#disclaimer: i'm sure she will be a wonderful mom. she's wanted to be a mom since high school at least and she's a very sweet caring person

[nomouthtospeakof]

facebook: i know you haven't been here for years but just so you know your best friend from years ago made a post

me: okay... ok you know what yeah let's see how she's doing!

her post: People called us crazy for it but we're growing our family early! Say hello to our new puppy!!

me: awww nice :) (doesn't know what she means by "early") (scrolls down)

next post: So happy to be celebrating my first mother's day 🥰 My boyfriend and I have a daughter on the way!

me, twenty two years of age and still struggling to brush my teeth twice a day: you What

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[maidragoste]

The Parent Trap: Chapter One

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

Masterlist

Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. and this does not follow 100% the movie.

Daeron tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing sideways at his nephew. Since he started the trip, Baelon had not said a word, revealing his bad mood. Daeron knew he wasn't the reason for the boy's anger but he still couldn't help but feel bad for him. Aemond was supposed to be the one to take Baelon to summer camp but at the last moment a work meeting came up that he had to attend, although Daeron doubted it because it's not like it was a secret that Aemond is addicted to work, so now he is in charge of being his nephew's driver.

“I'm sure your father is as angry as you are that he can't come with you,” he said in an attempt to start a conversation. "He told me that he will do everything possible to come look for you when the camp is over," he added, hoping that would calm the boy's annoyance a bit.

“He is a liar. He won't do it ”said the boy without taking his eyes off the window” He had already promised to take me. ”

Baelon was upset. Just days before he was excited because his dad had said that they would have a road trip like in the movies and that he would take him to an amusement park where he was on the way to camp before dropping him off. It was supposed to be their last outing together because they wouldn't see each other for weeks. Sometimes Baelon couldn't help but think that his dad didn't really mind spending time with him, that he only did it because it was his obligation. Every time he thought that he ended up thinking about his mom. He knew she was alive—not because of his dad, he never talked about her—thanks to his uncle Aegon. It's a secret but when he came to visit for his birthday he always brought gifts from his mother. The first time his uncle cut him off from the rest of the party and gave him a gift from his mom was on his fifth birthday. He had been so excited that he wanted to run and tell everyone, but before he could, his uncle stopped him and told him that he couldn't tell anyone, not his friends, not his family, not even his dad. that it had to be a secret between them or her mom would never be able to send her a present again. Baelon had never seen his uncle so serious so he complied. He kept the secret and he looked forward to each new birthday waiting to see what his mom got him. Lately, he had been wondering what it would be like to live with her. Sometimes he dreamed that the next time his uncle came he would bring his mother with him. Other times he imagined that his uncle would show up as a surprise while his dad was away and tell him to pack everything for him to take with her. But deep down he knew it wouldn't happen. His uncle never told him what his mom's job was but Baelon supposed her job was busier than his dad's and that's why he stayed with him instead of her.

“It was a last-minute thing,” Daeron said.

"It's always something," Baelon grumbled, crossing his arms and this time Daeron couldn't come up with any excuse to defend his brother. In his opinion, Aemond wasn't the best father but he wasn't the worst either… At least he was better than his father. Viserys barely remembered the existence of him and his brothers. He was sure the man couldn't remember any of his birthdays or say anything he liked to his children. Aemond knew his son's hobbies and despite not spending much time at home whenever he was there he gave Baelon his full attention. But that wasn't enough to reward the canceled plans or his lack of presence at some school events.

"Open the glove box" he requested and Baelon glared at him before reluctantly opening it. Baelon's frown was left behind and a smile appeared in his place when he saw that his favorite snacks and sweets were there. “Your father couldn't take you but he had already bought things for the trip. He also gave me the address of the park where he wanted to take you so we can still go there ”Daeron took advantage of a red light to ruffle the boy's hair

"Your dad loves you, kid, don't forget that"

Normally you wouldn't let Aemon ride up front with you, in the passenger seat, but this was an exception because you wouldn't be seeing your baby for weeks so you wanted to get him as close as possible before you had to say goodbye. You'd think you'd be used to this after all this was Aemon's third year going to summer camp but even so, you always had a hard time saying goodbye. You would miss him immensely. But he liked to go and you were not going to deprive him of experiences just because it was difficult for you to have him away.

"Promise you won't continue reading Harry Potter without me," Aemon asked and you looked through the mirror to find that Aegon, who was sitting in the back next to Joffrey, just like you was smiling. You two were happy that your son was growing up and wanting to have his own things but it was sweet to the heart to know that he still wanted to spend time with the two of you and the three share moments like family readings every night.

"Don't worry, we won't read a single chapter without you," Aegon said as he picked up the stuffed dragon Joffrey dropped again. The baby seemed amused to see his dad bend down to retrieve his toy "But we'll probably watch the movies."

Aegon had never really been in the habit of reading. He hated every time at school they forced him to read a book. He preferred a thousand times to see a movie before reading the book. That took less time. But he became interested in reading after the first time Aemon asked him to join you in reading to him before going to sleep. Books were something his godson liked—which Aegon wasn't surprised knowing you and Aemond were total nerds—and he really wanted to bond with him so he started reading the books Aemon liked only to have more topics to talk about with him. Aemon's excitement when he understood what he was talking about made him more than satisfied. It didn't take long for him to stop seeing reading as homework and he began to really enjoy it thanks to Aemon and you.

"You can only see the first two" Aemon reminded him turning to face him seriously. The three have the tradition of first reading the book and once finished it would watching their movie. You hadn't finished reading The Prisoner of Azkaban yet so you were forbidden to watch the movies that follow Chamber of Secrets.

"Aemon, those movies have existed since before you were born and we saw them all when we were teenagers," Aegon said and he and baby Joffrey laughed at the boy's annoyed grimace.

"Don't worry, Aemon. I'm sure he doesn't remember anything. He barely paid attention when I made him watch the movies with me. He's just trying to annoy you" you said.

"In my defense, I was distracted by your beauty," Aegon said making you laugh.

Perhaps another child would be disgusted or uncomfortable that his parents were flirting in front of him but Aemon just looked at them curiously. He knew that they had known each other since they were very young, but he had no idea that Aegon seemed to have feelings for you since he was a teenager. He sometimes saw you and Aegon so in love and happy that he couldn't help but wonder how you ended up with his biological father before. It's not like you never talked about his father. He didn't know his name, you never called him by his name when you talked about him, but he knew some things like his father also liked to read a lot like him, that like him he practiced fencing when he was young, that he also had the light sleep. Baelon knew trivial things about his father but he didn't know anything about how your relationship with him was. Perhaps you had broken up with his father to be with his godfather? But that didn't make much sense to him because if it did he would have met Aegon sooner. He met his godfather when he was four years old, although he knew that Aegon had been a part of his life when he was a baby from the pictures in the family album that you showed him but something had happened in the middle so that you and Aegon stopped seeing each other.

"So what do you and Rickon plan to do this year?" you asked, snapping Aemon out of his thoughts. Wasting no time Aemon started talking excitedly about how this time he and his best friend would go hiking in the mountains.

Daeron parked in front of the camp cabins. There were already a lot of boys and girls. You could feel the excitement of everyone from the big smiles, the laughs, and the shouts. He hoped that Baelon's experience would be good and that he would be able to make friends. That something good would come of having him away from home. It would be weird these weeks without his nephew at home, surely it would be quieter. Vhagar would surely be depressed by Baelon's absence. He would miss it too. He had gotten into the habit of going to the park every afternoon to take the dogs out together and play ball—sometimes Adam and Nettes would come over too—then they would come home and watch silly reality shows while criticizing the contestants.

"Don't get in trouble, Baelon" he reminded his nephew and ruffled his hair again to the boy's annoyance "I love you"

"Dude, don't be weird. I had enough of grandma crying as if I were going to live on the other continent. I'll be fine” Baelon said before opening the door not wanting to see his uncle's face. He sighed and turned around again. "I love you too and I'm going to miss you," he said quickly before leaving to find his luggage. He barely got out of the car and grimaced when he began to hear the screams get louder.

Daeron hurried down to help him as he tried to ignore a boy's scream of “Aemon”. When he was removing the suitcase from the trunk of the car, a boy with dark hair and gray eyes appeared behind his nephew. He was tall though he didn't seem to be older than Baelon.

“Hey, Aemon, are you deaf? I was calling you” he said pouting. He didn't even give Baelon time to tell him that he was getting the wrong person when he took one of his platinum locks between his fingers. "Oh, you cut it off, I knew you were upset because Joffrey kept pulling your hair but I didn't think you'd do anything so drastic”

Baelon took the stranger's hand and pulled it away from his hair. He wasn't obsessed with taking care of his hair like his dad but it was rare for a stranger to feel free to touch him “I'm not Aemon. My name is Baelon"

"But you look just like Aemon" said the other boy with clear confusion "Why do you look just like Aemon?"

Baelon looked to his uncle for help, wanting Daeron to get him out of this situation, but Daeron seemed to be in a trance. For a moment he thought that his eyes were shiny but he dismissed it as a sun effect.

Daeron couldn't believe it. Aemon was going to be in the same camp as Baelon. At any moment he would arrive. He should be in a panic. He should be telling Baelon to get in the car to drive away because that's what Aemond would do. He should call his older brother. But he wouldn't do that. After years the twins had the opportunity to meet and he was not going to stop it. Baelon deserved to meet the rest of his family… But if he was there when you arrived with Aemon then you would be the one to leave. This couldn't happen. This was a unique opportunity. This one meeting could make life better for everyone.

“I have to go,” Daeron announced, slamming the trunk shut.

Baelon eyed daggers at him. He had just told him that he loved him and now he was leaving him with a complete freak, didn't he care about him? Definitely from now on Daeron was no longer his favorite uncle and when he returned home he would tell his grandma so that she would scold him.

"What's your name kid?" asked the adult looking at the boy with dark hair.

"Rickon" he replied, still without taking his eyes off Baelon. He wanted to touch his face to make sure it was real but he had a feeling that if he did then he would get hit.

"Baelon, you will stay with Rickon," Daeron ordered.

"What?!" Shouted his nephew with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

"Rickon, you will take Baelon to your cabin and wait until Aemon's mother leaves or whoever she brings him to introduce him to Baelon"

"Wait, do you know Aemon?" Baelon asked trying to understand what the hell was going on.

Daeron didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to tell him that of course, he knew Aemon. He remembered how scared he was the first time he picked him up, he remembered how little Aemon used to fall asleep in his arms, how when he learned to walk he used to follow him everywhere, and how he loved to give Tessarion kisses. On his phone, he has a folder with all of Aemon's photos. Every time he saw them he felt like he finished seeing them so fast. He wished he had taken more photos… Maybe after this camp, he could get new photos.

"Rickon, don't let Aemon's family see Baelon" he asked ignoring his nephew's question "Enjoy the camp," he said and got into the car ignoring Baelon's protests.

Daeron felt bad when he started the car, if he had time he might have stayed to explain to Baelon or try to prepare him for this surprise but you could show up at any moment. He couldn't risk you seeing him and deciding to leave.

When he thought he was far enough from the camp, he waited for the next red light to take his phone and call Aegon. He had to ask his brother if he knew that Aemon was going to the camp and that was why he had told Aemond that he should take Baelon there or was it just a fluke.

Aegon never responded.

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[lowkeyrobin]

Hiiii i love your writing so much!!!!

I was wondering if you could do a Uma(descendents) x fem!reader based off of the song casual by chappell roan (uma reminds me if the girl from casual)

Thank you so much if you do do this <33

hiii thank you! ; and yeah sure, I just wrote a miguel diaz oneshot based on this so sorry if it's super short and dumb cause it drained me a bit lol ; but thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

UMA HALI ; casual

summary ; it was merely casual

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is from auradon

track ; casual, chappell roan

word count ; 614

masterlist

"Was it casual when you saved me from Audrey? Was it casual when I almost died for you?" You nearly scream as you question her, wanting an answer.

She bites the inside of her cheek, unable to look at you. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, it's not okay! I thought we were something. I thought you loved me! What? Do you only love me on the Isle where you're safe, where you're in charge?"

"No, it's not like that!"

"Really? What's it like then? Cause this whole relationship feels like it can only thrive in an environment under a terms and conditions list where you thrive. I thought it was different this time"

"Y/n-"

"It's like you just see us as some casual thing, me as a casual thing when you need me, but seek validation from other people. It's like you're just using me to experiment cause you've never been with an Auradon kid."

Her expression turns to one of regret and sorryness, like she wanted to fix this but knew she couldn't.

You scoff, turning away, throwing a backpack full of her things at her. You slam the door in her face, leaving you and Evie alone in the room. Evie opens her arms for you, allowing you to jump into her for comfort.

She silently rubs your back, allowing your tears to flow.

"Maybe you just weren't meant to be" She speaks

"I wish we were"

Moving on from her was awful.

Everything reminded you of her.

Your friends called you a loser, just to joke, because you were still hanging around.

You always thought about those two words.

"No attachment"

What did that even mean?

Why was that not the first red flag?

Fuck, within two weeks you'd met her mom and she invited you over for dinner. You thought you had something.

Evie brings you outside, having grown tired of watching you cry and sulk, taking down your turquoise, cyan and gold decor that you put up for Uma. All sorts of shells and nets and jellyfish you'd crafted hung from your ceiling and walls. You put them up to make her feel more at home, but she hated it.

Evie drags you away from the unfinished organization, walking you out to a private spot in the woods. She carries a satchel on her shoulder, and stops in the middle of a trail.

You turn to her confused, watching as she pulls two small pots out of her satchel. She hands them to you, which you awkwardly accept.

"Scream. Throw these, hit things. Do something" She speaks. "I'll walk away, just let your emotions out. Okay? Scream about everything you hate about her, all the deep dark secrets, everything. Pretend you're hitting her."

You nod, watching as she steps away, making her way down the trail where you'd came from. There was a bench at the start, so she'd probably sit there while you waited. As she disappears into the distance, you turn to a tree next to you, imagining Uma's face on it.

You'd set one of the pots down, both slightly rusty and clearly old, meant to be beaten around. You raise the one in your hand and beat the shit out of the tree, knocking a little piece of bark off of it. You definitely scared the squirrels and birds out, though.

You begin to scream, shouting and yelling out everything you needed to.

You looked rather crazy throwing pots around while screaming in the woods, but it was private, a raw moment where your emotions had exploded inside of you. Tears stream down your cheeks, landing on your shirt and the dirt below.

