#literally sobbing HE WROTE IT ABOUT MISSING HIS FAMILY AND HIS DAUGHTER IS PART OF THE SONG

[alienisticxo]

Ad Astra

{Elon Musk x Reader - one shot} {Authors Note: Totally AU, just a short little heart-wrenching, romantic, first person POV one shot that I thought about after watching the first two episodes of the Inspiration4 doc on Netflix last night. I literally wrote it all in one shot (ha ha) so take it for what it is. 

I hope you enjoy! <3 Warnings: None

Elon looked down at me, eyes weary from days worth of missed sleep. I could see the pain in his eyes, accompanied by a twinge of fear and desperation I’d never seen in him before. The situation was impossible, deadly, and to see him that way made me crumble into a million pieces inside.

The revolution that we’d all been warned of had finally arrived. There were riots and wars all around the world. All of humanity's issues had finally come to a head, and the last chance anyone had of salvaging their lives and furthering humankind was a one way ticket to Mars via any space agency they could reach.

The wind blew around us, kicking up the dust and dirt that usually only blanketed against Starbase’s grounds. He looked different, his usual black ensemble of jeans and a t-shirt swapped out for a SpaceX space suit that I knew he never thought he’d have to use in such a situation. I held onto his bicep with one hand, our daughter on my hip in my other arm as I savored the way his fingers dug into my waist; committed it to memory the best I could.

There were explosions, massive, earth shaking explosions that no matter how far away they were, you could hear their ominous echo. It was a war zone, not just in the United States, but across all lands, and even sea.

The roar of engines all around made everything sound even heavier, people leaving their loved ones behind in a rush, unable to save them. Sacrifices being made, goodbyes being painstakingly said. This was the final blow. We both knew that.

I wanted to speak, wanted to cry and scream, but ruining the moment wasn’t worth it. I wanted to remember him exactly as he was. Staring me in the eyes, holding on to me as though he’d never let go.

But he had to.

“Come with me,” Elon said again, the softest trembling in his deep voice.

I inhaled, my own breath shaky as I briefly closed my eyes and shook my head. “I can’t leave my family behind... I couldn’t live with myself on any planet.”

“{Y/N}… “

I fought back tears, my throat tightening with physical pain as I tried my best to keep them at bay.

“Elon..” I inhaled again. “You are the most important person to leave. You’ll help build an entire new society.. Save humanity. You don’t need me for that.”

He shook his head, his hand moving to my cheek. I couldn’t feel the warmth behind his fingers through the suit. It broke my heart even further.  

“I can’t force you..” he mumbled, though I knew he wanted to. “But I’ll never find someone to love again. I’ll never stop loving you.”

Tears involuntarily ran down my cheeks as I held his gaze that was only pleading with me silently. He knew I wanted to be by his side no matter what, to remain his person until we both turned to dust. But there wasn’t room for everyone. I was stuck between abandoning my one true love and my family who’d been there for me through everything in my life. I prayed for hope, that somehow we might pull through, and I might see him again one day.

He and I both knew deep down it was near impossible.

An explosion hit closer, nearly knocking us off of our feet. How my daughter managed to sleep against my shoulder was beyond me.

I looked down at her, and he did the same. He placed a hand on her back and I felt my chest tighten then. Without giving myself time to think, I squeezed her gently and kissed the top of her head, looking back up at him as I ever so carefully passed her over into his arms.

Swallowing hard, I tried to compose myself. His brow knit in slight confusion as he kept his eyes on me, cradling her against his chest. He’d guard her with his life, there was no doubting it, and I quickly came to terms with reality. The state of the Earth was not one I wanted her in, no matter how badly I didn’t want to see her go, either.

I couldn’t let her die, too.

“Take care of her…” I choked gently. “You’re all she has. And she’s always a part of me.”

Elon held onto our sleeping child tightly as the radio went off, a panicked, urgent voice on the other end of the line calling him into the spacecraft before it was too late. For the first time ever, through all the stress and tribulation before, I saw a tear roll down his face.

“I can’t lose you,” he tried one more time.

His words cut me like a knife though I knew he didn’t mean them to. I only kissed our little girl's sleeping head before leaning in towards him, a hand on his cheek, the only exposed flesh from the helmet still being open, and pressed a fervent kiss to the familiar lips I’d fallen so much in love with over the years. It tasted of sorrow and passion, regret and love. I knew he could taste the tears on my lips, parting my mouth slowly before we stopped, eyes remaining closed, savoring the last encounter we’d ever have together for a few seconds more as the world collapsed around us.

The voice over the radio called again, near threateningly this time. I furrowed my brow, more tears falling.

“Go,” I whispered against his lips amidst the chaos, feeling my whole purpose in life slip from my grasp.

He hesitated.

“I loved you before I even met you, and I’ll love forever after I’m gone,” I assured through a soft sob. “And if I can make it out of this, I’ll do everything I can to make it back to you… To both of you.”

“I love you, {Y/N},” he replied. “I’ll always love you.”

He wiped the stream of tears falling from my dampened eyes. The hurt in his expression indicated he felt exactly how I did. He held our girl close and kissed me again, one last habit of each goodbye we’d ever had before. Turning to leave, he made a run for it towards the spacecraft. I could feel my beating heart breaking behind my ribs.

We never thought this day would come in our lifetime. We certainly never thought it would separate us. But as he reached the large rocket, someone took our daughter into the safety of its confines and he stopped, turning back around to face me one last time.

I hoped despite this moment, he’d simply remember me smiling every morning with a cup of coffee for him; hazy vision through lowered lids as we entangled ourselves beneath silk sheets in the throes of irrevocable love. Only the best parts of every second we’d gotten to spend together.

I caught my breath. Deep down I hoped he’d stay, but it was selfish of me. Even further down, I hoped my feet would just carry me on autopilot to the ship. I loved him, with all I would ever have to give.

But I couldn’t leave with him.

And he couldn’t stay with me.

He remained there a few seconds more, no doubt absorbing what was happening. I bit into my lower lip.

“Ad astra, baby,” I cried out, my voice merrily distraught as I forced a broken-hearted smile to egg him on the best I could manage.

“Ad astra, babe,” he called out in return, cutting through the blasts and gunfire.

And with that, he pulled the screen down on his helmet, and disappeared into the ship.

[yodawgiherd]

Gone Clubbing

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Coming hot from the Red Flag update, I wrote this chapter that is in a very similar light. It fits the story, so you can't blame me :P Enjoy!

The interior of the club was looking surprisingly normal. Dark colors, tasteful wooden decorations, tables and booths lining the walls. There was a bar in one corner, but the center of the whole club was undoubtedly the raised stage. It was empty now, Darius’ performance didn’t start yet, so Eren took the lead and maneuvered them towards the reserved booth.

Looking around, he realized one thing. Hey, they even fit here! Mikasa was looking amazing as ever and her goth getup worked well with the overall vibe of the club. Eren, who was dubbed a clown by both himself and his friends, also got substantially better, because black lipstick and nail polish were very far from the most eccentric clothing they saw.

“Look, that catsuit is the same as one of yours.”, he pointed out, making Mikasa look.

“It is..”, she agreed, inspecting the latex bodysuit of one of the visitors, “I guess Darius is making big bucks with custom-made gear.”

“He is an artist.”

“True that. Everything we got from him is amazing, so I will never disagree with his statements.”

Mikasa’s grey eyes slid towards the bar, pondering the question of “not getting hammered.” She could handle a few more drinks, especially when she asks for something with less alcohol, and there was no reason to just sit here dry.

“Well, I’ll get us something to drink, because I might get thirsty over the course of the evening.“, Mikasa stated, letting the double entendre hang in the air as she stood up and walked in the direction of the bar.

That’s when Eren’s phone rang, and a quick check showed that it was his mother calling. As one does not let his mother go into voicemail, he picked up, curious what she might want. They did see each other a few hours back.

“Mom?”

“E-Eren, you freak!”

That made him blink.

“Come again?”

“I know what you did! Mikasa spilled the beans and now I know… Everything! I don’t remember raising you like this!”

Eyes flying to where his fiancé was, Eren’s mind worked frantically around the words. Carla knew… everything? What did that mean? What did Mikasa tell her? He couldn’t imagine his reserved girlfriend bragging about anything embarrassing in public, so…

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“I know that you… you had s… sex in public, Mikasa said so.”

Statement one – Carla was drunk, judging from how she mingled the words.

Statement two- What the fuck?!

Statement three – What on god’s green earth made Mikasa tell Carla such a thing. Fine, it was far from the worst that they’ve done, but still. It’s not something that you boast about to family members, and Eren would rather bite his tongue clear off than walk up to Levi and say: “Hey friend, did you know that I often tie your little sister up and do all kinds of freaky shit to her?”

“Well, I mean…”

But Carla didn’t even let him finish, another accusation flying Eren’s way.

“And you have a tattoo!”

“You said that it looked cool!”

“Yes but…”, she sniffled on the other side, “You were just a tiny little baby yesterday, and today you have a tattoo and a girlfriend and… s-sex… and…”

The sounds she was making were suspiciously like sobs.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes... It’s…”, he could hear her shaky exhale, “I wasn’t here for such a big part of your life, I missed so much.”

“Mom I…”

“No, it’s my fault, I was the one who decided to leave. But no more. I promise that I’ll be around much more Eren, I want to remember what you do, I want to be a part of your life.”

“You are a part of my life mom.”

“Bigger part then.”

“Very well.”, he chuckled, “Do you want me to come over and talk?”

“No, I know when I’m drunk. Mikasa’s party was great but I feel like lying down now.”, Carla bit back a yawn, “Also, tell her that she looked beautiful today.”¨

“See? Even you tell me that she’s beautiful and you act all surprised when she tells you that we fu-… I mean that we are intimate. Like seriously, did you think that we were in some sort of celibate relationship where we kiss each other on the cheek and sleep in separate beds?”

“Okay Mr. Libido, where are my grandchildren then?”

If Eren was drinking anything, he would spit it out right now.

“Mom! What the hell?”

“I’m just saying Eren, if I die without seeing a single tiny bundle of joy from you and Mikasa, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”

“I…”

“Shush, I’ll get out of your hair now. I love you Eren and tell Mikasa I love her too. She’s like the daughter I never had.”

“Now that would make things rather awkward between us.”

“You know what I mean! Once you finally push yourself to action and marry the poor girl, she’s going to be my in-law anyway.”

“Wait, did you say poor?”

“Good night sweetie!”

And with a click, Carla was gone. Putting the phone down, Eren’s eyes were drawn to Mikasa making her way back towards him, two glasses in hand. She moved through the club with her usual predatory grace, easily weaving through the people there, completely in her element. Eren wasn’t the only one watching her, he noticed, several pairs and individuals stole a look at the enchantingly beautiful goth girl that walked in their midst. Maybe it should have made Eren jealous, but all he felt was a pang of foolish pride in his chest. Yes, she’s so incredibly gorgeous, and she’s mine. Look, but don’t touch or we might have a problem. Or who was he kidding, Mikasa would definitely take care of herself. She was the one who, in high school, broke a hand of a guy who touched her without permission.

Reaching her destination, Mikasa slid down to the booth next to Eren, putting the glasses on the table. A bit driven by all the stares, he immediately took the opportunity to grab a sort of possessive hold of her, angling her face so he could kiss her. Way more aggressive and deeper than necessary, but he was buzzed just the right way not to care. Let anyone see how much he loves her. They were in a freaking BDSM club anyway, this was by far not the worst that happened here.

“Well hello stranger,”, she said once they broke apart, her cheeks all flushed and the black lipstick smeared around her lips, “Didn’t know that you were this grateful for the drink”

Keeping one hand wrapped around her, Eren took a sip of whatever she brought up, pleasantly surprised. It was good, way better than he expected even, as one would not think that a club like this needed an amazing bartender. There were other reasons why people came.

“Mom called.”, he announced, putting the glass back down, “She knows about our public adventures because you told her. May I know why?”

“Eeh, I couldn’t help it.”, Mikasa had an apologetic smile on her lips, “We were playing truth or dare, and it sort of came up.”

Truth or dare? That did sound like fun, and Eren regretted the dumb argument he got into with the other guys at the bar. Pulling out secrets from Hitch or Krista, or hell, his own mother, would have been amazing. Then again, he was here with Mikasa, they had drinks and the show didn’t start yet. So…

“Wanna have a little game of our own?”

“Why? We know exactly what we did.”

“Maybe it’s just an excuse to get you drunk.”

“Ooh, you sly bastard.”, Mikasa’s eyes narrowed, “You’re on.”

“Good, I’ll be taking the first word then.”

Eren cleared his throat, raised his glass, and began.

“Never have I ever been suspended from a ceiling.”

“Cheap shot.”, she commented.

“Could be, but still.”, he tapped her glass, “Drink, shibari lover.”

She did so, revenge forming in her head.

“Never have I ever licked someone’s boots.”

“And you talk about cheap shots.”, Eren clicked his tongue but drank.

“Never have I ever done a pole dance.”, he shot back.

Mikasa’s eyes were calculating as she took a sip.

“Maybe we will have to change that.”, she said before firing her volley, “Never have I ever filmed us having sex.”

“That tape is going to be useful one day. And we have so many more to make…”

Mikasa ignored the tingle that it sent down her spine, frowning at her fiancé.

“Sure thing, voyeur.”

Rolling his eyes, Eren drank.

“Never have  I ever wore cat ears during sex.”

“Yet.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing.”, with a mysterious smile, Mikasa drank.

“Never have I ever been in a chastity cage.”

“How the hell is that fair? You literally can’t even be in one.”

“There are similar devices for women, it’s fair play.”

“But…”

“No buts.”, she pointed at the glass in clear command, “Drink, puppy.”

Eren obeyed, eyes studying her even as he spoke.

“Never have I ever stepped on someone.”

“Oh please, you enjoyed it!”

“Sure did,”, Eren agreed,  “but that’s not the point of this game.”

Mikasa took a swig, a follow-up in her mind.

“Never have I ever come from a footjob.”

“Dirty.”, a sip, and it was Eren’s turn, “Never have I ever been taken against my will.”

“Can you really call it non-consent when I was the one who came up with the idea?”,  Mikasa wondered, clearly just stalling.

“Miki, I still have some of the photos I took of you back then. Should I pull them up as evidence and let the committee decide?”

Defeated by a sound argument, Mikasa drank.

“Maybe we could give it another shot, sometimes soon.”, she said, remembering how strange the experience was.

Terrifying and perfect at the same time, she was scared for her life when the Not-Eren threatened her, he managed to play the role of an abusive bastard so well. Maybe there was something about him being a bad guy in her dreams because at least party he could be such an asshole even in real life. If she begged nicely, that is.

“I’d have to ask Mr. Incognito if he has a free schedule.”, Eren joked, making Mikasa snicker, “But I have a faint feeling that he might squeeze you in.”

“Let’s leave it on open for now, who knows, maybe I will be the one in charge once we get around to the thing.”

That made Eren blink a few times.

“You want to do that to me?”

“Maybe..”, a bit of worry entered her face when she realized that Eren might not be into it. She had to be sure because Mikasa would never force him into something he didn’t want, that was a big No in their relationship.

“Don’t you want me to?”, she asked, but Eren shook his head.

“It’s not that I don’t want it, I honestly just have a hard time coming up with any scenario where I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Tsk, don’t you worry about that. If I want it, I’ll come up with something.”

“Fine by me. Open it is then.”

With that topic solved, it was time to continue their game. Mikasa’s turn, she thought for a moment before she tried her next line.

“Never have I ever deepthroated a strap-on.”

But Eren was having none of that.

“Nah, but you did, don’t you remember the “class” you gave me?”

“That wasn’t a strap-on, it was a vibrator!”

“Close enough. Drink.”

Murmuring about unfair rules and crooked referees, Mikasa drank with Eren mirroring her.

“Never have I ever had anal sex.”, was his put, and Mikasa snorted in amusement. She couldn’t even count how many times Eren was either the giving or receiving party in anal sex, so she called him out on his bullshit.

“Seriously? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”, Mikasa moved closer, whispering, “Slut.”

It was magical how a single word could make Eren’s crotch tingle.

“No need, I did it on purpose.”, he drained his glass, putting it down, “I like the stuff they serve in here.”

Chuckling, Mikasa followed suit, both their drinks empty. Then, just as Eren was about to get up for a refill, the lights dimmed and the show began.

The figure that walked in on the stage was undoubtedly Darius Zackly, and he was followed by not one but two women, the player. One was dark-skinned and the other very pale, almost as much as Mikasa. To contrast their natural look, each wore lingerie of the opposite color, white on black and black on white, complete with high heels on their feet. No one spoke, the trio bowed to the crowd instead, almost dramatically, while two rings descended from above, stopping to hover over them.

Keeping his mysterious air, Darius held out a hand and the pale girl moved, grabbing a rope from the cart in the back and handing it to him. With the silky thing in hand, Zackly began his performance. He worked on the black girl first, coming up with an intricate design. Even the rope was white, Mikasa realized, a stark difference to the model’s skin. First, Darius tied her hands behind her back. The second rope went around her chest, tying her breasts in a very familiar design. Then he guided a rope through the metal ring, one that went from her tied hands to the chest bondage. With that, the ring rode up a bit, forcing the model to stretch her body and anchoring her in place.

“Isn’t the chest bondage the one you used on me?”, Mikasa whispered to Eren, recognizing the shapes.

He studied the way Darius worked the ropes for a moment.

“It is, you have a good eye. Although the binding on her hands is different than the one I used on you.”

“Because you tied me all the way from wrists to elbows.”, she made a tiny frown appear on her face, “I couldn’t move my hands at all.”

“Only the most secure bondage for a beast like you.”, he chuckled, kissing Mikasa’s scarred cheek, “I can’t edge you unless you are properly bound, otherwise you take control of the situation.”

“You better keep those skills up then.”

“For you Miki? Anything.”

