#god that experience sounds fucking amazing where can i get that anger

[trekkele]

i saw a post (that was part of a larger thing) that said “anger feels good” and no it doesn’t! I hate how anger makes me feel i hate how it sinks into you and sticks and makes everything and everyone an enemy, everything and everyone someone to hurt and to blame. Anger doesn’t feel good it feels easy and its so easy to sit in it and let it control you and having to claw at your own ribcage to get it out it is so hard, its so fucking hard, and sometimes you’re so tired and you just want it to be easy, just once, just let that anger sit and let it be easy

I don’t have a point here, i just. Anger is easy. Easy doesn’t get shit done around here.

[stiricidewrites]

All the Things We’ll Leave Behind: ch 27, pt 1

Hello!~

I return. It's amazing.

Previously~

~

Menace was the perfect word to describe a drunken lwj. If jzxuan had thought the other alpha drunk before, after a single drop of nmj’s drink, it was nothing compared to him now. The lwj of now had, according to jyl’s expertise in being the only person in the area with experience herding a drunken Lan, likely drank the entirety of whatever had been in Chong-xiansheng’s drink—and likely something very hard at that, jyl had unhelpful supplied as she dodged jzxuan’s attempts to catch her and make her help him drag lwj along.

That was, currently, the biggest problem: lwj didn’t want to move.

He had caught sight of something in the bushes and had refused to either tell them what it was—although he had confirmed for them with a somewhat dubious nod that it wasn’t anything they should be afraid of—or leave. The only things he had done for the last twenty minutes was stare into the increasingly dark forest and occasionally shush them.

“Do you know what it could have been?” he whispered to jyl once he had given up trying to force lwj to move—the man was a brick wall, and while jzxuan would have loved to have been able to see what he was hiding under those clothes, the man’s strength was currently inconvenient.

“No idea,” the omega woman replied as they watched lwj take slow, careful steps towards the edge of the trail—his first real movement since he had frozen there forever ago. “You don’t think he’s going to—”

jyl’s words cut off as her unsaid prophecy proved true and lwj darted into the forest, his movements simultaneously graceful and impossibly loud.

“Fuck!” jzxuan growled as he began to run after his friend, only to skid to a stop when he realized jyl wasn’t following him. “Are you coming?” he asked incredulously as he turned towards her.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “jzxuan,” she sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. “I can barely walk out here, where I can see the hazards of the ground, without my shoes. What makes you think I’ll get more than a step or two into those woods before I impale myself on something?”

“But…” jzxuan trailed off. He couldn’t leave her here. He couldn’t let lwj run off into the woods chasing god knows what. He— He—

“He’ll be fine,” jyl assured him, her words surprisingly confident. “Or, at least he’s more likely to be okay than you are if someone finds out you left me here alone.” Okay, maybe not so confident.

He couldn’t deny the truth in her words though. If anyone found out he had left her out here alone… he didn’t want to think about what his aunt would do to him. He didn’t even think his mother’s friendship with the testy alpha would help him much, and heaven help him if anything actually happened to the omega! He’d have to leave the country and go into hiding to escape that woman’s wrath. Actually, his own mother would probably come chasing after him in anger if he let something happen to jyl as well.

She smiled at him, her expression more than a little pained and sympathetic before it dropped away she looked towards the now empty woods, the sounds of lwj crashing through the forest growing fainter and fainter. “We should… ah… find some way to sneak back into Lotus Pier, I suppose?”

jzxuan growled menacingly at her, his annoyance growing when she didn’t even have the decency to look as though she considered him a threat. “Fine,” he spit out after a few second of glaring at her. “Last thing I need is for us being alone together to get out. I don’t think either of us wants to be forced into mating each other—especially not because of something as stupid as this.”

“Indeed not,” jyl agreed, tapping her chin in thought. “Hmmm…”

jzxuan continued to glare at her while she—hopefully—used a lifetime living in the area to devise a way for them to get back into her family’s compound. Surely she had heard stories from her uncle about how he had gone about sneaking in and out when he lived here?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, lwj’s crashing having long vanished into the distance, he broke the silence. “Your grumpy brother brought you your phone, didn’t he? Can’t you call someone? Him even? To come back and act as an escort?”

jyl’s eyes shot to his, wide and shocked. “Oh…” she breathed out. “I forgot it at the restaurant.”

jzxuan sighed and fell into a low, depressed and exhausted squat. “Of course you did.”

~

A/N: Goodbye lwj, don't worry, your friends will find you... probably.

I'll be back on Saturday!

[meandering-reality]

Fear of fear of fear of fear, ugg get over it

When I finally stepped out from under the avalanche of rainbows and unicorns I had pulled over my eyes I realized that I feared death. Or at least that's how my over-thinking, anxiety riddled brain decided its thoughts on “where the heck am I doing with this info” led me.

Again, I wasn't raised religious. My mother was angry about being raised under my grandparents' religion and so she was an atheist. And while we didn't discuss it much, the emotions I picked up from her were always very bitter and angry about it.

My grandfather and great grandmother I always saw as it was a place to go on Sunday. Well scratch that for grandpa, there was always a game on. 

My grandmother however put her all into it. She sat down every day and studied the Bible as well. She never spoke to me about it either (I found out later that my mom had basically threatened to never let her see me again if she ever spoke about or took me to church). The one huge difference between the two is that my grandmother always felt like an angel to me.

Maybe it was a difference in personality. Or how they moved through the world. Perhaps age and experience as well. Whatever it was I look back at my childhood and see me being torn between my grandmother's love and my mother's lack of it.

I've had years to work on forgiveness. To realize she did the best she could with what she had. To hear stories of what an amazing and loving person she was. To find a way to love that kid I was. The one  that just wanted to feel like their mom loved them. To learn how to stick up for and protect that kid out of time.

All of these things lead into this cycle of 7 to 8 years of being flung back into a position where I feel like I've unlearned everything I worked on before. All coming to a head with the question what's going to happen to me when I die?

It's funny that oblivion never entered into the equation. It is more a fear of being alone, conscious and alone. I do have a spiritual belief, it's not as simple as saying I'm a Christian. It's also not as simple as saying I'm spiritual (why too many ideas and choices). I could narrow it by saying awakened but honestly that doesn't really narrow it much either.

I (when I'm not spiraling in all my unresolved crap) do believe in God, or creator or source or whatever word you want to use. I just don't believe in religious dogma. So where did that fear come from?

Especially since I've said to myself over and over that I'm not afraid to die. I'm not a fan of pain though so could we avoid that? The diagnosis just sent me into this twister of self hate, self doubt, mental self harm and it centered around my age and not feeling like I've done whatever I was supposed to do here.

Does anyone know that? A lot do, what about those of us that don't. There is a lot of emphasis put on following your path or purpose but not all paths are known. There is also a huge confusion with the earthly idea of purpose. They think of wealth being the goal. The mansion with 15 bedrooms, 20 baths and 4 pools (so small).

Your purpose could have just been to smile everyday. When we don't know it's easy to condem yourself for not doing it and then dying “bad”. Like I'm dying this young cause I've always been a fuck up. That's where my head went. That's when the fear set in. That's when I all of a sudden had the balls to start looking at things I wanted to do or change about myself and actually started.

For years I've had a victim (though I really learned to word it so it didn't sound like it) mentality about my relationship with anger. “This is what I learned from my mom”. Snap and scream. Twirling whirlwind thoughts that make it so when I walk away I can come back hours later and still be as angry and mean as I was before I went to “cool off”. 

It's a pattern that has kept me blissfully satisfied with what a horrible mess I am and why nobody should love me, I'm just not worth it. 

Aww a mother's love and teachings. Ha! I moved out at 18. This is hardly her doing at this point. It has much more to do with my belief in it. And instead of taking my grandmother's opposite words to heart I took the other and have struggled with so many deep dives into oblivion I can't count. I don't want to go there any more.

I know habits take a while to make and I've only just begun. Here's to taking a giant step towards the light and the love that awaits once I'm truly done with this incarnation. We've always been worthy of a beautiful afterlife, we just have to live it the best we can before we go.

Much love.

[krs724490]

7/18/2024

I want to type today I miss typing. and I was still somewhat shaming myself for wanting to type as if this was the quicker, easier way and somehow lesser. but I like the way it can keep up with my brain a bit more. I wonder if the thoughts become different this way. Possibly less patient. but idk. I feel sad about already kind of fucking up the Y6 job and asking for more time off. I feel sad about megan being messy about my availability. but also this is me setting boundaries. I need what I need to take care of myself. and I'm no longer bending around that. honestly its a take it or leave it type situation.

I'm getting more hostile. more angry. or maybe im noticing it more, letting it surface more. maybe I'm getting more particular. a good microcosm of it or metaphor is when the music is too loud anywhere. I can't stand it, I notice it and I need it to be turned down. I'm more particular. it feels more adult to have these sort of sensitivities. no longer being able to sleep in a dorm room that is shared. having more specific needs to keep you comfortable. I'm curious about where that comes from. why we acquire these specific needs.

this is me experiencing myself. these emotions and needs and actions pop up from my subconscious and I sit here holding them in my hands like hmmm where does this come from? and it feels lately theyve been so new. everything has shifted. I feel more spiritual. more connected. but also more angry and volatile and likely to do uncharacteristic things. I think its out of waking up. I think its anger from having bent myself so far sideways to accomodate the world. I dont even know myself and what I truly want because I've spent so long trying to be what everyone else wants of me.

I'm also realizing the way I got self worth was through very flimsy, surface things. Through my looks and the fact that I teach fitness and do a more cool, trendy job. I didn't get my self worth from the energy I carry. From the way I take care of myself. From the boundaries I set. From my connectedness to god. From my connectedness to my favorite self. From the way I am selfless and take care of the world. My self worth came not from making it through true, hard experiences. and now here I am and I feel it. I feel proud. That I am sitting here and I am doing the work and all cards are suspended mid-air. The jobs, the house, the boyfriend. and I can decide which to play and which to put down. I can do what is best for myself. I can sit and truly realize what makes sense. Maybe I do something whack and not work at high ride and just go back to ape. a true hiatus. I can feel my truth building and arising and it feels amazing. and I trust that things will flow and follow and I will learn and it will take time, but I trust. The food stuff is still difficult. I think lately I've given up most real efforts to 'stop' but I am open to what I could do today with it. to see if out of love and strength and pure support of myself. I can nip it in the butt before it comes a giant inner debate. if I can observe the true nature of what goes on from a neutral place and take myself to a place where I leave the nervous system activation, the place where I get frantic about making a decision to do it or not to do it. I am curious about myself. and I will hold myself through and nourish myself out. I am right here. and I am willing. Ready. to go to war for my most favorite self.

I'm not sure how this is connect to Graham, but I'm mad at him. For not telling me it was his brothers birthday and that they were going to see a concert. for not thanking me for sending a card and telling me how nice it was. for not saying bless you. for not checking in on me while the abortion was happening. for not taking care. for not caring. He sounded nervous on the phone and he should be. Every ounce of my tone of voice was I dont want to be here and do this anymore. and for some reason that is how I feel. and I can't shake it. I dont remember why I like him. and he doesn't really remind me. and so I will match his effort level. and not say good morning. and its the weird game you play with withdrawing love. but you have to honor yourself more than anything. I can't keep handing it to him when it isn't honest. my black cat hat was onnn last night. you want me to be mean to you? you want me to tell you like it is? fine. here. I dont remember why I like you and you dont show me why I should. Kindly, do better. Because at the rate this is going, I'm gone.

[sicsidsimp666]

The End, So Far Album Review

Hello. It's Toad. And this post is all about the new album that Slipknot put out and my thoughts live time while listening to it. This means that they are unfiltered. That being said please understand that I am thankful they shared their art with us yet again, and a review is merely my own opinion of how the music made me feel and my experience while listening to it. 

It's not an argumentative point nor do I wish to have a Socratic seminar on the internet. Spoiler Toad’s real personality is not Ben Shapiro so I don't really enjoy having frivolous little scuffles with people who I am largely unacquainted with. I’m not sure I made a gain in life anytime that I engaged in an argument on the internet. 

However, I love sharing knowledge with others and conversing (and for those of you who don't know arguing and conversing/learning new views are not the same thing!!!). Okay now that I've attracted people who like to fight bahaha let's get on to the review :)

Adderall: (4/10)

Reminds me of a musical

Acid trip influenced?

I feel like I'm slightly in the 70s

Overall eh and seems out of place, but new styles are always a great idea

The Dying Song: (9/10)

Already knew this one was a banger

Angry. I am in love.

Great message

Still can't be early Slipknot tho, but that's okay that's why the other albums are recorded and can be listened to at any time. They don't need to be the same to still be Slipknot.

The Chapeltown Rag: (10/10)

God damn I love this song

Make hyper brain feel very happy

Message is also good

Sid doing work? Okayyyyy!

The fucking breakdown at 1:37 ughhh 😩 Yummy.

Corey's deep voice power here is really showcased 👀

Yen: (8/10)

Like the spooky/eerie video and vibes

The guitar goes hard

We love to see Rat's solo!

Corey's voice really be horny hours

Chorus is a banger

Overall song is good, a little repetitive is all.

Hive Mind: (8/10)

Very much so like the spooky start. I feel like a terminator invader alien

Okayyyy go get it Jim, Mick, and Alessandro!

We can hear Clown and his shiny keg. We love.

Jay's getting a workout, too

Alien sounds are banging

Love the energy and anger of the song. Reminiscent of young Slipknot.

Warranty: (4/10)

Okay right away has me pumped

We are still in a spaceship

Hmmm not really vibing with this one. Seems a little slapped together.

I feel meh. It didn't really capture my attention.

Medicine for the Dead: (3/10)

I'm in a Scooby-Doo episode where it is set in a swamp and there is something swimming in the water.

The tempo is nice and feels powerful and is very methodical.

Song really made me realize how Corey's singing style has changed and grown

I don't know if I like the up and down/soft and heavy style :/

Acidic: (2/10)

I can see Shawn put his ✨artiste✨ mind to work here with all the intros

Feels very sinister in the opening

God damnit Corey keeps normally singing and I wanna just hear anger 😂 but still at least it is new and fresh

The guitar solo tho. Who's getting their dick sucked??? 👀👀👀

Ending was sort of strange and gave 70's vibes again

Overall not a fan of the new style here.

Heirloom (1/10)

Okay Sid go off I guess

Corey if you don't start screaming so help me God. Good on you tho for calming down in life 😂

I just. Everyone else is amazing. Really upped their skill set. Corey. You are on thin ice [please know that toad understands how amazing Corey's skill set is, this comment is made in jest. Please relax].

Did they accidentally put a stone sour song on the Slipknot album? 😂 @in-death-we-fall @custer-mp3

H377: (9/10)

I'm not getting my hopes up even tho the intro is dope

Finally we have remembered our roots as a nu-metal band

Tempo? Chef's kiss! 🤌🏻

Can't wait to go off like a crack squirrel when this comes on

Corey could sound a little more. Like. Angry? I don't know, just not like Corey quite yet.

Great guitar work again

Amazing

De Sade: (4/10)

Great seamless carry-over into the next song.

Nice Jay spotlight for a little

Whatever Corey repeats is um. Interesting? Hahaha

We pick up tempo and energy in the middle

Lots of high-pitched guitar which isn't bad, just something newer

Very nice base playing ♥️

The drawn out guitar after "why" is smexy

The "stab stab stab" in the background of the end guitar solo was lowkey funny and made me think of: who let Sid in the recording booth lmao

Overall just meh towards it, not bad tho.

Finale: (5/10)

Okay so we got like a melody violin and piano fairy in a cave thing going on?

Building up slowly

I like the layers of the chorus

Monkeys "oooohahahaha" very uhhh unique?

Guitar and base at like ≈3:00 is nice

We got some opera.

Song seemed to have the tone of coming to an acceptance that wasn’t necessarily wanted. 

Melancholy?? 

It was a great statement piece. Not my style. 

Overall: (6/10)

Great they still put out music. 

Trying new styles is great, dont want it to be stale they just didn’t vibe with me which is fine

For me 50/50 love/hate the songs. 

Separate from Sone Sour for the most part, but definitely the most mixed that Slipknot has been with them and their style. 

Probably my least favorite album. 

Will continue to listen to it and see if it grows on me more. I initially didn’t like WANYK also so things tend to grow better on me over time. 

