#maybe Porter will be in the room who knows who cares

[whoblewboobear]

When Jace calls Porter over for a bit of reprieve from his cramps, he gets a lot more than he could've imagined.

Or the Jace period fic with a few twists 😬✌️

[munson-blurbs]

for the meet-cute event, can you write a blurb about Eddie meeting an introverted girl who also likes dungeons and dragons? maybe he sees a D20 pin on her bag or they're in a game store and he strikes up a conversation there? ❤️ love u bestie, im so glad you began writing fanfic because I wouldn't have met you or red and then we wouldn't be married

Your meet cute happens in a Creative Writing class (featuring the College AU Eddie I know you adore)!

CW: College AU, shy!Reader WC: 542 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

You loved the first day of the semester. Everything was just so new. New courses, new professors, even the crisp new syllabi had you excited for the next sixteen weeks. 

Nerdy? Perhaps. But you embraced it wholeheartedly. 

Your first class today was an elective: Creative Writing. Something to help balance out the heavier courses you needed for your major. 

Sliding into an empty desk in the second row, you took a fresh notebook and a blue pen out of your backpack and placed the bag on the floor. The D20 pin on the front pocket pinged when it touched the metal table leg.  

“Holy shit!”

You whipped around to see a lanky, curly-haired guy leaning out of his seat from the back row. He looked at your bag, then up at you.

“Is that a D20?” His chocolate brown eyes were alight with excitement. 

Nodding, you forced yourself to focus on making conversation instead of how good looking this man was. You allowed your gaze to linger long enough to notice the litany of tattoos that decorated his arms. Bats, some sort of marionette…

The guy grinned. “You, uh you play?”

Another nod. Christ, say something. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I have a group back home. I don’t really know anyone here who plays,” you stuttered, hoping he couldn’t sense your nervousness. He was cute. Really cute.

He stretched out his hand, not caring that he bumped the arm of the person sitting in front of him. “Well, now you do. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master. At your service.”

You took his hand and shook it, his grip firm but kind and his palm callused. Did you hold onto it for too long? Oh my God, you definitely did, and you definitely made things awkward.

To your surprise–and relief–Eddie didn’t jerk back in disgust. Nor did he look at you with any sort of pity. Instead, he leaned back in his seat with a knowing smile. “I’m starting up another campaign this week,” he said. “Our group meets Thursdays in the Porter Hall common room, second floor, at six PM. And we always order pizza or something so we don’t, y’know, starve to death.”

His dramatics brought a smile to your own face. “It would be pretty hard to slaughter our enemies on empty stomachs.”

“Exactly.” Eddie pointed a ringed finger at you. “I’m nothing if not a fair leader.”

“I can bring snacks, too,” you offered. It was the least you could do, considering he had extended the invitation to join in the first place.

Eddie placed a hand on his heart in exaggerated appreciation. “An angel on Earth. I’ll never turn down snacks. And if you got some of those ruffly potato chips, you’d be my personal hero.” 

“I think I can do that.”

“Great.” Eddie looked like he had more to say, but the professor walked in then, so he just let out a sigh. “Let me walk you back to the dorms after class? I’d love to discuss some campaign ideas with a fellow DnD nerd.”

Your top tooth dug into your lower lip as you nodded again. Something fluttered in your stomach that couldn’t be satiated with ruffly potato chips. 

The end of the lecture wouldn’t arrive fast enough. 

--

[colourstreakgryffin]

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind. Well. Other than that, those lyrics…

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

[grilledcheezy92]

Continued from yesterday's EA spoilers post

Under a cut bc it's a lot

"You fret about traffic and what to eat for breakfast." *stares at my Redactober fic that I have yet to post* well shit...

"I am asked to kill without compunction," another instance of explicitly stating what his job is and STILL NOT A SINGLE FLINCH FROM TREASURE

"You know a piece of me. The piece I’ve chosen to share. I don’t owe you more of me! Do me a favor and take a damn hint." I gasped out loud. Porter, dude, my guy. You admitted you wanted more from this relationship than sex. You are officially Boyfriend

"So talking to you about it isn’t going to help. It won’t help the problem ... and it certainly won’t help me. Or my bad attitude." IT COULD IF YOU TRIED

"You don’t know what it’s like. And to be blunt, I hope you never do." *flashing back to the Treasure Halloween angst headcanons*

"have you ever taken more than a moment to think of the chain of events that has led to us standing here in this room together? The kind of internal tumult that has led you here into the arms of a total stranger, inconceivably vast power imbalance and all? And you think I’m the only one who needs help? You think you have a leg to stand on telling me that I need to work on myself while being completely blind to your own issues?" And if Treasure knows exactly what their issues are and is choosing to be with you anyway then what? It's not like you know them any better than they supposedly know you. Unless of course you have let them tell you all about themself, given their everything to you and are still holding yourself back.

The power imbalance is only as "vast" as you allow it to be Porter.

"When I want to be false-therapized and patronized by a hypocrite, I’ll let you know." 😤

"Every association I’ve ever cultivated I find a way to turn into ash" maybe if you didn't push people away when they try to help you... 😒 Treasure's right you are a coward.

"I’ve allowed my own fear and desire for any kind of meaning to blind me to even imagining any other alternative." Crying for him tbh

"I’ll leave you to solve whatever your equivalent conundrum would be, like… should you actually do your laundry tonight or just push the pile farther over on the bed? Again?" Fucking diabolical.

I have lines from previous episodes running through my head

Getting More: "When the storm outside starts to shake the bars of the proverbial cage in your mind, what do you choose? Hmm. Interesting. I don’t know that that was the answer I was expecting." I think they choose to face/solve/fix it rather than ignore or block it out

Trying to Help: "I don’t claim to make much of anything easy. Certainly not getting to know me. The idea that someone is willing to try in spite of my misgivings is… it’s…"

Drawn In: "And maybe sometimes we inhabit the experiences that we think we deserve."

Getting More: "And you think you know me well enough to know that I don’t really believe that, is that what you’re implying? Hmm. Maybe you’re right about that."

Trying to Help: "It makes me feel everything again. And I’ve made a very prolific career out of not feeling at inopportune times."

Getting More: "we don’t… know each other very well, do we? That’s not a damning appraisal, darling, it’s just an observation ... Would you want to… change that? ... knowing more about you. I feel, in the long term, I would enjoy them even more. Provided we want there to be some kind of longer term."

Drawn In: "a relationship in which all parties care about one another. And act accordingly. It’s not about a perfectly equal ledger of favors and effort, but it is about balance and compromise and care."

Getting More: "I will warn you now, I won’t get this right. Not perfectly, not at all. I’d be a fool to suggest otherwise. But I will try. And I will learn. If I have one virtue, it’s adaptation. I can promise you that much."

[annacory-blog]

Fanart on fanfic - First time ever.