The performance continued while they talked, and Darius was now working on the model’s legs. He didn’t touch her right leg, but her left was picked up and bend at the knee. Ropes sneaking around the limb, Zackly immobilized it, and that was it for the black girl. She was now balancing on one leg, but with the ropes pulling her up it wasn’t that much of a strain. With one model done, Darius turned his attention to the pale girl.

Retrieving a few more ropes from the cart, black ones this time, he closed the distance to his partner. Following the same path as before, Zackly tied her hands and chest first, copying the pattern. But then the show changed. He didn’t secure the model to the ring, he made her lie down instead, kneeling and working on her legs like that, with her on the floor. The ring started descending at the same time, going very, very low. Done with the design, Darius pulled the rope up and into the ring, anchoring it. And that’s when Eren realized what was happening.

“He’s hanging her upside down.”

“Ooh, that looks like fun.”, Mikasa poked Eren in the shoulder, “Why don’t you do that to me?”

“Eh, I don’t prefer it. When you are upside down, blood goes to your head quickly, so you have to be very mindful of the time. When I tie you up, I like to go slow, really enjoy you.”

“Hmm.”, Mikasa’s eyes were back on the performance.

She was chewing on something in her mind, and Eren had a chuckle when he realized what it was. So many things that they’ve done and Mikasa still had trouble asking him for something.

“We can try it if you want.”, he offered, making her face light up.

She leaned over to press a chaste kiss to his lips followed by a gentle whisper.

“Thanks, I’d like that.”

Just then the whirring resumed, and the ring began ascending, pulling the pale girl up. Upwards she went, until her whole body was off the floor and hanging from the ring, her blonde hair cascading around her face. It was the hangman position, Eren realized. And when Darius took a step back, both Mikasa and he finally took in the thing Zackly created as a whole. Contrast, that was the centerpiece of his performance. One girl was standing while the other was hanging upside down, both in the exact same position. One was dark-skinned yet wearing white lingerie and tied by a white rope, while the other was pale, wearing black and tied by a black rope. It was bondage, but at the same time it was art, and from the murmur that ran through the club they weren’t the only ones who realized that. The old man was an artist, no matter how you put it.

With a bow from Darius, his performance was finished. Both Eren and Mikasa joined in on the applause that resounded through the club, the show he put on was amazing. Once the ruckus began to die down and everyone got their fill of ogling the beautiful bondage design, Zackly untied the ladies while talking to them, laughing here and there. It was an interesting dynamic to see them like this, relaxed around each other, it betrayed that they all have been in this business for some time.

“Hello?”

As they were both watching the stage, neither Eren nor Mikasa saw the couple approach them. The woman was tall, made even taller by the extremely high heels on her shoes. It was the one that Eren noticed earlier, dressed in a latex bodysuit of the same design as one of Mikasa’s. The man at her side was much less eccentric, wearing jeans and a shirt, but when he nodded his head in greeting Eren saw that there was a collar around his neck, marking him as a property of the lady next to him.

“Hi,”, the woman repeated, “Did you like the show?”

Mikasa took the lead in answering.

“Yes, it was great, very artistic too.”

“That’s Zackly for you,”, the woman smirked, “He is amazing at what he does.”

“But we didn’t come here to fawn over Darius,”, that was the man speaking, nudging his partner, “Did we, sweetie?”

“Right, no, we didn’t. We came to talk to you for a reason.”

“Which is?”, Eren asked.

The woman faced Mikasa when she spoke, the words aimed at her.

“I hope that we aren’t too straightforward, but my husband saw you at the bar, and he was quite taken by you.”

Eren had to bite back a laugh at how Mikasa’s eyes widened.

“H-huh?”, was all she managed.

“We were wondering if you would be willing to do a partner exchange for a night or two, maybe a weekend.”, the collared husband took the word, “If you guys are into it, of course.”

“He’s a bottom, as you might have guessed,” the latex-clad woman followed up, “and from watching you I’d guess that you are the top in your relationship? You have that air of dominance around you.”

“I-I do?”, Mikasa choked out, much to Eren’s amusement.

But he wasn’t spared either, as the woman’s eyes slid over to him.

“You don’t have to worry either pretty boy, I promise that I’d take good care of you. I’m an experienced dominatrix.”

Now it was Eren’s eyes widening. He and Mikasa looked at each other, neither knowing what to say. Seeing their slight panic, the man grinned.

“I feel like we started with a wrong question, we should have asked if you are in an open relationship first.”

“That’s right, our fault.”, the woman agreed immediately, “Sorry if we are making you uncomfortable with this.”

Finally understanding what this was about, Mikasa blushed but reached out, taking hold of Eren’s arm.

“No, we are not open.”, she said, meeting the woman’s eyes, “We are very closed.”

“Yep, just me and her, no one else.”

“Aw, that’s too bad, you guys are something else.”, the woman clicked her tongue, “Oh well, can’t have everything.”

“We will take our leave then.”, the man said, unbothered by the refusal, “Have a pleasant evening.”

With that, he walked away and deeper into the club. The woman stole a last wanton look at Eren before following, her heels clicking against the floor. The stunned silence that came didn’t even get a chance to properly cook before a new figure appeared. Familiar one this time, it was Darius who slid into the booth, grinning at the pair.

“Eren! Mikasa! I knew that I saw you!”

His joy was infectious, and the cold feeling was being melted by his presence alone.

“That was an amazing show,”, Eren complimented him straight off the bat, “You are so good with the rope.”

“Bah, just years of training. Plus judging from our talk, you are pretty good yourself, the forms you wanted to do were rather advanced.”, his gaze went over to Mikasa, “Isn’t that correct, miss Ackerman?”

She nodded, feeling way more relaxed around Darius than the two from before. But his mention of her, Eren’s significant other, combined with how the pair talked about open relationships and brought a question out of Mikasa, one that she was pondering ever since they entered the club.

“Darius, aren’t you married?”

“Sure am.”

“And your wife… does she know about this?”

“But of course, I don’t think that keeping such a big thing secret is a good idea.”, Zackly sighed, “I keep trying to make her come here, but this scene doesn’t interest her at all.”

“So she doesn’t mind you working with other women?”

“Not at all, she knows that I appreciate the art in bondage, not the sexuality.”

“That’s very open-minded of her.”

“I mean, I work in a sex shop,”, Darius shrugged, “I never kept what I like hidden.”

Smart approach, if they ever heard one. Seeing that he satisfied Mikasa’s curiosity, Darius put forward his idea.

“Are you liking the club?”

Two heads nodded to that.

“What about the performance, looked like fun, right?”

“For sure.”

Well then…

“The thing is, you guys could perform here too if you wanted.”

“W-What?”, Eren exchanged a bewildered look with Mikasa, “You’re joking, right?”

“Why would I?”, Darius continued, completely unmoved, “How long have you two been in this biz?”

“A bit over four years at this point?”, Eren guessed and Mikasa agreed silently.

“And I’d guess that you have the skills for it.”

“I mean…”

But they did, all the plays and scenes they did together amounted to a fair amount of skill when it came to the act. Mikasa knew how to maneuver her sub expertly, Eren knew how to tie her up without worrying that he might hurt her. The experience did matter. Having a quick mental conversation, they both agreed in the end.

“See? I’m willing to bet that either of you could easily take the stage. Forgive me for saying, but you two are very, very hot. In fact, I’d go as far as saying that you two are the hottest couple I’ve seen here, and you would be in high demand.”, he gestured around, “If I walked around the club and asked every single person in here if they would perform with you, I’m pretty sure that I could count the number of “No.” on fingers of one hand.”

He redirected his attention to the pair.

“From the various gear I sold you, I’d guess that you are both switches, right?”

This time it was Mikasa who answered, agreeing cautiously.

“See? Even better. The possibilities would be endless..”

This felt like the same conversation they had with the pair from earlier.

“Look, the thing is, I don’t think that either I or Mikasa would be willing to ever perform with anyone else.”, Eren cut into his monologue, “We are very… possessive of one another.”

Mikasa was again just nodding to his words, shuffling closer and wrapping her hand around Eren’s waist. He did the same, surprising her a bit when Eren pulled Mikasa to sit on his lap. Talk about needing to express your attachment physically.

“We are super exclusive to each other.”

Seeing that and hearing her words, Darius grinned.

“You guys are just adorable. This devotion you have, this is rare to see and it’s so beautiful.”

“T-Thanks.”

“But still, if you want, you could totally perform as a pair. Even exclusive, seeing one of you work the other would give the guests something to dream about.”

“Look, we will think about it.”

“Of course! No one will ever force you into anything.”, Darius calmed them immediately, “Your comfort and consent are the most important things here.”

He said his piece, got the offer out, and there were still several people he needed to talk to. So bidding the half-confused half-surprised pair a quick goodbye and see you soon, Darius stood up and disappeared towards the bar. Eren was the one who broke the silence Zackly left behind, rubbing Mikasa’s back in a soothing motion.

“So, what do you think?”

She shifted on his lap, chewing her dark bottom lip cautiously for a moment before answering.

“Ask me a year back and I would say No. Ask me two years back and I’d laugh at you. Ask me three years back and I wouldn’t talk to you for a week. But now…”

“Let’s add it to our pile of open topics.”, Eren proposed, “No need to worry about that now.”

With that out of the way, Mikasa grew more relaxed again. Just when Eren was returning from the bar with refilled drinks, she looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

“We should bring Ymir and Krista here.”

“Why is that?”

“Krista needs a confidence boost. She wants to top Ymir, but she keeps questioning herself, so uncertain about it all.”, Mikasa gestured around, “Being here, I think that it could bring her inner domme out.”

“From what I hear you are sure that there will be a next time?”

Realizing the meaning of her words, Mikasa smirked.

“I would want that. I like it here.”

“Ah, look at us – the quiet goth girl from the back of the class and the grade-a student. How far we’ve come.”

“Indeed, but I’m enjoying these changes. Do you?”

“As if you had to ask. When I’m with you, I’ll go for anything, and do you feel like stopping what we do?”

Mikasa’s black lips curled upwards as she shook her head.

“Hell no.”

This year’s birthday was amazing and Mikasa made sure to thank Eren properly once they got home. But the amazing night would have a sadder continuation because, despite all the great fun that she experienced tonight, Mikasa’s dreams were once again disturbed by an unwelcome visitor.

A nightmare.

[ones-delight]

I unfortunately won’t have therapy until the end of this month (I should have scheduled one earlier this month ugh lmao I thought one later this month would be better) so I’m doing what my therapist suggested, write down all what’s going through my head even if it doesn’t make sense to help bring myself back to reality. lol. I’m very much lost in my own sauce of feelings and thoughts. it’s allllll about my ex again so ugh lmao. My main anxieties are just feelings about my ex and what’s coming up this semester.

I’m currently in my apartment in Iowa City since we’re about to start back up my usual routine. I’ve been here for almost two weeks now which is nice because I’ve been trying to take my time to relax and get myself mentally prepared for this upcoming semester. I’m also low key glad I’m having these overwhelming anxieties right now instead of later this week. I need to ask my therapist again what exactly I am feeling (if it’s like a panic attack because i truly dont know) because I’ve been feeling hella anxious the past few days (in general) and yesterday my anxiety was so intense that I barely ate and I felt sick to my stomach. idk if others have the same too but when I also get hella anxious, all I want to do is go to the bathroom so tmi lmao. I feel this way now and I just cannot stop crying so again, I’m just writing everything that’s going through my mind lmao.

#1) Related to my ex, heart break

Yeah.. I literally keep talking about this/him and I’m glad I have multiple outlets that I can say what’s going through my mind because if I keep these thoughts to myself, I keep spiraling. I’m also very thankful I have multiple strong support systems from people where it truly doesn’t get annoying to them when I keep talking about him/my overall heart break/healing journey. I know I don’t want to burden my friends with my own thoughts (it can be a lot) so overall very thankful for friends, family, and my therapist lmao. 

I think the last time I talked about my heart break was the letter I wrote to him. I wrote it and sent it to him lmao. I also wrote his mom a letter in Spanish because I want to stay connected with her and very thankful she reciprocates the same energy, Apparently, he never received the letter even though I sent it over 3 weeks ago, but anyways yeah that’s a story I will tell later in this post. Anyways, it’s legit easier said than done to completely stop checking on his social media. I was doing great before winter break. Now that winter break has happened (still kind of is for a few more days), I have relapsed where I was checking very often. The break was great since I got to spend quality time with family, however, unfortunately being back in Wichita still floods a lot of my emotions where there are still a lot of memories of him and I that still makes me feel sad (luckily no longer sobbing about but I do still feel some type of way. It’s getting better thankfully). It also hurts that he’s making new memories with his new girlfriend Kylie so I was def feeling all sorts of things. Sorry, I’m trying to go onto chronologize order of events that have happened. I’m jumping back and forth lmao 

First, did I mention his mom called me the day before Christmas? I was SHOOOOOK when I saw her name on my phone. I legit froze because I wasn’t sure if it was actually her so I accidently missed her call. I’m so glad she left a voicemail so I could listen first and immediately call her back LMAO. But basically, she wanted to check in to see how I was doing, wish me and my family a merry christmas/happy new year, and asked if I could come see her. We joked a bit back and forth like how she was learning English for me while I’m learning Spanish for her. lmao. so after this phone call, I wrote her a letter to update her on what I’ve been doing. I wrote it all in Spanish since that’s her primary language so thank god for google translate. overall, I told her about how I’m about to earn my masters degree in may, I’ve lost now 30 lbs of weight/having a better relationship with food, how I’m honestly still hurt about her son cheating on me (I was in my feels. You know if you ever get those feelings like you want your mom? She legit is like a mom to me since my mom isn’t an active part of my life so yeah I guess you can say I got mommy issues but anyways) I also told her that if she’d still like me to come over, I’d love to come over and see her.

Few days go by, I’ve been creeping onto his social media, it stings to see how he has flaunted his relationship with Kylie. It hurts because I keep playing this comparison game because he truly has NEVER allowed me to post about us and he would himself refuse to post about us on his social media. So, just to see how he’s been basically spending every single day with her and posting her throughout all of his social media, makes me feel an extreme type of way. during new years, she had a party at her house where it was him, her, his brother paco (which I was SHOOOK because she met paco and not everyone has ever met paco, who is his oldest brother), miguel and his girlfriend (both are super cute btw), Blake (surprisingly), and Erik. I felt some kind of way because obviously I know they would share a new years kiss even tho they’ve only been dating for literally a month. I dated him for 3 years and NEVER got a new years kiss (because he wanted to be with bros). Valentines day is coming up and it’d be their “two month” anniversary and I just KNOW he’d actually put EFFORT into spending that day with her. 3 years I dated this guy and he never ONCE did ANYTHING for me for valentines day. ok I’m getting more hurt thinking how he’s treating his other girls better than me so anyways BACK TO THE TOPIC

few days go by and I got another call from his mom. I actually picked up this time because I was really excited to hear her voice again. I legit would die for this woman legit #1 mom. She asked if she could see me and I happily said yes. It really means a lot that she still gives me the same energy that she gave me when I was still dating her son. One of the hardest parts of us breaking up was the potential of losing his family too because they are all truly good people and I am NOT the CEO of letting people go lmao. okay back to subject, I had TONS of anxiety driving over to her house because I had so many thoughts. I asked on the phone if 1.) is Lalo there. She said no. 2.) Is Paco there. No, he apparently flew back to California that morning. I was low key hoping paco would be there still because it would be cool to catch up with him but anyways my main concern was if eduardo was there so since he wasn’t, I was like “ok vroom vroom let’s go” lmao. WOWOWOWWO seeing her just made my heart so happy. She def has a lot more gray hairs since the last time I saw her lmao she’s the cutest anyways, I’m really shook that HIS DAD FREAKING HUGGED ME. THIS MAN NEVER USUALLY HUGS ANYONEEEEEEEEEEE. Typically how we greet each other, it’s like a wave from a distance and we obvi acknowledge each other. so WOOOOW I was very thankful and shook he hugged me. Anyways, his mom showed me around the house with the Christmas decorations, I noticed her birds were still doing well, she even showed me her new plants she got lmao. We sat at the dining room table and talked and ate mexican snacks. She has broken English and I have broken Spanish so literally thank god for dualingo because it has helped me. I love how when we are together, we talk really slow and try to annunciate for each other LMAOOO. Anyways, THIS WOMAN ALSO GOT ME A STOCKING filled with Mexican Candy. omg this woman i love her so much. Anyways, I showed my tattoos to her and she legit wanted to murder me lmao but she says she likes them but hates them at the same time. She also sat me down and we had a serious conversation in terms of how she sees me. She said that I am no longer known as lalo’s novia, what I am to her is a daughter. I am evelyn’s sister and yo boi that got me crying in the club because that’s what I would love to have, to maintain my relationship with them . Okay, to kind of speed things up, basically we kept talking about Evelyn’s quinceanera that’s happening this year AHHHHHH, dropped Evelyn off and her friend to a friend’s quince, and his mom took me to eat at paleterias tropicana where I tried elote for the first time and had a jugo verde WOOOOOW SOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOD. literally cannot stop thinking about it. Anyways, random note, I noticed my old K-State beanie in the car and his mom said it was Evelyn’s. It gave me a weird feeling because it was originally mine that he gifted me on our first Christmas together but obviously I knew he wouldn’t keep it so I’m not suprised he gave it to Evelyn. It made me wonder then what did he do to the other gifts that he originally gave me but I gave it back to him once we broke up.. okay that was a tangent, anyways, that was it with the night with his mom and ughhh it was a really fun night and I really am looking forward to seeing her again.

Now fast forward to now-ish, me not doing good of not checking his social media, I got triggered because they now made it “facebook officlal” that they are dating. it triggered me because again, he refused to publicize our relationship and it really threw me off that they’ve only been dating for a month (technically interested in each other since October, started dating November) and already publicizing they are together. they moving hella quick and basically, I got hella bitter. I felt reckless and I texted him. I KNOW I shouldn’t have texted him because I immediately felt a sense of regret after but also low key glad I did text him. ugh i hate me lmao. Anyways, i texted him and he asked if he could call me so I said yes. Luckily, the conversation was better than I expected because it was simply like two old friends catching up. It was a really good feeling even tho I’m honestly still hurt about the way that he treated me. It caught me by suprised when he said that he has talked about me with Kylie and he actually stated that he knows what he did and feels regretful for the choices he made. That was a huge shocker and I do still have trust issues because I try to take things that he says with a grain of salt. He may be saying things to me that I want to hear but it’s not the truth so anyways lmao. Our conversation was good and it really got me thinking what exactly am I doing/how am I really feeling.

