#did I get this done simply so I could post that quote? yes i did

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Four

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's nothing warning worthy in this chapter. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~3.3k

A/N : I decided to post this chapter a little earlier than planned as my own little celebration at hitting 21 followers (I genuinely did not expect anyone to read any of this when I started) Thank you so much to everyone who's still following along with this! Honestly all the nice comments have really made my week.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

Two days after the party, you found yourself standing outside the Anvil building, eyes trailing up the side of the building while Karen adjusted her bag on her shoulder. It felt surreal how you’d somehow ended up there again, despite promising yourself over and over that you’d never go anywhere near Billy Russo again.

“Impressive, isn’t it? Big, definitely compensating for something,” Karen smirked.

When she’d called you and offered you some work, Karen had been pretty vague on the details; she just needed some quick portraits while she interviewed some businessman about his charity work. It was supposed to be easy money for a couple of hour's worth of work. Karen had even offered to pick you up, so everything about the job had seemed great. Until you were standing outside of Anvil and you realised you were going to have to see Billy again.

You were silent as you followed her through the building, trying not to think about how impressive it all seemed. His office was on the top floor - because, of course it was - and his assistant was a pretty, petite brunette with strikingly blue eyes, adding to the overall air of perfection and making you feel like you didn’t belong. She waved you into Billy’s office and your gaze dropped to the carpet, awkwardly adjusting your camera bag on your shoulder and the hard case with your lighting gear in your hand, doing anything you could to avoid looking up until you heard Karen introduce you.

Finally, you lifted your head, and there he was, stepping towards you and holding out his hand. You took it and let him introduce himself as if you weren’t already well acquainted with him, and you tried not to hold his gaze for too long.

“Okay, so, we’ll get set up, get the photos done, and I need to ask you a few questions, get a few quotes - you know the drill.” Karen explained.

“Whatever you need, Karen,” he smiled, moving towards his desk, choosing to lean against it rather than taking a seat.

“Need any help?” She asked you as you started to unpack and, of course, you didn’t, so she simply stood to the side.

“Frank’s in his office if you want to say hi,” Billy offered, smiling at Karen, “you’d be doing me a huge favour, he’s been in a shitty mood all morning, nearly took a couple of heads off in this morning’s briefing.”

Karen looked at you for a moment, not needing to give voice to the question; she wanted to go check in with her boyfriend and wondered if you’d be alright without her. Of course, she didn’t know about your history with Billy, she didn’t know that he was just trying to get rid of her. And you didn’t want her to know, you didn’t want to have to explain any of it to her, so you nodded. 

“I’ll be five minutes - it’ll give you time to get set up and decide what you want to do for the shoot.” You nodded but obviously looked uncomfortable enough for Karen to add; “don’t worry, he doesn’t bite.”

A few mumbled I’ll be fine’s later and she was gone, leaving you alone with Billy.

“Did you do this?” You asked before he could speak, letting the wave of anger carry you. “Did you set all this up just to get me here?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation and you found that you didn’t quite know how to respond.

At least he was honest - not that honesty would buy him much goodwill from you. 

He moved towards you and you shrank back, eyes flitting towards the door, hating the way you suddenly felt so small. But the moment he noticed your discomfort, Billy stopped in his tracks, leaving half the room between you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, though you didn’t know which part of things he was apologising for.

“For someone who says that as much as you do, you don’t seem to stop doing the things you’re sorry for.”

“Because I don’t know what I did wrong,” Billy sighed, his shoulder ticking upwards, “I just know that something I did upset you and that’s the last thing I wanted. I wanted to make sure you were alright and I didn’t exactly have any other way of getting you to talk to me. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me showing up at your place again...”

He sounded contrite, like he was really bothered by what had happened between you, and it was so at odds with everything you’d made yourself believe about him that you really didn’t know what to say.

What had he done wrong? Really? Thinking about it, you found that you couldn’t actually name a single thing; you were the one who’d gotten drunk and jealous, you were the one who went along with everything that had happened. No, not just went along with it, you’d wanted it, you’d enjoyed it. You just let your own neurotic bullshit get the better of you at the end of it all. All Billy had really done was try to ask you out, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but you didn’t feel like anything he’d done had been malicious.

“I shouldn’t’ve...” he decided not to go into detail about the other night and everything he’d done, “we’d both been drinking, and I know I said I’d leave you alone...”

“I didn’t exactly tell you to stop,” you admitted quietly, dropping your gaze and fixing it on his shoes.

“You shouldn’t have had to, I should’ve known that you didn’t want -” the tone of his voice broke your heart, the blame he carried for something that was just as much your fault, if not more than his.

“Billy, I didn’t tell you to stop because I didn’t want you to stop.” You interrupted.

As much as you hated admitting it, you knew it wasn’t fair to let him blame himself completely, to let him think that he’d forced you into something that you’d been a willing participant in. Yes, he’d kissed you, but you’d kissed back and no part of you believed that he wouldn’t have stopped if you’d wanted him to. (In fact, he had stopped, he’d let you leave the second you needed to.)

“What?” Because it didn’t make sense, he didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him. He dared to take a step towards you.

“I wanted it, I wanted what happened, it’s just - it's complicated, okay?” Frustration quickly filled your voice and you hated yourself for not being able to explain it. “I told you, I don’t date. And I don’t exactly do one night stands either. So, it’s been a really long time since I let anyone get that close to me and after everything, I panicked.”

Again, there was a silence that seemed to last an eternity, both of you trying to come to terms with the moment.

“I thought I’d hurt you,” Billy finally said. Your chest ached at the sadness in his voice, at the worry you must have put him through. “That’s why I set all this up, I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, Billy,” this time you were the one who dared to take a step forward. “And, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you’d care, or that you’d worry...” Though you regretted sharing that thought when you saw the look on his face. Of course he’d cared; he’d never said or done anything to indicate that he didn’t, even when he’d been trying to convince you to go to dinner with him, Billy had always been respectful of your boundaries, and you’d left him believing that he’d practically assaulted you.

“I should’ve left you alone,” he repeated, “but I thought I could get you to change your mind, and that wasn’t fair on you. I’m not used to being told no and I thought you were just playing hard to get.”

“I didn’t want you to leave me alone,” you dared to admit. Billy fell silent, wanting you to go on but not daring to ask you for more. For a few seconds, you struggled with what you wanted to tell him, but knowing that you might never get another chance you decided to be honest. “I was upset. I didn’t know Tammy was throwing the party and I didn’t know that you’d be there, and when I saw you with Michelle...” your gaze dropped to his shoes again. “I was jealous. I saw her and it made me think that you’d never really been interested in me, that I’d just been some distraction for you, and it made me so angry.”

Still Billy remained silent, letting you get it all out.

“And when you kissed me, I wanted to prove to you that I was worth more than that. But, at the end, all I could think about was how you might take her home when you were done with me.” You paused again, eyes still fixed on his feet. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, too scared of what you might see. After everything you put him through Billy had every right to be upset. But you needed to finish. You needed him to know one last thing. “And, the truth is, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you either.”

You don’t know if he started moving before or after your final admission but, when you looked up, he was standing in front of you. His hand moved towards your cheek but hesitated, like he was waiting for permission to touch you, and when you didn’t pull away from him, he tenderly cupped your cheek.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he told you softly, and you weren’t sure if it was meant as a reassurance or a warning. Regardless, you leaned into his touch. “Can I kiss you?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you offered him the slightest of nods. Again, there was a breathless moment of hesitation before, finally, Billy leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It wasn’t what you were expecting, given every other time that he’d kissed you; it was sweet and gentle, chaste even (a word that you never thought you’d associate with a man like Billy). 

“Are you okay?” He asked, hand lingering on your cheek even as the kiss broke.

“Yes.”

Billy smiled before kissing you again, this time in a way that was a little closer to what you were used to. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips, and you opened for him, letting the kiss deepen. Your hands found his hips, fingers grasping the fabric of his suit jacket, not wanting to let go, not wanting to let your fear get the better of you.

“One night,” you muttered against his lips when the kiss finally ended.

“One night?” Billy repeated, confused. 

“You asked me to give you one night. I - I’ve changed my mind, I want one night with you.”

“Do you still want to go to Pizza Hut?” He joked, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb, and you laughed.

“No, I want a real night out. I want the whole Billy Russo experience.” You told him, despite the way that your legs were trembling beneath you.

“Friday night, there’s a charity gala,” Billy explained, “be my date.”

“Okay,” nerves quickly crept into your tone. You’d never been to a charity gala, you had no idea what to expect from any of it. But you had three days to think about it, to figure it all out.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.” Before you could answer, he was kissing you again.

You would have been content to stay there, your body pressed against his as he kissed you, but then you heard a voice and the sound of a door opening. You sprang back, turning away from Billy while he remained exactly where he was, his gaze darkening for a moment as he looked at Karen.

“Everything alright?” She asked, eyeing you and then Billy. Karen wasn’t an idiot, you knew she could see the embarrassment written all over your face, she just couldn’t figure out why. “Did he behave himself?” She asked you a moment later.

“Please, Karen, you know I don’t know how to behave myself.” Billy joked, and you almost winced.

“Everything’s fine, Mr Russo was just offering a few suggestions about how he wants his picture taken.”

“Of course he was,” Karen laughed, rolling her eyes at him, “wouldn’t want to get your bad side.”

“What bad side?” Billy retorted with that smirk that made your knees feel weak.

Karen and Billy carried on their little back and forth while you finished getting your camera and lighting set up. It was almost endearing listening to them both; you weren’t sure why, but you got the feeling that Billy didn’t have many people in his life that he could talk to like that. Or, rather, you got the impression that most people didn’t want the dumb, playful side of Billy.

Photographing him was some of the easiest work you’d ever done - and, he was right, he didn’t have a bad side. He talked with Karen while you got more shots that you’d ever really need, managing to catch every flicker of a smile and the way his face would light up whenever he laughed. And, from time to time, he’d look at you with those dark eyes and you’d get goosebumps.

You only half-listened as Karen conducted her interview, but it all sounded very impressive; Anvil had been donating money to veterans charities all across the state, millions so far, and Billy had no plan of stopping any time soon.

When the interview was over, you packed away your gear, and you and Billy continued your little act, keeping everything professional. You said your goodbyes, and Billy mouthed the word ‘Friday’ at you the second Karen had turned her back. You followed after a moment later, heading back towards the elevator.

“So,” Karen said, letting the word hang in the air a couple of seconds too long for comfort before continuing, “are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

“What what was about?” Though you could already feel the panic knotting your insides.

“Seriously, you’re going to make me spell it out?” She laughed, and that definitely didn’t make you feel any better about things. “I saw the way Billy was looking at you. Did he come on to you when I went to see Frank? Because if he made you uncomfortable --

“He asked me out,” you practically blurted out. The last thing you wanted was to admit it to her, but you didn’t want her storming back into his office and kicking his ass on your behalf, either. “I’m going to some charity gala with him on Friday.” 

“You said yes to him?” Obviously confused by the very sparse sequence of events that you’d presented her with.

You let out a sigh, knowing how unprofessional you were going to end up looking when she knew the whole story, but you didn’t want to lie to her.

“We’ve met before. A couple of times. He asked me to dinner and I said no, but then - I don’t know, something changed and I said yes this time.” You shrugged. “But when you offered me this gig, I swear, I didn’t know that it was here or that it was him.”

If she cared about the professionalism of it all, Karen didn’t show it. Instead she was fighting back a smirk.

“Oh my god, suddenly it all makes sense.”

“What does?” You dared to ask.

“He specifically asked for you to be his photographer, only he did it by finding some of your work and requesting that he had that photographer; he didn’t mention you by name. Sneaky bastard.”

“Yeah, he told me he set this up,” you practically grimaced at how ridiculous it must have seemed to her.

“At least he was honest, I guess,” Karen remarked before; “I still can’t believe you said yes to Billy Russo,” she shook a head and your cheeks felt like they were burning, “I mean, I get it, he’s very nice to look at but -”

“Who’s nice to look at?” The sudden interruption startled you, but Karen didn’t notice. Instead her eyes were fixed on the man who’d just appeared in the corridor behind you. 

“Billy,” Karen laughed, “she’s agreed to be his date for the gala on Friday.”

“Another good woman lost to Billy the beaut’s charms,” he shook his head, grinning as he held out his hand and introduced himself. Frank. Karen’s Frank. You took his hand and gave him your name, all the while hoping that the ground would open beneath your feet and swallow you whole.

You stepped back and let Frank and Karen talk for a moment; they were deciding where they wanted to go for dinner, Karen said something about her friends Foggy and Matt and, finally, Frank told her he’d call when he got off work.

“I guess I’ll see you again on Friday,” he said to you as he turned to head back to his office.

“Friday? What did he mean by that?” You asked and Karen laughed.

“We’re going to the gala too.” Somehow, that made everything worse, and you wondered why Billy had gone through the charade of not saying anything in front of Karen about it.

On the way out of the building you made small talk, Karen told you what to expect at the gala; lots of free alcohol and people wearing some very expensive clothes. And she tried to set your mind at ease a little (obviously she noticed just how uncomfortable the whole thing had made you).

“As much as we like giving Billy shit, he’s not a bad guy,” she explained once you were finally outside and away from anyone who might overhear, “he saved Frank’s life, they’re like brothers.” You nodded but decided against asking any questions and, instead let Karen carry on. “He just - I don’t think he knows how to settle, I mean not that I’m surprised given the way he grew up, but he keeps picking all the wrong women.” She paused, looking at you for a moment, “not that I think you’re wrong for him, you’re definitely not -”

“Not his usual type? I know.” You shrugged. “But it’s just one night, I don’t think it’ll go anywhere.”

“Give him a chance, he might surprise you.” Her attention soon turned up unlocking her car and opening the trunk so you could put your gear down. “And, I think you might be good for him? Billy doesn’t have many real friends in his life, most people only ever get to see half the picture, you know?”

Yeah, you’d started to pick up on as much, but you didn’t know how to explain that to Karen. You’d seen the sweet and playful side of him when you’d gone for coffee, you’d dealt with the persistent side of him, and you’d even gotten a glimpse of what it might be like to spend a night in his bed. 

“And, if he pisses you off at the gala you can come hang out at the bar with me and Frank because he hates those things.”

You spent the drive home asking as many questions as you could about the gala, trying to figure out just what you’d agreed to.

Chapter Five

END NOTES : I hope this one wasn't too slow going, I just really enjoy cute moments where Billy and Reader actually talk to sort their shit out. The next part should be finished and up at the end of next week. I've got tag list now so feel free to drop me a comment if you want adding to it!

