincing smile and leaned against his side, letting his arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

I tensed when Reggie spoke up, mentioning the fact that I’d gotten paired to work with Sweet Pea for the semester. “Ya know, you could’ve said somethin, princess.”

“You know how Mr. Keaton is, Reg. It wouldn’t have mattered.” I muttered, my jaw clenching just a little because it irritated me. Did he not see that it went both ways and stop to think that maybe, just maybe… If he didn’t feel like it was important to do on my behalf, maybe I didn’t see the sense in making waves for him?

He chuckled, rubbing his chin as he leaned against the locker next to mine when we stopped at mine so I could switch out my books. I stopped digging through my books and notebooks to gaze up at him. “It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged it off.

Honestly? It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t see any difference between the jerk of a Serpent I’d been paired to work with and Reggie at this particular point in time. ,,I just had an easier time telling one of the two where they could shove it.” my brain saw fit to point this out and I quickly shoved out the intrusive thought.

Reggie wasn’t a bad guy. He just had a few glaring flaws.

At least he wasn’t out late at bars or getting arrested. Or whatever it was that Sweetpea called himself doing as a member of an actual gang.

All I had to go on, of course, were my brother Archie’s interactions with the gang thus far. Outside of Jughead Jones, of course. But to put it technically, Jughead couldn’t really be considered an actual Serpent. Merely one by association.

Reggie seemed content with my answer, pulling me closer as we walked past the section of the hallway where Sweetpea and his friends' lockers were. Glaring at Sweetpea as if he had some kind of point to prove. 

What Sweetpea did was petty. And if I were in a better mood and the guy hadn’t spent all morning making his mission to drive me up the wall, I’d have laughed. 

“Hey Cherry?”

I stopped and turned back, my hand on my hip. “Again. My name is Alyssa.” I reminded him firmly. We locked eyes and I bit my lip, squirming a little under the intense once over he gave me before meeting my gaze again a few seconds later. I dropped my gaze quickly.

Wait, was I blushing right now?

Why was I blushing right now?

“Leather would look better on you.” Sweetpea rubbed his chin thoughtfully, locking eyes with me again for a few seconds when I dared to look up, thinking the whole staredown was over. What surprised me was that as he was letting his eyes roam over me, sizing me up, I actually felt my stomach flipping and flopping lazily. My breath even caught in my throat a little and despite everything, I felt my cheeks burning just slightly at his words and that look in his eyes when they met mine all over again.

I eyed him with a raised brow. When Reggie practically growled from beside me and I had to throw my arm out to stop him from storming over and Sweetpea smirked, I gave him a dirty look.

“ You think you’re slick, Serpent? Talkin to my girl like that?” Reggie was seconds away from storming over. Starting a fight. A fight that I knew would get him benched during the game tonight. I cleared my throat, tensing in front of him. “Reggie, don’t.”

“Why the hell not, huh? Did you hear what he said to you?” Reggie looked down at me. It was clear he was wound up, the fuse was lit. All I could do was roll my eyes. Keep quiet. Because if I opened my mouth right now, I was going to wind up arguing with Reggie. And it was over something stupid. Pointless. I knew what Sweetpea was up to right now. If Reggie didn’t, that wasn’t exactly my problem.

Yes, I was still very bitter about his lack of a solution in class earlier. That was it. That was the entire reason I wasn’t about to step up and defend my relationship with Reggie after Sweetpea’s remark called it to question.

,, now he says something. It only took Sweetpea being an ass. Questioning Reggie’s role as my boyfriend. Oh no, he couldn’t stop me from being paired with Sweetpea earlier, when he knew it made me uncomfortable. He wanted to make it into my fault that I said nothing, too.”  the thought came, making me even more irritable, especially when I couldn’t shove it out.

Sweetpea smirked when our eyes met again and I bit my lip, quickly dropping my gaze. God forbid I stir things up even further…

,, why does it feel like I’m gonna come undone when he looks at me like that? He’s clearly doing it just to get under Reggie’s skin, there’s no way in hell he actually wants me.” I found myself thinking, only to get annoyed by the fact that yes, it did bother me to know that.

XXX

“The guy spent the whole period hitting on another girl. Right in front of her. I mean, it’s her fault if she’s too stupid to take that as a huge hint.” Sweetpea finished his tangent and promptly raised his brows, swallowing the food he’d shoveled in as he’d been ranting to Toni and Fangs.

Toni and Fangs shared a look.

“I knew he liked her. I called it.” Toni teased triumphantly, high fiving Fangs.

“What the fuck? No!” Sweetpea practically growled the words. Glaring at both Toni and Fangs when they gave him a look as if to say ‘Riiiight. Sure ya don’t.’ but said nothing. “I’m just pointing out she’s obviously too stupid to see what’s obvious.”

“And that little dig in the hallway was what?” Toni questioned, laughing when all Pea could do was open and close his mouth and then finally take a very aggressive bite of his burger. “It was me, stirring her up. Look, she’s hot. That’s it.” Sweetpea insisted firmly.

“If that were it, you wouldn’t always be glancing over at her. Getting that angry look whenever you see her around with that prick Mantle.” Fangs pointed out, earning him a glare from Sweetpea. Fangs continued, despite it. “And the whole reason you moved the fight from Andrews house to that vacant lot after you saw her in the upstairs window.. Why did you do that, again?” smirking when Sweetpea clenched his fists and grumbled at him, answering quietly, “I didn’t think it’d be right for her to have to watch her brother getting his ass handed to him. That’s it.”

A throat clearing had the three looking up.

Alyssa stood there, a hand on her hip. Glaring down at Sweetpea who flashed her a smirk.

“See something you want, cherry?” Sweetpea teased, taking a handful of fries from his plate, biting into them. Holding her gaze steady. A little annoyed with himself at the way his heart fluttered and sped up just the slightest as he did this.

“It’s.. You know what? Nevermind. Call me whatever, I don’t care. But no. I don’t. I did come over here to tell you whatever it is you're up to, I don’t appreciate being dragged into the middle of it. I know you’re only doing this in the first place to wind Reggie up. I’m not stupid.” Alyssa said the words with a jaw clenched tight. Glaring at Sweetpea.

Until he licked his lips and Toni happened to see the way her eyes followed the movement helplessly and began to really sit there and quietly assess the situation. Smiling to herself as her own suspicions formed exactly as to why Sweetpea’s actions as of late bothered Alyssa Andrews so much.

She kept it to herself.

Sweetpea chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t know why it bothers you. The guy’s an asshole. Do better, Cherry.” he waved his hand dismissively at her as if he were shooing her from the spot she stood in at the end of the table. Alyssa glared and folded her arms, tapping her foot as her mouth opened and closed for a minute or two.

Then she turned sharp and stormed off. Finding her own table with Reggie and the rest of the football players and cheerleaders.

Sweetpea found himself staring at her, shaking his head. Clenching his fists. “I don’t get it. How does she not see her whole thing with that asshole is one sided, huh?”

“The more important question to ask, Pea, is why in the hell it bothers you so much? They’re Northsiders man, leave ‘em to whatever it is.” Fangs shrugged everything off, taking a sip of the soda in front of him as he leaned back in the chair lazily.

Sweetpea ignored his friend and found himself watching the table Alyssa sat at again. Watching her. The way she threw her head back to laugh. The bright little smile that gave him the distinct feeling that yes, she could certainly be a handful if she really wanted to and she were really being her truest self. He  glared at Reggie when the two locked eyes after a few minutes.

And while the advice his best friend Fangs gave him was a good idea in theory, it was not an idea good enough to stop Sweetpea. Even though Sweetpea knew good and well that it probably should’ve been.

He needed to just let go.

He’d die before admitting it, but knowing he’d never have a chance with her only made him want her so much more. Enough that maybe the thought took root.. Maybe he could keep stirring things up. At the very least, Reggie wouldn’t have her all to himself anymore after it all played out. ,, and anybody is better than that fucking prick Mantle.” Sweetpea shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it came, because he knew deep down it was a lie.

He wanted her. All to himself.

[georgiaswarr]

georgia warr

never been in love - gatlin

a song about wanting to be in love but not being able to be in love, which is very fitting for georgia’s initial situation. i’ve put this at the beginning of this playlist because - spoiler alert - the last song on here is also called never been in love and i think these two songs symbolise georgia’s journey in a very mint way. also, the first line of this song is “that boy from georgia was so sweet” which i think is pretty funny

somebody to love - queen

the title says it all. georgia wants to find somebody to love. i mean, she’s already found them, but we’ll get to that later.

paradise - coldplay

georgia is a big dreamer and yearner and i think this song really encapsulates that on so many levels. i mean “when she was just a girl / she expected the world / but it flew away from her reach / so she ran away in her sleep” that’s georgia !

tous les garçons et les filles - françoise hardy

french song because i’m ~quirky~ but this song is basically about seeing everyone else be in relationships and feeling lonely/wanting one for yourself

waiting for love - avicii

georgia is a hopeless romantic, but she’s still waiting for her own grand romance (she still hasn’t realised that the “love” she’s “waiting for” has already “come around”)

dear no one - tori kelly

georgia “i want someone to be in love with but there is no one” warr, at least at the beginning of the book

chaos - miki fiki

this song can be interpreted with various themes of the book in mind such as yearning for something you don’t have, feeling lonely, emotional turmoil, etc, it’s a banger

i walk a little faster - fiona apple

highjacked from @kindaorangey’s loveless playlist (they’ve done a great rundown here). this song has similar themes to dear no one, anticipating that romance will come to you, but it hasn’t, despite how hard you chase it, how fast you walk

when - dodie

shoutout to @drarrystar for recommending this song to me because so many of the lines reflect georgia to the core. just look up the lyrics and you’ll agree

deeper - ella eyre

“cause i’m scared, i can’t lie / i don’t feel the same inside / i can’t decide if i have the heart to confess” georgia thinks she can learn to love jason romantically if she just digs a little deeper

loneliness for love - lovelytheband

“anything at all not to feel alone / anything at all just to feel whole / ‘cause i keep mistaking loneliness for love”

a little more - alessia cara

“there you are with your college friends / you played in a marching band / i can't help but wish i knew you then / but i guess i know you now // it looks as if i've stumbled right into the palm of your hand // hey, you / hey, mr. knock on my door / i'm sorry that I've been emotions galore / am i crazy for wanting a little bit more? / a little more of you” georgia about sunil. she needs their guidance and wishes he’d been there for her earlier.