I really am happy for him. Yes i’m still deeply hurt and feel a type of way about how he treated me, but I can’t do anything about the past and all I can do is just simply be happy for him. I will always love him without a doubt, but he isn’t my person. I hope this doesn’t come off as selfish but he will never find someone better than me, he is simply finding someone better suited for him. What helps me the most about this is thinking about ME because that’s the situation for him, however, I know I will find someone better than him because I deserve the best.

I felt bad for asking because I am just fucking nosy and I’m glad he was okay with me asking about what happened with his relationship with Lila (the girl he left me for) and how did he start dating Kylie. He shared with with me that even though it was all great in the beginning with Lila (and let me tell you dude, he totally was hella infatuated with her lmao), they started becoming two different people. She apparently wasn’t emotionally there for him when he needed her (IRONICCCCCCCCCCCCC BECAUSE THAT’S EXACTLY HOW HE WAS WITH ME THROUGHOUT OUR 3 YEARS TOGETHER) and she ended the relationship. It did make me sad to hear because everyone needs support and it is sad when you go to someone for support and they don’t give you it, ya know? anyways, he said with Kylie, they’ve been friends for two years (I knew who she was when we were together but they’ve always only been friends since they worked at the Sunflower together. This will sound extremely bad but I never thought about her being a girl to worry about because she did a lot of “white” things that we make fun of white people for and so it kind of shocked me that he is dating her now but anyways) apparently he said that “they were hanging out and next thing he knows is that he kissed her and that’s how they started dating.” dude didn’t want to go into detail which was fine but I’m also in my head like “ok lmao you literally just got broken up by your ex and then immediately start hanging out with another girl? ok” ANYWAYS, I really am happy for him and wish him the best. 

It was cool to hear about what he’s hoping to do. He shared a lot more detail than usual which again caught me by surprise. Anyways, he shared that he is currently looking for a new place to live (a house to rent) somewhere in college hill (conveniently where Kylie also lives lmao) with Erik. He is also hoping to find another job soon because things at KWCH are no longer making him feel happier so he’s looking to see if he can work for a non-profit org which makes me happy for him because I’d also want to do the same. If I’m at a job where I’m not excited to be, I’d want to also try to make a switch. He also shared that junior (martin, his little brother) will be moving to Cali in May to move close to paco which wow made me really happy for them all. Anyways, he shared that he is hoping to stay in Wichita for about one more year and then possibly relocating to KC or somewhere in Oklahoma. i did encourage him KC because it seems that KC has much more opportunities than Wichita and Oklahoma. Only thing we both hate is driving in KC lmao

Okay, so overall, I’m still really hurt about how our relationship was and how it ended but I’m very grateful that I’m doing what is best for me to make progress because this is not an overall easy thing to do, move on. I do feel low key embarrassed that I still am not over our break up but I’m very glad that I know that He isn’t my person. we will and I cannot get back together with him even if he stated that he has “changed” Yes i invested so much in him to be my forever partner and it didn’t work out but that’s okay. I’m always willing to invest in people to be the best version of themselves and it really makes me happy to see people thrive. I truly cannot and will not take him back if there was ever a time where he wanted to give us a second try because I need to remember how he treated me. If he really was always thinking it was me, then he shouldn’t have cheated on me, treated me so poorly. I’m okay with us remaining friends, but as partners in life? that isn’t it. I deserve so much better and the man of my dreams will come. I’m 10000000% okay with being single because I know I need to work on myself so that I can be fully ready for my next. I really wish my next relationship is my one and only, but hey we’ll see. 

so this is already extremely long but I’m very glad I got this all out of me. I know I have other anxieties such as starting school again, which will be my last semester before I earn my masters (FINALLY), RA training coming back up (so me working is coming back), JOB SEARCH. So much is coming up and AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I need to get my head into gear. 

[bvckys-doll]

Freak the Freak out

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x mutant!reader (guest appearance by Alpine)

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Never call a mutant a “freak”. You will regret it.

Warnings: 1% angst, mention of cock warming, a bit of language, Bucky being a cute boyfriend (if that’s a warning) so fluffy/pre-smut ending

Author’s note: Finally I can give you another Bucky one shot. Wrote all my exams and i’m waiting for the final results. Now i can focus on my writing again. So happy. Hope you like this! Reblog, comment, like! Love you! <3

You can find my main masterlist here! (because i’m too dumb to put a link in my bio)

Being a mutant has its perks but also its bad sides as well. Not every day is a good day but not every day is a bad day either. Over the years while (Y/N) lived with the Avengers in their huge headquarters, she had managed to get her forces under control to a large extent. Still, it was never a good idea to tease her. She would not describe herself as sensitive, but there were certain situations where she could not always hold herself back. Like that one time when some guy insulted Bucky in front of her, she almost killed him by accident. Luckily, her friends and her boyfriend stood by her side.

James could understand very well even though he didn't have a secret power to control except his strength. Still he knew how hard it was to control his feelings when it came to his family and friends. (Y/N) also spent a lot of time with Bruce since he mastered the art of controlling your own anger issues.

However, unfortunately, there were situations which could not always be avoided and none of the others knew that such a situation was imminent.

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Violet Finegan was a beautiful and talented young woman but also the daughter of one of the biggest billionaires in the United States, Andrew Finegan, and the new protégé of the Avengers. After her father contacted Tony as they were old colleagues, Tony decided to help him after a very long and extensive discussion with Andrew. Apparently he had made a deal with a certain mob boss and that had put him in a very dangerous position and now he and his daughter Violet had a death threat on their hands.

It had already been two weeks since Violet had moved to the top floor and taken it up completely. Not that anyone was complaining, (*cough* (Y/N) *cough*), but the other members of the Avengers were used to sharing a floor with two others. Why would someone need so much space?

She even considered on bringing her entire household with her and it was annoying. (Y/N) tried to like her. She tried very hard but since Violet wanted everything she casted her eye on, she chose him. James Buchanan Barnes. Or like (Y/N) liked to him: her boyfriend.

From the first moment when Bucky shook her hand and Violet smiled at him a little too long, (Y/N) knew. She knew that girl would be big trouble.

Since her first day at the headquarters, Violet always tried to find an excuse to be alone with James. Sometimes she would ask for help even if Bucky couldn't help her in the slightest - like when it came to the modern technology.

But slowly but surely it was too much for (Y/N)'s liking.

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“James is a really good listener, don't you think?“ Violet was leaning against the wide kitchen island while (Y/N) was about to make herself a cup of coffee. The young mutant had just taken a shower, her hair was still a little damp, after the long training session with Steve, Sam and Bucky down in the training area. (Y/N) was sure she would feel the blows for weeks.

For a short moment, (Y/N) let her eyes wander to Violet who apparently was trying to provoke her with her winning smile before (Y/N) replied with a charming smile on her lips “Well, i should know it. After all, he is my boyfriend, isn't he?“

“Are you really sure about that? The way he's been acting, I'd never assume he had you as his girlfriend.“ Violet chuckled and watched (Y/N)'s reaction carefully to plan her next step. She loved to drvie people crazy over and over again. She knew that she had an effect on men when they were around her and Violet loved it. Nothing gave the young lady more pleasure than that. Nevertheless, (Y/N) tried not to be upset and fished her favourite cup from the shelf, which Bucky had given her for Christmas last year. She took a deep breath and stared at the coffee machine to stay calm before reacting again to Violet's statement “Why? How is James acting?“

“Well...“ Violet began, still smiling and thinking before she went on “he's been pretty attentive the last two weeks i've been here. He always listens to me when I need help or comfort. After I had a nightmare the day before yesterday, he even came to my floor and made me a tea afterwards downstairs in the kitchen. He is such a gentlemen. I was even allowed to play with his cat. She's crazy about me.“

Exactly at the same moment the said cat came toddling into the kitchen around the corner. With one leap, Alpine jumped onto the kitchen island and stretched herself while Violet tried to stroke her fur. But before her fingers could even touch her snow-white fur, Alpine hissed at her briefly and reared up. Laughing, (Y/N) watched Violet as she retreated in horror and watched Alpine jump onto the other dresser and then nestle to (Y/N)'s side. Triumphantly (Y/N) stroked the little one through her white fur coat with a smile on her lips and tickled Alpine behind her ears which she loved above all else.

“Yes, I see it. Alpine seems to really love you.“ she laughed softly as Alpine curled up next to the warm coffee machine and dozed a little. (Y/N) could literally feel it seething in Violet when one of her first lies came to light before (Y/N) asked her “And when exactly was Bucky supposed to have been with you the other day? You know he was with me all night. I would have known if he'd left.“

“How do you know that? After all, he was the Winter Soldier for a reason. You never saw him come or go.“ Violet replied briskly as (Y/N) raised one eyebrow and answered with a smile “Let me put it this way, Bucky was busy with other things at the time. So when I say he was busy treating my pussy, I don't mean Alpine. I know it's really none of your business but James loves cock-warming and if I say I would have noticed it, then I mean it.“

Now Violet was completely speechless and her mouth was open. No one had ever talked to her like that before and she wouldn't take any shit from (Y/N).

“S-still, I wonder what James sees in you. Look at yourself. You're not even pretty. You're...just a freak like little Maximoff and her brother. You've caused us enough trouble for years. We'd all be better off without you anyway.“ Violet growled at her poisonously and glared at (Y/N) with her dark brown eyes.

All of a sudden a glass of water that stood next to Violet burst into a thousand little pieces. Violet cried out in panic when one of the splinters caught her arm. (Y/N) had clenched her hands into fists as Violet held her arm and whimpered softly. With a serious voice (Y/N) turned completely towards her while her eyes light up in a dark blue “No one calls my friends...freaks..“

Fearful Violet retreated towards the door when her gaze caught the scene outside. Through the wide glass facade she could watch as the sky slowly closed in and dark clouds gathered in the sky as a loud thunder could be heard. With eyes widened in fear, Violet's gaze shot back to (Y/N) who now slowly but surely came closer to her.

But before anything worse could happen, some of the other team members stormed into the kitchen. With wide eyes Bucky watched his girlfriend while her gaze was still fixed on Violet with blue glowing eyes. Immediately he went over to them and moved between the, so that (Y/N) turned her gaze to Bucky who calmy reached for her hands which were still clenched in fists.

„Easy, tiger. We don't wanna cause a commotion here.“ he stroked her arms briefly. That's when Bucky noticed how tense she was. Carefully, he put his hands on her cheeks and put his focus on her (y/e/c) eyes as her gaze kept wandering over to Violet. Gently he kissed the wrinkles that had formed between her eyebrows, noticing how she started to loosen up. Slowly he saw the darkness in her eyes dissolving and she calmed down as Bucky watched her and took her hands in his. Soothingly he stroked the back of her hand and kept eye contact with her as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“It's all right, baby doll. I'm right here. I got you. No one's gonna hurt you. We have everything under control.“ he whispered in a soothing voice as a sob came over her lips before (Y/N) buried her face in Bucky's chest and clawed her fingers into his shirt. Calmly he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and kissed her forehead while Violet stood behind them, completely bewildered, not knowing what to say. In the end she was the one being attacked by (Y/N), not the other way around?!

“Miss Finegan? Come with me. We're taking you to Dr. Cho.“ she heard Steve's formal voice behind her and turned to him. Before she could say anything else, he added “We treat all people here with respect. No matter how different we may be. We are all equal here. Tony will see that you're placed elsewhere. Someone who insults or otherwise harms any part of our family has no place here.“

Violet looked at Cap in horror and tried to defend herself “But she started to att-“

“Just get out of here, Violet“ James interrupted her briskly and held (Y/N) in his arms who was holding onto him for dear life. He had to keep himself from getting angry. Without saying another word, Steve led Violet from the kitchen upstairs to Helen's office.

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Later in the evening (Y/N) and Bucky were lying in his bed together, with Alpine lying right between the two of them. They were taking turns in petting her to keep her satisfied. Another episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine was playing on his television but not even Jake's adorableness could distract (Y/N) from what happened before.

At first, (Y/N) didn't even notice how Bucky kept glancing at her as she stroked the white cat's fur, making her purr contentedly. Only after a few minutes did (Y/N) catch his gaze and immediately knew what he wanted. Sighing she looked back at Alpine “Honestly, I don't really wanna talk about it“

“Then let me do the talking and you just listen, okay?“ Bucky sat up properly and leaned with his back against the bed wall which caused Alpine to slip from his lap and cry out in outrage before she attacked Bucky's metal arm and gnawed at it, which didn't bother him of course. (Y/N) stayed on her side and looked up at him as he started “Steve showed me the footage from the security camera earlier before you lost control.“

“I haven't lost control over my powers. I wanted to hurt her. That was on purpose.“ (Y/N) interrupted him immediately and looked back at her hands, which were somewhat scarred from the last mission. Bucky sighed and looked at her “I understand you. I would have done the same thing, but...we have to learn to control our anger. Next time...just kick her in the shins and she'll have a nice bruise.“

(Y/N) smiled to herself and then looked up at him “That sounds like a good alternative. But she is not the only one...I'm sure there are still enough people who think like her. That...we're nothing but a bunch of stupid freaks that get kept around here so we don't blow shit up or anything.“

“Hey...“ Bucky leaned over her and stroked her cheek whereupon Alpine jumped out of his lap and snuggled up on her blanket at the end of the bed. “You are not a freak, baby doll. Not you. Not Wanda. Not Pietro. How many times have you saved people's lives. They should be more grateful. And if anyone calls my beautiful, wonderful, adorable girlfriend a freak again, I'm gonna rip their heads off with my damn metal arm.“

“How romantic, Sergeant.“ (Y/N) smirked as he grinned back at her “Yes, I was a real romantic back in the days.“

Smiling, he leaned down to her and kissed her gently on the lips while she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled at it briefly. A soft growl escaped Bucky's throat as he mumbled into the kiss “Don't start something you can't finish, baby girl.“

“Oh don't worry, sweetheart. I can.“ (Y/N) replied while they continued to kiss whereby she moved her other free hand into his sweatpants. But just before she could go on, she paused as Bucky started to kiss down her neck and collarbone “Wait...if Steve overheard the whole confrontation between Violet and me...then-“

“Yeah, sweet cheeks, he heard everything. He said he'll be permanently damaged because of you because he won't get that scene out of his head.“ Bucky laughed and buried his face in her neck as (Y/N)'s face turned red.

Poor Stevie...

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So i’m thinking about creating a permanent taglist so if you want to be on it, send me an ask or reply to this post! Thanks!

[littledreamybeth]

Angel Daddy

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night so it might make not much sense :D Enjoy!

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, will probably cause heartbreak

Her alarm went off. It rang and rang and rang and rang. There seemed no end. She didn’t turn it off. She had no power to stretch out her arm and shut it off. Instead, she reluctantly opened her eyes, just watching the red numbers depicted on the small device situated on her nightstand. She waited patiently- waited until the shrill, annoying sound stopped echoing through her bedroom. But it did continue. It continued, and she felt like her ears were bleeding. Rage started boiling in her veins, and the longer it took, the more she had the urge to smash the clock down, watching it break into pieces. Just like she had let her heart shatter into pieces. Seeing the broken parts scattered on the ground would bring her the greatest satisfaction, but no matter how much she’d love to do it, she also did not want to go outside to buy another. Being surrounded by people was the last thing she currently craved for.

It had been a while since she had been under people. She couldn’t tell how long it had been, perhaps days, weeks, or even months- she didn’t know. She had lost track of time. Was it Monday or Tuesday? Thursday or Friday? Was it May? Or June already? She really didn’t know. The world outside her apartment went on while hers had stopped. People carried on with their lives, practiced their daily routines and worked hard like a maniac. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had been at work. She had completely isolated herself from civilization, hiding behind the walls of her home.

Home. She scoffed, tears pooling her eyes. Home isn’t what it used to be anymore. A tear had found its way down her cheeks, shortly after the next followed. Then another tear started running, and it went on and on until she became a crying mess, heavy sobs leaving her already sore throat. Y/N was used to crying- it had become a part of her new life. Her fingers dug deep into the cushion she had her head rested on, her face pushed into the soft material to muffle her sobs. The all-too well known pain appeared between her ribs, gnawing on her heart as if something was still there. Literally speaking, she was alive, however, it didn’t feel like it at all. She wondered how she could be if she was already dead inside.

She lifted up her head, then facing towards the empty side of the bed. There was a time where another body was resting on that now cold, abandoned spot. Somebody with strong muscular and tattooed arms holding her, protecting her while she was asleep. Somebody whose heart was wider than the entire universe, too precious for this world. That vital organ, whose owner had been Y/N, was too kind and too valuable. The day it stopped beating was the day Y/N had fallen into an abyss with no familiar arms to catch her. He wasn’t there to assure her that everything was fine. He was no longer there. Gone too soon.

Y/N missed his forest-green eyes and his dimples when he smiled. She missed his throaty laugh and his warm touch. Funny how things can change from one second to the other. One minute you’re the happiest woman on earth, and the minute after your happiness is taken away from you, giving you no chance to spend more time, to create new memories, to enjoy togetherness. Everything happened with the blink of an eye, and now she must mourn over the loss of the man she loved more than anything in this world. She would’ve given everything to feel his soft hands on her- to feel the rapid beating of his heart under her fingertips. Her ears were deprived from his voice- how much did she wish he would call out for her again. The only times she heard his voice was when she cried herself to sleep while listening to the songs he’d left behind.

