#currently watch the bullet in the brain which is what inspired this

[bisexualjonahsimms]

when the episode has my favourite character going through it

[hewhostrikes]

The Pup (Kratos)

A/N: Hello! This is my very first GOW mini fic/one shot/thing and I’m so nervous honestly, especially considering I’ve never written or posted anything serious on Kratos. Anyways, this was requested and honestly, I had a huge debate in my head whether to write this out or keep to bullet points. I settled for writing in the end, and I’d like to apologize for the short wait. I had a few things pop up irl and had to deal with them. But here we areeee. Also IM SORRY THE GIF JUST WORKS SO WELL.

WARNINGS: none! fluff, especially towards the end! ^^, a tiny bit of angst I guess? But like you gotta squint real hard. Old Kratos being old Kratos.

Summary: After hunting, you find a wolf cub not far from what you can assume is it’s deceased mother. Clearly you couldn’t simply leave it to die. The challenge here, however, is convincing Kratos to believe the same.

Holding back the shiver that threatened to take ahold of you proved difficult as the cold and harsh wind bit through your skin, chilling your very bones and surely freezing your brain. You’d been warned not to come along on this hunt, for Kratos had anticipated it to be rather long. At the thought of his name, you held back turning in the sled you currently sat on to look at him, knowing either he or Atreus would ask what’s on your mind/if you were alright. Hell, you were lucky Atreus didn’t notice how red your nose was despite sitting right next to you.

Instead, the boy seemed troubled, brows knit together in slight confusion as he subtly began looking around. You weren’t sure how he would manage to catch sight of anything given how Speki and Svanna were plowing through the snow at near light speed. You had to give it to them- those wolves worked hard. After a moment of watching Atreus become increasingly worried, you did your best to speak up.

“Atreus, are you alright?” Your teeth threatened to chatter as you spoke, though you managed to keep your composure- and gaze- hidden from plain sight. Suddenly, the sled came to a stop, and both you and Atreus looked back to find a tentative Kratos awaiting an answer. It seems your tone came off a bit too worrying. You and Atreus opened your mouths to speak, one intending to correct yourself and the other intending to provide an explanation. Thankfully, Atreus didn’t seem to notice your attempt and beat you to it, assuring his father that it wasn’t anything important.

“I just heard something, that’s all.” He explained, to which his father replied.

“What did you hear?” His voice, deep and true, rumbled about the silence that hung between everyone.

“A cry for help,” Atreus pointed ahead, right where you all were heading. It seemed it was on the pathway home. “If we keep going, we should find it!” His tone sounded hopeful, and it didn’t take a genius to figure what the boy’s plan was. Kratos continued on, however, indulging in his sons wishes.

Every second that passed only proved to inspire the cold to slowly poke through your exposed skin, almost making you regret your words just then. But, you knew that the suffering would be worth it, if this made Atreus happy. Besides, by this point you could hear the faint howling, one that caused Kratos to hesitate.

“Aye, lad… I don’t suppose this wolf would appreciate visitors at this time.” Mimir chimed in. You’d almost forgotten he was with you all.

“No, no, it’s a pup.” The boy replied simply, and, to your surprise, you were the only one to raise concern, at least outwardly. Kratos appeared stiffen up a bit, yet he remained silent.

“A pup? You do know approaching one of those is like stepping right into its mother’s mouth…” you tried to counter, but Atreus only sighed. If Kratos had any complaints by now, he didn’t express them, instead continuing on, albeit slowly.

“That’s the issue, there’s no sign of its mother anywhere. It’s alone and in pain.” He spoke with such confidence that you didn’t bother to press further. Kratos surely trusted Atreus, as did Mimir. It wasn’t that you didn’t, no, but it was in your nature to express at least some concern. Kratos now seemed less tense at the mention of a mother not being present.

It wasn’t long after that you had found it- a wolf pup off to the side, crying more than it was howling, pushing its nose against the neck of its deceased mother. You felt your heart shatter to pieces at the sight, though Kratos remained unmoved. Atreus seemed to be in your boat, leaving the sled, crouching down some, and attempting to approach the child.

“I… what can we do?” He asked, looking back to you and his father for an answer. Kratos attempted to take a step forward off of the sled, but by now the cub had noticed you all and nearly fell backwards trying to keep its distance. Clearly it didn’t want to leave its mother. After all, that was all it had…

“Why don’t we take it home with us?” You suggested, to which Kratos immediately cut in.

“No.” It was harsh, a statement nailed to the ground. You wondered why he would let you all stop here if he was only going to let it die. Atreus opened his mouth to argue, but Kratos spoke up once more. “Nature will take its course, this isn’t our concern.” You and the boy frowned and spared each other a glance, though Atreus seemed to give in easier than you were going to, taking a few steps towards his father.

“We can’t just leave it here..” You trailed off, looking over into the panicked eyes of the cub. It struck a cord in you, unleashed something that would not be swayed. Kratos seemed displeased with your answer, taking another step forward, towards you this time. But you cut him off before he could speak. “We can’t abandon it! There’s plenty of room at the house, and it won’t be too much of a leech regarding food, especially not now.” Your frantic pushing to change his mind earned you a drawn out grunt from the god.

“We cannot save every living thing we encounter. It is a deadly habit.” He argued, standing tall before you now. To this, you scoffed, causing him to narrow his eyes slightly.

“You saved me.” This garnered no response, and at that moment you knew you’d at least done something to make the gears in his head start turning. Atreus was standing a ways away from you two, cheeks puffed out as he quickly looked to his father for the reaction. A moment passed of pure silence, the breeze blowing past you four having long been tuned out from adapting to such weather. Kratos moved to look at the whimpering pup that still cowered next to its mother, then at Atreus, and finally back at you. “Let me take it with us, just this one. I promise you, you won’t regret it.” Another minute passed, as Kratos now looked into your eyes, and it felt as if your soul was constricting and simultaneously being pulled apart and looked at.

Whatever it is Kratos saw in you, it seemed to soften him just slightly, and he gave a curt nod. You and Atreus could barely contain your excitement as you both turned to face the shivering wolf. Atreus was about to approach, when Kratos put a hand on his shoulder. A silent way of saying, ‘this is her life to save.’ Atreus smiled up at him and nodded, noticing how you had already made it over to the pup. It looked awful, patches of fur matted and physique far from ideal.

“Hey, shhh, it’s ok little one…” you gently held out your hand, allowing the animal to sniff. Once it seemed to relax a bit, you turned back to Atreus. “Am I doing this right?” Your words made the boy laugh a little before he nodded and offered you a smile. Standing up straight, you took a few steps back and patted your thigh. “Come on, come with me. I’ll help you.” You explained, and the cub hesitantly began to follow you, stopping once to look back at its mother one last time before continuing on its new path.

“Enough to make a grown head cry.” Mimir chimed in as you now wandered past them in the direction of the sled. That earned a chuckle from Atreus as the three followed along behind you, as did the pup. You slowed down enough to walk beside Kratos, a habit you’d had from the beginning of your journey with him and Atreus. He didn’t seem to mind by now, though you recall a time where he made you walk in front. You teased him about how it was a chance to “check you out,” to which he gave a disapproving grunt and nothing more. You were happy to see him slowly trusting you more and more. Hell, you’d even argue that he seemed fond of you now.

It wasn’t anything grand, the things he did for you. To anyone else it may just come off as kind gestures. But you knew that it meant so much more to Kratos. What started as a simply providing for you so you could be useful became going out of his way to provide not just necessities, but small comforts as well. It was clear now that this little side quest was mostly to spend time with you and Atreus.

“You’re lucky he likes you, lass.” Joked the swinging head at the god’s side, earning a giggle from you, a huff of laughter from Atreus, and silence from Kratos. It was something the god could neither confirm nor deny. For his feelings were complex, especially considering his past love life. Perhaps, however, he would open up his heart to love eventually. His mistake, however, was assuming it would take ages. As you all settled down on the sled, you allowed yourself to open up a bit.

“Gah, It’s a bit cold, huh?” This time your teeth did chatter, but before you could process their reactions a heavy fur coat was being wrapped around you. Looking up, you saw Kratos, who then scolded you slightly for not saying anything earlier before taking his position at the back of the sled once more. The warmth that bloomed in your heart combined with the equivalent to a weighted blanket was almost enough to make you immune to the cold. Atreus merely grinned beside you, though he remained silent.

Again, it wasn’t anything grand, what he had done for you. But you knew it meant so much more than that to the god, and that was enough for you.

-

BONUS

“What do I call you?” Kratos says, stonefaced as he gazes down at the wolf cub currently panting at his feet.

[ozzgin]

Dearest Ozzgin, do you have any tips on how you stay motivated ? Everytime I go to write something I feel majorly stumped.

(P.s I love your work!)

During the pandemic I struggled to keep up with my academic studies, and so I got myself a self-help book about excelling in science: A mind for numbers by Barbara Oakley. I'm mentioning this because it ended up offering great insight on how to stay focused, motivated, and disciplined, regardless of what you're doing, and I use the advice to this day, even for my hobby writing. This is a mix of everything: tips from the book, other advice I've found online, and what helps me in particular.

Find a schedule. I personally find it easier to start an activity once it becomes part of my routine. It's something my brain anticipates and prepares for. Now, it doesn't have to be an exact timetable. But you can have a look at your current schedule, and come up with a rough interval. For example, you might have more time in the evening, or maybe you have a burst of energy in the morning. Pick a time when you're not too tired and try to stick to it most days.

Focus on the process, not achievement. So, you've established your routine. What did you set as an achievement? Concrete goals, such as finishing up a story, or writing a given number of words? While this isn't a bad idea, it can sometimes contribute to that stumped feeling you've mentioned. I once read an article from a professor who suggested the following: pick your time window, and focus on just doing something. In that hour you've dedicated to writing, you can write as planned, or you can sketch up the characters, create visuals, build an outline, draw a timeline, collect bullet points to elaborate later on, and so on. Maybe you're not particularly inspired at the moment; don't let it stress you out, just work around it instead.

Don't force yourself. Our brain uses two different processes for thinking - the focused and diffuse modes. In order to solve a problem or task, it's ideal to be in a focused mode. Your brain is actively building connections and coming up with solutions. A neat little detail, however, is that your brain doesn't stop working once you move on from a problem. It continues fiddling with it in the background: that's the diffuse mode. It's why you sometimes have a sudden eureka moment, despite not actively thinking of said topic. If you're struggling with your story and can't come up with anything, step away. Do activities that trigger your diffuse mode, like sleeping, listening to music, walking, cycling, drawing, taking a shower or bath, meditating. Let your mind fiddle with it freely, give it some time, and try again later.

Don't worry about how you write. You don't have to sit down and write entire paragraphs. I used to have an idea for a story, then I'd struggle to come with connectors for said idea. What happens before that? How do I begin? I'd end up wasting a lot of time writing the premise instead of the actual thought I originally had. Now I just write down whatever I feel like, while I have the inspiration, and fill the rest later. Even if it's just a sentence, or a concept, scribble whatever comes to mind and patch it up afterwards. It'll be easier to continue when you have a starting point to build around.

Small steps. Lastly, it's okay to take breaks, and it's perfectly fine to have days, weeks, or even months when you're simply just not in the mood. There are other ways in which you can build your story. You can draw the characters, build world maps, watch movies related to your topics, create fitting playlists, all that jazz. Be patient with yourself and don't forget why you're (presumably) writing in the first place - because it brings you joy. :)

[hardly-an-escape]

fic talk! tagged by @cliophilyra!

How many wips do you have currently?

oh god, please don't ask me. at least two BuckTommy fics (which may end up converging into one because they seem increasingly related). a half dozen or so Dreamling stories. a random Witcher fic and a random Stranger Things fic. a long-neglected Clintasha fic. I refuse to do this math.

Which one are you finding the hardest to finish? Why do you think that is?

it's hard to say. I'm a slow writer to begin with, and I (obviously) have the tendency to start new things without having finished previous projects. I definitely struggle more with longer/multichapter fics, and more complex stories in general. would you go along with someone like me? and The Trenches Have Vanished Under the Plough both fit into those categories, and those are the two that have probably given me the most trouble over the past year.

What does it usually look like when inspiration strikes for you?

it usually starts with a single short scene, or sometimes even a single line, that's basically just a vivid daydream until I get it actually written down and expand on it. often someone's tumblr post or headcanon will spark something for me, or a piece of fanart, or some other show/movie I've watched recently will make me think of an AU idea. but it's like pulling teeth to get whatever it is out of the daydream and into a document.

Do you curate playlists for each fic or is your process different?

I've never really gotten into this, but I think it's such a cool idea. I know folks who have particular playlists to get them into the headspace to write certain stories, and I love that concept. but for whatever reason, my brain doesn't really connect stories I'm writing to music in quite that fashion. I do like to have some kind of background noise while I'm writing, but it has to be instrumental (I'll get distracted by lyrics) and fairly unobtrusive.