Hope you have a wonder day!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval

[purrple-sectors]

I had this post on my drafts for months ngl and I think with everything that's happening (and to not let it rot on the drafts) it should be shared

----

With the Lando hate train going on, and many other hate trains, I feel like there's some things that need to be said related to fandom and hate culture in general, this is not only about Lando and it applies to any driver

It's very valid to dislike, lose respect, and/or hate a driver to some degree, but death wishes, including wishing for a serious crash and general hate speech is NOT OKAY in any way

There's some very valid stuff to hate about a driver, but not all things they do are valid to hate, for instance many of their actions are reasonable and not properly wrong, I'm talking for example about when they complain on the radio when they're genuinely struggling with the car

It's okay for people to like a driver you dislike and it's okay for people to dislike a driver you like, don't harass fans for having opinions different than yours

Refrain from using isolated quotes or sentences from drivers to base all your mindless hating but also defending, context matters like the question they were answering, what they said before and/or after, try to understand the situation in a wilder angle before making assumptions and spreading misinformation

Avoid generalising actions, the drivers are human beings, and humans are very complex, only bc they did/said something shitty once, that doesn't mean all they do is always with malicious intent

I know we are on a time where media impressions are so absolutely central that it's normal to question the motives behind some statements, but that's doesn't mean they are all done with manipulative intent, yes we can never be sure but that also means that we aren't sure if it was truly a pr manipulative move

Try to not claim that you know for sure the true intentions of a driver when its not disclosed and the comment/action itself is very dubious and/or not very serious, you can guess it but you shouldn't go around saying that what you think is the factual truth, you don't know them personally and what is going on on their heads, a comment you may feel like it was made with ill intent, could have been done very innocently and naively. I'm not saying that it always happens however at least try to consider that it may be a possibility

Don't go overanalysing and dissecting a driver's every action and words with the purpose of only finding things to hate on them, not only is quite disrespectful it's frankly borderline obsessive and creepy

If you want to truly hate, there's specific places where you can do it, but don't let it bled to spaces like Twitter and Instagram comments, places where most drivers (like Lando) are very present and can see not only the hate directed to them but also the hate directed to other drivers. This also include spaces where drivers' close ones can see the hate, mentioning in particular Max F's twitch chat.

But be aware that if you're hating/speaking ill about a driver on a social media platform there may be people that can get uncomfortable with it and block you as they should. DO NOT make it personal or weoponize it, they have every right to block you if they feel uncomfortable and dont want to see your content

Lasty if you ever feel like your mental health is in stake bc of f1, turn it off and give it a break, your mental health shouldn't dependent on some drivers that don't even know you, its okay to feel this way but it's imo unfair to blame on a driver for their performance when theyre simply doing their job and doing their best

On a final note all the drivers have done something shitty and/or had shitty attitudes at some point but many people are clouded by judgement and mindless hate some drivers without acknowledging (and refusing to) that their faves also did things wrong, please avoid doing this, not only its very hypocritical but its quite a dangerous mentality of "My fave cant do any wrong" that can easily be translated to day to day life, try to be critical on serious situations, and hold ALL drivers accountable for things they said/done, not just the ones you personally feel to! You will come across as quite hypocritical if you just select a few drivers and not hold anything accountable to others (especially if they're your faves) and in the long run is not a very good look

To sum up just practice basic human decency, this is mostly my take of view so take it with a grain of salt if it pleases you so. This applies to any driver and I'll add more if I find other things to say. To any new fans out there the only thing I ask you is to try to educate yourself before jumping into any hate train, give yourself a chance to form an opinion and then see which part or side of the community you relate most, don't let others dictate your opinion.

[peach-and-bugs]

“I didn’t miss you. But now you're here and… god, fuck me,” with teen nat preferably angst/smut please. thank you!

❤️I'm Out of Time - Natalie Scatorccio (2000) x fem!Reader❤️ (18+, age in bio/pinned or you will be blocked)

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You hadn't seen Natalie for years. Not since she'd come back after the crash, and you where alright with that. You'd taken time for yourself and you'd moved on. You were working on your degree and finding yourself. You weren't anticipating any interruptions…

Warnings: Post-crash, 2000 (Natalie and reader are both 22), angst, swearing, Travis, toxic dynamics & smut (18+, age in bio/pinned or you will be blocked) - fingering, praise kink, oral fixation + some spit, top!Natalie, dumbification, minor primal but only if you really squint

Word Count: 3,618

A/N: Hello loves! I'm knocking out two requests with this one, as the quotes felt like they worked together well, so I hope yall don't mind! To make up for it I've made it a much longer than some other one-shots. I also felt like this could be read as sort of a sequel to my other Natalie fic, Blame Game, as both of these have pretty similar theming going on. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!

Natalie Scatorccio Tag List:

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy @damagnificentcookie

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-❤️-

You’re day had gone on relatively average compared to most days. You’d gone grocery shopping after class and work for the week as you desperately needed to restock your fridge. Normally, it was your roommate’s week to do the shopping, but she was out for the weekend visiting family back in Jersey, so today, you bit the bullet and got it done. You were currently fumbling with your bags as you talked to your mom on your cellphone, all while trying to get out of your taxi. Your mother always tended to call at the worst times. 

“No, Mom, I’m fine! I’m just trying to get inside, is all,” you huffed when she asked why you were breathing so hard. “Yes, money’s fine. I’ve just gotta balance work and school, is all” She cut you off again, and you had to stifle your sigh of irritation. You fumbled to pull your keys out of your bag as you approached your doorstep. 

Only when you looked up, did you notice the figure sitting in front of your apartment’s door. Your apartment mainly was single girls or girls who didn’t live with their boyfriends, so you assumed it was some strange suiter till the figure noticed you and stood. They brushed the hair from their face, and your blood ran cold, freezing you where you stood. 

“Ok, Mom? Can I call you back?” Your mother was already pestering you for a reason why before you could finish asking her. “I’m just trying to get inside all with full hands. I’ll call you back. I love you,” You had to talk over her to hang up, followed by a struggle to get your phone out from under your ear and shoulder and into your bag. 

Only after that did you acknowledge Natalie, who had simply stood watching you the whole time. You gave her a pointed look before letting out a stuffed breath and approaching her. When she opened her mouth to speak, you shook your head without stopping or skipping a beat as you went to unlock your door. 

“No,” was all you said, fumbling with your keys once more. 

“I didn’t even say anything,” she started with an exasperated scoff in her tone, following after you. 

“No, but I knew you would,” 

“Oh, you knew I would say what?” she hadn’t even seen you for five minutes and was already getting defensive—typical Scatorccio behavior. You groaned and just unlocked the door to your apartment complex and walked in with Natalie in tow because there was no getting rid of her now. 

“If you’re going to insist on following me, at least take something,” you aggressively shoved a paper bag in her arms, freeing up one of your hands to get a firm grip on your keys. She took the bag with a grimace but didn't further complain as she climbed the stairs with you. Of course, the elevator was still broken after a week, but you might as well get a little cardio in. You dramatically let Natalie into your apartment behind you, taking the bag from her after dropping your keys into the bowl by the door. You gave her no time to try the conversation again as you disappeared into your kitchen. You weren't going to let her derail your task. You wouldn't let her be a disruption. 

Eventually, she found you after wandering into the apartment. You only gave her a glance of acknowledgment as you unpacked your groceries. She’d cut her hair, but she hadn't bothered bleaching it again like she always said she would. It now rested just above her shoulders. Her shabby bans could use a trim. The ends were falling in front of her eyes and had to be obstructing her vision. She’d also gotten her lip pierced since the last time she’d darkened your doorstep. 

She kept her hands firmly shoved in the pockets of her leather jacket as she watched you. She was acting as though she hadn’t anticipated getting this far. You took a bundle of groceries to the fridge, and upon passing her, you scrunched your nose as you inhaled a familiar sour staleness. 

“I thought you stopped smoking,” you commented offhandedly, neglecting to hide any condescending tone. Natalie, not expecting the sudden comment or conversation for that matter, gave you a confused look, her eyes following as you maneuvered around the pocket-sized kitchen. 

“I'm sorry?” was all she could ask. You declined, looking back up at her as you turned your back to stick cans in you’re cupboards. 

“You smell like cigarettes again,” she scratched at the back of her neck, looking away. 

“Yeah, I picked it up again,” she acted as though she was about to be scolded by her mother. You turned around and gave her a hard look, trying to figure out what might be going on in her head. But Natalie was always tricky. She didn't let on what she was thinking. You could never figure her out. When you looked your way again, all you could do was groan and cover your eyes, practically boiling with frustration. And to think, just ten minutes ago, you thought to yourself that you’d been having a good, average day. 

“Natalie, what do you want?” you forced yourself to ask, hands gripping the countertop of your kitchen island as you watched her. “Why are you here?”

“Do I need to want something to come and see you?” You were shaking your head before she could finish her thought.

“Yes! Yes, you do, Natalie, because you don’t just drop in,” You maneuvered out of the kitchen and into your living room with Natalie on your heels. “You always want something, even when you refuse to admit it,” You opened a window and stuck your head out, taking in a long breath of somewhat fresh city air. The sun was already starting to set as streetlights turned on one by one. Squeezing your eyes shut, you forced yourself to stick your head back into your apartment and face your “company.” 

“I’m assuming it's money again,” you gave her a cold stare, crossing your arms and leaning against the windowsill. Natalie gawked at you, her jaw slightly hung wordlessly open till she scoffed, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. “What, am I wrong? Or maybe you thought you could crash on my couch,” you egged her on. This, of course, pissed her off, which you thought ‘good. If I have to be pissed, then so should she,’. 

“Wow, so college did make you a stuck-up bitch,” she said under her breath, immediately regretting her bitter tongue based on the deer-in-headlights look she gave you after, but even with the apology pressed to her lips, you didn't have it. 

“Fuck you, Scatorccio. You can leave right now for all I care,” you got up as you spoke, hands clenched into fists as you pointed at her chest. You raised a hand to shove her and get her out of your house, but she acted faster, grabbing you by the wrist. Her grip was tight, but not painful, but still enraging. That is till you looked into her eyes for just a little too long, and you gave up, your anger melting into pity and frustration instead as your brow knit and you frowned with a trembling lip. 

“What more do you want from me, Natalie,” you asked weakly, holding from screaming despite the urge you had. But Natalie couldn’t immediately give you an answer. That or she didn’t want to answer. Instead, she just held your wrist, her eyes searching your face for something you couldn’t pinpoint as she frowned. That is till she couldn’t take it, her eyes waving from you, and she shook her head, lips parting as she found her wording.

“I guess I missed you,” you couldn’t help growing angry again. You tugged your wrist from her, which didn’t take much effort, and gave her a point, hurt, look again. 

“You ‘guess?’ What, Travis not doing it for you anymore, so you thought you’d just come back to me as backup, once again?” It was now Natalie’s turn to get angry. 

“This has nothing to do with him-”

“Oh, it always does, Natalie,” you argued back, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation as you began to pace the room. “It’s always gonna be about Travis because you only want me when you can’t have him,” 

“That’s not true!” she yelled back with gritting teeth.

“When was the last time you came to see me when you weren't on a break?” you pressed, feeling the sting of tears begins to sting your eyes. 

“When was the last time you thought about me when you were with him, huh? I’ll tell you because you don’t think of me when you’re with him. You only think about me when you’re all alone, and I’m your last resort because you push everyone else away,” You finally let yourself yell, choking on tears. You knew you didn’t mean what you were saying, not wholeheartedly anyway. You just wanted her to go. You wanted to hurt her so she’d leave and never come back because you couldn’t keep doing this. 

You couldn’t keep feeling like second best or being around for a quick fuck when she was feeling lonely. You’d moved on! You were living your life for you and finding your way in the world. But then Natalie has the nerve to walk back in when she feels like it and when it is convenient for her. What about when it was convenient for you? 

What about way back when, when you’d waited for her, your best friend, to see you standing there, wanting her that whole time, only to pick a douchebag boy over you. Natalie said nothing as you began to cry. You felt like you were caving in on yourself, morphing back into that sad, lonely teenager who longed to be noticed as someone more than a friend. 

“I didn’t miss you,” you finally managed to talk again through choked sniffles. You sounded pitiful; you knew it. But what else was there to do now but to keep being honest? “I was finally feeling good! But now you're here and- god, fuck me,” you ran your hands through your hair, shaking your head as you pulled your eyes away from her, biting your lip. You took your fist, wrapping it around the thumb on your other hand, allowing your hands to shake as you started to pace once more. 

God, you wanted her to leave, but still, the thought of being alone after all this felt unbearable. And despite the anger you were feeling, you still wanted her. You wanted her to hold you, caress you, make you forget all the bad things you'd been feeling. You just wanted it all to go away. You hadn't even noticed that you shut your eyes again till you felt Natalie’s hands caress your face, thumbing at the tears that fell as she wrapped her hand around your clenched fingers. You couldn’t help looking up at her, your cheek eagerly seeking to lean into the warmth of her palm. She looked down at you with sad, wet brown eyes that you couldn’t help being captivated by.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” she murmured rather stiffly, swallowing thickly as she nodded. “You’re right about all of it. And I’m sorry,” you took in a long sniff and shook your head. 

“No, no, you're not. You're just saying that” You began to argue, but she urged you to listen. 

“I am sorry, and I’ve missed you. Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” she urged, squeezing your hand. “I just don’t wanna drag you into all my bullshit, you know? Because you don’t deserve that,” she explained weakly. 

“I could have taken it,” You urged her, but she shook her head. 

“I wouldn’t let you,” You sniffled again, relenting in a silent nod. You let that silence hang in the air till you couldn't bare it.

“Make it up to me?” Natalie knew the implication behind your request. You used that phrase with one another some times before, but now she wasn’t so sure. 

“I don't know if that’s the best idea,” She murmured, taking her rare turn to be the rationally thinking one. But you shook your head as a final tear rolled down your cheek. 

“Please,” you begged, squeezing her hand. “Just this time. If I regret it, it’s for me to deal with in the morning,” you knew you sounded miserably helpless, and you'd be embarrassed by your neediness when your mind cleared again, but for now, you leaned into it, excepting the mess you where when it came to Natalie. It was a bitter cycle; you knew it, but you could deal with the ramifications in the morning. After looking into your eyes for too long, she relented, taking your lips in with hers as your hands found refuge dug deep in her hair. 

-❤-

She pressed you hard into the bed, aggressively tugging at your shirt to come off over your head as she straddled your hips, letting out hot and heavy breaths against your ear as she struggled to swallow the moan that threatened to push past her lips. You started to tug at her ripped shirt as well, only for Natalie to stop you and take it off in one swift motion. You are about to reach out for her till she gets off your lap, scooping under you to move you up the bed. 

She kneeled on the bed above you and between your legs, messing with the buckle of her belt, smiling down at you with a wicked grin as her eyes lingered on your exposed, rising chest, then down to the band of your pants. Wordlessly you understand to take your pants off and sit up to do so as Natalie does the same. With the last major layer removed, your both left clad in your underwear. That is till you took your bra off, leaving your chest bare in front of her.