Her family was worried sick about her. Even though they knew she was going to change and wasn’t going to be their funny, happy, cheerful and vibrant Y/N anymore, they did not expect her to change this drastically. She was basically a walking corpse with no vital force. Her once tanned skin was now pale. Her once bright, shining eyes were now dull and empty. She didn’t talk anymore. She hadn’t used her voice properly for months- only if she really had to. There was barely anyone around with whom she could lead a conversation anyway. She cut everyone out.

Each day, Y/N was taking steps further to depression.

Her parents offered her to visit a psychiatrist, even proposed to accompany her, but she declined. From her perspective, she wasn’t insane, but her family shared different opinions on that matter. They had had to watch their daughter whither away like a rose. Who could’ve known that she was going to change 360 degrees? A young woman, no longer willing to live, but still clinging on to life because she had someone who was dependent on her.

Her love had left a legacy behind- a little baby girl.

A small baby who currently had learned how to stand on her own legs. Her chubby legs- he would’ve loved to gently sink his teeth into the little one’s skin. She was almost one year old and very vocal, babbling things no one could identify. Her first word was ‘dada’, and Y/N couldn’t figure out where she could’ve picked this up from since there was no daddy around. It was probably her sister teaching her niece how to say it- she lived with them to support Y/N, helping her out to make life a bit more bearable.

Y/N did not keep in touch with her in-laws. She couldn’t face them because of how similar they looked to him. It was already hard enough to look at her daughter who was the replica of her father without the need to cry. His mother understood- a mourning mother who sometimes wanted to crawl into a hole and never appear again. But the woman, called Anne, stressed that she wanted to see her grandchild often as possible because the baby girl was the only thing left of her son. She couldn’t lose her. So, Y/N’s sister drove little angel back and forth.

Her attention was now glued onto the large picture hanging on the wall. It was him displayed on it, beaming a smile towards her direction.

If he was looking down at her from above, then he must be very disappointed in her. He would complain that Y/N was barely taking care of herself. He used to a lot in the past because her wellbeing was an important factor for him. He would’ve wanted her to stay strong- especially for the baby.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, wishing that he would answer her. “I’m sorry for being such a failure, for not being strong enough. I can’t… I can’t without you.”

Another sob wrecked her body. “How can I drink or eat, knowing you can’t do it anymore? Tell me, how could I go outside and enjoy things while you’re stripped off that opportunity? You’re everywhere, Harry. In every place, every corner, there is a part of you… I cannot just go out and pretend to be strong as everyone expects when I’m so truly broken… I just can’t…”

She wiped the salty liquid with the sleeve of her pajama bottom. “Why you, Harry? Why does it have to be you?! Why do always good people die?! Why?!”

She couldn’t fathom what Harry did to be cruelly punished at such young age. He had been barely 30 years old when he passed away. One crash was enough to end his life immediately. He was dead on spot. It was a shock for all relatives, as well as for the entire world. Y/N tried to console herself that he at least did not suffer. No pain. Just eternal rest.

“I love you…I love you so much…” Y/N said, “I don’t know when I’ll see you again but please, wait for me…”

The young woman freed herself from the bedsheets and got up from bed. Her sister would be waking her soon anyway. Her head ached terribly from the amount of crying, so she strolled her way to the bathroom to take some medicine. When she passed the nursery, she suddenly stopped. Little squeaks could be heard from behind the door. Her baby daughter was laughing, and Y/N was wondering why. Baby girl should be normally asleep at this time. Curiosity eating her alive, she slowly pushed down the handle and slightly opened the door, taking a peek through the gap.

She furrowed her brows when she saw her angel sitting on her bed, clapping with her tiny hands while gazing at something in front of her. However, there was nothing that Y/N could see. She watched her daughter trying to get up, her fingers clasping the edge of her bed. She bounced on her chubby legs and laughed at whatever made her laugh. Then suddenly, baby girl stumbled backwards and fell down on her little bum, while rubbing her nose, as if someone had poked her. Y/N wanted to interfere, however, her heart skipped a beat when her daughter raised both of her arms to the air and squealed, “Dada, up.”

[vinylhazza]

Ouuuuu ok so like a concept of gray being a mob leader n he has a wife n a child at home and he just came home from killing another person and his wife can’t even looks at him cause she realized she’s not cut out for this life and basically just a shit ton of angst😂love ur writing by the way❤️

k i forgot it said grayson and wrote it about ethan i’m SORRY

she just wanted to make olivia some mac and cheese. that’s all she wanted. she just wanted to sit her three year old on the couch, watch her favorite disney movies, help her eat her favorite food, and have a normal night. she wanted to be a tired mom. she just wanted ethan to come home for once with a smile and clean clothes. she missed his smile. she missed her husband being her husband. she missed the teasing and the energetic joking and the dancing while they cooked in the kitchen.

she didn’t want to be standing in the kitchen, watching ethan toe of his previously white shoes, stained red from the blood of who knows what body. she didn’t want to be stirring the noodles in the boiling pot of water and analyzing, pondering, wondering how many people her husband had killed tonight and what malicious ways he carried the murders out. she didn’t want to see him look at her with that guilty look in his eye while he tugged his bloody shirt over his head on the way to the laundry room and tossed it into an empty basket, shutting the door behind him.

the door was only shut for a moment before he emerged with a new set of clean clothes. this time in a clean black shirt, grey sweats, and fuzzy socks that he never lets a soul except her and a olivia know he has. his usual routine. she didn’t want this to feel normal. and most of all, she hated that their daughter had been gleaming at her dadda the entire time, oblivious to the sinister meaning of his actions.

“dadda!” she squeals out with a giggle so full of innocence in joy it nearly makes y/n sick to her stomach. her arms are raised high in the air, grabby hands ready for him to pick her up just like always. how can she be so pure in a world so evil? so unknowing to her dads sins.

“hello angel, how’s dadda’s favorite girl?” he chuckles, swooping her up from the ground with a kiss her to chubby cheek. he holds her close to his chest, rocking her from side to side while he buries her face in his chest, arms around his neck, eyes closed in content. if only she knew.

she watches him glance to her, a defined eyebrow raised. he’s silent while he rounds the island in the middle of the kitchen, olivia hanging in one arm, while the other wraps around your waist, “and how is my wonderful wife?”

his tone is light, airy, void of anything that indicates he had murdered someone moments, minutes, hours ago. ethan is clean. he doesn’t do messy. not on jobs at least...unless someone is killed. you always know the difference between a hard day and a day filled with death because he always comes in the exact same way: he doesn’t say a word, and acts like everything is fine.

“fine.” that’s all. that’s all she would give him. fine is never fine. anyone with a brain would know that ‘fine’ is literally the opposite of fine. but did he deserve to know her thoughts? would they make a difference? he’s a mob leader. the killing part of the job description won’t change. she knew what she signed up for when she married the man, so did she have the right to say anything now?

“hm, fine...do you wanna talk about it?” he ponders calmly, knowing a storm is brewing and knowing he’s not going to be the one coming out smiling on the other side.

she keeps her eyes focused on the twirling noodles in the pot, trying not to let the tears slip that have gathered on her waterline.

she’s not meant for this. olivia isn’t meant for this. yes, it pays the bills. yes, he does keep her safe. but at what cost? having to hide because she never knows who’s watching? not having her silly, caring husband that she fell in love with? having him come home with the heinous stench of blood after he kills a man with his own bare hands? takes a life because it’s his job. she’s not meant for this and he must know that by now. but how do you tell the love of your life that everything they strive to be is everything you despise?

he wasn’t always this way. he only became mob leader a year after olivia was born. it was complicated, hard, and stressful. he was gone all hours of the night, coming home early in the morning only to leave again before she would wake up. she didn’t see ethan for a month straight at one point. the strain it put on their marriage was...unbearable. not only did it affect her, but it affected their daughter - and that was her main concern.

“ethan there isn’t anything to say,” she sighs, setting the spoon down on the small saucer next to the boiling pot.

“let me put her down and then we will talk okay?” he doesn’t ever stop.

she doesn’t reply, just waits for him set her neatly down on the couch, tuck her under a blanket, and walk quietly back to where she stands leaning against the island. her arms are crossed, brows set in a frown, a tear leaking from her left eye. it breaks his heart to see her like this. and he has a good feeling he knows why.

“okay so what’s wrong?” he grumbles, sinking into a barstool that’s tucked under the island.

“what...isn’t ethan? i’m not stupid. i know what the blood on your clothes means. i just...don’t know how to handle this anymore.” she can hardly speak through the frog in her throat, her tears threatening to spill any minute.

even if it’s a talk, it feels like so much more. it feels like...the end of something bigger.

“look i know that me having this lifestyle isn’t very practical-“

“practical?! look me in the eyes right now and tell me you didn’t kill someone today. look me in my eyes as my husband and tell me you didn’t take another persons life,” she hisses, turing to glare in his eyes with a fire he hasn’t seen in a long time.

he’s noticed lately that she’s looked so...tired. he took it as her taking care of olivia and worrying about him, but he never imagined it took this much of a toll on her. he would do anything to protect them, but that ‘something’ that he’s referring to is the exact reason she is upset.

she’s met with a silence. ethan sits at the island, twirling his thumbs and avoiding her eyes altogether. he can’t tell her that. because he did kill someone. he killed three people today. it wasn’t like he enjoyed killing people, it was just something he had to do.

“what do you want me to say y/n? i’m a mob leader for God’s sake i can’t just be sunshine and rainbows 24/7.” he’s still not fucking looking at her. that only makes her more upset.

she’s sobbing now, getting olivias attention from the tv that plays dora loudly over the speakers.

“momma why you crying?” she chants from the couch cushion, moving to get up and comfort her mother.

“i’m okay honey keep watching your show. dinner is almost ready,” y/n rushes, swiping the tears from under her eyes and giving her daughter the best smile she can muster at the moment. she waits for olivia to settle back into the couch under her blanket before her gaze falls back on her husband that watches her with slumped shoulders and tired eyes. it killed her to see him so worn down so young.

“olivia doesn’t deserve this lifestyle. she deserves a dad that can promise her she’s safe. and as much as you say you’ll keep her safe, you can never truly promise that to her. she’s three ethan, and she’s already watched you come home in bloody clothing more times than i can count on one hand. i have watched you-“ she closes her eyes tight, swallowing her tears, “i’ve watched you touch me with the same hands you’ve killed with...i miss you ethan. i miss my husband. i don’t want this for you anymore. i can see the toll it takes on you please don’t lie and tell me i’m wrong.”

he sits quietly for a moment longer before turning his gaze from his hands to her eyes that flood with more tears.

“baby...i...i don’t know what you want me to do. i can’t just..stop. a mob doesn’t work like that. it’s something that’s controlling and life consuming. i don’t know how to stop. i don’t like this, you think i like this? you think i like coming home and seeing this look of disgust cross your face? you think i like missing olivia growing up? you think i like killing people even if i know they did nothing wrong just to keep our image? because i don’t y/n, but i’m the guy that people come to okay i can’t just stop!” he’s frustrated now, tugging at his hair with both hands. this is hoenstly his worst nightmare, disappointing his family .

“well maybe you should think about your family the next time you shoot a man dead,” she sneers, picking up the boiling pot of water and dumping it into the streamer without looking.

she drops the pan with a yelp when the water splashes over the side and onto the skin of her hand, scalding her. she clutched her hand tight, eyes shut, wincing when ethan grabs her tenderly with worried eyes. olivia is running over with a curious expression, confused why her mother is crying with a low moan. honestly all she wants after tonight is to be alone for a bit.

“baby what happened do we need to go to the hospital?” ethans stuttering out, hating to see his wife in so much pain. the reddened flesh is blistered and sore looking even moment after she spill, worrying him more that she’s grabbing onto her hand so tight.

a nod is the only answer she gives, letting him grab her purse and his keys. the three are leaving the house in a matter of minutes, olivia bundled up in her coat and gloves and her favorite sparkly headband. she’s hanging off of ethans arm while he guides the three of them to the car, opening the door for y/n and frowning when she backs away from the kiss he tries to land on her lips.

“we will be there in just a minute baby don’t worry just hang in there,” he promises lowly, not even touching the radio. they sit in silence while she breathes through the pain, listening to olivia him a silly song about an egg sitting on a wall to distract her.

“ethan,” she breathes, overwhelmed from all of the events that happened already.

“yeah baby? let me park the car and we can head in i promise it’ll be like two seconds,” he’s telling her softly, patting the upper part of her thigh to console her.

“you’re taking the couch when we get home.”

[paintedrecs]

For the fandom talk meme thingy: C (not trying to start drama I swear), I, K, R, and X. =D

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

Hmmm, there are a few ways of answering this. One is by listing all my NOTPs, which would be excessively long and ultimately boring because it essentially boils down to “anyone else with either member of my OTP.” I monoship my primary pairings, so I’m pretty strict on what I do and do not like. 

(With the way fandom is now, I should clarify that NOTP means that I personally do not like a ship and I therefore go out of my way to avoid it - by muting terms, carefully filtering tags and search results, curating my own space, etc. It doesn’t mean I think the ship is badwrong or that anyone else should stop shipping it. It just means I do not ever want to see it.)

This feels a little less specific on that front, though, maybe more just: people like this and I’m meh about it?

So Allydia comes to mind. I don’t hate it, and if the Sterek’s good enough I’ll still read a fic with them as a background pairing, but I don’t ever like it as a romantic ship. While I ship Lydia with lots of different characters, including Cora, I’ve always seen Allison as straight, so I suppose that’s part of it? And I love Lydia & Allison as bffs - I see them as entirely platonic, like Scott & Stiles, so introducing romance just doesn’t work for me.

Another one is Sheriff Stilinski/Peter Hale. I...I don’t understand it. Unlike the last answer, this background pairing will prevent me from reading a Sterek-central fic.

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

This turned into a complicated and kind of roundabout answer, so I’m putting the rest of the questions under a long-post cut!

I stopped frequenting tumblr for two main reasons:

that whole weird purge thing that made me think everyone was leaving, so I just gave up, which might’ve been premature cause it seems like folks are still going strong on here

the emergence of antis, specifically within the Voltron fandom (although they’re everywhere at this point)

There’s a saying in fandom now: 

“Why is the younger fandom generation like this?!??” “Tumblr raised them.”

For me, for years, tumblr was a really wonderful space where I had a lot of great conversations and read very thoughtful threads that helped me to learn some important things about myself, other people, and a world much wider than my own.

But I was an adult when I joined this site, and it really does seem like there’s a whole new crop of kids who have no actual context for ideas like social justice, the need for canonical representation in our media, and a lot of other things that eventually got folded into a big ball of disconnected rhetoric that they now fling as hard as they can at the heads of fandom creators who are committing the ultimate sin of creating content for ships they don’t like.

It’s late, and I don’t feel like getting into a whole Essay Rant about all that.

So on an entirely personal level, I quit running appreciatejack (my Check Please/zimbits/Jack Zimmermann blog) because someone sent me really vile hate for daring to ship Shiro/Keith from Voltron (two unrelated adults in a cartoon). It’s why I turned my ask boxes/anon/chats off on most of my blogs, and then eventually just...got tired of running them.

When I started up appreciatederek, I got a couple asks from people who wanted to know if it was going to be multiship or just Sterek, and when I said it was Sterek, they presumably went off to find other things they were into, because I never heard from them again. Y’know, the reasonable reaction. And then the rest of it was wonderful: finding content for it, and getting responses from people who enjoyed that content.

I thought appreciateshiro would be similar, but it was all so messy from the very start. The Sheith tag was FULL of hate. I was initially checking it every day, trying to find artists and writers and gif-makers to reblog and encourage and support, like I’d done in Sterek fandom, but instead I’d spend literal hours blocking people who came into that tag just to talk about how much they hated the ship.

Every day, I’d look for content for my OTP, and every day I’d come away from it angry and sad and frustrated. I never seemed to run out of people to block. And they never, ever seemed to run out of hate.

It was exhausting. It made me reluctant to go on tumblr at all. And eventually I just...sorta stopped.

So the answer to this question is more, I guess, “fandom made me stop liking tumblr, and in the process I stopped liking most fandoms.”

I’m sure you can kinda tell from the fandoms I’m currently the most invested in.

I love Sterek, and I will always love Sterek. Part of that’s the ship itself, of course, and part is because I had an incredible fandom experience with it. People within this fandom are still really great - always so welcoming and super excited about new content, even so many years on.

Otherwise, my current fandoms are kiiiiinda tiny:

Xanatowen (Gargoyles), which currently consists of exactly 2 people and 12 fics (3 of which are mine).

Trevorcard (Castlevania), which only has ~200 fics on AO3.

Taibani (Tiger & Bunny), which is an oldish fandom with only ~600 fics on AO3.

Remember, I came from a fandom that has SIXTY THOUSAND fics.

So while I feel very lonely and very sad about the low content levels in these fandoms, they’ve also given me the space to let go of some of my fandom hurt & anger and remember what it’s like to just...peacefully love something. I really miss just loving things and talking about loving those things and searching for other people who also love those things without running into....thousands upon thousands of people who HATE that you love that thing.

(Until I wrote all that out just now, I actually hadn’t realized how much this had still been hanging over me, or why I was so hesitant to come back to “reclaim” a space I’d once been super active and happy in. Essay over! Next questions.)

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Answered here!

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Answered here! 

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

Found family. This is probably a big part of why Sterek was my first real fandom, because the idea of Pack makes it incredibly natural to build out relationships beyond just the central romantic pairing. 

It doesn’t have to be a werewolf thing, though. I’m honestly not hugely fond of the whole puppy piles concept - I’m less interested in “biological urges make characters literally physically all snuggle up together in bed” than I am in the actual build of the friendships, and the concept of choosing people who will become the family you’ve been missing for whatever reason.

Maybe it’s reconnecting with biological family, or maybe it’s discovering that your friends have been filling that space for you all along, without you even fully realizing it. (The concept of “home” is another big one for me. Home is where your heart is etc etc.)

And hey! Now I can pull back in another question from earlier: about “pairings” that I might not have initially considered. As I suspected, I do have more! Mostly platonic.