Well, here is the thing. I am not much a fanart person, did few in my life. But fanart for fanfic - is a complete novelty.

However when you fell in love with a relatively rare pairing, you run out of things to stare at quickly. And now I feel a need to add something for other people to stare!

This is a fanart for fanfic of @ulysses000 that can be loosely translated from Russian as "Challenges of shared living space".

Below the art is a little translation, to give this scene some context!

"Well" - Trafalgar starts with mocking tone - "I thought you would be more upset about loosing the game." Sanji hides sly smile behind the glass of wine.

"I think you didn't get it, benet. Who have lost? This was a clear win. At least for Luffy. Who cares if we were stripped of all the points and disqualified?!"

"You have lost. Just accept it." Sanji makes another sip. His eyes remains locked on eyes. They are full of challenge, unknown trepidation, ocean of confusing playfulness.

"Then maybe you'll allow me to smoke in the room as a consolation prize?" - he asks. Glass of wine put aside with almost no sound, and Sanji moves tiny bit closer.

"No. " - Law replies with a smirk. Feeling other's warm palms gently pressed to his arm and chest.

"Pretty pleeeease" - Sanji begs. Voice pleading, sweet. Fingers slightly tighten, - "We didn't get an S rank just now, only because my body impitoyablement demands nicotine."

"No." - Law stretches the sound with pretence arrogance, putting his empty glass aside too.

"May be you can… I don't know lift me outside the window, so i can smoke? You did it during the game, haven't you.." Trafalgar immediately gets what younger is talking about. He snickers with closed mouth, happy his abilities were praised, alas slightly overestimated.

"On the game I haven't lifted you, I have lift your load bearing vest. I can only move inanimate objects."

"Et alors? I am sure you can come up with an idea. Je ne veus pas descendre... Cent pour cent porter will get mad. She'll get that i am drunk…" Law thinks if there is actually anything he can do. There is one option, but older man utterly confused, why he is even bothered with nearly childish demands of the blond? Why him being unnecessary tactile and shamelessly occupying Law's bed, is not at all irritating? On a contrary feels natural. It might be the alcohol. For sure it is alcohol!

"That depends to which extend you are willing to go for a single smoke…" - Trafalgar's voice is sinister, but Sanji, nevertheless, perks up with the hope. Blue sphere covers their dorm room, and butterfly knife slowly creeps out of backpack pocket and jumps to Law's hand.

"I can cut off you head." - he suggests. Blue eyes shining in a soft light of a table lamp. Sanji smiles with half mad smile, almost as a serial killer, or a drug addict on his high - confident.

"Go for it." If only for his own comfort, Trafalgar throws one leg over and sits on Sanji's laps. One hand holds head, lifts it slightly to expose refined neck. Vein pulses under soft, translucent skin. Law swallows nervously. Sharp knife pressed to the skin while he considers best trajectory for the cut.

"Are you not scared?" - Trafalgar asks. Question mostly directed to him self, as he feels suddenly confused, thoughts scattered.

"Nope." - Sanji's eyes are half opened, relaxed. - "I know you wouldn't kill me."

[iambic-stan]

Concertina

Writing this story was very therapeutic for me. I hope someone else, cardiophile or otherwise, can get some comfort and reassurance out of it, too.

"I'm not policing what you think and dream," was the lyric I fixated on, though it was only the first verse of the song.  Every explanation of the song "Concertina" I'd read contradicted my own interpretation.  Wasn't it mostly a song about feeling bold enough to be strange, even if it was frightening?  There was applause in the bar when I finished, and made me feel like the risk of a new track selection had paid off.  Tori clapped with the most vigor, as she usually does.

"Girl, who sang that one?" she asked, noting that it was different from my usual selections like Stevie Nicks and Pat Benetar.  I stared at her drink, something with pineapple and gin if I recalled, with this hypnotic red-orange-yellow ombre effect.  Without taking my eyes off of it, I said, "It was a Tori Amos song.  Not a big hit or anything though.  You share a name," I said, lightly touching her shoulder, "You should sing something of hers one night."

"Not if the DJ has anything Taylor," she laughed.  It was fair.  Tori loved to sing Taylor Swift at karaoke, just like how she loved to talk about Gaylor theories, analyze her lyrics, speculate about what her various IG and Tumblr posts might foretell, and scour Stubhub and every other possible site for the least-bankrupting concert tickets.  I was just along for the ride, though I had a couple of her albums at home myself.

"Ok, do something from Lover," I suggested.  

"I don't know.  What if all they have is "YNTCD?" she whined, abbreviating Taylor's divisive LGBTQ anthem from 2019, one that I happened to enjoy despite any criticism.  

"I know you like it, and maybe I'm being a terrible Swiftie, but isn't she just trying to hijack our trauma and claim it as hers?  *Unless* she is gay but didn't want to say so explicitly in the song.  It's great that she gave so many queer people screen time.  I didn't even know who Billy Porter was until I saw the video.  But then again, why did she make it about resolving her beef with Katy Perry?  That was so random.  Anyway, I'll see what I can do...for you, Elena."  She ran her hand down my arm and then squeezed my hand for a second.  She's drunk, I thought, but I appreciated the affection.  Her hand was soft and it felt right--sensual without the suggestion of something more.  I wouldn't want anything more.  

Well, that wasn't entirely true.  I had come to feel at home with Tori over the past year--my first close friend since college who also happened to be queer.  I had lingered longer when hugging her, and since she knew I was asexual, I didn't think she ever took anything the "wrong" way.  At home I had a bright magenta stethoscope that sat on my nightstand, waiting.  But since I'd never told Tori that 1) I loved heart sounds, 2) loved using stethoscopes, and 3) wanted to use one with her, my stethoscope could have been waiting for Godot.  I had strongly considered putting her (the stethoscope--named Alex for my love of Wizards of Waverly Place) in the living room so that Tori could just happen to notice her while we were watching a movie.  But I played the conversation out in my head and felt mortified with every possible script I wrote.  Still, whenever I pictured her wearing the binaurals and listening to my heart, I felt like skipping through a field of daisies.  It just seemed like I was struggling with level one of a video game while ravenously reading walkthroughs of the battle with the final boss I might never meet.  Not that it was a game to me--my love of heart sounds was and always had been one of the most important things in my life.  It kept me sane and grounded, and most of all, it was how I felt close to someone I cared about.

I felt a bit of envy as I watched her throw her arm around the DJ, whose adorable curly head of hair and petite stature brought to mind Jorgeous from one of my favorite shows--Rupaul's Drag Race.  But I wasn't jealous that Not-Jorgeous was enjoying Tori's affection; I wished I could have that sort of magnetism that drew everyone to me and put them immediately at ease.  Trauma had prevented me from being so gregarious.  I watched as four more karaoke singers ran up to Tori, happy to see a familiar face (she was there every week) and get their expected hug.  No, I didn't necessarily want that much attention, I realized--I only wanted the confidence and grace to be completely open with her.