Do you go balls to the wall and write as you go or are you more organised?

mostly balls to the wall, but I have found it rewarding recently to outline a little bit more. I do it very simply, basically a series of bullet points describing key events or conversations, or sometimes even just a character's reaction or attitude. I do tend to jump around and write non-chronologically, so it can help me visualize what's still left to write and what order it comes in. sometimes I'll go back and drop in a bullet point because I realize I want to expand on a scene or add in a reference, so I can quickly pencil in that note before I lose my train of thought and then flesh it out later. but yeah, mostly I'm just pantsing it!

no pressure tags: @cuubism @valeriianz @peppermintquartz @tryan-a-bex @beatnikfreakiswriting

[comfortless]

Hey! What were your favorite books/authors growing up and what are they currently if you don't mind me asking? I would love to know where you get your inspo from cause you write so pretty

hello!! ohhh.. i love this question it’s so cute. thank you for the compliment and for asking! 💞 apologies for my rambling heheh

growing up, i was never allowed to read most… popular series because my mother went through an extremely religious phase until i was a teenager. dodged the bullet of succumbing to Harry Potter and the like, so i always found myself in the library reading the most obscure things!

i obsessively read the Deltora Quest books by Emily Rodda most of all. the covers were so sick. i can’t recall which one it happened in, but when the main trio all had their toes chopped off?? i do not think 8 year old me should have been reading that, but i was obsessed with dragons as any other kid should be! it lead me to reading The Inheritance Cycle series by Christopher Paolini, too. anything fantasy that was a bit odd held my attention. The Pricker Boy by Reade Scott Whinnem, The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster, and all of the Moomin books by Tove Jansson were some other favorites!

i also read a lot of fairytales (to the surprise of no one, i’ll bet) and The Mabinogion. i still go back and reread those whenever i can. The White Cat is one of my many favorites!

as an adult i do not get to read much, unfortunately. so, i do sort of feel that my writing is a bit stunted at times. i was combing through a lot of Mercedes Lackey’s stuff for a little while. and recently, i finished The Devil All the Time by Donald Ray Pollock. a coworker gave me Twilight Eyes by Dean Koontz and whereas I do not care for his writing that much… parts of that particular book were really intriguing to me. poetry is nice too, always, but if anyone were to ask me for a list of my favorite poets i think that i would combust <- so many things in my brain and i can not remember most unless i’ve obsessively read over their work 90 times minimum sorry.

but….

i think that most of my inspiration comes from music with lyrics that capture me and long bouts of daydreaming, nowadays. i also like to visit abandoned places or overgrown parks when i need a place to think or just… feel for ambience. my favorite places in the world right now are this huuuge swamp full of alligators with a tiny cemetery that’s at least two hundred years old (like fifteen people have died there in the last decade & i will never be one of them) and a park that houses a supposed werewolf (no matter how many treats i bring it is yet to be seen… pain… but it is dreadfully silent there and a park keeper once told me “watch out!! that thing is big and super ugly!!” which i think is very funny). i would not recommend doing things like that however unless you are of similar stature to me (insert chad meme) or go with a group!! do not get eaten by a giant dogman, please.

in conclusion I am NOT immune to good cover art or the appeal of pretending to be a lil knight in the old wood…

^ syl reveal pt 2

[thatgirlonstage]

Re:zéro asks!

What do you think would be the most interesting/hilarious crossover Subaru could stumble into. Either pre-canon or canon (or maybe even IF story), because he gets into situations, regardless of the timeline.

What ships do you like?

Do you ship rezero characters with characters of other series? If you do which ones?

And lastly, do you think Subaru deserves à vacation?

I don’t really do/think about crossovers so much unless I get particularly inspired for some reason—I’ve had some AU thoughts about Re:Zero but I’ve never really bothered considering crossovers for it. Subaru is a difficult character to transpose out of his setting & original plot without doing a LOT of work vis a vis how you manage his character arc. Though actually precisely bc of that maybe the most interesting crossover to me would be if canon Subaru got a glimpse of himself if he had been dropped in a more traditional isekai (I don’t know nearly enough about classic isekai to pick one though) and the kind of person he would’ve become if he was just handed a bunch of awesome powers and people who think he’s cool without ever being called on his shit (the absolute worst version of himself). Relatedly, to your third question, nah I p much never ship characters outside their franchise. Even if they don't directly interact I need them to at least exist in the same/similar enough context or interact with some of the same people in order to get the shipping tickle in my brain. Again unless something particularly inspires a crossover idea, but even then, I will at most do like, bullet point ideas that are mostly meant to be funny to me. I almost never read crossover fic and I’ve never written it.

On ships in general… okay look. I am a) multishipper galore and always one good piece of fanart from being interested in whatever ship idea you want to pitch to me, but b) not primarily into this show for ships and c) at most poking the Re:Zero fandom with a ten foot pole for pretty fanart and usually staying well away from it except to make posts for my own amusement and like six of my friends. I can’t go in the Ao3 tag for it. Every time I do I start wanting to stab things. My current strategy to make re:zero fandom for myself by slowly luring all my friends into watching re:zero is having a shockingly good success rate but yeah the fandom at large is…… holy lack of reading comprehension Batman.

For whatever it’s worth, just as, things I will yell the most about while watching, I am deeply invested in Rem and Subaru in whatever configuration of relationship you want to put them in, I like Rem/Ram because I’m me, and idk that I really know enough about Satella to have Thoughts but I am So Normal about Satella/Subaru Jesus fuck the love love love love love you bit. (NB: I’m anime only with this series so far, please no spoilers.) Emilia/Subaru do make me soft, Subaru and Otto should queerplatonically own a cottage and 37 pets together, and Crusch/Felis are a t4t couple and I shan’t be told otherwise. Actually the ship I’ve probably Thought the most about though is Julius/Subaru. Why did they put in a loop where they speedran an enemies to lovers tragic boyfriends arc. What was that about.

But all of that is secondary to my desire to watch Subaru get the shit beat out of him 😂 which, to your last question—does he DESERVE a vacation? I mean, sure, boy’s been through the biggest boatload of trauma one can imagine and he’s not a bad person even if he’s an asshole with a lot of baggage to unlearn. Do I want him to GET one? Absolutely not, that boy was made in a lab for me to squeeze him like a stress ball

[elizaellwrites]

How Do I Plan Tag

So, appropriate to the conflicting sides of my personality, my planning style has two drastically different approaches... so let's get started! (I'm wordy, I apologize in advance.)

Thank you @my-cursed-prince for tagging me in this and for everyone who's ready to bear with me as I try to explain the war that takes place in my mind.

How do you plot your writing out?

Step 1- Inspiration

This almost always happens at the worst possible times, either while I'm at work, in class, doing homework, etc. Most of the time it's because I see or hear something that sends a lightning bolt of an idea straight into my mind, and I don't know how my brain jumped through the hoops to get what I got out of what I was given. When this happens, it's almost always frustrating in the moment, since I get the overwhelming urge to start immediately when I often can't. I either make a mental note of the idea, or I write a physical note to remind myself to revisit it.

Purposeful/directed inspiration can also come through listening to music, watching movies/TV shows, reading, and looking at art, but this is honestly less common unless I'm writing while doing these things simultaneously (which I do quite a bit.)

Step 2- Filtering

This can happen in one of two ways. The first is whether I decide to call my brother (my unofficial editor) to see if my idea even remotely makes sense to anyone that isn't me. Then we either scrap, alter, or build on the ideas over the next half hour or so. Most of the time he just tells me that it's my story so I know what will work best with what I'm planning, but I also know that some things can seem obvious to me as the author that will go unintentionally under the radar to a reader, so he's a great help in my process when I bring him in.

The other way can be best described as a mental file cabinet, where I keep all of my plans for current and future projects. Truly, I think this is the more common way I do it, otherwise, I would be calling my poor brother almost constantly. When I'm doing this, I'm basically skimming through each of the files, seeing if this new idea works anywhere, and which characters would be best for this plotline, or vice versa. If it doesn't fit anywhere but has potential, I make another file and save it for later. If it contradicts what I've built, it gets dismissed. If it does fit, I then go to the next step...

Step 3- Development

This is where I spend most of my time. If it's a character, this is background, personality, role, etc. If it's worldbuilding, I'm here for days to weeks until it's blended into everything I had developed previously, as if it was always there. If it's a plot line or event, I locate where it is in the master timeline and create a rough sketch of what I want to happen around the initial idea. Any research takes place here as well. It's pretty straightforward.

Step 4- Bullet Point Storylining

This creates a visual for me to go off of; a road map per se. It's flexible and very open to possibilities, yet holds me to the structure that I put in place during development. This way, nothing crazy happens, but I can still surprise myself in...

Step 5- Drafting

Where chaos unfolds. Anything can happen- as long as I try to follow the map I set up with my bullet points. Then I repeat the drafting of that part until my perfectionism is satisfied enough to where I don't feel like I need to burn the pages that only exist on my computer. So this period can also take quite a bit of time, as I refine and shape draft after draft. Editing is included in this step, as editing is simply rewriting, but way better.

In short, the process is: Plan, check the plan, plan some more, draw out the plan, then set the plan on (barely controlled) fire.

2. What's your favorite part of the writing process?

I really enjoy the actual writing part the most. It's incredibly freeing to get everything out on paper, and that feeling doesn't change when I'm even just rewriting.

Seeing how everything ties together even better than they do in the filing cabinets and scattered notes. I love to see my characters interact in a way that is better than I could ever simply explain that they would. I love when they come to life and react in a way that I didn't initially see from them but makes so much sense. I like painting my world with words so that others can fall in love with it as much as I have through the hundreds of hours I've poured into it.

In some ways, my writing process is a mystery to me in how my worldbuilding has gotten so expansive that I'm building a Google Site and a guidebook for myself. I don't know when my characters started acting without my explicit permission, and I don't know where the inspiration for my specific plotlines came from. Some have been there so long that they've just become a fundamental fact of the story and the world.

I love how it's gotten a life of its own through the chaos that has burned through the first four steps of my writing process in the last, but most important one. To me, my characters have been real people for years. Is that weird? Maybe, but it's also incredibly special, and I wouldn't change that for anything. They've grown with me, and so has my fictional world. As I grow to see the complexities of the world around me, and as I experience life, it reflects in my work for both the good and the bad.

I wouldn't have my writing process any other way. (Even if it creates an inner debate on how much chaos is too much chaos.)

Feel free to participate: @the-printed-words, @verba-writing, @marigoldispeculiar, and @queerlilchinchin & anyone else who may be interested!

[anthonybialy]

Targeted Memories

Donald Trump was nearly murdered a month ago.  Oh: right.  That sounds vaguely familiar.  The terrible scene is as jarring to ponder as it is to have to bring back to mind.  The assault should be easier to picture than a grocery list, but we spaced on getting food, too.  While life always moves on, it’s now outpacing the topic sentence.

The most monumental incident of that night characterized our world almost through dawn.  A moment that seemed certain to define the race and influence history is out of mind like a tweet about Jersey Shore.  Ronnie was wrong whatever it was.  The images we thought would haunt us as we tried to fall asleep have faded as our brains have shifted to needing a reminder to keep them in mind.  It’s very 2024.

A supernova world features intensity that instantly fades.  Ceaseless social media consumption does something to our brains, but the details about what just left my mind.  Does anyone know my name?

Commies snuck in a win that we failed to notice.  The Chinese spyware video application inflicted more direct damage with incessant videos than sending all personal information to commie creeps.  I thought MTV destroyed attention spans, but it turns out watching one video at a time was our generation’s equivalent of the Ring Cycle.

The attempt on his life is not the only allegedly monumental news involving Trump that inspires afterburner fury.  Intensity is matched by rapidity.  The near-assassination is like his conviction.  Can anyone bring to mind the crime he didn’t really commit?  Democrats thought they’d get to call their villain a felon, but the lack of current event retention beat their fondness for technical correctness.  Wikipedia substitutes for our memories.

Similarly, I remember his second impeachment because of the connected tantrum, but the first’s as foggy as algebra.  The fact a scumbag’s enemies made up charges doesn’t aid visualization.

Trump is not helping himself, which is his brand.  Claiming some shadowy deep state network sponsored the prototypical lone gunman is the most obvious way to dilute the advantage of getting winged, so of course some loyalists indulge.  Baseless lunacy exceeding real trauma allows media outlets to focus on the insane blather of someone who was actually wounded.  For someone who hates journalists, he sure provides them ample chances to correct overreactions that careen into deranged claptrap.

It’s not to blame the prey, but the person who gave a good 10-minute acceptance speech over more than an hour encourages discursiveness.  Trump was impulsive about skipping around the dial long before he had access to the same wireless pocket rectangles that facilitates runaway trains of thought.

Raging out about whatever comes to mind that moment is way more satisfying than spending precious minutes pondering a solution, at least for now.  Trump’s the ultimate Boomer in case anyone blames people cursed to be born in the 21st century as inventing inattentiveness.

Sympathy has limits, such as not voting for someone because of what someone tried to do to him.  A raised fist in defiance of blood was his most genuine moment.  But he would still be an undignified president who spends like a drunken Democrat.  We already know.  He held the job, remember?  Goldfish brain is an acquired characteristic that only seems contagious.  Nobody recalls how it started.

Lousy aim shouldn’t target the outcome.  The election remains about an unpleasant phony posing as the most honest person versus the prototypical airhead who would sell out her pinko principles for a handful of votes.  Not letting a failure at assassination and everything else dictate the future is a fitting legacy.

Everyone should remain ticked.  Someone taking a shot at one of the finalists is an outrage no matter what.  Decent humans don’t check whether or not they’d vote for the person who felt breeze from a bullet that pierced his ear.  Emblematic federal incompetence enables inept evildoers in an illustrative moment for our time.  The trouble is remembering the lesson.  Some liberal zealots suffering through the Biden years still believe their faith works because they apparently enjoy having their worthless money stolen.

The upside of discarding thoughts of every moment that happened before this afternoon is the fiend’s irrelevance.  The malevolent twerp can’t get comfortable on a mattress of flames on the upper bunk the same eternal cell as John Wilkes Booth even though he’s been banished from consciousness like it’s prom invitation season.  Discussing how instantaneously news cycles change distracts from focusing on a story for a sixth minute. 