"Fuck you!"

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Happy Valentine's day Y/N 2.

Y/n x Pick your character.

You're not a huge fan of festivities, especially Valentine's day, but your best friend is more than ready to make you change your mind and maybe he's also ready to confess to you something you have been waiting for so long.

📢 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Ghost.

You and him have been friends since you were children, you've seen the worst and the best of Simon Riley and still you adore and support him, you are roommates now, but everybody would say you're more of a husband - wife relationship, you like that thought, you will not say that loud of course, Simon is at home for Valentine's, you welcomed him and put his laundry on the washer, he also brought a strange box with him, you don't like to ask, but you felt your curiosity taking control of your mouth.

- what's that box? Can I see?

- Sorry love, that's... Personal.

-oh... Well, it's okay, take a shower big boy, I'll go to the supermarket quickly! Do u need something?

- Will you bring me a bottle of...

- whiskey? got it, that's already on the shopping list, something else?

- you know me so well love, no, I think that's all, if you need help call me, alright?

- Yes Lt. I'll be right back!

You left the house wondering what that box was, Simon doesn't hide anything from you but this time it looks like he wants to keep a secret.

Ghost opened the box and started his mission, packed a lot of gifts, put some balloons around, oh this poor man doesn't know how to show affection, but his team gave him some ideas, he really wants you to know how he feels for you. He doesn't know how long it will take you your little trip to the supermarket but he tries to get ready as soon as possible.

You ran through the supermarket, you don't want to waste time when Simon is at home, you want to spend as much time as possible with him, you were putting your bags in your car when the sound of barking caught your attention, an old woman is selling puppies, you don't even know if that's still allowed but no one would judge you if you go to see the poor puppies, to your surprise there's just one «this is the last one» you heard the woman said, a little boy came to see it too, you were leaving until you heard the little boy talking to his mother. «Mom! Look! This puppy has a ghost face in his back!!! Can we take it with us?» «No honey, there's no space enough for puppies at home, let's go».

A ghost face in the back of the puppy? You looked at the dog carefully, indeed, there's a huge spot in the back that looks like a ghost, you remembered how much Simon wanted a dog a few months ago, the puppy looks perfect for him, also it's Valentine's day, friends can also surprise each other with presents, no?.

- How much for the dog?

- Do you want him? It's the last one... If you want it, take it for free.

- Oh! Really? Is there a problem with it or something?

- No, it's healthy, it has its vaccines and all, I just wanna go home, so do you want it or not?

You looked at the woman trying to find out if she was lying, after a moment you took the puppy in your arms, thanked the woman and went home.

- Simon! I'm home! I need help with the bags!

- Get it! I'll go in a minute.

He was nervous, he was watching himself in the mirror, everything looked nice, he smelled good and looked good, he had to admit he looked very handsome, he went to help and you were melting at the view, how this man can look so good all the time?.

- Si... Are you using perfume? You're not wearing sports clothes... Do you have a date or something?

- What? No, I just... took a shower, you told me to do it.

- oh yeah, sure, so... I have a surprise for you! Close your eyes, please!

- How will I help with the bags if I have to close my eyes?

- Forget about the bags! Please close your eyes!

He did and extended his arms, while you put the puppy in his arms, the puppy fell for Simon very quickly, he started to lick his finger.

- alright, open them!

- seriously?

You never saw him so excited for something, there he was, a perfect picture, Simon and... The still unnamed dog!

- Yes, do you like it? Consider it as a Valentine's gift! How would you like to name it?

- love, this is a wonderful present, thanks... And i don't know, we accept suggestions.

- I'm glad you liked it, it looks like he likes you too, and I was actually thinking about 'Riley' or 'ghost' since the spot In his back looks like your mask and your baklava...

He laughed, he was laughing, something that only you can do, he kept looking at the dog who was now trying to bite his fingers and then he looked at you, there's something different on his eyes, there's something else, a stranger spark.

- I think Riley is perfect. Y/N?

- Yes?

- I, I also have something for you, is... In the kitchen, Would you like to see it?

- Seriously? You didn't need to ask! Let's go!

You ran to the kitchen and the first thing you saw was a lot of balloons and small boxes and paper bags.

- What's all of this? All those are for me?

Simon put the dog on the floor to let it explore and walked to you.

- Yes, all are yours, I buy souvenirs or things that remind me of you every time I have a mission and write small notes to not forget why I bought it.

You started to open every box and bag and read every note «i saw this lipstick in the mall, I think it matches your skin tone» «these gloves reminded me of your small hands, it will keep them warm in my absence» «if you were a gem, I think you would be a sapphire» «I found it in the Market, maybe you will use it for your sketches» «I know how much you like to take photos, fill this album».

After a while you took a moment to see Ghost who's standing at the doorframe, there's no need to speak, you walked and kissed him softly, both have been feeling in the same way for so long.

- Happy Valentine's Simon.

- Happy Valentine's my love.

Price.

John and you were neighbors, you noticed he was a very busy man and you also noticed the food delivery service knocking at his door when he was around. That's how it started, you decided you wanted to give the poor man a proper meal when he's at home.

Eventually, you and him started to hangout and spend time together, it was clear for you the age difference between you and him, but who cares? The heart wants what it wants, but you know Price thinks differently, he told you about how insecure he feels when you're together and people of your Age approach to ask you for your number.

- You're a Sweetheart but people always think I'm your dad, have fun with people of your age, don't worry about me.

- John it'll be a Valentine's party! I won't go alone, I want to go with you but if you don't feel comfortable we can do something different, I don't mind.

In fact, you're so sweet, John doesn't know when or how exactly happened but he fell hard for you, you're younger than him but you talk as if you have the same experience as him, you are funny, you cook delicious, you're perfect for him, but he feels like he would be selfish for drag you to his way to live, he's not sure if you would be comfortable with something else than a friendship, he even talked about his dilemma with his boys.

- Cap, you're better than any man of her age, we're in a new era, Age is not a problem anymore.

- Gaz is right Captain, also if she prefers to spend time with you every time you're at home and cook for you doesn't make you think she probably feels the same way for you? Maybe love is in the air cap.

- I hate to say this, but maybe they're right Captain. Take the risk.

And that was all, that conversation made Price reconsider his options, and now here he is, cooking dinner for you, putting fresh flowers on the table and getting ready to confess what he has been feeling lately.

* knock, knock *

You look amazing, that blue outfit and the light make up definitely will make him fall at your feet, you also bring a very expensive but small present for him, today is the day, you will risk it all.

- Hey y/n, happy Valentine's, you are stunning today! Come in.

- Thanks John, you look very handsome too. oh! Before I forget, this is for you, I hope you like it

He opened the small box and oh my god, where did you get all the money you pay for that gorgeous watch? You're making very difficult for him to stop the urgency to kiss you.

- fuckin hell, is amazing, you didn't have to, I bet it costs a fortune...

- of course I needed, i couldn't stop to imagine it on your wrist! It's a classic!

He put the watch on his wrist, indeed you have a wonderful taste, it looks good on him.

- Doll, you didn't have to, I love it.

He couldn't contain himself, he hugged you, you tried to smell and retain in your lungs the perfume he was using, this man is so handsome, strong, elegant, he is perfect for you.

- come on sweetie, dinner is ready, do u want a drink?

- Sure, do you need help with something?

- Oh no, it's okay, all is under control, what do you want to drink? I have... Fuck, uh, I have water, sparkling water, juice, soda or whiskey, but if you want something else I can go to the store quickly.

You laughed, why is he so... Nervous?.

- John, it's fine, a Whiskey is perfect!

- alright love, a whiskey is on the way.

The meal was delicious, the conversation was funny and interesting, he taught you to dance a little, the drinks were also helping both of you to be brave.

- I have to sit, I'm getting older sweetie, you're a good dancer, I also have to give you your present, wait here...

He left the room and you sat on the table waiting impatiently, he was fast, he went back with a box with a pink big ribbon adorning it.

- Here it is, I... I spent a whole week looking for the perfect ones, I hope you like it.

You looked like a little kid on Christmas, you broke the paper, untied the ribbon and when you opened the box you found the most beautiful jewelry, the necklace was made of pearls and emeralds, the earrings were two small emeralds to match the necklace and a silver bracelet, you screamed with excitement, you stood up from your chair and gave small jumps.

- Jesus Christ! John... There's no way I can't accept all this, is amazing, is perfect, and I bet it's also fuckin' expensive!

- Doll, please accept it, you've been doing a lot for me since we met, it's the least I can do... And...

He took the bracelet and put it on your wrist, he held your hand carefully and put your hand under the light of a lamp.

- there's a secret message on the bracelet...

Indeed the bracelet had a message engraved. «To my one and only, I love you.»

You looked at him and he smiled at you nervously and before he could try to break eye contact you held his face with your free hand and kissed him.

- I love you too John Price, I love you too.

[lurkinggirlie]

Azriel's mother

A theory about Azriel's mother. aka I'm reaching (not sure if there are similar posts, but do let me know if there are ! I'd love to read them)

Disclaimer: this isn't a ship related post, but both Gwyn and Elain would be mentioned for different reasons. This isn't a Freud wet fantasy post so let's not go there. (Spoilers for the whole series and HOFAS bonus)

For someone we’ve never met, I have a lot of thoughts about Azriel’s mother as a character. We don’t know much about her but here are my best guesses from what we’ve glimpsed.

We first learn of Azriel’s mother straight after we meet him, we know his mom was probably assaulted by an Illyrian lord who was married to an evil female and had two older children.  (not sure if it was mentioned but she was probably really young and worked for Azriel's father)

What we know from ACOMAF:

Rhys’ mom knew Az’s mother which is why she took him in.

Azriel stayed in his father’s keep for 11 years, and was allowed to see his mother for an hour once a week. 

I’m not sure if there are any other mentions of her, but these are the instances I found.

*************************

Then later on in ACOFAS we get a little hint that she’s still alive: 

“When do you head out for Rosehall?”

“The morning after Solstice,” he supplied, turning toward the glittering sprawl of Velaris. He winced—slightly. “I still need to do some shopping before I go.”

I offered my brother a crooked smile. “Buy her something from me, will you? And put it on my account this time.”

I knew Az wouldn’t, but he nodded all the same.”

It's not mentioned who “her” is neither where Rosehall is, but we could guess it’s someone he needs to buy a gift for. “Put it on my account this time�� shows us that this isn’t the first time Rhys had asked Azriel to buy her something from him, but why is it that she isn’t invited over? Or why isn’t Rhys offering to visit her? I’ll talk about this later.

We get another mention of his mother in ACOFAS when he stops everyone from eating until Elain is seated.

*********************

ACOSF just confirms the suspicious about her being alive through Cassian’s POV

“His mother had needed a place like this. But Rhys had established it long after she’d left this world. He wondered if Azriel’s mother had ever considered coming here, or if he’d ever pushed her to” 

So, we know that Azriel's mother is still suffering from all the things she’s been through if she needs a safe haven like the library. 

Which brings me back to the point of “why isn’t she around the IC at all” 

Finally HOFAS’s bonus chapter (the Azriel/Bryce and Nesta chapter) 

Bryce jerked her chin toward Azriel. "You've got the broody look of someone with an awful mother, too. Care to share?"

Nesta snorted. "Az never talks about his mother, and neither will our friends, so I’m guessing she's even worse."

The Illyrian snarled softly, "My mother is anything but awful."

Nesta tensed, like she was surprised she'd gotten such a response from him. "I was joking. Az, I didn't even know-"

"I don't want to discuss this," Azriel cut her off coldly.

Azriel's mother is a sensitive topic confirmed. No one talks about his mom, he doesn't talk about his mom. Granted, Bryce is a stranger so of course he isn’t about to overshare but still makes me wonder. Especially since Nesta said that neither Azriel or their friends bring her up.

Now here are all my thoughts in regards to the things we have mentioned.

Reason 1 of why Azriel is keeping his mother away:

Perhaps Azriel is keeping his mother away from the IC, or more specifically his work environment because he doesn’t want her to see him this way, as in his job and the things he has to do, especially since in his bonus he mentions this:

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth.

He was in the library in this scene, talking to Clotho when he was giving the necklace to her.

I'm not saying that Azriel is like his father, but a big part of his job or overall persona is to look and be intimidating. And that could make his mother feel uneasy around him. Maybe Rosehall (wherever that is or whatever it is) is the safe space he has to see his mother; where he doesn't need to be the intimidating Spy/torturer/Shadowsinger.

And maybe the reason he gravitated towards the library, or found himself there not because of some magic singing abilities but because he subconsciously, or consciously thinks that his mother would fit there. Maybe she does end up going there in the next book.

We have seen how Gwyn have suffered, and how Azriel seemed so proud to see her regain her confidence/strength. but then we saw how the rite had triggered her again to go back to the library. So Perhaps Azriel's mother mental state is even more fragile which gets me to my second point:

Reason 2 of why Azriel is keeping his mother away:

Maybe his mother is not sane.

Hear me out, what if what had happened to his mother broke her in a way where being around people just triggers her. And Azriel just doesn't want anyone to see her this way because it breaks his heart.

Reason 3 of why Azriel is keeping his mother away:

I think there could be a possibility that his mother is a Seer but wasn't able to manage her powers properly maybe that on top of everything has driven her mad (or if we aren't going down that she isn't sane theory maybe he just doesn't want anyone using her. Maybe she blurts out her visions and we know that Seers are probably precious so of course someone would want to use that power and he simply doesn't want to put his mom through that). Remember in ACOWAR how he figured out that Elain was a seer? that he was the only one who listened and how he had looked at her and then disappeared. What if he had gone to where his mom is, to talk to her about this, to confirm. Maybe she helps Elain manage her visions

That is all, has anyone thought of Azriel's mother before? What are everyone's thoughts on this?

[certaincollectionlandblog]

Mick Schumacher with a Southern girlfriend - Wedding Edition

*Disclaimer: I use Y/N and reader, but when I write this in my mind I see her as a tall plus size gal (mainly because that's my personal body type), but also because I really see Mick doing amazing with a woman like that. If there is anything I write that doesn't apply to you feel free to leave it out and like always feedback is always appreciated and loved!

Photos from Pinterest

~ Mick knew for a while that he wanted to marry you. There was no doubt about it in his mind. You were the woman for him. You gave him such a sense of comfort and home that no other woman ever gave him before.

~ He grew up watching his parents have one of the most beautiful love stories ever written and he saw that for him with you. It was like God knew what he needed in someone and put in all in a you shaped package.