When I heard the first few sharp, synth-laden notes, I knew exactly what song it was.  Tori was deadly serious in her delivery and everyone in the bar turned to gaze at this tall, striking woman who would almost look imposing if her face weren't so soft and kind.  "Combat, I'm ready for combat," she sang, and I was shocked that the DJ would have this track from Taylor's Lover album that we could agree on.  In a moment of accountability that Taylor-haters never acknowledge, the singer tells us she's been "the archer" and "the prey," and feared her propensity for causing hurt as well as her own crippling wounds might make her difficult to live with.  As Tori deftly crescendoed her way into the bridge (I had been given numerous lectures on her distinctive bridges), I felt like my heart beat louder as well.  Suddenly embarrassed, I turned away and stepped onto the bar's patio, my long wrap skirt catching a doorknob in my haste.  I pulled it out and turned to look at the wisteria still bright near sundown and the brick water feature with the goldfish.  There was a couple in the corner deep in conversation, voices so hushed I couldn't make out a single word. That was my last drink, I thought, staring at the crescent moon and the smattering of stars I could see in spite of light pollution.  I felt too much; why didn't alcohol make me numb like it did everyone else?

"Hey, did you like it?" I heard her say behind me.  I turned and saw the sheepish grin on her face.

"Oh, it was beautiful!" I exclaimed.  "I was just out here getting some air is all."  

"I was thinking about what you said last week."  She came closer and put her arms around me as she said it.  My head landed near her chest, and I could almost hear something if it weren't for her thick jacket.  I let myself fall into her embrace.  "I think it would be exciting, actually.  I want to do it.  I've never done that with anyone before," she continued.

I racked my brain and tried to remember what she could be talking about, slowly recalling that I'd had 3 cocktails and 2 shots last week.  There were a few portions of my last karaoke night that I didn't recall at all.  "Wait, what are you talking about?"

She looked at me, her eyes crinkled a little.  Gently, she pushed my hair out of my face.  "You're such a silly drunk and you don't remember any of it," she said, shaking her head.  "You surprised the hell out of me by talking about having a stethoscope and wanting to listen to my heartbeat.  And that you wanted me to listen to your heartbeat.  And I was speechless because that seemed like such a weird, random thing to say.  But then I thought about it and I'm really curious now.  None of my girlfriends ever wanted to do something like that.  Not that you're my girlfriend, but a friend who happens to be a girl, anyway.  I'm down."

I breathed in sharply.  How could I have said all of that without realizing what I was divulging?  My heart was really pounding then, and as if she read my mind, she placed her hand on my chest.  "Oh!" she squeaked, surprised.  "Am I embarrassing you?  Please don't feel that way!  I guess I should've thought you might've forgotten, like that time you went on for like 10 minutes about whether Drag Race All Stars is rigged like you were the only person in the room and had zero recollection of it the next day."  Without really thinking, I quickly placed my hand over hers, holding it fast to my chest.  Her hand so near my heart felt just right somehow.  I closed my eyes and only opened them when she pulled away to check her phone.

"Our Uber is on its way.  I told them to go to your apartment.  Is that ok?  Mine is a mess and Savannah has her boyfriend over, anyway.  He always brings that cheap, stinky weed.  Plus, we could watch more Babylon 5.  I want to see if the praying mantis thing is a 'legitimate businessman' ha."

The N'Grath reference made me smile.  "That sounds great," I almost slur, grinning like an idiot.

Mollie, my dachshund, is almost wider than she is long, so it's a struggle for her to make it up to the couch to properly greet Tori when she comes over.  This night was no different.  "She doesn't even eat that much," I said for probably the twentieth time.  "It's like she just has the worst possible metabolism, poor babe."  I stroked under her chin.

The DVD was loaded, and with the confidence that only alcohol could summon in me, I'd stealthily transferred Alex from my bedroom to the coffee table in the living room while Tori was in the bathroom.  When she emerged, she smiled all big and plopped back down on the couch.  My voice boomed in my head when I picked up the stethoscope and said, "This is Alex.  She was named for Alex Russo, you know, when I was younger.  Well, not that much younger.  But still.  Yes, I know it was a kids' show," I say shyly, wondering why I can't shut up.

Tori laughed and picked her up, turning the chestpiece around over and over again to switch from diaphragm to bell, hearing that satisfying click each time.  "She doubles as a fidget toy, I see," she said.  "Oh what's that?" I had to follow her gaze because I was staring at her chest (not her breasts--give me some credit) rising and falling and could barely think of anything else.  She picked up a pill bottle from the coffee table, one that I usually put away when someone is over out of an overabundance of caution. But I hadn't realized we were both coming back here tonight.  "Spiro?" she asked.  "I used to take that, like in my 20s when my acne was a lot worse.  What do you take it for?" she asked innocently.

I looked up at her, struck dumb and wordless.  We both stared in silence for a few seconds too long, and that was when it dawned on me.  Elena, she doesn't know, you moron.  You're about to ask her to do something intimate and she doesn't know.  Does it matter?  Maybe, maybe not.  I sighed.  This was not the way I wanted her to find out.  What if she changed her mind, decided I'm not one of her girl friends after all?  What if she declared this some kind of "trick"?  What if she got mad, felt betrayed, and blabbed all over social media?  What if it got out at work?  This wasn't something to play with, I realized, and it made me feel like I was suffocating suddenly, imagining all the worst case scenarios. They flicked through my brain rapidly, like someone pressing the lever on one of those retro viewfinders at lightning speed, taking in all of the little thumbnails in a blur.  I gasped and then deliberately began to breathe in and out very slowly and evenly.  I grabbed the arm of the couch as if I was falling.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry.  You don't have to answer that.  It's none of my business," she insisted apologetically.  I could tell she was uncomfortable.  I had made her uncomfortable.  But it didn't feel like there was any escaping it now.  The mood had changed dramatically, all thanks to my reaction to her question, and as much as I yearned for her to listen to my heart and had pictured it many times in the last few months, it was pounding because I was terrified.  She put Alex down on the couch, where Mollie reached over to lick her eartips, and took my hand.  "What's wrong?" she whispered.

I looked up at her and it felt like someone else's voice when I choked out, "I'm trans."  Her brow furrowed.  When she didn't respond right away, I added, in a whispered rush, "I grew up a boy.  I mean I'm not one.  I never was.  I thought you knew.  That's what the prescription is for."  I exhaled loudly, then realized I'd been staring at the floor and not facing Tori.  She let my hand go, almost in slow-motion, and she looked at my body as though she was seeing it for the first time.  Oh god, I winced.  Please don't look for masculine things.  

"I'm such an idiot," she finally said, almost inaudibly.  I stared in horror as she said,  "Why didn't I know?!?"  