Trump gets the most aid from his enemies.  Falling for the trap is like a curse inflicted by Greek gods.  Myths are neglected because no streaming service carries their stories.  The plot thwarted by fate made Trump a victim, which is the worst possible favor granted to him.  There’s nothing worse than letting a paranoid person be correct about conspiracies.

Yet the public is already forgetting his tale of survival as part of the commitment to fuming without knowing why.  The thoroughly lousy shooter’s name is the one thing that should be forgotten.

[mortauroi]

Wood of Suicides

This particular short story takes place in 1768-9 after John and Gio left Vienna. Inspired by Die Leiden des jungen Werther and Dante’s Inferno.

Heavy tw for what it says in the title and some scary imagery.

“Gianni- Gio, this isn’t you!”

“This,” he moved his hands frantically around himself, “is what you made me, John!”

“But you’re far too young, Gio- I’m not entirely sure that would be wise!”

“Please don’t let my youth distance you from me. This year I completed two decades of life but I could’ve sworn it was a century.”

-

The cold metal of the pistol’s barrel had been the last thing he ever felt. He’d aimed right above his right eye; put a bullet through his skull. The chair was covered in a thick coat of dried blood, as all seemed to be.

He had shot himself while sitting there, then slid off onto the ground, where he agonized until death. The servants said he had been breathing when they found him. He died at midday.

His casket was carried away by strangers. John did not bear its weight with them.

He viewed it all from above, like God would, cold and distant, until he approached John’s pallid face like a bird diving from the sky, shone onto it a light so bright it should’ve blinded him; saw John’s cheeks being washed by a stream of tears, a current so endless he thought he might flood the world if it did not stop (a thought that then had felt perfectly logical – as had watching himself blow his own brains out – though that is the nature of dreams). He dabbed his eye with a tissue and the flow decreased, decreased, decreased… then suddenly John’s weeping ceased, and his face contorted into the most earnest expression of pain and resentment Gio had ever seen, utterly disfiguring him, less of a man now and more of a beast. His eyes were dark with an inhuman fury, a vision so horrifying Gio felt completely immobilized by fear. A blood curdling scream echoed inside his head— Amalia. He tried to scream, too, but from his mouth escaped no noise. He felt himself being suffocated— an old hand wrapped around his throat, the other yielding blood-covered axe, the peculiar crack of bones being broken, the smell of fear and despair in the air, of moldy straw and turpentine, of dirt being shoveled into a shallow grave…

-

Gio woke up, sweating profusely. His hand flew to his temple, where he’d half expected to find a gaping hole, dripping blood and brains. He turned over the side of the bed and emptied the contents of his stomach in his chamber pot. He tasted only bitter bile, but a relief like no other washed over him afterwards, and he was lulled into sleep again, completely exhausted.

-

“The human brain, signore,” said Dr. C—, putting away his tonics and devices neatly in their leather case, “has a keen instinct of self preservation that is unparalleled in nature. There are even those phlegmatic creatures that would not hesitate to stumble upon a corpse to achieve their ends!” he let out a small, self-conscious laugh, then fumbled with his hands, waving the words away: “Though let’s not focus on such terrible things, my boy.”

“Right on, doctor,” Gio answered unemphatically.

The doctor gave Gio a bitter tonic to drink “for the pain”, and told him his humor was too thin, that he needed to be more generous with his meals, and such, and such. He was right— though Gio refused to acknowledge it, he was worryingly thin. He’d always had a natural disposition for fatness; there was never a time in his life in which his figure was not soft around the edges, except for now. He saw, when the sheets covering the mirrors in his bedchamber fell as he was dressing, that his ribs were visible and his stomach was a hollow slope where it used to be a soft belly. The sight was unsettling, like when lush trees lose their vibrant foliage in winter and reveal their warped branches beneath. His skin was dry and flaked off where he touched it; his hair was dull and fell out in small chunks when he ran his hands through it.

Death to him at that state felt as natural as breathing, a sweet release to free him from that miserable existence. John and Amalia had said he was beautiful, once, and he almost believed them. Almost.

Then he remembered his dream, and the doctor’s words.

If the human brain seeks to preserve itself, why plant that sinful seed in the soil of his soul, why dangle in front of him the key to his freedom, a way to take back control, if that would mean to end its activity forever? Why show him, almost didactically, how to be rid of his body, and damn his immortal soul? He recalled the wood of suicides; the most pure form of sacrilege: to deny God’s gift of life, to take from His goodness and desecrate His image. He could already feel the harpies feeding on his tender leaves: his limbs, either from the cold or from anticipation, were stiff like wood.

He stumbled back into bed and waited patiently for death, expecting to see its hollow eyes peeking out of the window at any moment now.

-

“A cemetery, Gio? How mournful…”

“It remains a park too, John, and if it were not for the church’s prices of burial lots, there would be no graves being dug here,” Gio responded sharply.

“Alright, alright,” John sighed, and shook his head, “take my arm.”

Gio placed his hand on his friend’s arm, shooting a wave of pain through his bad arm. He winced, closing his eyes tight to try and ride that wave without fainting.

“Gio? Oh Christ, are you alright?” John asked exasperatedly. His face contorted into an expression of profound worry, making little ripples on his forehead. His lips were pressed tight and he looked around quickly from side to side, inspecting if there was something nearby that was dangerous for Gio to fall onto.

“I am fine,” Gio spoke, voice still a little too strained to be convincing.

John tried to smile, but his furrowed brows gave away his apprehension. “I am fine, John. Let us walk,” he repeated, more firm this time.

John walked slowly over the stone path, every now and then shooting a worried glance over Gio’s way whenever he faltered to step over a displaced cobblestone.

Gio’s health had improved, and though it was true his jackets still hung too loose on him and his pants had to be held up by a belt, he looked much better. His cheeks had regained their color, and his hair had stopped falling, and he could feel the new strands growing when running his fingers across his scalp. The thaw had come and Spring was on its heel, little blossoms adorning the trees, small flowers around the path with hoverflies and beetles jumping from one to the other like little fairies. Gio stopped abruptly beneath a horse chestnut tree. A songbird had made its nest in one of the tree’s branches, and there it sat peacefully over its eggs. Another songbird appeared, and perched on the edge of the nest. They tweeted at each other a bit (Gio stood there enthralled by that tiny conversation), until they shared a kiss and the latter songbird flew away. “He must’ve been feeding her,” Gio spoke, pointing up at the nest, “I heard that when one bird is brooding, the other will get food. Hence the kiss.”

“So he just comes and spits food into his wife’s mouth? How gallant.”

“Maybe you should do that to your Allegra, huh?”

“That’s disgusting. But it’s not beyond me.”

[Finis]

Written around February-April of 2023

[riansdiary]

Rian's Movie Review/Reaction

Hello and Welcome to my first movie review/reaction/commentary! This is really special since this one is my favorite movie right now. Let's start, shall we? 🥳

This is my movie review for Enola Holmes 2!!!

Wow, I don't even know how to start but it's still fresh in my mind so hopefully I remember everything I need to talk about. If not then I will watch again as I write this!

First off, I really love this movie and I cried a lot during and after the movie. I was in tears, actual falling tears as I finished it. It was so inspiring and empowering for me. I wanted to be like Enola Holmes. Someone who's very intelligent, has great deductions and most of all, she has such a fun and exuberant personality! She's also really inspiring and someone I aspire to be like. Currently finding my own Lord Tewkesbury right now 😆 I just loved their relationship since the first one!

As someone who grew up reading and watching mystery and detective stuff, this was perfect for me because I love Sherlock Holmes, Enola Holmes, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, you name it. It is my favorite genre, that's true. I just love a good book or movie that can make me think or test my brain or solve problems, cases and puzzles. I love those type of things so yes I do play those kind of games too. I've played the Nancy Drew ones before and loved it so much. If you're curious on what I'm playing right now, I did just play Hardy Boys: Treasure on the Tracks which is an NDS game. I played it on my phone because I have an emulator for it. I know I'm going on a tangent here but I just wanted to share that.

Let's start!

I'm gonna do them in bullet points so it's easier to read and more organized.

Enola was at first overshadowed by her brother but we know that since her brother is none other than Sherlock Holmes but she definitely is very much like him in terms of intellect. She is quite as intelligent and as observant as he is. They both have amazing deductions. However, she wasn't even respected when clients were coming in. They were like, "You're a girl!" and I said in my mind, "So what? So you think just because she's a girl, she can't be intelligent? As intelligent as her brother?"

Can we talk about the whole thing about Enola breaking the fourth wall and looking/talking to the camera? I liked this because I felt like I was with her during the whole movie. It was so much fun and so funny at times! This was so good and I also liked it from the first movie. This is so unique and so immersive for the viewers! During the movie when she talks to the camera, I kind of answered or talked to Enola in my mind because it was fun to do that. I was just being myself and having fun watching it!

Bessie is so freaking cute! I had to talk about her!

When I knew that Sarah Chapman had red hair, I kept that in my mind like the other clues so when I saw Cecily, I immediately knew or rather felt that it was her. She's so pretty! A perfect casting for Lily Potter I would say!

Enola carrying her brother to his room was cute and funny! He was always telling her that she should probably write what he said and that was adorable because he was giving her tips and somehow teaching her what he knows as a private detective himself.

Can we talk about the outfits!!! Oh my God Enola and everyone looks so amazing in their outfits! Loved the ball dress and her blue one! Those are probably my favorite ones!

Louis looking like a whole prince again and he looks great with his new hairstyle! I see him as more of a little brother thing not a crush but doesn't he look like a prince? He just has such a prince face! Do you get what I'm saying? Like he looks a total prince and he also could play a live action Disney prince!

Henry Cavill as Sherlock is just perfect!

Enola always waiting for/watching Tewkesbury on his way to the Lords! That's so sweet! It was so funny when she was defending herself from the viewers saying that she only comes there when there's a need for it, that was cute af! Also when she asked us if he's looking back I said in my mind to answer her, "Yes he is! Girl, he's so looking back you just didn't see!" That was so much fun to watch!

When she was solving the secret message in the letter, I was so excited! I love those kinds of scenes! God when she squealed after solving it and there was a woman with a baby, that was so funny! I love those moments when she squeals, it's just so cute!

When Enola was made a suspect for the murder of Mae, Oh my God! I mean it makes sense why they would think it's her but I expected something better from Lestrade but I guess it's because she wanted to keep the evidence she found that's why she kicked Grail and ran for it. Can I just say that I hate him? I hate Grail so much!

That whole scene of Sherlock hiding his sister behind his case board from Lestrade! That was iconic! Loved that part a lot!

I love how Sherlock walks into a place that the police are investigating and just goes in like, "Don't be ridiculous." That was so Sherlock!

Millie looks so good with the simple but beautiful makeup she was wearing on the ball scene!

The aesthetics! I loved how everything looked! The outfits, the cinematography, the little animations and the places that I saw in the movie! It was so pleasing to the eyes!

That scene with Mira Troy was wonderful! I liked her! At this point, I didn't know she was Moriarty yet but we have a female Moriarty! That's awesome!

Can we just talk about Millie using the fan? She was so funny and adorable on that scene! When she accidentally given some type of fan message to the guy, that was the funniest scene for me! Loved when she said, "Help." to the camera! It was even more funny when she was shooing the guy with her fan!

Gosh that smile on Enola's face when she saw Tewkesbury! So cute! As usual, he's interested about the plants! That's our boy! He was so cute when he was smelling the plant!

That whole dance scene was so perfect! So romantic and majestic! I love them together! They're so cute! Did I say that I love that already? Good! Just making sure bcs I loved it so much! Finally some Holmesbury moments after the ending of the first movie!

Enola angry eating getting jealous when Tewkesbury was talking to the other ladies! That was really cute!

Them getting jealous bcs of William and Cecily is just so adorable! That scene with Tewkesbury entering the room instead of William was so good! I loved how you can see that they're jealous! Enola thinking he would like Cecily and Tewkesbury's reaction about Enola waiting for William was fantastic!

The scene when Enola got caught by the police was so annoying. I hated it. Poor Enola who went to prison and immediately was almost hanged Oh God! It was horrible! You know what other scene I hated? Yes! That scene when the police took her out of the ball and people were judging her and laughing! That was the worst. Just know I'm talking about this as my reaction to the scene and more about how I feel about what happened on that scene.

Grail, Grail, Grail. I hated him so much! That scene with him in the prison? He's so horrible. The way he used phosphorus dust to put Enola's fingerprints on the knife? I really hate him for doing that.

Another thing I want to say, I also felt like kicking something when Sherlock was talking to Grail about Enola. I felt soooo much relief when Sherlock kicked that thing in front of the police station/prison.

Sherlock going to Edith for help was a good scene! I liked their dynamics! It was really nice to watch.

Aww Eudoria and Edith coming to rescue Enola was so amazing! It was such a great scene when they were escaping and taking Enola with them. Fighting Grail and his minions! They deserved that yeah! Such iconic scenes! The fight scene was really good! When Grail was hitting or slapping Enola, I fudging (just keeping it nice and swearless just in case someone young is reading!) hated him for that! Enola saw her mother again yay! That was such a beautiful scene when she went like "Tis' I!" and they hugged! Loved that!

Eudoria with her explosives! What a great scene! When she finally uses the dangerous explosives, loved it especially when she told Enola that it was the dangerous one. Eudoria whistling while they ran away from it was such a nice touch!