stuck in california - rightfield

a song about feeling alone and alienated by everyone and everything around you, and waiting for your “stars to align”, which fits georgia if you ask me

seven - taylor swift

georgiapip song !!!!!! it’s also about how alienating it can be to grow up and lose your childhood innocence, and i have a lot of thoughts about a very specific brand of growing pains that come with being aspec, but that’s a topic for another day

te amo - rihanna

this is a song about having someone be romantically in love with you and the heartbreak that comes from not being able to reciprocate those feelings --> georgia about jason

love love love - of monsters and men

same as te amo. it hits especially hard when you do love the other person so fucking much

ceiling won’t break - finish ticket

this song gives me georgia’s emotional turmoil vibes, also the line “i see no lights ‘cause the lights weren’t aimed at me” can be interpreted in a “cupid’s arrows didn’t hit georgia” way if you get what i mean

lack of emotion - skott

once again we are dealing with themes of not being able to feel the emotions that you “““““should”““““ feel for someone

let me go - hailee steinfeld

another song about georgia and jason’s (romantic) relationship and how it was doomed to fail from the beginning so she hopes he can let her go

i’m so tired - lauv, troye sivan

i’m just thinking about that line in loveless where georgia resentfully realises how many songs are about romantic love. she’s just so tired

crush culture - conan gray

and another song about being resentful of our romance-obsessed society, which georgia certainly is plenty of times throughout the book

home - ella eyre

christmas break time babey !!!! georgia has reached her low point and she’s going home

i love my car - belle & sebastain

“I pressed a cold hand against my car, which was as far up the drive of our house as it could get. I’d missed my car.” - loveless by alice oseman, celebrating all kinds of love since 2020

i’ve never written a song about a boy - eva westphal

this was actually recommended to me by @michaelholdenn for this playlist ! a song about the liberation that comes with not having to force attraction anymore

this is home - cavetown

i think months ago some ask told alice that this is a loveless song and i agree

why can’t we be friends - jordy searcy

this is about georgia’s strained relationship with pip and jason after the bailey ball and how she wishes they could just be friends again, the way they were all throughout their childhood

chiquitita - abba

okay fuckers THIS is literally the LOVELIEST song about friendship and wanting to be there for your loved ones and i’m sure georgia relates

open up - matt simons

“you’re hard to talk to with that wall around you” vs. “rooney had a solid brick wall round some part of her that nobody was allowed to know.” basically, georgia wants rooney to open up to her

just fucking let me love you - lowen

okay, yes, this song is very gay, but i think it can be applied to georgiarooney too ! the frustration this song expresses of wanting to shake someone and scream at them to just fucking let you love them is definitely shown in loveless when it comes to those two

less than i do - the band camino

georgia about pip. she hopes that pip will forgive her eventually. i mean look at the line “i still have your denim jacket” in the song - georgia still has pip’s jacket too, it’s perfect !!!

friends will be friends - queen

if loveless taught us anything it’s that friends sure fuckin will be friends

stick with me - olly murs

“we all get lonely / trying to find a place where we should be / trying to find someone to set us free / there are times a friend is all you need” you know when alice said that every character in the book feels “loveless” in some way at one point or another, but they all learn the value and importance of platonic love? yeah.

your song - moulin rouge

“and then, with three accompanists, i stood on a boat on the river wear and sang ‘your song’ - the version specifically from moulin rouge - to pip quintana, who didn’t yet know me as well as i wished she did, but despite that, was one of my favourite people i had ever met.”

wherever i live - alessia cara

you know the scene after georgia leaves pip and rooney to their first kiss? yeah, this song really reflects that mindset of half loneliness, half acceptance to me. listen to it.

take time - honest men

accepting your identity takes time ! even by the end of loveless there’s still days when georgia wishes she wasn’t aroace and the book presents this in an amazing and properly nuanced way !

die alone - finneas

"you asked me, ‘do you wanna die alone / or watch it all burn down together?’ / i said i’d rather try to hold on to you forever” this song is very much georgiarooney - finding each other in their darkest of days and watching everything they thought they knew (amatonormativity) burn down. together.

no lover - jetty bones

the next few songs are basically just one aro anthem after the next. this is another recommendation from @michaelholdenn - “maybe i don’t need a lover, i just need the friend”

solo - carly rae jepsen

highjacked from @kindaorangey’s loveless playlist. amazing anthem about how it’s okay to be single and how romantic love isn’t as fulfilling as society makes it out to be anyway

trust my lonely - alessia cara

i think in georgia’s case this song can be interpreted as her learning to finally let go of her pre-conceived notions of what love is and what she should want, her learning to “trust her lonely”, though lonely here just means romance-less

love is a town - josh gilligan

“if [romantic] love is a town then i’m passing through" yeah, romance is not for georgia and she’s starting to accept that.

new romantics - taylor swift

the loveless gang is the new romantics !!! they’re redefining love and romance !!!

team - lorde

“and everyone's competing for a love they won't receive / 'cause what this palace wants is release” anyway, let’s go found family song

wild things - alessia cara

now, i don’t know if alessia cara is queer but I DARE YOU to look at the lyrics of wild things and not tell me that this is the ULTIMATE queer anthem about found family and saying fuck you to respectability politics. i DARE you. anyway, loveless is also about found family and saying fuck you to respectability politics so it’s very fitting

never been in love - will jay

full circle babey !!!!! this is THE aro anthem so obviously i had to add it and comparing the “never been in love / and it’s all good” to the “never been in love / and i fucking hate that i couldn’t make it past a crush” message from the first song we can really reflect georgia’s journey of self-acceptance in loveless which i love a lot

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

Somebody Help Me; the Inspiration Bug for Gotham won’t Leave Me Alone!

It’s just about three in the morning here but just in case this idea is any good, I want to get it posted and get some feedback before I go to bed.

Now, when the Wayne’s died, there was no Alfred to look after him so he was given to Kathryn Monroe who raised him hating himself because he’s intersex (thank persephoneblck for that; she lit that particular fire) and genderfluid, so one day he’s male and one day she’s female (if that isn’t the right term, please tell me and I will fix it). She arranges his marriage to Theo Galavan (disgusting, I know), who is a drug runner and is hoping to get control over Wayne Enterprises and Bruce’s money. He too is cruel to Bruce regarding his sex organs and his ‘gender problems’. He would much rather have a little housewife, but Bruce never developed breasts and everyone knows the Wayne heir is (technically) a male, so he mocks him and knocks him around.

One day, they go to Paris, not for pleasure, but business as he has to make connections with a pair of Mob Bosses known as the frozen duo; Oswald Cobblepot and Victor Fries. Bruce is forced to attend the meeting where Galavan is his usual, slimy self, and poor Bruce is bored out of his mind until one of Victor’s youngest enforcers, Jonathan Crane, comes over and starts talking to him and gives him some water. Bruce is thrilled as someone is not talking to him like he’s an idiot for a change.

Of course, Theo has to go and ruin it by insulting the pair, who demand monetary recompense. When he refuses, Victor says he’ll be taking Theo’s ‘Boy Toy’ until he pays up. Bruce naturally books it and when some guards try to stop him, he shows that he may be seen as dumb by everyone else, but he stills knows a few things from the fights he got into as well as the training he got from an old friend of his father’s Reggie (he needed someone, OK? And I liked how Reggie tried to teach him to fight dirty). He gets away and is almost out of the building when he sees flashes of teal and ginger, and is soon held by two more of Victor’s henchmen, Jerome and Jeremiah Valeska. They soon chloroform Bruce and get him out to the car.

When Bruce wakes up, he’s in a nice house; in Germany. Bruce tries to escape, only for a sudden feeling of lethargy to overtake him. This goes on for five minutes, then goes away, only for it to come back. He also manages to notice a sensor on his leg; slimmer than the ones used by police, thankfully, but Bruce knows his every step will be monitored. This goes on until Victor’s butler, Alfred, arrives and tells him that Master Victor wishes to have breakfast with him. Bruce agrees to go with him, and is officially introduced to Victor ‘Mr. Freeze’ Fries, along with his top enforcers; Jonathan, Jerome, Jeremiah, and Jervis Tetch. Victor explains that Bruce is insurance so Galavan will pay up (not using Bruce’s money of course as Oswald’s lover and pet hacker Ed Nygma went into the system and locked Galavan out), and that Bruce woke up for a brief period on the plane ride over which they used to their advantage for Jervis to implant a hypnotic suggestion where, if Bruce tries to escape, he will feel intense exhaustion. But, even with the tracer, Bruce will have full run of the place, save for any locked doors, and there is a charming little town nearby if Bruce wants to explore, he just has to tell Victor and he’ll have someone escort him. Jonathan feels bad about the whole business and offers to stay with Bruce when he wants companionship, which is appreciated when Bruce does want to explore the town. Bruce, happy to finally have someone want to be his friend after so long, tells Jonathan everything; his loneliness, his feelings of inadequacy, even the fact Bruce is intersex as well as being genderfluid.