Natalie lunged forward, straddling your hips once more as she caught your lips in a heavy, messy kiss. Teeth scrape at your lip, and you meet the cold metal of her lip ring. Her breath was hot as it fanned over the skin of your face till she moved on to your neck. She sat above you, holding herself up with a knee and embows as she started marking up your neck. Her knee shifted into place between your legs, forcing into your core, and you let out a heavy moan from your throat. You could feel her smiling against the spot she now soothed on your neck, knowing what she’d done. 

“That's a c-cheep shot,” you managed to stutter out as she moved on to scrap her teeth over your collarbone. She’d done that long ago on accident but recalled the reaction you'd had then too. Your hips began to gently rock against her knee, already craving any friction available for the growing ache down below. Of course, Natalie only found this to be further amusing. But she eventually relented, her hands pressing your hips down and still, as she moved down your body, kissing your stomach as she pulled her knee away and practically pealed away your underwear. 

She dared to look up at you through her lashes with that blown, lusting look in her eye that had you turning your head away, fust clenching the pillow under your head as you bit your lip to stifle the moan in your throat. Of course, this wasn’t acceptable as she always liked seeing your eyes, so her hand snaked into your underwear, the pads of her pointer and middle finger finding your clit with ease; she moved up your body again, taking your chin between your fingers. You knew your face was flushed and hot, your chest heaving up and down with labored breath, your brows creasing as you strained to suppress the sounds pulling at your throat. But all the same, Natalie smiled down at you, her eyes full of unfamiliar warmth and affection that you craved. 

“Don’t be quiet for me,” she purred, tilting her head as she held your chin. She squeezed your cheeks just enough to part your lips, which released a breathy moan, and she grinned, nodding along as her fingers began to circle your clit in rhythm with the roll of your hips. You were already feeling the oncoming brain fog as she continued her circlings, and without giving it any thought, your hands reached out, caressing her cheeks as she smiled down at you proudly. 

Looking into her eyes, your mouth hung open as you let out every moan that surfaced as she circled your clit, going round and round till you felt like you were dizzy, but it wasn’t going to be enough. You were greedy. You needed more from her, more of her. 

“Natalie, please,” you managed, your expression straining with every swipe. She shooshed you, cooing so gently as she nodded.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m getting there. You’re being so patient,” she finally moved on from your clit to test the waters of your entrance, which you knew was embarrassingly soaked by now. But Natalie didn't mind. She seemed to enjoy the way her fingers glided in with ease and how you let out another shuddering moan against her ear. After some adjustment, she began to pump and curl her fingers in a timely rhythm with the rocking of your hips. 

She fawned at the way your eyes rolled back as her palm met your already sensitive clit, cooing muffled praise amongst the sound of your moans. 

“That’s right. Keep up those pretty faces for me,” she purred just before she began messily kissing your jaw. After all these years, it still amazed you how she had you memorized. Fucking you was like riding a bike. Natalie never seemed to forget what she was doing. You tightened around her fingers, thighs squeezing around her hand to make sure you weren't going anywhere as you climbed your high. 

Natalie groaned against your throat as the feeling but kept going. She’d moved so she was laying beside you, her head buried into your neck, biting at your shoulder as she grew increasingly aroused just by listening to the sounds from your throat and your cunt. Realizing how close she was to you among your building haze, you managed to think it wasn’t enough. So in a moment of desperation, thanks to your impending orgasm, you rolled over just enough to force your mouth against hers as a hand grappled at her still-clothed breast, slipping your fingers under the red lace to find hard, sensitive nipples waiting for you. 

You strummed over her nipple with your thumb, and Natalie let out an unfamiliar, strangulated sound that ended in an animalistic whimper. The feeling caused her to pump harder into you and ultimately was the final push to send you over the edge with a similar howling cry as you curled in on yourself, your forehead falling to Natalie’s shoulder as you grappled at her bare arms. You could hear her hiss at the sting of your nails clawing at her skin as you started to come down. 

Her hand slowed gradually as she continued to pump in and out, steadying you off of your high. She pulled away from you ever so slightly, nudging your thighs apart with her free hand to take her fingers back from you. She made a big show of licking her fingers clean till you gained enough self back to reach out, taking her wrist in hand and cleaning her fingers yourself. You watched her, doe-eyed and still hazy, as you let her fingers pass your lips, tongue running around her digits as you moaned at your taste. She appeared jealous watching the action but seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. 

“Well, look at you,” she murmured under her breath with a turned smile. She sat up on her side, propping herself up with her elbow. You let her fingers go with a pop as they passed your lips, and she grinned as she wiped your spit off on her underwear. You smiled contently without saying a word as you reached up, brushing Natalie’s bangs from her forehead where they stuck with sweat. Your hand ran down her jaw, guiding her back to your lips for another long kiss. As the kiss went on, your hands began to wander, but she stopped you before you could make your way into her pants. She held your wrist and shook her head, kissing your palm. 

“Not now. Just get some sleep,” she murmured, unclasping her bra from behind to throw it over the edge of the bed as she got up. She ducked away into your bathroom. You lie naked in the dark, listening to the sound of the tap turning on and running for some time before it turned off as she retired with wet cloth in hand. She helped you under the covers as she got in with you and slipped the warm rag between your legs, casually helping your clean up. The rag was also tossed to the floor with the rest of your clothes as Natalie crawled into bed with you. She didn’t often stay the night, but in your growing groggy state, you smiled, feeling her wrap around you, holding you tight. Maybe she wouldn’t stay, but for now, she was here and you were going to be content with that.

[offorestsongs]

Tell me about Rook if you don't mind

I honestly haven't paid much attention to anyone from pomefiore so I have a very basic idea on who Rook is and I would like to read someone's thoughts about him

HI HI THANK YOU I LOVE YOU /P

(also shout out to @natsukishinomiyaswife who asked me to talk about him in the comments of that post 💞)

OKAY SO. THE THING IS. it kinda annoys me when people are like "oh hes weird" "oh hes creepy" and i tend to get a bit defensive about it because YES!! YES HE IS!! AND THAT'S WHY I LIKE HIM!!

hes weird!!! hes weird and hes offputting!!! and he talks too much and hes overly theatrical with his emotions (while still hiding So much) and people think hes annoying!!!! and like- ME TOO!!!

i feel like i see myself a lot in him because im also too loud and too theatrical and too poetic in how i talk and dont always know how to interact with people in a "normal" way and people think im weird and annoying. except Rook is just so?? unashamed about it?? he just does what he wants and doesnt seem to care if people find him weird or creepy — he clearly respects Vil so much and would do So much for him, yet when Vil tells him that he's being weird or annoying Rook just. carries out with his thing. and i kind of love that. its so so very sweet to see somebody who just fully accepts his weirdness and embraces it and doesnt let anybody bully him out of it

kind of on the same topic — he always felt very obviously neurodivergent coded to me?? like he comes off as so obviously autistic that its basically canon to me. like, yes, hes often obvious to social cues but also. theres a moment in his Halloween vignette where he says that as a kid he didn't know how to express his emotions and he had learned it from watching theatre. or in one of his birthday vignettes when he says that once he focuses on something, it seems to consume him completely (not a direct quote but you get the idea shfjshf). and thats another thing that makes me like him more because — again, relatable

and while i do thing that the in-universe explanation for a lot of his more creepy behavior is a mix of him being very passionate about his interest and being obvious to/ignoring social cues (NOT saying that being autistic makes you act like a creep or anything YOU GET WHAT I MEAN). HOWEVER— i dont like him despite his stalker tendencies, i like him BECAUSE of them.

okay. listen. would a lot of the things he does be suuuper creepy irl? yes, obviously. but theres a lot characters that i like even tho i would probably hate them irl (cough, Vil, cough, Riddle, cough). and i do have a thing for characters who tend to get obsessive over other people — its good story potential!! its entertaining!!! i love watching him be a little weirdo and talk about hunting people its simply fun

AND THATS THE THING!! hes just entertaining!!! he has so many moments that are simply funny alright. i love when he's being dramatic when other characters are done with him when hes being so Out There. like,,, everything he did in book 6? peak comedy. that one vignette where he tells Malleus that he has hunted lizards but never caught a dragon? insane thing to do, so fucking funny. also him wanting to drink Vil's poison even tho there was No reason to do so whatsoever? unhinged. i love him so much

another thing (kinda related tho) is that while reducing him to his relationship with Vil would be doing him a HUGE disservice, it IS one of the things that drew me to him. it's just so interesting and tells a lot about who Rook is as a character and i feel like people missinterpret it a lot which is very sad. i love that Rook decided to change dorms simply so he can follow a guy around because he thinks said guy is pretty — again, insane thing to do, so fucking entertaining. i love how he talks So much about Vil and his admiration for Vil. but hes not blind in his devotion!!! hes by Vil's side because he choose to be and he could as well walk away if he choose to, Vil doesn't hold him on a leash. he can be harsh on Vil, criticise him and its BECAUSE he cares so much for Vil. he wants Vil to become even more brilliant, after all!! and Vil knows that!!! Vil knows that Rook is by his side On Conditions, even if he's not always sure what those conditions may be and id say he likes that. i mean, come on that man loves a challenge. and that's what makes their relationship so compelling to me! Rook is not a guard dog, the two of them are equals, theres a back-and-forth between them and yet Rook is always there when Vil needs him. okay i may have gotten off track a bit but i have A Lot of feelings about their relationship and i needed to get it off my chest lmao

ANYWAYS! i love his obsession with beauty and specifically, i love how it manifests. hes not focused on the "conventional" meaning of beauty, but instead hes able to find it anywhere. again — even if some of the things he fawns over others may find weird, it's actually so sweet that he's able to find beauty in things that other people may not even consider.

AND SPEAKING OF THAT — HES ACTUALLY SO SWEET!! like yes alright he can often be too blunt and say things without considering how they may impact other people's feelings, but i dont think hes unkind. there's actually so many moments where he's being sweet. like,, (in the main story at least, cant remember anything about any of the events dhfjsjf) he was basically always nice to Yuu. one of my favorite Rook moments is when he's comforting Deuce in book 5 (comparing him to a chicken in an egg no less which like. amazing). or the way hes always so supportive of Epel? i LOVE the whole part of book 6 when Epel discovered his UM. Rook was so proud of him!! i love that scene where Rook helped Epel with using it, it was so sweet

a smaller thing but his interests are so dear to me. like, yes hes a hunter and an archer but he also likes history!! and historical fashion!! and classical music!! and poetry!! and theatre!! idk there's something very sweet to me here (especially that i do happen to share a lot of his interests shfjshf). ALSO THE FACT THAT HE'S INTERESTED IN ARCHEOLOGY THATS SO SPECIAL TO ME. tho i DO also love that hes an archer, im always weak to archer characters

also hes one of the most queercoded characters in the game imo and as a gay bitch i have to appreciate that

okay i think im done thank you so much for the question writing all that made me feel very normal and sane 🫶

[wrenanigans]

SAW A SKYRIM POST YOU REBLOGGED. SKYRIM FAN???

YES! New skyrim fan! I finally started playing the game 12 years after its release and I am HOOKED! I’m gonna use this ask as an excuse to ramble so uh, long post beware xD

Okay so my first ever run has been the most chaotic shit. I just finished the main questline, but it was a JOURNEY to get there.

I’ve been playing with my gf @bucca2 who introduced me to the game. The first thing she did, as soon as we got out of the tutorial (and got mods working, including multiplayer), was take me to a little farm up north to meet somebody. “You liked Kefka, I think you’ll like this one,” she said. Cryptic and concerning! And I found this wagon and met Cicero.

To quote Aby, “Yeah, honestly, it was like taking a kid to Disneyland for the first time. There was this quiet wonder in his voice like he was discovering magic was real...honestly, I wish I had been recording. It was very adorable. He was hooked from Cicero's first voice line.”

Dude, when I say “blorbo at first sight” I mean I was down bad in an instant. I was writing fanfic based on that interaction alone (with some helpful hints from Aby). I had dreams about the bastard on night one. I got obsessed.

That feral enthusiasm did not wane as the game went on, because I went straight for the Dark Brotherhood questline. I was the Listener before I had even spoken with the Greybeards. I even updated a mod from an old Skyrim edition myself so I could marry Cicero. I was all about that wretched little fool and it was making a fool of me.

With Cicero as my first companion, I went onto the Thieves’ Guild quests next. Did you know that you can fail the tutorial pickpocketing quest? Because that’s what I did! They recruited me anyway. I got up to the Sepulcher quest, but never finished it, so I just have the skeleton key xD

When we assassinated the vampire in the DB questline, I got infected, and decided “eh, why not!” So I became a vampire. This made the inheritance of Bloodchill Manor extra fun — I simply sat back and watched the bloodbath! I only had to lift a finger when the Dawnguard came knocking xD

I went to the Bards’ College next. We’d “acquired” an expansion mod for it (do not get me started on other modders who charge for their shit. i have strong 🏴‍☠️ opinions) so that was a fun extra questline.

Up next was some Daedric prince shenaniganry. I got the Ebony Blade and did some light murderizing to buff it, then met Sanguine for some debauchery. My stealth archer build got even more broken when I stopped by to pick up Barbas from Clavicus Vile. Immortal dog to tank for me? Yes please!

Then I did the Dawnguard questline! I accidentally-on-purpose cheesed the pilgrimage to go fill the ewer. I got so lost in the Vale that I found the palace treasure room when I was only on shrine two. Seeing Serana shove the snow elf bastard off the cliff was fun, though I did miss the loot…

After that, I decided it was time for some warmongering, and signed up for the Imperial Legion. Which was a little awkward, considering I’d assassinated the Emperor already, but what they don’t know can’t hurt me! I had great fun in the battles where I simply perched up high and picked Stormcloaks off, like some sort of nefarious gargoyle. Also, General Tullius? would. He also saved my ass when I got lost in the Whiterun battle and found by 7 or so Stormcloaks, and he tanked while I shot them down. Sometimes the game’s mechanics make for great story :P

Finally, it was time for the mainline quest. I tolerated Delphine until she was no longer useful, at which point I turned to Parthurnax for guidance. Being told to go on a grand quest to find the Elder Scroll I already had was pretty entertaining, especially considering I’d done the same thing with the dragonstone from the first dungeon (which I’d gone to early to retrieve the golden claw). It was also funny as hell when I tried to talk my way into heaven and the only faction dialogue choices I had where the two that the dude didn’t like xD

After that, I went, “well now what? …probably lunch.” So I went and munched on somebody, as a vampiric treat. That’s where I last left my playthrough! I’ve had an absolute blast with the game, even if I am playing it ass-backwards. I may go do the Dragonborn DLC content next. If you have any recommendations for more shit to get up to, I’d love to hear it! Especially if it involves murder xD

[virologikal]

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐬𝐤 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞

@nshtn requested: 3, 5, 10, 17 for Wesker (I love your Wesker takes too ahh)

⸻ ⸨ Thank you for the many questions you sent in and I am glad you like my takes so far! I hope you don't mind me splitting some of the questions up in multiple posts so I can better tag them to the relevant characters ⸩

𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒:

3 - NoTP? I don't really have a strict NoTP for Wesker (or any characters, to be honest - I think all dynamics can be interesting to explore depending on how it's done and what the focus is). However, if we are talking about some form of intimacy or even trust at some point, I'd say the least likely I could see him with is Excella. I'm happy to be convinced otherwise, but from my point of view it feels like she is merely a tool to him, and he doesn't exactly hold her in high regards rather than consider her both useful and ... nice to be around, probably? She is gorgeous and ambitious, and clearly admires him to a point where it would cater to his ego, but I doubt he'd be interested in anything more than that.