Gosh that blue outfit that Enola wore after the fight with the ribbon on her hair was just absolutely perfect!

Her last scene with her mother and Edith was just a little sad but it was beautiful! Loved when she hugged both of them and winked at her mother!

When Enola was finding out that there was something off about the match factory, the matches and Typhus, I really loved finding that out too because I had a feeling that it was because of the phosphorus. Loved that whole scene when she was realizing that Sarah, Mae and William were testing the red and white powder on the plants. The white one was killing the plants and the insects. Even the rat. That means that the girls were dying because of that new thing that the factory was using that makes the white matches. I meant cheaper phosphorous.

The outfit that Louis had on when Enola went to him because she needs his help, he looks so good! Other than that, his house! It's so beautiful with plants and probably flowers wow! Enola hiding there with a leaf covering her face was funny! Also her getting jealous because Cecily went there to see him aww!

Tewkesbury just going off and confessing while Enola was realizing that Cecily was Sarah! He meant to say he has no eyes for anyone but you! That's just what I said in my mind that whole scene!

Can I just say that one of my favorite scenes would definitely be the one where as I said Tewkesbury was busy trying to confess his feelings and Enola realizing that Sarah is Cecily and then she walked out and Tewkesbury came after her and that whole scene was *chef's kiss*! Finally they admitted their feelings for each other! I literally cried because I loved that and I just feel like their relationship is just so lovely, beautiful and wholesome! That's the kind of love I want for myself. Pure love. Don't worry though! I might have two candidates who's like Tewkesbury! 😍 I'm sorry I don't know why I'm talking about my love life here! ��

I think you can guess when I started crying other than the Eudoria and Edith saying goodbye to Enola part. Yes, when they said "I love you" to each other! That was really sweet and I've been waiting for that since the first movie! The fan language omg! When we finally knew what that meant, it was really special!

Another one of my favorite scenes was when Enola was going in the match factory and Sherlock was also there! My favorite part was when they both said, "You." Henry Cavill really looks great with that Sherlock hair! He looks so dashing with the outfit and everything! Their cases were connected! Loved that we can see the Holmes siblings work together on a case. Hi Mycroft, still haven't forgiven him for the things he said or things he had done to Enola but would have loved to see how his relationship with Enola changed.

Oh William. Really hoped he didn't die because I liked him with Sarah.

Tewkesbury entering complaining to Enola while the siblings were investigating was another one of my favorite parts.

Enola gesturing to the body of William to Tewkesbury and his reaction was kinda cute tbh!

The whole scene of Enola and Tewkesbury in the cab was one of my favorites as well! I loved when she was teaching him to fight and then the long awaited kiss scene! 😱

I was so sad when the time came that they had to tell Sarah that William is dead.

Can I tell you how angry I was when Grail entered with a knife on Bessie? Ugh!!! I hate him! God and he shot our Sherlock? Hated him and I'm saying it again. That last fight scene? Wow that was epic! Tewkesbury fighting with that sword or cutlass whatever it is! Ugh Grail hitting Enola was annoying! Gosh when we all thought Enola was stabbed by Grail? First, I thought she was wearing another corset like last time but then we found out that it was Mae's retractable one!

I am so f-ing done with Grail! He just hit Enola with that anchor thing! F him honestly!!! And Tewkesbury nooo! He was so hurt from that fight just like Sherlock and Enola.

Grail thought he already won the fight. Ha! I really loved it when Enola, Sherlock and Tewkesbury defeated their enemies finally! Sherlock and Tewkes were concerned about her because of Grail ofc. That hug of Enola and Tewkesbury made me so happy! Loved Sarah hugging Bessie too and that little nod of Sherlock to Enola was so endearing to me. I think it means "You alright?"or " Are you okay?". She answered with a nod back to him. That was such a cute little moment between the siblings.

Henry Cavill's voice as Sherlock is so satisfying and soothing or relaxing to hear. I don't know it's like Asmr to me!

The revelation of Mira Troy as Moriarty, Oh my God! So good! At first, I was confused because I didn't know Moriarty was gonna be in this movie. I was actually surprised but I was so happy to know that they decided on a female Moriarty. That was a nice touch! I love how they made her be Moriarty and be the one stealing money because it's empowering to women I guess? Like they thought she was not capable of such thing and they were proven wrong. The lesson from that is that we shouldn't underestimate girls, women and people. I just hated that William was killed because of her or Grail. I liked it when I found out that she was stealing from someone bad and corrupt like those people at Lyon matches. When she said that she had twice the mind of everyone there, Sherlock and Enola shared this look of disapproval or it's like she said something crazy! I kinda reacted like that honestly for the Holmes siblings and me since I get really pissed off when someone underestimates or judges my intelligence so yeah I kind of had the same look on my face.

I scoffed for Sherlock, Enola and for me when Mira Troy said that! I was like, "Excuse me? How dare you?"

There is one thing I liked about what she said, it's when she talked about women and what they were told not to do in that era. Sharon Duncan-Brewster and her amazing delivery of her lines!!! Also her outfit wow!

When McIntyre (thank God his name is in my keyboard's suggested words!) burned the evidence that Sarah, Mae and William worked hard for. F him too!

Let's talk about Enola, Sarah and Bessie telling all the girls in the match factory the truth. I really liked it especially when Enola was being really sassy to that man. Sarah's speech was special but I'm just annoyed at that man telling the girls that it's not worth it or whatever bs he was saying that convinced them to stay. Like what's worth it in that dangerous factory when they can find safer jobs than that? Did he mean that working in that factory with the dangerous phosphorus was not worth it to quit because of the money they get paid from making those damn matches? Hated him because he's convincing them to stay and die! He also said to the girls that they should think of their families. More like you think about the families of these girls! They're gonna die in that factory! Another thing that he said was that it was not worth the risk. So them continuing to work in that dangerous factory is worth the risk? No it's not!

Bessie starting to stomp to encourage everyone to quit was amazing to watch!

I started crying again when I saw that whole revolution scene! It was very touching to watch. Especially when I found out at the end of the movie that it was a real thing that happened in history.

Eudoria and Edith watching Enola, Bessie and Sarah lead the revolution was really sweet to add in. I loved that they were watching over her.

Yes! Enola has her own private detective office now! That's also in Edith's place! Loved that! Tewkesbury putting McIntyre in jail! Yeah!!! Also when Tewkesbury raised his eyebrows at him, that was so good! I was so proud of our Tewkesbury!!! He's so handsome at that part too!

Can I just say how much I loved the part when Sherlock offered to be a private detective duo with his sister aww!!! Holmes and Holmes would've been amazing but we do have Watson! That was so cute when they had that whole sibling moment! It was very touching for me too. Loved when he said that they should check up on each other! He must be so proud of her!

That blue capelet/capelet dress Millie wore for that scene is just divine! I actually want it! I want to buy something like that! Also the cute Enola holding on Tewkesbury's arm aww so adorable and that was one of my favorite parts too! The whole part when they were walking out of Edith's place leaving Sherlock, just so perfect and really cute!

I do love Sherlock being friends with Edith. Mira Troy has escaped! Hoping there's a third movie!

I just really enjoyed that last scene of Enola and Tewkesbury walking together!

Thanks for reading my movie review or reaction for Enola Holmes 2!!! I would rate this 10 out of 10 for me! I loved it and I would probably watch it again and again like the first movie!

Love, Rian 💋

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kurt Kelly x Fem!Bitch!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Someone Gets Hurt

Plot: Some little wannabe steals away your boyfriend, Kurt, while also batting her big ass lashes and winning over your friends, too... until you've had enough. No one out bitches you.

Notes:

Obviously, this is inspired by Someone Gets Hurt from Mean Girls except with Regina (The reader) as the heroine.

Warnings: Overall bitchiness, possessiveness (You about Kurt), break ups (Make ups too though so its not too bad ^^), the ruining of another persons relationship (Random girl Lizzie and Kurt's), rapeiness (Ram), sexual references, underage drinking, overage drinking, just LOTS of debauchery over all, a smut bit near the end (Not full), etc.

Was I too proud with you? Was I too cold and forbidding? And you chose her over me Are you kidding?

Watching Kurt and Lizzie together this week has been torture. Terrible, burning, squeezing, not-at-all sexy torture.

Because Kurt, is yours.

He has always been yours. He was yours in kindergarten, he was yours in middle school, and he was yours all through highschool until this, unfortunate and butt fucking ugly, snag. Crossing your arms now and poisoning them with your eyes, you sit in the cafeteria... and think.

Just, think.

You don't gossip with your minions about all the bullshit going on in school, you don't discuss what you're going to do to the freshmen this year, no. Nothing. You're too busy... plotting.

There is no way in hell, that this pee-brained virgin bitch is going to steal your boyfriend, and not get paid back in turn. Its only fair- and you include interest, in your transactions like this.

One eye actually twitches, when Lizzie... the pee brained virgin bitch in question, gives Kurt a peck on the nose - oh so cute, but you don't even have to look at Kurt to see the disappointment flash in his eyes, - and hops off his lap when the bell rings. He has a free period now, you know because so do you and you usually spend it at the back of the football field together, but she has Chemistry, a thing you also know because hell- you just know everything. That's a basic fact. The whole school knows it and love that you never have to explain how you just fucking know shit.

But even being all knowing does not make you feel better, knowing that itty bitty roach-cunt has her claws embedded in your poor, weak-willed... ex boyfriends,... heart. Or his penis, more likely. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because Lizzie's the 'Mary'est whore in the land of Westerberg High.

That doesn't really matter though. Either way, he's with her now and not you, and that just wont do.

Maggie, your right hand babe, gets up from your lunch table and leaves for her next class, too. And its only until she's out of sight, that you notice the piece of paper she left behind. Rolling your eyes, a growl of annoyance escapes you and you sigh- turning away from Kurt and Ram's table to see what the fuck it is. The reprieve is almost palpable, not looking at him anymore. It feels a little better- but not by much. And certainly not enough for you to forget what fuckery is going on.

Picking up the piece of paper in one perfectly manicured hand, you see that its an invitation. "Hmm... " Worrying the inside of your cheek, you think; This is interesting.

A Halloween party...

A gleeful smirk quirks slightly at the corners of your lips.

Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween.

~

And what you meant by 'Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween'- is 'Kurt always did have a boner for your Halloween costumes'. For the past several years, since the two of you blossomed with the help of puberty, you have used your assets as an advantage - because why else have them? - ; With the help of lace tights, push up bra's, winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

This year you've pulled together your favourite costume yet, which is fitting for the task at hand and the fact that its senior year- this may be your last chance to put these bottom dwelling highschool chuckleheads in their place.

I mean, you hope not but its basically a given.

Looking around the party as you walk in, you figure its just the same as any party Ram has thrown before. And his house is perfect for it, you'll give him that. The lights a turned down low enough that everyone looks a little hot, cooler's full of ice and alcohol are set up so you're never too far from a fix and thanks to his houses sound system the music is loud enough to make you think for a couple hours that you're in a place between reality and your dreams; A perfect set up for mistakes and one wild night.

But you aren't here to get drunk and kiss a loser, except for Kurt; You're here to take back the goddamn crown. Which getting Kurt back, will do. It'll humiliate Lizzie, and that's really all you want out of life right now.

Prowling through the crowd - which still knows to part for you, despite your current, slightly lower social standing, - in your knee high, shiny black leather boots, you look for someone to talk to. You know Maggie's here somewhere but that bitch is on her last life with you, after she said Lizzie's hair looked nice the other day. And you think some silent treatment will set her straight.

"Oh- Hi Ram." You find the host in the backyard, about to push an unsuspecting demoness into in a very sheer red blouse into the pool - which would doubtlessly make the blouse more of a red tint to her skin rather then any kind of coverage, which Ram well knows, - , and he double takes when he sees you. A sleazy, mischievous grin slops over his face at the sight, which makes you roll your eyes.

Deeply.

"Ohhh, heyyyy, Y/N!" He has to yell over the sound of the music and the other party-goers, not that you would mind if you didn't hear anything he said. He hasn't got a whole lot of substance, Ram, so you can basically assume that rolling your eyes is always the answer to anything he's saying. His eyes shift back, anxiously, to the girl he's currently got a hit out on, but you just raise your eyebrows sharply at him and he's at attention. "I didn't know you were gonna come! You know, with the state of things... "

Oh, he's so obnoxious. And dumb! So, so dumb. He doesn't know the half of your shit. Yet he still runs his mouth... Rolling your eyes once again, you flip some hair behind your head. "Oh don't worry your pretty little head about that, Ram." Eyes flickering around the party some more, searching for your own target, you rest your hands on your hips that are tightly bound, in various layers of violet georgette cloth. The witches hat on your head is pinned down, so theirs no chance of it flying off. You have a train of thinner fabric hanging down the back of your short-short skirt, and your tight tube top reveals exactly the shapes you require it to. "I'll be perfectly fine- oh, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh I think I saw him and Liz against a wall earlier- but by the looks of Liz, I doubt they're in a situation like that anymore." He chuckles, dumbly. The stupid boy has a slur in his voice that you hadn't noticed before but probably should've known would be there. But you're sure focusing in on him now, jealousy burning in your eyes at his description. What does that mean??

"What?"