~ Mick's family had a ranch in Texas and while you loved going to Texas and spending time on their ranch he knew that he couldn't propose to you there. Your family had land in another state (I'm getting a Virginia/Tennessee/North Carolina vibe here) and he knew how special that space was to you.

~ Gina and his mom were the first to know of his plans to propose. He knew this wasn't an over the phone conversation so he sat them both down. His mom cried happy tears and gave him such a bear hug. Her little boy was growing up and she was so happy to see him experience such a wonderful love.

~ In fact Mick went as far as to visit your parents while you were busy out of town at college wrapping up finals to ask their blessing. He knew he didn't need it, but you both were huge family people who were raised that family was pretty much the back bone of life.

~ He even asked your parents for their okay to use y'alls land to propose out of respect for it being their home.

~ Your mom, Gina, and his mom all helped him pick out the perfect ring. Your dad has the mission of being the one to go help you move out after finals saying your mom couldn't get off work when in reality they were ring shopping with Mick.

~ He ended up picking a ring similar to your grandmother's knowing how special she was to you and your mom almost cried.

~ Mick recruited the aid of your siblings in keeping up with the weather reports knowing how much loved snow and helping Mick put up lights.

~ A Christmas proposal that could only be rivaled by Hallmark was under way.

~ Mick knew you were so smart and would be sure to be suspicious if he was in town when you got back from college for Christmas break right away. However, your parents had the perfect plan to help him out. Your parents told you that for Christmas they had invited Mick and his family out to spend Christmas with you guys knowing how much it mean to you to spend the holidays together.

~ As soon as they got to the house your mom pointed out how nice the weather was and asked if you wanted to take Mick up to watch the stars like you two loved to do. Mick had greeted you with flowers at the airport when you picked them up, but that was nothing new. He loved to spoil you with flowers. As soon as you got to the top of the land you saw the lights all laid out and when you turned around for Mick he had already dropped to take a knee.

~ Something about the snow really made the blue of Mick's eyes pop and you knew your eyes weren't leaving his anytime soon. You were speechless and he knew that didn't happen often so he grabbed charge of the silence.

~ "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N I've fallen in love with you. Growing up we're read fairytales, but told they don't exist when we reach adulthood. You see life through a childlike joy with a compassion and love for life like I've never seen before. You make me feel at home every time I'm with you, regardless of where we are. I love you and I look forward to every second I spend with you. Thank you for making me believe in fairytales again. So what do you say, will you marry me?"

~ You couldn't say anything other than nod your head yes and pull Mick up to hug him tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

~ You didn't miss the cheers of both yours and Mick's family which had hiked up behind y'all all recording and taking photos. You were so enthralled with Mick and the proposal you didn't even notice them there.

~ You and Mick decided it would be best for you guys to wait until after your college graduation to get married knowing how stressful college was Mick didn't want to overwhelm you planning a wedding during that to.

~ You guys ended up getting married on his family's ranch in Texas three weeks after your college graduation in late May. It really was a full circle moment.

~ Mick is a shy guy, but you both knowing how important family is to y'all ended up having a huge wedding. The guests were mainly family and then some close family friends.

~ You don't know how you got so lucky, but you know that having a love so strong with Mick and your family by your side that you two could get through anything.

~Instagram~

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yourinstagram Best Christmas gift ever!!

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Roughly six months later

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram Did something pretty fun yesterday. Would recommend marriage 10/10

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f1wags MOTHER HAS BLESSED US ONCE MORE

yourbestfriend I feel like I should have consented before seeing that second photos brb grabbing some holy water

yourinstagram You took the photo?! 🙄

[ananke-xiii]

usual disclaimer: this is just me thinking out loud, sort of, some of this stuff is probably incoherent or even incorrect, I'm just playing around with my obsessions lol, take it with a grain of salt.

Previously I've written that it's possible that Dean has inadvertently caused John to grow up without his father, Henry. Today I even dare to write that Castiel has accidentally ("accidentally" because he didn't know he was used as a pawn back then) caused "Mary's choice" by creating a causal loop where he sends Dean "back" in time causing the events to unfold as they did precisely because Dean was there.

In the episode "In the beginning" Cas sends Dean to the 70s saying he needs to stop "it" and that time is fluid and angels can bend it on occasion even if it's not simple. Then we have this dialogue:

Dean: Alright, if I do this, then the family curse breaks, right? Mom and Dad live happily ever after, and – and, Sam and I grow up playing little league and chasing tail? Castiel: You realize, if you do alter the future, your father, you, Sam – you'll never become hunters. And all those people you saved, they'll die. Dean: I realize. Castiel: And you don't care? Dean: Oh, I care. I care a lot, but these are my parents. I'm not gonna let them die again. I can't. No, not if I can stop it.

There are too many "ifs" in this dialogue. So can the future be altered or not? Is time fluid and can be bent or not? It seems the answer to these questions is yes but let's see what happens next.

Castiel has Dean under the impression that if he manages to stop "it", the family curse breaks and Dean very much wants it to be broken even at the expense of the people that he has saved. But the more Dean tries to stop "it", the more he makes it happen. He goes to that farm to kill the demon and Mary follows him there. She was not on Azazel's radar because we hear him say this:

"Where the hell have they been hiding you?"

And I wonder who this "they" is.

Then, after all the drama, Cas goes to Dean and tells him not to feel bad because he couldn't have stopped it and he just wanted Dean to see the truth. This is when he says this:

"Destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination."

And that now Dean knows everything that "we" (the angels, according to Castiel) know.

Therefore, the answer to those questions and to all those "ifs" is a big fat no, right? Right?! The future cannot be altered and time is not fluid, well, that is, humans cannot alter the future and for humans time is not fluid. The angels spend a considerable amount of power to make humans believe so and I wonder why if all they, the angels, want is The End of Time, therefore they don't care about the future because they know (or they think they do) that time will inevitably end. Maybe they are not so sure after all. It seems to me that for creatures who are able to bend time and move through dimensions, angels ridiculously depend on humans' notion of time. Which, in turn, make them very powerless.

The episode ends with this dialogue which is insane to me:

Castiel: We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why – what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up. Dean: Where's Sam? Castiel: 425 Waterman. You brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will.

There's something that doesn't add up AT ALL, or am I crazy? If destiny can't be changed and Dean couldn't stop it from happening and all roads lead to the same destination then why does Dean need to go to the destination of 425 Waterman to stop his brother from doing something that supposedly nobody (actually "we" who are, again, the angels according to Castiel before he knew the truth) really knows where it might lead while it was established that Dean can't stop jack shit and, on the contrary, the more he does, the more he's dooming himself and his family in the process? (okay that was a veeeery long question, you can breathe now).

Is it "destiny" that can't be changed or is it the past? 'Cause they either are the same thing or they're not. If destiny is the past then the question of free will changes significantly because time for the angels is fluid and they can bend it on occasion but it's not fluid for humans. If destiny=past and it can't be changed then all humans are left with is the capacity to accept it as it is, it's the only way to break "the curse".

If destiny and past are not the same thing, then why Dean couldn't change the past? If destiny is destiny and the past is the past, it shouldn't matter if the past is changed or not, should it? Because eventually destiny can't be changed and all roads lead to the same destination. And since this "destiny" can't be changed and Dean indeed didn't alter the future it therefore means that it was exactly what Dean did that helped cause the events in the past. What would have happened if Castiel hadn't made Dean think that he could have broken the family curse? If all Dean did in the 70s was walking around enjoying the view? Would the events still unfold as they did or not? Would it have been necessary for Michael himself to sweep in and "save the day" like he had to in "The Song Remains the Same"?

If this is the case, if Castiel acted as a sort of "agent of fate", then no wonder it's Castiel who must tear up the script by showing up in the story unannounced because he was the primary instrument that caused the story to happen in the first place. He cannot break the causal cycle because he is the cause. By showing up at Chuck's house and start making it up as he goes the loop is left to itself and will forever be happening while, in the "future", he helps events deviate from their supposed "destination". In this light, then, what Chuck says in s15 might be true, there might be other timelines where Cas does what he's told, i.e. keeping the timeline intact but it's not happening in "our" (the one we the audience see) timeline because it's a new branch that he himself has created to break from the impossibility of changing the "destiny", whatever it means, of that specific timeline.

I'm not sure if I'm making any sense but, like, time travels in SPN are insanely fun because they don't follow any consistency at all and are therefore interesting if you like to follow the thread and see what they might have gone if thoroughly explored.

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

WARM HEART,

WARMER LOVE

Chapter 1: Vanya

╭━━━━━♩♪♫♬♭━━━━━╮

Disclaimer: This fic has been written back in 2019, after the first season of Umbrella Academy.

I didn't switch from Vanya to Victor because I don't want to erase his personal growth, he's a great character and Elliot Page did an amazing job.

╰━━━━━♩♪♫♬♭━━━━━╯

You knock on the door softly, the music stop for just the moment it takes to Vanya's voice to reach your ear.

"Come in" she says in a sweet tone.

You peek your head inside the room, Vanya is near the window wearing a white blouse and black jeans, her hair loose on her shoulders.

You think she's beautiful like this, playing her violin with her eyes closed, swinging slowly with the notes she makes.

You sit on the couch listening and admiring her intensity and waiting for her to finish the song before speak.

"Beautiful, the song was awesome too" you smile at her.

"Y/N!" she chuckles blushing "Thank you, I composed it but I am not sure... Maybe I should change a couple of notes".

"To me it was perfect... Oh Vanya, I just got an idea, but you have to give me your consent"

She looks at you with a puzzled expression before nodding.

"What about if I paint you a portrait while you're playing?" you ask her, excitement in your voice.

Vanya drops her glance to the floor like there was a huge stain on the carpet she could not tear her eyes off.

"Maybe... Maybe I am not a great subject" Vanya shakes her head, she's always been so insecure about herself that makes you want to rush to Reginald's grave and stomp on his tombstone.

All his fault if this beautiful, rare and kind woman is a ball of anxiety and repressed dreams.

You nudge closer to her on the couch, placing your left hand on her cheek and stroking gently with your thumb.

"Maybe I am the one not capable of catch all the wonders that you are" you said, barely a whisper.

With a little hesitation, she agrees and you rush to your room, taking your brushes and colors and a large canvas before returning to Vanya.

She makes a perfect model to you, in front of the window like before, with her violin under her chin and the sunbathing her figure in vivid orange.

You sketch her quickly and paint the canvas with fervor, not wasting a single second. Grace even brought you tea and sandwiches, smiling sweetly at both of you and making a pleasing sound when she sees your work.

"Thanks, Mom" Vanya and you say when she leaves. You finish right before dinner, Vanya is terrible at faking her curiosity to see the painting and now is your turn to feel a little nervous and insecure.

All of that emotions totally vanish when you see the woman expression, she's in total awe. "I'm... It's beautiful, I do not know what to say... I think you've made me prettier?" a tint of pink on her cheeks.

"This is exactly how I see you Vanya" She hugs you tightly thanking you repeatedly and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

Even the rest of the family loves the painting, Grace insisted to hang it on her gallery on the second floor so she can see it every night. Vanya plays for you often and you love to sit on the couch sketching and drawing her.

You love her so much.

[magneticmage]

What are people's thoughts on a transgender Brosca or Aeducan?

Like we're told that Orzammar's caste system is based on one's same-sex caste, right? But, like, how complicated are someone's feelings towards their sex and how it differs from their preferred gender when the entire foundation of their culture is so sex segregated?

(Disclaimer; I'm cisgender so I'm not sure how to word all of this right without coming off as lacking understanding of nuances, accidentally coming off as rude and ignorant, or something, but I will do my best. Please be understanding that I am trying to NOT be rude, just might be a bit ignorant on phrasing things? Under a cut because it can be a bit ramble-y and maybe off-topic in some spots)

So transgender Brosca/Aeducan thoughts are hard to word, especially since I usually play my main ones as being cisgender, but even that is...a whole field of Thoughts.

Like I am aware that cisgender female Aeducan should actually be a different caste (probably some kind of noble or upper warrior caste, if I had to warrant a guess but your mileage may vary) than she is, but is considered functionally royalty in what probably amounts to no small part of her being her father's favorite child (because who cares about rules when your father is the king?). And that cisgender female Brosca is already defying some form of cultural expectation by being a casteless Carta thug rather than being a noble hunter like her sister Rica (nothing against Rica here, as I adore her, but Brosca not being one definitely seems to be a Choice, ya know?).

And if they are lesbian or any other orientation that isn't heterosexual, this also has added dimensions of its own as well. All of which is super interesting on how it comments on Orzammar society. Blah blah blah.

But like....what about transwoman Aeducan? Or transman Brosca?

Like how accepting is Orzammar society of such a thing? I'd assume not very much because of all the implications around potentially changing castes, which is socially frowned upon? Like it may not as big a deal for someone whose parents are roughly equal in terms of caste, but when there's a huge disparity between social ranks like, say, a noble lord and a servant caste mother? And, to digress slightly, it does make me wonder if some lower caste/casteless mothers have ever tried to pass off their assigned female children as sons, regardless of gender identity, all in hopes of a better life for their children. Like how Mary Reed's mom dressed her as a boy to keep getting money from her father's family. I mean, that's happened in our world to some extent as well. And how would someone whose intersex be viewed in this society? Do they just...like get to choose? Or is it a guess?

I don't have any answers.

Back to Brosca and Aeducan though.

How much does Trian's sexist comments about women being breeding flesh sting an Aeducan who views themself as a woman and choses to be one? Does their father most likely acknowledging them as his daughter publicly affect things? What about a Brosca that knows that their assigned sex at birth matching Kalah's is what cost them whatever caste their father was? How do they see those born the same sex as them that then go on to become noble-hunters wishing for a son, so their lives can get better? Does it make them angry or sad? Maybe a mixture of feelings?

Like I know that suffering and issues like these are not all that makes up a transperson's identity and I'm not saying it has to either. I know that some people face enough of these kinds of issues in the real world and would rather not have to deal with it in their video games and that's also okay. They can just decide their character is trans and not make it a big deal and that's a perfectly okay thing to do!

But I just...I have questions and am curious about how it might work in cases where they might want it to be a big deal? Is that a bad thing? That or maybe I worded things badly here or in a way that doesn't quite hit the mark because I'm not transgender?

If anyone else wants to weigh in here with their thoughts, like, please do? Or if there's better worded-meta out there, let me know because I'd love to read it.

Thanks for your time.