[samstree]

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[crypticwanda]

I'm not sure if this is where I can ask for request but how about here it is hehe i hope you are comfortable enough and nothing is triggering with the request altho it is just calm i guess haha

How about:

Reader is the first and only survivor of the hydra experiment batch before wanda and pietro joined but reader never cooperated with hydra because she was only forced to be there (kidnapped) so they keep beating her up and then when wanda and pietro came, they become close, specially with wanda because they can communicate in their minds and one day maybe hydra is not happy with wanda's progress so they decide to punish her and then reader protected her, using her power for the first time

I'm so sorry if it's too specific. You can totally change a lot of things and you can decide the power. I just really want an overprotective!reader x Wanda 😂

Thank you so much for humoring me if ever hahaha i love your stories

Oh my god overprotective!reader is amazing and yes this is where you send requests, you did it right! Also thank you so much <33

To Protect You

summary: you are the survivor of an experimental group in HYDRA before Wanda and Pietro had arrived. You and Wanda are able to communicate through your mind due to both of your powers and become close to one another. One day, a guard starts hurting Wanda because of her performance, and you snap.

pairing(s): wanda maximoff x reader

warnings: overprotective!reader, violence, abuse, cursing

taglist:  @myperfectlovepoem @minnahbukharo  @supersourlemon13  @royalityofmultifandom @madamevirgo @b0mbdotc0m  @fayhar  @olsensnpn 

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily as you walked down the white hallways of the HYDRA outpost. Your wrists were red and aching from the thick metal cuffs harshly hitting your wrists. "Keep moving." You heard one of the guards say as you felt a violent push on your shoulder, causing you to grit your teeth and grunt in annoyance. "I am moving." You growl in annoyance as the guard scrunched his face in anger.

The guard had prepared to bring up his hand to strike you, but the the other guard standing next to you hand held his arm. "It's not worth it." He mutters as the other guard puts his arm down. You couldn't even feel happy about it, you knew that the only reason he stopped him was so that they wouldn't get their asses in trouble. You turned your head back forward as your eyes continued to peer angrily ahead.

A loud metallic noise was heard when the door to your cell had opened vertically. You grunted as you felt one of the guards push your back harshly as you stumbled into the cell. “I can walk on my own.” You mutter as you saw the vertical door shut. “Experimental Group one has completed their tests for today, we will resume tomorrow.” You heard one of the announcers say into the intercom as the guards outside your door start to walk away while talking with each other. You huffed out air as you turned your body and pressed your back against the cold wall. Your body sunk to the floor until you were sitting on the floor with your back against the wall. The lights around you outside your cell began turning off as they slowly reached your cell and the only light visible was the soft light in the corner of the room, barely able to light up the entire room. You sighed deeply before bringing your hand in front of your face, the metal of the cuffs clinging together. A small orange light began to emit from your fingertips as you moved them around slowly. You smiled to yourself, knowing that you were still able to use your powers, even if it was in the smallest amount. You were unsure about what your powers were and how to use them, all you knew is that one day you would use them to get out of this horrid place. 

The next day, you were awoken by a loud beep sound that came from the doors in the hallways. You heard multiple footsteps emerging from the corridor and some guards talking to either themselves or someone else. You thought you could have heard chains as someone was walking, causing your face to scrunch in confusion. You grunted softly as you pushed yourself to your feet and walked over to the door of your cell and brought your head up to look out of the glass. Your eyes widened slightly as you saw two more prisoners around your age walking in front of the two guards. You observed closely as you saw both of them heading to the cells on the left side of you. Before they entered their cells one of them, a girl with dark hair and tired eyes, had looked back directly at you causing your eyes to peer slightly at her. You heard the loud doors closing, indicating that they were both in their cells. You huffed out air as you turned your body and resumed to the spot where you were sitting on the wall. ‘I wonder what they are doing here’ you thought to yourself as you looked down at your hands. 

“I could ask you the same question.” You heard an accented voice asking you, almost as if it was a headset but no one was around you. The sudden voice caused you to jump as turn your head rapidly to look around your empty cell. “What the fuck.” You muttered to yourself as your heartbeat was still increasing. “Calm down, I’m talking to you through your mind.” The voice was inherently feminine with a strong accent to it. You breathed in deeply as you brought your hands back into your lap. “You’re the girl, the new prisoner they just brought into the cell next to me.” You muttered to yourself, still wondering if it was in your head or not. “My name is Wanda.” She said, she was sitting against her wall in her cell, almost parallel to you in your cell. “Y/N.” You said quietly. It  almost caused her to smile just being able to talk to someone for the first time in such a long time. 

“You’re different, aren’t you? Most people can’t respond when I talk to them.” Wanda said as she was moving around a box in her cell with her powers. “We’re prisoners of HYDRA, I think we’re different than most people.” You smirk slightly as you spoke. You could hear her stifling a chuckle under her breath as you spoke. Just the small conversation had caused a smile to appear on your face, it was nice to not be alone for the first time in forever. 

Almost two months had passed since Wanda, and now you know her brother Pietro, had joined you in the HYDRA outpost. Ever since they arrived, you and Wanda had become close. She was the person you could talk to without even moving from your cell, it was comforting having someone to talk to. Although the treatment has been worse than ever. Usually the guards are rough, but with the Maximoff's they were worse, and it made your blood boil. If looks could kill, all the guards in that room would be dead by now. 

“Maximoff!’ You heard one of the guards say, even just the sound of his voice made you clench your fist. You heard the door to her cell open and the sound of footsteps leading into her room. “You’re progress has been declining rapidly over the past few weeks, almost like you’ve been distracted by something.” The voice made your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow. Wanda looked up at the guard from sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. She didn’t respond to the guard, she just kept her head facing the floor. “Come here.” The words of the guard had you sprinting to your door, trying to look through the glass. Since the guard was already in Wanda’s cell, you couldn’t see them. You cursed to yourself as you violently hit the door with your fist. 

Wanda had hesitantly gotten up from the ground, the sound of her cuffs clinging together as she stood up. Slowly she walked over to the guard, her feet dragging along the ground as she did. Then, the guard violently grabbed Wanda by her neck, causing her to begin to choke as she gasped for air. You couldn’t see Wanda, but you could hear her suffering in your head and it made you snap. You stood in front of your door as you continuously began striking at the door with your bare fist. All you were feeling was rage coursing through your veins, and your blood was boiling. As you continued to hit the door, you started to feel an unusual feeling in your fingertips, almost like a tingling but more powerful. Then, you started to see the orange-yellow light begin to emit from your fist like once before, only this time it was brighter than before. 

As you brought your hand up into the air to strike once more, the irises of your eyes began to glow a bright yellow as your hand was emitting a powerful energy that was glowing yellow and orange. When you brought you hand down to impact with the door, an impulse of energy surged throughout the entire outpost and the door you were striking flew through the air and hit the other side of the wall with a loud clang noise. 

A loud alarm began blaring through the entire building as most of the guards looked up in confusion, Without even thinking about the power you had just unlocked, you turned and ran over to the cell next to your own. The guard in the room had turned his head in confusion as he let go of Wanda’s neck and she dropped to the ground, gasping for air. The guard had reached for his gun but you were already running towards him as you brought up your hand to strike him with a powerful burst of energy. His body flew and hit the back of the wall of the cell, leaving a large indent in the wall. The guard was knocked out cold, causing a bit of relief to flow through you. Even though you wanted to kill him right there, you knew Wanda’s safety was more important to you. “Wanda.” You pant as you turn to kneel down next to her on the ground as she kept a hand on her neck. You helped her stand up and to your surprise, she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you into a hug. You immediately reciprocate by wrapping your own arms around her and pulling her close to you. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She said as a few tears began to well up in her eyes. 

As much as you wanted to enjoy this moment, it was interrupted when more guards began to crowd around the entrance of the cell door with their guns drawn. Your eyes widened as you heard one of the guards yell, “Fire!”. Before the bullets could reach you, Wanda had picked up the bed in her cell with her powers and held it in front of the both of you as a shield. “We need a way out!” You yell over the sounds of bullets. “Pietro can get us out quickly!” She yelled back as you nodded to her. As Wanda backed up, you stood up in front of the bed and kicked it far enough so that it would hit a few of the guards. You ran out of her cell and made your way over to the two guards still standing. One of them you had hit with your powers so that he would go flying across the room. The other one you had elbowed him in the stomach and then kicked him across the room until he hit the wall. You panted heavily as you turned to see Wanda walking over to Pietro’s room. You walked up next to her and balled up your fist as the orange-yellow began emerging from your fist. You drew your hand back before punching the door, causing it to fly through the air and hit the wall of his cell. “Pietro!” Wanda said worriedly as she hugged her brother. “Time to go?” Pietro asked sarcastically, his accent showing strongly through his words. “Take Wanda first, you can come back for me.” You told Pietro as he nodded. Wanda looked up at you with confusion on her face but she didn’t have time to react before Pietro picked her up and ran out with her in the blink of an eye. Within a second, Pietro was back in front of you and he quickly swept his arms under your legs as he picked you up and quickly ran outside where Wanda was. 

As you stood back on the ground after Pietro had taken both of you out of the outpost, you realized that you were both standing in the middle of a snowy forest. “So, what now?” Pietro asked as he put his hands on his hips. “We just keep moving forward.” You tell them, your breath becoming visible in the cold air. You turned towards Wanda as she kept her arms in front of her chest. “Together.” You finish as she looks up at you with a genuine smile. You didn’t know where you were going or how you were going to get there, all you knew is that now you weren’t alone anymore and you wouldn’t let anyone hurt them again. 

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement ��� apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Three

Chapter two // Chapter four

“My head’s gonna explode,” Elide Lochan sighed before she drank two big gulps of water as if she had been thirsty for days. Aelin knew the feeling. She’d been working for two hours now but it felt like ten. The bar was so hot and the music so loud, she couldn’t wait to go home and come back to the silence of her room.

Today was her first day and of course, it was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week. The uniform, which was basically only a tight white shirt and a pair of black booty shorts, was one of the other reasons Aelin decided she hated this job but only stayed for the money. Aelin had been lucky today if you can call it that, but unfortunately, that luck didn’t extend to Elide.

Some douche-bags slapped her ass when she served him his drink, and of course, all his friends howled with laughter. As if sexual harassment was some kind of joke. The moment Elide mentioned this incident, Aelin had wanted to slam the guy's head on the table but Elide stopped her. The customer was always right and both Aelin and Elide needed this job too much.

They had decided not to tell their co-worker Manon about that, Aelin and Elide had already worked with her before and Aelin knew where Manon was, violence usually followed. It was something Aelin loved about that woman, and she also found it hot as hell. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a crush on the white-haired woman. But in Aelin’s defense, Elide did have a crush on her too. It was like a general experience.

“Do you think we’ll be fired if we don’t go back?” Aelin put her cold bottle of water against the back of her neck, in an attempt to cool her down.

“Definitely, Rofle is a dick. I mean have you seen this outfit?” The brunette turned on herself and gestured to the more than revealing clothes. Aelin agreed, if her cousin saw her in this outfit he would have a heart attack. She was suddenly glad this bar opened last week, at least Aedion didn’t know this place. Yet.

“Girls,” Nesryn interrupted them. “Break’s over. Go back to work.”

Aelin undid her ponytail, a forbidden hairstyle in this bar apparently, and went back behind the counter. She wore her best fake smile and ignored the lingering looks on her breast or her backside, winked and flirted back when clients thought they had a chance of taking her home with them. Aelin hid her disgust of these men pretty good, she was proud of herself for it.

She would quit if she wasn’t low on money lately. For hell’s sake, Aedion was paying half of her rent. It had been a very long discussion between them, Aelin would rather live on the street than depend on someone. Aelin got convinced when Aedion made it clear if she didn’t accept he would call her parents. So Aelin put her pride aside and accepted, at the only condition Aedion let her pay him back whenever she could. He had argued but accepted. The Ashryver family wasn’t very good at compromise, but at least they tried.

“Aelin, go take the order of table nine,” Manon yelled at her over the background noise. Aelin gave her a thumb up as she kept pouring alcohol in the shaker.

When Aelin was done making this cocktail she wiped her hands and walked toward table nine. She looked down to grab her little booklet and pen she left in one of the pockets of her apron as she said, “Hi, welcome to the sea dragon, what can I-” She stopped as she took in who was sitting in front of her. Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys, Connall Moonbeam, and of fucking course, gods-damned Rowan Whitethorn. She took a deep breath and smiled, but she knew her fake smile wasn’t as convincing as it was minutes before.

She focused on Fenrys and Connall, the only ones she could stand at that table. “What can I get you?”

Fenrys had an amused look on his face, accentuated by his smirk full of wickedness. “So this is your new job?” He asked, and if she didn’t know him the look could be considered genuine.

“You knew it, Fen. I told you hours ago.” Rowan’s head whipped to Fenrys, and Aelin’s face suddenly mirrored Fenrys’s. She didn’t know what the blonde had in mind, but if it annoyed Whitethorn, Aelin was on board. Rowan’s head turned back toward her and he narrowed his eyes. “Got something on my face, Whitethorn?” She couldn’t help it, she had to always argue with him.

“Yeah, all that make-up,” his eyes roamed over her body, it took everything in her not to move under the weight of his gaze. “What’s that outfit anyway?” His disdain was quite obvious.

“My uniform, dumbass.” She tightened her grip around her pen and notebook so much that her knuckles turned white. “Be careful, it almost sounds like you care.” It was one of the most sarcastic things she had ever said in her life, the look in his eyes was enough proof.

“Why would I care about you when you’re dressed like a stripper?” He crossed his arms and Aelin had to force herself not to stare at his muscles and at the tattoo on his arms. He was a handsome bastard and it made him quite hard to hate.

“So, no respect for sex workers, Whitethorn? Why am I not surprised?”

“No, actually I respect them a lot. You’re the only person I don’t respect.” It took everything in her not to punch him in the face right now, but that’s what he was waiting for. It was like he loved to see her lose control.

“I’m going to enjoy spitting in your drink.”

“Do that and I’ll have a nice chat with your boss, good luck to find another job, princess.” He was getting angry, Aelin loved that, it meant she was winning their little game.

“Feel free to do it, it just means you’ll have to share that splendid bathroom with me longer.” She winked at him and wiggled her brows. Rowan clenched his jaw, another sign of his anger.

“Can you two stop for a minute? I’m thirsty.” Lorcan Salvaterre interrupted them and Aelin rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Lorcan either, but instead of always arguing as she did with Rowan, they just ignored each other.

“Who are they?” Elide asked as Aelin prepared her roommates’ order. The four of them wanted a beer, classic.

“Two of them are the bane of my existence and the two others annoying but very pretty.”

“I want him in my bed,” Elide said as she bit her lip. Aelin whipped her head toward the guys, trying to know which one she was talking about.

“I have no idea which one you’re already planning to get naked but one of them is gay and the other three aren’t good options.”

“Great, I don’t want good and I don’t want to be good. And It’s the tall one.” Elide winked and left before Aelin could say anything. Of course, Elide would be attracted to Lorcan. Alein went back to their table, accidentally spilling a little bit of Rowan’s beer on him when she accidentally tripped. He swore at her but she decided to ignore it, instead, she pushed him so she could sit next to him to be right in front of Lorcan.

“You,” She pointed at Lorcan, with her smile full of mischief.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She shook his head and she heard the twins laugh.

“What’s your type of woman?”

“Everything you aren’t.”

“I’m gonna look past that insult because I am an amazing woman,” she was cut off by Rowan’s snort. “You shut up, you’re thirty and still single.” She looked back at Lorcan but heard Rowan correct her on his age. His highness was still twenty-nine for three months. “What about 5”2, brunette, very very scary. She’s also one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen, but unfortunately, she doesn’t have good taste. I’m not her type but you are.” She winked at him. Rowan muttered something that sounded a lot like “We aren’t teenagers anymore” but she ignored him.

Lorcan furrowed his brow, Aelin could see him hesitate. “Where?”

“Want to see her dance?” Aelin didn’t wait for the answer and walked back to the bar.

-

Rowan was mesmerized.

The moment Aelin Ashryver Galathynius started dancing was the moment he lost his mind.

He hated her for it, hated her for being the first thing anyone looked at when they entered a room. Hated her for being the most attractive woman he had seen in a while.

She had been raised to become this. Well, not to become a barmaid in a piss-poor bar in Doranelle. But to become the type of woman everyone looked at, everyone wanted.

With Evalin Ashryver as her mother, how could Aelin become something else? Her mother was an incredible actress, and one of the most famous ones. She was also known for being cunning, ambitious, and beautiful as a sin.

And with Rhoe Galathynius as her father, Aelin knew how to captivate an audience. Rhoe was a legend of football. Whenever he played, all eyes were on him. He was smart and as cunning as his wife, a perfect match if you listened to the papers. That’s probably why he was a coach now, and that’s also why his team almost always won.

So Aelin was born with amazing genes, a talent to bewitch everyone who looked at her, and a bank account bigger than anyone should have. That’s why he didn’t understand why she would be working here and living with five guys instead of just having a big apartment in the richest part of town. But Aedion had told everyone to never mention her parents, so they all listened. Everyone was careful to do just that, maybe because Lysandra had threatened to cut their favorite body part and to make them eat it if they ever mentioned Rhoe’s or Evalin’s name. All that the day they met her when she was one month away from turning eighteen.