A geek walks by, toting a bottle in his hands that Ram snatches for himself. As the kid continues by, faster now due to the angry look in Ram's eyes and the animalistic growl that slips from the footballers lips, you continue to glare bullets at Ram. He takes a messy swig of his beer before continuing. "Just sayin', Y/N. Your friend's a prude. Won' even let Kurt get to second base with 'er or anything. So I'd say Kurt's, probably, uhhh... by the pool table, now." He shrugs big round shoulders then, as relief and mirth wash over you. So he didn't mean they'd have moved their dirty little adventure to somewhere they could really get down, or anything. He means quite the opposite.

A smirk graces your red painted lips.

"Well- enjoy your party." You shrug, not really caring as his eyes shine... turning back to the demon girl who's just laughing with her friends; He sure will. Eyes narrowing, you mutter a bitter "Dick." under your breath, as a final bid to Ram.

Turning on your heel, you head back into the house. You've been here plenty of times with Kurt and know exactly where the pool table is (And how uncomfortable it is to be bent over) and sure enough- there he is.

Your boyfriend.

Or, soon-to-be, once-again boyfriend.

He's standing back with a stick, waiting for his turn as he laughs with some over football boneheads. Lizzie isn't here, but you suppose she could have gone to get a drink or talk to one her - your, - friends, but where she is actually doesn't concern your in this moment. All you can do right now, is stand and stare.

God, he's hot.

You miss him; You really do. And, admittedly- not just because he can fuck you like no one else.

But your moment passes, and you gather your wits. Ready.

You're hot, you're smart, and you're ruthless. You can do this.

Saddling up beside Kurt, a genuine smile slips across your face as you look up at him; Running a hand back through your hair. "Hey, Kurt." Slightly widening your eyes, you raise a brow as he turns to look down at you. "What's up?"

Like- its been a while. What have I missed?

Immediate 'Oooooh's and 'Oh no the ex- Kurt watch out!'s erupt from his meathead athlete friends, but what you care about is how Kurt struggles for a moment to tear his eyes away from yours, like the eyeliner you perfected and the colour and the just- you, has hypnotised him. He flashes his friends a wicked grin, waiving them off as he turns to put his body between you, and the group. It puts you so close together- and you sure don't step back any.

Then his eyes flicker down to the rest of you- and he really has a problem looking away. "Oh, uh, hey Y/N. N-nothing much. Uh... you look... "

A gentle chuckle flutters out of you, resting a hand on your right hip. "What? Black cat caught your tongue?"

Jesus- even the mention of that particular muscle reference to him does something to you. And being this close to him again, and seeing his reaction to your outfit... its all just so right. The way things should be.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but immediately closes it again on remembering something. A seriously awkward hm sound escapes him which you don't quite get yet, but you decide that you don't need to.

"So... " You start, getting rid of the tough bravado suddenly... letting awkwardness seep into your tone; Your appearance. On purpose. Eyes downcast, you let your arms slide down to your sides again, lacing your fingers together in front of you for a moment, pretending you're at a loss for words. "Um... maybe this is... weird... "

"What?" A big hand ghosts over your hip- you can just feel his skin graze against you.

You look up to catch his gaze again suddenly, lips and eyebrows scrunching after a moment, unsurely. "Uh, well... " Chewing innocently on your bottom lip, you hold your arms behind your back; not-at-all meaning to push out your chest more. No, not at all... "Me coming up to talk to you... since the break up... "

A hiss escapes him, as he suddenly, seemingly, like just seeing you had him returning to old habits, remembers that fact himself and takes a step back from you. Your brows knit together, up at him- perfectly pitiful.

"Oh man- yeah. Maybe. Fuck!" He runs a hand up through his hair, looking convincingly tortured.

Already!

You could rejoice.

Oh, Kurt... we've only just started.

Sighing, you look away again. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... well, Kurt, I've missed you!"

Suddenly his eyes, still and focused, turn more sternly down on you and your insides squirm at it. Like muscle memory, your body screams for you to back up; Get on your knees, bat your lashes. Ask what's wrong, Daddy?

His eyes narrow, and you resist the temptation to smirk. "Oh- no. No, Y/N. I know what you're doing, okay? I'm not dumb! This is all just too... too... " The fact that he cant even really speak, even as he's trying to be all tough and put up walls between you two, really gives you confidence. You must still really have an effect on him- as you should. Of course you do. One week with a little lily livered slut bag does not erase an entire lifetime between two people. Kurts lips curl into a scowl. "You're not like this." He states, and you raise your brows. Oh? "You're manipulating me, aren't you? Come on, Y/N!"

His tone is pleading. He's begging, you.

Damn, he must really want Miss Lizzie's little ass.

After a moment, you shrug. "Okay, whatever, you got me." Shedding the innocent act, you lean back on the pool table as the boys continue to play; Laying yourself out for him. "Does that mean I was lying? No, I really do miss you."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right." Rolling his own eyes, he focuses his gaze off somewhere else in the party- rather then on you. "All you care about is your reign of terror."

Oh... he knows that's not true.

But still, if he's going to play that way- "Yeah, sure- and all you care about is pussy." Shrugging, you drum your fingers bordly against the edge of the table on either side of you. "I guess we're a pair."

"Fuck, Y/N... you know you're... y-you're... Damn, that I love you. You fucking know that." He hisses, getting mad. And you inwardly smirk.

There it is...

Tightening your grip now, you look up at him to see he's once again looking at you. And for a moment, amongst all the madness that party's are- it feels like its just you two. "And you know... I love you."

Pushing off the pool table, you stalk towards him and trace your hands up his chest; Locking your arms around his neck lazily, and resting your chest against his. And you can see it. You can see, the struggle inside him about whether to just give into you- and your tits and your lips and your hips, and- just, you! Or to stay away. Because you're poison; Even you're well aware of that fact.

You're like a boa constrictor. You get yourself wrapped around your victim and you squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze... until you have them just how you want them. Moulded into a shape that works well, for you.

But he's a lion. Imposing, and selfish, and self serving. And too big for you to ruin.

Its like you said; You're a pair.

And you cannot give him up.

"Kurt... come on." Leaning up, and talking in a quiet, just-for-him voice now, your lips brush against his and he lets out a shuddering breath. "We belong together, don't we? Its us- forever. You've known it since second grade. Sure, it took me a few more years to realise it too, but we're here now." Sincerity bleeds into your tone; Something you can't help when he looks like he wants to kiss you so badly, like that. "It can't be you and her." It cant. Tilting your head to the side, teasingly, you smirk mischievously; Just for him. "Is she going to fuck you like I do?"

"Shit... " Kurt mutters, eyes stuck on your lips. His hands find your waist, gathering you up against him roughly like he always does when he just wants you. Animalistically, wherever you are- whoever sees be fucking damned.

But he still isn't taking you. And that's a problem.

Brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you turn your head like your making out to kiss him- but don't. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look pleading at him for an answer. "Was it all a lie, then? With us? Were we?- "

And that does it- he's had enough- he's at boiling point- Lips smash into yours, crossing the centimetre of space between them and he doesn't fuss around at all, to warm up. Your tongues connect almost instantly, and in 0.2 seconds, you two are that moaning, making out mess couple that every party has.

Through your lust filled haze, you can just about feel victorious.

A few moments after that your back hits the closest wall, and your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you up- you two know the drill by now. Kurt's grinding his raging hard on deliciously through his jeans into your bare cunt- moaning and muttering something into your cheek as he sloppily makes his way down to your breasts about you being such a slut.

You REALLY don't mind.

Eyes half lidded, you catch sight of Lizzie in the crowd behind Kurt. The crowd that, apart from her, doesn't care at all what the two of you are doing.

You smirk absolutely evilly towards her, before mouthing 'mine'.

[djadins]

aurora glow | thrawn x f!reader — part one

An alien ship lands on Earth after electrical failure. You have been surviving alone, the planet being struck by an EMP-like solar flare years prior. What happens when you meet the inhabitants of this ship on your travels?

warnings: violence, explicit language, canon divergence

rating: T

word count: 2.8k

a/n: Thrawn probably is and will be OOC during this series. also, as the story progresses i’m definitely bound to get things wrong and probably accidentally add something that’s actually from star trek (so apologies!) loosely inspired by the Voyager episode ‘Gravity’ and a book I recently finished!

You saw the crash before you heard the explosion.

It had been a long time since something had lit up the sky that wasn’t the moon, sun or auroras. You weren’t very far away from the crash site, you could tell. Although, admittedly, you were still bad at measuring distances. It was on your way southbound anyways - as it was fall, and winter and the first snow would be fast approaching.

You arms tightened around the smooth handle of your walking stick, one of your favorite found items. You preferred to think of them in this manner, rather than “looting” or “stealing”. Could they even be considered that if their owner was no longer there to use them? You didn’t think so, at least.

It took twenty minutes before you were close enough to see the smoke rising out of the giant space... ship. You felt a shudder rip through your body. You know exactly what you saw but it was still a concept you had to wrap your brain around. Believing for nearly your whole life that out there, somewhere, other life had to exist... and actually seeing it with your own eyes were two different things.

You instinctually began walking lower to the ground, closer to the shrubbery and trees, checking your hip for the well hidden, small 9mm you kept on you at all times. You knew you had few bullets left and would not use it unless you really needed to. There was a knife in the inside of your boot that you would try to use instead but only if the situation called for it.

You could make out many white, helmeted figures from here. At least, you assumed that was armor and not their actual bodies. There was also one, deep, calm voice alongside a fair amount of shouting that you couldn’t quite see. You walked in a semi circle, closer to the voices. There was a lot of brush, thankfully, that you could hide yourself in.

When you were close enough to see the event that was unfolding, you instinctively held your breath. There was the spaceship, in all her glory, smoking and partially buried in the ground. You were surprised there wasn’t more outward and obvious damage, but you weren’t sure of the full extent of the electrical failure or how far from the planet it had reach. Many of those white figures were scattered around, holding some sort of weapon in the direction of the action.

The shouting figures, which were now only a few feet from you, were holding weapons you recognized. Even with their backs fully or partially turned from you, you could tell that the three of them were human. Two men, who had their weapons pointed towards select armored white aliens, and one woman. She had a short-barreled shotgun that was pointed at the tallest of the aliens.

His crimson eyes caught your attention first and you released your breath at the sight of them. They were dark, reminding you of the Red Delicious apples you had stored in your pack. His vibrant blue skin contrasted harshly against his eyes and his pitch colored hair and uniform. His hair was short and slicked back but a few strands were hanging over his face. He seemed humanoid apart from his angular face, but even with that, if he wasn’t blue he might actually pass for human.

You realized the woman wasn’t shouting at him, but the uniformed men around him. Their weapons were pointed at the three humans but they were taking no action.

“We want all the food and supplies out of that ship, now!” she shouted. “If we don’t get it in five minutes, I’ll take big blue here down!”

You were close enough to see the jaw in the tall blue alien’s mouth tighten. He pinched his lips together tightly before responding in a cool, calm voice. “As I have already stated, my men will not respond to your demands. Neither will I, for that matter.”

The woman began shouting again. You bit your lip and wondered if you had gone mad for what you were considering doing. You didn’t even give yourself time to think if this was the smart move before you picked up the palm-sized rock that was on the ground beside you. There was a large, wooden warehouse on your right where one of the human men had been standing beside, weapon ready. You were about 30 feet away from it from your current position.

You wound your arm back and threw that rock with everything you had. It smashed through a wood panel, making a sharp cracking noise. All heads momentarily turned, except for the blue alien, who’s line of sight was now firmly focused in your direction. You had already taken off from the bushes, walking stick in hand, when you realized he was looking directly at you.

While everyone else’s attention was still focused on the dilapidated warehouse, you spun your walking stick behind your back and then quickly whipped it back in front of you, hitting the woman with the shotgun square in the head. Your walking stick shattered where it connected with her. She crashed into the ground with a bloodcurdling scream and you grabbed the shotgun she dropped. All eyes were now on you as you pointed it at her.

“Drop your weapons, you two,” you yelled, partially out of breath, eyes still focused on the woman on the ground. You poked her with the barrel of the gun. “Tell them,” you warned her.

She nodded her head and looked around at the two men. You heard the familiar crunch of grass as the two weapons were dropped, but your eyes were still focused on her. Then you heard the shrieks of the men and a sickening crunching sound that followed. Two of the white armored men now approached either side of you, weapons drawn. The blue alien was still silent, but he put his hand up towards his men. They lowered their weapons instantly.

He motioned for you to back up and you did just that. The two armored men flung their weapons behind their backs and went towards the woman on the ground. They restrained her before you finally drew your attention fully to the tall man in front of you. He had stepped closed to you now that you were hanging onto the shotgun with one loose hand, the barrel almost brushing against the grass.

He held a large, cerulean hand out to you. His eyes had seemed to lighten. “If I may,” he started, “it will take my men off edge.”

You nodded and passed the weapon over to him. He held it in both hands, studying it for a moment, before handing it to one of his men.

“Why did you betray your people?”

You looked from his hands back up to his eyes, your voice suddenly gone.

You bit your lip and looked around you, fully realizing the situation you had now put yourself in.

A handful of the armored men had restrained the three humans but the rest were looking at you and the alien. They still had their weapons drawn, and although they weren’t pointed in your direction, you knew that they easily could be.

“Th.. they weren’t my people,” you stammered, looking back into his vibrant eyes.

He tilted his head slightly. “Hmm.” He took his time, looking you up and down before doing the same to them. “They resemble you. Are you of a different race?”

“N.. no. I, uh,” you struggled on how to explain. You bit your lip again. “We are all humans, from this planet, yes. But I do not know them personally.”

Another hmm escaped his lips as you wondered how on this good earth you could even understand what he was saying to you. “I am still perplexed,” he admitted. “What would compel you to help me?”