5 - Out of all your fanworks that include Wesker, which is your favourite? When it comes to writing, definitely my fanfic The Unquiet Grave, because I get to explore his character both in past settings as well as think of ways to bring him into the current game lore. I just like prodding this character like a bug under a microscope. Otherwise, my fanart for him referencing a quote from Hannibal (TV series) is likely my current favorite. It took me roughly a month to finish, and is the only piece I currently have of just Wesker (I just love to paint Chris and Wesker together tbh^^)

10 - What's your favourite piece of fanart for Wesker? Honestly? Impossible to decide. There are so many amazing pieces of fanwork out there, be it in writing or art. I have a few pieces an old friend did back when we used to roleplay which they did for my portrayal and that I still hold very dear and close to my heart, so maybe those stick out a bit. But otherwise - I can't possibly decide on just one thing. All art or edits you find on this blog that I reblogged count as favorites, I'd say!

17 - What's a book, movie, or show you think Wesker would like? Funny enough, I have a headcanon post in the making that pertains to how Wesker perceives media (since there is a recurring theme of him not getting some media related jokes etc.)

To make it brief for the moment: In my interpretation of him, prior to the Mansion Incident he doesn't have time (or take the time) to really sit down and enjoy a tv show or movie, due to the many tasks on his hand. He has to juggle his work for Umbrella, his double-agent plans to leave them and take the research with him, lead the S.T.A.R.S. team as captain without attracting suspicion and at least pretend to have a social life of some capacity.

Once he starts spending time with Chris, he eventually lets him distract him and he actually sits down with him to do "regular person" things (at least for a while, until Umbrella informs him about their plan to use S.T.A.R.S. as test subjects during the Mansion Incident). During this time I imagine Wesker's interests would likely be directed towards anything sci-fi, due to the scientific approach to fictional settings in many shows or movies. Maybe not exactly Star Trek level (though Wesker being a Trekkie is a hilarious crack headcanon), but I'm thinking Event Horizon, Total Recall and, yes, Matrix (we simply cannot ignore the fashion inspiration of RE5 Wesker okay).

As for books, he definitely is an avid reader in my portrayal. Of course mostly scientific works, but also works about human studies (mostly so he could build up knowledge about interpersonal relationships, manipulation tactics, etc.). His special interest in my portrayal being sealife and diving, he would also read a lot about that, including sharks, as I also headcanon he considered Neptune as some sort of "pet".

[hux-and-gay]

Rating: Mature

Tags: Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, NO SEX, licking, nipple piercings, stilettos, Hux in lingerie, Romeo and Juliet references, Shakespeare quotes, lipstick, Modern AU

Word Count: 3,606,

yes I got AO3 I am slowly working on moving my fics over to there. I will make a post when I am done with that

Fic inspired by

Kylo walked through the ballroom, glancing from guest to guest, observing how they carried themselves, what they were wearing, what they were doing. Anything to occupy himself without actually having to do any partying. He didn’t hate parties, but fancy galas like this weren’t his scene. He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for his job. 

Everything felt stuffy, his tux, his shoes, the room. His hair was tied in a tight bun and it was giving him a headache. He scanned the venu and decided to go by the tables of food. More people were chatting on that side of the room. Maybe he could pick up on a few things. 

He pushed through the crowd his height giving him a slight advantage. There was a commotion as someone just ahead of him stumbled over his heels, Kylo reached out to catch him but the man’s drink spilled across Kylo’s shirt. 

“Oh my!” The man exclaimed steadying himself, clinging onto Kylo a bit too tightly. “I can be so clumsy, I’m terribly sorry about your shirt.” 

Kylo sighed. He had to admit the man’s voice was quite nice and the accent only added to it. “It’s alright I doubt I was going to wear this shirt again.” 

The man chuckled but cleared his throat and stood up letting go of Kylo trying to act composed. The man had pale eyes and skin, face dotted with freckles, and he wore dark makeup. His hair was fiery red and neatly slicked back, side from a few loose stands. The aforementioned heels were red lace up stilettos, making him just a bit taller than Kylo. He wore a low cut black blazer and suit pants embroidered with red, and he had a black leather corset over it, cinching his already thin waist and accentuating his shoulders making them look broader than they really were.  

“Shame it is a lovely suit.” The man said offering him a kind smile, Kylo couldn’t tell if he was trying to flirt or not. 

“Did you want another drink?” Kylo asked, nodding to the man’s now empty glass. 

“That would be lovely.”

Kylo signaled for a waiter taking the man’s empty glass and placing it on the tray before he took two more glasses off of it and handed one to the man taking the other for himself. “So what’s your name?”

“Hux” the man answered simply. “And you?”

“Kylo, Kylo Ren…” His voice trailed off and they stood there awkwardly. Hux was very handsome, he wanted to say something but he wasn’t really sure how to go about it, it didn’t matter anyway he’d be leaving soon. 

Hux broke the silence. “I haven’t seen you around. Are you staying at the resort?”

“No. I’m here for work. You’re staying here?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.” Cool? Did he really just say cool? What was he doing?! He was never this flustered! 

“I really am sorry about your shirt, it’s quite stained isn’t it?” Hux pointed out. 

“Oh it’s fine, I needed an excuse to leave anyway.” He added dryly shifting uncomfortably rocking back and forth on his heels. 

“Leave? The party has barely started.” Hux commented. 

“Not Really my scene.”

“Not mine either.”

“Then Why did you come?”

“I wanted to dress up.”

Kylo nodded. They stood in silence again. 

“Did you want to come back to my room? I could get you a new shirt.” Hux asked, holding out a gloved hand to him. 

“Just for a new shirt?” Kylo smirked teasingly. 

“Oh don’t be crude, but… perhaps.” Hux smiled back giving him a sultry glance before Kylo took his hand and was led out of the party. Then they found themselves in the elevator alone, and Kylo didn’t hesitate, he pulled him into a tight hot kiss. Then after a few moments pulled away. Hux stared at him blinking, trying to process what had happened. 

Kiss first, ask questions later, that's what his father had said at some point. Probably not advice you wanted to take if you didn’t want to get slapped, but with Hux it seemed to work because only seconds later they were kissing again, lips parted, tongues dancing aggressively with such fervor they pulled away panting.

 “Well that was Hot.” Kylo commented.

“Just wait till we get back to my room~” Hux added seductively.

“Maybe I don't want to wait.” Kylo said, pushing Hux against the elevator wall. 

“We’ve already missed my floor twice now.” Hux pointed out. 

“Your room can wait.” He leaned forward biting into the skin of Hux’s neck who tiled his head to grant him more access. Kylo’s hands slid down Hux’s waist sliding along the leather of the corset holding him in place as he moved down from his neck biting a trail along his collarbone causing Hux to gasp. He licked along the contour of his chest praising the fact that Hux had not worn and undershirt beneath the low cut blazer. His hand pulled one side of the blazer off his shoulder revealing his hard pink nipple which was pierced with a little silver rhinestone.  He groaned against Hux’s chest and moved his mouth lower, taking the piercing in his mouth and tugging gently. Hux moaned, pulling at Kylo’s hair till the elastic broke and arching his back against the wall. Then the elevator door slid open. The two of them froze, immediately letting go of each other and trying to act normal as strangers entered the elevator. Kylo offered an awkward wave to them and Hux adjusted his blazer. Then the two of them pressed the button for Hux’s floor again and rushed off as soon as the elevator arrived.

Hux led Kylo down the hallway, keying open the door and leading him into a lavish suite. As Kylo stared in awe Hux guided him to the bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed. Kylo smirked expecting Hux to join him but he started walking off instead.  “My closet is there, if you want a clean shirt” Hux said, gesturing to some sliding doors. “But I doubt you’ll fit any.”

“Where are you going?” Kylo asked, but Hux didn’t reply smirking before stepping through another door which Kylo assumed was the bathroom. 

Kylo glanced around the room, the crimson wallpaper, dim lighting and dark wood gave the room an ominous yet sensual look. It looked like there were a lot of antiques, like something out of a vampire movie. With the way Hux had been dressed Kylo wouldn’t have been too surprised if he’d walked in to see a coffin. He adjusted his hair now that it was free from the bun, sighing at the mental image of Hux maybe giving him a scalp massage to ease his headache. He decided to take his shoes and socks off while waiting, and after a few minutes of awkwardly sitting on the bed Hux emerged from the bathroom with a seductive grin. 

He still wore the heels but the suit and corset had been swapped for a Pearl colored silk robe. Kylo took a deep breath as Hux began to slowly side the shimmering fabric off of his shoulders revealing a white lacy bralette and matching panties. Hux smiled, folding the robe and placing it on the chest at the foot of the bed, walking towards Kylo, swaying his hips. 

“Damn-“ Kylo commented breathlessly, his face felt hot. 

Hux undid the shoes and kicked them off before sitting on the edge of the bed, paying close attention to his posture, legs crossed dainty, a sight arch in his back, leaning forward ever so slightly, exaggerating his hips just so, the white lace of his panties accentuating every curve. He was an actor, a performer. The way he carried himself, thought of each move before acting, everything was calculated, and graceful, like a trained dancer. Being Honest Kylo wouldn’t have been surprised if he was one. 

“Why your quiet Ren~ you’ve gotten quite an eye full have you?” 

Hux’s words were like a song, cutting through all of Kylo’s reservations like butter. The sweet tenure of his voice lulled him into a euphoric bliss. He wanted to grab him, free him of his lingerie and take him right there, but he had to stay reserved just a little longer, at least as much as his tight pants allowed. 

Hux leaned forward reaching to the nightstand and opening the drawer. Each movement was smooth, exaggerated, just watching his fingers slide gently across the wood varnish was enough to make him shiver, the red nail Polish shining in the light of the vintage lamp. He drew fourth a lipstick canister from the drawer and opened it with a satisfying pop. Hux held it to his lips, tapping his acrylics gently along the length of the canister in a sensual manner. He paused, turning to Kylo, smirking at his flushed expression. 

“Hux, you really know how to make an impression. Shit it’s like your trying to fuck my brain!” Kylo explained tugging on his shirt collar wich felt too stiff, too tight. 

Hux made a small arrogant laugh, “Oh how eloquent, you truly have a way with words,” he said sarcastically. “You want that off don’t you?” Hux said, gesturing to the button down. Kylo nodded eagerly in response. “Then take it off, I’m not helping you, I'm busy.”

Kylo groaned. “You’re so kind” He chided, but he quickly undid his shirt, leaving it hung open, he was already starting to sweat and his nipples were hard. 

“I don’t think I ever said I was~” Hux picked up the lipstick again pushing it up so the burgundy shade was visible and began applying slowly, lips slightly parted, watching Kylo with his turquoise eyes the hole time, scrutinizing every part of him, sizing him up. 

“Do you do this often? Bring men back to your room and stare at them like they’re prey?”

Hux set the lipstick down beside him smiling coyly and turning to Kylo, inching ever so slightly closer. His gentle hand rested on Kylo’s knee, pushing it to the side languidly, spreading Kylo’s legs just enough for him to fit comfortably between them. “Wouldn’t you like to know~” 

Kylo’s breath hitched and Hux moved forward climbing onto his lap and placing his hand on Kylo’s flush chest, smiling smugly, loose strands of his fiery red hair falling lazily across his forehead, his makeup slightly smudged from hours in the humid ballroom mingling through crowds of haughty strangers. His pointed nails traced patterns down Kylo’s chest slowly outlining every muscle as they trailed lower.

Kylo bit his lip, Watching Hux intently as one of the straps of the bralette slid off his pale, freckled shoulder. “My god you're gorgeous.” He said breathlessly. 

“Hm? I get that a lot.” Hux answered dryly, his hand continuing its work and coming to rest on Kylo’s crotch. His cock was hard pushing against the weight of Hux’s hand. Kylo stifled a moan and shifted slightly. 

“You sound dissatisfied.” Kylo questioned, confused. 

“When you hear it once you’ve heard it a million times. Surely you could be more creative.”

“Is this a test?” Kylo asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m just saying don’t waste your breath on mediocre compliments.”

“Bossy are you? Okay, you’re not just gorgeous. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve laid eyes on. Every movement, every breath, I want to study. Play them over and over in my head. The way the shine in your eyes dances in the dim light, how your lips part just slightly, the way your hair looks messy, yet purposeful, how the blush on your face and chest adds a warmth to the porcelain of your skin. You look so fragile yet sharp, like if I’m not careful I’ll cut myself. You’re like a god, I feel as if I should castrate myself before you and bask in your glory. I can’t look at you without being blinded but at the same time I crave it. I want to take you in my arms and hold you tightly even if it hurts~” 

Hux smiled, there was no hiding the blush on his face. “Well it seems I have found myself in bed with Romeo~”

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” Kylo quoted running his hand along Hux’s back gently pulling down the second strap of the bralette. Hux looked up at him leaning closer still. 

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.” Hux responded.  

Kylo smiled, holding his chin up and pulling him closer. “It seems I have found myself in bed with Juliet~”

“Oh what a tragedy~” Hux laughed, his laugh was soft, kind, and genuine. A vulnerability he seldom shared with anyone.

Kylo leaned forward whispering into Hux’s ear. “These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey…” Hux cut him off placing a finger across Kylo’s lips to quiet him.

Hux leaned forward to kiss him, laying his body across Kylo’s chest “Thus with a kiss I die~”

His lips puckered, but Kylo stopped him taking a thumb and rubbing away the lipstick leaving a burgundy stain on the corner of Hux’s mouth, then he planted a gentle and quick kiss on his thin lips and wiped off his own lips when they parted. 

Hux froze looking confused for a second before the coy smile returned. “What? Shy of a little lipstick?” He picked up the canister and reached up to apply again but Kylo grabbed his wrist to stop him. Hux was startled but hid it well. 

“No not shy, I’d just rather not get poisoned.”

Hux laughed “Ren, What are you talking about? If you want to role play Romeo and Juliet that seriously just tell me, because I’m sure I can find a dagger.”

Kylo smirked, “You don't have to lie, I know you were trying to kill me.” 

Hux seemed nervous, “what are you talking about, I’m confused.” He shifted backing away from Kylo a little.

“Oh you are quite an actor.” Kylo praised. “That was quite a show, I might have enjoyed it if circumstances were different… maybe I still enjoyed it.”