Now this she-devil had him under her spell. He couldn’t stop looking at the way her hips moved perfectly on beat with the music, at the way her hands wandered over her stomach, the side of her breast, and then lifted her hair in the air. Or even at how close she was to her friend, the one who is apparently interested in Lorcan. Both of them were giving a show, and when Rowan finally looked away from the blonde it was to find almost every man with their eyes on her. She knew what she was doing, he knew she did. It made him want to yell at her, even at work she couldn’t help but want attention.

Aelin turned her head, and their eyes met. Rowan sat straighter, swallowing. Her sinful mouth turned into a smirk and she accentuated her hips’ movements, aware of Rowan’s eyes on her. It was also something they did, along with arguing. They caught the other checking the other out, but wouldn’t call them on it. They would never bring it up, it was like a secret between them. He shouldn’t find the idea of sharing something with her so exciting.

She never stopped looking at him as she danced, sometimes she would bit her lip, sometimes her hands would wander on her breasts. He had to stop himself from growling as his cock hardened. Aelin was a sin.

Who did she think she was? He hated her, he made that clear. She hated him, and she had also made that clear. Why did she feel the need to tease him? She was trying to mess with him, and it was working.

The bubble broke when one of Aelin’s coworkers interrupted her, telling her and her friend she was dancing with to go back to work. Rowan couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she walked back behind the counter. He would have felt bad for it, wasn’t it for the slight sway of her hips and the look she threw at him when she started serving people again.

“I want her.” Lorcan almost grunted, and against his best wishes and even if they weren’t talking about the same girl, Rowan agreed.

-

Aelin wasn’t tired, no, tired wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling. It was almost three in the morning and her shift ended in one hour, thank god she wasn’t supposed to close the bar today.

A customer asked for another sex on the beach, his fourth of the night. Aelin smiled as she prepared it but decided it would be his last of the night. Rofle didn’t want his barmaids to stop clients from drinking because more drinking means more money. But all the money in the world wasn’t worth the customers’ life. She would never forgive herself if someone had a car accident or became an alcoholic because of the drink she served. She gave the drink and took the man’s car keys, saying she would call a cab when he wanted to leave.

Aelin’s phone started ringing and when she saw who was calling her she sighed. If she was tired now it would be worse by the end of the night.

“Hello,” She answered as she got into a cupboard to find some quiet.

“Hi, you’re Aelin Galathynius?” A deep male voice asked. From the tone of his voice, the man must be as exhausted as Aelin was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Aelin already regretted picking up this gods damned phone.

“I’m sorry to bother you but a guy’s at my bar. He’s tall-”

“Yeah, I know exactly who it is. Let me guess, he is drunk and absolutely refuses to call a taxi because taxis are disgusting. He also told you to call me, didn’t he?”

“You got it all right.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “Where’s your bar?” She nodded when he told her the address and told him she would be here in half an hour.

Aelin went to Elide, apologized, and asked her to cover the rest of her shift. Elide understood, it wasn’t the first time Aelin had to leave for the same reason. Elide was pissed but not because she had more work, but because she didn’t want Aelin to go.

Aelin took her car and drove, maybe a little slower than she should but it was night. Roads were dangerous, especially on a Saturday night. Aelin parked right in front of the sidewalk. She took her phone and wanted to text Aedion to tell him she would be late but her phone was dead. Amazing.

Aelin walked into the bar and realized she didn’t take time to change clothes, she was still in her uniform. She crossed her arms, trying to cover her chest as best as she could. Even if she had liked to have Rowan Whitethorn watching her tonight, she didn’t want anyone else to look at her this way.

It didn’t take long to see who had called Aelin, she walked toward him, the bartender looked relieved someone would come to pick him up. “I’m gonna take that.” She told him, and he gave her the car keys. Aelin turned her head to grey eyes watching her body, of course, he would notice her lack of clothing. “Let’s get you home,” Aelin said, trying her best not to let her anger out, it’s not going to help tonight.

“Hello, darling,” Arobynn purred.

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @mx—spelled //

[semischarmed]

Detour, Part 4

Given your previous declaration of your intent to wear his skin, you release a bit of your hold over him to see his reaction. Scott, apparently unfazed, looks to the distance, no doubt planning an escape route. The guy isn’t stupid, so you try to make out his gameplan. You catch the briefest glimpse he takes of the patch of skin where the medallion used to be and you are immediately reminded of the moment of lost control of him in your possession of Alex. ‘Motherfucker. Of course he had a plan’. Despite the risk, you decide to proceed. Scott may have that bod, and his steel will, but that pales in comparison to the years of lust and envy brewing in you. ‘Fuck it, worse case scenario we accidentally give this egomaniac god-like power. What could go wrong? Might as well fuck with him a little’.

You mess with your body’s vocal cords to make sure both your old voice and Alex’s speak. With a unified moan you state “I can’t wait to take a Scottie joyride”. 

You say your part to Scott. “You know, even with how much of an asshole you were back then, I always masturbated , every night, to the fantasy of that thick horse dick ravaging me and shuddering inside my little body.” You chuckle. “Who could have known that in just a few short years, we could both be masturbating that thick horse dick together, to the reality of my little body shuddering inside you.”

Alex adds: “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like, moving around in that tower of muscle”. You lick your lips. “Besides, you have some pretty yoked friends, Scott. Well, since we’re gonna be parading your skin around, we have some pretty yoked friends. We can’t wait to use you, to use that thick horse dick of yours, to cum inside them, to inject them with a little Alex. But don’t worry, even when we get sick of wearing you, we’ll never really leave. We’re gonna fill you in so deep, you’ll never fully get us out. You’re gonna be our little Scottie fuck doll till the day you die.”

With Alex still in the driver’s seat, you walk toward your best friend. He makes you rub your chest a little. “The truth is, Scottie, he feels amazing inside me. I love him in here and I know he’s here to sta-ayy” Alex moans a little “God I love being his puppet. I can feel his strings all inside me, worming into me, slipping, writhing, controlling me.” The Alex-y you makes you show Scott your right hand for effect, which starts spasming unnaturally before you make a quick, veined fist. You chuckle at this attempt to scare him into submission but then begin to ponder if it would actually be possible to transform your entire body that way for the possession. You and Alex strip naked. You then start masturbating your shared body right in front of Scott, as he looks away in revulsion at the sight of his corrupted best friend furiously beating his meat. “Thank you for helping me find my soulmate Scott- well, my soul master. I can’t wait for my little strings to become your little strings” he pouts “Cmon Scott. You’re so cute when you’re angry.” “Hate me Scott! Hate your best friend! Hate the faggot from high school that’s inside him! I want you livid when we fill you up. I want you boiling. Your anger really gets me going. When we pilot you around, I’m gonna make you watch. I’m gonna make you watch the new faggot Scott, faggot you corrupting and controlling your own friends!“ When you finally release, you bring a little to your mouth for inspection.

“We taste even better than expected” you say, breathless, half moaning, “here try some.” you scoop up the rest and try to push it to Scott, who quickly turns to the side. It smears his cheek instead.

You lean your face right in front of Scott’s- till your foreheads touch- and run your Alex-y fingers gently through his sweaty hair. You take a deep inhale from you position. Subtle, musky, another scent you just can’t quite place, it’s altogether manly. He smells uniquely Scotty. You can’t wait till you also smell uniquely Scotty. You rest all of your sweaty naked body right on top of Scott, still facing him. He winces slightly at the additional weight.

“Get the fuck off me!”

Scott spits right at your face. You take a little taste. ”MMhmmmmmm, I cant wait to have all that running inside me, even your spit tastes good”. He grimaces in disgust. Using your power to mentally restrain his movements, you grab his neck and give it a squeeze to force his mouth open. You scoop the bit of the Alex cum on his cheek into his now gaping maw with your thumb. You corral the spit on your face earlier into your mouth and mix it with your own, which you spit back right at his mouth. “Here’s a little primer for what we’ll taste like when we become one” you say with a dirty wink. With your powers, you force him to swallow your new “together” potion. 

“You were always the grand prize“ you say, while you trace your fingers all over your soon-to-be body. “After I let you sell your friend out, did you really think I’d just leave you after that. This new me, Alex, he was just a little detour. How could I know he’d be this into it,” You run your fingers through your hair, “but, in the end, I have to thank you. We were important little detour because- [moan] he completes me” Alex delicately guides your fingers around Scott’s nipples. You tug on them to bring his sweaty chest to yours and in your dark embrace you whisper seductively in his ear “You’ll complete us too....” Scott shudders and you moan in fake disappointment, “you’re such a greedy little asshole, you know, you can’t keep all that man to yourself. We wanna have fun too. We can’t wait to get inside that Scottie party.”

With your newfound powers, you start liquefying parts of yourself, as scott watches in horror. You start with the arm- naked, pungent, sweaty skin become a noxious, sticky, amorphous mass. It’s a horrific sight, for sure, but it becomes even more horrific to Scott when you will your newly created slime to start moving. You make sure to give him a close up of the wriggling stringy fibers of yourself inside the goo.

At this point, Scott really starts panicking.

“Look man, I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have been such a piece of shit to you in High School. Please! Cmon! You already have Alex.” Son of a bitch! You knew it! Of course he still remembers you!

Caught and preoccupied in your transformation, Scott finds the power to push you off him several feet back. Adrenaline, no doubt, but the man is also pure muscle, so it’s no surprise. “Get the fuck off me! Don’t fucking go near me, you creep!”

“Oh Scott”, you moan his name in a mocking tone. “You are such a great friend. Give me a hug”. Slimy tendrils from your body shoot out force Scott back to your sweaty embrace. You shove your pits at his face. “Mmmmphh!” he shouts in disgust and nausea. You take another deep whiff of his sweaty chest and armpits. Intoxicatingly musky, and again, uniquely Scotty. “When I’m inside you, I’m gonna make you stinky like me” you laugh “we’re gonna smell great together. We’re gonna feel great together. And to your friends? We’re gonna taste great together,“ you exhale, as you lick your thick Alex-y lips and smile an out of place angelic smile.

“You’re never gonna fucking take me, asshole!” He shouts.

You ignore him as you continue your little monologue and start slithering in some of your fleshy mass into his mouth. “And don’t worry,” an unholy harmony of your old voice and Alex’s voice says, “We forgive you for high school. Well.... “. You now moan with a mix your old voice and some new borrowed Scott vocals that your parts have already claimed. “You’ll forgive you.” You now lodge his throat full of you as your liquid tendrils greedily rush down his throat. You want to give Scott the complete experience, so more of your slimy tendrils snake through his biceps and pits, around his vascular back and throat and start jamming straight into his asshole. He moans involuntarily as he feels your wriggling mass pass the g-spot into his prime real estate. As odd as it sounds coming out of him, he even sounds alpha when he moans. You make sure to keep this area stimulated, since you can no longer restrain his body mentally. To complete his Alex infestation, you start pumping his cock to loosen a passage for yourself and then feed more slime into his piss slit. This particular action causes his mouth to open even wider than before, which you use to stuff even more slime inside. 

Despite the raw pleasure he’s in and despite your mass still continually flowing into him, Scott stands and takes shaky steps toward the door. That iron will always did turn you on. You can’t wait to make it yours. You double your speed, and start writhing and twisting erratically as you continue to flow in. When it becomes clear that he is determined to continue, you start streaming into any entryway you can find. Every orifice, every hole in his body- even some small cuts he had on his arm- are flooded with your liquid. His towering form finally falls to the ground, unconscious from the effort he expended, while the last parts of you slip inside.

When Scott wakes, he immediately straightens up. He’s impossibly full, filled to the brim with you inside him, still squirming, slipping through his body parts rhythmically. A little dribbling of yourself spills out and oozes out of his mouth, but you quickly force it back inside him before he reach for it. He needs to take all of you. 

Your future face contorts into one of pain and struggle until it settles in into a scornful, hateful, contempt. ‘How much energy does this guy fucking have?’ you think in panic, as Scott roars and in one fell swoop, flexes all the thick muscles in his body to subjugate your mass. He still looks a little bloated, but the squirming inside him stops. He smirks as feels your powers flow through him. He investigates himself and the new control he has over body parts. He flexes his arms as he starts willing parts of his body to expand and constrict on command. Scott walks up to his mirror. “I told you you couldn’t fucking take me” he says with a smirk. If Alex was a sports car, sleek and smooth, Scott would be a fucking truck, and a massive one at that. The man exudes raw power so it’s no wonder you’re struggling reining him in. Before all hope is fully lost, you feel a spark in you.

“You’re right” Scott’s voice states, unprompted. The squirming and wriggling inside him starts up again and his eyes roll back. “It’s a good thing he took a little detour taking and corrupting my tight piece of ass,” Scott moans uncharacteristically. Scott’s beefy arms start fidgeting uncontrollably “because this...little Alex puppet is... gonna show his best friend how to be a little good meat-suit for his new m-master” he forces through Scott’s vocal cords. Scott’s whole body is now trembling uncontrollably. The writhing inside him has started up again, though this time far more energetic. It was coming from everywhere. He feels his fingers, his legs constrict and relax unnaturally. He screams as his body starts scratching himself everywhere erratically and convulsing, trying to get you out. But you’re in too deep. You’re in his veins, in his muscles, in every fiber of his being. Arms still twitching from the control Alex demands, Scott starts involuntarily pumping his meat. “FUUUUUuuuuCK!!!” he roars in his mix of ecstasy and struggle, before everything in him stops.

----------

Scott sits, unexpressive, motionless. Then, a bit of movement. The corners of his lips stretch slightly and upward into a deranged smile. You twist his nipples hard and do another uncharacteristic moan in amazement. Goddamn he’s sensitive. Raw ecstasy decorates his face- your face as you begin to explore the rest of you. You reward his body for yielding to you by finishing the job you started earlier and continue pumping his meat. You release in a maelstrom. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. In the midst of your orgasm, you feel your body puff and expand massively, impossibly, taut, as deep inside Scott you integrate the core of your being into him fully. You subjugate your new muscles and skin around yourself and force them to re-constrict around their new owner. Tighter. Tighter. You feel his muscles from inside him as you pull them ever tighter until the invisible barrier between you two tears and his hunky form coalesces into you. The Alex part of you forces Scott to smile through the process of his own takeover. “AAAARRRGGH!” Scott screams in one last shout of defiance as your insides and his finally become one. 

Your eyes go wide and start fluttering while you lick yourself clean. ‘mmmmmm fuck’ Of course it tastes fucking amazing, every piece of the new you is amazing. You flex your first of many trademark “he’s the shit-and he knows it-Scotty sneers,” this new face of yours exactly reflecting one you’ve seen a thousand times in high school torment. A face that Alex had never seen until now, on account of being his best friend. Finally, fully, Scott is yours. 

Then his vitality hits. Fuck. Pure power!! “MIIINE” You scream with your new vocal cords as you start punching the air with your power. You adopt a boxer’s stance and- left hook. Right hook. Fuck. With each strike you can feel your own force as this new body executes your every whim. “MIIIINE!” Raw testosterone, raw power. Goddamn. You rush over and start punching and slamming your new beefy hands on the floor maniacally, reveling in finally feeling what it must have felt like in high school from the other side. “MIIINE!” This new jock body is limitless. You run a sweaty hand on his dick, and unsurprisingly it hardens instantly on command. You furiously start masturbating again in a frenzy, if only to release some of his pent up power. “Mine.” As Scott, you have ascended. In Scott, you are a god. With this body, with this soul, you can do anything you fucking want.

You piece together an outfit out of the clothes strewn about the apartment: Alex’s dirty used underwear and his old shirt, which fit impossibly tight on you. Alex always did like to keep things a little tighter than they should be- well, he is you, so you do too and now Scott does as well. You slip your new vascular legs through Scott’s skinniest pair of jeans and your new beast arms through his leather jacket. You‘ve always fancied Alex-your scent so you want to make sure you imprint it into this Scott-bod you now have. Then again, people have pretty unique scents. With you inside Scott, you’re fairly certain this new Scott naturally emanates a noxious combination of both their scents. You don’t put any cologne or deodorant on- why would you ever try to diminish this proof of your dominance over their bodies. 

You check yourself in the mirror and give your nipples one delightful final little twist, your run your fingers through your hair, and give your new self one hell of a Scottie smile before you step out into the world, a new man henceforth.

-End Part 4- 

Whew, what a ride. Hope y’all had fun. Not really sure where else I could take this so this is the final part for now.

[firelxdykatara]

gods, ok, apparently i’m not done.

atla fandom? we need to have a chat.