I felt my mouth go dry.  My voice was hoarse.  "It's not like I wanted everyone to know," I said.  "It's not like I want to lose my job."

"Oh, Elena!" she exclaimed.  "You weren't thinking it would make a difference, were you?"  When I didn't respond, she wrapped her arms tightly around me, and tears flooded my vision.  "You're one of my best friends.  You're my only friend who will go with me to karaoke, for one," she laughed.  "You're the only person besides my mom who listened to me carry on about my undying devotion to Amari, even after the third time she fucking cheated.  Not my finest moment, but that woman had a hold on me."  I inadvertently let out a snort, remembering her beautiful but treacherous ex. 

She kept one arm around me and reached again for Alex.  "She's probably got Mollie slobber on her now," I pointed out.

"Ha, I'm not worried about it," Tori said.  I watched her insert the ear tips, thinking she had a 50/50 chance of putting them in correctly, and she managed it.  There was something transformative about her wearing the binaurals, and it dried my tears to see it.  She was only about ten years my senior, but in that moment I felt like the child I was always meant to be--one who was free to play how I wanted, with whatever toys I wanted, and just be who I was without being called names I didn't even understand.  She was the older, wiser one who could really see me.  I was safe.  She unfastened just the top button of my shirt and I looked at her face as I could feel the coolness of the metal circle on my skin.

A minute passed, then another, and they were brief but filled with knowing that she could hear me so well.  "That's so cool," she said softly.  "It was fast at first and now it's slow and steady.  I kind of feel like...I know you in a new way," she smiled and looked at my face before looking back down at the instrument.  I felt so happy I thought I could cry again.  She moved the chestpiece around--left and right and center, then between my breasts.  "It sounds different in different areas," she observed.  "Like, the first sound is louder in some places and the second is louder in others."

"You're listening near a different valve each time," I whispered, thrilled that she heard those nuances that most ordinary people don't seem attuned to.  She nodded, the look on her face one of wonder.  I breathed along with her for another few minutes while she listened, and it felt like the sort of connection I only dreamed of feeling, knowing that most people don't "get" this.  I felt almost reborn, and completely satiated. 

When it was my turn to listen, I tried to push past my reservations and self-doubt.  "Is it ok if I put this under your shirt?" I asked tentatively, pointing while holding the chestpiece.  

"Girl, yes!" she practically sputtered.  "After all the poking around I just did?  It's only fair," she laughed.

Mollie jumped up to grab and lick my hand as I moved to place the stethoscope on Tori's chest, and we both had to stop what we were doing to laugh.  When I slipped it underneath her blouse, the sound was clear and strong.  She watched my eyes as I breathed in several systoles and diastoles and it made her smile.  First, I listened for the semilunar valves--aortic and pulmonic, then, gaining confidence in what could have been an uncomfortable endeavor, moved downward to listen properly at the atrioventricular valves--tricuspid and mitral.  Tori leaned forward so I could easily access these different auscultation points.  I stayed at each one for awhile, trying to commit this sound to memory in case we never did this again.  When I was finished, she said, "Wow, that was kind of a vulnerable feeling but not in a bad way."

"You sounded so, so beautiful," I told her softly, and was pleased when that display of raw emotions didn't elicit a raised eyebrow.  This wasn't a night I'd forget anytime soon.

Thanks so much for reading! If you're able and would like to, click here to donate to the Trans Lifeline, a hotline that provides life-saving assistance to trans people, staffed by trans people.

[kindofsortofmaybe]

If you’re still doing prompts, maybe Gus introducing Matt to the wonder of human musicals? I’m thinking about the Hamilton shirt again :p

HAHA the hamilton shirt!! yes theater kid matt rights!!

sorry this took a bit longer bc my computer decided to reboot in the middle of my writing : ) it's f i n e. this isn't my usual content, so i enjoyed the challenge! this was fun to write, thanks for the prompt!!! <3

Dramatic

“Okay, so this one’s called Be More Chill, and it’s about this guy who gets a SQUIP put into his head, so then—”

“Whoa, wait, slow down, Porter. He gets a who-what in his head?” Matt asked, sitting in a strange upside-down position on the Porter’s living room couch. He was holding a CD case for a soundtrack that Gus had just popped into the old CD player on the floor beside him, borrowed from the Nocedas. Matt read the back of the case, attempting to keep up with what Gus was telling him about some human thing called “musicals.” 

“If you would let me speak, maybe you’d find out,” Gus retorted. “SQUIP stands for Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“It’s like a computer.”

“A what?”

“Oh, right, you’ve never seen a computer. It’s—oh! It’s kind of like a scroll.”

“So there’s magic?”

“Um… no. Not in this musical, at least.”

“Porter, you’re losing me. Why do I need to care about these things, again?”

“Okay,” Gus sighed, “maybe this wasn’t a good one to start with. How about…” He sifted through the CDs Luz had lent him. “Oh! This one’s super popular in the human realm. I don’t think it’ll be too hard to understand.”

“Lay it on me,” Matt challenged as Gus swapped out the CDs. 

“Alright, this one is called Hamilton. It’s historical fiction, sort of. It kind of—well, it’s sort of like the Deadwardian Era, except in the human realm and also kind of different. But it’s about the people that founded the place that Luz is from.” 

“Sounds boring,” Matt said. He slid down from the couch and then shifted into an upright position, seating himself next to Gus. “Let’s get into it.” 

Gus pressed play on the CD player, and Matt’s ears practically perked up at the opening notes. Surprisingly, they sounded promising to him. 

Around two hours later, Matt was laid flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling as he tried to process the way his life had just completely changed. Finally, the notes faded into nothing, and the light whirring of the CD stopped. 

“Is that it?” Matt exclaimed, shooting up to stare at Gus accusingly. 

“Yeah, dude, that’s it.” Gus looked far too amused. Matt’s head was spinning.

“The drama… the highs and lows… the struggle for power, his fight with his own ambition… Augustus, I’ve never related to something more in my life,” Matt said seriously, and Gus did everything he could to stop himself from laughing. 

“Yeah, right… I’m glad you like it, Matty.”

“You’re telling me there’s more of these things in the human realm?”

“Tons more. We’ve barely gotten started.” 

“Well what are we waiting for?! Play me a musical, Porter!” Laughing, Gus put in a new CD. He was glad to see his friend so eager, so interested in something. 

“Maybe we should see a musical in the human realm. You know, together,” Gus proposed. He avoided eye contact, wanting Matt to understand the unspoken like a date and simultaneously hoping that Matt thought he meant it completely platonically.

“You can watch these?!” The older witch exclaimed, trying to mask his delight with indifferent surprise. It didn’t work. 

“Yeah, dude, you’re supposed to watch them.” 

“Oh my Titan. Augustus, you changed my life today.”

“Matt Tholomule, you are over-dramatic. No wonder you love these things.”