[mynameisnotthepoint]

Ossan no pantsu EP 4

Disclaimer: I had already watched this drama with subs that were mostly machine translated, so this is less of a first time reaction and more of an "i finally have the whole picture now". This will contain spoilers, so be warned!

As always: thank you to @isaksbestpillow for continuing to provide us with excellent subs to this drama!!

My jumbled thoughts/recap

Daichi and his boyfriend Madoka are wonderful together, even in the moments that they are outside and can't show the full extent of their relationship. They are fond. It shows in the way they smile at each other. Like @bengiyo said in his review of ep 4: it is so good to see Daichi not as this all-knowing gay fairy godfather who saves everyone, he has his own life, with his own troubles, too. And a tree of a boyfriend - Higishi Keisuke is HUGE. (Also, I love the whale poster Madoka has on his apartment walls, did he want to work with sea animals?).

When talking about why he should finish high school, Kakeru only talks about his mom. His dad has been quite stifling to him, and has not respected his boundaries.

"What if you thought about it like this [:] "I'm not bad for causing my mom trouble. Instead, I'm greatful to her for respecting my opinion even if it causes her trouble."" (Daichi to Kakeru, translation @isaksbestpillow) line is fantastic. In episode 3, we as viewers learned that Daichi has been the target of homophobic bullying and that his mom supports him wholeheartedly. He can really understand and relate to what Kakeru is going through, and it is no wonder that he is the only one who can really get him out of his shell, who is allowed inside his room.

And his mom is the one who keeps telling him, over and over, that he is safe in this room and this house. That he can always come back if he doesn't manage at school. She even stays home from work the day he goes to school so she can be there for him if he needs her. Mika is so gentle with Kakeru. She is also really good at reigning in her own enthusiasm/strong emotions as to not startle her son into running away.

Mika's kindness here almost made me cry. Mika and Moe both make sure Kakeru feels loved and will defend him to Makoto if necessary. Moe's "Because society won't wait, isn't that why the family pretends to wait," (Moe to Makoto, translation by @isaksbestpillow) also made me almost cry. They might not know what specifically Kakeru is going through, but they will respect and cherish him.

Makoto has all along known what it feels like to be bullied, and yet he perpetuated the same harshness of toxic masculinity he experienced onto his son (or he did it, because he hoped that in that way, his son didn't have to experience the same thing he did - boy, was he wrong). And his wife doesn't realise he wants to talk about serious stuff (maybe that is just not something he does while eating dinner) and is in her fandom world - while still doing chores for the family. She is doing physical labour for the family but at least she is free from emotional labour for a bit.

To get personal here for a second: My mom was raised quite free of gender expectations, as her dad wanted to pass on his knowledge of technical stuff and only had three daughters. My mom tried to pass it onto me, down to not liking the color pink, but quickly realised i was not interested in building things or taking radios apart (i am a language nerd...). I wanted to be a princess at 4 years old, a boy from 5 to 10 years old, and then as a teen I tried to be as girly as possible. My parents didn't mind me dressing in all boys' clothing (the girls' clothing was often too narrow for my stocky body anyways) and I was allowed to run around shirtless. I still remember my grey camo pants fondly. My neon girl teen phase with the strong eyeliner was less their thing - they disliked my overtly feminine expression more than me being tomboyish. Now I am back to being more androgynous, with bouts of feminity in between. And sadly, i never got into technical stuff :/

Makoto is trying to help and understand Kakeru. His enthusiasm about Kakeru going back to school has been reigned in by his wife, so he is - at least for a bit - less grand in his approach. His offer of him changing schools so he doesn't have to wear the boys' uniform is considerate. I do not speak Japanese, but I realised that Kakeru uses the masculine pronoun "boku", which is more polite than "ore", which one hears other male characters in the series occasionally use. Thank you to @isaksbestpillow for explaining this phenomenon to me! She also pointed out that the only time he uses "ore" is when he tries to convince the girls in his class that he doesn't know anything about make-up after being super enthusiastic about an eyeshadow pallet. (Language is so interesting!! Which made me realise once again I should probably always ask or at least research before going into too much analysis of things i hear/read with regards to this series)

"You've endured my pressuring for years. There can't be anyone at your school as ignorant and obstinate as me. [...] You've got enough immunity." It is sad that this motivation works. Makoto does know what to say sometimes. Still has foot in mouth syndrome, though.

"What if you thought about it like this? "I admire myself for trying, even if it doesn't work out." (Daichi to Kakeru, translation by @isaksbestpillow) Kakeru is truly brave for going to school after only going outside for a little while. It is so overwhelming, suddenly being surrounded by people, especially your peers that scare you. Kakeru running off to the sick bay is truly so relatable. And yet, this sentence from Daichi gives him strength enough to go back to the classroom, even make a connection with the girls that were occupying his assigned school desk.

I love Shizuka, one of Kakeru's new school friends: She makes sure everyone knows his name, and also isn't mad at all that he won't join for karaoke. You really need someone like her in your corner when trying to gain back your footing in a social group. Also, the girls decide call him Kakeru-tan (which I searched up is a cute form of -chan, so they acknowledge Kakeru's cuteness in their chosen honorific for him!!). Yet his meeting with self-appointed make-up guru Karina firmly puts him back with his two feet on the ground: making friends with people isn't easy...

And lastly:

I want to tell this to my bosses every week... This series truly captures the difference between generations (also, Makoto truly is a people-pleasing pushover. By letting others pile work onto him, he also has to pile it on his subordinates...)

[tetsunabouquet]

When Eyes Meet - Kuroko Tetsuya

A/N: I picked Kuroko next, considering I don't write for him often! Disclaimer: the soulmate concept belongs to Elfquest!

Aomine Murasakibara Kise Kagami Akashi Midorima

You knew the words as well as anyone did. The history books have been telling you them since childhood, how humans have two names. How the second name is the name of your soul. That there will be an earth-shaking event called Recognition, where you'd lock eyes with someone and they'd instantly know the name, the moment you knew who your soulmate was supposed to be. Perhaps those words were easier to swallow, on days when you crush hadn't Recognized one of your closest friends. Now, you just felt miserable, like the universe was rubbing them in your face. Which is why you were currently hanging out with another close friend of yours, because Kuroko was that friend you went to when you wanted to be comforted and have someone who listened to you. Kuroko was gifted in that department and you honestly felt blessed to have him in your life. He had even been so sweet to treat you on a milkshake. You drank your f/flavor as he consumned his vanilla one at a bench nearby the Maji Burger. "You know, the two of you were incompatible anyways. He''s too impatient and impulsive for a girl like you. A relationship with him would eventually have gotten on your nerves." Kuroko's words were wise and calm, the way he patted you on the head was so gentle too. You honestly felt like you were coming down from the worst of it all. "Yeah, it wouldn't have worked out, right?" You said, trying to cheer yourself up. Kuroko smiled reassuringly at you, and you sighed, letting it all wash away from your mind. He rubbed your shoulder and you thanked him for being such a wonderful friend. "It's nothing. I just want to be there for you." You smiled at him, truly you didn't knew what you would do in a world without Kuroko. "You're the best." Kuroko looked away, slightly flushed. "Eh, what's this?" You teased lightly, poking him in the cheek. "Nothing, really." You looked at him, trying to look into his eyes and read his emotions, something you always failed to do because Kuroko was so good at having a pokerface. You wondered wether you should be considered selfish for being too emotionally drained to push further, but you let it go. You threw away your now empty cup. "Still, you're the best." Kuroko smiled softly and threw his own cup away too. "Let me walk you home." "Oooh, I am getting the full gentleman treatment. Do you honestly feel that sorry for me?" Kuroko looked over at you. "I just want to make sure that you're okay." "I am. I mean, I'm feeling a little vulnerable but further I am fine." "It's that 'a little vulnerable' that I am worried about." "Awe, that's so sweet." You smiled, genuinely touched. Has your brain thanked Kuroko silently for being there for you the millionth time just now? Yes it did. Honestly, Kuroko was way better at calming you down then Iseyama had ever been. Now that you actually thought about it, you didn't really knew why you liked him, other then him being a cute guy that could make you laugh. There were way more things you liked about Kuroko. That thought made you halt. "Hey Kuroko-san," You said, hesitantly as you wanted to ask him something, and just when the two of you made eye contact, it happened. "Teyrn?" The name escaped your lips with ease, as if you had been made to say it. Kuroko smiled broadly, "I knew it was you, Ram. I always knew." Your heart fluttered and you didn't knew what to say, so Kuroko looped his arm with yours like the polite sneaky bastard he was and started gently walking, making you move along. "I guess we should tell your mom that we Recognized." "She would be overjoyed." You squeezed his arm and your night honestly couldn't have ended better.

[v1rtualv4mp]

hello! I was wondering if you had any headcannons for the bloodpack from blade ii? Specifcially snowman but honestly a lot of them didn't get their chance to shine imo before being killed which is too bad :(

⋆♱ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♱⋆

Genre: Romance/fluff

Disclaimer: Ever so slightly suggestive but it's just a little bit

A/N: AAA u have no idea how excited I was when I got your request!! It caught me so off-guard, I didn't think anyone would be interested in other characters other than Blade and Scud. And I totally agree with you bro, how can they introduce a bunch of cool characters and just kill them all off. I wish we got to see more of each ones personalities, especially Snowman! He was my favorite :( It wasn't sure if you wanted romantic headcanons or just general stuff, so I did a little bit of both! And also, I am so so sorry for the long wait, I'm new at this 😓 Goddamnit I feel so bad.

☆ PRIEST

– Had the prettiest, most healthy, defined and smooth curly hair as a child but then he fucked it all up with chemicals

– Owned a boat in his teenage years

– Talks in his sleep

– Definently a little addicted to crack

– Is the type of guy who claims to be a player but actually doesn't even know where the clit is

☆ CHUPA

– Used to be a mama's boy, I feel it in my guts I can't explain it

– And he was definitely a little spoiled, too

– Hear me out, he has such a mean face but I BET he's in reality such a loser, like, he has absolutely no game

– He gets really shy when flirted with, then he just pretends to be annoyed by scoffing and walking away (screaming on the inside)

– Is secretly into men but he's in STRONG denial

– Is super sensitive please don't friendly tease him, that guy will take it seriously and lose his shit

– Loves animals, especially big dog breeds and ducks

– Purple is his favorite color

☆ LIGHTHAMMER

– As much as he acts all tough on the outside he's a sweetheart once you break his shell

– Wants to express his love for his partners too but has a hard time doing it so, ends up feeling guilty

– Used to have an underbite

– Is the oldest one of the group, being 279

– Has one of the most nasty, juicy and aggressive coughs you'll ever hear

– Hates the singing of birds, it pisses him off for no reason

☆ VERLAINE

– As the movie shows, she's really really affectionate with her loved ones

– I'm guessing she already had a lot of romantic partners during her life but they were all short-lived, Lighthammer was the only one who lasted for a long time

– I'm assuming they didn't know each other before the whole Damaskinos's training thing, so yeah, they fell in love during it ♡

– Cannot leave her hair alone for shit, is always dyeing it and getting new haircuts

– Is part of the goth subculture (mall goth)

☆ SNOWMAN

– I think Snowman would probably be kinda aromantic

– Like, I think he chooses to focus more on important things such as training. In my opinion, he looks way more experienced than the rest of the Bloodpack so I'm guessing that he has trained for a really long time.

– Virgin

– Loves incense

– Eating sand was his main hobby as a kid

– Is a great cook

☆ REINHARDT

– Has difficulty forming actual bonds with people. As shown in the movie, he didn't even care that half of the people he knew for two whole years were all dead

– Maybe he's had only few friends during his lifetime, maybe 15 or 20 (not a lot since I'm assuming all members are 100+ years old)

– His mom forced him to go to church as a kid

– Second most old member (216)

– His favorite color is pink but no one can find this out

[wrestlersownmyheart]

Closer Than You Think Chapter 2 (Dean Ambrose X OC)

Title: Closer Than You Think Pairing: Dean Ambrose X OC: Shannon Brock Summary: When a serial killer claims a number of victims including NXT wrestler, Shannon Brock's cousin, she vows to find the killer after she is bumped to RAW from NXT. Her cousin's lover, AJ Styles, appoints himself and the Shield—Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns—as her bodyguards.

Dean takes the task very seriously and doesn't let Shannon out of his sight, despite the game of cat and mouse they play with the killer. Can he keep her safe, or will the killer claim his ultimate victim?

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Extreme Violence against women; murder

Chapter Two

Shannon Brock switched her cell phone to her other ear and grabbed a fruit salad out of the hotel room's mini refrigerator while she spoke with her cousin, Larissa Anderson.

The two women were actually more like sisters than cousins. Not only did they share the same physical attributes: long black hair, pale skin and identical gray eyes, they also had grown up living next door to each other, went to school together, spent weekends at each other's houses and watched their beloved wrestling together. They were virtually inseparable. They even planned for their careers to be in the same industry. Larissa wanted to write for World Wrestling Entertainment, while Shannon wanted to wrestle for them.

Then came Shannon's unforgettable eighteenth birthday—the day she'd been waiting for her whole life.

Shannon had applied for entrance to Funking Conservatory Wrestling School a couple weeks prior, and almost as if fate was giving her a birthday present, she received a letter of acceptance that very day. She'd ripped into the envelope with a vengeance and then cried tears of joy when she saw the printed words informing her of her acceptance.

"Mom! Daddy! They accepted me," she'd squealed happily, jumping up and down. "I'm moving to Ocala!"

She was lucky in finding an apartment near her school within the week and was soon on her way to living her dream. Excitement filled her heart, but so did sadness. She had never been away from her family for more than a week. How will I handle being away from them permanently, she wondered. I know I'll be able to visit them, but still… I'm living on my own now. I'm starting my life.

The day came when she left for Ocala. She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye, and then latched onto Larissa. "I'm going to miss you all so much," she cried. "I didn't realize how hard this would be."

"You'll be fine, Shannon," Larissa whispered, hugging her cousin tightly. "In fact, you're going to be amazing! I can't wait to see you on TV," she encouraged.

"You're going to make me cry," Shannon smiled through her tears. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now go get to school and show the veterans how it's done," Larissa teased. "I'll see you at WWE Headquarters in a few years."

Larissa sounded light-hearted for Shannon's benefit, but for a long time, she felt alone. However, she knew Shannon was doing what she loved. And so was Larissa. She had entered college a year before to major in English and minor in Journalism. Three years of very hard work later, she graduated and within a month had secured her dream job. Writing on the creative team for World Wrestling Entertainment.