(....ok that made me sound pretentious as fuck. and maybe i am, but this needs to be said, cause i’m getting....real, real tired of a Certain Corner of this fandom and as a result, this is gonna be a discourse-heavy post so feel free to scroll past if that’s not your bag. as always, my salt posts all carry the catch-all #salt for ts tag, which you’re free to blacklist/filter at your leisure. i’m Very Annoyed at the moment, which will probably come through in the following post, so just. yknow. be prepared for that. or ignore it, that’s perfectly valid too.)

under a cut bc i do care for my followers and their sanity i swear lmao

there’s a real serious issue in this fandom with not understanding what queer terminology actually means or implies, especially when applied to a fictional narrative.

i’m specifically talking about ‘coding’, here. (if i were in a more meme-y mood, i might have said ‘the atla fandom found out about the term “gay-coding” and haven’t shut up since’.)

to the people who say ‘zuko is gay-coded’, i have this to say: you keep using that word. i do not think it means what you think it means. because he isn’t. i’m sorry, but he’s not! and the fact that this is such a prevalent claim in this fandom is distressing, bc it says to me that none of y’all know what gay-coding is or when and how to apply it! please, i’m begging you, go and look up these terms and what they mean and when they should be used before actually trying to plug them into your critical analysis, because when you misuse them and then call other people delusional for disagreeing with you it casts a pall over the entire fandom and is, i think, the root of some of the worst toxicity this fandom has to offer.

and the thing is, there are cases where gay-coding would apply--for instance, a couple series that are famous for queerbaiting their audience by coding their main characters as being attracted to one another (sometimes even despite their openly stated sexualities) come to mind, but those shows bare no similarities at all to atla and how zuko was written and portrayed! (and it would be funny, if it weren’t so obnoxious and infuriatingly wide-spread throughout the fandom, because the only queer couple we actually seen on-screen in either show wasn’t even queer-coded in any respect, and they’re canonically bi! [yes, i’m shading korrasami, or more accurately i’m shading bryke for refusing to give ka the build-up and development they deserved].)

this absolutely isn’t to say that headcanoning zuko as gay is a bad thing or invalid in any respect. (although the tendency for zukka shippers to do this specifically to keep zuko away from katara and/or invalidate his canon relationship/attraction to girls is more than a little eyebrow raising. especially since sokka is usually allowed to be bi, bc fans have no problem letting sukka stay in the background bc it’s no real threat, while jetko shippers are happy to have both boys be bi. [possibly bc katara is less a threat to jetko bc jetkotara is every bit as valid as any single ship between the three, but zukka can’t exactly let katara join in, and if the potential exists for zuko to be attracted to her then canon giving them the far deeper emotional bond becomes a threat to zukka’s existence? idk for sure--you be the judge.]) i prefer to hc zuko as bi (and always have, long before the atla renaissance), bc i don’t think zuko being attracted to boys is outside the realm of possibility, and it isn’t a threat to my ship since zuko&katara had a deep and emotional bond in canon that is very easy to develop further into something that becomes explicitly romantic--but the headcanon itself isn’t really the problem (although what it’s often in service to can be).

it’s the strange insistence that this is the only way to read his character, bc he was coded that way and so anyone who doesn’t see it must be too straight to understand--and i really shouldn’t have to say why and how that is so incredibly fucking insulting. (the ‘hetero lenses’ comment wasn’t cute when it came from bryke six years ago, and the same sentiment being repackaged and delivered by zukka shippers ain’t cute now.)

calling zuko gay-coded not only demonstrates ignorance as to what the term actually means, and how to usefully apply it in critical analysis, but also validates the frankly bullshit insertion of institutionalized homophobia in the world of atla where it was neither needed, nor wanted, nor ever hinted at in canon. as a queer woman i’m still infuriated by one fucking comic panel shoving institutionalized and systemic homophobia into a world where it was entirely unnecessary (and doing this in the first installment of the franchise showcasing a queer relationship??? making korra and asami worried about ‘coming out’ when they could have just gone on to have cute adventures together and tell people ‘hey we’re dating’ and have everyone else be ‘that’s awesome =DDD’ [because it is, in fact, possible to just have a world without homophobia i promise!!!!!] double yikes, i’m still pissed at bryke about it), and i doubly hate that ‘zuko is gay coded’ has become so widespread that ‘ozai hates him bc he’s gay’ has become a staple in that part of the fandom.

not only does making zuko gay and implying (or outright stating) that ozai hated and abused him because of it completely undermine zuko’s character arc by making his abuse about his sexuality rather than ozai’s toxic pride and anger at seeing himself reflected in his ‘weak’ son, but it comes very close to outright stating that abuse and trauma are inherently gay experiences, and they aren’t!!! they really aren’t, i promise!!!

abuse and trauma narratives exist outside of ‘my dad hates me because i’m gay’. and, quite frankly, there are MORE THAN ENOUGH queer trauma narratives out in the world. we do not need to start trying to retroactively make them canon in a series where they didn’t exist! if you’re gay and see yourself in zuko and project your own experiences on him, that’s understandable and valid. that does not make zuko gay-coded. and honestly, the insistence that he is makes very little sense to me, because you’re essentially trying to give the show credit for work you put into interpreting the characters! why would you want to do that? why not own your own headcanons and take credit for them, rather than insisting they are canon and everyone else is wrong for not seeing them??? like, i’ve said before that i’ve always headcanoned zuko (and katara) as bi, and even support it with my interpretations of evidence from the show, but the difference between ‘i think zuko is bi’ and ‘zuko is definitely gay-coded’ is that i know that bi zuko is my interpretation of canon, and that it is work i’m putting into the show that wasn’t actually intended by the creators/writers, no matter how much sexual tension i read into the jetko swordfight.

and like, zuko’s character arc doesn’t actually parallel a queer one all that well to begin with. it’s easy enough to do the work and twist it sideways just enough to make the general points fit, but the fact is, zuko’s arc is not one of self-discovery. it’s not one of coming to understand something fundamental about himself that he can’t change, that he was hated for, and coming out to his father in a dramatic confrontation where he shows that he understands himself and doesn’t need his father’s acceptance to be fulfilled.

zuko’s arc is actually one of trauma and healing. and those can (and often are--like i said, there are more than enough queer trauma narratives in the world, atla really doesn’t need to be one of them) be part of queer narratives, for sure! but they aren’t uniquely queer. and zuko’s confrontation with ozai during the eclipse doesn’t read like a ‘coming out’ at all. (yes, i’ve seen that post. yes, i rolled my eyes and moved on, bc unlike some people, i’m capable of not clowning on correctly tagged posts i disagree with.) zuko is specifically confronting ozai over his abuse, because his arc wasn’t about discovering anything fundamental about himself (and therefore realizing that ozai was hating him for something he couldn’t change)--it was about realizing that he was not at fault for the way his father treated him. it was also about realizing that the fire nation was broken and corrupt at its core, and that his father was an aspect of that he needed to break away from so that he could help the world begin to heal.

he says it himself:

Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own! Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.

making this about zuko being gay and rejecting ozai’s homophobia, rather than zuko learning fundamental truths about the world and about his home and about how there was something deeply wrong with his nation that needed to be fixed in order for the world to heal (and, no, ‘homophobia’ is not the answer to ‘what is wrong with the fire nation’, i’m still fucking pissed at bryke about that), misses the entire point of his character arc. this is the culmination of zuko realizing that he should never have had to earn his father’s love, because that should have been unconditional from the start. this is zuko realizing that he was not at fault for his father’s abuse--that speaking out of turn in a war meeting in no way justified fighting a duel with a child.

is that first realization (that a parent’s love should be unconditional, and if it isn’t, then that is the parent’s fault and not the child’s) something that queer kids in homophobic households/families can relate to? of course it is. but it’s also something that every other abused kid, straight kids and even queer kids who were abused for other reasons before they even knew they were anything other than cishet, can relate to as well. in that respect, it is not a uniquely queer experience, nor is it a uniquely queer story, and zuko not being attracted to girls (which is what a lot of it seems to boil down to, at the end of the day--cutting down zuko’s potential ships so that only zukka and a few far more niche ships are left standing) is not necessary to his character arc. nor does it particularly make sense.

(and before anyone brings up his date with jin--a) he enjoyed it when she kissed him, and b) he was a traumatized, abused child going out on a first date. of course he was fucking awkward. have you ever met a teenage boy????)

anyway, uh, that was a lot of words, so have a tl;dr: zuko is not gay-coded. there is nothing uniquely gay (or even uniquely queer) about his character arc or characterization, and he was certainly not coded gay in an attempt to sneak a queer character past the censors. if anyone involved with atla was gonna try that, it would’ve been in lok, and as established, they didn’t even manage to queer-code the actual queer relationship before the last few minutes of the final episode. headcanoning zuko as gay is absolutely fine (though if it’s only done to keep him away from female characters he may otherwise be attracted to, that smells more like misogyny than anything else), but insisting that this reading is the only one that makes sense, and anyone who doesn’t agree must be straight (hello, queer woman here making this insanely long thinkpiece) is very much not.

ship what you like, but stop trying to invalidate other ships and other interpretations of characters just to make your ship seem more plausible. it’s really not a good look.

[raspberry-arev]

After the Flood (a.k.a. bicci fic)

Hello friends! Some of you may remember that back in... er, who knows, I was writing a Bicci Proposal Fanfic. However, school and lack of motivation got in the way, and essentially, I forgot it existed. Until now. It's done, it's ready, it's here for you to read in whole! (I posted half of it before, but I can't find the thing.)

Characters: Jimmy Kaga-Ricci, Lister Bird, Rowan Omondi, OC (Abby Omondi), Angel Rahimi

Themes: older Ark, marriage proposal, coming out, grand gestures, The Ark Revival Tour, and peak Bicci romance (hopefully)

TWs: mentions of recovery from addiction, anxiety, food

Word count: 9k

JIMMY

It’s often impossible to pinpoint what exactly set off an event – or perhaps multiple – that changed your life as you knew it.

That was not Jimmy’s case, however. He remembered that Barbecue Saturday very well.

This time, it was Rowan and his spouse Abby who hosted. The two couples took turns and Jimmy was oh so grateful for it; the idea of managing Lister’s chaotic culinary experiments more than twice in one summer filled him with dread.

On Saturday morning, Jimmy and Lister packed up and drove all the way to the suburbs of London where Rowan and Abby lived. The sun was bright, everything gleamed buttery yellow, and Jimmy managed to talk Abby into letting him set the table and carry in all the food instead of her, which was quite an accomplishment. She was about as stubborn as her husband.

They rarely invited more than three extra people though. Being in the public eye in your formative years made you appreciate small gatherings of trustworthy people. And one of those proved to be Angel. Or, you know, Feresteh, but her nickname really stuck with them. From that time Jimmy nearly quit the band and Lister impaled himself and almost drowned in mud… yeah, call that a wild youth.

Over ten years later, they were hardly the same people.

After they decided to quit being The Ark for their own wellbeing and safety, Rowan kept his place in the music industry as a songwriter, producer and a solo artist. He went with the name Le Monde, a play on his surname as well as French for “the world”. It suited him. He was the world, never small, never just one thing.

Lister stopped being involved in music after a few collabs. While he was figuring out what to do next, he took a few modelling jobs, acted in music videos and got a small part in a sitcom. Jimmy used that time to get a college degree, but found he just wouldn’t be able to get the usual “college experience” he yearned for, and only got his diploma after doing classes long-distance.

Jimmy and Lister also got together. After many failed attempts at courtship and pretending being friends with benefits was enough… they got together. To Jimmy, it felt like it was inevitable; they have acted like partners long before it was official, they just needed to clean up their own messes before they could be a couple. It wouldn’t have felt right back then, but it did now.

Rowan was already at the grill preparing meat and wrapping camembert in shiny aluminium foil when Angel marched in, tall, elegant, beaming. Jimmy loved to see her again. Each time, she seemed a little more confident, more expressive, more… just more. She really did find her calling in the music industry, just as much as he found his tucked away in rural England with his boyfriend.

Yet, he was to be “tucked away” no longer.

At a certain point, their group fell momentarily silent; everyone was chewing their meal and soaking in the sun. Then Angel said, in an unfamiliar, cautious tone: “You see, I was talking to a couple of people…”

Rowan exchanged a quick look with Jimmy. “Go on,” he said.

“It’s gonna be ten years since you guys disbanded, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy echoed.

“So. I was thinking. Hear me out, even if you think it’s bollocks…” Angel shot them a look, and then made a motion with her hand as if she was presenting them with something. “Have you ever thought of doing a revival concert?”

As Rowan did a theatrical “errrm”, Jimmy saw straight through his best friend’s bullshit: the two of them rehearsed this conversation. He knew Ro for most of his life, who did he think he was fooling?

His mind offered the answer quickly: Abby, perhaps. He wants to see how she would react, doesn’t he? Rowan would love to do a revival show like that, no doubt, but he valued his wife’s opinion too much to make a decision without her.

He felt movement on his left, and looked Lister in the eyes.

“Well,” said Lister, looking at him. “Wow, okay,” said Jimmy. Both were considering.

Angel swiftly picked up, “Just wanted to run this idea by you. Not because it’s me who would love to see you play once more – I mean, of course I would – but it’s expected to have an amazing turn-out.”

“Obviously, they’re The Ark,” Abby commented matter-of-factly.

“You’re right, Abby. So, guys? How are we feeling about this?”

It was bizzare. Normally, Jimmy would have expected to say he wasn’t at all interested – the boyband life was not for him anymore, tough luck – but recently, he felt a strong sense of nostalgia surge through him as the ten year mark got closer. He found himself reaching for his old guitar way more often, strumming at it, looking for something between the strings he could not reach.

Maybe he could do it just once.

What eventually came out of his mouth was… “I haven’t sung like that for a long time though.”

“You sing to me,” Lister contradicted him, his fingers intertwining with his. “All the time.”

Jimmy felt his face get hotter. “That’s hardly… Are you thousands of people?” He turned to Angel. “How many are we talking, anyway?”

She smiled a kind smile. “I don’t know, Jimmy, that depends on whether you three are up to it or not.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Personally speaking, I think I wouldn’t mind, as long as we are just doing it once, and not trying for a comeback. I wouldn’t go there.”

“Same,” Lister nodded. “I love you guys, but I’m fine the way things are.”

“Right,” said Rowan firmly. “But… just this once, I mean, why not? We could use some extra money.” With this, he gently let his palm rest on Abby’s belly that swelled under her summer dress like a balloon. (Jimmy fought the urge to aww at them.)

Abby immediately assured him they were more than fine financially, but Rowan barely listened, clearly waiting for his former bandmates to say something. Jimmy felt Lister looking at him, unwavering. So he turned to him and asked, “What do you think? Cool or not?”

“I’m waiting for you to say.”

“Why?”

“Don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

“You shouldn’t… Just say what your opinion is!”

“You express your opinion,” Lister retorted, pretending to square his shoulders as a threat. Jimmy lovingly nudged him, and to stop being annoying to the remaining three people at the table, he shrugged, “It doesn’t sound so bad. One concert. I mean, we are still friends after all this time, so why not?”

“In that case, I would love to be the centre of attention again!” Lister exclaimed and gave Jimmy a boyish grin. “The crowd was deprived of my looks for too long.”

“Buddy, you were the drummer,” Rowan said. “Bold of you to assume anyone even looked at you with me and Jimmy jumping at the front.”

Jimmy snorted with laughter, but Lister was quick to defend himself. “Google all Lister Bird slash Reader fanfic and then we can talk about who got noticed, buddy.”

“Oi, you’re not even properly revived yet, stop fighting!” Angel called out, but laughter started bubbling from every direction before she even finished the sentence.

They had a proper business meeting about it in two weeks. And then another and another. When they announced the first date, the sales went through the roof. Jimmy had to get off of social media because the internet exploded with their names and faces. But he sort of found it a bit sweet, that so many people stuck around for them, like old friends that he never had the chance to talk to. One concert became three and then five, which was, honestly, more like a small tour at that point. Jimmy fought to call it After the Flood and won.

LISTER

“You really shouldn’t do that, you know. This bitch is hard to get rid of.”

Rowan tried to hide a small cough and put out his cigarette on the metal window sill next to him. “Hey,” he greeted Lister. “Didn’t expect you to come out here.”

“Yeah.” Lister found it hard to hang around smokers, and unfortunately, he met quite the number of them while they were in the process of rehearsing. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“What’s up?”

“Can we walk, like, over there? So… nobody can hear us through the door?”

Rowan eyed him suspiciously, but he followed him to the railing on the edge of the roof. There, he turned to him, seeming to fight himself.

“I’m really looking for a less shitty way to ask this,” he admitted eventually. “But… What have you done now, Lister?”

Lister felt a sort of numbed cramp seize his stomach for a second. It took a lot not to let anger overcome him. They were well over thirty, how the hell was Rowan still treating him like a fuck up? But no. This was more important than old grudges.

“Nothing! As of yet,” he assured his bandmate.

“Okay…?”

“Right. So. Erm. Nobody is here, right? Fine. I had this idea… you know, Jimmy and I have been together for a long time and I obviously care about him a lot, I always have, you kind of know that…”

“Yes, go on,” he pushed on gently.

“Fuck it. I want to fucking propose!”

A giant weight fell off his shoulders when he spoke those words aloud. It was like coming out all over again, god.

Rowan’s eyes twinkled. “Oooh,” he almost whispered, “and you need my help with that? I’m your man, tell me the plan!”

“There is none right now.”

“Oh, okay. I can still help if you want.”

This was another part Lister dreaded discussing.