Hux crawled off of his lap quickly. “Ren, you're scaring me, what are you talking about?!”

“You? Scared? I highly doubt that Armitage.” Hux’s expression changed from one of false concern, to a cold calculating glare as soon as Kylo uttered his first name. Hux had not given him that name, no one knew that name. “Ah there you are. It’s nice to meet the real you.” Kylo said smirking.

“How did you find me? Who are you?” Hux demanded angrily. 

“Ben Solo, FBI, I’ve been investigating the first order's dealings under the Alias Kylo Ren, turns out they’re more than just an organized crime group. But you already knew that.” 

Hux snarled “what do you want from me? Are you going to arrest me? You won’t make it out this door alive.”

“Ha, I’ve already done what I came here to do.” He said, swinging his leg over the side of the bed and coming to stand beside him. 

“What do you mean?” Hux replied, standing as well. His face portrayed no sign of fear, but his body gave it away, the way he seemed to curl in on himself and his hands grabbed at the sheets behind him. 

“The drink you had at the party, roughly an hour ago. The glass was laced with a slow acting poison.” He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “I’m thinking you have about 30 minutes before the symptoms hit, an hour or two to live. Being generous.”

A look of fear and trepidation came across Hux’s face as the realization sunk in, but he only allowed it to linger a moment before he returned to his stone cold glare, “Heathen!” He yelled. 

“What? Is you poisoning me any better?” Kylo leaned closer to him. “In fact I really should be thanking you. I would’ve never put this much detail into my plan but I know you like your kills slow and discreet. I thought I owed that much to you, so I took a page from your book.” 

Suddenly Hux pulled a dagger out from the sheets of the bed holding it so the tip pressed lightly into the skin of Kylo’s throat. “I’ll kill you, and it won’t be so slow and discreet this time!”

“Careful Hux,” Kylo responded, matching Hux’s own demeanor. “I’m not wired but one press of a button and this place is swarming with federal agents.”

“If I’m already dead it doesn’t matter, I can easily kill you before they get here.” Hux said, dropping his voice to a sinister whisper. 

Kylo laughed. “You haven’t figured it out have you?”

“What?” He asked, his tone icy. 

“Do you really think the government wanted you dead?” He placed his hand on the hilt of the dagger.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Hux questioned. 

“You know too much. Your mind holds the secrets to weapons of mass destruction. You're too valuable a target. They want you alive.”

“So what is this then?” Hux asked, still holding the dagger firmly, pressing down with a bit more force but not enough to cut the skin. “Some moral high ground? Kill me so no one, not even your own government can know the secrets of warfare?” 

Kylo thought to himself. He’d never once thought of that possible conclusion. “That would be admirable, but no.”

“Then why?” Hux’s voice raised in pitch, he was confused, scared. He may pretend to not care if he lived or died but Kylo had seen through that long ago. 

“Because I want something. Something only you can give me. And I knew you wouldn’t give it willingly.”

Hux dropped the dagger. “I can give you a lot of things, you'll have to be more specific.” He did not sound amused. 

“You’re partnership.” Kylo answered calmly, gently lacing his hand through Hux’s soft locks. He leaned in whispering breathlessly into Hux’s ear. “I want to join you, join the order.”

“What?” Hux Couldn’t contain his shock. 

“I have the antidote to the poison.” Kylo explained.  If you let me join you, you don’t have to die. And I don’t want you to die. You’re much too pretty.” He smirked. 

Hux sneered, “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t have a choice.” Kylo brought his hands about Hux’s waste pulling him close. Hux gasped and turned away. “I’ve studied you, more than I’d like to admit, I know you won’t throw away your legacy for this.” Hux turned back to him the steely glare returning.

“You don’t know me.” He bit out.

Kylol stared down into his eyes, reading his face, taking in every detail, his sharp jawline, thin lips, still slightly stained from lipstick, freckles dotted across his face like stars, small blemishes hidden under layers of makeup giving him an heir of perfection. But the confidence in his demeanor was not reflected in his eyes. Kylo could tell a lot from a person's eyes. “You're embarrassed, embarrassed that I won, you want another chance to kill me. Or perhaps…something else~”

Hux blushed but the expression on his face read of malice. Kylo graced a hand across Hux’s cheek caressing his face tenderly. “Armitage, don’t lie to me. I know you felt it. We weren’t acting. Completely anyway.”

Hux bit his lip and spoke through gritted teeth. “Fine. In approximately 10 minutes this whole building will explode, there’s a body in the bathroom. When the authorities find its charred remains they’ll think they belong to me, successfully faking my own death. If you wish to get out of here alive, we best leave now.”

Kylo’s eyes widened in shock but he smiled. Letting go of Hux. “The whole building? That seems a bit much to cover up my murder.”

Hux was slipping back on the silk robe and finding his heels that had been so unsermonousky tossed on the floor. “I like flair.” He added.

Kylo chuckles. “I’m flattered.”

 “Come now” Hux said, opening the door and leading him out. They made quick work of the stairs, Hux had already rigged it to wear the cameras would not see them, then they exited through a service door stepping into the cold dark of the night, the black pavement glittering in the light of the moon still wet from the rain prior.”

“Where’s the antidote?” Hux demanded. 

“Patience.”

“This isn’t a matter to be patient abou-“

Kylo threw his arms around him pulling him into a tender kiss. “I won’t let you die. I‘ve wanted this for to long. Ever since I started the investigation, you’re all I ever thought of.”

Hux stared back at him, something awakening that hadn’t been there before, his hands reached up and ran along the side of Kylo’s jaw tracing it gently, he was thinking, planning, plotting. Maybe he would kill him, but later, not now. He drew Kylo into a hot passionate kiss. He whispered against his lips “I’ll destroy the world.”

Kylo dipped him back deepening the kiss they’re bodies one. The sound of explosions filled the air, the trees swaying as the venu lit ablaze hot sparks falling down around them as they kissed. “I’ll destroy it for you~”

@misbon-god-of-mischief

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

@dragonflies-draw-flame

@rommonoch

@huxkisser

@fridayincarnate

@lessdenied

@fives-ren

@not-so-allegiant-general

@jaynesilver

@thegeneralorder

@existing-sadly

@theosb0rnway

@diabollicallyangelic

[danvillecheese]

why do u think act ur age is fucked

[cracks knuckles] alright. essay time. you asked for it.

I’ve done a similar response to this before here and mentioned something else about it here but I’ll go over it again since those posts are both from a while ago. also bear in mind I haven’t seen aya recently bc I don’t like it. okay let’s get into it

[also im gonna preface this saying maybe i sound very pessimistic but im ranting and its just gonna sound like im complaining because i am. i mean no real malice by the way. im simply a person with a blog.]

first off. they don’t use the show don’t tell as well as they could. in the what might have been montage, sure, they showed potential scenarios and how phineas felt (very briefly) when isa stopped visiting his backyard but it just feels so rushed. I get that they only had like 11 minutes to show it but idk there has to be another way to write it. or just not have it at all idk its just from a writing point of view the whole episode feels rushed and out of place from everything else continuity-wise. why not use little easter eggs planted in the show beforehand? operation crumbcake? pharmacists? meapless in seattle? god theres so many episodes with evidence that phineas liked her back even if he didnt know. just. continuity!!!!

second. why did their friends not try something sooner. it’s not like they didn’t know. like phineas seems to be okay with saying “i wish! i am so in the friend zone there” in front of his friends (that quote alone makes me lose my shit but that’s a whole other point) so clearly they knew about phineas. and isabella also wasn’t quiet about it (source: pnf s1-4). they had like four years of high school to do something and they planned it the day isa left for college? nah its just the least realistic thing ever for me. also them being 18 is like yeah okay maybe the slow burn was worth it and theyre way more grown up (i love a good slowburn) but ohhhhhh my god SURELY their friends were getting sick of them dancing around each other. just me?

third. and I’m sorry to ash simpson but oh my god I hate the character designs like They Would Not Fucking Look Like That. it almost feels like it completely disregards their arcs during the original summer. like yeah child chub disappears over ur teen years but sometimes it stays a little longer! make phineas less twiggy!! make isa look more like her mother! (am i about to redesign them again? whoops)

four. and i know this is no fault of dan and swampy but the show was about to end anyways and yet the entire friend group was paired off into hetero ships?? get fucking real. none of those kids are straight. realistically, i know it was a different time and gay marriage wasnt even legal in the us yet so it wasnt all that common to have queer romance on screen let alone on disney channel but like i said, the show was about to end. what were the disney channel execs gonna do? cancel it? lmao

five. "I am so in the friend zone there." "we are guys. we do not talk about our feelings." WHAT!!! i cant believe this shit is real. these lines of dialogue are canon. what the hell. what kind of message does that even send to younger, impressionable viewers? if ur a 10 year old boy watching that (ok fine maybe that isnt gonna stick with you forever but listen) and you go 'oh its okay to just bottle everything up and not tell my friends about my feelings about anything ever' that is insane! thats not how things should go!! like i get the whole "im so in the friend zone" and yes, this also has to do with the era but like if they wanted to be a more progressive cartoon that kids look up to and enjoy maybe they just. shouldn't have put that whole conversation in.

i barely have any problems with the b plot. in fact id watch the episode just for the kazoo solo. because that plot lines up with the continuity. i can totally see heinz having bowling night with perry and carl and monogram every week! i can totally see perry and monogram retired! and carl running owca and getting payed for it! that all checks out! that one makes sense and works with the canon! if they got that plot so right how did they get the a plot so wrong?

i can answer this question: fanservice. its an awful word, i know. act your age is a fanservicey episode which is why i think it crashed and burned. mml season 2 is rooted in the same issue: doof is very present and takes away from the original plot of the show. like, the one he wasnt even in until the last episode of s1. slightly getting off topic but it is the crux of the issue. fanservice doesnt make for good storytelling. even if it brings in the big bucks. at its core, telling the story the way it should be told is the best one. even if it pisses people off. a good portion of the viewers will still appreciate whatever ending the creators come up with. and no, im not saying phinbella shouldn't have become canon, in fact i really like the ship and all their dynamics, i just think they went about it the wrong way.

as someone who's written and published fic about them getting together in different universes (granted, they were from when i was younger so its mildly terrible. take them with a grain of salt) there are a lot of other ways to tell that story canonically. honestly, i think the best way of doing it was to keep it ambiguous. dont tell that story. let the viewers pick their own ending for phineas and isabella. maybe they dont get together after all. who knows!

thanks for the ask! hope you had fun getting lectured <3

[bebepac]

Where Do We Go From Here?

I am participating in @choicesflashfics​ prompt  week 28  using: “I saw this  and it reminded me of you, and  “Sometimes forever doesn’t necessarily mean forever”  and past prompt  “I don’t regret it... but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.”  All used quotes will be in bold.

I am also participating in @aprilchallenge​ for  the over all theme Just want to be with you.

This is Part 8 of the Cordonian Arrangement.

The Book:  TRF The Series:  The Cordonian Arrangement Pairings: MC is widowed, Past Pairings Riley x Nico (Riley x M!OC) , Past Pairing of Liam x Riley Word Count: 2232 Warnings and Ratings: Mention of character death, grief.  Mention of pregnancy complications, profanity: / Teen Summary:  Riley and Liam try to deal with a very awkward situation.  

Original Post 04/14/23  at 2PM EST.

It was barely dawn and the sun was only creeping slightly through the windows. When she moved, his embrace tightened, pulling her back close to him, so that he could lean into her  to kiss her neck.  He sharply inhaled because her natural scent was so intoxicating to him.  He had missed sharing tender moments like this with her.

  Riley was still waking from her slumber but to her, it felt like a typical morning, that she had lived every day when waking in his arms was commonplace.  

She  moaned softly as he continued to gently dot kisses to the sensitive skin of her neck, her body responded naturally to his touch.

“Let’s stay in bed.  Don’t go…." she mumbled in her sleep. “Stay with me.”  

“Always.”  

His voice made her immediately  leave that place of pre woke slumber to soberingly wide awake, quickly pulling away from him.

“Liam….”  

Fully awake, all the memories of the last few months, and from last night flooded back to her in a wave.

Observing the shock and almost disappointment in her eyes, Liam knew, as she shielded her bare body from him with the bedsheet.  

Liam’s voice was heavy with discontentment as he spoke.

“That wasn’t intended for me, was it?”  Liam’s gaze was piercing, full of disappointment causing Riley to quickly break eye contact with him. She just couldn’t look him in the face right now, but she wanted to be honest with him; he deserved that.  

“No… I’m…. sorry….” She  murmured as she turned heading towards the door still draped in the sheet from the bed.

“Riley, we need to talk about this.  There’s a reason you came to me last night. It felt right for us to be together that way. We felt like us again!”  

“For a brief second, this morning, I forgot the horror that has been my life these last three months.  Last night, I was lonely… I wanted to feel…. connected to someone again. I didn’t  mean to give you the wrong idea, and for that Liam, I’m truly sorry."

“Do you regret what happened between us last night?”

“No… I don’t regret it… but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.  It was a mistake Liam.  We have way too much history for me to think that you would simply be okay with it. This is all my fault. I should have been clear with you what last night truly was….for me.”

“We made love last night Riley.”

“We… didn’t.  It was just sex, Liam.  I’m still in love with my husband.” She glanced down at the ring on her finger that she was still wearing. Nico's wedding band dangled from a gold chain around her neck.

“Your husband is dead.”  

Riley gasped in shock.  Liam immediately wanted to take the words back, but it was too late; the damage was done. Riley shook her head in disbelief.  

“Who are you?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like it came out, Riley. Forgive me, I didn’t mean it Riley. I promise you I didn’t.”

"Yes you did."

"I really didn't…"

“Get out of my house.”

“Riley….No… We’re supposed to take Angelo to the zoo together today.”  

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!!!!”

"Riley please…."

She adamantly shook her head no.

"Nico was wrong about what you and I could be to each other. I need you to pack your stuff and leave now.."

“Riley, that's not fair for you to say that.  We’re still figuring all of this out.  This isn’t easy for either of us to navigate.”

“I need you to leave Liam.”

“Not like this. I’m not leaving you like this Riley.”  

“Fine, then I’ll leave.”

Riley left his room and locked herself in the master bedroom.  

After a few minutes she heard the sound of Liam’s rolling suitcase on the floor, it stopping in front of her bedroom door.

“I’m going to say goodbye to my son before I leave.”  

"You should do that."

"For what it's worth Riley, I'm really sorry."

“Goodbye Liam.”  

A few minutes later Liam was gone.  Riley took a deep breath finally unlocking  her door.

Ruby One

“I was sure you said you were here until Monday, how the hell did I fuck that up?”  Leo asked when he got on the plane clearly confused and hungover.

“That was the plan.”  

“Well what went wrong?”

Liam explained what happened with Riley.  

“You’re an absolute fool when it comes to Riley.  That woman is a walking red flag right now, and trust me I know a red flag when I see one.”

“What?”  