Four years later, she worked up to both writing and producing—which was how she met her boyfriend, Jim Walker.

"Work is going great." Shannon answered her cousin, as she mentally returned from her reverie of the past. "As you know, I'm sure, I've been NXT Women's Champion for about six months now. Hopefully, I'll get to keep it a while longer. I get afraid every time I get my script that I could learn I'm about to lose the title to someone." She took a bite of pineapple then, "So how is everything with you? How are you and Jim doing?"

"Work is also going great for me. Very busy," Larissa chuckled. "All these storylines and the deadlines that go with them are about to wipe me out, but I'd not have it any other way."

"Well, I'm so glad you are enjoying it. We were both so blessed to get the exact jobs we were wanting," Shannon smiled, genuinely happy for her cousin. "So, how about Jim? Are you still having problems?"

"Not anymore," Larissa answered. "But that is probably because we broke up about two weeks ago. He just became too controlling and jealous for me to deal with."

Shannon felt terrible for her cousin. She knew how crazy about Jim she had once been. "I'm so sorry, Larissa," she said. "I wish there was something I could do."

"Don't worry, Shannon," Larissa told her. "I'm doing much better without him. The ordeal just taught me that being single isn't nearly as bad as being with a jerk."

"That's true," Shannon agreed whole-heartedly. "Well, I really hate to make this a short phone conversation, but I have got to get to bed early so I can work out in the morning and get ready for tomorrow night's show."

"No worries. I understand completely," Larissa told her. "I just wish our schedules would calm down a little so we could get together. Or even if all the brands had a week of being in the same state."

"I know, I miss you so much," Shannon said softly. "I hate that we never get to see each other."

"Maybe soon we can," Larissa said, hope in her voice. "I'll let you get to bed now. Goodnight, Shannon. Love you."

"Goodnight. I love you too."

With that, the two women disconnected the call and got back to the tasks of their everyday lives.

0o0o0

That Night In Philadelphia…

"Dana," Jarold, the night manager of Denny's called out. "Table nine needs more coffee!"

The restaurant was swamped and buzzing with excitement. The building was full of wrestlers and wrestling fans from the live event that had occurred only three blocks away.

"Okay, I'm on it," Dana called back over the dull roar of adoring WWE fans. She grabbed the non-decaffeinated coffee pot and headed to the table that a man was seated at.

"I assume you want regular and not decaf," she flashed him her charming smile, trying to get as good a tip as possible, and brushed her dark ponytail back over her shoulder flirtatiously.

"Yeah, that'll be great," he smiled back at her. "I guess you're staying pretty busy tonight, huh," he conversed as she filled his cup up.

Dana enjoyed the sexy rasp in the handsome man's voice and immediately became nervous. I must look awful after being around this greasy atmosphere all night, she fretted. "Well, I wasn't super busy till about a half hour ago," she chuckled. "But hey, I'm in a large room full of gorgeous wrestlers. So it's worth it," she joked.

"Well, I'm sure you have every male eye in the room locked on you, flashing that smile of yours," the man said, just the slightest hint of disdain entering his demeanor.

Did I imagine that, Dana wondered. Or maybe I'm just really tired and reading too much into his behavior. He seemed friendly enough, but there was some thing dark, sinister in his eyes. Like Dracula, hot and sexy, yet evil and cold-blooded.

He's handsome, I'll give him that, Dana thought. But then again, so was Ted Bundy.

"Well, enjoy your coffee, sir," she said, suddenly growing uncomfortable. "And if you need anything else, just let me know." She smiled kindly this time, with no flirting whatsoever, and headed back to the waitress station.

The young woman stayed busy for the next two hours re-filling coffee, soft drinks, serving desert, collecting dishes and wiping tables. Her only comfort was that she'd made about two hundred dollars in tips, which she'd poked very securely into her waitress apron.

Finally, at about midnight the diner was close to empty so Dana began performing her end-of-shift duties, to prepare for the next waitress' shift. She wiped down all tables and booths, cleaned the coffee machines and soft drink machines, took all dirty dishes to the back to be washed, then prepared to take out the garbage.

Minutes later, she was hauling two large trash bags along with her as she hurried out the backdoor and to the huge dumpsters in the dark alley.

"Why can't these dumpsters be closer to the building," she grumbled under her breath, as she hefted the bags up into one of the large receptacles.

And then suddenly, the hair on her neck stood on end. A cold chill ran down her spine and she visibly shuddered.

"You should have had someone else take the trash out…"

Dana had no time to react, a knife was at her throat instantly.

A hand clamped over her mouth, "Don't scream…" The raspy voice told her, "Or this will hurt more than it has too."

Oh my God, Dana panicked. Please somebody come out here…She prayed silently, Somebody come check on me…

But there was no one nearby. Nobody to hear her whimpering cries. Nobody to see as the serrated edge of the blade viciously tore into her pale throat.

And nobody noticed for a long while that she never re-entered the building…

0o0o0

Shannon reached over to the nightstand and picked up the receiver of the in-room phone which was ringing incessantly. "Hello," she uttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Miss Brock in room 509," came a pleasant female voice.

"Yes, this is she," Shannon said, fighting off a yawn.

"I'm just delivering your 7 A.M. wake up call ma'am. Would you like me to make a follow-up call in five minutes?"

"No, thank you," she replied. "I'm awake enough, so that's not necessary."

"Okay, Miss Brock. Help yourself to a complimentary breakfast in our cafe. Have a nice day."

"Thank you. You have a nice day too." She hung up the phone and stretched with a soft groan. "Ugh…seven o'clock already…."

She stood to her feet then and turned on the television to get the morning news while she prepared for her day. Listening to the weather forecast, she discarded the black satin nightgown she'd slept in and grabbed some workout clothes out of her suitcase. After pulling on a pair of pink yoga pants, a black sports bra, and layered an off-the shoulder black t-shirt over a pink tank top she stepped into a pair of running shoes. Within minutes her teeth were brushed and she began pulling her hair up into a messy bun when the words "brutal murder" shot her attention to the television. Her gaze froze on the TV screen as she listened in.

"…In Philadelphia late last night a brutal murder has the city in turmoil. Live in Philadelphia, Jack Cooper has the story."

"Philadelphia…" Shannon whispered, worriedly. That's where Larissa was last night.

The feed cut to an area at the back of a restaurant taped off with police tape, with Jack Cooper facing the camera.

"The body of thirty year old, Dana Marshall was found outside in this very alley of Denny's restaurant at approximately 12:20 this morning. When the murder was first called in by the late shift's manager, Jarold Carver, the police's first impression was robbery due to the fact that the manager had reported that they'd had a very busy night and that the young woman had made a large amount of money in tips. However, when they arrived at the scene it was a different story. Dana was found lying on her back with her throat and entire body slashed.

A photograph then popped on the television screen of a woman who was apparently Dana Marshall.

"My God…" Shannon whispered.

The woman looked so much like Larissa and herself it was uncanny. The only major difference is that Shannon and Larissa were a few years younger and had longer hair.

Suddenly unnerved, Shannon turned the television off and tried to get herself mentally ready for the day's events. But the images of what she had seen and heard were engraved her mind.

"Denny's…" she thought out loud as she rubbed some tension out of her neck. Grabbing her phone off the night table, she pulled up Google and typed out "Denny's restaurants in Philadelphia", then picked the first link offered. She scanned the page for the street address of the establishment and was distressed to find the address was merely three blocks away from the Thompson Stadium-where SmackDown had been taped.

"Why is this creeping me out so bad," she asked herself. Then shook her head to clear it. "Ugh...I'm just being paranoid. Get a grip, Shannon."

Making sure she had her room's key card in her wallet, she grabbed her gym bag and stuffed a change of clothes into it and then she hurried out the door intent on grabbing some coffee on her way to the gym. And then she was going to work the strange new tension out of her body, even if it killed her.

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[amyisherenowitsokay]

I was wondering if you've seen MatPats Film Theory on Invader Zim? And if you have, what your thoughts were on the conclusion?

Okay so since I'm sick I finally got around to watching this video to fulfill this ask.

TLDR for the people who don't want to watch the video below the cut.

TLDR: the theory is that Professor Membrane is an Irken, based off of his lack of ears, goggles that hide is eyes, complete lack of mention of who Dib and Gaz's mother is, his random advanced technology, etc. It would also be an interesting self-folly for Dib, who's made it his life mission to seek out the paranormal, never realizing he is in himself a paranormal entity. There's also some hints that while Dib is oblivious, Gaz might know ("I have a squeedily-spooch" quote), and her acceptance/knowledge is why she's Membrane's favorite kid.

Onto my answer:

I can definitely appreciate the thought that went into this video. I'm a big fan of fan interpretations and secret messages. The Invader Zim lore is so open-ended in a lot of areas, leaving hints about character personalities and motivations all over, it's real fun. That being said, I have to firmly disagree with MatPat's conclusion (with the disclaimer of: to each your own fanfictions).

I think the reason we just can't see Membrane's ears are because they're just under his goggles.

I think this is a pretty good angle to emphasize that the goggles don't go OVER his ears, but under. I actually have a facemask that does that, as it's more comfortable than something going over your ears for hours. The heavier duty safety goggles also have thick ass bands. I think Jhonen and the art team just took insp from that and upgraded it to look futuristic, to where they cover his ears.

Another reason I disagree:

Membrane had a childhood. (The comics also show him with his parents, but I'll stick to strictly show material, since a lot of the comics are not canon). Yes, it could be argued that this was just a younger Professor Membrane, when he was still short. However, I think the childhood wonder of still believing in Santa Clause, even as a super-genius, is more pro-human than pro-secret-Irken. Zim studied Christmas, whereas Professor Membrane experienced Christmas, if that makes sense.

To explain his kids, I do think Dib and Gaz were clones. I subscribe fully to the theory that the Membrane also told them already, way younger than was probably appropriate lol. I think if they didn't know for sure where they came from, they'd both have way more questions on the regular about their theoretical mom.

As funny and interesting as it'd be to have Dib be chasing proof of, well, the existence of himself, I think the reason Membrane tries to keep him away from the paranormal is as stated: Membrane believes, and has always believed, that science is the only career worth chasing. He doesn't believe in the paranormal, because the spookies are just things that science doesn't yet understand. I think if we're lending to the clone theory, it'd also trouble him that his clone-son doesn't like science, and therefore is not the perfect clone. Dib's disinterest is a sign of something going wrong in his experiment, which is simply unacceptable. Furthermore, I think we don't give Membrane enough credit for just being a sentimental guy sometimes. Like any other dad, he just wants his son to think what he does is cool, and join in on his favorite thing.

I think Gaz's comment about a squeedily-spooch was just her being a glib little sister. Also, Dib literally had his organs stolen in that episode. Zim stole his organs to replace organs that he don't exist in Irken physiology. Sure, Dib could be part-human-part-Irken DNA, but if that was the case, Zim still would've noticed by now. He literally steals Dib's DNA signature on multiple occasions. Zim turns him into bologna one episode, and the both of them take extensive cultures of their DNA to try and cure themselves from being turned to meat. If not one, the other certainly would've noticed some Irken in there and pointed it out.

I can't find the episode immediately, but there's also episodes where Zim gets electrocuted and we get the humorous x-ray shots. There's also an episode where Membrane gets an x-ray shot. In both, their bone structure is different.

As neat as the idea is, especially in terms of a 'wow Dib's his own worst enemy' idea, I can't say the video swayed me, or that I could be convinced towards adding it into my own personal fanon. Very neat video though. Thanks for the rec homie

[fbfh]

rocks at your window pt. 9 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system but he gets worse before he gets better yk. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 9.6k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, not really fluff but a lot of high highs and a lot of low lows

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: miss jenn is a legend icon queen slay goddess (cited two times), iconic interactions between the cast, jealous ricky being a cutie, ricky and EJ are not bros yet, nini has gone from messy to borderline evil, your mom is a legend, kourtney anxiety foreshadowing, opening night/theatre vibes so strong it made me tear up a little /hj, lynne bowen is a horrible horrible toxic person!!!, todd jumpscare, ricky has a mental breakdown, EJ is trying his best but horribly misreads the situation, ricky is in a crisis, ricky bpd episode, art to cope :'), ricky has a good support system, reader is good in a crisis, nini is REALLY testing your patience, gina gets a well deserved moment to shine, terrible theatre etiquette, ricky gets emotionally ambushed, mike is a good dad, nini gets yelled at by reader (slay), reader yells at lynne (slay), reader gets slapped (in a dramatic way not a violent or sexy way), reader gets called a slut as an insult, ricky defends you, messy necessary screaming match (slay), things are said that cannot be unsaid :/

summary: opening night is just as magical and incredible as ricky hoped it would be, just as wonderful as you made it sound - until the worst case scenario comes to fruition. but the show must go on, right?

song recs: something about this night - finding neverland obc, twenty million people - my favorite year obc, opening up - waitress obc, twinkle in her eye - leann rimes, window seat - amelie obc, this is how I disappear (instrumental) - my chemical romance, un organo suona - ennio morricone, the music and the mirror - a chorus line obc, holding onto you - twenty one pilots, you oughta know - jagged little pill obc

other media: "art is not a luxury, it's sustinance" - ethan hawke ted talk clip, "and the way he sings sends a chill right through me" - lullaby for the taken lyric by kimya dawson, "what a mother does for you out of obligation vs what a mother does for you because she wants to" - text post/poem by tumblr user vympr,

a/n: fangz to cici for reading!!! I felt like my immortal chapter 6 "paragraph" 4 while writing the last part trying not to under or overuse dialog tags lmao. remember when I said it's gonna get messy? it gets worse :)

tags @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @pikzel @demirunner @brinaslittlefreak @girlfriendwhoseawitch @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames @rainforest-daisies @sunshineangel-reads

You and Ricky had been planning to get to the El Rey early on opening night since tech week, to make sure you have plenty of extra time to get ready, warm up, and get in character. Plus, you’ve been telling him how much you’ve missed just being in theaters, and near stages. The more time you’re there, the better. When you’re on the way over Ricky couldn’t shake the excitement gripping him. You can’t seem shake the feeling something was going to go wrong.

It was different from nerves, different from anxiety or worries that everyone can get before a big event. It was the same small, nudging feeling you got the night the basement flooded during your run in Matilda. It’s not as bad as it had been that time, but you take in a breath, steadying yourself and knowing you should be ready for anything. When you do, the feeling is quickly overshadowed by your excitement. You haven’t acted in far too long, and you’re ecstatic that you’ll get to perform again soon. 