“I… okay, so, I was thinking of… doing it on stage?”

His friend’s face changed rapidly.

Lister’s dream of a grand proposal to the love of his life in brilliant stage lights and the roars of the audience faded away. “That’s a no? That’s a no. Shit, forget it then.” He felt sick.

“Lister, I’m absolutely positive you mean well,” Rowan started. “But Jimmy would-“

Speak of the devil.

The door opened and out of it peaked Jimmy’s unshaven face. “Oh! There you both are.”

Rowan froze for a second. Lister was ready to improvise. “Alright, so how about I come by yours after practice and you transfer the files to me?” He smiled, but impaled Rowan with a meaningful look.

Fortunately, he caught on. “Oh yeah, yeah, that could work.”

“What files?” Jimmy inquired as he joined them, oblivious.

“Rowan has some of our old drafts still saved. I was thinking of squeezing in a drum solo somewhere, maybe with spoken word over it?”

“Sounds cool,” Jimmy smiled at him and slightly brushed the back of his hand with Lister’s. “Anyway, Dick the Sound Guy wants us all in there immediately.”

“Stop calling him that or I’ll have a Freudian slip at some point,” Lister laughed and guided Jimmy back into the building. Him and Rowan managed to exchange a subtle nod over the shorter man’s head.

JIMMY

As they were packing up that day, Jimmy tried incredibly hard to catch Rowan alone. Just like the old times when he needed to discuss something personal. And yet again, it involved Lister. Jimmy felt young and stupid again, but not really in a good way.

Finally, he managed to stop him while he was putting away the equipment. Lister was meanwhile in the office of their temporary new manager. “Ro, I need advice!” he whispered to his best friend.

“What about?”

“It’s Lister.”

“Oh dear Jesus, I’m having flashbacks.”

“Don’t be a dick, it’s important.”

“Okay then, tell me.”

“It kind of involves you too. Just… tell me if it’s a good idea.”

“Go on!”

“I want to, uh… I want to tell people Lister and I are a couple…” He took a breath. “Which means I would be coming out as gay as well, probably. I know that’s, like, a huge pile of drama, so if you don’t want me to complicate the tour, just say it, it’s honestly kind of irresponsible when I’m thinking about it now…”

“Jimbob. Easy.” Rowan waited for a second for Jimmy to wind down, leaning on a stack of five chairs, and then asked, “Are you really sure about it? Do you want people to know?”

Jimmy felt his thoughts humming in his head. He forced himself to say exactly how he felt.

“I know it’s gonna sound super dramatic, but I don’t want to die not saying it,” he explained slowly. “It became really important to me… I don’t know when. But it did. Talking about this part of me, too. I’m just worried about what Lister might say.”

“So I take it that you didn’t discuss this?”

“No way. I don’t even know how to start!” Jimmy exploded in loud whispering. “I should have talked to him a long time ago, but I just didn’t have the balls.”

“I get that, but… just bring it up. Like, theoretically. What if. I think he’s going to support you through it.”

“How could he?”

“What are you even saying at this point?

“You think he would like people sticking their nose in our personal business? I feel like it’s so unfair to him and his privacy… And I feel terrible about still wanting to do it… even though it’s inconsiderate. It’s all a fucking mess.”

“Okay, okay.” Rowan massaged his nose. He looked like he was trying incredibly hard not to snap at Jimmy and be at least somewhat encouraging. “Look, no spoilers, but I am going to say this. Lister absolutely will notbe mad and he will want to talk about the two of you if you give him the chance. That is all.”

“Wait, what? Ro, did he tell you something?”

“I am not talking!”

“Is that how you treat your best friend in a life crisis?!”

“You’re putting me in a life crisis, don’t you dare play the pity card! I swear, the two of you are a nightmare.”

“Rowan! Come back!”

LISTER

His visit to Rowan’s place was very brief, but it was enough for him to understand Rowan’s concerns. Eventually.

Lister explained that it didn’t feel appropriate for him to just whip out a ring in a restaurant: Jimmy was his love, his dream boy, as cliché as it sounded, and he wanted to do something that would measure up to all he was feeling. Which was… well, a whole lot. Like a “get down on one knee in front of thousands of people” lot.

And yet.

“It’s all great, and I’m sure there are people in the world that would love it, but we are talking about Jimmy.”

“Come on. I know, he’s private about… well, everything, but…”

“That, yes,” Rowan pointed at him while holding a can of coke, “but don’t you think this proposal on stage would be an anxiety-inducing situation? Because to me, that sounds like a lot of pressure and nerves.”

“He hasn’t had attacks since we moved and he went on those meds.”

“That doesn’t really –“

“Matter. Yeah. Yeah, I get your point, mate, he would die of shock. And everybody watching him. Fuck, I’m stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Rowan grinned. “The two of you are just different… in some aspects. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Will I? Lister asked himself as he was driving back to the hotel that Jimmy and him were staying at for the time being. This was the only thing I came up with, like, ever.

When he swept his key card over the sensor and the door to their suite opened, he was greeted by the smell of dinner. He took a look into their little kitchen and found his boyfriend sitting at the table with his laptop. He didn’t notice him for a second, so Lister came up behind him and hugged him tightly.

Jimmy yelped.

“Where’s the food?!” Lister shook him a little, imitating Batman.

“Your hands are so cold!” Jimmy protested, but there was a trace of laughter in his voice. “On the stove, you bully!”

Lister almost flew over there, looking under the lid on the pot.

“Pasta,” Jimmy shrugged. “I needed my comfort food, so that’s that for you.” Lister smiled and thanked him, because yes, he was starving. Pasta was Jimmy’s go-to meal to cook, as it was quick to make and he was a pasta-sauce prodigy.

While his dinner was heating up in the microwave, Jimmy made small-talk about the supposed unused lyrics Rowan and him exchanged. Lister found it hard to lie to him, so he just turned to playful teasing, telling Jimmy to stop sniffing around, he’ll hear it when the time comes.

“Oh come on,” Jimmy huffed. “I’m just asking! And it’s my show, too. Spill it.”

“Sorry. Totally gonna steal your spotlight.”

“Lister, just tell me what it is.”

“A song.”

“What song?”

“A song that you have to wait for.”

“Babe, what song?!”

Lister took him by the waist and pulled him against his body. “Are you trying to ‘babe’ me into telling you right now? Is that what’s happening? Right in front of my pasta?” He went in for a kiss, and Jimmy tried to murmur something against his lips… but then he gave up. They leaned into each other and kept kissing until Lister pulled away to open the microwave. He got himself a fork and went to sit down after the long day, but Jimmy stayed there, right next to the sink. Looking a bit like he was going to hurl.

Before Lister could ask if he’s okay, Jimmy sat down on the other chair with a determined look on his face.

“There is something I need to discuss!” he blurted out.

Lister cautiously dropped the fork back into the bowl. “Okay…? And it’s something to do with me, yeah?”

“Yep. A lot to do with you.” He was visibly nervous. He clasped his hands together, as if Lister would have not noticed. “I… I was thinking about this one thing, and I need your opinion about it.”

“Cool. Go for it.”

“It’s about our relationship.”

“Are you aware you sound very sinister right now?”

He wildly shook his hands as if he wanted to dry them off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to,” he apologized in a strained voice. Then he cleared his throat, sharply lifted his eyes towards Lister’s and exclaimed, “I would like to reveal that we’re together.”

Lister felt everything about his face go lax in shock. He opened his eyes round and wide, his mouth followed, and Jimmy looked like he would faint.

“I, er. I just. I thought about it and I think it’s a decent idea and – please say something, Lister, before I get a fucking heart attack right now.”

It must have been so hard for him to speak up. Lister thought of his proposal plans and felt his mouth slowly form a smile. “I think it’s… brilliant! Yes, I would really like to do that!”

“Wait, really?”

“This is – I didn’t think you would want to, when did you change your mind?”

Jimmy shrugged, grinning in a sheepish way that made him look much younger. And cuter. “I thought I just… wanted to be open about this part of my life. Figured it’s time to say we are together. But if you, like, don’t feel like it, then…”

Lister beamed. “I feel like it. If you do, I do, trust me.” He walked around the table and lifted Jimmy into a hug. He laughed, relieved.

This was when it dawned on Lister… it was not such an easy matter. Exciting, yes, but it would gather all kinds of attention. He leaned onto the table, grabbed his dinner and him and Jimmy started talking about the situation it would put them in. If both are truly okay with it, how much would they reveal, when is the best time to do it. They kept talking through the bathroom door and while they were changing into pajamas in their bedroom.

As they were laying down and Lister gestured Jimmy to crawl into his arms, they became quieter. “You know why I also want to say it?” Jimmy mumbled, lying on the soft linen with one eye open.

“I’m all ears.”

“If I have to see one more article about which model or actress you’re screwing, I’m gonna lose the remaining marbles that I have.” Lister started chuckling as Jimmy awkwardly added, “Which is, admittedly, not many. Most have been lost in my youth.”

“Oh no,” Lister laughed and turned Jimmy’s face upwards to his. “So this just in: my boyfriend is possessive. Fancy that.”

“I’m not, it’s… I am… Oh, you hated Jowan, stop being smug.”

“I know I did, we both know. But jealous Jimmy? That’s a rare sight.”

“It’s just super uncomfortable. It’s all women, as well.”

“Heteronormativity is a bitch,” Lister nodded. He snuggled closer and let out a breath, “Don’t worry though. I am exclusively your problem.”

Jimmy kissed him, smiling. Lister felt lightheaded. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Jimmy’s. He loved this – he loved how much he felt for him after so long they have been together. It never ceased or faded away… because it was Jimmy.

Lister was pretty sure he would love him until his last day on Earth.

It was time to start looking for a ring.

JIMMY

Not much later, they had a team meeting scheduled with all the important people at their recording company that were involved with their tour. Jimmy and Lister announced their intention to come out during the tour, and with Rowan’s full support, it wasn’t too hard to win the producers over. Jimmy had anticipated the PR people would deem it overly risky to their image, but they were fairly chill. As Rowan had put it, “As if anything about The Ark was ever about pandering to conservatives.”

They agreed that their demographic is absolutely different, and before they knew it, they were being ignored while people were exchanging speculations about how it all could help them promote the tour.

“If they do it on, like, the second show…”

“…we could sell some extra tickets after… another wave…”

“…that would probably be a good time to release a single, something related to…”

Jimmy felt something in his chest sink. This is why they left. These people took something good, something from their hearts and souls, and wanted to turn it into money. Some part of him understood, that’s how business works, but mostly, he just felt really sad for them.

“Oi!” Lister exploded over the chatter. “Sorry, but we are still here, and – Could you maybe not act like this coming out is a marketing tactic?!”

The room went briefly silent.

Jimmy squeezed his hand under the table to say a silent thanks. Then he choked out, “That’s not why we’re doing it!”

Their producer looked at them over the top of her reading glasses.

“Of course it’s not, love,” she cooed. “But to say it bluntly, I think you need all the help you can get.”

After many weeks and many briefings, they had agreed on making the announcement on the third show. Right in the middle of tour. Everybody was nervous, expectant, but there was this air of hopefulness when Jimmy and Lister ended up alone together. The glimmer in his partner’s eye when their eyes met promised something… no, it was not living absolutely openly, they still wanted privacy. But it felt like they were sealing something.

This was not an easy coming out.

But they were in for it. Together.

LISTER

“Just so I know,” Rowan said as Lister was trying to take off his Doc Martens with all his might, “what did you tell Jimmy this time?”

“We’re still working on music.”

“We should really make something then, before you go. I am not gonna lie to my childhood best friend, y’know.”

Finally, the boot came off, and Lister got off the little cabinet in Rowan’s hall. Abby was already making tea, and when she saw him walk by the kitchen door, she just nodded at him. Lister smirked at her; she loved pretending to still be mad at him for taking Rowan to a strip club on his stag night. (Or was it dancing on the table at the wedding reception? Anyhow.)

Rowan sat him down in the lounge and started the conversation with: “So. The big reveal is getting closer. How are we feeling?”

“I – great, good. I’m fine, and Jimmy seems to be fine, so yeah, we’re fine.”

“But I assume that’s not what you need help with?”

“You assume right. I will need you to bear with me, though.”

“That sounds interesting,” Rowan retorted and flashed a smile at Abby who was bringing them two steaming mugs of earl gray. “And when I say interesting I mean impending doom, why thank you, Abby!”

“No problem.” She slowly leaned over, careful not to lose balance with her belly, and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll be off for my swimming class then. You two behave, will you.”

As she was making her way to the hall, Lister jokingly remarked, “No goodbye kiss for me?”

She stopped in the middle of the room and exchanged a glance with Rowan. Rowan, stirring his tea with a teaspoon, said, “Please don’t kill him, I need him for the concert.”

“Come on, you guys, I was fully kidding. Goodbye, Abby,” he waved to her with a bright smile. “Enjoy your swimming stuff!”

“Thank you, will do.” She disappeared.

“Just a question!” he called after her. She came back with an eyeroll. “Is it, like, harder to swim when you are pregnant? Like, I don’t mean to insult you or anything, I’m just genuinely wondering.”

She, too, put aside her snarky façade for a second. “Actually, I go there because it’s relieving. The water makes you float, so the weight of the baby is taken off my back and legs for a little while.”

“Oh! That’s clever.”

“Thank you. The more you know, am I right?”

“You know what I was just thinking of?”

“Yeah? I really have to go.”

“When you’re swimming, you’re a human submarine for the baby.”

It seemed to take Abby a minute to realize what he was saying. Very slowly, she brought her palm to her forehead.

Rowan then didn’t make it much better by adding, “Since when does a submarine have water inside? That would defeat the purpose.”

Lister thought about it and then gasped. “So… right now, you are a reverse human submarine!”

Abby looked at them both, clearly lost for words. “I’ll just go…” She closed the lounge door behind her.

After a good ten minutes of Rowan half laughing and half chastising Lister for saying the things he says, Lister threw his hands up in the air and claimed they seem to have “traded their sense of humour for a marriage certificate” two years ago.

Rowan immediately followed: “Speaking of marriage, any updates on that? You and…?”

“Well, my friend, that is precisely what we need to talk about today.”

“Okay. The meeting is officially in session, go.”

“First: am I the only one that was really surprised by Jimmy wanting to make us public? Because I really didn’t expect that at all.”

“Yeah, I guess he’s still full of surprises, huh?”

“That he is. However, Ro, I was thinking, and I still want to do a proposal. No – let me finish, it’s not that straightforward. I spent a lot of time talking to Jimmy about what he wants and how he sees the future, and you were super right in saying that I should never put him on the spot like that. Being so exposed to the public when we were kids messed with us in a big way, all of us.”

Rowan snapped his fingers in agreement.

“The idea is… It would be a proposal before a proposal. Like… I don’t know, announcing that I have the intention of proposing to him soon. And asking him if he is okay with that, you know? If he’s okay with the idea of saying yes. That way,” Lister gesticulated with his hands, “he’s not forced right there to say yes, the eventual real proposal can be sort of expected, which would calm him down a bit, but still a surprise, because when is it going to happen? I’m not saying.”

Rowan stared at him for about three seconds. “That was… a whole thing, buddy.”

“Thoughts?”

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Wait. You want to do a proposal before the actual proposal.”

“Yes.”

“On stage. At the same time you are announcing that the two of you are together?”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I thought like, more at the end, maybe.”

“Proposal before a proposal…”

“It’s clever, if you think about it.”

“To me, it just seems very extra, Lister. Which I know is your trademark, but –”

“No, but listen. I want to propose to Jimmy. He wouldn’t survive a big flashy proposal, but I still want to make it a big deal, because it is. Ergo, I announce that I want to spend the rest of my stupid little life with him and ask him if it is okay to propose to him one day, likely soon.”

Rowan’ expression changed. “That does make sense,” he said. “For the two of you, especially.”

“Okay then: dear dad, do I have your blessing?”

“Never call me that again. But yes.”

“You are the closest to being a father out of all of us.”

“That is not what it sounds like and you know it.”

JIMMY

The first show was an explosion of feeling and memories. Nauseous with anxiety, burdened with expectation and weak in the knees, Jimmy ran into his first appearance on the stage the same way he would run into the middle of the highway. The lights and screams and colours almost blew him to pieces and then glued him back together. His first words addressed to the crowd and the earth-shattering screams that came in answer woke something in him, a force of nature. The gig was rather small compared to those they ended on ten years ago, but the crowd loved them to pieces and oh, he felt so alive.

The second show was slightly bigger, yes, and their fans didn’t disappoint. Plenty of pride flags were chucked at him, and he waved them and gave them to his mates and it made him even more excited about what him and Lister were going to do the next time round. These people stayed with them for so long, this sea of faces that looked toward him… for many of them, he would be the representation they need, again.

He remembered being a young trans boy, questioning if there is a life, a future, for him. Where were all the queer adults? The trans adults? How could he imagine adult life if he had never seen someone like him live it?