You looked down at your feet after he asked you this. You honestly weren’t sure what surged through you in what had only happened moments earlier. You looked back up at him, directly in his eyes. “I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I have never seen an alien before and I didn’t want you to think we were all bad.”

His eyebrows scrunched together at your response, giving you what you could only describe as a quizzical look. It was as if he was trying to figure you out entirely by solely examining you. He took a step towards you.

“You have never met another who wasn’t from your own planet?”

You shook you head. “Before the blackout, it was a widely debated topic whether or not there was extraterrestrial life somewhere in space.”

He smiled at your response. “Well, I’m happy to inform you, there are many different life forms, spread across millions of light years.”

He watched your eyes light up at this statement. You couldn’t help but look up at the sky above you. You felt infinitesimally small in that moment.

“I am Thrawn, Captain of the Thunder Wasp.”

You looked back at him and gave your name.

“I am unsure of how your people greet one another, however it is a pleasure, nonetheless.”

You held you hand out towards him without thinking at his response. Some of his men tightened their grip on their weapons at your action and you flinched. He looked towards them and shook his head. He slowly mimicked your action, bringing his hand out but not quite touching you.

You grasped his hand, slow enough that he could pull back if he was uncomfortable. You looked in his eyes and smiled, slowly shaking his hand up and down. His hand was large, enveloping yours easily. He was incredibly warm to the touch. “Nice to meet you, Captain.”

He caught on to your action, bringing his hand up and down in a synchronous motion with you. When you both released your light grip, he smiled back at you. “Please, Thrawn is sufficient. I am not your commanding officer, but a visitor to your planet.”

After this interaction, Thrawn’s men separated, leaving the two of you to yourselves. There were still four guards with the other humans and only then did you bring your attention to them.

“Dirty bitch,” the woman spat at you and as soon as she did, one of the guards knocked her in the back of the head. A shudder ripped through your body after witnessing this.

Thrawn called out your name and you focused your attention back to him. “If I could borrow you a moment, I have some questions I would like to ask.”

You shook your head in affirmation. He turned on his heel, hands firmly clasped behind his back as he walked towards his ship. You left your walking stick on the ground as you followed behind him.

The ship was tilted sideways slightly, it’s nose buried in the ground while it’s backside was raised a little above. You approached the side of the ship, where two of his soldiers were standing in position beside a door.

At the Captain’s approach, they grasped what appeared to be suction cups on each individual door. The pulled and the door split open in the middle and Thrawn walked towards it, taking a large step up into the ship easily with his elongated legs. Upon realizing you would struggle a lot more to get in than he would, he bent down and reached a hand out towards you.

You didn’t hesitate as you put your hand into his and one foot on the floor of the ship. It was angled just above your waist and you could feel the stretch burn the back of your thigh. The sensation didn’t last long as Thrawn hoisted you into the ship, seemingly using little energy on his part. He dropped your hand as soon as you were steady and the doors were manually shut behind you.

The corridors were lit with dim red lights along the wall. Shadows bounced as you and Thrawn navigated through the ship. His skin looked almost iridescent in here.

You followed him through many different corridors until he paused in front of a door. He pulled a card out from somewhere in his uniform that he swiped against the panel next to the door and it slide open automatically. Same at the doors outside, just without someone manually pulling it apart.

You looked around as you followed behind him. You were in a large room that resembled an office and had another closed door leading to somewhere else along the wall. There were many different pieces of what you would describe as art scattered through the room along with a giant desk. It had two large, comfortable looking chairs settled on either side.

Thrawn pulled out the chair that had its back facing the door you had just entered, clearly made for whoever was visiting the owner of this desk, which you could only assume was the man in front of you himself. Once you had settled in the chair, which threatened to swallow you whole, Thrawn settled into the seat across from you.

He started by asking you what exactly you had meant by the ‘blackout’ you had mentioned earlier. You did your best to explain what little you knew of it, telling him that a few years prior the sun had sent out a solar flare strong enough to act as an EMP, effectively wiping out all electronics, everywhere, and sending humans back to the stone age. Thrawn listened to you intently, without interruptions as you did your best to work through what information you had gathered through the years. You ended your long explanation by telling him that approximately once every 30 days, another solar flare would hit the Earth for roughly 12 hours and restore most of the electronics during that time. You could tell it was approaching by the aurora that would brighten the sky the night before.

You both sat silently as Thrawn chewed through the information you had just given him. Finally, he simply said, “That explains some things.”

You waited patiently for his next question while he formulated it. You had trouble keeping your eyes off of him, but didn’t want to come off as rude, so you looked around the room every once in a while.

Thrawn called out your name softly while you were staring at a painting situated over his left shoulder. If it wasn’t eerily silent on the ship, you might not have heard it. You looked over at him. He was examining you as if you were that painting hung on the wall. Finally, after a minute that seemed like an hour, he asked what your plans were.

“Well, winter is fast approaching. I aim to keep heading south where it will be warm during the season.” You looked down at your feet. “I have found it best to keep migrating through the years. Staying in one place invites danger,” you practically whispered.

“Are you all alone?”

You held back the emotional outburst that threatened to rip through you at that question. You shook your head in confirmation.

“How long?”

You swallowed hard. “7, maybe 8 seasons.”

You could feel Thrawn’s pity even if you weren’t looking at him, even though if you had looked at him you would have only outwardly seen stoicism.

“When do you expect the next flare to hit?” he asked you after a few silent moments.

You looked up at him for the first time in a while. His red eyes were soft, the color nearly washed out compared to the first time you saw him. He had folded his hands on top of his desk and was hunched over — or what a military man like him probably considered hunched over. His back was still pretty stick straight.

You pondered his question. “If I had to guess, 10... maybe 12 days. I don’t keep track very well anymore and sometimes it doesn’t follow an exact pattern. But it always happens, eventually.”

Thrawn nodded. “Would you be willing to stay with us while we repair the ship?”

Your mouth fell open. Sensing your confusion he added, “You are the only one who knows this planet, we could use your expertise.”

You bit your lip so hard you tasted metal.

Thrawn continued, voice near a whisper. “I will take you off this dying planet in return.”

His transition from ‘us’ to ‘I’ didn’t go unnoticed by you. You still sat there, silently processing his question.

You took a sharp breath in and let it out shakily. Tears prickled at your eyes.

How could you leave the only home you had ever known, if Thrawn and his men could even get their ship working again in the first place?

How could you survive out there, in space? A place you didn’t know... none of your people really knew, where you didn’t belong.

Where would you go? What would you do?

But you had no one and nothing left here.

You gave him your answer and you could have swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in response.

[beautifulsnake2162020]

Ikevamp headcanons after watching Hamilton

Quick disclaimer: Yes I know this is a show about people who had owned slaves and slavery is bad. Having said that there's a reason why we suspend disbelief for a couple of hours and just allow ourselves to be swept into the story. I also love Phantom of the Opera but I also am aware that this is a story that involves an abusive and toxic relationship. The point is that I am aware that there are problems that needs to be discussed, but I still love the music, the story and the shows okay. This is just fan content not meant to be taken seriously and is just for fun. Okay? Now let's proceed.

I'll be doing Will and Arthur first since I'm currently doing Shakespeare's route and was inspired to do this after MC watches Romeo and Juliet with Vincent and I was wondering how Will would react to watching Hamilton. And Arthur is here because he is my husband/main lover. I might do Mozart and Napoleon next.

SPOILER ALERT: For anyone who hasn't seen the Disney Plus version of Hamilton, there might be some spoilers here (unless you already saw the show or know the story that is).

General Scenario:

You don't know how but Le Comte was able to get the filmed version of Hamilton, a musical which you've told Sebastian that you've been dying to see but was never able to because tickets were always sold out and entering the lottery was going to be a little too expensive for someone who lives in Japan and who doesn't exactly have the money or the time to simply fly to New York if in case she won. You were also excited because apparently Le Comte was able to modify the 21st century tech room that you use for your online classes and was able to get a wide screen and high quality surround sound which made you appreciate his efforts. A part of you was also curious as to how the other residents would react. You were scared that some of them might take offense, especially Napoleon who knew one of the characters in the show in real life. Would they react weirdly for seeing people different from them portray people that they knew? You were also wondering if they might even appreciate some of the 21st century slang that you and Sebastian would sometimes slip back into whenever it was just the two of you alone. After talking it out with everyone and explaining a few more things (like how its probably going to be different since it is a series of captured pictures-or at least that's your closest analogy- being played super fast with the synchronized sound of the actors- or what you were almost tempted to call "Techno Magic") during a dinner in which Shakespeare had decided to be present in, they were actually interested in what this show is about. Napoleon convinced you that he's fine and actually someone else playing Lafayette might even help with the suspension of disbelief since its been awhile since he has last met him anyway. Will even mentioned that while he has read and heard about stories from America, this is probably going to be the first story or production he's going to see from it. The only one who showed any hesitation - to no one's surprise - was Mozart, since he is attached to the kind of music he is familiar with (aren't we all?). But after prodding from both Jean, Le Comte and you giving him the puppy eyes, he finally relents. The day comes when everyone was once again free and for practicality everyone decided to have a meal first so that they won't be hungry during the show and also for you, Le Comte, and Sebastian to explain a few things everyone else may need to know to truly appreciate the show (like how the Presidential system and elections worked during the setting, what the word "Rewind" means, what is beatboxing, etc). So finally everyone gathered into the tech room after the meal, the lights were dimmed and once everyone was settled, you hit play. And as self-predicted of you, you find yourself crying in the end.

William Shakespeare (I'm still doing his route so please don't hate me if I get him wrong. Also no spoilers please).

- He was a bit shocked at first by how exactly up close you could see the facial expressions of the actors as well as the various ways it would cut to another person. He could now understand why you struggled with trying to explain how its played in a theatre but not exactly like the theatrical experience. But as you saw in your periphery, by the time Philippa Soo sings her first line, Will had already adjusted and allowed himself to be an audience and shut off his director and actor mindset (for the most part at least).

- While he didn't specialize in musicals, he found himself paying attention to the story of "the ten dollar founding father without a father." He knows how music could help both the actors and the audience in succumbing to their emotions in a scene and to suspend disbelief from reality. In his productions the words are not overwhelmed by any score but rather complemented to bring out the emotion he wants to evoke and for actors to show. Since many parts of the show has been influenced by the spoken word style without completely removing it from being sung, he has become enlightened with how powerful a show can be when it is done right.

- He not only enjoyed the story (especially the flow of it) and the production (especially some of the more technical details that the other residents hadn't noticed as far as a stage production is concerned), he loved that even the ensemble members had good acting and some of the onstage humor. One of the meta things he enjoyed was the obvious reference to his most superstitious work.

- Once you've seen how he loves analyzing the technical details of the production, you excitedly tell him about a special member of the ensemble who is known as "The bullet" among fans of the show. You could see him being enlightened as he watches the show with you again (this time with just the two of you) and he now sees "the bullet" and the way she interacts with the characters in a whole different light. He was so impressed with this idea that he may have adapted it into one of his new original plays (its not a copy paste of Hamilton's "bullet" but he definitely adapted assigning a member of the ensemble to have a special role that may not be significant at first, but he heavily notes that this member would have to be unique in interacting with any of the other characters).

- He didn't know what to expect from a 21st Century production but he found himself impressed with the prose and writing of various raps and songs. His favorite from Act 1 in terms of rhyme schemes was "Right Hand Man" and from Act 2 it was Jefferson's rap in "Washington by your side". And after settling down a bit his favorite emotional parts were "History has its eyes on you", "Hurricane", and "It's quiet uptown".

- He was impressed with how the double roles was given and how it actually is true for both of their roles in both acts. Ambiguity is one of his favorite things to have in a work, and he gives props to Lin for all the ambiguity he later realizes was in several parts of the show. If he and Arthur had been a little bit more closer, they probably would have bonded over the ambiguity Hamilton's comma in his letter to Angelica (see kids, grammar matters).

- A part of his brain wonders how the real life Hamilton would react to this and if him and Burr would still be enemies. But after some thinking he decides its not worth his efforts of asking anyone to bring them back since a wonderful production of their life has already been made even if it may not necessarily reflect who they truly are. He of all people knew what it's like to be inspired by great figures, it was fortunate that Lin Manuel Miranda decided to make a show about them before he had the chance to.

- You explain that in America Hamilton is one of the lesser known founding fathers of their nation and how it may be because his political opponents later on became Presidents and therefore was able to form the narrative. He becomes inspired by it and begins to search out people or stories who are hidden gems who may not be historically famous but had much more interesting stories than some of the ones he has heard of.

- Afterwards once you are sure that he has gotten comfortable enough with the genre you show him various videos of people rapping to his works and his reactions range from impressed to amused to "that's not what I mean when I wrote that" and you had to calm him down and explain that they can't hear him anyway after he started giving serious critiques on what the text means.

Arthur Conan Doyle

- While he was knowledgeable about many things, America's founding fathers was not one of them. He along with the other residents have gotten used to any rumors or exaggerated accounts of their lives and you and Sebastian have already warned that this is just a fictionalized production of the real person. As a writer of some historical fiction books he argued that he of all people was aware that any work based on history will speak more about the creators rather than the actual people they are writing about most of the time. He was nevertheless interested as to why you have become fascinated with the treasury secretary (and maybe it was with a twinge of jealousy that you began to expressly show admiration to another man even if he wasn't among the residents in the mansion). After all unlike many other residents of the mansion, on the surface it seemed that Hamilton was similar to Theo who mainly played a supporting but crucial role to his brother. He was thankful that you didn't hold it against him and was comforted that you were in a similar place. You even told him that the only thing you really knew about Hamilton before listening to the soundtrack and watching "Animatics" was that he was in the ten dollar American bill.