[pinksparkl]

Spoilers for Summit | Vampire Justice

In which I come up with a number of headcanon theories and other assorted nonsense

[For anyone who actually reads these... I apologise for any incoherence, I don't write these linearly]

Welp. Justice was definitely served.

Porter got ALL of the best lines, it's literally not even fair. I had to rewind so many times for half of the things he said.

For hilarity alone, he moves up a few slots in my non-numbered list that follows no metrics whatsoever and changes daily if not hourly.

Although, he's getting waaaaay too comfortable playing the sassy "I don't care about anything" role. I kinda hope he sticks around to spend some more time with Treasure~~ 😲 but what if he doesn't!! What if he just leaves after the Summit? Poor Treasure! Either he did/will wipe their memory rehardless of what they wanted, or he leaves them as a Covert breach and kinda heartbroken... (depending on how emotionally attached they let themself get after one night, possibly more) The drama that would cause, though 😂😂😂

I also had to rewind basically all of the beginning of the Vampire trial because I was too busy chanting "Vampire Law!" in my head. 😂

Umm... I'm thinking Lovely's definitely having a lil Adam-related-flashback-PTSD after that bit of justice. If they weren't already a vamp, all of the blood just left their face, can somebody get them a drink, please? Something sugary at least.

(Drinking game: take a shot every time Adam's name or surname is said 😂)

It's kinda crazy that Christopher wasn't given any time to appeal the ruling at all. Yeesh. Vampire Law is harsh.

And lol at Porter's "the House of Bennett just lost the game" no.1 sir, how dare you. no.2 I like the callback to Vincent telling Lovely about previous Summits. "Well the Summit's kind of like a game, and if there's one thing that the whole House can agree on is that we play to win."

Though, it makes me think that this was bit of a kangaroo court... I know I said that I suspected Christopher after the 1st audio, but if he wasn't in the room at the time... and he seemed too calm.

He was framed. But by who? Maybe the House that Porter mentioned that fights with the Bennetts over territory? Otherwise... who would have something to gain from a House losing both their king and their prince in one evening?

Also! What kind of lies were CloseKnit spinning for the Bennetts anyways? Anything to do with d(a)emons is absolutely not something that Vampires want or care about. They obviously don't want to be ruled by d(a)emons, they don't (can't) consume d(a)emon blood, a promise of immortality is redundant... So what could a supposed d(a)emon-hating-Sovereign-worshipping cult offer to a House of vamps?

Oh, and wow at Porter being a such a skilled magic user~~ He can Phase and Cloak and use Graviton magic? Amazing! Man either must've been a powerful Freelancer (how many FLs do we have now? 4-5? Cool.) OR, now stay with me on this one, a Seer.

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A SEER IS TURNED

Like, obviously they'd lose their Seer abilities and all connection to their previous Core, but something must remain, like the possibilty to be skilled at that many disciplines of magic at any one time.

Please let this be true~~

I want need more Seer lore~~~

The fact that d(a)emon blood degrades over time when outside of the body (and also weakens the d(a)emon that "donated" it is some very interesting information.

I love the meta of hearing about things in both the Prime and Imperium universes~ helps to fill in some of the blanks~~

What's the chances we're gonna get Summit audios and non-Summit audios interchangeably until this whole debacle is solved? Who's our money on for the next one? Caelum? Guy? Camelopardalis? Or are we thinking Project Meridian? Carpe Deus? Hush?

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Could I get NightStalker for Porter Gage? 💁🏼

Why, yes. Yes, you certainly may :3

And I decided to go with the 1st name on this one!

Also, this one's a tad NSFW, so heads up on that!

P) PDA. How do they feel about public displays of affection? What kind of PDA do they show?

Ehhhh, it's not really for him. Now, things are a little different if he sees somebody else gettin' handsy with you, but for the most part, Gage likes to save it for your alone time. He doesn't need every raider and their goddamned mother talking about how soft the new Overboss makes him. The most he'll do is put an arm around you, or lay a hand on your thigh, and even then, it's usually only when he sees somebody eyeing you.

O) Open. How long does it take for them to open up to their s/o?

He ain't been open with anyone before. Not really. There ain't no therapists for raiders, and relationships are scarce as spare caps in Nuka World, so you... you're somethin' of a novelty to him. Though, when he gets used to bein' around you all the time, it's easier to be open with you than he ever thought it would be. It's nice for someone else to know your thoughts and your past, it makes him feel like somebody actually cares, like... the world would really change if he weren't in it. At least, it would change for you. It's not the most pleasant thought, but it's the most significant the old raider's ever felt.

R) Reunion. How do they react after being apart from their s/o? How do they cope when they’re away?

God, its boring when you're not around. Back to what it was like in the last of the Colter days. Just him and the parks, and with you running them, who was he kidding? There was damn near nothing to do. Gage occupies his time by cleaning his guns and knives, maybe working on his armor, but he ain't too happy about it. When you get back though? You'd better be ready. He'll grump and growl about you leaving him behind, even as he tackles you to the ground, tearing off your clothes as he ravishes and leaves you breathless, even through all his complaining, just showing you how grateful he really is that you're back.

T) Thrill. Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine? 

Well, you don't need to try all these new things or nothin', but... couldn't really hurt, right? He don't mind just a bit of routine, he knows you've gotta keep things in order, but when it comes to you and him? It sure is fun mixing things up a bit, 'specially where fucking is concerned.

E) Equal. Do they prefer to be more dominant or submissive in the relationship?

Gage is actually more flexible than most would think, particularly when it's just the two of you involved. You are the Boss, after all, but... He'd be lying if he said he didn't like to be in control. Out in the wastes, you're the Overboss, and he's your second, that's a given. But in the actual relationship? In the bedroom? Wouldn't it be sweet to let him take charge of you? Let you drop the crown for a while so your shoulders don't sag? Let someone order you around, for a change? Yeah... he thinks that sounds pretty alright.

R) -- Q) Quality Time. What do they like to do for quality time with their s/o?

Mostly he likes to spend time kicking ass with you. Raiders gotta raid, right? And the Overboss has gotta lead, gotta keep raiders and settlers both in line, right? That's always fun to do together. He also doesn't mind the mundane stuff. You being there when you've gotta mod up your weapons, patch up the armor, do some cap counting, it jus' makes it all a lil' more fun when you're in the room with him. When you're talking quality time with you specifically though, Gage has a few ideas of what he'd like to do...

Sex counts as quality time, don't it?

[dreamsister81]

THE LEAP INTO LEGEND

By Holly George Warren via the Coda Collection, 2021

He was the man with a thousand voices — or so it appeared. I experienced Jeff Buckley live a few times — and that first night, in 1993, a Monday at tiny Café Sin-é across from my East Village apartment in New York, is forever seared in my brain. Not knowing anything about him beforehand, I sized him up as just another cute guy with a guitar. Nearly three decades later, it has become increasingly apparent that I have never seen — nor do I expect to see again — a vocalist so spookily gifted.