There he was, now. Adult. Gay. Transgender. A lot of time, he still knew very little about what he was doing, but he had a boyfriend who knew equally little, and together, they might be just what some queer kid in the crowd yearns to see.

LISTER

It was D-Day. Christ and Mary, it was, and they were going to say it. Finally. The staff have been informed, the security has been strengthened, they did everything so that some fan wouldn’t try and knock them the fuck out…, but he was still incredibly nervous. Minutes before the show, among all the rush and flourish, he caught Jimmy and pulled him to the side, apologizing to a couple of sound guys securing some cables on the ground.

“How are you doing?” he blurted out.

“I’ll die, but maybe in a good way. You?”

“Same. Or I’ll throw up, in a bad way.”

“Wait really?”

“No, I’m sick, but not the vomiting kind.”

“Anxiety! Welcome to the club!” Jimmy shouted as he was being ushered away under the stage so he could come up on a platform.

More pushing, more ushering, and he stood next to Rowan.

Their intro – a dramatic organ solo as light flashed through the artificial fog like sunbeams – was rumbling all around them. The crowd was losing their minds. He didn’t know how, but he still heard Rowan whisper:

“Lister, promise me you won’t do the other thing today!”

“Told you I won’t, stop being patronizing!” he snapped back, but then it was their time, and they were on a stage, coming up from behind Jimmy, each on every side, acting astonished as they supposedly came down from Noah’s Ark onto new land.

Listed dared to put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder as they did so.

The show was on.

Here we go.

JIMMY

During the concert, he used every opportunity to interact with the audience that he had. It felt a bit manipulative at first – he wanted them to be up for a bit of talking, eventually – but then the feeling of guilt faded away. However complicated his relationship with the fans used to be, these people were the fans. They stayed loyal to them, they kept their music in their hearts, and came to this revival gig…

It would be okay, okay, okay.

When the last accords of the last song whizzed away into the night and he was thanking the crowd that stomped and cheered and waved signs in hope of an encore… he stopped at the front of the stage. Rowan strummed a few last cords on the guitar and fell silent.

He wished he had somewhere to sit down. His legs were shaking.

But he was not afraid. Not really.

“Now, you guys, these shows are very special for us. Because every single one of you, as we’re standing here and looking at each other, you have been waiting for so long…” His voice was drowned out by cheers. “For so long, you have not forgotten us, you came to our shows, you have been amazingly supportive, and I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart!” He shouted the last few words as the sea of faces roared in joy.

When they calmed down again, he continued. “And because you are the ones that stuck with us… because of that, I would like to say a few things to you.

If you know about the days of my youth…” Pause as people laughed and shouted affirmations at him. “…you would probably remember that I was presumed to be in a relationship with a person that is standing on the stage with me, right now.”

It was good that only a few people cheered. But it made him sick to the stomach, still.

“Okay, no,” Rowan came in, and people applauded, and he pointed at them with a not-so-fake scolding look, “no, no, don’t you woo at me, young lady. This is so utterly not a thing! Jimmy has never left the friendzone!”

“Same here,” Jimmy laughed and patted Rowan across the back, maybe a little too hard, overcompensating. “Did you all, like, miss that Rowan came out as straight all those years ago?”

People were laughing. Nobody really cared, they just found it funny. Rowan claimed he was leaving it to Jimmy before “the PR team has me taken out”, and retreated a few steps, leaving Jimmy to face the crowd again.

Deep breaths, he told himself.

“What I wanted to say was that there was one thing that those people back then got right.” Breathe in, breathe out. “I am gay.”

Two seconds of silence and then an absolute thunderstorm of an applause. A rainbow pride flag landed at his feet and Jimmy took it, with meek laughter, and put it around his shoulders. He heard Rowan cheer and clap too, and for what felt like years, he couldn’t get a word in. He wished the whole world could be like this.

“I – gosh, thank you all, I’m not sure whether it was a surprise,” he finally managed to say, his voice breaking a little from surprise, “but yeah. I am a trans, gay man…” The hall exploded with joyous noise. “…and it’s not all that there is to me, but I’m here. And queer. Hello.”

He thought he was going to pass out. He had a clever segway prepared, but he couldn’t remember a word of it. This was the moment. He wanted to say it, but at the same time… How could he? It was so hard, why do things have to be so hard?

“The other… the second thing,” he said, gripping the pride flag. “It is that… wow, it’s hard. It’s that I am…” He felt himself turn around, and like a lost child call: “Lister?”

Lister climbed out from behind the drum set instantly. Nobody cheered, there were only confused whispers. Jimmy looked at him, asking for help without words, and he knew, as he always did. Jimmy found a place to look, above the crowd, beyond everything, as Lister stepped in and slowly took his hand.

“The second thing is that we are together,” Lister said, his voice steady.

And the crowd lost it.

There were people wailing in happy tears. Screaming at the top of their lungs. A dissonance of chanting their names, all at a different rhythm, before Rowan ran up to them and hugged them and spurred the crowd on, and they stood there wrapped in a pride flag, and Jimmy was kind of crying and leaning on Lister, and it was another half an hour of a pure mess, before they really left the stage with their ears buzzing and eyes wide.

Jimmy and Lister tumbled into a corner somewhere, and Jimmy had happy tears streaming down his cheeks and they were kissing and holding each other and shaking.

“Oh, I’m such a mess,” Jimmy laughed as he was smearing tears and foundation on his sleeve.

“And I love you so much,” Lister blurted out in a moment of raw honesty.

“Me too,” Jimmy took one of his hands and kissed the palm. “I love you so fucking much it’s unreal sometimes.”

LISTER

This was, hands down, the most jittery Lister got before a show. Ever.

Currently, he found himself sat at an old sofa in the dressing room, hands clasped and both legs involuntarily jumping up and down. Was it annoying? Likely. But he had to let his knees jump in such a vigorous way because if he hadn’t, his teeth might start clattering.

He hated that he couldn’t just be pumped and excited. He had to feel this unsettling, buzzing mess of an emotion. Anxiety, as Jimmy informed him. This is what it’s like for an anxious person, he said… except make it all the time and often for no real reason.

Lister shook his head a little.

His reason, too, was basically nothing. He knew. As if Jimmy would actually reject him or something…

Or would he?

Maybe he could? Oh God, maybe he could…

“Hey! You’re actually scaring me, what’s up with you?!”

Lister blinked in confusion. He saw Jimmy as he was making his way over. A half scolding, half worried look decorated his face.

He lowered his voice when he added: “The last time I saw you like this was when you had withdrawal symptoms. You can tell me if that’s what it is.”

“It’s not that. I’m fine,” Lister insisted. Crap, he was panicking too hard to actually come up with anything convincing. Come on, Bird, focus… He’s onto you…

“Actually,” Rowan’s voice travelled to them from the corner, “I just think we had weird coffee.”

“What? But you’re fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Rowan continued to make up a story, “we both got one, but I didn’t like the taste, it was too strong. Lister felt bad for throwing them out so he finished both of them, didn’t you?”

“Ye-Yes,” he finally caught on. Had to admit, Ro was impressive at this. Lister started to believe what their friend used to say: that he can lie very well, he just chooses not to. “I didn’t want to waste it. The coffee.”

“Lister,” Jimmy grunted in disbelief, hands on his hips. “That was a brilliant idea, you walnut! Look at yourself, you’re gonna be sick now!”

“I’m not.”

“You look it.”

“I’m just…” He rubbed his clammy hands together. “I’m just anxious I guess.”

“Well, no shit. Why do you think I avoid caffeine?” Jimmy sighed and dropped into a squat in front of Lister. He took Lister’s hands in his. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not gonna have a heart attack, are you?”

“No, babe. I’m alright.” The last thing he wanted was for his boyfriend to be anxious too.

He looked down at Jimmy. The realization dawned on him, as he noticed that his partner dropped onto one of his knees to be more comfortable; very soon, the roles will be reversed. It will be Lister down on one knee, only Jimmy would be standing up in that case…

Okay.

Wow.

This is what true internal screaming felt like.

“You need water, as in now,” Jimmy decided and jumped up. “I’ll need you to drink at least three glasses before we start, that should help.”

He rushed out of the room to get hands on some water. Rowan and Lister looked at each other, the pretence gone.

“Alright?” Rowan nodded.

“I’m fucking choking, dude,” Lister replied.

It almost looked as if his friend was going to give him advice, or maybe say something generic and calming… but instead, Rowan let out a small laugh. Lister’s lips started twisting without him giving the command.

And then the two collapsed laughing. The pressure of this being the very last show and the knowledge of what Lister was about to do at the end of it were just the right recipe for hysterics.

Jimmy didn’t bother to ask twice what the joke was, as long as they promised they weren’t laughing at him.

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

As the concert was coming to an end and the crowd was cheering and chanting for an encore, Rowan seized the opportunity and called: “Alright, friends, we would like to indulge you in a little experiment! Can you join me at the front, Lister?”

Lister got out from behind the drum set and jogged to meet the rest of the group. Jimmy smiled, but his eyes studied both of them suspiciously. “What is this?”

Lister lazily raised his arms with the palms of his hands towards the crowd. “I have to admit, we kind of didn’t tell Jimmy what this is about. Sorry, my guy.” People laughed. Rowan signalled someone backstage, as Lister added: “But just so you don’t feel left out, you can have this triangle.” A nervous assistant handed Jimmy the instrument and ran off again.

Everybody was jeering and whistling, but there was an air of anticipation in the air.

“Oh wow, that’s generous of you,” Jimmy grimaced.

“I know, right? Anyhow.” Lister took a step forward, trying to calm himself. He could do this. He had acting jobs, he could absolutely pull this off.

He was Lister freaking Bird! He was the fan favourite!

“Dear audience, allow me to tell you a tale,” he addressed the crowd in his best narrator voice. A couple of screams rose from the crowd, but everyone else was listening intently. Behind him, Rowan started strumming a little melody on his guitar – one they created especially as a backdrop to Lister’s talk.

“I know this is a little unusual,” Lister admitted to the sea of people, “I know that you’re used to stories coming to you via this man’s voice,” he pointed at Jimmy, “and this man’s lyrics.” Rowan. “I know that I am just a simple drummer in this arrangement. But today, I will do the voice and the words. Because, well… Talking all the time is the one thing I am actually good at.”

That made the crowd laugh. Good. Great.

“But now, on with the story!” he exclaimed and made a motion with his hands as if he was showing them a canvas.

“Picture this. We are all fifteen, stuffed into a tiny studio in London,” he smiled, as if nostalgic. His voice flowed out of him in a steady melody, like the hum of a river. “We all had that awkward long hair phase – yes, I see some true veterans in the audience today. Good,” he smiled at a couple of girls in the front who seemed to know exactly which haircuts he meant. He raised his hands again. “I am sitting outside the recording room, behind the glass. On the other side, there’s Jimmy. I can see him clearly, I hope you can too,” he said, keeping his dreamy smile. “The giant black hoodie. The fringe almost hiding his eyes. Jimmy waits for the cue, bouncing up and down,” he chuckled as he swayed up and down on his toes, “and then starts singing the interlude in our first album. It’s only about two lines that we need to record, but I remember wishing it lasted longer. Obviously. Because his voice is amazing.”

The audience started yelling and swooning at once. Lister was honestly more okay looking at them than if he had to look at Jimmy and see what his reaction is.

Now, here comes the real cliché.

“But then,” he paused with real embarrassment in his voice, “then he looked up from under his hair… at me, with those big brown eyes… and asked me, if he was okay.”

Breathe in, and:

“My friends, that was the moment I have fallen for Jimmy Kaga-Ricci.”

A roar of screams started rising from the audience, when Rowan strummed dramatically on the guitar, as if something tragic had happened. Lister shot a look at Jimmy and found him laughing. Surprised, but amused.

Thank fuck. I’ve never told him that before.

On the outside, he theatrically turned to Rowan and scolded him: “I was just getting sentimental here?”

Rowan shrugged and strummed a more positive jingle. Everyone laughed and clapped. Lister was starting to enjoy this, actually. He sighed and walked forward onto a prolonged platform where Jimmy was usually stood on.

“Well, maybe my trusty assistant was right with the sound effects,” he admitted jovially. “Because my crush absolutely did not like me back for years. Hey, but that’s not to throw shade at the guy,” he added quickly to prevent any pitiful reaction that would make Jimmy feel bad. “Because you have to consider that I was and still am a bloody mess of a person.” That amused the listeners. Lister turned round, as he exclaimed. “I am the creator of problems, the maker of terrible decisions. We can all agree that Jimmy is a lovely lad…” He had to pause for the overwhelming reaction in support of that statement. “Yes, he is, but inflicting my teenage self upon him, that would just not be right.”

Jimmy suddenly clanked the metal stick against the triangle in an absolute cacophony to draw attention to himself. “Excuse me,” he called to Lister, “could you stop insulting yourself? I would enjoy that.”

A girl somewhere below them screamed as if she was getting murdered. They exchanged a quick glance, as if to say a little yikes, but then Lister laughed it off.

“Sorry, sorry,” he continued. “Through it all, Jimmy was always here for me. He was one of my first real friends. He was understanding when I needed it most, and ready to kick my ass when I needed it most.” He smiled at his boyfriend and hoped his voice is not shaking. “Look at you, Jimmy! I’m being embarrassing in front of hundreds of people and you still haven’t walked off stage.”

Jimmy laughed and lightly hit the triangle. He was ever the professional, but his eyes glimmered in curiosity. Expectation.

Lister kept looking at him. Rowan was strumming a slightly different melody now, and if Lister did say so himself, the atmosphere was fucking perfect.

“What I want to say is…, I feel that we were together before we got together. We were always partners. A great team. Maybe you wouldn’t think the same,” he admitted to Jimmy, “but a girl can dream. Oh! A rhyme!” He exclaimed to a symphony of awwws and ooohs. People were laughing again, clapping here and there. “That will be the only time!” Lister made a face of feigned shock. “Or not? Wow, I’m unpredictable!”

“You’re hot,” Jimmy rhymed with unexpected confidence.

The crowd was screaming their heads off at this interaction. Even Lister was a little flustered. He came back to his bandmates and gestured toward Jimmy, who was still smirking a little. “And he can improv, what’s not to like, honestly!”

Now, there came the challenge. Lister took a deep breath and prayed to all deities that were listening for this to come off as more sweet than cringy.

His voice fell into a different rhythm. One he kept studying every possible minute from any good slam poetry or original poem reading he could find online.

“But now, if our audience permits,” he put one hand on his chest, turning directly to Jimmy, “I would like to address you. Because, dear Jimmy, although I love each face in the crowd, my friends, my family, those that are both… I can state loud and proud that the biggest part of my heart goes to you.” He grinned sheepishly at Jimmy’s stunned expression, when he added: “If not all of it.”

“I can only guess what goes on in that mind, whether you think this is suspicious or kind… I can’t know these things. But there is one thing I do know. That no matter how much we grow, what we lose and what we gain, through all the smiles and all the pain, I will love you. It’s as big and as small as this. And today was an opportunity I couldn’t miss. So, nobody panic, stay in your seats. It’s not what it looks like.”

He got down on one knee in front of his boyfriend.

Jimmy gasped in sync with the audience: “Lister!” He backed away.

“Oh no, mister, don’t panic,” Lister retorted. That managed to amuse Jimmy a little – that he would know this would be the reaction. The audience was still going absolutely wild. Another pride flag just about missed Lister’s left ear.

“As I said, it’s not what it looks like. And I’m sick of rhyming by now, so…” He reached for Jimmy’s hand. Pulled it down to his by the triangle and encouragingly pressed a thumb into his palm. “I wanted to tell you – in a way that means something – that I don’t see myself living my life with anyone but you. So I have a question. Can you imagine me proposing in the near future?”

Jimmy looked like he suddenly couldn’t speak any human language. The only thing that came from his open lips was: “Huh?”

He was trying not to panic. To explain it well. Better than he had to Rowan.

“I would like to start talking about marriage. With you. I’m asking your permission to… go pick out a ring, perhaps. And propose to you. One day.”

“You want to…” He was trying so hard to make sense of this situation. Lister could almost hear the wheels in his brain clanking and whirring. After a second, Jimmy blurted out about the last thing Lister expected. “You really want to marry me?”

He had to laugh. That sounded so bizarre! You have the wrong number, I don’t think you want to marry me, of all people. As if.

Covering Jimmy’s hand with both of his own, he answered: “Who else, Jimmy?”

As there was no instant reply, Lister felt the audience grow impatient.

This was the time to smooth things out. Make it amusing.

“Okay, I don’t want to stress you out. You can just think about it,” he ensured his partner. But I just wanted to let you know my, er, intentions.” Wow, great choice of words, Bird. But was there any better? He decided to make fun of himself a little when he sarcastically added: “Because this is the regency era, apparently.”

People were losing it. However, Lister was only looking at Jimmy now… and realized that the eyes of his boyfriend were welling up with tears as he looked down. Were they happy or sad tears? Shit.