For instance: Derek and Sheriff Stilinski becoming bffs. I thiiiink I can probably tie my ABSOLUTE LOVE of this concept back to HalfFizzbin’s can't be hateful, gotta be grateful. And then Cupboard Love really has to be the source of ALL my alive!Hales feels, which also includes folding Stiles into their family.

Fic is largely responsible for building out Derek’s relationship with Boyd, Erica, Isaac, his sisters...making them into an actual pack and friends and family in the way the show never bothered. And frankly while I don’t like canon!Scott at all at this point, I love his friendship with Stiles in fics, and I absolutely believe Stiles and Lydia would be amazing friends once he got past his crush on her. I’d point to another fic here, owlpostagain’s will to follow through, as the ultimate source for major Team Human feels.

So yeah. I’m always going to be drawn to stories about family, in whatever form that takes, particularly if it’s one that’s a little bit off the normal white-picket-fence path.

In Tiger & Bunny, it’s Barnaby joining the Kaburagi family, and learning how to be a dad and a friend to his new husband’s daughter.

In Gargoyles, I’m completely obsessed with the (canonical!) idea of a family that consists of a man, his wife, their son, and the chaotically loyal fae babysitter/tutor/third parent. It is not a stretch to tweak this the tiiiiiiniest bit to turn it into a nontraditional family structure of a man, his wife, his son, and his fae boyfriend. Honestly.

In Castlevania, the fic that made me sob my eyes out at one point does something the show would absolutely never. It gives Alucard the time to rebuild his physical home while befriending the people in the little town that crops up around it. It’s about Trevor and Alucard falling in love, but it’s also about them making a place for themselves in a world where that kind of comfort and stability and friendship is so badly needed.

I think we all kinda need that in our world right now. So I love being able to find it in fic, for the characters who’ve grown to mean something to me.

[dinrelsanddragons]

A drabble I wrote in early December. Takes place prior to Twilight Princess.

In her little dress, Noel carefully peered around the corner, hoping no one would see her. In truth, several people saw her, but not the two she meant to avoid, for they were quite distracted with each other.

Mama. Papa.

It had been a while since they had talked. Vair hadn't come home for a week now, choosing instead to sleep in the barracks with the other knights. Shanzira couldn't fathom why he would do this– she hadn't done anything, not a thing in years, that would drive him away from her. After first realizing her attractions to him, she'd attentively noted his dislikes so as to avoid them.

"Vair?"

Even as she approached, on those ginger tiptoes that pointed inward with anxiety, she feared this wasn't going to go well. "Vair, please talk to me. What's wrong?" In his years of experience at his post, Vair knew how to ignore distractions and focus on his job. Never before, however, had that distraction been so personal– his wife, the mother of his daughter, his beloved. On the verge of tears, at that. He didn't know what to say, and it was only the thought of his duty that kept his expression straight.

Shanzira gave him a few seconds for good measure. She wondered if he needed a moment to compose what to say to the wife he had been avoiding. But that seemed not to be the case; he seemed intent on shunning her as if they'd never met. "What did I do, Vair? What's going on? Noel misses you." Not returning to the arms of his wife meant not seeing his daughter. His eyes flicked to a corner, around which he could just see a tinge of red hair– oh, goddesses, the girl had followed her mother here. In truth, Vair didn't know what to do. Avoiding Shanzira had been the simplest solution to his problem, but a temporary one, apparently.

He wondered how 'temporary' this marriage was to be.

His wife was under investigation. They had met on the field of battle years ago, Vair saving Shanzira from the horde of monsters and gifting her his halberd for her own protection. But there were absolutely no records of her existence prior to that. None of residence, none of birth, not even gossip about a red-haired, round-eared woman. Anywhere.

He had wondered how this had not been apparent before. How it was that this literal nobody had been able to create an existence for herself, a comfortable life in a crucial position– married to one of the king's guards. She had never spoken of her past, but focused solely on the present. Never of the future, though. Vair had been the one to bring it up, when he had proposed to her. He had never once thought to look the other way...

She had crafted the perfect position for a spy. That was the king's fear. Vair was the perfect conduit to receive information about the royalty from. He was careful never to repeat any sensitive information he accidentally overheard, and he thought he had vetted Shanzira for any sign of a volatile temperament.

In truth, he couldn't imagine her to be anything but who she said she was, who he had seen her be. An artist, a wife, a mother, a storyteller...

"Vair, can't you even look at me?" Her voice shivered with grief from what felt like some distance away as he was in his thoughts, despite there not being so much as a foot of distance between them. A small hand rose up as if to touch his face, but pulled back quickly, as Shanzira feared what his boundaries on the job might be. "Please stop this. Please come home. Talk to me again. Spend time with your daughter, let her see her playmate again."

Zelda. Goddesses, the princess and Vair's daughter got along like two peas in a pod. Shanzira would recite stories to them and the children would listen attentively, mesmerized by every word. Those stories were laced with information only the royals could have known, was what the king told Vair. Shanzira knew such facets and details that it was as if she had personally lived through those events... Vair had had to choose where his loyalties truly lay, and they were with the king. But it was a painful choice to make, and every night he had lost hours of sleep thinking, wondering: Had he been right? Should he have protested further the king's decision? To do so would have been to risk his livelihood... but now he risked his heart.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vair witnessed tears snaking down his wife's face. He had only that brief moment of warning before she turned around and began to sob, unable to stand looking at his face anymore. She tugged her hood over her face and exited, walking briskly to the point that the now-apparent Noel had to run to keep up.

From behind the door Vair guarded, he faintly heard something. If he had to take a guess, it was a deep sigh... from none other than the king himself.

He felt a twinge in his chest. Even the king had his regrets. Perhaps, then, he would be willing to listen to reason, assuming the investigation bore no fruit that would incriminate Shanzira. Perhaps traces of an idyllic past could be brought up, but from what Vair had been able to tell, there was simply nothing to find. As if she had sprung into existence on the day they'd met.

A cry rent him from his thoughts. A child's wail, filled with pain. His child's wail. "Paaapaaaa! Want Papaaaa! Mama, pleeeeeease!"

He closed his eyes, gently as he could when he was so aggrieved. Tears streamed down. Would that his uniform had the luxury of a hood like his wife had, that he could have hidden them...

PART 2

For over a week, Shanzira had been unable to bring herself to put pen to parchment. Inspiring as emotions could be– even the negative– there was nothing artistic about what she felt. She could not continue to write her stories– she had no motivation when she had only Noel to tell them to– and she had thrown out every charcoal sketch she had thus far made. There was nothing to do regarding her work but place her head to her desk and try not to cry. If she hadn't had Noel to look after, she might have gone mad. Something about being responsible for another person kept her sanity in check.

As the little one napped in a chamber adjacent to Shanzira's study, she heard a click. The distinct sound of a doorknob turning. Shanzira twisted around in her chair, wondering who it could be. Perhaps someone had arrived with divorce papers. She prayed not. Or she was under arrest. Or something worse yet... As the door began to open, Shanzira leapt to her feet with a hand on the hilt of her dagger, ever prepared to defend herself. Her thoughts went to the halberd displayed on the wall, with a twinge of pain– the same halberd her husband had given her so long ago.

The door swung wide, and Shanzira dropped her arm by her side in shock. How could she have seen this coming, a visit from the king himself? Trembling in fear and anticipating the worst, she hurried to a kneel– praying that a show in sincerity and loyalty would mitigate whatever punishment lay in store for her.

She betrayed a single glance back up, and noted her husband behind him. What was this? What could it be?

"Rise, Lady Shanzira. I would speak with you."

It called back to her youth, of being summoned to authority figures to be scolded and punished. When being in trouble was the worst imaginable fate. Regardless, Shanzira stood back up, unsteady at first but regaining her balance quickly enough. Averting her eyes, she didn't see the king's expression. Nor did she really know his face that well. She had no indication apart from tone of voice of what his intent might be.

"You have presented quite the quandary of late, a quandary that we should have seen long ago. You are the spouse to a royal guard, and on occasion a caretaker of Princess Zelda. Yet there is no information on you prior to five years ago. Your history cannot be tracked by any means imaginable, though prior to now it has not been a problem. Thus you have eluded any kind of investigation... until your role as my daughter's storyteller began."

With that final sentence, a revelation hit Shanzira like a blow from her husband's claymore.

The dazed look on her face must have betrayed her thoughts, as the king cleared his throat before continuing. "Your tales began as fanciful and clearly works of a creative imagination, though at the apparent request of your daughter turned more historical. So historical, in fact, that they hit the nail on the head. They could not be more accurate. Or detailed. Such information has been privy only to members of the royal family until you appeared. You have paid few visits to the royal library, and you could not possibly know the location of the secret library. This was why I ordered my agents to look into your past. I do not like unanswerable questions."

"They have found nothing. There are no records of you, or anyone like you, existing anywhere. Even one so close to you as your own husband and daughter have no inkling of where you came from. My final recourse is to turn directly to you. So, you will tell me... and we will be here as long as it takes to hear the truth out of you."

A silence followed.

Where to begin. Shanzira thought briefly of Noel, still asleep in her crib, and wondered if she might wake before she finished telling her tale. A tale she had no choice but to share, at this point. She chanced a look to Vair's face, over the king's shoulder, and noted a regretful expression, his eyes cast down and to the side and his brows tented.

"I don't know if you'll believe the truth." She wanted to be clear with that. "I hail from a very strange and technologically advanced world, with no magic or monsters. There is but one intelligent species of life. In this world, the world of Hyrule is known but considered entirely fiction. Stories are told from the viewpoint of the hero, of his struggles against evil. They span many different eras and ages. They are stories that I followed intently.

"I didn't know what to think when I awoke on a battlefield, surrounded by monsters. If Vair hadn't been there that day, I would have died without a clue. I did my best to blend in to my environment and say nothing about this bizarre place I came from, or I'd be written off as a madwoman. I was extremely lucky in that the same man who defended me from monsters also found me a place to live and gainful employment. Not to mention, we ended up falling in love and having a kid. I suppose I couldn't have it all for long, though."

Her eyes drifted downward at the last sentence. She didn't believe it likely, even now, that the king would believe her. And Vair, his regretful expression? It could have meant anything.

"So you do not know how you came to be here." The king scratched his chin thoughtfully. Shanzira had definitely explained the cause of her knowledge, but her presence was a mystery. "Very well."

Eh? Shanz risked a glance at his face, but failed to read his expression in the brief time she saw it. "I am not satisfied, but for now, it will be enough. I understand this investigation has caused your husband and you much grief. I will allow you to resume watching over my daughter... if you know Hyrule as if it were a book, then perhaps your knowledge may come in useful."

"Your Majesty," Vair piped up, "does this mean–?"

"Yes, Sir Vair. You may return to the arms of your loving wife."

Oof!

Shanzira almost fell over from the force with which Vair collided into her, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her upper back and the other resting atop her head. Shanz could barely breathe with her face trapped in her husband's chest. She pushed against him just enough to look at his face, and saw radiant joy upon his features, to the point of tears glistening in his eyes.

"I'm never doing that to you again. Never."

Shanz still needed a moment to process it all, but for now... it was welcome to have Vair back.

"He ordered me not to say a word," he explained at the quizzical look on Shanz's face. "He tried to hide the whole thing from me... but I could see you were being watched."

"Indeed." The king almost chuckled, or perhaps scoffed. "He was beside himself when he came to me with his little discovery. I have work to return to."

"Of course, Sire." Vair didn't so much as turn his head to the king, but kept his eyes focused on Shanzira. Silence followed but for the king's footsteps as he exited, and once those faded from earshot, Vair released Shanzira. "I'm so sorry."

She wasn't a hundred percent sure she had forgiven him yet, but... he'd been between a rock and a hard place. If nothing else, Shanz could forget. She raised a hand to rub out the tension between her eyebrows. "I'm still upset over it, but I at least understand. And you might like to know that Noel is asleep right now..."

Vair blinked. "What... does that have to do with this?"

"I will tell you," Shanzira answered lowly. "It has to do with the fact that you're coming with me to the bedroom. And we're going to be there for a bit while you pay me back for over a week of loneliness..."

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot “Life Under Fire” (Rated PG13)

After years of trying to make his way on Broadway, Blaine found his calling in a place his husband Kurt would have never expected - as a firefighter. Living in Southern California, fire season can be treacherous. There's always one call that makes him consider throwing in the towel.

Tonight's call is one of those. (3381 words)

This is the first of three prompts I wrote for @darriness. I will get the other two up soon. Thank you for your patience :)

Written for Prompt 1: Hurt/comfort fic where Blaine is a fireman and goes on a call that ends badly, with a little inspiration from the show 'This Is Us'.

Read on AO3.

Kurt knows when his husband comes home, knows when his SUV reaches the end of the driveway long before he pulls it into the garage. After forty-eight hours away, Kurt’s whole body becomes hyper aware of him - from his key sliding into the lock, to his footsteps on the wood floor, to the exhaustion-laced intake of his breathing, and, sometimes, the smell of wood smoke in the air. Even if Blaine takes the time to shower at the station before he heads home, smoke has a way of clinging to his hair and his skin, seeping into his clothes like an overused cologne …

… especially when Blaine has been immersed in it.

The Ander-Hummel family had been fortunate. They hadn’t had to contend with that smell for the first part of the year. Winter had lasted longer than normal, spring had been mild. Even the beginning of summer had been kind. A few flare-ups – one electrical fire contained to a well-insulated garage; one grease fire that began hot but burned down on its own; one car overheating on the highway, stopped in the second lane on a day with no wind so it didn’t spread to the outlying brush. But that lucky streak ended with a vengeance when morning temperatures soared into triple digits, and drought-ravaged landscapes started catching fire at the drop of a hat.

Or a cigarette.

Kurt checks his cell phone for missed calls or messages. A second later, he checks again. Nothing. Not a word. Not an ‘I’m alright’. Not an ‘I love you’. And definitely not a ‘Be home soon’, which Kurt has been waiting for for hours. It’s been a long night for Kurt. A longer night for Blaine, he knows, but with Blaine in the thick of work, at least he has something to occupy his thoughts.

Kurt has nothing but his thoughts, and that makes shifts like this one a nightmare.

Kurt didn’t pace or fuss while their daughter Tracy was awake. He kept his calm façade intact for her sake. But she’s a smart girl. At only six, she knows what’s up, hence the constant sneaking off to her parent’s room to check the emergency scanner under the guise of using the bathroom.

If she genuinely had to pee as much as she claimed she did that night, Kurt should take her to see a doctor.

So apparently his adorable daughter had created a façade, too; one that hid her fear as skillfully as Kurt’s hid his. This way, Kurt presumed, he wouldn’t have to worry about her while he was busy worrying about Blaine. Kurt was proud of Tracy for it, but it made him sad, too. A girl Tracy’s age shouldn’t have to worry about making life easy for her father. He should be cradling her in his arms and reassuring her that everything is going to be alright.

And he intended to, once he knew everything would be alright.

The second he put Tracy to bed, his vigil began.

Kurt thought he’d eventually become used to this. He’d be the cool spouse, the strong spouse, who had so much faith in his husband’s abilities that several days alone would become old hat for him. In fact, he’d enjoy it. He’d clean, he’d organize, he’d get so much stuff done!

But that’s not the way this works.

Not in Southern California, where they have one thing that other states Kurt has lived in don’t.

Wildfire season.

As far as Kurt could tell from what he heard over the scanner, there were no really worrisome fires burning that night. Blaine had only recently returned from fighting a big fire in L.A. But before Kurt could settle into the idea of Blaine home and safe, he was called out again. Not as far as L.A., but somewhere remote. Somewhere Kurt won’t get many updates. Somewhere Blaine’s phone service cuts out even on a good day.

When 3 a.m. rolled around, Kurt was sure he wouldn’t see his husband until the afternoon, but he’s here. He’s finally home, which means he’s alive.

And the last thing he needs to see is Kurt pacing like a mother hen.

As relieved as Kurt feels, the living room becomes heavier when Blaine limps into it, and though he looks like whatever happened to his leg hurts like hell, he walks right past the first chair in the room and into his husband’s arms, resting his weight on him, giving Kurt his burden to bear for a little while.

“It’s alright,” are the first words past Kurt’s lips, but they mean so much more. They mean I love you, and I’m so happy to see you, and thank God you’re home! Do you know how worried I was? But Kurt’s prayers have been answered. His husband is home. Now’s the time for Blaine to recover from whatever happened tonight.

Kurt doesn’t push. He takes his cue from Blaine. He rubs his husband’s back until Blaine’s grip on his body loosens and his chest stops shuddering.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Blaine’s breathing hitches, a kneejerk response on his lips, but he doesn’t give it. A few false starts later, he says, “No … Yes … I …”

“Come on. Why don’t we sit? You must be exhausted.” Kurt tries to step out of Blaine’s embrace, but Blaine refuses to let go, so Kurt walks them over to the sofa and sits them both down. “Deep breaths. Just … take your time. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”

Blaine nods. He adjusts his position on the cushion, maneuvering Kurt so he stays close beside him. Blaine is unbearably handsome in this low light, and Kurt missed him so. All he wants to do is kiss the pain away, kiss him so he forgets everything. But just when Kurt decides to do just that, Blaine speaks.

“We …” He stops. His voice sounds ragged, like he’s been crying. He takes a breath in through his nose and clears his throat, but it doesn’t help. “We were called to a house fire. Just … just a stupid house fire, burning for a while with no reported complications. It was located up past Julian, so it took us a while to get there - traffic and whatnot. We probably could have let it burn itself out. There were no other structures around. It was practically rubble when we got there.”

“Was it empty?” Kurt asks, hoping against hope that something else is making Blaine’s throat tense up and his shoulders shake. Maybe he hit a dog on the way home. That coupled with a long two days away from home might make him emotional.

Blaine shakes his head.

Kurt sighs.

No such luck.

“There was a family – mom, dad, two sons and a daughter. Triplets. Can you imagine? The dad woke up to the smell of smoke.” Blaine looks at his husband, his cheeks damps, a poignancy in his eyes Kurt doesn’t understand. “He went from room to room, rescued his kids and his wife.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Kurt says, hoping for a smile. He gets one, but it doesn’t last long.