What Bruce doesn’t realize is that the five men are all in a relationship; Jerome and Jervis play Daddy to Jonathan and Jeremiah, and Victor is the Alpha Daddy, sometimes disciplining Jerome when he has to. But, when they saw Bruise with Galavan (including a poorly hidden shiner), they were immediately attracted and wanted him in their bed. Now, Jervis, Jerome, and Victor obviously could force the issue, but want to try seducing Bruce first, so the send Jonathan in to gain Bruce’s trust and find out the best way to seduce him.

When they find out about Bruce’s gender issues, unlike Theo, they start giving Jonathan little gifts to give to Bruce to find out what he likes and what he doesn’t; he seems to prefer lipgloss over lipstick, nice, subtle scent for perfume, nice dark colours for nail polish, even if he doesn’t wear it where others can see it. When he finds a dress in his closet, he can’t resist trying it on, only for Jervis to find him with it on. Bruce is initially horrified, but Jervis manages to calm him down as he explains he had a very nice tea party set up but everyone else was busy *outside* the house, so Jervis wanted to see if Bruce wanted to join him; he can even wear the dress.

Bruce later finds out, sadly, that the reason Theo has been taking so long in getting the money, is that he was poisoned not long after the meeting, killed in a freak accident from ‘falling’ out a window. He is shocked to hear that Kathryn Monroe is dead as well. He fights the compulsion and goes to leave, going so far as to hurt his leg to get the tracer off. However, the men realize what Bruce is doing and try to persuade him to stay, though Jerome makes the mistake of calling Bruce ‘Princess’, which leads Bruce to realize that Jonathan was playing informant on him. When Bruce still tries to leave, Victor has Bruce pinned to the bed and tied down, telling the other four to ‘help’ Bruce understand why he won’t be leaving and to help their ‘Baby Girl’ understand her place with her new ‘Big Brothers’ and his new ‘Daddies’. Bruce is then taught the human equivalent of ‘System Overload’. When Bruce still tries to refuse the arrangement, Victor just promises Bruce that he’s a very patient Daddy, one who will wait as long as necessary for Bruce to realize they belong there, and will, along with Bruce’s other new Daddies and Brothers, show Bruce how much they all love him every. single. day.

Personal Note: Persephone, the lack of messaging makes me sad too; we have no privacy! All of our ideas and thoughts out in the open where anyone can see and mock them! Honestly, I feel like there’s a parallel here between us and Oswald wanting to do the nasty with Jim at the Policeman’s Gala but can’t find a dark spot to do anything more than hold hands.

[ask-villain-izuku-midoriya]

Talking about abuse and toxic families

Ace again. Kinda wanna talk about something.

A lot of people are convinced that I was lying about my family. About how bad it was there.

At first, I just thought of our relationship as unhealthy. But some people made me realize it was beyond that.

It was abusive. Physically, verbally and mentally.

Remember when I stated before that someone close to me broke my glasses and tried to kill me? That was my mom. She also lied about it to my dad, saying that I tried to attack her, and naturally he believed her.

My dad also made an attempt on my life once. I got in trouble for watching TV while wiping down the table. I still remember it all. It was on a Thursday night, and American Idol was on. It was near the finals, and Casey James’s cover of Mrs. Robinson was playing. I was 9 at the time. My dad was laying on the couch when my mom told him, and he called me over. He asked me why, and I got scared. I was stammering and shaking, and then he got up.

I remember him standing in front of me for a good 5 seconds, and it made me realize how small I was to him.

Then he grabbed me by the neck.

He picked me up and yelled, “ANSWER THE GOD DAMN QUESTION! WHY?!”

I don’t think I had ever been so scared in my life. I genuinely thought he was going to kill me.

I guess he realized that what he did was wrong(that or he realized that, y’know, when you got your hands around someone’s neck, they can’t really answer you), because he set me down and told me to go to my room(which I’m gonna talk about in a minute).

My mom came in after me, and told me to go brush my teeth, “because she sure as hell wasn’t gonna pay a dentist to do it.(also gonna talk about in a minute)”

Afterwards, she got her turn of yelling at me and wrestling me and making me feel like shit. She left for about 20 minutes, probably so that she could calm down a bit and put on a sugary sweet facade and apologize.

I forgave her. Stupid me. Only hurt me worse.

But my dad never apologized.

They’re mostly faded but I have scars on my back from when they spanked me. They experimented with everything: wooden spoons, plastic spatulas, belts, sandals, books, even a plastic hairbrush of mine.

My mom also punished me by pouring things down my throat. Tabasco sauce, Dawn soap, vinegar, you name it. I remember one time I said a bad word and my mom made my siblings pour vinegar in my mouth. I was standing there, sobbing and drooling like a rabid fucking dog, while she lounged in the pool and watched. To this day, if I even smell Dawn soap or Tabasco sauce, I start gagging. I have to have my coworkers make the hot wings at work, because I can’t fucking stand it.

One time we had this bulldog named Hercules, who was really aggressive. He attacked one of our other dogs and I tried to break up the fight. I ended up with a chunk of my arm missing, and after the incident, my mom blamed me, saying that I was stupid enough to try and break them up that it was my fault. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, and that just kinda crushed me.

By 11 I was having...thoughts. Thoughts of, would they be happier people if I just didn’t exist? I felt like I was just an ant to everyone. Nobody would be hurt or be sad if I left.

The sad part was, it wasn’t just my parents. It was my siblings too.

Things got worse as I got older. One time my mom poured Dawn soap in my mouth, and then got in my face and screamed at me. I tried to talk, but my mouth was full of soap and it got in her eye. She punched me hard, so hard that I fell over. Later I looked in the mirror and saw blood running from my nose to my collarbone.

Others have witnessed the actual abuse happening. My grandma(her mom), my grandpa(my dad’s dad), my brother’s dive coach, my sister’s boyfriend/family friend, my brother’s friends, everyone.

One time my sister was mad at me when we went to the grocery, and sent me to get some ginger root. The ginger root was massive, so I tried to pick the smallest one. When I came back, she was pissed off that the one I grabbed was still pretty big. I tried explaining to her that they were all big, she threatened to punch the shit out of me, and that she didn’t care if she got arrested for it. The bagger saw it all, and asked me if I was okay.

It’s a sign that things are not okay when you have to smile through the tears and lie through your teeth.

My room was literally a walk-in closet. There was no built-in AC so often I would have to sleep in a 104 degree room. If I even TRIED using the bathroom or getting water, I would get in trouble, causing me to develop UTIs.

I only went to the doctor once every couple of years. They were just for check-ups. That was it. One time I had a bad stomach flu, it was probably the sickest I had ever been, and I begged, PLEADED for them to take me to the doctor. And they just said that I ate too much pizza. They didn’t believe it was a stomach bug until everyone else caught it.

Basically I was the joke in the family. Everyone was so successful, and I just felt like they were comparing me to them and rubbing it in my face. After I failed out, whenever the topic of my siblings’ success came up, my mom would scoff and say, “Well, I got the first three right, dunno about the last.” Every time she said that, it hurt so much.

One time my brother told me nobody in the household loved me, just that they were forced to love me because I was family. It’s been years since he told me that, and it still hasn’t gone away.

By 15 the thoughts escalated into voices. Voices that echoed everything they said about me. They still haunt me to this day. By then I needed glasses and nobody believed me, and I felt like I was abandoned.

At sixteen I was having suicidal thoughts. I had lived out part of my life and it wasn’t enough. Nobody loved me, nobody cared for me. Living was pointless. Classmates saw what was happening but when CPS came, all they saw was the pool, the nice cars, the TV and video game setup(which I was never allowed to touch because I was always in trouble with them), all of that. They didn’t see how I procrastinated on going home. They didn’t see the scars my mom had left on my skin. They didn’t see that my anxiety had developed into a skin picking disorder, and that I had torn up my skin because of how bad it was.

I wasn’t allowed to have friends over, or go over to a friend’s house. If my classmates gave me a ride, my mom would fucking explode. I wasn’t allowed a phone. In junior year my mom saw that I was listening to YouTube while writing an essay at school and locked me out of my school email. That was part of why I failed. Didn’t have access to my own homework.

I felt alone. My mom told me that I didn’t have friends at school, that the people I called “friends” were younger kids, and they only were my friends because nobody in my grade liked me or wanted to be around me. My siblings said that nobody would want to date my ugly fat ass.

With both of my jobs, she wouldn’t let me go to work unless I finished all of my chores. Sometimes she would make do really hard stuff, like mowing the grass, so that by the time I would get to work, I was drained. Plus, they made sure I didn’t touch my paychecks.

I spent $85 on a present for my mom on Valentine’s day, and I never got a thank you, further proving that I was unappreciated there.

I’ve tried so many things to keep my family happy, sometimes going a day without food because I didn’t want to eat something of theirs and upset them. I have bought them gifts, I have tried having fun conversations, I have gotten them food, I have done almost everything.

But it was never enough. I’d just feel so cold and empty inside.

I could keep going on about what all they did to me. But the moral of the story is: don’t stick around for somebody who’s gonna treat you like shit. Because all they’re gonna do is take advantage and hurt you even more.

[knives-out20]

The One With All The Relationships And Surprisingly Good Advice - Chandler Bing x Male!Reader - FRIENDS

Fandom: FRIENDS (1994-2004)

Pairing: Chandler Bing x Male!Reader

Warnings: This Shit Is LONG, Spoilers For Season 3 Episode 19, Fluff,

Notes: This Shit Took All Day To Make, Oh My God. It’s Long Since It’s Literally Every Chandler Scene In That Episode Except For One. But, Uh, Obviously, Enjoy!

"Hello, people who do not live here.”

Phoebe, Ross, Chandler and you turned to the front door of Monica's apartment, to see her standing there, eyebrows raised. “Hi" Phoebe and Ross greeted in unison, Chandler saying "hel-lo" and you merely waved.

"I gave you a key for emergencies" she reminded, hanging up her bag.