Jeff Buckley leaves behind a story that seems scripted from myth. He is the SoCal boy descended from an angel-throated folksinger (Tim Buckley) who had died of a drug overdose at 28, when Jeff was only 8. He comes of age poor, toils in obscurity as a metal-band guitarist, seemingly unaware of — or resistant to — that which percolates within him. Landing in New York in his early 20s, he uncorks a five-octave voice to rival his father’s, and writes bold, baroque rock songs — multi-tiered, Zeppelin-esque anthems and keening, sex-drenched romantic balladry. He delivers them, alongside a crazy quilt of diverse covers, with operatic skill placing him among (some would say above) Freddie Mercury and Robert Plant. The latter would become a fan, as would Bono, Bowie, Lou Reed, Chrissie Hynde and Elvis Costello. At the height of his quick fame, natural forces — i.e. the Mississippi River — take him from this world, in an incomprehensible, freak 1997 drowning in Memphis. He would leave behind one studio album, “Grace,” and join the galaxy of brilliant comets who died too young, like Nick Drake and Gram Parsons.

Back to that Monday night in ’93. My singer-songwriter husband shared the bill with a sweaty 26-year-old Jeff Buckley at our St. Mark’s “local” — an Irish tea-and-coffee place by day that served beer and wine at night to about 30 people who’d pass the hat for neighborhood troubadours. No stage, just a spot where a table was shoved aside from the brick wall. My spouse lent him his capo so Buckley could play John Cale’s version of Leonard Cohen’s not-yet-ubiquitous “Hallelujah.” In my memory, the songs preceding this ranged from Porter Wagoner’s “A Satisfied Mind” to a Duane Eddy riff to an Edith Piaf chanson (in French), delivered with both offhand skill and devil-may-care goofiness, as around a boozy campfire or in someone’s smoky living room. Then came “Hallelujah.”

The disarmingly supple voice kicked into gear, encompassing all the sexual yearning and spiritual quest of that tune. Owning it. Murmuring, crooning, unabashedly howling — sometimes all within one line. The room collectively swooned. Rather than milk the moment, as the last echoes of “Hallelujah” faded, Buckley jokily — albeit expertly — picked out the intro to “Stairway to Heaven,” stopping to chat with the audience mid-song.

This was his routine, apparently. Slay, then lower expectations. I wonder now if the intentionally amateurish aspects weren’t so much impish boy stuff, but rather Buckley discovering his superpowers in the moment, onstage. Freaked out, he’d step back from that ledge, not yet ready to fly. Maybe he knew his low-stakes obscurity — what he later called his “café days” — would be short-lived, something to be savored.

Sure enough, within months, limos lined St. Mark’s Place on Monday nights, crowds spilled out onto the sidewalk and we watched from our fire escape as Jeff Buckley was spirited away to the big leagues. It all seemed foretold.

The footage of Buckley performing two years later with bassist Mick Groøndahl, guitarist Michael Tighe and drummer Matt Johnson at Chicago’s Metro on May 13, 1995, is peak Buckley. “Grace” has been out nine months, with Buckley touring nonstop ever since. It shows in the band’s effortless mastery of its boss’ often challenging material — the whisper-to-a-scream “Mojo Pin,” the spellbinding drama of “So Real,” the delicate, pandemonium-inducing “Lilac Wine,” all tracks from his debut.

By now, Buckley is in full possession of his preternatural voice, or rather, it is in full possession of him. Falsetto here, purr there, and a wail sourced from the Sufi Qawwali devotional music he loves and champions. Buckley rarely moves far from his mic, concentrating his energy on singing and executing impressive guitar work. But by the last third of the set, fully on, he steps into abandon: an instrumental of his work-in-progress “Vancouver,” segueing into the Alex Chilton/Big Star cover, “Kanga Roo,” which finds him excitedly pogoing (like a kangaroo?); a full-throttle version of the MC5 gangbuster “Kick Out the Jams,” on which he’s joined at the mic by a stage-diving guitar tech. Unlike most rock artists, he ends the show not with the typical rave-up, but rather sends his band away and leaves the crowd agog with a solo “Hallelujah.”

Between songs throughout the set, he resembles that guy I first saw in ’93, joking, listening to requests, vulnerable, smiling at the ardor beyond the stage lights. He gracefully handles the enthusiastic yelling and passionate outcry from the packed house, only once telling an obnoxious guy to fuck off (which gets a big laugh). But whereas at Sin-é, Buckley made holding back a riveting thing to watch, at Metro, he fulfills the promise he’d shown. He steps to the edge, and he flies.

Jeff Buckley “Live in Chicago” Setlist

Dream Brother

Lover, You Should’ve Come Over

Mojo Pin

So Real

Last Goodbye

Eternal Life

Kick Out the Jams (MC5 cover)

Lilac Wine (James Shelton cover)

What Will You Say

Grace

Vancouver

Kanga Roo (Big Star cover)

Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen cover)

[autocann1bal]

part seven of my playlist analysis!!

part 1 <;- part 2 &lt;- part 3 <- part 4 <- part 5 &lt;- part 6 <- soup soup soup welcome home - radical face lucy's return to portland row, lots of crying, lots of hugging, holly is very confused. very nice atmosphere. burn - malibu '92 lucy before l&co. just existing in that horrible horrible town working that horrible job. but she just. cant. leave. she cant leave. yet. look whos inside again - bo burnham LOOK I HAD TOO IM SORRY. its very lockwood after showing lucy and george whats in the room on the landing. he feels stuck. he feels like he cant get out of this damn house. every memory is still there, just fading. something super sweet - rory webley ik the actual song is about abusive partners and all that shit but if you thnik about it differently its. its lucy. lockwood keeps drawing her back no matter how hard she tries to get away. mr brightside - the killers OK THIS ONE IS SO FUNNY. HEAR ME OUT. after lockwood sees kipps and lucy talking outside he starts blasting this shit from his room and everyone can hear it and hes playing it as hes getting ready and lucy is gettnig ready in her room and is just like ????lockwood wtf and oh my god its so funny hes using a comb as a mic and is putting on a whole performance its hilarious. i bet on losing dogs - mitski oo different vibe from the last one LMAO. lockwood has fallen asleep in her lap after a long cry session, shes running her fingers through his hair and hes sleeping surprisingly peacfully, just thinking about how he might not make it, she starts to cry. looking out for you - joy again lucy after holly shows up, she feels replaced and like lockwood likes holly more, she feels like she should stop being so "obsessed" (in love) with him because he has holly now. she is so so wrong. cigarette daydreams - cage the elephant lockwood is in lucys lap again (im so origional and creative im sorry im just a sucker for pathetic men in their badass gfs lap) and hes talking about jess. she feels bad just cuz he was such a little kid, he didnt deserve to see that. you stupid bitch - girl in red self explanatory??? i think?? maybe i was boring - wilbur soot idk ik the songs r sad and all but it has such cozy reading together on a rainy day vibes. freaks - surfcurse this is so :(((( its so lockwood. OK i know what the lyrics are so dont come at me but if hypothetically the lyrics where "i am just a phase" itd make even more sense. the adults are talking - the strokes a song lucy blasted walking through her tiny town, maybe getting groceries or something like that. goodbye to a world - porter robinson gives lucy talking with the visitors vibes. fallen down - toby fox ermmm lets skip this one LMAOO ignore it arms tonight - mother mother oh boy this one is sad if you think about it for too long so dont think about it for too long :). cause for concern - lovejoy lockwood being reckless and throwing himself directly in harms way just because he wants to die so bad then whenever lucy or george try and ask about it he says its 'no cause for concern'. IT IS VERY MUCH A CAUSE FOR CONCERN. phonograph - piper madison lockwood and his dysfunctional brain and dysfunctional routines. garden in the backyard - bl lucy is sick and locky is takin care of she :>>. runaway - aurora lucys mind while on the walk to the trainstation, and walking through london, getting turned down by agencies over and over before finally arriving at lockwood and co.