- And as someone who has delved into writing historical fictions, this was probably one of the most entertaining productions about a historical figure he has seen. He's going to be honest with you in that at first he was wondering if revealing Burr shot Hamilton in the opening was going to hinder him from enjoying the show; but he was pleasantly surprised that this was not the case at all. As a matter of fact it now made him want to find out who the real Hamilton was (although a part of him doubts if the real Hamilton had any regrets at all). According to him, this is why as a fictionalized historical work, the show is a success because it makes you want to find out more about the events and figures of the story (even if it means looking at darker realities that they did). And while the real Hamilton may be a lot different from what was shown, with all the things he went through and all the things he has done (for better or worse), he now wonders why exactly Le Comte hadn't approached him since he seems to be no better or worse than the average resident ("He and Newt could probably discuss mathematics all day."). You then explained that his political rivals (Jefferson and Madison from the show, and Monroe who wasn't shown in the musical) had later on become Presidents and was able to shape the narrative away from Hamilton. "Ron Chernow made Hamilton's biography because he was the lesser known founding father who was fading into obscurity among Americans and Lin read the book and recognized the story of someone who has risen through his writings. And to Lin that was also the story of hiphop." While he wasn't involved in politics as much as Hamilton was, Arthur had enough experience to know what it feels like to have those kinds of people in power. He also knows just how powerful it is to be in "the room where it happened" and how sometimes the real decisions weren't being made in an office but rather in either a private party or the right bar when people in power had their guard down and were more susceptible to being influenced.

- He could relate a lot with Hamilton on many things that he's only comfortable allowing either you or Theo to see. From being just so much more aware of death's inevitability coming for every living thing to survivor's guilt even though a part of him knows its irrational (but sometimes the emotional nonsense just overtakes our perspectives and actions). It's why he could understand Hamilton's need to write as much as he can before he dies. It's why for a time in his human life he had deviated from writing about Holmes and ventured into other genres. He could also relate to the need to prove what type of person he was, and how to go beyond his tragedies to serve people in their own ways. Hamilton did it as a soldier and the creator of America's financial system. And he is doing it as an informally practicing doctor and as a writer. It's a need that he's trying to mitigate since you've repeatedly told him that he doesn't need to prove anything to you or to anyone and to write whatever he pleases. But he also can't deny that it's still somewhere lodged in the back of his head.

- Just like William Shakespeare, in terms of the wordplay found in rap and the ambiguity present in the show and how those things were executed made him amazed and momentarily speechless. He was especially fanboying about "The comma after dearest" and how this essentially shows how important grammar was. It went to the extent that afterwards whenever he would write to you he would address you either as "My dearest, Y/N" or "My darling, Y/N" with special emphasis on the comma (sometimes you could see how there's more ink in the comma than some of the actual words. That's how much he wants to emphasize that you hold the title of dearest or darling). And you excitedly share with him some of the trivia knowledge of the show (like how in real life it was Angelica who originally made the comma mistake by writing to Hamilton as "My dear, sir" in one of her letters and it was Hamilton who was asking her what the comma means and even replied with "Ma chere, soeur") and how Angelica really did reference the Icarus metaphor in one of her letters to Eliza. And even though he wasn't a major musical nerd (he sang for fun), he would now join you in watching Howard Ho's Hamilton videos musically analyzing Hamilton (and would probably try to find a way to use this knowledge to annoy Mozart in some way).

- Speaking of music: Maybe it's because he's biased in his love for you but aside from Sebastian he's probably the one who has no qualms about the hiphop genre and was immediately into the various wordplays that rapping allowed. And because of this his favorite characters in terms of rapping are the ones played by Daveed Diggs (probably more than Hamilton himself even though you've explained that Lin is the one who wrote the whole thing). He even adapts to how Daveed as Jefferson would say Isaac's third law and incorporated it into his "let's tease Newton" kit. That's when you know he really loves Daveed Diggs ("Every action has an equal opposite -" "WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING IT THAT WAY?! I didn't mind the first few times but this is ridiculous Arthur" "It must be nice, it must be nice to have a Newton on your side"). And his favorite character emotionally was Angelica (her raps in Schuyler Sisters and Satisfied may have helped).

- Speaking of the Schuyler Sisters, after watching it with you another time (this time with just the two of you) one of his favorite things to say is that you've got the best of all three sisters within you (Angelica's wittiness and intelligence, Eliza's cares for the more important things in life, and Peggy's humor) with the sexiness of Maria Reynolds. But because he sees all 4 of them in you he has the benefit of not needing to choose among them. Having said that there will be a period wherein he teases you if he makes you "Helpless" or "Satisfied" (and you respond either by kissing him or singing "That would be enough").

- Whenever you would sing as one of the Schuyler sisters he will join you as any of the male characters the moment he masters the soundtrack and could even sing it without the music. His favorite rap songs are "Guns and Ships", "Washington on your side", and of course "Satisfied". He also really loves "Non-stop", "the 10 duel commandments", and "The room where it happened". But his favorite sequence is from "the Winter's Ball" all the way to "Wait for it". Since it has romance, a shocking revelation, and gives insight to the perspective of the antagonist. He's also one of the first people to attempt to learn the choreography whenever he's in one of his mental blocks in writing. Of course he makes sure not to injure himself.

- He posts song lyrics to keep himself motivated in his times of mental block "There's a million things I haven't done. But just you wait" and "I'm not throwing away my shot" frequently appear around his desk.

-And whenever he's feeling low or insecure, just like Eliza you remind him to "Look around, Look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now."

[stydiaeverafter]

One Bed, Two Hearts, Three Nights

Summary: Buck and Eddie share more than just a bed in Texas; they share their feelings.

It's been a while since I've written for our boys! I've missed them. With the new season starting and all the new content for the 911 Crossover and Buck Begins, I've been feeling inspired. @reachgirl made a post about a bed sharing fic idea, and being a person who loves this particular trope, I was happy to oblige. This fic will have 3 parts. I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Xo.

Read on ao3

***

Chapter One: 1st Night —

Buck was beyond exhausted as the 118 finally made their way to a small motel close to the wildfire.

As Bobby went up to the counter, talking to the lady at the front desk, Buck couldn't help but take in his best friend.

How could someone manage to still look so damn good after a day of putting out fires? That was the thing, though; he always did.

Buck couldn't help the thoughts that were popping into his mind, any more than the feelings that had risen.

He concluded that he had fallen for his best friend years ago. When exactly, he wasn't sure. But there they were, and he wasn't sure what to do with them.

Buck had started noticing when they had spent time together quarantining. During a dark time of the unknown, Buck had found comfort in staying with Eddie and Christopher. It felt so natural being together as if a light bulb went off in his brain, screaming, this is what you've been waiting for!

They had cooked together, watch movies together, fallen asleep near each other on the couch, and shared lingering glances, to the point where Buck started to question if Eddie was feeling the same way as he was.

Buck and Eddie hardly talked about romance, especially after Abby and Shannon. They kept to themselves about all that. That wasn't what their friendship was based around. So Buck wasn't even sure if Eddie could ever see him in that way. Hell, he had been surprised himself. Growing up, he knew he was bisexual, but he hid it away. His father wasn't an accepting man for anything different from the norm he wanted to display—the perfect family image. So Buck, unfortunately, had suppressed that part of him deep down underneath everything that made him, him.

It was only when being around Eddie that that part of him was revealed once more.

The two of them had always been tighter than tight, but this felt different somehow, and spending endless time with Christopher? A huge bonus. He loved that kid more than life itself.

One night when they had been playing Monopoly, Christopher had accidentally called Buck dad. Eddie had looked startled but not as surprised as Buck had felt in that moment. But the feeling brought a sense of ease that all was right in the world. It felt natural and right, something Buck had dreamed about for most of his life. He could still remember Eddie's expression as his astonishment had shifted into what seemed like happiness at Christopher's following giggle.

Buck also recalled a particular evening when it had been stormy, and the power had gone out. Eddie had lit candles around the house, and the two of them shared a couple of drinks as they chatted in the darkness. At one point, their fingers had touched, and they held each other's gaze for what felt like a lifetime. Eddie had seemed to want to say something to him, just like he had wanted to express to Eddie how he was feeling, but Christopher had gotten scared from the thunder and interrupted them. Eddie, being the amazing father he was, had stopped everything so he could be there for his son.

Buck had to love him for it.

They hadn't finished the conversation in the days to come, because then Cap had said they could return to their homes. Buck, of course, had been disappointed, but he didn't want to overstay his welcome, especially because Chimney was asking to stay with him, wanting to make sure Maddie and their baby would be safe. How could he have said no to that?

So here Buck was, sitting in a grimy motel looking at his best friend, who he was madly in love with and not knowing how to move forward.

Eddie looked exhausted as he laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Buck realized his hand was moving towards his friend, wanting to touch his face. Quickly, he moved it down by his side, stuffing his palm into his pocket.

Bobby walked over, actual room keys in hand, "Alright, because the firefighters are in town helping with the fire, they're limited on space. I hope you all don't mind, but we'll be getting a bit cozy for the next couple of days. Chimney and I will room together in a two-bed bedroom. Hen, you'll have an adjoining room, but to yourself." Bobby looked over at Buck and Eddie, "And because I know you two are close, I figured you wouldn't mind sharing a bed. At least, I hope you don't mind, that's all they had left."

Buck noticed Eddie stiffen, and he couldn't ignore the way his own heart was hammering against his chest.

Unfortunately, there had been some unspoken tension between them as of late, which was making things a bit awkward between them. Buck was unsure if it was his energy or the two of them combined.

Way to make me confront my feelings, Cap...

Clearing his throat, Eddie shook his head, "Nah, we don't mind, do we, Buck?"

"Not at all." ***

"It smells like sulfur in here," Eddie said, squinting his nose.

"Isn't that just the way Texas smells?" Buck laughed as he put his duffle bag on the bed.

Eddie looked over at his friend and chuckled, "No, Buck, it's not. But don't go out there saying that; you might get a bullet in your behind for dissing the state."

Not that he had looked at Buck's ass or anything.

Okay, that was a blatant lie. Of course, Eddie had looked. How could he not?

The guy was hotter than the fires they put out daily.

"I agree though, it stinks in here," Buck replied. "That or it's me." He lifted up his arm to smell his pit and winced, "I need to get this dirt off my body."

Do you need help? "Yeah, go for it."

"You sure?"

Eddie nodded awkwardly towards the bathroom, "I'll get the second shower."

Buck walked towards the bathroom and leaned out the door with that familiar grin, "I can't promise I'll save you any hot water."

"Okay, and I can't promise that I won't kick you off the bed in my sleep," Eddie responded with a wink.

"Duly noted," Buck chuckled as he closed the door.

As Eddie could hear Buck's clothes hit the floor and the water start, his heart started pounding. Get a grip, Diaz.

Then again, if he hadn't been able to control it during quarantine, there was no hope for the next few nights when sharing a bed.

Damn his feelings.

Eddie had thought he had been a certain way all his life, so it surprised him when he felt a sexual awakening for the guy after spending more time with him.

He had mistaken it as a deepened friendship. That all changed when he had stared at Buck's lips, wanting a taste.

Shaking his head, Eddie pulled out his phone and called Chris, who was currently staying with Carla.

After exchanging some pleasantries with Carla, she handed him the phone, "Hi, daddy!'

Eddie smiled, "Hey, buddy, how you doin'?"

"Good! We made breakfast for dinner."

"Ooo, my favorite! I wish I could be there. Pancakes and eggs?"

"Mmhmm, with chocolate sauce," Chris replied with a giggle.

"Sounds good, but make sure you eat some veggies and don't forget your vitamins," Eddie said, raising an eyebrow. He stated it, but he knew Carla was a saint; she always took the best care of his boy, even getting a COVID test so she could stay with him. He was so blessed to have her in their lives, thanks to Buck, of course.

Someday he'd thank the guy for everything.

"Tell your dad that I've got it covered, baby," Carla's voice exclaimed in the background.

"Did you hear her?" Chris asked.

"I sure did, tell her she's the captain in charge, and I trust her."

As his son relayed the message, he wished he could give Christopher a big hug. It was crazy how much he missed him even after just one day.

"How's Buck doing?"

Eddie looked towards the bathroom door, "He's good. We've been busy out there trying to get this fire to stop. It's been a lot of work for us."

"You're both superheroes!"

His son, the angel.

"We're proud to do it."

"Well, I'm proud of you and Buck, tell him, okay?"

"I'll tell Buck, I promise," Eddie responded with a nod.

"Tell me what?"

Eddie looked over and saw Buck standing by the bathroom, steam coming out through the cracked door like the smoke of the fire.

God damn. Eddie swallowed at the sight of the towel around Buck's waist. His muscles were still wet, and his hair was perfectly messy. Eddie forced himself to look away.

"Christopher was just telling me to tell you he's proud of us for the work we're doing out here," Eddie answered with a sheepish grin.

Buck's face lit up, in the way it always did when he was around Chris. "Can I talk to him for a minute?"

Eddie nodded, standing up, "Of course. I better get in the shower anyway so we can get some sleep." Buck walked up to him, and Eddie prayed the towel would somehow fall off on his way over, which were totally inappropriate thoughts to be having. He turned his focus back to his son, "Hey, Chris, Buck wants to talk to you, okay?"