“It’s not her fault though, she lost her husband.  You ignored all the signs because you want her back, and Riley’s not there yet.  She can't be what you want her to be Liam…at least not right now. You have had a front seat to her grieving Nico.  

You know how hard this whole ordeal has been for her.  When I saw her last, she was still wearing her wedding ring, and his wedding band.  Did she take them off?”

“No.”

“That’s not a woman that’s ready to move on with you, no matter how much you want her to be ready.  She’s stuck in that place where she still desperately misses her husband, and wants him back.

She was probably lonely, and let's be honest horny, and you were there, and she sought comfort from you, in that way.  You had to know what you were getting into when she showed up at your door last night.  Liam, be honest with yourself.  It wasn’t the beginning of rekindling of your relationship with her, and you knew that, but you wanted her so much, that you didn’t care. You just wanted her, any way you could have her.”

“You’re right. I love her."

“Liam, you have to give her time. If the two of you are meant to be, she will come back to you.  But what you did, didn’t help the situation, you got mad with her and said something incredibly hurtful.  It was true, mind you, but hurtful. You do this to her, you know and you need to stop."

"Do what?"

"You impose all these things on her, expecting her to follow them, to be what you what, how you want it, when you want it. Then you get all surprised that she rebelled against you and ran, and put up every wall imaginable to keep you out, this not being the first time she’s reacted this way to you.  Does this sound familiar?"

"I'm acting just like father would….."

“You are little brother.”  

“Give her some space, and she’ll come back around.”  

“If she doesn’t?”

“It was just never meant to be, and if we’re being completely honest here,  you lost her over three years ago; it might be time to finally let her go.”

Liam was in a deep state of contemplation the rest of the way back to Cordonia. He decided it was time to listen to his own message that was given to him by the late Nico Karahalios. Liam pulled his own envelopes out of his desk drawer. He had given him two envelopes one said "If it's working" the other one said "If it's not working."

He picked up the "If it's not working" video and began watching.

"Hey Liam. I can honestly say… I’m not surprised.”

Nico smiled. "You thought it was going to be easy, didn't you?"

Nico began to laugh.

"You really did, didn't you?!!"

Nico abruptly stopped laughing. "I'm sorry. This is not helpful.”

"Damn right it's not." Liam thought.

“I’m sure that you were expecting more from me.”

Nico sat silently for a few moments.

"Like what exactly? Did you think this was the part where I am going to tell you how to win my wife's heart back? How to get her to fall in love with you again? I'm not going to do that. I can't do that. She's not going to do anything because you want her to do it. She does things on her own time. That woman has her own mind, and she's not afraid to use it. Liam, she's a different woman than the one that came here a week after you met her in New York. None of the same rules are going to apply.  You have to get to know her again as the woman she is now.  She���s been a lover and a confidant to me, she’s been a faithful wife, and a beautiful mother. How I won her then, I  can’t even take credit for that, I didn't win her, but instead she chose me. 

I think she chose me because I was patient with her.  I did what I said I was going to do.  If I told her, we were meeting at 6PM for dinner, I’d be knocking on her door at 5:50. She could always rely on me being there for her.   Comfort and stability allowed her to relax with me, because Riley is not a calm person. Her senses are always heightened, waiting for the other shoe to drop, because of all the hurt and loss she’s experienced in her life. I finally got her to relax with me…and then I died on her. I will never forget the look in her eyes when I told her I was dying. She was completely blindsided. The light after everything she’s endured that you see in her eyes so easily, disappeared. It broke my heart.”  

Nico shook his head.  

“Our marriage wasn’t perfect.  We had  our fair share of fights.  Our very first year of marriage was particularly tough.  We lived with my mother.  Can you imagine? Small house, with a newborn, while my cousins helped me build the house we were in now.  Our first really huge fight, after we moved in, Riley kicked me out of the house and locked me out.” 

Nico laughed.  

“From my house.  I slept in a tent in the yard for 3 days.  My cousins saw me, talked all this macho shit to me,  and so I got all ballsy and I went up to MY HOUSE.  MY HOUSE THAT I BUILT FOR MY WIFE…And insisted Riley let me back in.  You know what happened Liam?  Can you guess?”

Nico was silent for a few moments.  

“It was the equivalent of upsetting a bee hive. I spent a fourth night out in that damn tent. Day five, I left her alone. Day six, when I woke, she had brought me breakfast, and wanted to talk.  Was she still angry with me?  Yes,  but she had calmed down enough that she could talk to me without shutting down on me.  I hope you understand what I’m trying to tell you.

Riley put up with a lot to be in that arrangement with you, that experience changed her.  Now, yet again, she will be forever changed from losing me.  I don’t know if she’ll come around.  I hope she will, because I want her to be happy, Liam.  She’s had too much sadness in her life, to not be.  I wanted to be her forever, and sometimes, forever doesn’t necessarily mean forever.

So in closing,  whatever you did wrong… Make it right Liam.”  

Liam decided to take a page from Nico’s book.  He gave her space.  Finally after the most painful weeks of not speaking to Riley, he decided to send her a text.  Riley used to like a good meme in the past, so he decided to send her one.  

“I saw  this, and it reminded me of you. Just imagine they are butterflies, and I remember how you feel about butterflies.”

Later in the day he noticed she had seen the meme, but she hadn’t responded. He decided not to push and maybe Riley would respond on her own.  During the night  while Liam was sleeping she sent a meme back to him.

He took it as a sign she was ready to talk.  

He immediately called her and once she picked up he started speaking, not even waiting for her to say hello.

“Riley, I completely deserved the way you treated me that day.  I’m so sorry for what I said.  I never meant it, and I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me.” 

“This isn’t Riley.  It’s Athena, we just got Riley to the hospital, she wanted me to call you.”  

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the baby.  We’re really concerned.”    

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”  

Staff had the Ruby One prepped for departure within the hour.  Leo when hearing the news decided to go with him for support. Within three hours they  were at the hospital.

"What room is Riley Karahalios in? I need to see her."

"Are you family?" The receptionist questioned, and when he didn't respond she countered with "Only family is allowed back in this wing."

"He is family. He's the baby's father."

"He's right. I am the baby's father.”

She’s in room 224.”

Leo followed as Liam walked briskly down the hall at an accelerated pace.  

“She’s going to be fine. Her and the baby are going to be fine.  They have to be.”  

Athena and Mama K were sitting outside the room when he walked up.  Athena immediately stood.

“Athena, what happened to Riley?”

“She was having pains, and there was some bleeding.  We were really scared.  It’s stopped now.  They have her calm and she’s finally resting.”

Liam walked into the room, Riley was snoring, the beeps of the multiple monitors didn’t seem to be bothering her.   Taking her hand in her sleep and gently stroking it, Riley still did not wake.  So he sat there quietly holding her hand.

He softly whispered to her. “I’m here.”  

Riley woke up a short time later.  

“What are you doing here Liam?”  Her hand tensing slightly under his touch.

“Athena told me you wanted her to call me.”  

“No I didn’t….”

“Oh…”

“But I’m glad she did. I told her not to, because, I didn’t want to worry you.”  

Riley’s hand relaxed in his again, her free hand rubbing her stomach.  

“I thought I lost her, and I can’t lose both of them.  I can’t handle that. I’m such a mess right now. I’ve never felt this out of sorts in my life.  I’m sorry I got so angry with you. I get that this isn’t an easy situation for you either.”  

Liam could almost hear the words of the late Nico Karahalios in his ear.  “You have to get to know her as the woman she is now.” 

“It’s alright.  I know.  How about this?  Let’s just start over.  Let’s forget all the missteps on both our parts, and start at the very beginning. I’m Liam Rys,  it’s a pleasure to meet you….”  

“I’m Riley.   Riley Karahalios.”  

And that’s the woman, she is now.

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

Weekend WIP Game

Thank you for tagging me @welcometololaland @alrightbuckaroo and @lemonlyman-dotcom!

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

WIP List:

I have A LOT of ideas. As for things that are actually in progress, I have 4:

TK Project: My project for TK Strand Turns 30. I've been working on this for a few weeks now and should be wrapping up either this weekend or early next week. I'm pretty happy with how it's turning out!

A special project that I'm not going to say anything more about here but will be posted in the first week of November.

TK Babe/Baby, a project using my comically large hoop that will feature quotes of every time TK calls Carlos babe or baby--this one has a complete pattern, a hoop all ready to go, and even a single letter stitched in the center so I know where to start. I'll probably start working on it in earnest over the holidays.

Lone Star Christmas Ornaments--so far I've created one pattern for "Catan is spicy." I want to make at least 2-3 other ones.

Then I also have a variety of ideas, some fairly concrete, others vague notions that require more development and simply exist in a list in the notes app on my phone:

Wise Ass/Lollipop--a Gwyn quote from 2x01, heavily inspired by suggestion from @lemonlyman-dotcom--I haven't made the pattern yet, but it's pretty much fully formed in my head.

The third in my Loft Series--so far I've done one involving the bedroom and one involving the dining area. The third will be the same level of detail as the dining area one but involve the loft entrance, couch, table behind the couch, etc. I need a quote for it and I'm thinking possibly "Welcome home, TK" but I have a couple other ideas too. This pattern will likely take a few hours to create and it's something I'm excited to get working on either in November or maybe during the time off I have at the end of December.

A Carlos Project that would be a companion piece to my current TK Project. I have a list of ideas for it on my phone, but that's as far as I've gotten.

A Lou the First cross stitch with the quote "You brought a flesh-eating reptile into our home?!"

Another Lou one that's kind of ridiculous but I would love to do it if I could pull it off. It would be "He wasn't eating it. He was just...hanging out" with a little Lou poking out of a leg 😂

The fourth in my Loft Series--I want something involving Carlos' punching bag and TK's salad from 3x11. That's as far as I've gotten.

Then I have a variety of quotes that just feel like they should be cross stitches but I haven't thought of solid ideas to go with them (and if anyone has ideas, I would love to hear them!):

Marjan's quote "I'm allergic to poor leadership."

Judd's quote "I wasn't even me 'til I met you."

"Hi. You're TK. I'm Carlos. And we're soulmates." (this one is part of the TK Project, but I think it also deserves its own)

"If I'm your friend from work, then what we did this morning was very unprofessional."

"When you're in yoga clothes, I'm not a very good talker."

"In this house, we Catan."

"Tyler, can I say yes now?"

2. Which WIP is your most complex?

Of the ones I'm actively working on, the TK Project is the most complex. Of the planned future WIPs, it would probably be the third in the loft series, as it's intended to have the same level of detail as the loft dining area piece I recently finished. That one was definitely the most complex I've done up until this point.

3. Do any of your WIPs involve you using a technique/style that you haven't used before? What inspired you to try it?

The ones I've listed really don't, but I do have some vague ideas of branching out into some Lone Star embroidery. I'd need to come up with the right idea for it, but it's something I might try working with when I have time off over the holidays.

4. Which WIP do you expect will take you the longest?

Of the ones I'm actively working on, TK Babe/Baby will definitely take the longest. It will probably take at least 4-5 weeks to complete once I really get going with it.

5. Which WIP are you finding the most enjoyable to create?

I'm really loving the TK Project. It's made up of a bunch of little images and quotes, so it's really fun to see it come together as I complete each individual section.

6. Do you have a favourite character to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

The majority of my projects are TK/Carlos/Tarlos related due to the fact that I often think of little else.

7. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

The loft entrance/third in my Loft Series definitely gives me the most self-doubt. Mostly because it will be a detailed pattern. I'm still fairly new to pattern creation on that level.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of creator's block?

I haven't had any stitcher's block yet, thankfully. I've been stitching non-stop since April and, as I've made clear here, I still have more ideas than I can handle!

9. Do any of your WIPs contain characters outside the main ship? How are you finding creating those?

My first two projects were the Lone Star logo and an Owen quote. Every other one, including the WIPs that I'm actively working on, has been TK/Carlos/Tarlos related. So I guess I don't branch out from that main ship much! I would like to in the future, and a couple on my ideas list do involve quotes from other characters.

10. What emotions are you hoping to convey through your WIPs?

Mostly the joy and love I experience through Lone Star and Tarlos.

11. Are there any features/details you are finding challenging in your WIPs?

A challenging element of TK Babe/Baby will be the use of the comically large hoop. It has a 23 inch diameter so I can only stitch with it while sitting on my bed because I need somewhere spacious to rest the hoop otherwise my arms get too tired.

12. Which WIP has the most complex shading/colouring?

Probably the loft entrance, the third in my Loft Series. The thing that I think will be the most challenging is the couch, particularly managing to show the shape and dimensions of it properly. I'm not sure how I'm going to get it to look right, but I'm looking forward to messing around with it with my pattern making software. I'm not particularly skilled or experienced with using color gradients to show shadows/dimensions, but I guess I'm going to have to learn!

13. Which WIP has the most complex background?

Same as the last answer, since pretty much the whole thing will be background.

14. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for?

Again, same answer. I want it to meet the expectations set by the loft dining area piece I recently finished. I was thrilled with how that one turned out, so I really hope I'll be equally satisfied with this one.

15. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

I don't think I've ever dreamed about cross stitching. I spend so much time doing it that it seems like I would have by now, though.

16. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other art doesn't?

The TK Project involves several French Knots, which is a different type of stitch that can be very finicky. @reasonandfaithinharmony knows what I mean!

17. Are any of your WIPs commissions?

I haven't done any commissions so far. It's not something I'm necessarily opposed to, so if someone is interested, feel free to dm me and we can talk about it! I just have a lot of my own ideas to work through and cross stitch generally takes a pretty long time to complete, so anyone looking for commissions would need to be ok with waiting a while. Also, I might be willing to mail some of my previously finished pieces to anyone who's interested (due to the unfortunate cost of shipping, this is probably going to have to be limited to people in the US and Canada). There are some that I'm not willing to part with, but I think I've almost reached display capacity, even with many finished projects stored in a box under my bed, so it might be nice for some of the others to find a home.

18. Do you have a character that is more difficult to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?

The majority of my projects so far have been centered on quotes. I don't think any one character is more or less difficult to depict in that way. However, I have run into one issue like that...one of my future ideas is for a Carlos Project that's a companion to my current TK Project. I'm finding it a lot more difficult to come up with ideas for little images and quotes to represent Carlos than it was for TK. One problem might be that I'm reluctant to go stitching a bunch of cop imagery.

19. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

The stitched portion of TK Babe/Baby will be about 16 inches x 15 inches in size.

If the third in the Loft Series is anything like the loft dining area piece, it will probably take me somewhere around 80-100 hours of work to complete.

I feel like everyone has been tagged, but I'm going to follow the directions and tag 11 people, one for each of my listed WIPs: @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @carlos-tk @inkweedandlizards @rosedavid @thebumblecee @reasonandfaithinharmony @redshirt2 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-in-glasses

(And here's the original post that has the questions for writers if you need that!)