"We were out of Doritos" Phoebe told, Chandler and you looking back at the book he was reading, as you shifted on the arm of the sofa he sat in.

"Hey, how'd the date with Mr. Millionaire go?" Ross asked, watching Monica take off her coat.

"'Mr. Millionaire, new from Snooty Playthings'" Chandler teased, altering the pitch of his voice to sound like an infomerical announcer." “Third wife sold separately" he raised his eyebrows, then nodding proudly.

You snickered, lightly pushing his shoulder and looking back to Monica."Seriously, how was it?" You asked.

Monica groaned, walking over. “He's great! I mean, we have such a good time together. He's so funny, and so sweet, and I'm not attracted to him at all!" She exclaimed.

"Still?" Ross then asked.

"No! It's driving me crazy. I mean, in every other way, he's like the perfect guy. He has everything. Plus, he actually has everything.”

Chandler leaned back in his seat, book closed and on his chest. “Life-sized imperial storm troopers from sharper image?" He suggested, head tilted slightly.

"Two." Monica smiled, holding up two fingers.

"Wow." Chandler sat up again, amazed. “Can Joey and I put them on and fight?"

"Why can't I put it on and we fight?" You pouted, turning to Chandler.

"Because you know I'd never wanna hurt you. Joey's my best friend, and he's a real idiot sometimes" Chandler replied, looking up at with with his bright, pretty blue eyes. “Not like you'd ever try to hurt me, anyway.”

You pulled a sturgeon face, "yea, true." You turned back to Monica, ready to ask her another question. But, before you could, Joey came prancing in, singing something.

"Oh mommy, oh daddy, I am a big old baddy!" He cheered, circling the kitchen table."Oh mommy, oh daddy, I am a big old baddy!" Joey repeated, quickly out the door.

Chandler, confused out of his mind, blinked as he turned from Joey, to you, and over to Monica, expecting any reaction or explanation from the woman with the hand on her chest, who had an equal amount of shock on her face.

"I, whole-heartedly, never want to hear Joey say 'daddy' ever again" you stated, raising a finger.

"I guess he must have gotten the part in that play" Ross cleared up, earning an "Oh!" Of realization from Phoebe and you.

"Yea, either that or Gloria Estefan was right- eventually, the rhythm is going to get you" Chandler added, you nodding in agreement.

***

Joey, Phoebe, Monica, Chandler and you all sat around at Central Perk, with the Mr. Millionaire man that Monica recently went on a date with.

"So you're like a zillionaire" Phoebe commented, having you chuckle at that.

"And you're our age, your our age" Chandler squinted, one leg crossed over the other. He had an arm around you, gesturing with that hand as he tried wrapping his head around the fact that Monica's date is richer than rich, but also their age.

"You know what?" Phoebe asked, "you should, like, you should buy a state and then just name it after yourself.”

Monica's date, Pete, scoffed. “Like, Pete Dakota?" He suggested.

Phoebe and Monica laughed. “Yea, or- or Mississipete" Phoebe joked, letting it be Pete's turn to laugh.

"Oh, oh, I got it" Joey pointed at Pete, with an idea. “Pete Chicago.”

Chandler and you exchanged looks. “That's not a state, Joe" Chandler broke it to him, locking eyes with Joey.

"Oh, and Mississipete is?" Joey asked, scoffing.

Chandler, 100% done, turned over to you, looking at you badly concealing a laugh at the look of defeat on his face. “Y'know, (Y/n)'s quite the money man himself" he pointed out.

"Really? What do you do, uh, (Y/n)?" Pete asked, turning to you.

You sucked your teeth, rubbing the back of your neck. “Not myself necessarily, it's- it's my dad, he has this oil company, y'know, uh-”

"Oh, oh, (L/n) North?" Peter asked, you nodding in amazement. “Pretty popular company." After a beat of silence, he announced "I gotta go, so, uh, I'll see you guys later." getting up and out of his seat, going over to the door to grab his coat.

"You're our age!" Chandler repeated, watching Monica follow him.

"So, uh, we still on for tomorrow night?" Pete asked, grabbing his coat and turning to Monica.

"Absolutely" Monica answered, leaving them in tense silence. Until, that is, Monica, out of fear, ruffled his hair and said "now, get out of here, you!" With Joey's, Chandler's, Phoebe's, and your eyes on her. When Pete left, Monica came back over, putting her hands on the arm of the sofa Chandler, Phoebe and you sat on. “Okay, I'm running out of places I can touch him" she forced a smile onto her face. “I mean, is there something wrong with me? I mean, why am I only attracted to guys where there's no future? E-Either they're too old, or they're too young, and then there's Pete, who's- who's...crazy about me, I mean, he's absolutely perfect, and then there's like, zip going on. I mean, seriously, does it sound like there's something wrong with me?" Monica stressed, eyes wide with fear.

"Yea, kinda" Phoebe replied, nodding slightly.

You leaned back, laying on Chandler's chest, who automatically wrapped his arms around you. “Maybe it's because you're rushing into literally every guy you meet, you're trying to make something happen, out of fear. Just go with the flow for a while. I mean, I didn't immediately try to date Chandler when I first met him. I saw he was cute, got to know him, fell for him, 'n' look at us. Perfect stuff takes time, Monnie, c'mon.”

Chandler looked down at you. “You said you didn't think I was cute when we first met".

"Yea, well, I also told you I'm a sucker for floppy hair. You had floppy hair. I thought you'd have put the pieces together by now" you mumbled, smiling up at him.

***

Ross, Chandler, and you were in Chandler's apartment, now. Ross stood glued to the door, looking through the peephole as Chandler and you lay stomach-down on the recliners, holding hands and watching a basketball game on TV.

"Ross, you've got to stop, okay?" Chandler called, making no effort to actually turn and look at him."You can’t just stare through the peephole for three hours!".

"You're gonna get peep-eye!" You added, proud when you heard Chandler giggle and praise you with "nice one, babe.”

"I knew it, I knew it, I always knew she liked him" Ross started. “She'd say no, but here we are, right?" He asked, watching Chandler and you spin around in your seats to face him, "we just broke up first thing she does-"

"You didn't just break up-" Chandler corrected, Ross butting in again.

"Hey, it's been like, three weeks.”

"You slept with somebody three hours after you thought you broke up!" Chandler reminded, gesturing a hand over at him and getting up. “I mean, bullets have left guns slower" he added, helping you up.

Ross shushed him, whispering "here they come, here they come. Oh, if she kisses him goodnight I'm gonna kill myself, I swear. I can't, I can't watch this-" he told, turning to shake his head at Chandler and you, but immediately going back to look through the peephole.

Chandler put his hands on his hips, watching Ross in a disapproving manner as you looped your arms around one of his, holding onto him.

"Come on, date over, date over" Ross silently chanted. “Oh, oh, here we go, she's going in, she's going in-" he giggled, Chandler replying "okay", glad that this would be over. But then Ross' tone changed. “Wait-" he pressed both hands against the door, "he's going in.”

Chandler raised his eyebrows, lowering them as he scoffed and glanced at you.

"He's going in!" Ross repeated, "the door's closed!" He explained, turning to face Chandler and you. “I can't see anything with the door closed!" Ross whined, walking away from Chandler's door.

"And the inventor of the door rests happily in grave" you remarked, earning a quick smile of amusement from Chandler as you both turned around to look at Ross.

"Okay, I have to do something, I mean, I have to- I have to stop it" Ross groaned.

"Stop what?" You asked.

"I don't know! But the- I- I have a feeling that my being there will do it" Ross stuttered."I'll go over, and I'll borrow something...Juice! I need juice!" He declared, going to walk past Chandler, who grabbed him and yelled "no, you can't!"

Chandler pushed you out the way, jumping onto Ross' back as another way of stopping him.

"Look, they must be stopped!" Ross exclaimed, trudging past the fooseball table.

"I am your friend, and I am not gonna let you do this!" Chandler then proclaimed, grabbing onto the table, which he ended up pulling with him as Ross got to the door. “You are surprisingly strong" he looked confused as he said this, almost scared of how strong Ross was. “(Y/n), c'mon, help me, baby!"

You held onto the kitchen counter to stop from falling to the floor from laughing, shaking your head. “Oh, no, no, no, Channy, this is TOO funny!" You cackled as Chandler growled at you, still on Ross' back.

"I need juice" Ross weakly repeated as you calmed down, stepping forward. “People need juice!"

"Look, man..." You started, as Ross repeated what he said while Chandler struggled to finally close the door. “Listen to me!" You called, Chandler's legs walking backwards up the door.

"Juice! They need juice!" Ross cried, one of his own legs on the door, now.

You crossed your arms, watching in bewilderment. “This is so fucking weird to look at" you raised your eyebrows as the two men paused. “Can I please have my boyfriend back- y'know what-" you groaned, pulling Chandler off of Ross and held onto him, keeping your boyfriend close with your arms around his waist. You kissed Chandler's cheek, one of his hands flat on your chest, the other on your shoulder as he looked at Ross like the elder Geller sibling was a madman. “She's moving on, okay? If it's not this guy, it's gonna be somebody else! And unless you're thinking about subletting Chandler's peephole, you are gonna have to get used to the fact that the relationship is over" you explained, banging the counter a 'get used to'. “Okay, man? It's over.” You and Chandler stood in silence, both of you now ready to pounce back onto Ross in case he made a sudden run for it.

Ross sighed. “Yea, okay" he succumbed, "it's just, I miss her so much.”

"I know" you nodded, quickly patting his head.

"You're surprisingly...good at whatever that just was" Chandler mumbled.

"I've had to tell myself similar things in the past, Channy. I'm a natural at this point" you muttered rubbing his side soothingly, kissing his cheek again.

***

Chandler and you sat in his recliners, wearing his loose bath robes over plain shirts. You both faced the TV, then spun the recliners to face each other.