When his son cheered, Buck laughed, clearly hearing it.

"Talk to you tomorrow, son. Sleep well."

"Night, Daddy," Chris replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Eddie stated, his heart feeling full. "Here's Buck."

He handed Buck the phone, and their fingers touched. For a moment, they just stared at each other, Eddie realizing how close they were standing.

It was electrifying.

This same thing had happened when they were quarantining together. That was the night Eddie wanted to express his feelings, even though he had been afraid to potentially change their relationship. But he never had the chance to tell Buck; he wondered if he ever would.

Buck bit his lip, and Eddie could hear how shakily he inhaled.

Stepping away hurt, but his son was waiting on the other end of the line. But it was those moments that Eddie felt as though Buck had feelings for him, too.

Buck sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through his wet hair, "Hey buddy! I miss you!"

Eddie reached into his bag, getting a pair of thin workout pants out. He looked for his shirt to wear to bed and swore internally because he realized he had forgotten it.

As he walked to the bathroom, he paused and looked over at Buck, who was in deep conversation about the new game Christopher had played. It always warmed Eddie's heart to see the connection between his son and his best friend.

Closing the door, he realized that he was one of the lucky ones.

***

Buck loved talking to Christopher; it was just what he had needed tonight. After the grueling work they'd performed all day, the sweet innocence of that child made him feel like he had been embraced with ease and comfort.

He sat for a moment on the bed, not moving after ending the call, and thought about what had just transpired between him and Eddie.

There had been a spark—Buck had felt it.

His fingers still hummed from the touch of Eddie.

God, he wanted more. He craved more.

This type of desire for another was unlike anything Buck had ever experienced.

As he looked down at his hand, Buck realized he wanted to tell Eddie how he felt. Sure, it was scary as hell, but having these feelings and not acting on them after all this time, was freaking killing him.

Buck didn't want to be afraid anymore. He had been talking to his therapist not to hide away from feelings—something Buck had done most of his life.

He sighed as he changed into his sweat bottoms and a tank top, regretting his life choices as the humidity of a wet towel lingered around his body; he couldn't wait to get back to California.

Buck turned the AC as low as he could, hearing the rumble it started making. "Lovely," he muttered.

Eddie opened the door and raised an eyebrow, "What the hell is that noise?"

Buck's reply was all but lost on him as he took Eddie in, wearing his tight workout bottoms and his chiseled bare chest.

Holy crap... how was he going to function for the rest of the night, especially lying next to this Adonis?

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I had to crank the AC on to deal with this god awful humidity."

"And here I thought you could handle the heat," Eddie smirked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

If Eddie were flirting with him, he'd take it and give it right back.

"You know I can handle a lot," he replied, moving closer to his friend, "but sometimes a man can only take so much." Buck rolled his hand down his shirt, feeling the sweat already pressing through.

Eddie's eyes followed his hand as they traveled down, but then Eddie looked towards the single queen bed, "C'mon, let's get some sleep. We've gotta be up in a few hours."

Guess that was the end of that.

"Roger that."

As they got into bed, Buck's body was vibrating, shaking with anxious anticipation.

Eddie switched the light off and muttered as he turned away from Buck, "Good night."

"Night, Eddie."

They laid there for what felt like an eternity, and Buck felt more awake than ever.

The mixture of humidity and Eddie's body heat so close was overwhelming. Buck wanted to move further away to catch his breath, but he also wanted to straddle the guy.

What a predicament.

He flipped back-and-forth, trying to get not only comfortable but hoping to turn off his thoughts for a while.

Finally, he just sat staring at the ceiling, hearing sirens somewhere outside. They were still going strong on the fire—that would be them soon enough.

Buck had to get some sleep; his safety and his team's depended on it. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

"Buck?"

His eyes popped open. He turned his head towards Eddie, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay over there?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you're flopping around like the omelet my son had for dinner," Eddie mumbled sleepily.

Buck laughed without humor at the ridiculousness of wanting his best friend so badly. "I'm fine, sorry about that. Can't seem to get comfortable."

"It is a tiny bed. I can scoot over more if you want, though?"

As Eddie started to shift over more, Buck grabbed his arm on impulse, feeling his thick muscles, "No, no, it's okay. You don't need to do that."

"Well, if it's the heat, you might wanna lose your fleece sweat pants."

Buck bit his lip at what Eddie was implying. He attempted to make his comment light, "You'd know with your hometown experience I suppose."

"Mmhmm."

"Okay, that might help. If you don't mind, of course."

"Why would I mind?" Eddie asked, turning over to look at Buck through the darkness.

"Uh, I dunno. Just wanted to be respectful is all."

"Buck, we've known each other for a long time. You taking off your pants won't offend me," Eddie said. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "Believe me."

"Okay, okay, I'll take off my pants then." Buck smiled as he stood up, removing his pants and then his shirt. All that was left was his boxer briefs. It was both a relief and a turn on, especially as he noticed Eddie watching him.

Eddie rolled over onto his stomach and chuckled, "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me for it."

"I do."

The words halted Buck in his tracks, and he just sat there.

I do.

Eddie looked at him while he was stuck being frozen, "Buck? What is it?"

I do.

Buck exhaled as he lowered himself back into bed, "It's nothing." It was everything.

He maneuvered under the sheets and put his hands behind his head, exhaling loudly.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Buck replied, closing his eyes.

The problem was, he just didn't know where to start.

[malkaleh]

1, 2 for meta asks

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project: There’s a part in Golden World that I’m like I Want This To Happen So Much. There’s also a part that’s Pain but will also be a thing I really want to get to. I cannot say more because spoilers but OH OH IT MAKES ME HAPPY.

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Okay. I’ll go in bullet points under a read more.

Tudors

Iphigenia (the OT3 verse version of Iphigenia by @reganx2 which I should summarise to @pearlsthatwereeyes as ‘what if Iphigenia but the daughter lives + the shitty dad gets his after [redacted] to her children): I finally figured out that it need an addition to the current last chapter chapter and then an epilogue that’s like 20 years later because the lovely people over at @cosmonauthill’s Discord Server helped me figure a thing out.

Golden World (the Tudors OT3 Universe 1547 - [redacted] in which we meet Mihrimah Sultan, Princess of Wales, seeds are planted, golden worlds are building and some people are shit): I am so stuck on this particular chapter UGH. Possibly I should just skip it for a bit or something but I kind of need this chapter and the subsequent one(s) to set up things for a time skip and the later part of the story but my brain is like U SUCK U WILL GET IT WRONG so I have to wrangle it into shape. This is

Let Us Dream (Modern AU OT3 Romance Dot Gif): Should really just mark this as incomplete :(. I also can’t decide whether it’s any good or not but I adore the fic it was inspired by so AAAGH.

Lucky Stars And Moon (OT3 Modern Royalty AU In Our World): I want to write more and do more graphics but it also requires me to like, think about tabloid journalism.

A Queen Twice Over (Basically a fic of fic making it OT3 in which Mary (Rose) Tudor marries Francis I): Needs like, words and also an outline.

Into The Fire (Sort of ’Game of Thrones but in England’ featuring all of Henry’s siblings live but also they have an awful oldest brother and they are rebelling against him): I know how it goes but it goes dark and I’m not sure if I’m in the headspace for that.

Exile AU (Henry does a Stupid, exiles Anne and Tom, marries Jane, it turns out Anne is (a) still pregnant and (b) gives birth to Prince Thomas): Exists in Tumblr Posts.

Dark Mirror AU (Consorts AU AU in which Henry and KOA listen to Norwich :/): also only exists in tumblr fic.

Queen Of Blood AU (Mary decides to take a turn left from It’s Always Darkest and take Nofolk up on his offer of the throne): also only exists in tumblr fic.

The Witcher

Witcher Narnia (The Witcher In Narnia): I really want to write the story of Calenthe The Last Queen Of Narnia Before The White Witch but possibly I need to wait until I watch S2 to get inspired. I do have a soundtrack for it though. Also maybe yell flail at @shes-a-voodoo-child @ruffboijuliaburnsides about it.

Witcher Hunger Games (The Witcher in the Hunger Games AU which = things are both better and worse): I want to write the Yen and Jaskier first meeting in dive bar story and then maybe some of Yen’s games in detail.

Meet Cute On Set (Or ‘Jaskier is an actor, Geralt is the equestrian trainer/teacher and it’s filming The Tudors but my Tudors OT3 unverse Tudors because Joey Batey played Mark Smeaton in Wolf Hall’ Yen is a director/producer): I want to research more about the equestrian side of things etc.

Witcher Tortall (Because Yen Has Purple Eyes): sadly exists only in tumblr posts right now.

Misc

It’s Not Because Of You, It’s Beause Of Me (Ted Lasso fic about Jamie Tartt with a take on his backstory that is complete on it’s own but could also have another chapter): maybe maybe will have something else.

[artxyra]

This is my first question ever since I downloaded tumblr, tbh. What if the Waynes including Marinette are playing Monopoly? Idk who started it (probably Tim or whoever), probably to test out Mari's luck (since you know.... she's Ladybug, symbol of luck hehehhe) then all or most of the Waynes losing their sh*t.

Do you have any idea how hard this was for me to write? I haven’t played monopoly in a very long time. Hopefully, this meets somewhat of your expectations. 

How much chaos can a family create when its game night? The answer is a lot of chaos, but when they add their newest supportive sister to the mix, well no one was going to make it out alive.

Like any other game night plan, it started off with Timothy Drake sipping on a fresh cup of coffee staring off into the distance. Due to his brain no longer properly functioning by this point and Alfred not even a few feet away, the idea suddenly came to him. It’s been months since the last game night so why not now.

Alfred stops preparing breakfast to make sure that Tim was alright and after determining the young CEO was as normal as he can be, he green-lights the idea but not after a long sigh.

Tonight’s game of choice is monopoly. A very bad idea.

The board game sat on the coffee table untouched. The family of six looks at one another daring a person to take the first step. It’s Alfred that picks up the box and begins unboxing the items. It was decided after the first time the family played the game that Alfred needs to be the one to oversee the fake money, especially when it got worse when Dick somehow managed to convince Bruce to use real dollars.

Everyone chooses their pawns. Marinette claims the cat, Dick got the duck, Bruce opted for the top hat, Damian fought with Jason for the dinosaur (he won), Jason decided on the car, and Tim chose the dog. The cards are shuffled by Alfred as everyone takes a seat, respectively inches apart from one another.

The moment the last deck of cards was set down, all hell broke loose.

Tim challenged Marinette’s lucky abilities, calling her out on hit. He wasn’t laughing when Marinette kept on avoiding spots that his brothers and father began to claim as theirs. She would eventually take two of the railroads. Yeah, who’s laughing now, Timmy.

It was Jason that calls for bankruptcy first. He even had the audacity to yell at Alfred telling him to recount. Jason was too far in the negative for it to even be a thought. Damian even had to nerve to laugh at his older brother despite being threatened with a bullet to his head. Bruce and Alfred, along with his Pixie-Pop of a sister, reprimanded him it.

Now sitting off to the side pouting, Jason glares at the remainder of the active players.

Marinette ends up taking the entirety of the pink and green regions of the board and started building up to her larger buildings.

She rolls the dice, barely passing the jail. This causes another shouting match to ensure. Marinette simply smirks and shrugs them off waiting for her next turn. At this point, everyone has been to jail but her. Damian began calling her a witch right beside Tim, who only secured the yellow region with a few oranges that are currently run by Bruce. Trading was not an option; well it was at first but now not so much, they want to win to defeat Marinette. If it wasn’t for Alfred handing them the cards, cheating would be the highest bidder.

Next to call for bankruptcy was Dick. He lasted long enough to see the horrid plan that Marinette has against them. He dramatically sulks in the background. Marinette calls out to him only for him to whine louder stifling a laughter out of Marinette.

Slowly but surely, they make it around the board at least two more times before Damian was taken out. He landed in one of Marinette’s areas and brutally lost money only to be hit again by his brother.

Then there was three, two of them are businessmen and the girl with a lot luck and a business mindset under her belt. At this point, the pink, green, yellow, orange, and blue zones were taken, the rest was up for grabs. Marinette takes the light blue zones slowly cutting back their funds as Tim takes the brown and red zones, Bruce takes the rest.

Thirty minutes past before Bruce call it quits, he was only spaces ways from calling bankruptcy leaving one bloodbath to watch another.

Marinette and Tim in a hushed voice threatens one another. He was egging her one while she taunts him about losing. The family is split. Damian and Dick secretly hoping that Marinette would win while the others vote for Tim. Between the two of them, money was strong and high.

Tension rose when the two remaining players made it down to only hundreds of dollars. Marinette rolls the dice. Tim bites his lip as he tries to calculate the spaces she has to take. One more, baby one more. Her hand stops.

“No!” Tim calls out flipping the coffee table in the process. Marinette has landed on a space she owns which is one away from his own and two away from the go to jail space.

With the board collapse on the ground, Alfred taking a sip of tea. He declares Marinette the winner. Marinette sends Tim a smirk.

“I told you, I’m at games.” She says with a wink before skipping out of the room.

Tim’s winning streak on board games against his family comes to a staggering hold. His legs buckle underneath sending him into a dark cloud of depression. Dick pats his back.

“We’ll get her next time.” He says before walking out to catch up to Marinette.

“I’ll have to say Master Tim, this was an inspiring good game.” Alfred says as her picks up the pieces and place them back into the box.

Tim stays on the floor, even when the lights go out.

Legend has it that Marinette never lost a game night after that.

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