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Saw a post about how Being Lonely in Childhood Makes You Lonely Forever, and I simply don't think that's the truth. A part of you will always remember, but you can grow past your childhood traumas, you know. Trauma doesn't define you if you don't let it.

But it made me think. I'm listening to a voice message right now and it just... "Did I care what they think? Did I care what they said behind my back?"

The good thing about being ostracized my entire time in school, the good thing about people always talking behind my back, the good thing about being bullied no matter what I did, is that I learned that it's okay if people disapprove of me. I could still be myself, with or without them.

Maybe I just don't relate to those people on the post because I was always more independent and my outcast status never hurt my feelings unless someone was actively bullying me in that moment. Hell, THAT didn't even hurt me in high school.

I had developed my love of skirts at age 14 and people mockingly called me "the girl that never wears pants" my entire three years in that high school. Those who knew me from middle school knew me as "Seabiscuit" because I would run down the hallways to get to class on time. Even for the most innocuous inconsequential things, I was picked on. And I recognized it for the bullshit it was even then.

But I was okay being different. I was genuinely okay with being lonely. I made peace with my status as an outcast. I wore being "weird" like a badge of honor. I wanted to be accepted for who I was, yes, but I had never had any real desire to "fit in". If pandering to them was what it took to fit in, why would I want to do that? If they didn't like me for being myself, I simply didn't care because I didn't want to be with people that make you change who you are anyways.

I've always been INCREDIBLY introverted, introspective, and perfectly happy to play on my own. I was like twelve years old when I saw my mother's poster with that quote from Thoreau that I already related to and adored: "I have found no companion so companionable as solitude."

Solitude was not my consolation prize.

Not that it's invalid to be hurt for that, of course! Not everyone ENJOYS being alone as much as I do. It was never a "defense mechanism". It wasn't a trauma response. And I'm just saying, I would appreciate it if people didn't project their feelings on childhood solitude to everyone else who was a "lonely girl". Because I was alone, yes, but I reveled in it. I enjoyed it. I was content with my lot.

I could've done without the bullying, of course, but even as a child I was able to shake it off and hold my head high because I didn't want, or need, their approval.

So yeah, stop generalizing your experience as everyone else's. Not all of us were desperate to fit in, you know.

[commonmexicanname]

We were told visually that Aziraphale would become the Supreme Archangel

When we are first introduced to Aziraphale and Crowley, they are facing the right side of the screen, what a lot of us link to being east. Makes sense since he's guarding the eastern gate.

But Az is on the left and after this, Az faces the left side of the screen. From their introduction, he's almost always to the left or facing the left side of the screen.

"Yes, the angel is always on the left. We've known that! It's supposed to represent the angel being on your left shoulder."

Right, but you know what else is represented on the left?

I can't claim that this was all done on purpose from the very beginning, but it was fun finding this. We were shown from the very beginning that Aziraphale would replace Gabriel and become the Supreme Archangel.

Then again, it could all have just been a coincidence.

What do the hands of God mean?

I asked myself the same thing! Welcome to the brain rot religious rabbit hole portion of this post. Running away is encouraged.

When I found this connection, I decided to delve a little deeper to see what exactly are the symbolisms and meanings behind the left hand of God. I was hoping to see if there was anything about being the left hand of God was somehow connected to Aziraphale and could give us a fun "this is sooo him" description. Kinda like getting the results of a personality test!

Spoiler alert, there isn't much to go off on:

The left hand is paradoxical, you say? It works in indirect and subtle ways? Almost sounds like the actions and decisions of a certain angel! It was a good start, until I kept going.

I couldn't find a lot of bible quotes about the left hand of God. What I did find were people's thoughts and interpretations of the left hand. There wasn't really a consensus because whenever I'd find one speculation or explanation, I'd find something that contradicted it. Some say it represents judgement, some say it represents a "self-deification and bow to no one" attitude. In some beliefs, the left hand represents evil and those who are born left handed were forced to use their right hand instead, although that's mostly a thing of the past now. Simply put, all I found were people disagreeing about what the left hand is all about. (heh) It's all a bit... complicated.

Then I pulled back and noticed that the conversations of the left hand reminded of the conversations around Aziraphale. Then my brain spiraled into thinking that maybe, just maybe, the fact that there's disagreement on the left hand was actually what the creators wanted the fandom to be like with Aziraphale. To cause this whole "actually bad! actually good!" contradictory thinking. That is the left hand is Aziraphale connection my brain latched on, the people's conversation! MIND BLOWINGLY CREATIVE WRITING IF INTENTIONAL!

*deep breath* Anyway!

If I now convinced myself to think God's Left Hand is Aziraphale coded, what about the Right Hand and it's meaning? Well, it just so happens that there are so many quotes about God's right hand:

10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. 11 All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish. Isaiah 41

That sounds rather protective to me. Almost as protective as a certain demon towards a certain angel. So far so good! Very generally speaking though, the right hand represents the power of a god. The very general consensus is that the right hand of God represents omnipotence. Something an occult being would need in order to say... create stars, galaxies, nebulas and even stop time.

Hmm, I wonder who is the right hand of God...

Ah darn, so close. That could've worked so well with a certain demon always being on the right.

A demon that got to hang out with the right hand of God...

Jesus said to James and John: "but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not for me to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared." Mark 10:40

It could all still just be a serendipitous and unplanned coincidence.

[denimbex1986]

'If you go look at the Patreon-exclusive Discord thread I have for this episode—and yeah, I recognize this is an extremely venal opening sentence—there’s a moment where I note that the second pre-released clip, with the “David Tennant spits out ‘the Toymaker’ in the same voice he did ‘the Macra’” moment, was squarely at the twenty minute mark, and where I bet on another big turn at 40. And yes, I knew my spoilers and was expecting bi-generation, but I still just want to start by pointing out the fucking clockwork of it. In fact there’s another turn at roughly 30–that’s where the “return to 2023” beat happens, neatly bisecting the second act. And I think that’s key, in the face of the sheer, stupid cheek of this episode, to understanding why it works so well.

I mean, it’s worth saying it out loud, just so I can get it quote-posted on Tumblr—a pantsless Ncuti Gatwa emerges like Athena, instantly establishes himself as the faggiest Doctor ever to fag, then hits the TARDIS with a giant mallet because “we won the game, you get a prize honey” to split it in two so that David Tennant can be the Doctor forever. You can’t make it up, not least because Russell T Davies already did. It sounds like a joke, and in many ways is—the clue’s in the title and all. It was essentially spoiler-proofed, because anyone who’s the sort of fan that’s pouring over spoilers reads that and is just left wondering how this could possibly work out. And the answer is that it’s being done by a damn maestro of the form who understands how to structure the mother of all throat clears before you go and reset the show for gen alpha TikTok users.

The central trick is, of course, that third act pivot into doing a multi-Doctor story for the anniversary after all, with David Tennant having turned out to be the past Doctor all along. That is, above all else, simply fabulous television, and Davies understands that all you actually have to do is put it on a platter. Everything around it is just a series of decisions about tone—an almost mechanistic execution of scaffolding to ensure that moment is a thunderous drop that sends the dance floor wild instead of landing with a damp thud of authorial perversity. It’s fitting that he has the Toymaker attack through television because at the end of the day this operates through literally nothing save for the fact that Davies understands how to use the medium to engineer what is at the end of the day its original pleasure—its creation of cultural events. At the end of the day, there are rules, and Davies knows how to play.

Much as with Rose, there’s a real temptation to break it down scene by scene, but this is the fast reaction, so let’s work in outline. Like I said, three act structure. Act one uses a cold open to put two premises on the table: Neil Patrick Harris is a weird evil guy and he’s done something to television. Then, on the other side of the credits, it shows Harris again as an evil clown and has him wave goodbye and exit the story. Davies proceeds to enter the UNIT show—a backdoor pilot for an entirely coherent Kate Stewart show complete with whatever the fuck the V’linx is besides an absolutely gorgeous reveal (one of the rules there—if the Doctor just accepts something so will the viewer). We tarry in its pleasures a bit—reintroduce Shirley, reveal/establish Mel, and give everyone a couple good beats, including for the first time bothering to use the fact that you’ve got Jemma Redgreave in the part (her shattered horror at her own actions and apology to Shirley!). And we have the Doctor and Donna catch up with the cold open, untangling the “evil television” thing so it can be explained more slowly to the viewer. Twenty minutes in, he dutifully brings Harris back, catching the other ball thrown by the cold open and moving into the second act.

As I noted, this one’s bifurcated. We do ten minutes of spooky horror set pieces while we reiterate the emotional beats from Wild Blue Yonder (another rule there—explain something twice to the audience in rapid succession and they’ll both understand it and understand it as important), split the Doctor and Donna up, give them each a scene’s worth of puppet horror, then get them back together so the Doctor can confront the Toymaker. This mostly just means monologue set pieces—Davies rolls out a bit of rhythmic poetry and gives it to a good actor. We gesture at the past, then conspicuously throw a ball for the future to catch, thus reminding the audience there is one. And in a puff of smoke we vanish back to 2023, crashing the Toymaker back into the first premise. Ten more minutes of the UNIT show round out the act, anchored by the musical number because hey, you did hire Harris for the part, and then do a monologue duel before the Toymaker kills the Doctor fifteen minutes early to kick off the third act.

And it is here, of course, that Davies makes his move. At first it looks like we’re just going to do a shock pivot to Gatwa, which is already clever—an unexpected use of the rules right as the narrative collapses, like you do. And then we do a record-scratch moment—literally, as Gold cuts the soundtrack—use the Doctor accepting something to sell it (lol at the shrugged reprise of “feel’s different this time”), swirl the lights a different color, strike up the band a second time, and bigenerate (even bigger lol at splitting the triple what across characters).

From here, everything hinges on one bet—the same bet, ultimately, that everything hinges on in the larger cultural context. Davies has given us two hours and forty minutes of nostalgic greatest hits reprises. Now he needs to give us twenty minutes of Gatwa being phenomenal. There’s scaffolding, of course—it’s the mother of all “use the predecessor’s cast to establish the new guy” new Doctor stories, and an astonishing amount of the heavy lifting is done by Tennant’s no doubt entirely sincere reinvention of his character as “past Doctor fannishly awe-struck by the future.” But at the end of the day it comes down to Gatwa. And what can you say but that you see why Davies gave him the part.

There’s a trick that’s useful sometimes in analyzing horror films where you figure out the theme by just literally stating the premise—It Follows is about how the stigma of sexuality follows women, Us is about how Black people have suppressed second selves, Tetsuo the Iron Man is about the constant agony of living in an industrialized society. And here it seems relevant to note that Gatwa defeats the Toymaker through sheer physicality. In his underwear. Which is to say that his performance is electric and charismatic—an instantly libidinous Doctor so charming the plot stops mattering, collapsing instead into a queer-off between Gatwa and Harris. Gatwa wins, of course—how could he not with all that beach-off experience from Barbie—and Harris is ushered offstage with ten minutes to go.

All that remains is for Tennant to hand over the keys, which he does with grace, dutifully reprising the Time Lord Victorious in all its burnt out horror so that Gatwa can pull him into a hug and say “I’ve got you” before sending him off to heal himself in a queer platonic relationship with Donna. Gatwa’s the Doctor now. It happened, just about five hours ago. It’s majestic. I can’t wait for more.

* So here’s the most criminal act of burying the lede I’ll ever commit. TARDIS Eruditorum Volume 8 is out. Covering the strange and surreal wilderness years of Paul McGann and the show’s triumphant return in the birth of what I suppose is now the RTD1 era. I’m hitting publish on the ebook edition as we speak, so it might be a bit before it’s live on Amazon—here’s the Smashwords link, which is live now if you want to use that—but the paperback is available for order right now and will arrive before Christmas.

* Also, my Patrons have my Wild Blue Yonder podcast with Eruditorum Press’s very own Jack Graham and Christine Kelley. It features Jack learning, live on the air, what the Timeless Child is. I’ll be doing one on The Giggle with Kate Orman and Jon Blum, and I’m delighted to announce that I’ll be joined by Rachel Stott and Penn Wiggins for The Church on Ruby Road in two weeks. Patrons also get all my ebooks automatically, by the way.

* As for Church on Ruby Road, man, that trailer looks fun. Introducing the Doctor in a club is breathtakingly fresh, and the trailer handles the goblins reveal so well. The whole thing looks completely mad. Can’t wait to hear the single on Monday.

* So, um… Tennant and Tate pretty much have to come back some day, right? Like, Davies has season finales to execute, and he’s not going to leave a gun that big just sitting on the mantlepiece, is he?

* A detail I like is that this mirrors the plot of Journey’s End, right down to the spare Doctor going off and living a quasi-normal life with the companion. There’s a lot of quiet parallels to be had here actually—the fact that Rose was also a toymaker, for instance, or the fact that the Toymaker and the Not-Things largely share motivations. All left entirely to subtext, acting as thematic reverb to give the episode more heft and weight.

* For all that it’s funny to read the lack of Chibnall companions in the Toymaker’s monologue as a dig, the real shade is being playfully thrown at Moffat for his tic of fake-killing companions. Once that’s gone three iterations, Davies structurally has to move on and so captures the Chibnall era in a reprise of the Flux angst from Wild Blue Yonder. No, the Chibnall shade is “I made a jigsaw of your history. Did you like it?”

* Speaking of the rule of three, using “Mavic Chen” to round out a list with the Time War and the Pandorica is god tier.

* All right, all right, I’m obliged to give my Toymaker take. Which is that Davies is very clever retconning the Toymaker as a character who just likes doing absurd caricatures of various nationalities. It doesn’t actually make The Celestial Toymaker any better, but it’s enough to salvage the character for a reprise.

* The more interesting reprise to my mind is Mel. We knew she was coming back for Gatwa, so her appearance here is more a moment of fleeting surprise, but it’s yet another example of Davies’s cool-eyed savviness—Bonnie Langford is by an order of magnitude the highest profile actor to serve as a classic series companion, and as with Jemma Redgrave Davies doesn’t have to do much more than actually give her stuff to do. The callback to her nonexistent debut story to establish her as an orphan is such a deft bit of characterization, and an intriguing parallel to Ruby, and for that matter the Timeless Child, whether or not that’s ever picked up on explicity.

* Which, it has to be said, gives at least some setup justification for bigeneration, if only because it justifies a slightly more “eh fuck it” take on regeneration in general. I gather Davies goes further in this direction on the commentary, which I’ll catch before I do the podcast.

* The fact that the Toymaker claims to have killed God is given entertaining credibility by trapping the Guardians in voodoo dolls and the Master in a gold tooth. Which, love the “cultist hand saves the Master” reprise.

* The invocation of the Gods of Ragnarok makes the absence of Fenric conspicuous. Think I’ll place a long shot bet on him as the big bad for Gatwa’s first season.

* By far the best bit of continuity fetishism, however, is the Alex Jones remake of Trinity Wells.

* Also if you complain that I said Gatwa was pantsless because he was properly just trouserless I will fire you into the sun.