"I don't think this town is big enough for the both of us to relax in" he pointed out, as if the two of you were cowboys about to showdown in some Western movie. He awkwardly raised his fist to his face, lightly blowing it while maintaining eye contact with you. Chandler blinked and rolled his shoulders back then announcing "draw!"

At the same time, you both kicked up the feet of your recliners like cowboys would bring out their guns about now. Chandler and you started to laugh, nodding proudly and heads darting to look towards the door when Joey walked in, slamming it shut behind him.

"We weren't doing anything" Chandler blurted out, eyes wide.

Joeys slammed his bag down on the fooseball table, following his roughly-taken-off coat.

Chandler raised his eyebrows as he got up, offering a hand to help you up as well. “Uh-oh, what did she do now?" He shakily asked.

"Just because she went to Yale drama she thinks she's, like, the greatest actress since..." Joey opened the fridge, "since- since sliced bread" he finished, grabbing a bottle of beer and closing the fridge door.

"Ah, sliced bread" Chandler nodded knowingly.

"A wonderful Lady Macbeth" you nodded along, Chandler and you then giggling and nudging each other.

"God, I just- I hate her. I hate her, with her 'oh, I'm so talented' and 'ooh, I'm so pretty' and 'ooh, I smell so good'" Joey complained, mocking the girl in a weird voice, getting higher with each statement.

Chandler and you shared knowing looks with one another, then turning back to Joey. “I think somebody has a crush on somebody" Chandler teased, a hand on the counter.

"Hey, Chandler, can we please try and stay focused on my problem, here, y’know? Also, no shit you have a crush on (Y/n), you're dating, for crying out loud" Joey groaned, gesturing to himself.

You leaned onto the counter with one hand, your other on your hip. “He’s talking about you, you big, big freak" you insulted, looking at Joey with disbelief.

"Oh." Joey shifted on the spot, looking the both of you up and down in judgement. “Oh- oh, you're out of your mind" he cringed, walking past the two of you.

"Hey, you have done nothing but talk about her for the last forty-eight hours" Chandler followed Joey close behind, stopping at the wooden shelf Joey made once Joey walked into his room. “If you were in a schoolyard, you'd be pulling her pigtails and pushing her down now!"

"Because society has you at a young age that if you're mean to a girl, it means you like her" you added, tilting your head up intelligently. You approached Chandler, who instinctively wrapped an arm around you.

"Oh, yea?" Joey asked, now at the doorway of his room. “Then how come I keep thinking about her in all these sexual scenarios and stuff, huh?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as he pointed at Chandler, like what he said was just the smartest comeback in the world.

When, in reality, it made all three of you furrow your eyebrows in a mix of confusion and disgust.

"Maybe because what you feel is only sexual attraction towards her-?" You suggested, Chandler nodding and mumbling "okay-" to end the conversation.

***

Chandler lay on his back on the long couch of Monica's apartment, half-asleep with you fast asleep on his chest, the book he was reading now over your head like a hat.

"Hey," Phoebe called, instantly waking Chandler up. 

He blinked wildly and looked around at where he was, then down at you. Slowly, Chandler picked up the book and set it on the table, using a finger to fix your hair and brush it out of your face. He smiled lovingly, hugging you like a body pillow, or like his arms was your blanket. Chandler gave Phoebe a shaken double-take.

"Why isn't it Spiderman?" She asked. “You know? Like Goldman, Silverman?"

Chandler cautiously adjusted how he lay on the sofa, careful not to wake you up, but to no avail. He pursed his lips, looking down at you apologetically as you groggily opened your eyes. “Ah, sorry, baby, I wasn't trying to wake you up-"

"'S okay, what's up?" You groaned, squinting over at Chandler with a sleepy smile on your face.

"Uh- Uh," Chandler cleared his throat, momentarily rendered speechless whenever you had that sleepy grin on your face. “Phoebe just asked me 'why isn't is Spiderman'. Like Goldman, or Silverman" he repeated. “Anyways, Phoebe, because it isn't- it's not his last name" Chandler answered, turning to Phoebe with furrowed eyebrows.

"It isn't?" Phoebe looked genuinely surprised.

"No. It's not like...Phil Spiderman" he shook his head.

"Yea, if that was the case, it would be 'Chandler Perfectman', not 'Bing'" you sleepily added, Chandler's cheeks flushing.

"He's a spider...man" Chandler explained, ignoring the heat in his face. “You know? Like, uh, like Goldman is a last name, but there is no gold man.”

"Sometimes, last names derive from what your ancestors were. Goldman and Silverman probably mean your ancestors were gold or silver miners, or silversmiths. Spiderman, if this is the case, would mean your ancestors fucked spiders or something" you noted, lazily raising a finger but quickly dropping it.

"Oh, oh, okay" Phoebe nodded, as if she just learned the true, real meaning of life. “There should be a gold-man!" She told, eyes going wide in realization.

Chandler nodded and raised his eyebrows, turning back down to you quickly.

"Hey." Rachel greeted, walking in and closing the door behind her

"Hey, Rachel." Monica smiled.

"Yo, Monica's here?" You asked, lifting your head up and turning towards the kitchen. “Hi, Monica!" You tiredly waved, not catching Chandler gazing at you in adoration.

"Hi, Chandler's boyfriend" Monica teased, waving back. “How was work?" She asked Rachel, turning back over to her.

"Oh, great. Although, I did sit down where there wasn't a chair" Rachel replied, hanging up her bag and walking over.

"By the way, Ross dropped by a box of your stuff" Monica reminded, turning to quickly point at a white box on the table.

"Oh, well, I guess I had that one coming" Rachel sighed, walking into the living room and around the small table. “I'm just gonna throw it out, it's probably just a bunch of shampoo, and-" she stopped talking when she opened the box, finally seeing whatever was inside.

Confused, Monica, Chandler, Phoebe and you all looked over at her, after you quickly reached up to kiss Chandler's neck.

"Something wrong?" Monica asked.

Rachel didn't answer, silently reaching into the box and pulling out a singular, white shirt, which you were just about able to read 'FRANKIE SAYS' on it, not being able to read the last word. Rachel took a deep breath as she stared at it, her hair hiding her smile as he flipped it to read the words on the front. She chuckled blankly, "no, nothing." Rachel turned and walked into her room without saying another word.

You were still confused, so you looked up at Chandler. “Who's Frankie?"

Chandler pursed his lips and dramatically shrugged, mumbling "I don't know.”

***

Chandler and Phoebe sat on the recliners in his apartment, you sitting securely on his lap as Phoebe sat cross-legged and rocked back and fourth in her recliner like a child. “So, uh, what kind of powers would Gold-man have?" Chandler asked, smiling like an excited kid.

"Okay, well, he would turn things to gold" she stated in a straight-forward manner.

"Ooh, ooh, like King Medias from Greek Mythology!" You recalled, fists balling out of joy. You saw the look on Chandler's faced and decided to clear up his confusion by saying "I sorta had a small Greek mythology phase, growing up.”

Chandler nodded, looking back to Phoebe. “What about things that are already gold?" He challenged, eyebrows raising expectantly.

"Ah, his work is done" is all Phoebe returned.Chandler smiled and nodded, adjusting how he sat as he said "okay, let's play my game now.”

"Okay" Phoebe agreed, uncrossing her legs to sit on the chair properly. “Arr, you yellow-bellied, lily-livered...draw!" She called, Chandler and her both pulling up the feet of the recliners.

You giggled as you bounced when Chandler pulled his feet up, your boyfriend sitting up to wrap his arms around you.

[scullysexual]

*Prompt request for AU where Mulder gets Scully pregnant in high school and they are “forced” to marry but fall in love.*

I think this might just be my favourite part so far. It does jump around in terms of timeline and stuff but hopefully it doesn’t get confusing. Warning for Teen Pregnancy. @today-in-fic

A Baby Is Forever: Part Three.

Part One.

Part Two.

- - -

It's done. She's married. The paper is signed, no objections, one last question of if she’s been coerced. She hasn’t. Legally, she’s Dana Mulder.

 .:.:.:.:.:.

“So we’re married now,” Mulder says.

They sit on a bench outside the registry office. Mulder hunched over and rooting through a bag of sunflower seeds.

“Yeah,” says Dana.

She expected to feel different but she didn’t. She had been nervous all morning, unsure of why. It was the first time she’d felt regret over the whole thing. She would never get a real wedding, never be able to have a relationship with anyone else.

Dana had been quiet whilst Melissa had done her hair. Her sister had insisted that since Dana was never going to have a real wedding, she deserved to still look pretty for this one.

The time it look Missy to do Dana’s hair, Dana hadn’t said a word. Only when the last strands of hair were ready to be straightened did Missy ask what was wrong.

Dana told her, focusing upon feeling like she hadn’t been given a choice. They just assumed she was okay with it and that was that.

This train of thought had come after she had been asked if she’d been coerced the first time around. After a bit of hesitation, and a glance towards her father who had stared at her expectantly, Dana had said no.

She wasn’t so sure anymore and that had been what she told Missy.

Her sister had calmed her fears. Told her that it was just a piece of paper, a way to protect Dana and her baby. Nobody expected them to act married.

It had helped. It got her through the rest of the day.

Now she regards her husband.

“You know Mulder,” she starts and Mulder looks towards her. “You can date other people. I’m not gonna stop you.”

He seems surprised, almost like he wasn’t expecting her to stay that or intending to. She’s taken back a bit by it. She got him into this mess, got him caught up in this whole marriage thing, it’s only right his freedom shouldn’t be taken away.

“Thanks, I guess,” he says a little unsure.

Dana smiles sadly. “I’m sorry,” she apologises. “I’m sorry I got you caught up in this.”

But Mulder is shaking his head. “I helped make that baby too, right?” Dana nods out of reflex. “Then you don’t need to apologise. I meant what I said in the hospital.”