this one is weirdly short but anyway ONTO PART 8 SOBS

[whoblewboobear]

In honor of iwtv!Rockstar Lestat I’m thinking about Rockstar Jace who takes a (honestly concerning) amount of interest in his new roadie/sound equipment manager Porter. After coming down from a month(s) long bender Jace is finally coherent enough to notice Porter during soundcheck. So he starts serenading him and getting super touchy feel-y. Porter kinda brushes it off, he’s toured with enough musicians to know they’re a special breed, ESPECIALLY the rockstars. But he’s a professional he would never-

That same night Jace is riding him in his dressing room and he does a bump of coke out of the dip of Porter’s clavicle and honestly? It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Jace being this fucked up also shouldn’t be this hot either and Porter is spiraling a bit but Jace is so tight and so fucking batshit the entire night and Porter really cant resist fucking him 2(-4) more times that night. Next day, Jace goes on a little mission to bug Porter before his show and Porter is just so flustered. He’s trying so hard to do his job and make sure everything goes smoothly. He’s like “Mr. Stardiamond, we’re all working very hard to make sure you have a great show tonight so if you could just FUCK OFF for a moment that’d be great~” and Jace is like huh okay, no one but my manager Zara talks to me like this.. kinda a turn on. But he does as he’s told and fucks off until it’s time for the show. But he has plans for Porter. So many that involve throwing his money and drugs around and letting Porter put him in his place whenever he likes.

Once the tour wraps, he asks if Porter would like to help out while he records his album in his home studio because his last sound equipment manager didn’t make house calls (for reasons Jace doesn’t want to discuss. Maybe he’s done this before, no one needs to know he’s a walking HR nightmare, he’s a rockstar he can do what he wants.) Porter agrees because the pay is incredible and traveling is fun but it takes a lot out of him and honestly, the perks of him and a few of his industry friends helping Jace make another hit album seems like a fun gig. And maybe fucking Jace on every surface in his mansion is a very appealing idea. He can handle Stardiamond. He’s just like every other fucked up musician. But uh oh.. the more time he spends with Jace the more he realizes that he isn’t that bad. A fucking whirlwind, sure, but in the quiet moments when he’s writing songs at his piano or having a quiet smoke on the balcony or meticulously arranging audio and re-recording harmonies, Porter is so endeared with him. He didn’t start doing his job for nothing, he wanted to make music himself but never quite broke through. Jace is a wonder to him, he wanted to resent him for pissing away an opportunity.

But Jace cares about the music, he does. The drugs and the flashy clothes and the money are fun. Very fun, until they aren’t. When he’s not trying to numb himself to the fucking shithole the music industry is, he still has music to comfort him. He’s so meticulous and careful about what he puts out. Which his manager loves. She loves a lot about him but even Zara would admit there are days that she sees him and her heart just hurts because he’s so far from the Jace she grew up with and talked about their dreams with. All those late nights in college where they painstakingly put together his first ep going off nothing but Red Bull and sleep deprivation. She remembers the night they finally heard back from the label and she negotiated a contract that was less shitty and intrusive than what Jace would’ve signed had she not been there. She misses him and she does like how good of an influence Porter can be on him. She’s glad there’s someone else there that doesn’t enable him- not all the time anyway.

Porter’s glad Zara’s around when she can be because everyone else buzzing around Jace is a kiss up or an enabler, but not her. On the bad days, she’s the first one to show up for Jace when everyone else makes themselves scarce. Jace tries not to notice the minute people scatter when he’s not offering party favors or lavish nights out. When the dust settles it’s Zara and.. Porter. Much to his surprise. And he feels a little bad for how over the top he was with him. One night, Porter comes over when he’s putting the finishing touches on the melody of a song, really into it and lost in the way every key sounds together. When he finishes, Porter is clapping and maybe that’s the only applause he really cares about.

[thesolaireslawyer]

Treasure who had the perfect gift planned for porter sitting right under the tree they decorated together. Going so far as to let him do their favorite part topping the tree with the star.

Even as they fiddled with the Shiney bow, they had glued on top. The one that was his favorite color. They could feel the tears prickle in the corners of their eyes and slowly making their way onto the Shiney box itself.

The 2 hadn't known each other well, but they cared about each other. Maybe? Treasure tried to blink away the remaining tears, but the memories flooding their mind was not helping with this process.

The first time, they were caught under that damn mistletoe. The way he so carefully grabbed their chin and bring them to combine.

Building a stupid gingerbread house, baking cookies and getting the flour everywhere-

This was stupid. All of this was stupid.

They placed the gift back under the tree. They needed a moment, a breather. Finding their way back to their room and just sat there, ever so often staring at the pile of laundry now on the floor.

The box under the tree contained a simple gift, a picture. Of them and Porter. Where did they get the time to take it? Who knows.

Wait y’all Porter and Treasure aren’t making up in time for Christmas (because I would personally doubt we get another Porter video that soon)

Oh the drama, the angst, the Christmas alone again and they’re both used to it but they just inexplicably can’t help but want the other because it’s Christmas and time to spend with who they love and that’s each other god damn it.

[madaboutmathers]

you and marshall get into an argument and ignores you all night at the studio, you walk out and leave and and a confrontation happens with you ending up in hospital

AN:Hi, I hope you like it x

You rolled your eyes at the silent treatment you were receiving from Marshall. He really could be so immature sometimes. The argument had been about nothing but of course he had to push and brush over your emotions and opinions. You leaned into the seat and tried to hide the eye roll you wanted to do.

The tension still moved around the room and you noticed the looks coming to both of you from his friends. You turned to look at him as his whole concentration was on the lyrics before him and you wondered why you were visiting him, at all. 