“They were out of the house, Kurt. They were safe. All that was left for them to do was sit back and watch their house burn, right? But no. He goes back for the cat! The damn cat! I mean, it’s a cat! I love animals as much as the next guy, but you’re out of the house and alive! Leave it behind!” An indignant meow scolds Blaine from over his right shoulder. He turns his head and sees the thoughtful green eyes of their tortoise shell kitty glaring at him in the dark. “No offense, Brian,” Blaine says, pausing to reach out and offer their pet a scratch between the ears. Brian accepts, tilting his chin up and purring loudly. Content with Blaine’s apology, Brian leaps off the couch and leaves him to finish his story. “The cat belonged to his daughter, so I get him going in after it … but I don’t get it. The life of a parent outweighs the life of a pet any day. But he came through the front door with that cat in his arms right as we pulled up, and I’ll tell you … I went a little teary eyed. He looked like a superhero. And it wasn’t for show. He was a genuine guy. Compassionate. Humble. He reminded me of Finn, the way you used to describe him back in high school, remember? Like Superman?”

“Yeah. I remember,” Kurt says, his heart sinking with the feeling that he knows where this story is headed, and why it hit Blaine so hard.

Kurt’s stepbrother Finn meant the world to both of them.

He died a year after graduating high school.

“He was healthy, Kurt. He was strong. We sat around with him for a bit, joking while EMTs took his vitals. He was tired but in good spirits. He looked fine. He mentioned something about being between jobs, and we tossed around the idea of him joining the department. Captain even invited him out for a beer. They took him back to the hospital as a precaution, because of the amount of smoke he’d inhaled. That’s all. It wasn’t until we got back to the station that we heard.”

Kurt puts a hand over Blaine’s. Blaine looks as steadfast and strong as he always does, but Kurt feels him trembling straight down to his shoes. “Heard what?”

Blaine takes a breath, then another, gulping hard to keep from sobbing. “He’s … he’s dead, Kurt. The ER doctor said he had something wrong with his heart, something he was most likely born with. According to his wife, he never knew. But after inhaling all that smoke, he went into cardiac arrest. It happened the second they rolled him into the hospital. And … they lost him. There was literally nothing they could do. Had they known about it earlier, if he’d had it treated, maybe he would have had a chance.” Blaine looks at Kurt, disbelief deepening the lines in his face, lines that hadn’t been there three short years ago. “Kurt - it took the blink of an eye. He went in and out of that fire what? Five times, and not a scratch. Not even a burn worth mentioning. The man was barely in his thirties. He had a wife and three children, and now … they have to live the rest of their lives without him.”

Kurt leans in, rests his head on his husband’s shoulder. Before he says anything, he offers a small prayer of thanks to anyone who might be listening that his husband came out of this okay. That he’s here sitting beside him, telling him this story, instead of Kurt getting that phone call he dreads will someday come. “I’m so sorry, Blaine.”

Blaine sniffles. “Don’t feel bad for me. Feel bad for those kids who have to grow up without a dad.”

“But I do feel bad for you. This obviously affected you.”

“Same crap, different day, you know?”

“I know. And I know that what I’m about to say is going to sound horrible, but you can’t save everyone, no matter how much you want to. That man - he made the decision to go back into that house. Even without knowing about his heart, he understood the risks of running into a burning house.”

“But maybe … maybe if we’d gotten there a few minutes earlier ...”

“I’m not a doctor …” Kurt hugs Blaine harder, trying his best to hold him together “… but I don’t think that you guys showing up late made a difference. It was the smoke he’d been breathing that triggered the cardiac arrest. It was in the air while he rescued his family. Unless you could somehow psychically know that house was going to light on fire, and could get there before it happened, there’s no way you guys arriving sooner would have done any good.”

“But he was fine, Kurt,” Blaine insists softly. “Everyone was fine. This … this was a victory. And then, out of nowhere, it was pulled out from under our feet.”

“I know. I know what that feels like,” Kurt whispers, the memory of his own pulled rug fresh in his mind after decades. After his father survived his first heart attack, then his second, then his first cancer scare, then his second, Kurt thought he had his ducks accounted for, lined in neat little rows where he could keep an eye on them, anticipate their every move, make sure they stayed safe. But there was one duck he hadn’t accounted for. No one had. While Kurt was worrying about his father, out of nowhere, his stepbrother – one of the strongest, healthiest men he knew – died. It came out of the blue, without any warning.

Kurt has been haunted by what ifs ever since.

“I … I just don’t know how much longer I can do this, Kurt. I don’t know how much longer I can give my all and still fail, especially when the price might be someone’s life.”

“What do you want to do?” Kurt asks, excitement tying his stomach in knots. Blaine mentions retiring from time to time. He usually sleeps on it, then brushes it away, but it’s been coming up more frequently. Kurt hopes that’s a good sign. “Do you want to try something else? Go back to music? Teaching? You know that whatever you want to do, I’ll support you 100%.”

Blaine folds his hands in his lap and stares at his laced fingers, the thought of quitting so weighted, it bows his shoulders. “I can’t … I can’t quit. You know the department’s strapped for firefighters as it is.”

“The department may be strapped now, but there will always be recruits. You’re my priority. What do you want to do?”

Blaine continues staring at his hands, confusion and frustration embedded in every inch of his body. “I want my life to mean something.”

“Oh, honey. It does mean something. You mean everything to me and Tracy.”

“I want it to mean something to me. I gave up acting and music because I thought … I thought there was something better. That there was something more important I was meant to do. But what if I was wrong? What if I’m putting us through all of this stress and heartache for nothing?”

“Well, if you were wrong, better to figure it out now, right? While you’re young and healthy. While Tracy’s little enough that uprooting her whole life and moving her to, say, New York, won’t have too much of an effect on her.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, albeit halfheartedly. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s … that’s something I should consider. It really is.”

“And … will you consider it?”

Blaine looks at Kurt, his eyes shimmering with hope, and smiles. “Yes. It is. I promise, it is. To tell you the truth, I consider it all the time – you, me, and Tracy, going back to our old neighborhood, maybe even our old loft, putting her in one off those niche elementary schools in The Village while we go back to writing musicals only you and I were ever meant to star in. Hmm.” Blaine chuckles, relaxing with the memory. “Wouldn’t that be a life?”

“Yeah.” Kurt kisses Blaine on the forehead as his eyelids grow heavy, sorrow finally taking its toll. “That would be a life.” Kurt would love that. He would love it if Blaine woke up in the morning and decided to retire from the fire department. If he went back to writing music and playing at coffee shops until the world realized what an amazingly talented man he was.

But that’s not the man Blaine is anymore.

Kurt remembers the day Blaine decided to become a firefighter. That day, and the whole week leading up to it, was a perfect storm Kurt never foresaw.

Kurt and Blaine thought they had their plans cemented back in high school – back in the days when they knew everything.

A shoebox apartment.

NYADA.

And Broadway.

That’s what they wanted, down to the letter.

And they tried. They gave it everything they had. They auditioned for every role in every new musical or play. They got some background parts, mainly non-speaking roles, but, in the end, they were drowning. They had to sell Kurt’s designer clothes and some of Blaine’s guitars to pay their rent, and they ate whatever the church down the block handed out once a week. Then, one day, Blaine walked through a commercial shoot, and he was discovered. Hired on the spot to star in the pilot for a brand new TV show filming in Los Angeles.

Since their lease was up anyway, they packed their things and moved. It stung Kurt to think that they had no future in New York, a future he’d been dreaming of most of his life, but he held on to the hope that they’d make their way back.

Living in L.A. worked out for a while. They got everything they wanted, only not in the ways they’d wanted it. Kurt didn’t have the same luck finding work in the entertainment industry, but he continued designing, continued sewing, rebuilding his iconic wardrobe with his own creations. He gained a sizable following online and began taking commissions. He became something of a social media influencer. Every day, companies offered him tens of thousands to post their products on his Instagram feed.

The day Kurt’s old boss Isabelle offered him a center spread in Vogue highlighting up-and-coming independent designers, Kurt knew he’d succeeded.

Blaine had become a success, too, but Kurt noticed him start to drift. Blaine said that he was happy, but he didn’t seem happy. There were days Kurt swore Blaine had been happier in their New York loft, struggling between school and work to pay their electric bill, than he was as the lead on a breakout sit-com.

After they adopted Tracy, Kurt thought things would get better. And they did. Blaine loves Tracy. He’s an incredible father. But during the times he spent alone, things started falling apart.

He didn’t know how to love his life when he was alone.

They almost lost their house, and probably could have lost their lives, when a scented candle caught one of their kitchen curtains on fire. Blaine and Kurt got Tracy out of the house mere seconds before the fire trucks pulled up. The three of them stood out front and watched the blaze Blaine thought would devour everything they owned snuffed out within minutes. In those moments of uncertainty, and then triumph, something in Blaine clicked.

A sense of purpose.

He remained mum about it for weeks, mulling it over, thinking about the ramifications of leaving his television career behind to become a firefighter. By the time he told Kurt, one thing was certain.

Blaine had found his calling.

The network renegotiated his contract numerous times before reluctantly agreeing to write him out of his show. Roughly four months and six-hundred hours of training later, Blaine was a full-fledged firefighter. And he was good at it, straight from go. Blaine earned less than he did as an actor, but they had more than they did as fresh faced high school graduates living in the city.

At least then, even when the pipes froze over and they had next to nothing to eat, Kurt slept better at night.

Better than he’ll sleep tonight.

Blaine, on the other hand, will sleep like the dead. He’ll use the next few days to re-evaluate his life. He’ll fix some stuff around the house that doesn’t necessarily need fixing. He’ll help Kurt in the garden and make cookies with Tracy. He may even write a song or two.

He’ll be happy. Or he’ll look it from the outside.

But knowing Blaine, he’ll slough this off the way he has a thousand times before, and the next time his cell phone rings, he’ll go back to work.

And Kurt will go back to pacing the floor, waiting for his husband to come home.

[oscopelabs]

Elvis, Truelove and the Stolen Boy: The Tragic Machismo of Nick Cassavetes’ ‘Alpha Dog’ by Amy Nicholson

[Last year, Musings paid homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to films we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Our first round of Produced and Abandoned essays included Angelica Jade Bastién on By the Sea, Mike D’Angelo on The Counselor, Judy Berman on Velvet Goldmine, and Keith Phipps on O.C. and Stiggs. Today, Musings concludes our month-long round of essays about tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

A decade before the presidency that elevated insults like “betacuck” and “soyboy” into political discourse, Nick Cassavetes made Alpha Dog, a cautionary tragedy about masculinity that audiences ignored. Time for a reappraisal. Alpha Dog is about a real murder. Over a three-day weekend in August of 2000, 15-year-old Zach Mazursky—in reality, named Nicholas Markowitz—is kidnapped and killed by the posse of 20-year-old San Fernando Valley drug dealer Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch) with a grudge against Zach’s older brother. No one thought the boy would die, not his main babysitter Frankie (Justin Timberlake), not the girls invited to party with “Stolen Boy,” and not even the boy himself, played with naive perfection by Anton Yelchin, who played video games and pounded beers assuming that his new captor-friends would eventually take him home.

Cassavetes’ daughter went to the same high school as Nicholas Markowitz. The murderers were neighborhood kids and he wanted to understand how fortunate sons with their whole lives ahead of them wound up in prison. The trigger man, Ryan Hoyt—“Elvis” in the film—had never even gotten a speeding ticket. Prosecutor Ron Zonen hoped the publicity around Alpha Dog would help the public spot the real-life Johnny, named Jesse James Hollywood, who was still on the lam despite being one of America’s Most Wanted. So the lawyers gave Cassavetes access to everything: crime scene photos, trial transcripts, psychological profiles, police reports, and their permission to contact the criminals and their parents. Cassavetes even took his actors to meet their counterparts, driving Justin Timberlake to a maximum security prison to get the vibe of the actual Frankie, and introducing Sharon Stone to Nicholas Markowitz’s mother, a broken woman who attempted suicide a dozen times in the years after her son's death.

Alpha Dog, pronounced Cassavetes, was “95 percent accurate.” Which was part of why it got buried, thanks to Jesse James Hollywood’s arrest just weeks after the film wrapped. Cassavetes hastily wrote a new ending to the movie, but his problems were just beginning. Hollywood’s lawyers insisted Alpha Dog would prevent their client from getting a fair trial, and used the threat of a mistrial to force Zonen off the case. “I don't know what Zonen was thinking, handing over the files,” gloated Hollywood’s defense team. “It was stupid.”

The publicity, and the delays, dragged out the pain for Markowitz’s family, especially when they heard Cassavetes had paid Hollywood’s father an, er, consulting fee. “Where is the justice in that?” asked the victim's brother. “This just goes on and on, and I’m spending my whole life in a courtroom.”

The film, too, was pushed back a year from its Sundance premiere. Despite casting a visionary young ensemble—Alpha Dog was my own introduction to Yelchin, Ben Foster, Olivia Wilde, Amanda Seyfried, Amber Heard, and the realization that Timberlake, that kid from N*SYNC, could actually act—no one noticed when it slid into theaters in January of 2007. It wasn’t just the bad press. It was that audiences couldn’t get past that Cassavetes’ last film was The Notebook. No way could the guy behind the biggest romantic weepy of a generation make something raw and cool.

But he had. Alpha Dog is a stunning movie about machismo and fate, two tag-team traits that destroy lives. Think Oedipus convincing himself he can outwit the oracle of Delphi. But Sophocles’ Oedipus telegraphs its intentions, elbowing the audience to see the end at the beginning. Greeks sitting down in 405 BC knew they were watching a tale that came full circle. Every step Oedipus takes away from his patricidal destiny just moves him closer to it.

If you map Alpha Dog’s script, instead of a loop, it looks like a horizontal line that plummets off a cliff. For most of its running time, Alpha Dog could pass for a coming-of-age flick where a sheltered kid with an over-protective mom (Sharon Stone) taps into his own self-confidence, right up until the scene where he tumbles into his own grave. Audiences who’d missed the news articles about the case weren’t clued into the climax. Cassavetes doesn’t offer any hints or flash-forwards, not even an ominous “based-on-a-true-story.” (The film might have been more successful if he had.) Instead, he lulls you into joining the kegger, watching Zach crack open beer after beer as though he expects to live forever. “There’s a movie sensibility that the film doesn’t conform to,” said Cassavetes. “You don’t watch this film. You endure it.”

As Zach, his eyes red-rimmed from bong rips, not tears, is shuttled between party dens and wealthy homes, he’s given several chances to escape. He’s even revealed to be a Tae Kwan Do blackbelt who can jokingly flip his captor-buddy Frankie (Justin Timberlake) into a bathtub. But Zach stays put—he doesn’t want to get his big brother Jake (Ben Foster) in more trouble, not realizing that Johnny is too busy making nervous phone calls to his lawyer and his aggro father Sonny (Bruce Willis) to get around to asking Jake for the $1200 in ransom money.

Zach’s death is disorienting, almost as if Psycho's Marion Crane got murdered in the second-to-last reel. In a minivan en route to his execution, he innocently tells Frankie he wants learn to play guitar. “It bugs me that I don’t know how to do anything,” he sighs. Meanwhile Johnny assures his dad that there’s no need to call off the killing. “These guys are such fuck-ups, nothing's gonna happen,” he shrugs, a rare example of cross-cutting that defuses tension in order to make the shock of the gunfire even worse. Up until the last second—even after Frankie binds him with duct tape—a sobbing Zach still can’t believe Frankie would hurt him, and honestly, Frankie can’t believe it himself. And Yelchin’s own early death makes you ache for him to get a happy ending, which Cassavetes dangles just out of reach.

This is how evil happens, says Cassavetes. Masterminds are rare. Instead, people like Frankie can be basically good, but can also be panicky and passive and selfish. Shoving Zach in Johnny’s van was an idiotic impulse by upper middle-class kids, who flipped out when they realized the snatching could get them a lifetime sentence. There’s no honor or glory in the violence. Johnny, the cowardly ringleader, talks tough, but orders his most craven friend, Elvis (Shawn Hatosy), to pull the trigger while he and his girlfriend Angela (Olivia Wilde) get drunk on margaritas. And after the murder, one side effect is that Johnny can’t get an erection. When Angela tries to get Johnny in the mood in their hideout motel, the walls close in on him, suffocating the mood.  

Away from his boys, Johnny is weak. Surrounded by them, he's the king. Alpha Dog sets up a culture of animalistic dominance. Johnny’s rental house is basically a primate cage at the zoo, only decorated with weight benches and Scarface posters. All of Johnny’s boys jockey to be his favorite and tear each other down in order to bump up their own rank. Kindness is weakness. When a fellow dealer with the ridiculous nickname Bobby 911 cruises by to negotiate a sale, he snarls at a guy who vouches for him: “You don’t need to tell him I’m good for it, man!”

Elvis, the future shooter, is the lowest member of the pack. He can’t ease into the group without Johnny ordering him to go pick up his pit-bull's poop in the backyard. Why do they pick on Elvis? He owes Johnny a bit of money, but the source of the scorn is simply group think. No one wants to be nice to the outcast, and Elvis is just too sincere to be taken seriously. When Elvis offers to get Johnny a beer, the guys tease him for being in love with Johnny. When he says sure, he does care about Johnny, they twist words into a gay panic joke. Elvis can’t win—they won’t let him—so he literally kills to prove his worth, and winds up sentenced to death row, where the real boy, just 21 at the time of the shooting, remains today. Another life wasted.

Cassavetes humanizes the killers because he wants us to understand how their micro decisions add up to murder. Not just the gunmen. Everyone’s a little to blame. The kids who got drunk with “Stolen Boy” and didn’t call the police. The girls who told Zach that being kidnapped made him sexy. Even Zach’s older step-brother Jake, an addict with a twitchy temper who escalates his war with Johnny to a fatal breaking point. Neither boy will back down over a $1200 debt, and there’s an awful split screen call when Johnny dials Jake intending to bring Zach home, but Jake is so boiling over with anger, his Bugs Bunny voice shrieking with outrage, that Johnny just hangs up the phone.