His promise to be there all through it and afterwards.

It was a nice thought but that was now. What about when it’s 3am and the baby is crying because it’s diaper needs changing. Or when it’s crying and they can’t figure out why. Will he still be there then?

Mulder stands, tucking the sunflower seeds into his pocket.

“The same goes for you too…Dana,” her first name is a surprise. “You can date anyone you want to.”

Unlikely, she thinks. Nobody is going to want someone who already has a baby with another person but the thought is appreciated all the same.

Instead she says, “Scully. You don’t need to start calling me Dana just because we’re married.”

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.

Maybe he has been counting down the days. Mentally. He wants to see his baby. Today is that day.

Mulder is more confident in this room now. Mrs Scully chooses to wait outside leaving the chair vacant but Mulder chooses to stand next to Scully again, grabbing hold of her hand.

It’s the only time they ever hold hands. At school, they talk more, sometimes eat lunch together. Through the hallways, he becomes a sort of bodyguard, guiding her through, pulling her back if someone so much as touches her. She has a little bump now, something he’s sure he spent the whole day staring at when he noticed (other’s stare too but Mulder gives them a stare of his own and they back off) Perhaps he’s a little worried that somebody might knock into her, that something will happen to the baby and Mulder will not let that happen.

They never hold hands outside of this room, outside these appointments.

His affection for Scully has grown, he wishes he could see her more than at lunch time and appointments. He wants to spend every second of the day with her. He tried to go round to the Scully’s house one time but Captain Scully told him he couldn’t come in, Dana was resting and Mulder had gone home disappointed.

He got the impression that Captain Scully didn’t like him much. He supposes he can’t blame him, he did get his teenaged daughter pregnant after all.

He holds onto her hand tight, rubbing circles on the inside of her palm with his thumb.

“We get to see the baby today, don’t we?” Mulder says, unable to contain his excitement.

The doctor sees it, too. With a smiles she says, “Yes, Fox. You also get your picture.”

Grinning, he looks at Scully who just rolls her eyes.

The machine is set up, the gel is applied, and Mulder stares with anticipation at the screen. This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

His mouth drops open when the baby- their actual baby- appears on the screen. He’s there. Actually, really there.

Eyes glued to the screen, he brings Scully’s hand to his chest, traps it between both his hands and says.

“That’s our baby, Scully.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He’s full of amazement.

“Would you like to know the gender?” the doctor asks.

Mulder breaks his gaze from the screen to look at Scully. They had joked about this- Mulder’s insistence of believing it was a he, Scully’s insistence on believing it was a she. It was a running joke between them and Mulder wasn’t ready to break that by finding out.

But if Scully wanted to…

He looks down at her, asking.

But Scully shakes her head. “We want to wait.”

We.

He gets his photo.

His photo. His photo of his baby.

“He looks like an alien,” Mulder says on the way back home. He hadn’t put the photo away since receiving it.

“That’s mean,” rebukes Scully. “She doesn’t look like an alien.”

“He does,” Mulder presses, staring down at the photo. “My alien baby.” He looks to Scully then, a big smile on his face. “And you can be my alien baby-baby mama.”

She isn’t impressed.

When he gets home, he sticks the photo on the wall by his bed and lays down, continuing to stare at it.

A rush runs through him at the sight. He’s excited. It was real. In 27 weeks he was about to be a father.

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

They have their first phone call at 7:06 pm on a Thursday. Bill Jr answers and after unceremoniously shouting, “Dana, phone!” she hears Mulder’s voice.

“Must be fun living with him,” he says.

“He’s not always this bad. He’s just grumpy. He doesn’t want the baby waking him up at night.”

Her sibling’s reactions to Dana being pregnant had been mixed: Charlie liked the idea of being an uncle, Missy was excited- ready to be the best aunty a baby could ever have. Bill had a sour look on his face, telling Dana she was too young to have a baby and asking if Mulder was going to bother or would it just be down to her and them?

Missy had been the one to jump in and defend Mulder, telling Bill that “of course he would be”, whilst Dana just picked at her food.

“Did you know babies can be born with teeth?” Mulder says down the line.

Caught up in her thoughts, the only reply Dana can give him is.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Mulder says, mistaking her confusion or unknowing. “The doctors take them out so they don’t choke and they’re loose anyway.”

Dana did know that, in fact, but she doesn’t tell Mulder, instead she allows him to continue on.

“And did you know that babies cry even in the womb?” That she didn’t know. “So little Mulder Jr could be crying right now and we wouldn’t even know it.” She doubts it but her hand falls to her stomach anyway. She’s been doing that a lot, lately, mostly to try and feel the kicks and punches. So far there’s been nothing.

“How do you know all this, Mulder?” she asks.

“I bought a book.”

Of course he has.

“Well, I’ve bought lots of books, actually. Some we already had but I wanted to know. I don’t know anything, Scully, and I feel like I should.”

It’s heart-warming to hear how much he cares, to hear the excitement in his voice as he rattles off this fact and that. She’s glad that if anyone had to be the father of her child, it was someone as special and caring as Fox Mulder.

They don’t talk for long. Twenty minutes because she eats dinner at 7:30 and needs to go but before she does, Mulder tells her one last thing, almost sound shy and unsure.

“Igotdabebesumthin…”

She doesn’t quite catch it. “What?”

A bit louder now. “I got the baby something.”

“Mulder, you don’t have any money,” she tells him gently but is smiling all the same.

“I get money off the magazine!”

“What, 50 cents for every copy and you don’t sell that many to begin with,” she teases.

“It’s nothing big,” he says. “I just saw it when I was out.”

Stopping the jokes, she asks. “Okay, what is it?”

“It’s a duck,” he says. Through the phone, it sounds like he’s fumbling with something. “It’s yellow with a blue bowtie and it squeaks.” A bit more fumbling with the phone and his voice is replaced by a squeak. “See?” he says, his voice back.

Her heart melts and tears begin to prick in her eyes.

“Mulder, it’s…” she sniffles.

“Are you crying?”

She wipes at her eyes, embarrassed. “No, it’s just the hormones.” At least that’s what she can blame it on. “Mulder, it’s…it’s a really nice thought-“

“It’s too much.” She hears the doubt, the sadness in her voice and has an instant need for it to be gone, for his happiness and excitement to return.

“No, no,” she starts to say. “No, really, it is a really nice thought. Keep it. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“Really?” The joy is back.

“Really,” she confirms. She catches her mother’s eye in the kitchen and looks to the clock. “Mulder, I have to go. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“You’ll see me tomorrow.”

That’s right. School.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 A knock on his front door comes precisely at 8:00pm.

Mulder grabs the card off the sideboard and takes in a breath before opening the door.

“Happy birthday!” Mulder cries as Scully stands in front of him. He holds the card out to her and invites her in.

“Thank you,” she says, stepping in.

Mulder closes the door as she rips the envelope open.

It’s a simple card he chose; one with two bears on it- one of the bears placing a party hat on the other surrounded by a table of food and balloons. Mulder thought it was cute.

She opens it up and begins reading out loud.

“To my Alien Baby-Baby Mama.” He shrugs sheepishly at the look she throws him.

“Happy Birthday! But you know what that means? Only seventeen more weeks to go before our alien is born. Love Mulder.”

She’s smiling as she closes the card and it sends jolts of happiness through him to know that he- and his card- put that smile on your face.

“You’re counting?” she asks.

Mulder shrugs, “Maybe.”

She tucks the card back into its envelope, still smiling.

“Thank you,” she says again. “But you really need to stop referring to the baby as an alien.”

“Why?” Mulder asks, leading them towards the basement door. “Can he hear me?”

“You’re the one with all the books, you tell me.”

The books are down in the basement with him. Stacked near the wall, he’s found- or bought- loads of them.

“Gotta be prepared,” he says.

Mulder sits down on the couch- the same couch that their alien baby was conceived upon, something he thinks of all the time and has him smiling.

He smiles fades, however, when he watches Scully struggle to sit down.

“Are you okay?” he asks, unsure.

Through her concentration, she manages to smile a yes.

“Sitting down and getting up have become kinda difficult.”

Right, yeah. Mulder had caught her struggling to stand up from her seat in school, how she waits for everyone to leave before the struggle begins.

She manages and gets herself settled into the cushions.

“I got you a present.” Mulder stands and heads towards the mini freeze and pantry shelf in the corner. He grabs the vanilla ice cream and pickles out of their respective places and walks back to her.

Her eyes light up when she sees them.

“Mulder, I love you!” she shouts, reaching to grab them out of her hands.

It’s just an expression, he tells himself and tries not to let his smile falter.

The pickle jar is opened and immediately the basement is overwhelmed with the sharp smell. It’s worth it if it means he gets to spend time with her.

“So what’s the occasion?” Scully asks when she’s knuckle deep into her ice cream with the pickle, another in her mouth. “Other than my birthday, of course.”

“Well, I won’t be seeing you in school anymore and that’s when I get to see you the most,” he tells her, placing the VSH into the player.

“Why can’t I pick the movie, it’s my birthday.”

“Because you always want to watch horror movies,” he answers, sitting back onto the couch.

“So?” she says. Then a smile is breaking out across her face. “You’re scared of them.”

“No, I’m not,” Mulder says, a bit too fast.

And Scully notices.

“Put one on, then.”

“No.”

“Because you’re scared.”

“Because I want to watch this.”

She falls silent and Mulder hopes that’s the end of their argument.

She grabs another pickle and is about to dunk it in before muttering.

“That’s because you are scared.”

It’s the final straw and he swipes the pickle jar from beside her. He gives her his due with how quick her reflexes are but he has height as an advance and holds it up high knowing it will be too much of a struggle for her to get it.

(Is it mean? Yes. Does he feel guilty for it? No.)

“Mulder,” she scolds. “Give me back my pickles.”