“Oh…” Lister managed to say, when Jimmy dropped the triangle on the floor with a thud and shakily took Lister’s face into his soft palms.

His voice was trembling with emotion, as he answered:

“Allister Bird, I would love to marry you. I don’t think you even need to propose again.”

Before Lister could even register what he meant, Jimmy leaned down and gently pressed a kiss at his forehead. This was probably as close to kissing in public as Jimmy would ever allow.

Lister finally realized. He realized.

At the same time, Jimmy dropped down and Lister shot up. They embraced each other tightly, a mess of crumpled clothes and limbs and teary laughing, and Lister almost lifted Jimmy off the ground as he was happy-crying into the shorter man’s shoulder.

They heard Rowan screaming at the top of his lungs: “HE SAID YES, PEOPLE!” His voice was drowned out by the massive storm of excited screams that wouldn’t seize for good twenty minutes after.

But Lister and Jimmy didn’t really pay attention.

Paradoxically, although everyone could see them – and everyone would see them, as the news probably already travelled through the internet at the speed of light – it felt like this moment was theirs alone.

[modgirlyreposts-revamped]

Ok I'm gonna take a bit to chip away at rewriting these headcanons

You ever get like.. totally conflicting headcanon vibes for a character. Because for the weirdest fucking reason WordGirl gives me demiboy vibes and also lesbian vibes but I literally can't even wrap my head around why because those conflict with my actual headcanons

I... have like two tropes I like I guess. Becky's blood is yellow/gold, and as a result, she blushes gold. (the reason I point out the "two tropes" thing is because this is also true of my Shadow design.) Similarly, this is why my Lexiconian design of her (which is still in development) has yellow skin.

The Botsford family is southern Asian-American, and the reason Becky looks so similar to them is just because that's the environment she grew up in.

She has a lot of repressed anger. It's just how she is. She holds onto it super tightly and she cannot let it go it's a curse

She gets so stressed so easily, it's basically her natural state of being. As much as she protects the city because it's important to her, it's also fucking stressful. If you were to take a substantial amount of pressure or anxiety off this girl's conscience she would probably pass out from sheer relief and may or may not suffer cardiac arrest

Her powers, just like your AU version of her, also get triggered and act out of control in high emotional stress, but she's really resistant to that because of just being in... constant distress.

I also have an idea that she sort of... shifts between her "natural" and Lexiconian form in relation to her emotions. A lot of emotional reactions, because she's a prepubescent kid with the weight of the world on her shoulders. It gets... easier as she grows up. But it gets worse before it gets better 'cause teenage years as an alien superhero lying to everyone you trust with totally jacked up emotional regulation SUCKS. I would know from experience /hj

She's not the only alien in the city. The area is surprisingly something of a hotspot for supernatural activity, which is why Becky remains to fight danger.

From one convo w my sister about WordGirl, she proposed the idea that Becky's parents actually know she's WordGirl- basically, there's this one scene in, I think, The Amazing Spiderman 2? where May is talking to Peter, because he wants to know more about his parents and May doesn't want to tell him about them, and it's this whole conflict about keeping secrets from each other, and my sister says that scene shouldn't have gone the way it did because it sucks, instead that should have had Peter admit to May that he's Spiderman, and then have May, who's seen Peter return home beaten up after disappearing randomly, probably heard his voice through the Spiderman mask, most likely seen his costume at home, etc., respond with something to the effect of "I know, I just needed you to tell me". Her idea is that in terms of Becky and her parents, that should sort of be the idea. I mean, the secret has to come forth at some point, and honestly, it's not one that she's too great at hiding around family. TJ is pretty young, so I can see it continuing to fly over his head, but their parents are adults and they're certainly aware of a lot of oddities about their daughter.

Ok fuck this I'm going to bed this is in-fucking-comprehensible and not at all the headcanons I wanted to share I'll do this later

Oh god, your Becky is starting to sound too much like me- /hj

My poor child, I love her sm-

[lochsides]

If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power Review

Where do I even begin with 'If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power'? It is such a good album, it's almost criminal. If I had to pick the best album to be released this year, IICHLIWP would be it. Halsey has always been an excellent songwriter, that was never even in question, but it has been proved once again, in case anyone wasn't paying attention. IICHLIWP is an album that covers so much depth in sound and in lyric. The dichotomy of the Madonna and the Whore, as they said in their announcement of the album, is an overarching theme of IICHLIWP and it is articulated so consummately. The references to pregnancies and childbirth are more subtle than I expected but that's what makes them so genius. This is an album where every lyric is intentional.

My favourite songs are ‘The Tradition’, 'Bells in Santa Fe', '1121' and 'Ya'aburnee'. More detailed thoughts on each track are below the cut. Trigger warnings for sexual assault and miscarriages.

The Tradition — This is the first song on the album and Halsey had already fucked me up so there's that. I got full-body chills listening to 'The Tradition'. The production is masterful. There is this darkness that settles in early and ebbs and flows beautifully, not only throughout the song but the album as a whole. 'The Tradition' already sets up so many of themes of this album, but what a way to talk about sexual assault. I am in love with the entire chorus line but I think my favourite lyric is ‘she got the life she wanted but now all she does is cry.’

Bells in Santa Fe — The transition from 'The Tradition' into 'Bells in Santa Fe' was so smooth I didn't even notice that the songs had changed until I looked at my screen. I don't think I could actually describe how much I adore this song if I took up the rest of my life doing so. The production is absolutely God-tier. Everything from the way it keeps building throughout the song to the percussion to the piano on the second chorus and the distortion towards the end is so perfectly done. You will never hear me rave about production this much. What a fucking song! On top of all that, you have the lyrics that are so powerful. When they said 'cause who the fuck would chose this?' it reminded me of my favourite Manicsong, 'Forever... is a long' where they sing 'how could somebody ever love me?' so that stood out to me. I love the cadence on 'secondhand thread in a secondhand bed with a second man's head' but the lyric 'better off dead so I reckon I'm headed to Hell instead' is probably the one that hits the hardest. My escapist, runaway tendencies felt very exposed by the entirety of the pre-chorus.

Easier than Lying — The way she emotes on ‘you lair, you don’t love me’ is fucking everything. I needed to start with that. It’s my favourite aspect of the whole song. And then there is that obvious callback in the bridge. ‘Easier than Lying’ is the punk sound we were promised of IICHLIWP and they delivered. The Grungy electric guitar, the bass, the production!!! This one goes hard and it makes no apologies of it’s anger.

Lilith — ‘I’m disruptive, I’ve been corrupted, and by now I don’t need a fucking introduction.’ I mean what could I possibly say after that??! Honestly, I love the duality of how this line could be about Halsey but it could also be about Lilith, herself. There is a selfishness to 'Lilith' that I love. When you connect that to the mythology of Lilith preying on pregnant women and the context of this album — it's just got so many layers. Halsey's mind!! I love the sound of this song. The production has a classic rock flare to it. Those drums are so clean and the bass accompanies it perfectly. The smoothness of their vocal on this track is very pleasing to listen to.

Girl is a Gun — I'm not going to lie, this song isn't for me. I get it. The message is right up my street but the overall sound of it just isn't what I personally like. I do love their little laugh at the start! The lyric 'it's a shot in the dark, I'm not a walk in the park, I come loaded with the safety switched off' is my favourite.

You asked for this — This song is really interesting because they gave us a pop punk sound, pushed it to the back of the track, really grungey guitar riffs and all, but their voice is so light and delicate almost, very airy in a way that stands apart from the backing track. I really like it. To me, it's like an emphasis of the message of 'You asked for this'. Young women are oftentimes forced to grow up too soon and 'be a big girl.' Society forgets, I would even say purposely overlooks, that they are 'still somebody's daughter,' one of the few things that is used to give value to a woman. We've all heard people throw the phrase "but what if it was your daughter/sister?" into the conversation when discussing women that have somehow been abused by the patriarchy. 'You asked for this' also calls attention to how when we're younger, all we want is to be grown up but how unaware we can be of what it means to be a woman in this world, the trauma that comes with it.

Darling — The guitar in this song and it’s almost-country sound are what sets this song apart from the rest of the album. ‘Darling’ is a lullaby for their child, but it tells a story of their struggles. It is honest in a way that feels private. Motherhood sounds so good on them!! This song is just a collection of things I love in music. 'Darling' is soothing and it sounds like comfort, in both melody and lyric. 'Foolish men have tried but only you have shown me how to love being alive' is perhaps the softest lyric on the whole album.

1121 — I expelled a heavy sigh when I heard ‘1121’ it absolutely took my breath away*.* This song is a truly moving ode to an unborn child. So many people talk about how they had never known what unconditional love really meant until they had a child. Halsey tells it as such: ‘you could have my heart and I would break it for you.’ I love their vocal styling on this song so much, going between their lower register and those beautiful falsettos in the chorus. The overlapping on the bridge of ‘please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you left me’ and ‘I’m running out of time to tell you, I’m running out of things that I regret’ and ‘you’d never, you told me’ really capture all the wide array of emotions felt by pregnant person upon finding out they are pregnant when they’ve dealt with miscarriage. Her voice emotes the fear of losing another child, the regret of the ones she's already lost, the promise, almost desperate, of the opportunity they have right now. All of these feelings are brought to life further by the production of the song. There is so much depth in '1121'.

honey — Pop punk wlw anthem check. Halsey suits this sound so much. This track, the production, the instrumentation, all of it catered to their voice so perfectly. The sound is so refreshing and yet so classic. I adore the melody. It’s unsuspectingly catchy. I wonder if there are links to ‘Lilith’ with ‘she’s mean and she’s mine’ or if I’m just reaching. Either way, a song about a love that is a little chaotic and wild, sign me up!

Whispers — Whispering on a song called 'Whispers' might be obvious but I'm a basic bitch so leave me alone, I loved it. Lyrically, 'Whispers' was the song that I saw myself in the most. When she said 'camouflage so I can feed the lie that I'm composed,' I just felt far too exposed for comfort. Same thing with 'I do not know me.' And that's what art is supposed to do. The instrumental is haunting and dark. The way they create tension by adding in one instrument at a time. The production is amazing. Top 5 shit right here!

I am not a woman, I'm a god — Not only does this song have the catchiest hook, it’s literally ‘I am not a woman, I’m a god. I am not a martyr, I’m a problem. I am not a legend, I’m a fraud so keep your heart ‘cause I already got one.’ That hook right there tells you everything you need to know about this song. ‘I am not a woman, I’m a god’ acknowledges that one needs not be a woman to create life. They are claiming power to their gender identity through relation to Godliness. Even in the other lyrics, they talk about being ‘a different human in a new place’ or ‘a better human with a new name’ (this line in particular draws direct parallels to trans experiences). Both times, they specifically use ‘human.’ The production of this song is designed to be a single. It’s got the signature darkness of this album, tells the listener where Halsey is at sonically, and it’s a total banger.

The Lighthouse — The way this song just comes in swinging right away with the distortion and the heavy guitars is exactly what I expected from this album going into it for the first time. Very modern punk rock. And the lyric doesn't pull any punches either. 'From a tender age I was cursed with rage,' like c'mon!! I love the melody and her vocal inflations throughout the song. This is the longest song on the album but it doesn't drag. The change up right before the outro really helps with that. I find that outro so interesting. The contrast between the instrumental constantly building but their voices staying so far in the back on the track creates so much tension that is relieved in the best way possible with 'Ya'aburnee'.

Ya'aburnee — ‘Ya’aburnee’ is the perfect conclusion to this album. Halsey said in their Apple Music interview that IICHLIWP is about the power to choose and by the end of the album you realise that they choose love. This song perfectly embodies that. It’s familial. The entire chorus talks of seeing yourself in your kin and the circle of life. The second verse is a clear love letter to their partner and it makes me emotional, knowing their romantic history as we do, to hear them sing ‘wrap me in a wedding ring.’ I love how the lyric ‘you will bury me before I bury you’ is not only a statement of their hopes that they don’t have to live in a world without their loved ones, a statement of how parents should never have to bury their children, but it almost sounds like a protective promise that they will do anything to ensure their loved ones are kept from harm so as not to need burial. The softness of the instrumental on ‘Ya’aburnee’ is feels like unwinding from the rest of the record. It’s such a beautiful song.

[billyspotato]

Could i possible request a jj imagine from that one scene where they trap the girls on the boat, and reader gets left with them, reader is dating jj, but they have really bad anxiety so she is upset with him when they go to pick the m up from the boat

Left Behind - JJ Maybank

Words: 1.6k+

Type: Angst & Fluff

Warnings: English is not my first language, sorry for any typos. Fear of the sea/being left in a boat.

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

It’s been around 6 hours since JJ, John B and Pope left you, Sarah and Kie alone in a boat with no way back home.

You had agreed to making Sarah and Kie have a conversation and sort out their issues, but the idea of you being the one that has to be with them just to make sure they don’t kill each other... Now that’s some bullshit, but it was decided. Without you knowing a word of it.

And just to make matters worse, you have anxiety problems. Everyone knows this, especially your boyfriend, JJ.

And we all know that anxiety has the power to make a small issue or fear into a whole trauma-like experience.

But the motherfucker didn’t even think twice in leaving you in the boat.

It was just like you all had planned, everyone steps into the boat and then runs out but you were utterly pissed when noticing that they were escaping without even looking back at you.

Oh and the way they all laughed... Anger boiled your blood.

You are definitely not okay with any of this.

Kie and Sarah have been talking on one side of the boat since you told them to, and you are sitting in the other side, leaving them to have their privacy.

And now, your mind is at 500 miles an hour, since anxiety has gotten a way with it - thinking of all the possible horrible endings this evening could have.

You couldn’t swim back to the island, you couldn’t row this kind of boat back home, and also can’t call for help, if anything bad happens.

This is just a disaster waiting to occur. And your mind is hating it. Your hands are slightly sweaty, heart is pumping rapidly, breathing seems difficult and seeing the skies become dark is just making everything worse.

You’re not a boat kind of person. You like the idea of being in one but not for too long.

And these 6 hours... are long enough for anyone to pull up next to this boat and try to steal something, kidnap you or even, I don’t you, something worse.

Outer banks is safe, yes, but anybody who has seen any crime documentaries knows that even the safest towns in the world have god damn someone that fucks it all up. It can even be an outsider.

But that, in a strange way, is not what is worrying you the most.

And anybody with anxiety will understand when you say that you don’t exactly know what’s bothering you but it god damn is fucking you up inside.

You just have to find out now to try to fix it.

“You okay?” Sarah asks, making you look away from the water and look up at her.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what else I could be doing if it weren’t for this situation” You comment in a low tone as she takes a seat next to you. “Have you and Kie talked it all through?”

“Yeah, I guess we’re friends again”

You smile a bit at her and she leans her head on your shoulder.

“How long do you think we’re going to be in here for?” She asks in a whisper and you sigh, tears filling your eyes, but you blink them away.

“For a few more hours”

(...)

It’s been some hours, and the girls have noticed that something is off about you ever since Kie took a seat next to you, just like Sarah. And they haven’t left your side ever since.

You had told them that it was just your anxiety and they tried their best to make you feel better.

Sarah tried to play a game and Kie tried to tell a story, anything to distract your mind.

It had worked, in some way. But only for a few minutes.

You even cried a little when they asked you to tell them what’s wrong. Mostly out of frustration, you did not mean to cry.

As you shared your frustrations with the girls and tears ended up rolling down your face, they both hugged you close to them, trying to comfort you not only with their affection but with their words as well, as they said: “we got you” and “we won’t ever let anything happen to you”.

As the three of you stared into the dark sky, looking at the stars, you hear a motor of a boat.

“They’re here” Sarah whispers to you and Kie.

The sound of the motor of the boat gets closer and pure anger just boiled in your veins. Mainly towards JJ over any other of the guys.

You three get up from the front of the boat and walk over to the John B’s boat, now floating right next to yours, at the back.

“How did it go?” Pope asks but none of you answers.

Sarah steps in the boat with John B’s help and when he did the same thing to you, JJ also tried to help, which you just ignored.

He leaves his hand in the air as you took John B’s hand for help and then quickly taking a seat next to Sarah, who already sat down comfortably in the smaller boat.

As Kiara goes sit next to Pope, JJ sits down with you.

“So, how did it go?” John B repeats Pope’s words and Sarah looks up from her hands to him.

“Amazing” She answers sarcastically.

You ignore their conversation as John B starts taking all of you back to the island and you finally feel your body starting to relax.

“Hey. You okay?” JJ asks you and you look at him with a serious expression, not even saying a word. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’”

You look away from him while rolling your eyes and stare into the water, in silence. And that lasted the whole way back to JB’s house.

You all got up in your feet and started to get off the boat. You, Kie and Sarah almost kissed the ground as your feet felt the dirt under your shoes.

As everyone decides to stay under the tree and watch the sky change colors, you decide to go in JB’s house and sit at the porch with a glass of water - as any other normal human being would do.

“Can we talk?” JJ asks from behind you as you grab a glass cup from the cabinet of the kitchen.