The opening credits, a montage of the cast’s own old home videos, underline that these were young and happy children—the kind of kids people point to as examples of the suburban American ideal. Over a treacly cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” we watch these real life boys being cultured to be brave: riding bikes, falling off dive-boards, running around with toy guns, going through the rituals of young manhood, from bar mitzvahs to karate lessons. Yelchin—recognizably dark-eyed and solemn even as a toddler—grins wearing plastic vampire teeth.

It takes another ten minutes for Yelchin’s character to sneak into the film sideways in a profile shot eating dinner with his parents, played by Sharon Stone and David Thornton. His Zach is barely even visible as brash Jake barges into the scene to beg for money. They say no, Jake stomps out, and Zach finally makes himself seen when he runs after his brother, begging to go anywhere less suffocating. Zach’s mom loves him so much that she watches him sleep. “I’m not fucking eight!” he yelps. He’s 15—practically a man, in his own imagination—and desperate to get away, even if it means mimicking Jake, a Jewish kid who’s so scrambled that he has a Hebrew tattoo on his clavicle and a swastika inked on his back. Jake starts to say that he wishes his own mom cared about him that much, but as soon as he gets vulnerable, he spins the moment into a joke. “Boo for me,” Jake grins, and takes another swig of beer.

“You could say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, but this whole thing is about parenting,” grunts Bruce Willis’ Sonny Truelove. “It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.” He’s half-right—his parenting is half to blame. Sonny and his best friend Cosmo (Harry Dean Stanton) taught Johnny to bully his friends. Cosmo, looking haggard and hollow, mocks Johnny for having one girlfriend. “You gotta plow some fucking fields,” he bellows. “Men are not supposed to be monopolous!” Not that “monopolous” is a real word, and not that Cosmo fends off women himself, except in his own big talk.

Cosmo and Sonny’s own posturing gradually emerges as being more dangerous than Johnny’s because it's more integrated into society. They’re the type of creeps who rewrite the rulebook to suit them, and attack journalists who try to tell the truth. When a fictitious documentarian asks Sonny about his son's drug connections, the father shrugs, “Did he sell a little weed? Sure.” But when the interviewer presses him further, Sonny snaps, “I’m a taxpayer and I’m a citizen and you are a jerk-off.”

Cassavetes, of course, understands growing up with a father who left a giant footprint to fill. His father, John Cassavetes, the writer-director of Shadows and Faces and A Woman Under the Influence, was one of the major pioneers of independent cinema. He died when Nick was 30, before his son attempted to take up his legacy. “We never really talked film theory,” said Cassavetes. “My experience with my dad was more along the lines of how to be a man, how to be yourself, how to free yourself from what society tells you to do, how to release yourself as an artist.”

It makes sense that Cassavetes would make his own ambitious, and maddeningly singular film. And perhaps it even makes sense to him that fate has yet to give him the reward he’s earned. Alpha Dog deserves to be acknowledged as one of the most incisive examinations of machismo and the banality of evil. But like his fumbling criminals, he knows he’s not really in charge of his life. Admitted Cassavetes, “I'm not smart enough to really have a master plan for my career.”

[daisy-chain-gardens]

Fic review number four is … 

Every Little Thing by @youbuildmeupbeliever

This is my first long review for a one shot and honestly, I couldn’t have picked a better one. Not only is this Christmas themed (the reason I figured I should post this now while it’s still ‘the season’), it’s also heart-wrenchingly beautiful. I don’t really cry when I’m reading but I have no shame in saying there were a fair amount of tears running down my cheeks by the end of this. 

This is the same review I left on AO3 but I figured I’d post it here as well because EVERYBODY needs to go and read it, right now, before you read my review under the cut and get it completely spoiled for you :)

As soon as I read the summary, I was hooked. I know you had the major character death warnings and things but I was super intrigued to see how you would deal with the flashbacks and the whole emotion of the situation. IT WAS INCREDIBLE. I was hooked from the first sentence and I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen until I had read the last sentence. This was honestly heart breaking but you wrote it so well and so realistically that it was almost a pleasure (almost because, let’s be honest, it was still super sad). Let’s start at the start.

Betty woke up and instantly felt warmth surrounding her. This is only the first line but you already had me feeling things. As soon as I read this I knew that you were going to have her waking up to an empty bed in the ‘present’ time and oh my goodness it was awful. However, I really liked the bittersweet tone you managed to keep throughout all of the flashbacks. What we know about Jughead’s death makes all of their little moments in the past seem so special and precious and it makes us sympathise with Betty that much more in the future.

She rolled into her husband’s chest, peppering kisses across his collar bone. This whole section is so fun and playful and it was nice to have some happy moments before you ripped my heart to pieces (ok, so it wasn’t that bad, but you get what I mean). You can feel how much love they have for each other by the small little things you’ve described and it gives me the warm fuzzies.

She looked back at her husband, dressed in the familiar black plaid robe he always donned on lazy mornings, and smiled to herself as she remembered when he used to loath all holidays, but had grown to love any reason to celebrate with his family. I love this bit a lot. It’s so sweet and it’s so nice to read about Jughead being happy and excited about a holiday, especially given what we know about him and his family in the actual show. Jughead loving Christmas is a huge part of this story and it’s nice to have an explanation, no matter how small, to justify it and tell us why Betty is struggling so much on Christmas in the present.

Some mornings she still reached over to rub her hand on Jughead’s back, only to find contact with a cold bedsheet. This is an example of how you turn really simple lines into something beautiful. As a reader, you know exactly what emotion Betty is feeling and that is something you have nailed throughout this one shot (and all of your other writing). After the fluffiness of the last part, the somber start to this part is shocking but necessary.

I took the kids to see Santa at the mall the other day and Mila told him that all she wanted for Christmas was for her daddy to come back. It breaks my heart that I can’t do that for her, that her only wish for Christmas can’t come true. I’m not gonna lie, as soon as I read this I knew I was going to cry at some point in this story. It’s such a simple event but so realistic and I can totally see how that would make Betty lose it. You can tell how fragile she is and how protective she is of her children and it makes it that much more touching. Also, I love that Betty has a picture of Jughead she talks to and sleeps beside. It’s such a small detail in the scheme of things but definitely something I can imagine her doing.

He ran his hand gently over the baby’s dark head of hair with the very definition of heart eyes. He looked at his wife with the same look in his eyes, pressing a kiss to her temple, squeezing her shoulders, “I’m so proud of you, baby. I love you so, so much. Thank you for making me a father.” One of my headcanons is that Jughead is an incredible father who has an infinite amount of love for his kids and, of course, for Betty. I’m so glad that you think the same thing and Jughead falling in love with his daughter as soon as he sees her is so adorable.

“I miss him lots, too,” Mila presses her right palm against her mother’s cheek. “But Daddy loved Christmas. He wouldn’t want us to be sad on his favourite day, Mommy.” I can so easily imagine a mini Jughead-esque girl saying this to Betty and her being on the brink of tears. Mila is so sweet and innocent and you’ve captured her character really well. The way that she’s looking after her mum, even just in the little things, is so adorable and makes me feel slightly better for Betty. At least she doesn’t have to handle two nightmare children alone.

Betty took a deep breath and headed to her closet, grabbing her husband’s black plaid robe, shrugging it on and taking a moment to relish in its embrace. She didn’t wear his clothes often anymore, only when she really needed his comfort and to be enveloped in him. Another thing I love about this story (I will admit, there is a LOT I love about this) is the subtle mentions that pop up over and over. Like Jughead’s black robe and his short and the other things that are mentioned in the ‘past’ and then reappear in the present. It makes for really smooth reading. Plus using the word ‘embrace’ in this just makes it so much more personal. You can tell that Betty is clinging onto every whisper of Jughead she can and it’s through the little things, like your choice of words, that you’ve made it apparent to the reader and I love that.

“Hi, baby boy. I’m your daddy and this is your mommy, and we’re so happy you’re here!” The little parallel between Mila’s birth and Beau’s is really sweet. Plus I love that Mila got Jughead’s features and Beau got Betty’s. hey would be such adorable kids. The little moment between Mila and Beau after that is so so adorable and then the small moment between Jughead and Betty afterwards is enough to make my heart burst. And this time it’s for good reasons.

“Anything for you, baby girl,” Jughead appeased his daughter, smiling at her as he snapped pieces of the toy together. I can so imagine Jughead being at Mila’s beck and call, willing to do anything and everything for her. Such a sweet mental image. Plus I love how, even though he isn’t actually present for that much of the story, you’ve managed to set up his character really well. We can tell that he’s an incredible father to his kids by the small moments you’ve blessed us with. We can tell that he’s an incredible husband and rock for Betty based on how hopeless she is without him and all of the cute coupley memories we get flashbacks of. Us knowing that he’s such an amazing person makes it that much easier for us to imagine the emotional state Betty and his family are in once he dies.

She looked in her closet and Jughead’s black dress shirt caught her eye. She pulled it off the hanger, and held it to her nose, breathing in the faint scent of her late husband, tears welled in her eyes. The fact that Betty is so fragile, even though she is a very strong character, is freaking sad. You can tell that she’s struggling and trying to hold herself together and be strong for the kids but everyone has their breaking points. It’s difficult to see such a strong character reach hers.

They spoke quietly about their life together and hopes they had for the future, for their kids and for each other. They traded declarations of love and sweet nothings. I wasn’t really sure which quote to use from this part because, well, you know but I just really like how comfortable and playful and close they are. You didn’t even have to put those emotions onto paper literally for us to get that sense of how their relationship is and for that I admire you. That’s something I wish I could do better and you’ve nailed it.

“How are you doing, honey?” she asked, taking note of the men’s dress shirt adorning her daughter’s body. YAY. FOR. SUPPORTIVE. ALICE.

When Betty reached FP, he pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She felt like this was his attempt at putting all her broken pieces back together; like he was giving her every bit of strength he had in him. YAY. FOR. SUPPORTIVE. FP. But actually, this second sentence is gorgeous. We’ve been so caught up in Betty’s grieving that we forget Jughead’s death affected a lot of people, his family obviously being some of them. This is really gorgeous wording to describe something a lot more melancholy. Plus I just love that FP/Betty dynamic so I love it when they appear in fics together.

That statement alone broke the dam holding Betty’s tears back. She clutched onto FP, sobs wracking her body for the second time that day, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. I can’t find the specific thing I love about this part because, well, it’s sad. I honestly think it’s just Betty and FP together. You’ve written both of them so in-character and I love it.

She leaned against him, his chin settling on the crown of her head. Warmth surrounded her as she watched over her loved ones. I think this is where I knew for absolute sure you were going to make me cry with this story. There are so many mentions of Betty just wanting to feel Jughead’s embrace (okay, so two or three but you get my idea) and then you go and write him actually hugging her and it makes me emotional.

“This. Giving me a family. Loving me. Making me the happiest man alive. I still can’t believe that this is my life. I just - I can’t believe that this is my reality. After all this time, still shocks the hell out of me.” Jughead confessed. Once again, I don’t really know what draws me to this but I’ve always loved various love confessions so this is perfect.

Betty carried both kids into the house one by one, making sure each was settled into their respective beds. This bit was where my heart started breaking because you can feel Jughead’s absence. You can tell exactly how he fit into their little family and it must be truly awful for Betty to have to carry on with this life when she would be constantly reminded of who she’s lost and the massive role he played in her life.

“We left a chair for you at dinner, the one right beside me. You would’ve loved all the food. I think my mom forgot that you weren’t going to be there today, she made so much food.” I have no words for this last paragraph. It’s beautiful, to the point where I wasn’t at all ashamed that you made be bawl my eyes out. I understand that Betty is a very proud and independent person but it makes me sad she doesn’t feel like she can break down in front of anyone now that Jughead’s gone. She’s just spent the with her family, technically the people she should be able to talk to about anything, but she has to wait until she gets home and is all alone before she really lets herself feel everything. I’m not really sure how to put it into words but this last paragraph was beautiful and melancholy and nostalgic and adorable (a very odd mix, I know).

Thank you so much for writing this story and sharing it with us. It was beautifully written, well thought out, and an absolute pleasure to read. Thank you thank you thank you.

[warwidowed-a]

here are my collective thoughts on my first listen at b.andstand on broadway. a lot of comparisons are gonna be made to papermill just because i’ve been listening to it for like six months straight waiting for this transfer, so it’s the version i’m used to. this post is NOT spoiler free, by the way. alright, let’s do it.

opening/just like it was before:

totally new arrangement from what it was at papermill, but i still really like the song

lyrical similarities right off the bat to ‘right this way’

“i’d like a good nights sleep, is that too much to ask?”

“the cream always rises” hmmmm, i see what y’all did there (see: donny novitski)

“you talk in your sleep” “i should have warned ya”

why is this score so lit

“if i can’t play, then what’s the point of making it back home?” have i mentioned today i love donald novitski because i feel like at this point i need to say that

that last harmonizing note fuck fuck fuck

donny novitski:

pretty much entirely the same as papermill

donny has some serious animosity at frank sinatra

i like hearing this song with the full orchestra though it’s lit

“donny needs something to block all the memories and break his insomnia spell” again, hello, i love donald novitski thanks

corey cott could kill someone with that last note his vibratto is killer

scene before i know a guy:

“we’re not open yet” “your back door is”

THEY GAVE NATE HOPKINS APPLAUSE AFTER HIS SAX SOLO I’M SCREAMING

i still can’t believe they call michael ‘rubber’ through most of this show

i know a guy:

the “drivin’ me nuts’ joke is still hilarious

JIMMY YOU SKINNY SON OF A BITCH

why is nick radel me

“how do you miss a b flat? it’s a b flat trumpet!”

THAT LITTLE JUST LIKE IT WAS BEFORE REPRISE

why did they skim wayne and johnny shy though like we got full scenes with davy, nick, and jimmy why not them too??

ain’t we proud:

still a catchy song but not one of my favs

NICK GOT APPLAUSE AFTER THEIR SOLOS HECK

corey fucking cott teaching himself piano for this show and you wouldn’t have even guessed what a fucking champ

post-ain’t be proud, pre-who i was:

i love johnny simpson more than anything in this life i will choose his happiness over mine every time

“how much slower will you get, will they put you in reverse” FUCK

you can hear johnny mumbling “sunday.... sunday” before he asks what day of the week is sunday i swear to god i would die for him

“the high balls are on me” “i don’t get it” “well see, griaffes are really tall”

“how bad was it?” “friendly fire got him” “were you the friend?” what kind O F FUCKING FORESHADOWING

“aren’t you a little old for ding dong ditch” julia,,,,,, julia,,,,,,,

i don’t like that they have that interlude and have julia invite him over a different day instead of just inviting him in right away. i feel like that could be cut out honestly

“i just want to know what happened” “what will that get you?” “i don’t know, sleeping through the night? closing a chapter? maybe just getting out the door?” juliaaaaaaa i’m a fucking wreck it’s fine

who i was:

AHHH I LOVE HEARING THIS SONG WITH THE FULL ORCHESTRA

the dinner scene:

“you look pretty” “well, turns out there’s better cosmetics than cake flour” Me: Fucking Squints(tm)

MRS ADAMS USED TO PLAY THE PIANO

THE DEVILED EGGS

“the top of the paprika shaker fell off” i’m

oh shit since they took donny’s parents out of the beginning number from papermill, his mom died when he was thirteen

julia crying while they go through the pictures i’m fine

JULIA ENOUGH WITH THE  CON DOM JOKES

“your daughter’s voice is beautiful, it’s really high” my god donny

just like it was before (reprise):

the chorus of “donny no” and “what are you doing?” from julia and wayne when he tells julia to come sing with them i’m shrieking

“wait, i gotta transpose” JOHNNY

first steps first:

it’s a bit different than what it was but gd i’d still die for laura osnes’ voice

“no need to be so shy, take reassurance i know how to guide you through the worst steps, first steps first” uh more foreshadowing re: donny

“why don’t you kick it up” “oh, thank god” DAVY

oooh yeah i like this new arrangement

“you want a drink?” “oh i hardly ever drink” “you wanna trade livers” davy please

“the best i could hope is to teach the kids choir at church” “DON’T. TEACH.” i love nick sm 

JULIA ASKING ABOUT WAYNE’S KIDS I’M SOBBING OH MY G OD

JULIA TROJAN IS THE LIGHT OF THIS ENTIRE WORLD AND I WOULD DIE FOR HER

their names are emily and grady btw 

“as far as i’m concerned i’m one of the lucky ones” “yes you are, you made it home” “no, lucky i don’t remember” again, i would die for johnny simpson too

god damn julia’s voice is so soft and sweet i’m dying. the voice laura uses is even softer than her ella voice i just wanna hug her

heck they kept the “parents warn their kids about people like you” line god bless

“oh a wise cracker! you might be watching too many pictures” uh ya did you not get the “avid cinephile” line, donny?