He shakes his head, stretching higher just in case. “Take back what you said.”

She pouts and it’s adorable. Mulder knows how stubborn she is, knows how hard it is for her to take things back once she’s said it, but her pickles are on the line here.

“Or…” she begins, looking at him through her eyelashes. Oh, she’s good. “You give me my pickles back and we pretend I never said anything.”

But not good enough.

He pretends to think. “Hmm…No.” She’s devastated. “You have to say it.”

She turns away from him, looking annoyed and defeated, trying another tactic.

“I want my pickles.”

“You know what you have to say.”

She zones in on him, frowning. “You should know that you shouldn’t stand in the way of a pregnant woman or her cravings. Especially on her birthday.”

Oh, he’s well aware. Smiling, he begins playing with her. Bringing his arm down just close enough that she should be able to reach over but at the last second holding them back up again.

She gets annoyed each time he does it and it’s adorable, her little huffs and puffs, and insults that come pouring out of her mouth. Death threats, too, he notices but still, Mulder doesn’t give the jar to her.

He does this about three times before she either forgets she’s pregnant, or is taking a risk, and tries to reach up and grab the jar.

As she does, something seems to happen as her concentration and annoyance fades to shock.

Worry rushes through his body and discarding the jar to somewhere beside him, he grabs her arms to steady to her.

“What is it?” he asks, fully concerned that something bad has happened.

She frees one of her arms and places a hand on her stomach. A smile replaces the shock, a big smile as she looks at him and Mulder looks from her face to her hand back to her face again, confused.

“She kicked,” she says, her voice full of amazement.

Mulder’s eyes fall to her stomach. He wants to feel it but aside from holding her hand in the hospital, and the hand on her back through school, this is the closest he’s come to touching her.

Touching her stomach just seems too intimate for her but he wants to.

“Can I…” he falters, unable to take his eyes away and swallows. “Can I feel?”

Scully nods, moving her hand and he places the hand not holding her arm anymore onto her stomach, pressing gently like the books told him to.

Minutes pass but another smile passes across Scully’s face as she says.

“There is it.”

And he feels it against his hand. He understands now why she was so amazed by it. It’s incredible. The movement between his hand. That’s his baby under there, moving.

It’s amazing.

“Scully,” she hums in response. “Can I…It is okay if I take you on a date? A real one?”

He has no idea what’s made him ask right at this moment but he’s been wanting to for a while now and whether it was the playfulness of the moment before, or this moment, Mulder has no idea.

She nods. “I’d like that,” she replies shyly.

Mulder smiles, his arm wrapping around her and bringing her closer to him. She adjusts the best she can and settles into his shoulder while he presses a kiss into her hair.

“Mulder,” she says after the only sound is from the TV.

“Hmm.”

“Can I have my pickles back now?”

Mulder laughs, reaching beside him and handing them to her.

Scully takes her reward, smiling triumphantly. She won.

[dreamaboutwhathappens]

the man was FILLED with easter eggs and metaphors. here they are!

1. being in the room where it happens

in the lyric video for the man, we see a woman working so hard to try and get to where all the men are -- on top, both physically and metaphorically. in the music video, we see The Man starting out here, just another normal day at the office. another normal day in charge, and on top.

2. “i’d be a fearless leader”

The Man not so much as walks into the room and makes a few comments before getting applause for his work. at the same time, every desk in this office can be seen with a mountain of papers, files, and books stacked on top of them. for all the hard work that these people are doing in this office, The Man gets all the applause for a fraction of it.

3. the subway

now, obviously what we have here is what you have on any and every subway or other form of local transportation -- that one asshole who feels entitled to take up as much space as he wants at the discomfort of everyone around him. while i could get into how mansplaining is a metaphor for men feeling the right to take up more space in society then women, i won’t. instead, i want to focus on all the little details on this subway that tell men they can. at the very, very top of the frame, we see text at the bottom of an ad that says “because you DESERVE what you want” and the posters on either side of The Man tell us “mother nature doesn’t stand a chance” and “capitalize on the feeling”. this is how society treats men. they should get to do whatever they want, based only on their feelings or wants. this notion will become important in the subway station.

shoutout to the girl in the miss americana hoodie! i think we can safely say she’s listening to lover on her headphones.

4. the newspaper

for this image, i turned the brightness WAYYY up so we could read the newspaper. the leading headline is “what man won the year in celebrity dating?” with the caption “who crushed it this year?” one headline says “years most eligible CEO’s” and another says “men in love in sports”. now, i don’t have to tell you that taylor swift was vilified for her relationships. these headlines show the difference between how men and women are treated when it comes to relationships. what’s it like to brag about getting bitches and models?

on the back cover, we see a contrast between how men and women are viewed in society. the ad dedicated towards men has a very strong and tough vibe to it, and the article beneath it carries the title “it’s men against boys with no ladies around.” in fact, the only mention we get of said “ladies” is in the “style section” where we see two sexy, rail thin women posing at fashion shows. while society views men for their strength, women are supposed to be objects of beauty and desire, and nothing more. 

5. here lies taylor swift’s reputation (and all her previous albums)

now, obviously, the sign says “missing, if found, please return to taylor swift” and grafitied on the walls are the names of the albums whose masters taylor does not own. remember when those ads on the subway told men that you DESERVE what you want? that’s what empowered The Men who stole taylor’s masters to take them. they wanted them, after all! let’s also remember that The Man is can be seen pissing on the wall in this shot. it’s a metaphor for The Men who own taylor’s old albums and are essentially pissing on all her hard work. we can also see “KARMA” written in big letters in the middle of all the albums, which invokes a lyric from look what you made me do: “all i think about is karma, and then the world moves on but one things for sure, maybe i got mine but you’ll all get yours”. pretty sure karma is coming for The Men who own taylor’s masters.

if you look closely, you can also see a sign to the left of The Man that says no scooters! sc*oter bra*n is not welcome at the 13th street station

6. “i’d be just like leo in st. tropez”

for your viewing pleasure, i have included an image of leo in st. tropez. we can see women in bikinis, and every sort of expensive, luxurious form of leisure you could think of. during the verse where we see The Man on the yacht, she sings “they’d say i hustled, put in the work, they wouldn’t shake their heads and question how much of this i deserve”. this is reminiscent of The Man when he was in the office and how, no matter how much work he did or didn’t do, he is heralded as a genius. the point of saying she’d be just like leo in st. tropez is not to try and call out leonardo dicaprio for going a cruise and having some fun. people should be entitled to celebrate and vacation however they please. the point is that women should be able to do the same thing.

7. The Man’s “walk of shame”

this is a metaphor for how men in society are treated when they take a misstep. while women can be criminalized and thrown the wolves, it appears that men always have people on their team, and in this case, hands lining up to be high-fived. men often are not held to the same standards as women, and even when they do something wrong, they face very little backlash for it, and normally have their own set of groupies or supporters telling them that they were really in the right (and they are allowed to believe it).

at the back of the hallway, there hangs a portrait of The Man pointing at the camera, as if to say “you ARE the man.” it feels like uncle sam, but in a “ i want YOU for us army whatever your heart desires” kind of way.

8. world’s greatest dad

the bar for men is so low that when they do the very minimum (in this case, merely look after their own child), they get commended for it. imagine if this were a woman. would she be applauded? no, she would probably be reprimanded for being on her phone and ignoring her child, like The Man did here.

9. bragging

this one is pretty self-explanatory. what’s it like to brag about raking in dollars and getting bitches and models? what’s it like when it’s all good if you’re bad and it’s okay if you’re mad? in this scene, we see The Man telling all his buddies about the bitches and models and dollars, and then freaking out on somebody. 

10. raking in dollars

who's on the 100 dollar bill? he is! the serial number on this bill also ends in 13. i thought there might be more hidden goodies here, but if there are, the video isn’t in high enough resolution to tell. the only other thing i can make out was that it said “for motion picture use only” which i thought would be an easter egg until i rendered it in photoshop and could read it clearly. oh well!

11. raising money for the women’s charity

a problem we see in society a lot is people of privilege being an ally only by action, not by everyday behavior. here, we see The Man benefitting a women’s charity, but all throughout the video we haven’t seen him go out of his way to respect or give a voice to women. even in this shot, a woman stands on the sidelines while The Man takes all the glory. while he raises money for women, he has no other character traits that show he actually cares about them. 

in a different shot of this scene, a water bottle from taylor’s merch can be seen on the sideline.

12. the unimpressed umpire

this is taylor’s dad! his name is scott. in a video full of mediocre men, scott is our resident Good Man :)

13. the freakout

in 2018, serena williams unleashed on an umpire who accused her of cheating and stuck her with her third penalty of the game -- penalties the whole crowd was certain she did not deserve. she even said at the time “To lose a game for saying that, it’s not fair. How many other men do things? There’s a lot of men out here who have said a lot of things. It’s because I am a woman, and that’s not right.” this is a DIRECT representation of this. it’s as they say, it’s all good if you’re bad, and it’s okay if you’re mad.

14. the hat

the hat our tennis attendant is seen wearing says “TS” in big letters, and in a circle around it, it says “i’d be a fearless leader, i’d be an alpha type.” taylor’s dad can also be seen wearing this hat.

15. the one where lover is NOT the happy couple’s first dance

first of all, this shit makes me SO uncomfortable. this is obviously an allusion to all the men who marry MUCH younger women, which is poignant because, again, taylor suffers mercilessly for her relationship choices, and they’re nowhere near as abhorrent as this. something also worth mentioning: scott borchetta is turning 58 this year. i’ll let you figure the rest out.

16. mr americana

any taylor swift fan will know that in january, taylor released a documentary with an intimate perspective on her life titled “miss americana” which focused a lot on the struggles taylor has overcome in her career. choosing miss americana to be a part of this video is a wise choice, because it highlights those same struggles that taylor is tackling in this music video. we can probably assume that mr americana faces significantly less struggles.

every part of this poster has been revamped to be man-centered, even down to the star role - tyler swift, not taylor.