Once you get to the theater, you and Ricky are the first to sign the sign in sheet. You draw a little smiley face next to his name, and when he glances back at you, eyes falling on the paper. He smiles, struck by sudden joy at the little face. He leans back over and grabs a pen, drawing a smiley next to your name on the line below. Miss Jenn glances down when he returns the pen. 

“Oh!” she exclaims, seeing the little faces, “How cute. I love this energy we’re creating.” she gestures vaguely before shooing you off to your respective dressing rooms to get ready. 

Soon everyone’s there, and you’re once again wrapped up in the familiar hustle and bustle of show nights. You and your castmates are simultaneously getting in costume, warming up, and trying to get ready while helping each other’s hair and makeup. Ashlyn and Nini join you in an impromptu karaoke session, singing your hearts out to Bop to the Top while Nina riffs and harmonizes. The boys, one or two rooms away, start singing Getcha Head in the Game at the same time. In spite of the chaotic cacophony of voices, it's both a good way to warm up, and a good outlet for the nervous energy growing, bouncing from one person to the next, turning electric. 

Kourney enters suddenly, grabbing some bobby pins.

"Do you know if you have any safety pins?" She asks.

"Uh," you pause doing your hair, tying it up into a bouncy low half updo, and fumble through your bag, "how many do you need?" 

"Two or three?" She says hopefully. No matter how many you buy, bobby pins and safety pins always seem to be in short supply at every theater you've been to. You dig around for a minute before finding them, handing them to Kourtney.

"Thank you!" She declares, "Seb's shirt just completely-"

"Has anyone seen my glasses?" Ashlyn asks, and Kourtney pauses, noticing she's not wearing them. 

"Shit," Kourtney mutters, both of you looking around for them.

"Knock knock!" Comes Seb’s voice from behind the door.

"Decent!" You and Ashlyn reply in unison. Seb enters, holding the side of his shirt together with his hands. 

"Any luck?" He asks Kourtney. 

"Right here," she replies, holding up the safety pins. "Turn around." Nina puts in her headphones and starts doing some vocal exercises and scales to warm up a little more. Seb lifts up his jacket so Kourtney can pin the ripped seam back together.

"Oh," she remembers, "have you seen Ashlyn’s glasses?"

"The really big ones?" He asks.

"Yeah."

"Nope." He shrugs. She turns to Ashlyn. 

"We'll find them." Kourtney reassures her. Seb heads back to his dressing room he shares with Ricky and EJ, and you move on to the last few steps of your makeup routine. 

"Where are they?" Ashlyn huffs rhetorically. Natalie pokes her head in a moment later. 

"40 minutes till show time!"

"Thank you 40!" The three of you reply together. A little while later, you’re finally dressed and waiting for the glue on your eyelashes to get tacky, when you hear EJ call your name. You stumble out of your dressing room, zipping up your boot, and you’re greeted with EJ in his Chad costume, clearly in a huff. 

“Can you help me with my eyeliner?” he asks, a slightly petulant tone to his voice, handing you a black pencil. You laugh. 

“Yeah, hold on.” you go back into your dressing room, passing by Seb telling Kourtney something. You dig through your makeup bag as Seb reenters, Darbus glasses in hand, presenting them to Ashlyn. 

"Where were they?" She exclaims. 

"The prop table!" He says. 

"Why?" Ash asks, stating your thoughts exactly. 

"Natalie says they're technically a prop because in the detention scene when you…" you find what you're looking for, missing the tail end of his sentence as you leave a moment later with a stiff angled brush in hand. You grab EJ and lead him to the stairs where he can sit down. He does so, and you rub the bristles against the eyeliner, demonstrating for him. 

“This will make the application a lot more precise. Close your eyes…” you instruct, tilting his head back. You smudge the outside of his lash lines, careful not to make it look like too much. 

“Okay, now this is the scary part…” you trail off, gently lifting up his eyelid. “I swear I’m not going to stab you, just look down and don’t blink.” you instruct at the worried look on his face. You tight line the middle of his lash line for a defined, natural effect, then repeat the step on the other side. 

“Okay,” you say, pulling away to check that it looks even, unaware of Ricky standing a few feet away, watching you hold EJ’s face. You look so focused, and a twinge of jealousy flashes through his stomach, wishing you were holding his face, looking focused at him like that. 

“You should be good,” you say, and Ricky approaches, dragging you away as EJ thanks you.

“I just need to borrow her for a second.” he cuts EJ off, smiling tensely at him - one he returns. Ricky takes you a few feet away while EJ goes back into their dressing room. 

“What’s up?” you ask. He lets out a breathy laugh.

“I just… I can’t figure out this whole bronzer thing.” You bite back a smile. You know that  it’s bullshit, specifically because you went through his whole stage makeup routine with him twice last night. He could do his makeup and anyone else’s with one hand tied behind his back, so he obviously just wants your attention. You can’t deny that it’s really cute - and it’s working. He’s probably nervous, you figure. You chuckle, taking the brush from him. 

“Make a fish face,” you instruct, sucking in your cheeks and puckering your lips. His face mirrors yours, and you blend the product into his foundation. Your hand rests on his jaw, angling it this way and that until you’re satisfied with your work. He glances briefly back at the stairs, where EJ has long since left. Ricky’s about to look for any other excuse to keep you here for a few more minutes, your eyes light up, remembering something.

“Oh!” you exclaim, turning around, “Stay right here.” You’re back a moment later after digging through your bag past bobby pins, safety pins, your water bottle, script, sewing kit, extra makeup, makeup wipes, bandaids, and throat lozenges. You grab a small box, holding it triumphantly before running back out to Ricky in the hall. You stand in front of him, that glimmer in your eye. 

“I have a surprise.” Excitement swirls in his chest.

“What is it?” he asks, trying to suppress the anticipatory giggle bubbling up, his energy matching yours. You hand him the small box, and he looks at it, confused. He opens it slowly, pulling out a little charm. It’s a dog tag with the number 14, and a metallic T on a jump ring.

“Oh my god…” he breathes, looking at it closer. You’re beaming, so glad that he likes it. 

“You know,” you say softly, “something to remember your first show by. And your heart ring was looking kind of lonely.” You smile, pointing to the plastic ring he still wears around his neck, waiting until the last possible minute to take it off. You barely get the words out before he grabs your arms, pulling you close and kissing you. His lips are warm as they move against yours, and for a split second, you forget where you are, completely losing context for everything around you. 

“I love-” he murmurs against your mouth, freezing for an instant. Your hearts skip a beat in tandem, then he cuts himself off to kiss you again. “I love it.” he finishes. You smile against his lips, pulling away very reluctantly. He leans back in, pressing a few more kisses to your lips before you wiggle out of his grasp. 

“Ricky!” you laugh, “We’re gonna mess up our makeup. We can kiss after the show.” He runs his fingers up and down your arms, gazing at you as you talk. You have all his attention. 

“Okay,” he says in that light hearted, joking tone of his that always makes you laugh, “but I’m gonna hold you to that.” You laugh again, and he takes off his necklace so you can slip on the new charm. After getting it fixed on the chain, you reattach it to his neck. 

At the end of the hall where you’re standing, Nina lingers, watching Ricky touch you and kiss you like that. It makes her sick, and she finds herself holding back a gag. Her hours of research had turned into days, and she has your playbill.com page open on her phone at this very moment. She’s torn, reminiscing over how much she loved your performances and how obsessed with you she was as a kid, and simultaneously fuming over it. You’ve done all this professional work, you’ve acted on Broadway, and now you’re here at East High? 

She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. She wanted so badly to be you, to have your perfect life, and you threw it all away for what? To come do crappy high school theatre in a town that couldn’t be further from New York? She fights a laugh suddenly, realizing just how much dirt she has on you. There must be a reason you’ve been keeping this secret, lying to everyone, lying to Ricky. She shakes her head. She doesn’t know why yet, but she’s going to find out. 

35 minutes before curtain, Miss Jenn gathers everyone for circle time, and a cast meeting to boost morale before the show. Everyone is finally in costume and Kourtney follows Seb, makeup pallet in hand, adjusting the finishing touches to the glitter on his cheeks. You can feel the energy stirring and growing, electric between all of you. 

“Most of you know that our dazzling Taylor had to leave under family circumstances. Gina sends her love and support, but has left for the east coast and will not be able to make it to tonight’s performance.” Miss Jenn says. You and Ricky share a look, trying not to be too obvious. You got Gina a plane ticket together, and your mom is at the airport right now to pick her up. The last you heard from her, Gina’s flight was delayed. Now there’s only a slim chance she’ll get here in time. You silently keep your fingers crossed, praying to whatever theatre gods are out there that she’ll make it to the theater before it's too late. 

“And so,” Miss Jenn continues, “I have asked… Kourtney to fill in, in her place!”

The room erupts into cheers. Kourtney smiles, eyes on the floor bashfully. She’s praying she doesn’t seem as nervous as she feels. It’s not that she didn’t expect you guys to be supportive of her subbing in as Taylor, but seeing first hand how excited everyone is for her eases some of the worries that have been building up. 

“Now,” Miss Jenn continues, “everyone join hands.” After some heartfelt words of encouragement and other usual circle time warm ups, she claps her hands.

“Let’s go, wildcats! 20 minutes to curtain!”

Once again, the room erupts into cheers. 

“Now, if I can get my main characters and my ensemble members starting the show with a mic on stage for mic check?” she directs, pointing towards the way to the wings. You walk with everyone else towards the stage, pausing when you pass Miss Jenn. 

“Do you want me to help Kourtney get ready?” you ask. Her hair and makeup are done, she just has to get in costume, but you can sense that she needs a pep talk. 

“That would be fantastic,” she says with a look that indicates she thinks Kourtney could use a pep talk too, “thank you, Sharpay.” She pulls out her walkie to let Big Red know you and Kourtney are going to be released from mic check early to finish getting ready. After singing We’re All In This Together while Big Red adjusts your volume from the sound booth, Kourtney sings Bop to the Top, voice getting louder and quieter as Red tweaks the settings. Once you’ve both gotten the thumbs up, you scurry backstage to your dressing room, handing her costume pieces while she gets changed. 

“Oh, wait,” you say before she pulls on her top. You grab your setting spray you use for shows from your bag. “Close your eyes.” You mist her face with the product, fanning it dry so it doesn’t smudge. 

“Thanks,” she says. You take one look at her expression, and can tell she’s nervous.  

“You okay?” You ask. She hesitates, then sighs.

“I had two weeks to learn all my lines. I had two weeks to learn all the lines and the songs, I haven’t even gotten to rehearse on stage with you guys, and I’m just so worried I’m going to blow it, or choke in front of everyone…” she trails off. This is clearly the tip of the iceberg, and she fiddles with her bracelets, trying to get out some nervous energy. 

“There is no way you’re going to choke.” you say confidently, “You know this show inside and out! Plus, haven’t you been running lines with Nini the whole time?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she replies, listening carefully, trying to grab onto your reassurance.

“Almost all of Taylor’s scenes are with Gabriella.” You state. Her expression changes as she realizes you’re right. She knows this part better than she was giving herself credit for. 

“Plus there will be scripts in the wings if you need to refresh between scenes.” 

“Yeah,” she says again, more confident this time. “I know my lines, I know the songs, I know the dances - mostly, at least - so it’s all going to be fine! Even if the choreography in Stick to the Status Quo is still totally terrifying, and I have no idea how to dance with a lunch tray or do a death wack, it’s going to be fine!” Her laughter turned from relieved to slightly panicked again. 

“You think you’re nervous for Stick to the Status Quo?” you ask rhetorically, a comedic note to your voice, “I have to get caked in the face!” You exclaim with a chuckle. You’ve only practiced with an actual cake once, during the last tech rehearsal, and it was messy, to say the least. Literally and figuratively. 

Kourtney laughs, remembering the whipped cream that got everywhere, how loud you were yelling in character before storming off. It took more makeup wipes than you'd expected to get the sticky sugar off your face. 

“We’ll get through it together.” You state, holding out your hand. She squeezes it, reassuringly.

“Yeah. We will.” 

“Five minutes to places!” Natalie calls, poking her head in. 

“Thank you five!” you both reply. You check your phone one last time, the new text from your mom stating that she’s still at the airport, waiting for Gina’s flight. You text Ricky the same thing, letting him know you’re all still waiting for more updates on the delay. The good news is that your mom’s friend from work - who was planning on coming to see the show anyway - is going to stream the show to your mom until she can get there, that way she won’t miss anything. 

It doesn’t feel like five minutes has gone by when Natalie is calling for places, ushering everybody into the wings and into their starting places and positions. Hushed whispers of encouragement and break a leg spread through the wings, and everyone falls silent as Miss Jenn begins her curtain speech. It’s unusual for a group of such high energy people to be so still, so quiet, and you soak up every moment of it. This is your favorite part - or one of them, at least; it's those few fleeting minutes when everyone’s backstage in the wings, the opening of the show is seconds away and hurdling closer and closer with every breath, every heartbeat. This is one of those magical, transformative, fleeting times that can only really be described as in between. 

You never knew just how much you would miss this, the distinct and irreplaceable energy, the feeling of being in a theater. Tears spring to your eyes as it really hits you that you’re home, back where you’ve always needed to be. You close your eyes, taking deep, measured breaths to focus, to get into that headspace of being in character. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel it around you; the rich wood and cement mixing into different sections of the floor, the heavy curtains, the grid and catwalk and lights, all intangibly high and far away. It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful that you don’t know how your body is supposed to contain it. You know now that you could never leave, not really. Theatre will always be your home, and you know this feeling will only solidify more and more with time. You realize, too, that it’s a home that will always grow and change and evolve with you, because that’s in its eternal, fleeting nature. That’s the most beautiful part, you think.

You squeeze Seb’s hand in excitement and encouragement and every other good thing, a gesture that he returns. In spite of the silence and the stillness, you know that everyone is just as excited as you are. Ricky’s in the opposite wing, or else you’d be squeezing his hand right now too right now. You use this moment, this stillness that's growing and getting more charged with energy every second, to become laser focused on giving this performance everything you've got - on really getting your head in the game. 

Nini looks around, then over at Ricky - again. He’s been avoiding her this whole night, and she can’t stand it. She leans closer. 