“i don’t need to be rescued” ur goD DAMN RIGHT JULIA

“i’ll give it a thought but there are a lot of things i want to know about michael” “first steps first” oh fuck i see what y’all did there

breathe:

“stop touching my stuff with your sweaty hands” this is literally a band full of five year olds

??? this song doesn’t really do anything ???

they could easily cut this song tbh

it’s pretty much just like them rehearsing for you deserve it

you deserve it:

DID YOU MEAN MY FUCKING JAM SECOND ONLY TO ‘NOBODY’? YEP

this song didn’t change pretty much at all and it’s still a bop

CAUSE WHEN YOU GOT THE CALL YOU STOOD UP PROUD AND TALL AND YOU DESERVE IT

post-you deserve it/pre-love will come and find me again:

donny and julia bonding over music i’m shook

“michael is buried in some place called manila, i'll never get to manila, i never got to say goodbye. a lot of things just vanish with not explanation and i wanna know. if-if he was in pain, i wanna know how his hands were folded in the casket and if-if his uniform was pressed and his hair was combed right and a million other things that keep me up at night” i’m sobbing 

julia takes no shit and i love her so much

“i survived mustard gas and pepper spray, i guess that makes me a seasoned veteran” davy’s jokes oh my god

JULIA BREAKING UP THE FIGHT BETWEEN DONNY AND NICK

“WALK ME HOME, DONNY, COME ON”

awwww julia’s poem

“don’t stay up all night reading them, get some sleep” “eh, gave up on that a long time ago” :////

THE LITTLE REPRISE OF WHO I WAS

“when i lost him it broke my soul. who knew my voice could be one part of the whole? well... perhaps someone does” fuck

“gershwin’s got nothing on you” MRS ADAMS 

“i’ll stay up all night, i’m good at that” again i’m ://///////

love will come and find me again:

laura osnes could step on me and i’d thank her

nothing has changed with this song but fuck it’s so good

right this way:

“bayer-FUCKING-asprin”

holy fuck this song might just win corey cott a tony nomination

ACT TWO

nobody:

AKA MY FUCKIN JAM AGAIN

literally the same nothing changed it’s still a bop

NICK ASKING WAYNE TO MOVE IN W/ HIM

“I JUST GOT A LIVE IN MAID” JFC

i got a theory:

LAURA ON THE UKE

nothing much changed with this song either tbh

JIMMY’S GAY AND HE LITERALLY WATCHED HIS BF DIE WHEN HIS SHIP EXPLODED FUCK THIS SHOW

i said it probably like twice already but i love johnny simpson

julia still having her moment of trying to convince davy to stop drinking ://///

post-i got a theory:

“was it quick? did he suffer? was he trying to save someone?” “you don’t wanna know”  “for a year and a half it’s all i’ve wanted to know. was he scared? what was the last thing he said? were his eyes open?” AND D ONNY SNAPS AT HER IM “

JUST STOP IT”

“i’m still waiting”

oh myg od

they changed michael’s entire death 

donny had accidentally dropped a grenade while they were in a trench and couldn’t find it. he tried to tell michael to get out and he didn’t make it and fuck he’s crying telling this to julia what the fuck has this show done to me

everything happens:

“IT WAS HIS FAULT” JULIA JULIA JU L I  A

i love mrs adams so much

what would julia have done without her

welcome home:

JULIA AND MICHAEL LITERALLY MET IN HIGH SCHOOL DOING THEATRE FUCK ME UP

“you know the first thing he said to me? don’t sing because you need to get the lead, sing because you just need to sing. you know what he said next? the girl who got the lead stuffs her bra with so much kleneex, one cigarette act and she’ll go up” no wonder julia wrote poetry for this guy he was smooth as FUCK

“stop picking up my clothes, if i wanted them in the drawer, i’d put them in the drawer” nick relax

donny singing welcome home i’m in tears

HE ENCOURAGES HER TO WRITE WELCOME HOME AS A LOVE SONG IF MICHAEL HAD COME HOME FUCK THIS ENTIRE SHOW

“sometimes i just think, maybe the wrong guy came home” again, fuck this entire show

a band in new york city:

THE GUYS AT THE VA PAID FOR THEIR TRIP SO PURE

this song is still a bop too

this is life:

idk i like this song but i think i almost prefer “give me a reason”

this also hasn’t changed at all from when they sang it at broadwaycon

but holy fuck do corey and laura sound incredible together

welcome home (reprise):

jimmy campbell: the real hero

“we came, we saw, we said fuck it” DAVY IS ME

THIS IS LIFE REPRISE FUCK F UCK FUCK

WHAT I FEEL FOR YOU JULIA IS TRUE. NO MATTER HOW TOUGH IT IS, NO MATTER HOW MUCH TIME IT TAKES, I NEED TO BE WITH YOU. AND THAT IS TRUE.

I’M SERIOUSLY HOPING THAT THE CROWD CHEERING IS BECAUSE THEY KISSED BECAUSE FUCK YOU GUYS I’M CRYING THAT WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN JUST THE “I LOVE YOU JULIA TROJAN” FROM PAPERMILL HE WAS LITERALLY CRYING AND I’M LITERALLY CRYING

the lyrics changed a bit to welcome home and it still breaks my heart

finale:

awwwww sweet betsy oh my god

donny inviting her and her family backstage to meet her father who served i’m sobbing it’s fine

it’s literally just a reprise of nobody oh god

it could have been a little longer but !!!!!!

okay, so overall holy shit. a lot changed from papermill. dialogue, songs, you name it. i think the book needs a little re-writing and there are a lot of pointless interludes between scenes that could be cut but!!!!!!! holy fuck overall i love it so much. i can’t wait until we get a video boot i need to see this choreography and ESPECIALLY this is life and before welcome home

[howterrifying]

Hi! I don't know if you're taking any prompts right now but if you are, here's one: Sherlock been away for a case and then he called his family and when his baby daughter (or son) spoke over the phone, cue the cute convo. His daughter told him all sort of random stuff, she still didn't speak very well, and then she told him she missed him and wanted him to come home soon. Basically parentlock fluff :"> Thank you.

I know I wrote to you when you’d sent me the prompt that I was going to take a while to get round to writing it as I was in the middle of The Admirer at the time. I am so, so sorry it took this long. Literally, years. I can only hope I did your prompt justice! Thank you for sending it in the first place and for entrusting me with such a sweet bit of parent!lock fluff! <3 

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Virtue  ( also on FF.net and AO3 )As it stood, if a case presented itself as less than a seven, there was no needfor Sherlock to leave 221B Baker Street. This (self-created) rule had remainedunchanged for a very long time, surviving past his false suicide, past thewedding of his best friend to Mary Morstan, and even after his own wedding toMolly Hooper. 

When his daughter, Stella Holmes, was born, it remained the same. Only if acase was urgent or mysterious enough did it warrant the detective to leave hisflat, or in some instances, London. This was not to say that Sherlock Holmesdid not worry about his baby daughter. However, he was—if he had believed in agod other than himself—blessed with the good fortune of a brilliantly capableand resourceful wife, and the unusual fortune of the British Secret Service foran older brother. It was a case that had taken him to the South of Devon which removed whateverblessing Sherlock knew he had and replaced it with paranoia - the paranoia thatif he were to be separate from his daughter, even for one moment, anythingcould happen and if it did, he would never forgive himself. When Sherlock sawthe distraught face of the innkeeper, whose lost teenage son had beenSherlock’s mystery to solve, have to identify the grotesquely bloated corpse ofhis drowned son, the detective was never the same again. “Sherlock, there’s no such thing as an in-house case,” Molly said oneevening. “You just happen to be genius enough to solve most of them withouthaving to step foot out of the door. But not all the cases are like that. You cannotsave lives cooping yourself up in Baker Street forever.”“I won’t leave for anything less than a ten. And frankly, there just aren’t anytens anymore,” he replied stubbornly, whilst his four-year old daughter sleptsoundly against his chest.“Oh, Sherlock,” Molly said with a sigh as she sank next to him on the sofa andleaned against his arm. He turned to kiss Molly on her temple and leaned his head against hers.Sherlock knew it was selfish - to put aside the saving of other lives in orderto preserve one. It seemed terribly extreme, but such was the love he had forhis daughter, for this small unit of a family that he and Molly had built. “I just can’t bear the thought of—”“Sherlock, what happened in Devon didn’t happen to you,” reminded Mollyfirmly. “But what if it does?” he asked, turning to look at his wife with unusuallyanxious eyes. “You can be above this, Sherlock,” said Molly placing a gentle hand onher husband’s face, “The man I love, the detective I know would not let hisfears hold him back from doing good.”“Maybe I’m not that man anymore…” he murmured, staring down wistfully at hissleeping daughter’s face. “It’s who you are, Sherlock,” whispered Molly assuredly, “It’s just beingoverwhelmed at the moment.”“Perhaps,” he said quietly. Their days continued to consist of Sherlock not wanting to be away from hisdaughter, ignoring cases on his phone and only taking the ones from clients whowere willing come to Baker Street. Molly resigned herself to letting time bethe one to gradually allay her husband’s fears. It seemed nothing she said ordid could reassure him that life had to go on. It was another warm evening and after dinner, Molly had gone to take a showerwhilst Sherlock went to sit at his desk with Stella on his lap. He brieflyscanned through the day’s news with Stella following the movement of his cursoron the screen. His daughter, the bright spark that she was, was a keen observerof her own surroundings. Sherlock and Molly always made it a point to occupyher with a diversity of education and knowledge - from the symbols in aperiodic table to the varying viscosities of honey. As Sherlock scrolled through various news articles and as his inbox constantlychimed with new case requests, Stella sat quietly with her eyes wide open,waiting to see what her father was possibly about to teach her. However, when aphoto of a crying child appeared on his screen, it was Stella who spoke first. “Daddy,” she said, pointing to the laptop. “What happened?”“Let’s see, shall we?” said Sherlock, scrolling to find its caption.A five-year old girl was left stranded on a busy intersection after a groupof masked assailants allegedly snatched her father away right in front of her.Police investigations are under way. “Oh.”“What Daddy, what?” asked the wide-eyed toddler. Sherlock swallowed hard and realised he had been presented with a dilemma. Forthe past weeks, all he could see in his mind was the traumatised face of amourning father. Now, he was faced with the distressed, crying face of adaughter who had lost her father. What was more, it seemed to be affecting hisown daughter as well. “She’s crying, Daddy,” said Stella softly, pointing a chubby finger at thephotograph. “Why? What happened?”“She—” he could not believe it but he was choking on his words, “She can’t findher daddy, Stella.”To his surprise and utter heartbreak, a large tear rolled down the soft, rosycheek of his four-year old. He heard the soft but sharp inhale of a first soband felt the slightest tremble in her chest. “Oh no,” whispered Stella, “Where is her daddy? Where did he go?”“We don’t know, darling,” he whispered back, “Some bad people took him.”“You must find him, Daddy,” said Stella, turning to stare at her father withglistening eyes, “Because she will cry. And I will cry.”Stella did not realise that her words also made her father want to cry - and henever cried. She continued staring at the photograph, not being able toread the lengthy article or its wordy headline. To his amazement, however, shepointed at a word on the screen and began to spell it out.“F-A-T-H-E-R,” she began. “Father.”“Yes, well done, Stella,” said Sherlock, kissing the top of her head. “Daddy is my father,” she said, leaning into his chest. “I most certainly am,” he answered, smiling. “But who took her father?” asked Stella, staring back up at Sherlock. “Nobody knows, Stella.”“Maybe you know, Daddy,” said the little girl.“Hmm?” Sherlock raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Mummy says you’re clever, you know where to find things,” Stella remarked,smiling proudly at Sherlock, “You find it first because you’re the fastest.”A small laugh escaped the detective as he wrapped his arms tightly around hisprecious daughter and kissed the side of her face. Her words struck him likelittle ice-picks to an armour of ice that had surrounded his ribcage. Slowly,the face of the crying girl in the news began to take over that of the mourningfather’s. What was more, Sherlock had begun to imagine if the crying girl hadbeen his own, and the pain from that was the final strike to the ice thatfortified his heart. “Should I go find him then?” he asked his daughter softly. At his words, Stella turned excitedly to him, beaming with a smile that meltedhis heart. “Yes! You will find him, and she won’t cry anymore,” Stella exclaimed happily. “All right, but Daddy will have to be away for a while,” he said, brushing awayher wispy fringe from her eyes, “Is that okay?”“It’s okay, Daddy,” said Stella, settling against his chest again, “If I missyou, I will use Mummy’s phone.”Just then, Mummy herself appeared as Molly, freshly showered, stepped into theliving room, smiling at the sight of her daughter sitting cosily in herhusband’s lap. “You seem excited, Stella,” she said, beckoning for Stella to come to her.Molly knelt down by the sofa as their daughter leapt off her father’s lap torun into her arms. “Daddy has to go out, Mummy,” Stella exclaimed excitedly.“Oh? He does?” said Molly, looking up at Sherlock and raising a curiouseyebrow. “Yes, to help the crying girl.”“What crying girl?” asked Molly, picking her little girl up so they could siton the sofa together. The detective got up from his desk and took his laptop with him, joining motherand daughter on the sofa. “Her father was snatched off the streets when he was out with her just thisafternoon. She saw the assailants and the vehicle they’d driven him off in. Whydid they just leave her like that? And all of this happened in such a busy partof Manchester too. Curious, isn’t it?” he said, reaching for his phone as hebegan texting the extension of his homeless network located where the crime hadtaken place. Molly smiled as she saw the life come back into Sherlock’s eyes. Those anxiouseyes that had been filled with nothing but paranoia were no longer there andinstead, were alight with the gleam of newfound mission. This was who hewas, and he had finally returned. Things moved swiftly into gear as Sherlock launched himself into solving themystery of the kidnapped father. He had phoned DI Lestrade to get him onboardwith all the current investigations happening. Before dawn, Sherlock wasalready out of the flat and on a train to Manchester. Molly, together withStella, had waved proudly at Sherlock as he set off to save lives - that of themissing father and his crying daughter. With Sherlock onboard, the cases never took more than a week to be solved. Inthe case of the kidnapped father, he had taken only three days, leading thepolice first to the brawn that had executed the crime and finally to the brainsthat had had the motive for kidnapping the innocent man. The case had made the newsof course, and while Sherlock had been busy and unable to call home, his homehad been following the case as closely as they could. Molly and Stella wereglued to the laptop or the television, seeing if any progress had been made.When the breaking news arrived that Sherlock had cracked the case, mother anddaughter squealed with delight and waltzed around their Baker Street livingroom in celebration.“Can Daddy come home now?” asked Stella, as she lay on the carpeted floor withher mother, exhausted from their victory dance. “Yes, darling. He’ll be home soon,” Molly replied, staring up at their ceiling.“Can we phone him, Mummy?” asked Stella, getting up from the floor. “What a good idea, love,” said Molly, getting up as well. “Let’s go get Mummy’sphone.”It was almost midnight and after a round of press conferences at the policestation in Manchester, Sherlock was being driven back to London as a thank-youfrom DI Lestrade. He took a moment to relish the calm after the whirlwind ofevents that had taken place. Shutting his eyes, he leaned his head back againstthe leather seat, only to be startled by the sound of his phone ringing. It wasa ringtone that signified a call he was more than happy to receive. “Hello?” said Sherlock, unable to resist a smile. “Hey,” came Molly’s voice. “You okay?”“Yes. Just glad to be on the way home,” he answered, “And you?”“We just did a victory dance for you,” said Molly with a chuckle.“Did you?” said Sherlock, amused. “We’ll do it again for you when you get back.”“Please do. I’d love to see it,” he remarked with a warm laugh.“Someone’s desperate to hear your voice though.”“The desperation is mutual.”“All right, hold on.”Sherlock waited patiently as he heard the muffled sounds of Molly passing hermobile phone to his daughter’s tiny hands. There were more strange sounds whichSherlock deduced was Molly trying to put the phone on speaker mode. Eventually,they were connected and the voice he had been waiting for came through. “Daddy!”“Stella, hello darling,” he exclaimed, overjoyed at hearing her sweet voice. “I saw you on the telly!”“I was on the telly, yes,” replied Sherlock with a laugh, “Did you alsosee the girl and her father?”“Yes! She stopped crying and I am so happy now, Daddy,” Stella exclaimedjoyfully. “It makes me happy that you’re happy, Stella,” said Sherlock. “Are you coming home now?” asked the little girl.“Yes, I am in a car, coming home as quickly as I can to see you and Mummy.”“Okay good because I miss you,” said Stella. “I’ve missed you too,” Sherlock replied.“Daddy?” “Yes, Stella?”“You’re so good,” said Stella earnestly. “What do you mean, darling?” asked Sherlock with a laugh. “People stop crying ‘cause of you, Daddy,” his daughter explained, “So you are good.”Again, words caught in his throat and he found himself having to blink tearsaway. Molly must have sensed this over the phone and quickly cut in so hissilence would not worry their daughter. “Stella, Daddy needs to take a nap in the car now,” said Molly, “When he comeshome he’ll talk to you again all right?”“Okay, Daddy, goodnight!” said the little girl, blowing a kiss at her fathereven though he could not see her. From the footsteps he could hear in the background, Stella had probablytrundled off back to her nursery. Molly turned the phone off speaker mode andbrought it to her ear. “Are you crying, Sherlock Holmes?” she asked, smiling. “I’ll leave you to your deductions…” he answered, clearing his throat. “She’s right though,” Molly continued. “Hmm?”“You’re good, Sherlock. You’re good at what you do and you’re a goodman for doing what you do.”The detective went silent again as Molly’s words resonated with that of hisdaughter’s. Perhaps it was time to believe in a god other than himselfbecause had he been in charge, he would have been given none of this.What had he done to deserve the love of Molly and the love their daughter? Itbaffled him constantly and especially so this night. “Are you short-circuiting?” asked Molly, grinning, “I can actually seeyour incredulous face, you know…”“Well, I can’t wait to see yours,” said Sherlock softly. 
“What, myincredulous face?”“Just your face,” he said, smiling, “It is rather beautiful.”“Are you flirting now, Sherlock Holmes?” Molly said with a laugh, “Careful. Atthe rate you’re going, we just might end up with another baby.”Sherlock chuckled softly at her words and sank into his seat, so much morerelaxed now that he had gotten in touch with the only ones that mattered tohim. “Well, we make good babies, don’t we?” said Sherlock, smiling to himself as hestared out of the car window. “That’s because you’re a good man.”“And that’s because you made me one.”“It’s who you are, Sherlock,” Molly remarked gently. “And I love you for that.”Her words made him shake his head in disbelief again. He would never not short-circuitwhen she said things like that. “Molly.”“Yes, Sherlock?”“I’m going to make a deduction.”“Yes?”Sherlock paused, biting down a grin that threatened to spread across his face.“At the rate you’re going,” Sherlock remarked, amused, “We’re most certainlygoing to have another baby.”

END