17. take two

here, our director tells The Man that he needs to be sexier, and more likable. this reflects criticism that taylor and other women in the public eye hear almost daily. as i mentioned before, women in society are valued only as objects of beauty and desire, and here, we see the script flipped to bring that to light. 

in this final scene, we leave the fantasy world of the music video that The Man is starring in, and go to what appears to be a woman-dominated world, insinuating that the universe of the music video is one opposite to our own. this drives home the claim that if taylor were the man, she would be the man.

18. dwayne the rock johnson

i thought that having the rock voice The Man was really poignant. think about the rock’s career -- started out as a wrestler, is now an actor, but he’s known for his kindness and his dedication to social justice. if you asked me if he had ever been a part of any scandal, i would tell you no. and that’s exactly who The Man is. that’s exactly who this song is about, and that’s who taylor is. she has had an insanely successful career spanning over a decade, crossing into multiple different genres and fields, and excelling at all of it. she’s friendly, hard working, a social justice warrior, and a philanthropist. but all of those things are pushed aside in favor of the negative. using the rock as The Man was the perfect way of finishing off the statement,

“if i was a man, i’d be the man.”

[nehawriter16]

2020 / 24

There are only 2 things I can do on an airplane – dose up on sleeping meds and pass out, or order one too many cappuccinos, keep my exhausted brain awake, and will it to talk to paper. The flight from JFK was in the afternoon and in the chaos of leaving for the airport early in the morning, I forgot to pack my pills.

Two cappuccinos in, my hands were shaking and begging to be typing out the Mrs. Maisel speed monologue that constantly runs in my head. Even though there is a month left in this year, I decided to do my annual New Years Eve post. Over the last 3 days, I’ve been drilling it down to go from gibberish to slightly readable.

Here it is.

Like the rest of the world, in January, I was blissfully unaware of the shitstorm that would follow. I got into several colleges on the East Coast for a Master’s in Finance degree. Every day, I would race down the stairs with my laptop and show my parents: another admit, another scholarship! On the surface, I was making pro and con lists for each one. Deep down, my heart had already picked Fordham in New York. It was New York. Nothing else would cut it.

The day after I turned 24 in January, I also met my (now ex) boyfriend on the internet. Completely by accident, he saw my profile because a mutual friend followed my writing. Two days later, she texted me and said he would like to talk to me. Did I want to talk to some boy studying in Paris? I was single and bored and already had my year laid out for me, so why wouldn’t I?

It moved quickly. Three months later, we had been speaking every day and were exclusive. We had not hung out in person. It was stupid, but I had never come across anybody who liked me as much as he did. In every relationship I had been in before this, I always knew I was more emotionally involved. I fell in love with his devotion to me – he would stay home (who stays home in Paris!) and choose to spend virtual time with me over going to clubs with his friends. I watched myself become the epicenter of his life and thought – this is how much I’ve always wanted to mean to somebody.

In March when the pandemic hit and India shut down, my father sent a car to pick me up from my internship in Bombay, where I had moved two weeks ago. I didn’t pack so much as my toothbrush – the driver brought me home and I had no idea that it would be months before I’d get to leave again.

Morales stayed high in the beginning – we thought it would end in 21 days, then 2 months, then 5. It has taken over the whole year now, and despite us gridlocking it into “2020,” we all know the first half of 2021 will also be filled with masks and sanitizers and not hugging your friends. I wonder if I will ever settle into somebody’s arms without cringing again.

March melted into April, that melted into one long drawl until suddenly it was August and college was beginning the following week. I found myself refreshing the US consulate’s website absent mindedly one afternoon, and all appointments that had been suspended suddenly showed you a tiny little bar that read “reschedule.” I screamed and clicked.

I had thought I would be spending the year stuck at home, awake and attending classes at odd hours. While my classmates went to happy hours in dive bars in Manhattan, I would be in my bedroom, still chained to my parents’ curfews and ultimatums. But then suddenly, I was standing before a US immigration officer in Bombay, and he was telling me I had been granted my student visa.

All that was left to do was book a flight to New York, and break the news to my boyfriend, who was on his way to my abandoned apartment at this very moment for our first date, 7 months after we first began speaking. He had come home in March when France went into lockdown, and it was starting to feel like a throuple with long distance, the third and very present member in our relationship.

I packed up the belongings I had left there, and we sat across from each other on the double bed. I kissed him first. There were roadblocks, and our personalities and views clashed on so many important things, but I loved him. Two days later, I said: I have to leave for New York in 3 weeks. He didn’t take it well.

In September, I landed at JFK. When the wheels of the plane made contact with the runway, I was smiling behind a mask I’d had on for 16 hours. On the Air Train to Manhattan, I felt a sense of happiness wash over me and toyed with the possibility that maybe I wouldn’t mind if it was just me in this city. I would be okay alone.

I found an apartment, a roommate, signed a lease in a beautiful building in Hell’s Kitchen, walking distance from college. I met lots of people from my class and instantly picked out the ones I wanted to become good friends with. I dove straight into academics and extra curriculars at college – after 5 months of nothing happening, life was suddenly exciting again.

When New York lit up every night, it felt like anything was possible. I started eating better and walking a lot. My hair grew out from the bad haircut I’d gotten the year before. Coffee was no longer just coffee, it was finding a new café and walking through Central Park. Drinks were not just drinks, they were about accidentally stumbling onto a secret bar in the East Village, finding favorite spots in the neighborhood, letting a cute waiter recommend a cocktail to me even though I was perfectly capable of picking one myself.

The boyfriend and I were fighting more than usual. I was getting tired of it. We had discussed a life together, but it was slowly and surely becoming clear to me that I would resent myself for making big compromises for a person who still had a lot of growing up left to do. As New York got cold, I did too – without trying. When one particular argument got really bad, I asked for a break from the relationship. He didn’t like it.

A week later, I woke up to a girl sending me screenshots on Instagram of her conversation with him (pre me asking for a break) on a dating app, and without getting into details, I will tell you it was not a conversation anybody with a girlfriend should have been having. I should have been broken in half on the inside, but now I could finally say, without feeling guilty – this relationship was not working, nobody was happy, and you were so unhappy you thought talking to other women was okay. I spent all of one day drinking with a friend in Central Park and sobbing myself to sleep.

But mostly, what hit me after the initial shock had died down was a tsunami of relief. I felt lighter, freer. I try not to think too hard about the trauma that comes from finding out that the person you think is so devoted to you, and definitely loves you more than you love them (or so you think) is being unfaithful, because it hurts a part of me that is already very bruised from all the things that have happened to me before. So I don’t.

But it was New York. I was young and smart and there was a wine shop down the block that sold $14 bottles of Moscato. I didn’t need much else to know I would be okay. At 20, I would have jumped right back into going on dates every other night to distract myself from what had happened, then never called any of those men back. At 24, this emotional speed bump resulted in a lot of quiet introspection in my bedroom. I spent a lot of time alone, on the phone with friends, and walking around the city. I had learnt to like my own company enough to not fill a suddenly empty void with anybody else’s, even though there have been several tempting offers in this past month, and sometimes, I have succumbed to them, but mostly I am very strict with who deserves my company.

It was nice to spend that second month in New York by myself. I owed absolutely nobody a single minute of my time. No one asked me questions, or called me and expected me to share my day unless I wanted to, and once I had worked hard and cleared out the things from my to do list for the day, time stretched out before me and I had the autonomy to decide the smallest thing down to who to meet, what to eat, how much to sleep.

I didn’t let my academics and ambition suffer – no matter what happens, I never do and I never will. The grades stay up – it’s built into my system. I am back home now and just 2 days in, I find myself wishing I hadn’t left New York. I was starting to build a life I liked there, and the only price I had to pay for it was a 4 pm sunset. It would have been slightly lonely, but I like the time I spend by myself. I worked hard to become like that.

This month, I will see my friends here at home. I’ve missed them. I can’t believe I grew up in this city and I already feel so alienated from it just from 60 days of living away. Is that how badly I wanted to leave?

I might be dramatic and fly back on my 25th birthday, so that I can say, “I was on a flight,” and ignore the slowly expanding bubble of dread that comes with turning that old. I like the ambiguity of airports and I’m the sort of inherently sad person who would love to be alone and unreachable on my birthday.

I acknowledge that my problems this year have been so small in the face of those of us who have lost family members, contracted the virus, had to give up internships or had jobs taken from us, been torn away from family, or had to make it through this alone.  

I feel almost guilty that good things have happened to me in a year that has predominantly been bad for almost everyone else. I feel apologetic, even though from 2017 to 2019, I was treated like life’s sick joke so I should deserve these good things that I worked hard for.

I definitely feel myself growing up, though. Emotionally I find I have a clearer idea of what I want from relationships and friendships, and I don’t second guess cutting off anybody who doesn’t serve that purpose or messes with my mental peace. I still have days when self-doubt comes over for a cup of tea, leaves me weak in the knees, but most days are free of it. I am also moving out of that chameleon phase where I mirrored what I thought a room full of new people would want from me, and I am unapologetically myself, irrespective of who’s watching.

Last year I remember wishing for something stupid, like “I wish there was somebody to kiss on New Years Eve,” because I’ve never had anybody to smack lips with when it’s midnight. This year, I don’t care. I’ll kiss myself in the mirror, for all I care. I love her. She’s my homie.

It’s been a weird year. I know who I was in 2019, and I remember wondering if I was proud of her. Things were still in purgatory then. But I steered my life and brought it back on track. This year, I am proud of myself without doubting it.

There’s no measuring scale for personal growth, but if there was, I feel at least a couple of inches taller in 2020.