“I need to talk to you. After the show.” someone shushes her, and she lowers her voice, continuing. “She’s been lying to you about everything. You don’t know everything about her, Ricky.” 

“Yes, I-” he cuts himself off, not wanting to feed into this. Not now. “I have to get into character.” He says, moving away from her. He tries to focus on the energy the cast is creating around him, on becoming Troy. He takes a breath, centering himself. 

“Without further ado, I am proud to present… East High’s High School Musical: the Musical!” Miss Jenn’s voice is drowned out by applause, and the music begins. 

The first few songs and scenes go smoothly; everyone is on time and remembering their cues, and the audience couldn’t be more engaged, applauding and laughing right when you want them to. During Jack Scott’s announcements after Darbus reveals what the winter musical is going to be, you leave to get ready for What I’ve Been Looking For. You pass by Ricky, who’s quick changing for Get’cha Head in the Game, and shoot him a big thumbs up.

“Great job!” you whisper enthusiastically, stomping your feet quietly in excitement.

“Thanks,” he smiles, beaming as he pulls on his jersey. He watches you scurry down the hall before getting nudged toward the stage right before his cue. He shakes his head, wondering why he let Nini get him so worked up before. Of course he knows you. He knows everything about you! There’s absolutely nothing on earth you could tell him that would throw him off, or scare him away from you. She’s probably just making something up to get in his head, to drive a wedge between you. That seems like something she would do lately.

“Let’s see some hustle! Move, move, move!” Coach Bolton calls from onstage, and Ricky jogs over to him, as ready as he'll ever be.

“Sorry I’m late, coach.”

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he’s trying to stay in character and stay focused on the scene, Nini’s words are still echoing in the back of his mind, throwing him off a little. He catches his dad’s eye in the crowd as the music starts. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this proud, and it steadies Ricky. He takes in a breath, and begins to sing. Part way through the song, he notices a woman in the crowd who looks weirdly like his mom. He doesn’t miss a beat, making sure to look in his dad’s direction instead. That’s weird, he thinks, but it can’t be her. There’s no way she’d come all the way from Chicago for something like this. Just like what Nini said to him before the show, he won’t let that distract him from performing, and tries not to let that throw him off.

During the dance break, he gets hooked up to his harness, and his stomach erupts into excited butterflies as he slowly moves up. There’s a collective gasp from the crowd that turns into cheers as he hovers in front of the hoop, ball in hand. Up here, he’s not blinded by the stage lights, and he looks down at the crowd, able to see his dad’s face even better than before. He’s filled with such euphoria, he knows you’re right - nothing can beat this feeling. He feels more alive, more awake than he ever has, simultaneously enveloped by a deep sense of peace, of rightness that he doesn’t want to let go of. 

On the other side of the auditorium, someone moves, catching his eye. Some guy is making his way into his seat, presumably because he showed up late. He leans over to his date, kissing her and touching her leg. Nothing could have prepared Ricky for what he saw when he pulled away. Past the blinding stage lights, his stomach plummets back down to earth as he’s able to make out more faces in the audience - including hers. She’s here. She’s really here, and she brought that douchebag with her. She’s whispering something in that bastard’s ear, barely five rows away from his dad. They’re all over each other, talking close and kissing and smiling. 

It’s only when she points up at him that he snaps out of it. He realizes the pit has been waitin for his cue a beat or two longer than usual, and follows up quickly with it. He had dropped his basketball when he was up there, and he’s scrambling to make it through the rest of the number. He tries desperately to get back into character, to focus on the lyrics and choreography, to focus on the music instead of what he just saw in front of him, but he can’t shake what just happened, what he just saw. Even as he’s being pulled backstage to change into the costume for his next scene, it takes all his effort not to let that overwhelm him. He can’t crumble right now, not like this. There’s a whole cast and crew, all his friends, that are counting on him. He gets some water, tries to pull himself together. 

EJ looks for Ricky backstage, having a few minutes before their next scene. Even he has to admit he was impressed with Ricky’s performance back there. He looked so conflicted, so torn between basketball and singing. He even managed to make his distracted blocking and choreography look so organic EJ was worried he’d messed up for a second. He’s been giving him a hard time, butting heads on and off stage, but Ricky is really shining tonight. He’s committed, and EJ has to commend him for that. 

“Ricky,” he says, just loudly enough to get his attention. Ricky turns around. “I have to hand it to you; you’re doing great out there, man. You deserve all the applause you’re getting.” 

Ricky takes a breath, closing his water bottle.

“Thanks.” 

He stares into space to the ceiling on EJ’s right, gripping his water bottle until his knuckles have a white cast to them. EJ’s brow furrows. He actually seems a little out of it. 

“Are you okay?” he asks carefully. They’re not really close like that, but even EJ can see that he seems a little off. 

“I’m fine,” he says a little too fast. “I am totally fine. Because it’s opening night, and nothing’s going to ruin this.” 

Suddenly it makes sense. He knows exactly what Ricky’s going through. He sighs. 

“Look, everybody gets stage fright. Just take a deep breath, and use the music and your lines to stay grounded.” He claps Ricky on the shoulder supportively.

“Thanks,” he chokes out again. EJ leaves to fix his mic tape, and Ricky is once again exactly where he doesn’t want to be - alone with his thoughts. Even though EJ has no idea of the scope of issues Ricky’s dealing with right now, his advice might still work. Instead of waiting in his dressing room, he hovers in the wings, going over the chemistry class scene as it happens, waiting for the lights to go down so he can talk to you, or at least be near you. He’s so tempted to barge onstage and drag you away with him. Instead he listens closely to your dialog with Gabriella. Just hearing your voice is enough for him to hold on to for now.

The lights go down, and you exit into the wings. You’re surprised to find Ricky there - he usually comes up about half way through Jack Scott’s narration. One look at his face and you know something’s wrong. Before you can ask, he’s pulling you into a less busy area by the prop table. 

“She’s here.” He grips your arm, hand shaking. He doesn’t need to say anything else, you already have a full grasp on the gravity of the situation, the effect this is having on him. 

“Here?” you ask, needing to clarify, and he nods. “Are you okay?” you ask sincerely.

“I’m…” he struggles for an answer, “trying to be.” You take his hands in yours so gently he doesn’t even notice until your thumbs are stroking his skin reassuringly.

“Okay,” you say calmly, and he can see the gears turning, see you figuring out the perfect solution as you speak. “Why don’t you have some water, stay right here, and I’ll go get Miss Jenn, okay?” 

He nods, and you move quickly to Natalie, asking her if she knows where Miss Jenn is. She picks up her walkie talkie, asking Miss Jenn to come to the stage right wing. Jack’s narration scene wraps up and the crew changes the set to Darbus’s detention. You have seconds before you have to get out there, and you turn to Ricky, worried about him. 

“Are you going to be okay?” you ask in a hushed whisper. 

“Yeah.” he says, “I think so.” 

You see Miss Jenn walking toward the stage right wing as you’re about to head onstage.

“We’ll talk to her right after.” you tell him in a hushed, reassuring whisper. You give his hand one more squeeze before you find your places in the dark. Moments later, the lights are up, and the scene begins. In all the time you’ve spent acting, you’ve gotten very good at staying in character, compartmentalizing thoughts and worries about your personal life while you’re onstage. You find it a little more difficult to keep the disgust at Lynne Bowen’s blatant lack of basic respect, or even awareness for the consequences of her actions, buried in the back of your mind as the scene plays out. 

Sitting on the wooden flooring of the stage, warm under the bright lights, Ricky does exactly what he’s supposed to do - he uses the scene and dialog to stay grounded. He follows the dialog while doing his stage business, listening for his cues just like Miss Jenn thought him to do. If he stays in character, he doesn’t have to think about any offstage drama. As long as he doesn’t look out to that section of seats, as long as he can keep his eyes from being magnetically drawn there, he’s going to be fine. He stays in character, stays right there as Troy, clinging to his character like a life raft. If he can be Troy, he doesn’t have to worry about everything he’s going to have to deal with as Ricky for just a few more minutes. It's desperate and fleeting, but it's the only thing he can do right now. 

Soon, the lights are down, and you’re hustling toward the stage right wing, where you know Miss Jenn is waiting. He finds your hand in the dark, the sparkly pink sequins on your outfit unmistakable even in the darkness. He holds onto you desperately, until you’re both standing in front of Miss Jenn. She knows from one look that whatever is going on, it’s bad. 

“Um," Ricky starts, swallowing hard, "my mom is here…” he hates that his voice is already trembling so soon. It sounds more like a question than a statement, and his stomach twists at how foreign the word now feels in his mouth. My mom. The last time he called her that had been months ago when he told you and Miss Jenn what had happened. Ever since he’s only referred to her through pronouns and as briefly as possible, trying to disconnect the person she is from who she was supposed to be. Who he thought she was. The closest he’s gotten to addressing her has been vague statements; she didn’t call back, or I think that was her recipe, let’s find a different one. Actually saying it, actually calling her that makes his jaw feel stiff. 

“My god.” Miss Jenn says softly, unable to believe that she could have the audacity to show up unannounced after what she put Ricky through. Ricky hesitates, and she knows there’s more. She nods, waiting for him to continue. 

“And she, uh,” he swallows thickly, hating his throat for tightening up so much when he has to sing in a few minutes, “she brought her boyfriend…” Your eyes widen and Miss Jenn gasps. 

“They’re in the sixth row, they keep talking and kissing, and-” he cuts himself off, unable to continue. His hands are balled up, tight and shaking. 

“Okay. Ricky, sweetie, why don’t we talk about this somewhere a little more private.” You both guide him to the boys’ dressing room, and after making sure no one’s in there, she sits down facing him, and takes his hands in hers. 

“From the beginning, what happened?” 

He was barely able to get it out the first time, but now he can’t stop. Everything he’s been trying so hard to ignore and shove down for the last 20 minutes - and it’s felt way longer than 20 minutes - comes tumbling out. He doesn't think he could stop talking if he tried. He doesn’t even realize how loud he’s getting until Miss Jenn gently shushes him. 

“We don’t want the audience to hear us.” he nods, taking a breath for the first time since he started talking. You left a minute ago to check on how much time you have before the next scene, and reenter the dressing room now, looking stressed. 

“They’re almost done with Auditions.” you state. You need to go up there now, you and Seb have What I’ve Been Looking For soon, and you don’t want to miss your cue. 

“Go,” she says. Ricky nods, so you do, knowing that Miss Jenn has this under control, that she can help Ricky right now. Your footsteps recede, and Ricky turns back to Miss Jenn. 

“Ricky,” she starts calmly, “what she did was wildly inappropriate.” He already feels a little better, less crazy, and he waits for her to continue. 

“Showing up unannounced with a…" she chooses her words carefully, "date, was… probably the worst thing that could have happened tonight.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs in agreement. She continues.

“You have every right to be as upset as you are. Whatever you need right now, just tell me, okay?” He nods. “I think what we should do is get your dad, and let him know what’s going on. I can try to have one of the ushers escort her out, but I’m sure the last thing you want tonight is even more drama.” 

“Got that right,” he breathes, relieved. 

“I’m going to talk to EJ and see if he can go on as Troy-” 

“What? No.” he protests. 

“Ricky-” 

“No, Miss Jenn- I have to play Troy. Please, I have to!” 

“It might be best for you-” 

He stands up suddenly. “What’s best for me is going out there; acting and singing, like we rehearsed -  like I’m supposed to! Please, you can’t…” 

“Okay,” she says, standing up and trying to calm him down a little. “Okay. If you think you can do it, you can go back out there.” 

He relaxes a little. 

“Thank you.” his voice breaks as he speaks, and she realizes how badly he needs this right now.

“Why don’t we revisit this at intermission, see how you’re feeling then? Just to check up on you.” she adds quickly. 

“Okay.” he agrees. She puts a hand on his arm. 

“I’m going to let EJ know to get ready, just in case you change your mind. We’ve got to be ready for anything, right?” She smiles gently, one he tries to return. 

“Right,” he says. A stagehand pokes his head into the room.

“Troy, we need you.”

“Be right there,” Miss Jenn says. She claps her hand over Ricky’s one more time. “Okay, Ricky, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go out there and sing a ballad with Gabriella that will make the audience swoon,” he smiles, “and I am going to do my best to get this situation resolved as quickly and discreetly as possible. If anything else happens, or you need anything, come tell me right away.”

“Okay.” he says, this time, with a note of determination in his voice. Miss Jenn pats him on the back, sending him off. He runs through the halls, making it just in time. Once he’s in the wings, she pulls out her phone to text Mike, and fill him in on everything that’s going on. He enters on Gabriella’s cue, and Miss Jenn pauses, watching him deliver his lines. All the distress, all the pain melts away as he steps into character.

It’s giving him a break from everything, she thinks, it has been the whole time. Theatre isn’t just a luxury or a passion for some people, it’s a means of survival. It hits her all at once, that in staying here, in facing the challenges and struggles that came from directing this show, she’s helping Ricky through one of the hardest things he’ll ever go through. She’s become the person she needed when she was his age; with only one parent, feeling completely lost at sea. Her chest squeezes, and she watches them sing, their voices sending a chill through her. 

Backstage, in the few dark moments of the set change for Cellular Fusion, Nina somehow manages to corner you. 

“What did you do to him?” she demands, and you know she’s referring to Ricky, who exited to the other wing. You stare at her, aghast. You lean in close, lowering your voice, desperately holding on to your professionalism. 

“We have to go onstage, literally right now. I am not doing this with you right now.” 

“Huh,” she scoffs with a fake smile, “you’re one to talk.” You have approximately two seconds to look at her, baffled by everything she’s saying, before you have to go on. You enter, and hit your mark. At the cue, you and Seb begin to harmonize. Right as you do, your phone - tucked away in the wings - silently begins to buzz. Your phone lights up with a text from your mom, informing you that Gina’s flight has finally landed, and they’ll be at the theater any minute. 

You run off stage as Cellular Fusion wraps up, and Miss Jenn and Carlos are trying to figure out what to do about the Taylor dance break coming up. Kourtney has been doing great so far, but she doesn’t think she can handle choreography that complicated with so little time to rehearse.

“I could tell the pit to cut that section…” Carlos offers. You check your phone and your eyes light up, looking at the doorway. 

“Uh,” you start with a smile, “I don’t think that will be an issue…”

Miss Jenn, Carlos, and Kourtney look over at Gina, smiling timidly. 

“Oh, thank god,” Miss Jenn chokes out. She turns to Kourtney, then Gina. “You, go out there before you miss your cue. And you, quick change into something more 2006 before the dance break.”