“Depends on what you want to say”

“You’re mad at me-“

“No shit” You interrupt while filling the cup with water.

“Is it because we left you in the boat with them?”

“What do you think?” You ask with the driest of tones.

“We didn’t mean to make you upset, we just thought it was fu-”

“You know that I’m scared of the water, and you still fucking left me there, JJ. That. Is. Not. Funny”

“I honestly didn’t know you were that scared”

“Well, you could’ve at least taken a guess” You spit the words and he looks at you with a softer expression now.

You two stay silent for a few seconds and don’t try to meet each other’s gaze. JJ doesn’t really know what to say to you. 

He wants to make things right, but he just doesn’t know how.

He takes a few steps forward to get closer to you and you look up from the floor at him.

“I’m sorry” He starts, “I really didn’t know you were that scared of water. Really. If I knew, I would never let the guys even think of doing something close to that”

You stay silent.

“I don’t know what I can do to make you forgive me. What I did was fucked up and I didn’t even acknowledge it until now” 

Kie’s laughter from outside fills the air but it doesn’t stop the boy standing next to you.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

Well that took a dramatic turn, You thought.

You look back at him with a serious expression and he almost flinches at the sight of it.

“Of course I’m going to forgive you, ass hat” You say and relief reaches his face, “Just not now”

“What can I do to make you forgive me faster?”

You start to think for a second and JJ starts naming actions.

“What about cleaning your room? Not that I’m saying that it’s dirty, I just can do that for you, you know? And, taking you out for ice cream? Maybe bake you a cake?”

“JJ, you don’t know how to bake”

“I can learn. I’m sure that there’s millions of videos on easy cake recipes”

You look away as you fight a smile over JJ’s desperation and that slightly relaxes the boy, who is internally freaking the heck out.

“You have a lot of baking to do” You say and a huge smile grows on the blonde boy as he wraps his arms around you as a celebration. “Like, a lot”

JJ lets you go and looks down at you.

“I don’t care, I’ll work hard enough” He says, “What do you want? A cake with like 5 layers? Cupcakes with hearts made out of that pink shit? Maybe, cinnamon rolls?”

You laugh at his ideas and choice of words and JJ can’t help but smile as well.

“I’m not kidding, you might need to start listing what you want now. I’m a hard worker but I don’t have the time-stopping power so I can work 7 hours in 1″ He says with his smile as you continue to laugh, “Pick pick woman, I need to work”

- - - - - - -

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey ✨🌸

[hobbitsnapes]

the elf in the café chapter 3

A corpse husband story

(I do not own this photo, nor do I know where it originated from. All credit goes to the artist.)

Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries)

A/N: H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently.

Each day passes by, and neither couldn’t stop texting one another. They’d text at least once a day, whether it be how their day had been, or trying to plan a day to see one another again. Their sleeping schedule was quite similar, but with her waking up early each morning for class. But he’d still get texts from her in the middle of the night, how she managed to do her schoolwork on such little sleep was beyond him.

She chalked it up to having done this for so many years, that she grew used to staying up late at night only to wake early in the morning.

They had finally set a day for the date, the coming Saturday. Nerves wracked him each day it grew closer, but excitement filled him further. He hadn’t felt this excited to have someone over, honestly since David had come by. Since then, he’s had little to nobody come over. Let alone having a date come. Each day that grew closer, the happier he became to seeing her again.

Panic filled him as he scrambled to get the rest of the ingredients ready to throw in the pot. He had decided on trying to make menestra de verduras, a soup he remembered having as a child. He however completely forgot how difficult the dish was to make, when you had never made it and have little to no culinary skills.

A knock was heard at the door, causing him to drop the spoon he had in his hand, splattering sauce all over the floor. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, grabbing his apron and hastily taking it off, wiping away the mess. He ran over to the door, stopping and checking in the mirror to make sure he hadn’t got any on himself. Once he saw there was none, he ran to open the door.

She waited at the door of the apartment, slightly fidgeting with her jacket. She heard a muffled yell,her heart rate increasing.

She waited for about a minute,growing concerned she had red the text wrong and got the wrong apartment.

That was until the door was hastily opened, spotting him in the doorway. He had a smile on his face, his hair slightly pushed back out of his face. Her breath hitched when she saw him, taking notice of his attire. Black pants that were pulled over a dark grey dress shirt, with the sleeves cuffed to about his mid arm. It was a slightly fitted top, showing his toned torso and arms nicely. “Hi.” He chuckled out, sounding slightly out of breath.

He pulled her into a hug,inhaling his smell almost instantly. The smell of pine hitting her nose, making her smile. His warm arms envelope her so comfortably, masking the chill of the night air from her.

They pulled away slightly, arms still around one another. Their faces were close, berry feeling each other’s breathing fan across their faces. They both smiled, growing warmth in the face from the close proximity.

He let her inside, telling her to have a seat on his couch.

He ran back over to the kitchen, ready to chop up a few more of the vegetables. He kept stealing glances at her, his breath catching each time.

He knew from the second he saw her she was beautiful, but tonight, she was breathtaking.

A soft tan floral top was tucked into a black pleated skirt, that hit right above her knee. It sit right at her waist, giving her a very romantic vintage feel. Her legs were covered by flesh colored nylons, black ballet flats covered her feet. Her hair was slightly curled, framing her face perfectly. Her face looked almost bare, but her eyes sparkled as if she had gems in them. Her cheeks were dusted with a soft flush, with the rest of her skin glowing, as if she was being lit with candle light. The only truly noticeable makeup was her lips, painted in a soft, rose red color. Making them look like a freshly budded flower.

Panic sets in him as he rushes to cut the rest of the remaining vegetables, anxiety growing with the sound of the soup boiling. “Fuuckk.” He whispers to himself, seeing the soup burning. He scrambled to shut the burner off, trying his hardest to try and figure out how to salvage the dinner. He should’ve chose something easier, something that he wouldn’t fuck up and ruin the entire night. God why did he even bother trying to-“Hey what’s going on? Everything alright?” She asks, making his heart plummet into his chest. He feels her hand on his shoulder, knowing she can feel him shaking. “Uh-m. Yeah yeah it’s fine, I just kinda burnt the entire thing.” He stammers, giving up on trying to steady his voice. His hands tangle into his hair, pulling the long strands. He wishes he could just disappear, get away from the sheer embarrassment of the situation. “Here let me see.” She says, slightly moving beside him to look at the now ruined soup. Her face slightly falling, dread filling him. She looks up at him, no trace of anger or annoyance in her face. “Here, why don’t I make something tonight? Is that okay?” She asks, her voice smooth and calming. “Uh, sure. I’m so sorry.” “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, now, I have an idea of something I can whip up.” His heart slightly calms down at her words, no longer worrying about ruining the entire night. “Alright, I’m gonna need milk, flour, pees and some kind of fish. Salmon is best for this.” She says, walking over and opening some of the food cupboards. He runs to grab the supplies, knowing he has all of those.

In less than 30 minutes, dinner was plated and ready. He watched her in amazement as she whizzed around the room, effortlessly making the entire dinner like it was second nature. Not once did he see any panic, or rush in her. It’s like she had done this for forever, knowing exactly what to do so easily.

They both sat on the couch, pulling the table closer for them. He let out a small moan at the taste, a smile on his face as he ate. It was shockingly amazing, way better than the disaster he was gonna make for them both. “This is amazing.” He says, causing a smile on her face. “Thanks, it’s an old recipe that I’ve made countless times over the years.” She chuckled, watching as he eats smiling. “Where'd you learn it?” He asks. “It’s a really common recipe in New England, that’s actually where I’m from. I grew up primarily in both New Hampshire and Vermont.” “Wow, so then what made you come to San Diego?” He asks,watching as she let out a small sigh. “School mostly, and to get away from, some people.” He can hear the sadness in her voice, his heart panging slightly.

“That was so amazing, thank you.” He says, watching as she chuckles as she dried the bowls. “You’ve said that like 4 times tonight.” “And I’m gonna keep saying it cause it was amazing.” He laughs, causing her to throw her head back in laughter.

They both settle in on the couch, sitting beside one another. “Uh, I don’t really watch TV, so we’ve really only got my laptop to watch stuff. Is that okay?” He asks, looking over at her. “That’s perfectly fine cause I don’t watch TV either.” She laughs.

“Alright so I’ve got Netflix, Hulu, and prime. What’s something you’d like?” He asks, setting his laptop up in front of them. “Uh, are you into horror movies?” She asks. “I like them.” He chuckles. “Okay so do you wanna watch a classic, hack and slash, paranormal, or psychological?” Age asks, a smile on her face. “Whatever you like, I’m fine with anything you’d want.” He asks, a smirk on his face. He watched as she flushed, smiling at her. “Psychological it is then.”

“That was, what?” He asks, watching as the credits roll. They had gotten closer throughout the movie, no longer with a small bit of space between them like they started. Their legs and sides touched, facing the laptop. His arm later behind her, after a while of toying with the idea and barely moving his arm, he finally built up the courage and placed his hand over her shoulder, letting out a breath when she smiled and scooted closer to him. Letting him put his arm over her. Both of their faces flushed.

“Did you not like it?” She asks, looking up at him. “No i did, it just was kinda weird. What was the name of it again?” “The school. It’s one of my favorites because of how different it is. And you gotta remember, I’m in school to become a Behavioral psychologist. It’s in my nature to like these kinda movies.” “Hm, at least there’s one smart one here.” He chuckles, pulling her in closer. “You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.” She chuckles. “Oh yeah, how can you tell?” He asks, looking down at her. She looks at him with her eyebrows raised, a small smirk on her face. “Oh yeah.” He laughs, realization setting in. Causing both of them to laugh.

“So now, do you need a PHD to become a psychologist?” “In the state of California, yes. You also need 3,000 hours of supervised experience, 1,500 which can be pre-doctoral. I started college when I was 17, completing my bachelors when I was 20. Now I’ve only got about 5 more years until I’m finished with my PhD which is another word for a Doctorate.” “Well damn, miss smarty pants. Got everything don’t ya.” He says, making her look at him in question. “Got not only brains but beauty.” He says, making her flush and shove her head into his chest, causing him to laugh as he pulls her in further.

They both sat on the couch with another movie playing, neither one paying any attention to it. They both had opened a bottle of wine he had for some time, deciding to have a glass. He had it for years, always saying he’ll leave it for a special occasion. Well tonight seemed like the perfect night for it.

Neither were drunk or even tipsy, maybe a slight buzz. But it did help to wash away any small ounce of awkwardness between them. He slightly opened up more, cracking jokes with ease and making her laugh so hard she had to use the bathroom 3 times.

“And the movies over. I can’t even remember what it was.” He laughs, watching as the credits finish. “I honestly don’t even think we picked anything. I think we just clicked on it and used it for background noise.” She laughed. “Well then, what do you wanna do?” He asks, arms folded comfortably over himself, the same smirk planted on his face. “Well, there is something I love doing.” She says, a smile on her face.

Both laughed out loudly as they moved around the room, arms around one another as they tried keeping up with the song. They tried keeping in beat with the song playing in the beginning, but giving up halfway through.

He has been leading it for the most part, having loved dancing for years. But not doing it in years, and having a good buzz on him, made his moves a little worse than he remembered. But neither cared as they moved around the room, laughing as they sang along to the song. The song came to an end, both stoping with their movements momentarily. “Wait, I know the perfect one.” He says, running over to the laptop. He types in something, then runs down the hall out of the living room. She wondered if he’s lost his mind and ran off. That is until she hears the beginning of the song, letting out a laugh. “Just take those old records off the shelf!” He sings, sliding across the floor in his socks, making her clutch her stomach in laughter as he recreates the scene perfectly. Using a hairbrush as the makeshift microphone. He breaks after a few lines, falling over laughing. She runs over to him, bending down to see if he’s okay. She can’t help but fall over laughing with him, him pulling her in closer as they both wheeze out laughing on the floor.

“That was, oh my god.” He laughs, barely able to catch his breath from his laughter as they sit down. They danced for another hour, barely able to contain their laughter as tears fell down their faces. “God I haven’t had that much fun in, I can’t even remember.” She laughs, her head resting on his shoulder.

She lets out a small yawn, trying to cover it with her hand. “It’s getting pretty late.” He says, his voice hoarse due to laughter. “Yeah it is, but, there’s something I’ve been waiting for all week.” She says, making him look at her in question. Until he remembers, a smile breaking on his face. “Oh yeah I forgot, you still want me to say batman or snape lines.” He chuckles. She sits up, her eyes wide as she smiles. He can’t help but smile at the excitement on her face. “Alright fine. But you better feel lucky, I’ve had so many people ask me this and I’ve refused for forever.” “Well that’s not the only reason why I’m lucky.” She says, making him flush. “Alright, I’m guessing you want me to say the obvious one.” He says, making her nod her head in excitement. He lets out a small cough, taking in a breath. “I’m Batman.” He says in his most serious voice. Making both throw their heads back in laughter. “That was, that was perfect hun.” She laughs, her face falling in realization when she realized what she said. Her heart plummets to the bottom of her stomach. “Hey it’s okay, I kinda like it.” He chuckles.

“Okay what’s another one you want?” “Hm, how about your best snape you can.” She asks. He coughs again, reading his voice. “Mister Potter.” He says, trying his best to try and emulate the potion Professor. Making her laugh at his struggle to match the accent. “That one was really bad.” He chuckles. “No it wasn’t, tire doing such a good job.” She laughs. “You’ve got the perfect voice for both, although I do prefer your own voice over each of them.” She says, a flush to her face. “Oh yeah?” He asks, changing his voice slightly to have a more flirty tone. He watched as she flushed harder, trying to cover her face in her hands. “So you like when I talk like this?” He asks, the same tone but with a smirk on his face. He chuckles as she completely covers her face in her palms, shaking her head yes. “Then I’ve got one that you’ll really like. Come here.” He says, pulling her into his side. He looks down at her, watching as she removes her face from her hands. He has a smile on his face as he looks at her. “What up baby?” He says, making her slightly squeal out and bury her face in his chest. Making him laugh as she burrows her head into him. Wrapping his arms around her as he shakes from laughter.

“Tonight was amazing, thank you so much.” She says. Both of their arms around one another as they stand at the door.

It was extremely late at night, neither realizing how late it was until they checked the time. Neither wanted to leave, wishing they could stay in the small bubble they created that night. “Are you sure you can drive home? I can call a cab or an Uber-“ “I’m fine hun, it’s been hours and I only had a glass and a half of wine. I’ll make it home safely. Trust me, I’m really careful.” She says, a hand resting on his cheek. He can’t help but smile at her, wishing so bad to pull her back inside and having her stay. “Alright, text me or even call me when you can.” “I’ll call you when I get home okay? Now get some sleep, I can tell this past week it’s a habit of yours not to get much.” “How did you, oh wait I forgot again. Damnit.” He laughs, making her chuckle. “Yeah, can’t fool someone like me.” She teases. “Alright fine, but I’ll be waiting for that call before I even lay down.” He says, making her smile. He pulls her in for another hug, his heart beating out of his chest when he feels her soft lips press a kiss into the side of his jaw.

She pulls away with a smile, watching as his face flushes a deep red with a dumbfounded smile on his face. “Bye hun.” She says, walking away from the door, his eyes watching her until she’s out of sight. His fingers lightly touching the spot from her lips, pulling them back and seeing the small bit of red on his fingers. He runs over to his bathroom, looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of her lips on his jaw, a smile grows on his face.

He sits in his bed with his phone in his hands, checking the time every few seconds. Anxiety builds in him the longer the time goes by, only growing stronger the longer he waits. What if she didn’t make it back? Is she okay? Oh god he should’ve just asked her to stay, what if something hap-his thoughts were interrupted when his phone rings, her contact shining on the screen. Relief fills him as he answers the phone, a large breath leaving him. “Hey I’m sorry it took so long. It usually doesn’t take more than 20 minutes but there was a good amount of traffic in my way.” She says, he can hear her as she exits her car and walk up to her door. He can hear as she unlocks her door, hearing as she walks in. Her flats tap lightly against her hard floor, the sound comforting him. “Hey it’s alright, I’m just glad you made it home safely.” “You don’t have to worry about that, I’m a really, careful driver.” He lays his head down on his pillows, his eyes growing heavy. “Good, thank you for calling me. You really didn’t have to.” “But I wanted to, I knew that you’d be worrying if I made it back home safely.” He chuckles at this. “God you can really read me.” “Well I mean you do let me.” She chuckles, making him smile. “I guess I do.” He says, his voice lowering in volume due to his tiredness. “Why don’t you sleep? I can hear how tired you are.” She says, her voice calming hun further. “Alright, I’ll get some sleep. Thank you again.” “It’s no problem hun, why don’t you call me when you’re up okay? I don’t have classes tomorrow.” “Alright, I’ll call you in the morning, I hope you had a good night tonight.” He says, hearing her chuckle. “I did, have a good night hun, sweet dreams.”