* Let’s close this out with a note on Fourteen, even if we’re probably not saying goodbye to him. First of all, I love him accepting regeneration calmly—“it’s time” instead of “I don’t want to go,” and a cavalier “allons-y” to match Whittaker’s “tag you’re it.” But more to the point, I love the Doctor relaxing into found family, building force fields for his beloved moles, happier than he’s ever been in his life. Tennant commented that he and Davies largely decided to approach the task of how to handle the fact that this version of Tennant’s Doctor is older by just assuming that the fact that they were both older would come through. And I think there’s nowhere that’s clearer than Davies having the Doctor find peace in a distinctly queer shape of love.

Rankings

1. The Giggle

2. Wild Blue Yonder

3. The Star Beast'

[unsociableandtaciturnbarbie]

As I believe I’ve mentioned previously, I have read Sense and Sensibility before. What I have not mentioned previously, out of respect for spoilers, is that when I finished Sense and Sensibility, on a January evening in 2021, I promptly slammed the book shut and stormed into my mother’s room to rant. What could have earned this book a 3.5/5 rating (note: my rating scale sometimes extends to ∞/5 so this is a very low score) and the comment, “Excuse me? What was that ending???” in my Google Sheets reading log? Simply put: it was Elinor and Colonel Brandon not ending up together.

I will readily admit that I got into Austen for the romance; it’s hard not to when your first exposure to her works is Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and you’re a romance-obsessed 16 year old. Thus, a pairing of characters which I deemed unsuitable entirely ruined most of my enjoyment of the book at the time. This year, I decided to read Sense and Sensibility with a more open mind and a determination to like Edward as a love interest. Unfortunately, Edward still fell (quite) short for me. As someone who sees a lot of myself in Elinor with a brother who has Marianne tendencies, I can’t help but wish Elinor the absolute best. I just wanted to see her hard work constantly caring for her sister (who gets herself into such avoidable trouble) pay off. Yet, Marianne somehow ends up with the best option, and reluctantly at that! At this point, I should state that I cannot possibly do justice to the level of research (read: obsession) I have done into this in one Tumblr post. Here’s a meme I threw together that I think encapsulates it (picture me as the guy in the tie, my annotated book as the board behind him, and my roommate as the woman just barely in frame) (I’m serious, my roommates did not know the plot of Sense and Sensibility before this week):

Despite my best intentions, by the middle of Volume 2 I was highlighting every phrase that I thought could possibly mean that Elinor and Brandon were meant to be together- some may call it willful misunderstanding, I call it careful analysis. Example 1: Of Mrs. Dashwood saying that Marianne would be happier to marry Colonel Branon than Elinor, “Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, because satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their age, characters, or feelings, could be given (254) .” Was this likely meant to serve as a way to show Mrs. Dashwood’s over-sensibility and lack of sense for basic facts like age? Yes. Does the word “feelings” at the end of this quote send me into a tailspin of possibilities of what that could mean? Also yes. In the interest of your time, I will not put them all here, but I have a collection of quotes which I am willing to share. Additionally, as proof that there are other believers out there, here is a reddit thread about them for your perusal, and my favorite comment!

I could say much more on the subject of Elinor and Colonel Brandon themselves, but I’m going to restrain myself here and focus more on the fanfiction which I provided as the center for my post today. This fic is titled Added Sensibility and is a 19 chapter WIP (work-in-progress). For those unaware, fanfiction is a wonderful online world of writing where anything can happen to any character that has ever existed. Do you think Harry Potter’s  Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger should have ended up together? There’s fanfiction about that! Do you wish Rey and Kylo Ren of the Star Wars Sequels got to live happily ever after together? There’s fanfiction about that too! This last example would be what is termed a “Fix-it” fic in the fanfiction world. These are based on the idea that if you think something went wrong somewhere in a piece of fiction, you can go back and “fix it” for yourself… and the entire internet. Elinor and Colonel Brandon ending up together is something I would deem to be a “fix-it”. Thus, I went straight to AO3 (Archive Of Our Own- a popular fanfiction publishing website) and searched for Colonel Brandon/Elinor Dashwood. Side note: This was actually the second fic I tried for this week’s post. The first was only 6 chapters but wrapped up quickly with Marianne running away to join the feminist movement along with Colonel Brandon’s ward. It was not what I wanted, so I gave Added Sensibility a try even though I would normally not touch a WIP.

I can attest 10 chapters (the equivalent of 134 ebook pages on my phone) in that this is a great read. It’s not Jane Austen, no one will ever be able to replicate her masterful use of language to create layer after layer of sharp wit, but it’s pretty good in my opinion. There’s enough plot and character development present so that it’s not a totally 2d story, but the main focus is on their developing love story, starting from when Elinor and Marianne go to stay with Mrs. Jennings in town. What really caught my attention (besides my glee at someone having written Elinor and Colonel Brandon together pretty much exactly the way I wanted it) was the characterization of Mrs. Jennings. The author once writes of Mrs. Jennings, “The woman was the complete opposite of an enigma, and yet, Elinor struggled to comprehend her thoughts.” In class we talked about how Mrs. Jennings seems to be so close to “getting it” sometimes, but then she just turns back into this very flat and gossipy character. In this fanfic, the author seems to go through with it and gives her more dimension and credit for intelligence than I think Jane Austen ever meant to, but it brings me back to when we talked about the idea that you can pull any character out of an Austen novel and write a novel on them. This fanfic really supports that for me. While Elinor and Colonel Brandon were characters who have had their characters decently sketched out in Sense and Sensibility, this fanfic gives dimension to other characters, like Mrs. Jennings, who previously were more of the backdrop for where the Dashwoods existed. I do think Jane Austen is rolling in her grave over the amount of ungloved hand contact and improperly private conversations that occur in this fanfic, but I will 100% own to being the target audience for the American ending of Pride and Prejudice (2005), so all the mushy gushy affection in this fanfic is right up my alley. Overall, I would recommend this fanfic and I will be finishing it in my free time!

[solarsavoy]

I posted 747 times in 2022

That's 720 more posts than 2021!

261 posts created (35%)

486 posts reblogged (65%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@heyhellohihowareyou

@bismuthwisdom

@averagemafuyukinnie

@henbit-7

@ao3feed-assassin-class

I tagged 684 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#assassination classroom - 118 posts

#solarsavoyart - 97 posts

#solarsavoyasks - 89 posts

#daily delivery - 79 posts

#solarsavoyfics - 70 posts

#nagisa shiota - 44 posts

#ao3 fanfic - 43 posts

#20 days of assassination classroom 2022 - 43 posts

#karma akabane - 41 posts

#krystar - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#because im a writer that talks to my characters as though they were real and running rp accounts pretending to be them how do i know im not

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

No one asked, but I really wanted to answer it!

Ask game.

3 - 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

And I actually have 4 so... Here we go!

Treasure Planet. So underrated, which is totally unfair. Beautiful story and one of the few (if not only) Disney movies that don't have a love interest for the MC. It's all about growing up and finding yourself and found family. In fact, just realized, Jim is like Stag in that regard. Both were abandoned at a young age by their fathers and became rebellious to the point of being impossible to deal with until their father figure came into their life. And also, never having a father of my own to look up to, this really resonates with me. Haha, Deshi's dad left him at a young age too. I'm sensing a theme. 😆 Unlike Stag though, Deshi doesn't need a father figure in the sense that he's not looking for one nor does he find one. (Although Lord Carroll does get close...)

Sinbad, another underrated film. By Dreamworks this time. The most alluring part of this film:

That fucking hair!!! Man, I could just watch how her hair flows forever. Like, nobody has ever made hair that moves like this before, or since! It's close to underwater hair, but not quite, so Little Mermaid doesn't count. But seriously, that fucking hair. And Sinbad is pretty funny. 😆 Most quoted scene between Deo and I, a dude gets thrown up by a sea monster, shakes it off, and goes to attack again. "Give that guy a raise." -Sinbad Yes, please. He deserves it. 😀👍

Anastasia. I loved this movie growing up. Rasputin what such a terrifying bad guy, and Anastasia was anything but weak. Despite it not being a Disney flick at the time, it broke the mold on Disney princesses. Tangled and Frozen hadn't come out yet and Anastasia was the only princess to do what she wants, when she wants, how she wants. Instead of the man saving her from some evil villain, he saves her in the very beginning from a threat to the royal family. And then she saves herself from Rasputin at the end. Well, and Dimitri, because, you know, he was hanging off a bridge. So many movies before this were misogynistic and so many after are so feminist that they really diss on males, but in Anastasia, they are equals simply facing the world together, and to me, that's just beautiful. And this:

See the full post

28 notes - Posted August 22, 2022

#4

20 Days of Assassination Classroom 2022!

I totally meant to hype up the challenge like Hailey did with MaeIso week and didn't. 😅 Anyway, the 20 day Assassination Classroom challenge starts in 3 days! Get your drawings ready!

32 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#3

20 Days of Assassination Classroom 2022, Day 20

Episode 1...

See the full post

33 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

#2

20 Days of Assassination Classroom 2022, Day 1

It's a tie. I couldn't help it. 💙

Small reminder of the rules: just reblog the latest reblog with your additional answer to keep the chain going! A new post will be made for each day. No time limit to reblog. Enjoy!

37 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Saw someone else post a pic of an older version of Danny and I just had to add my own. ^^ It was done a year and a half ago, but I hope yall like it!

48 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dsabian]

BBC Merlin version with immortal Merlin and reincarnated Arthur. It's not vampires but it was inspired by a screenshot I saw of the above posts, so:

Incrimination, Misplaced Paperwork and Smug Clotpoles - DSabian - Merlin (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Story under the keep reading

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: M/M

Fandom: Merlin (TV)

Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Gen or Pre-Slash, Slash if you squint, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Reincarnation, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Immortal Merlin (Merlin)

Language: English

“So what, exactly, was that?”

“Shut up you prat.”

“Oi, technically still King.”

“Not even remotely in any way anything other than a dollophead.”

Arthur gave that frown that drew his eyebrows closer to his nose and his lips closer to a pout and his whole face closer to adorable and Merlin just threw up his arms and turned to stalk away. Arthur crossed his arms and refused to move. Imperious bastard.

Merlin stopped and, rolling his eyes in a way that moved his entire head, turned back to face his Once and Future Clotpole.

“You can’t stay in the museum pouting Arthur, it’s closing time.”

“I’m a visiting dignitary, they won’t mind.”

Merlin face palmed himself and then counted to ten in the way his councillor from the 1800’s had taught him.

“What are you doing?” asked Arthur, pout still firmly in place.

“Not vaporising you,” answered Merlin, practically growling. “Give me a minute.”

Arthur simply huffed and Merlin kind of missed the old, scared of magic Arthur. This new ‘there’s no way a beanstalk like you could ever be scary, lightning or no lightning’ Arthur was much less manageable. That and Merlin had sworn not once but twice that he had only ever used his magic for Arthur. He supposed he should be thankful Arthur’s lack of fear showed, unequivocally, that he believed Merlin’s vow.

“Arthur, you have no proof of your claim of royalty and we will be escorted out by security if you don’t come now.”

Arthur sniffed and then abruptly stopped pouting, a small smile coming to his face.

Not good, decided Merlin, his own stance becoming defensive. If he were a cat, his hair would be on end right down to the tip of his swishing tail.

“You know leaving isn’t going to make me stop asking. Or thinking about it. Or coming back tomorrow.” And then his eyes lit up, “or even taking a ‘pic’ of it on my ‘phone’.”

Merlin closed his eyes and ran through the 7 – 8 – 4 breathing technique his 20th century councillor had taught him.

“Don’t put air quotes on normal words Arthur. In fact, don’t put air quotes on anything. You’ve not been a Gen Y long enough to have ‘earned’ the right.”

“You just did it!”

“I’ve been alive for forever. I’ve earned the right to do all of the things.”

Arthur huffed again and got his phone out of his pocket, mashing the home button and dragging up on the screen to access the photo app and why had Merlin ever taught him anything, ever?

“No, Arthur, come back,” Arthur was storming off in the opposite direction, very much not listening to Merlin, “Arthur, it’s illegal, Arthur! Damnit! Fuck.” Merlin had no choice but to go after him. “If you get me banned from my favourite museum on this continent I swear I will turn you into a toad, vows and promises be damned! Arthur!”

“Oh settle down Merlin, you can just change how you look and come back whenever you want, besides,” Arthur snapped the pic of the offending document and his tone, his face, his everything went smug, “it’s done now.”

Merlin closed his eyes and pictured a peaceful stream on a hillside and holding Arthur’s big smug stupid head under the water like the internet had taught him. He opened his eyes. “So can we go then?”

“Yes.” Still smug. Clotpole. “Shall we get Indian on the way home?” Slightly less of a clotpole. “And one of those fancy laties you like so much from that place on the corner.” Maybe not so clotpolish as Merlin had first thought, though he was pretty sure Arthur was mispronouncing lattes on purpose. “Then you can explain this letter to me.” Clotpole. Complete and utter clotpole. Merlin had no idea why his fate was entwined with the biggest clotpole ever to be born. Twice. If walking out of a lake fully formed several hundred years after your death counted as rebirth. Bloody buggering bugger.

Merlin scowled, threw up his arms and stalked out of the museum, his slightly longer legs forcing Arthur to trot a few steps to catch up.

“You are a smug prat and I regret ever writing that thing, let alone losing track of it and having it end up on mortifying public display for all time.”

Arthur just laughed, the combination of his mirth and the cold January air turning his cheeks rosy. Merlin covered his own sudden rush of warmth at the sight with a scowl and strode down the stairs two at a time. He did wrap them both in a warming spell as he went, despite his ire, because he might be irked, but it was still January in Amsterdam and Merlin wasn't an idiot. Arthur kept pace with him, completely unaffected by the warlock’s ire. People should be more affected by a warlock’s ire, Merlin thought. He had incredible power at his fingertips and absolutely no respect whatsoever. It was completely unfair.

Arthur stayed quiet while they went to the corner and got Merlin’s latte. He stayed quiet while they ordered Indian from the one place in Amsterdam Merlin could get his fix of Newari style Chunlaa Dhulo Masu made to his exacting standards.

He stayed quite while they ubered back to Merlin’s house in De Pijp.

Merlin was practically vibrating by the time they had finished eating and Arthur still hadn’t said anything more important than ‘yes I like dal now’.

As such, it was hardly his fault he almost dropped the tea pot and accidently, sort of, set the roof on fire when Arthur faux innocently asked, “So, the two hundred year old love letter you wrote to me that’s now in a Dutch museum…”

Thinking abt immortality and how meticulously you’d have to keep track of all of your shit so some nosy historian didnt spot your old journal or coat or copy of a book and call an infuriating time-based finders keepers

“It’s two hundred years old” they say. “It’s essentially public property” they say. It’s a letter you sent to your friend and it’s in a museum now and you’re screaming