They both agree, and a stagehand runs over with something for Gina to change into, guiding her to the dressing rooms. 

“Is he doing any better?” you ask Miss Jenn before you go on. You don’t have much time, but you need to know if he’s okay.

“A little,” she says, “I think.” You both know it’s better than nothing, and you’re just hoping whatever he’s doing keeps working. 

Stick to the Status Quo couldn’t be going any better. There’s so much happening, so much organized chaos, that he forgets about everything for a few wonderful minutes. There’s no time to think about that when he’s dancing on tables, begging his classmates not to sacrifice their individuality so they can fit in. It only gets better when you and Seb enter toward the end of the number. You look so genuinely pissed off that people are breaking free from the boxes they’ve been put in, and your voices sound perfect harmonizing together, reverberating through the auditorium.

He tries in vain to stop Zeke from giving you a cake, watching with bated breath as it smashes into your face. He turns away, just like he’s supposed to, but his eyes accidentally land on the one place in the audience he shouldn't be looking at.  His stomach plummets. Has she been on her phone this whole time? After running from everything this whole night, it finally gets the best of him. He can’t stand it any longer, running into the wings as you let out an ear shattering scream, loud enough to finally make her look up.

“Someone… is going… to pay for this!” you yell furiously, before the lights go down. The curtain draws to a close as applause thunders through the building. The lights in the house go up for intermission, and you hear a slow rise of chatter as people mill about and make conversation as you exit the stage. You grab a makeup wipe a stagehand has ready, thanking them as Natalie calls out that intermission is starting, and you have 20 minutes to places for act two.

“Thank you 20,” you call out distractedly, searching for Ricky. You run to the back, wiping the rest of the whipped cream off your face, and check the boys dressing room to see if he’s in there. He is, sitting in there by himself, seeming worse than before. One look at his face and you know something else happened.

“She was on her fucking phone the whole time!” he states in disbelief, “Like…” The words dry up as he holds a pillow in his lap in a death grip. 

“Oh my god…” you say, shaking your head. He’s not doing good, clearly. No one would be in his position. He pulls you in for a hug as soon as you’re close enough, one you reciprocate. He holds onto you tight, feeling just a little more stable as soon as you’re in his arms. Surrounded by your familiar grasp, it’s just a little easier to breathe, to think clearly. Unfortunately, it also means he has a much clearer grasp on everything that’s happened tonight and how it’s affecting him, how he feels about it. His dad is right behind you, and he lets go of you long enough to stand up and greet him. His dad pulls him into a hug, patting his back. 

“I’m so sorry, kid. I had no idea she was going to pull something like this.” Mike’s voice wavers, and when Ricky doesn’t answer, you know it’s because he’s choked up. Miss Jenn enters a moment later, walking over to Ricky and Mike. 

“The both of them have been removed from the premises.” She states. 

“Thank you,” Mike says earnestly. 

“Oh, it was nothing a little faked parking violation couldn't take care of,"  she says, earning a small smile from Mike. She turns to Ricky, continuing. “I filled you dad in on what’s been going on, too.” 

“Maybe we should just go home,” Mike offers, knowing he probably won’t want to. 

“No,” he protests, “I can do act two, I want to. Plus, if we leave now, she’ll know where we are and she’s going to ambush us again, and-” 

“The one place you’re guaranteed not to run into her is here at the theater.” you finish quietly. 

“Yeah,” Ricky agrees, motioning to you. Mike considers, weighing his options. Since she’s gone, if Ricky thinks he can handle it, he doesn’t see why he can’t do the second half of the show - especially since he seems to want to so badly. Maybe now isn’t the time to take that away from him, even if he means well.

“Okay,” he sighs. “But if anything happens, if you change your mind at all-”

“You’re the first to know.” Ricky agrees quickly. 

“I want you to stay plugged in with me, okay?” Mike says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Text me when you’re not onstage, let me know how you’re doing.” Ricky agrees again. Miss Jenn looks between them. 

“Alright. Well, in that case, Ricky, you should get changed for act two.” She says with a tentative smile. He nods. 

“Thank you. Thank you guys.” he says sincerely to his dad and Miss Jenn. Before you leave, you catch his eye.

“I’m going to refill my water, then I’ll be back here, okay?” 

“Sounds good." He says, "Hurry back,” he adds quickly, giving you that sweet look with those big puppy dog eyes, and it makes your chest squeeze. 

“Absolutely.” you agree. 

You barely leave the dressing room before you're met with Nina. She barges forward and stands in front of you, arms crossed, and you realize she's waiting for you to move out of the way so she can get into the boys' dressing room. You don't budge. 

“I need to talk to Ricky. I heard what happened, and I'm the only one who can convince him to go on for the second act, and I don’t need you-” 

“Wow,” you begin, cutting her off, once again amazed at her audacity, “now is really not a good time. Don’t go in there and stir things up.”  

She looks you up and down, letting out an indignant scoff. 

“Don’t act like you know him like that. I’ve known him since we were in kindergarten, I know him better than anyone.” 

You take in a deep breath, trying so hard to stay patient. 

“Sure. You know him better than anyone.” you say, in a pacifying tone, “So you should know the last thing he needs is more pressure on him when he’s in the middle of a family crisis, right?” The question is rhetorical, and you continue, patience with her finally starting to run thin. “If you actually care about him, then for the sake of his well being you’ll leave him alone and let him get through this. Now is really not the time, Nina, read the goddamn room!” 

The sentence is finished with an aggravated, humorless laugh. Your priorities right now are Ricky, and getting through opening night. You need to help him process some of the shit that's been happening tonight, make sure he’s okay, so he can perform like he wants to. The last thing he needs is Nina barging in there and telling him he’s letting the cast down, or that he’s not serious about theatre, and that he should have quit after auditions - all of which you’ve heard more times than you can count over the duration of rehearsals, even up to a few days ago. 

You’ve tried so hard to be patient with her, but dear god, she’s really starting to get on your last nerve - nevermind the fact that you have a special type of hatred for the kind of people like Nina, who shit on people that are still learning about something they have more experience in; like telling someone they’re not serious about theatre because it’s their first show, for example.

“Do not fuck with him right now.” you state, rolling your eyes at her shocked expression.

You push past her, walking over to the water fountain. She watches you walk away, mouth hanging open, and lets out an indignant scoff. You swear to god, if one more thing goes wrong tonight, if one more person tries you, you’re going to absolutely lose it. You take a few deep breaths as you fill up your bottle, trying to calm down and center yourself a little. Once you’re done, you start to walk back to the dressing rooms, but you’re stopped by a woman who is definitely not cast or crew. She sees you and approaches, seeming a little pissy. 

“I’m looking for Ricky Bowen?” she states. As she speaks, your stomach drops. 

You recognize her voice from when you heard it on the phone, and from the voicemail Ricky showed you over Thanksgiving. This is Lynne Bowen. As in, the Lynne Bowen. The one that left.  The same woman who’s made such a tactless and selfish decisions over and over that have ultimately caused her son to be on the verge of a breakdown just down the hall from where you’re standing right now. 

“You are not supposed to be back here.” you state, desperately trying to figure out how to handle this. You pull out your phone and text Miss Jenn, ‘code red, really need backup’.

“Can you just tell me where Ricky Bowen is? I’m his mother.” she says it in a way immediately expects sympathy from you, sympathy she doesn’t receive. You stare at her blankly, and she continues, much less kind than she’d been pretending to be. “I need to see my son, okay? Maybe when you’re a mother someday you’ll understand-”

You’re not sure what about her, about the way she’s talking to you specifically is the last straw for you, but your patience is already running so thin it’s practically transparent. Against your better judgment, you cut her off. 

“He does not want to see you. He doesn’t want to speak to you - or be anywhere near you right now, for the record - and you need to fucking respect that, okay?” you say decisively, offense written all over her face, “And you are really not allowed to be backstage if you’re not cast or crew, which you’re clearly not-” 

“You are way out of line, young lady!” she yells, “I don’t care if he doesn’t want to talk. I’ll talk to him if I want to; I’m his mother.”  She adjusts her purse, clearly expecting you to fold, to tell her where he is. You know you should keep your mouth shut, you know you should be diplomatic and patient and professional like you always are, you should wait for Miss Jenn to handle this, but you’ve spent the past three months watching Ricky suffer because of this woman and her choices. You can’t stay quiet when the woman who hurt him is right in front of you. 

“I think you lost the right to pull that shit when you walked out the door and chose not to be in his life!” you snap, a dangerous smile on your face. The stunned look on her face is better than anything you’ve ever seen. It’s clear no one has ever tried to take her down a peg until now. 

“How dare-” 

“You gave him a free pass to hate you forever, because you’re not the parent who stayed! You didn’t try-” 

Your words lose momentum as you find yourself suddenly looking at the wall to your right, your cheek stinging. The sound of her slapping you across the face echos across the walls for a moment before fading away, and you freeze, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from shock.

“Listen here you little slut,” she says, much more ferocious than before. All facades of a concerned mother have melted away. “You have no right to talk to me like that-” 

“What the fuck?!” 

You snap out of it, and she turns around at Ricky’s voice at the end of the hall.

“Ricky, my baby,” she starts, walking toward him, but she’s thrown off at how distant he seems toward her. “I’m sorry you had to see that, this girl is so-” 

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again.” His voice is stone cold as he brushes past her, analyzing your expression closely to see if you’re alright. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice shaky.

“I’m fine,” you say as calmly as possible, “are you okay?” 

He’s decidedly not, but he tries to pull himself together. 

“If you are, that’s all that matters.” Behind him, growing impatient, Lynne takes a step forward.

“Ricky,” she demands. He takes a breath, and leans closer to you. 

“You should change for act two.” You look between them, wishing there was something else you could do, some way that you could make this better. You agree, stopping before you leave for your dressing room. 

“Text me if you need anything.” you say seriously, and he agrees, understanding the subtext of your words. Text you if he needs backup, or if it gets to be too much, because you’re there for him. Lynne moves toward him again. 

“Can we talk?” she says with a domineering tone to her voice, and you both know it’s not a question. You want to object, but all he wants is to get her away from you. He nods, indicating you should go, and you do - albeit, very reluctantly. He turns back to her. 

“Yeah,” he says seriously, “I think we need to.” 

She grabs his arm to lead him down another stretch of hallway, but he shakes her off immediately, walking a few feet in front of her. 

“Ricky, are you alright?” she demands, once they’re relatively out of earshot. She crosses her arms. “I was so worried about you when you ran offstage like that.” 

“I’m surprised you noticed.” he murmurs. She either ignores him or doesn’t hear. Regardless, she continues. 

“Why did you leave? Is it stage fright? Because a lot of people are counting on you, honey. You made a commitment to this-” 

“You’re one to talk about commitment,” he mutters, voice low, but loud enough to be heard. His impulse control is not at all where it should be, especially with how she just talked to you, what she called you.

“I’m sorry?” Lynne demands. She’s not used to Ricky yelling at her. She’s always had a lot of influence over him. He used to do everything she said, he’s always been such a mama’s boy until now. 

“I mean, do you ever think about anyone besides yourself?” he snaps, “Did you even care that you ruined the only thing I’ve been able to count on in my life- I can never get this night back, Lynne. And now…” he trails off, trying so hard to regulate his emotions, even though he knows he’s out of control. He takes a shaky breath, trying with everything he has inside him to reign it back in a little. 

“...Why would you bring him to the show?” 

Lynne looks stunned at his question. 

“Wh-” she starts, “This is about Todd?”

“Why would you bring him here?” He demands, repeating himself.

“I…” she struggles for an answer, “wanted him to meet you.” she infuses as much guilt into her words as she can. He should feel bad for the way he’s speaking to her. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to throw you off.” 

It doesn’t work this time, and he refuses to back down, to fawn for her. He doesn’t buy it for a second.

“So you waited until I was suspended, mid air over a basketball hoop, for me to see you all… cozied up together? You didn’t think - not for one second - that might be just a little upsetting to me?!” 

“Ricky-”

“And what about dad, huh? How do you think he feels watching you feel each other up right in front of him?” tears brim in the corners of his eyes as everything he’s been suppressing all night, all these weeks and months finally breaks the surface. She lets out an indignant scoff and tries to say something, but he ignores her and keeps going. It’s an avalanche now, and he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 

“He didn’t leave the couch for a week after you left!” he roars, remembering how hard it was to see his dad like that, to have to be the one to drag him out of it. 

“...I didn’t know that-”

“How could you?!” he laughs bitterly, "You weren't there!" He screams. He doesn't think it's ever felt better to say something than it does now. "You weren't there the whole time I was rehearsing, you weren't the one running lines and going over blocking, and teaching me how to listen for cues and do stage makeup and quick change! You weren't there for any of the work that went into this, and you just waltz in here with the newest guy you're screwing to your fucking son's musical like you've been here the whole time, but you havent!" He's never yelled at her like this, but a part of him thinks after how much she hurt him - and his dad - it's long overdue. "You don't get to enjoy this show, and you don't get to be around me, or dad, or anything we do because you walked out!"

"You are way out of line-" she starts, voice cracking. 

"No, you know what’s way out of line?" He demands, all too ready to throw her words back in her face. "Breaking my heart, breaking dad’s heart, then acting like everything is fine when it’s not!"

"You think I wanted to leave you?!" She screams back at him. 

"Yeah," he answers quickly, "I do, because you did! And you know what? I'm glad you left." He spits, watching the pain grow in her eyes, his words like venom. 

"All you do is hurt us." 

She blinks like she was just slapped. He takes a step forward, shaking, angry tears silently spilling from his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is low and dead serious. 

"Don't call me anymore."

Before she can say anything, he starts to walk away. She calls out to him, desperate to get the last word in, to make him know how much pain his words have caused her. 

"You are really hurting me, Ricky." She says, voice shaking as she cries, "you're breaking your mother's heart."

The sound of his mother crying like that because of something he said should have wrecked him, but he pushes away any last remaining scraps of guilt his rage hasn't burned away yet. He turns back to her, no love in his eyes, and laughs bitterly.

"Yeah, I guess it runs in the family. You know, the one thing I got from you is the ability to ruin any relationship I have, so thanks for that, mom." He spits, turning to leave. She takes a step forward. 

"Don’t you walk away from me-"

"Like mother like son, huh?" He barks. With that, he's gone. He doesn't stick around for any more of her manipulation or guilt tactics. He just really, really needs to see you right now.