The silence continued as you tried to distract yourself with social media but even the cute and funny animal videos didn’t help you. You subtly began to message your friend in Detroit and asked to meet. Relief flooded you when you received the reply that she was in and free for you to come round. You replied back to her with a thanks whilst slowly moving to stand in silence. You turned around to begin packing up your stuff. You didn’t notice the looks coming your way as Marshall finally took his eyes from the paper. “Are you leaving?” His voice was softer than it had been only a few moments ago.

You looked over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. Oh, so now he wanted to speak, you thought to yourself. “Yeah.” You whispered, not giving him any more information as you placed your bag around your shoulder. The silence that followed was awkward as you took your car keys out. “Where?” His voice snapped you from your thoughts once more. “Why do you care?” You asked back. The others in the room watched the tennis game in front of him as you only stared. Marshall leaned into his chair, “I don’t.” He muttered and you masked your hurt with attitude. “Good.”

You didn’t say anything else and neither did he as Marshall watched you move out of the room silently. You hated how your heart was breaking with each step you took and you wondered if there was any going back. You didn’t notice the conversation taking place in the studio you had just walked from.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Fifty called him out whilst everyone tried to digest what had happened before them. “Yeah, I know.” Marshall hummed, placing his head in his hands as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You better make it right soon.” Porter added on, “She won’t handle being treated like that.” “I know..I’ll let her cool off.” Marshall whispered, his focus back to his lyric as the rap turned into a different direction.

~

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He adores you.” Your friend tried to give you some soft words as you sat on her sofa. “Yeah, maybe.” You whispered, hardly believing it yourself now as you ducked your head. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously whilst your eyes moved towards the phone; waiting for a message that never came. Things seemed to escalate from there as pounding on the door had you both jumping from your seats. “Shit! I didn’t think he would come back.” Your friend began to panic. “Your ex?” You asked and scolded yourself for not locking the door as he entered. “Didn’t I say you couldn’t leave me.” He shouted out instantly. “Don’t talk to her like that.” You stepped in front of your friend who nearly shook in fear. You didn’t see the first hit coming. “Fuck.” You muttered, the pain shooting through your face as he strikes again. “Stop.” Your friend shouted out and thankfully you didn’t feel the third hit coming across your face.

~

The beeping of machines had your eyes fluttering open as you moved slightly in a bed you didn’t remember getting into. “Don’t move.” A soft voice moved over your ears; it was familiar too. And you didn’t listen as you moved again. “Y/N..” The voice was closer now and your eyes stopped being blurry enough for you to see. “Marshall.” You softly whispered, moving your head to the side once more to find him. “What happened?” You hummed, hardly remembering anything. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about anything.” Marshall whispered into your ear, softly brushing your noses together. Your eyes fluttered once more as you lost yourself in his blues.

The argument between the two of you seemed so far away now and meant absolutely nothing. All you had for him was love, you thought to yourself and tried to ignore the slight pain of your injuries coming through. Marshall had never known such worry in his life and he’d been through so much. He hated that he hadn’t been there for you and you had gotten hurt because he had been such a dick. He shouldn’t have let you leave the studio. The blame wrapped around him tightly and made it hard to breath for a moment.

His fingers gently traced your bruised cheek. “I’m so sorry.” Marshall whispered and hid the tears in his eyes. “Don’t be…it’s not your fault.” You began to babble; your hand gently raised to stroke his cheek. “I love you.” You whispered up at him and a soft smile tugged on his face as he leaned in. “I love you too.” Marshall pressed another soft kiss to your forehead as you began to rest your head again. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here.” He promised you and kept a hold of your hand, softly playing with your fingers. Your sleepiness wrapped around you with the help of the pain medication and you missed his call.

“Yeah, Trick. I need a favour.”

[fizzyxcustard]

Love Language. 

Notes/Comments/Housekeeping: Welcome to my new head canon series, where I take 9 Richard Armitage characters and analyse them all in a particular situation and talk about how they'd react. As always, comments and reblogs are always welcome. Suggestions for future head canons are very welcome, too.

To start us off, I'm going to be looking at the love (romantic) language of each of the characters I've selected and appear in the header. Like with my fics, if you wish to be added to my tag list then let me know. You can either be tagged in everything (Follow Forever), or particular fics/head canons. Just state which you'd like to be added to.

So, let's get to it!

GUY OF GISBORNE: When in love, Guy is very passionate and wants you all to himself. Having never had anyone truly love him before and only manipulate him (I'm looking at that bitch Marian), Guy can come over a little intense at first. He brings you gifts, wants to kiss you and is constantly touching you. A warm and soft side to Guy comes out, parting the clouds of darkness that had been over him for years. You are his means to change for the better. He will make you his everything.

RAY LEVINE: Ray can't get enough of you. He'll practically buy you whatever you want and even go in debt to see you happy. A hopeless romantic, haunted by a lover who ghosted him. Ray may seem quite insecure at first, possibly jealous. But his heart only means well.

FATHER LORENZO QUART: He holds back for quite a while, feeling the love for you grow and when it bursts, then he knows he can't hold back anymore. Despite being a priest of the Catholic Church, Father Quart follows his heart and if that means following you, then he will do it. He will not let his faith hold him back from pursuing you and once you are his, he will cherish you.

THORIN OAKENSHIELD: Patient, kind, generous. Thorin will give you anything you ask for and constantly shower you with loving words. When you are in the same room, he has to be touching you. Thorin is always physically showing his love for you in his gestures, or his eyes watching you fondly from across a busy room.

FRANCIS DOLARHYDE: Francis doesn't know quite how to react to his emotions. He loves the fact that you care for him and that only fuels his deep feelings for you, until he kisses you suddenly. He instantly apologises, terrified that you will find him disgusting. Once he is reassured that you feel the same, he never wants to be away from you. Francis may become a little obsessed with you.

JOHN THORNTON: A man of tradition. John keeps his feelings for you very private at first, until you notice him watching you. He even asks after you through mutual friends, wanting to know how you are. But when those feelings are too much, he takes you aside and lays his heart bare to you. Passionate, kind. John will never stop showering you with loving words.

RAYMOND DE MERVILLE: Hardened off to the horrors of war. Raymond doesn't realise what love is when he first begins feeling it. He mistakes it for lust, and unhealthy obsession. He pursues you intensely, showing that he is interested in you sexually. But when you stand your ground, he backs down, shocked by you. Once he realises what love actually is, Raymond is fiercely protective, and to the point that he has no problem in killing anyone who dare harm you.

JOHN PORTER: Fun. Witty. Flirty. John Porter isn't a shy man by any means and will show his interest in you as soon as he feels it. But as your relationship with him grows, John begins to crave the more intimate gestures, such as hand holding, cuddling, sharing secrets. He buys you gifts, like most men would, but he also has a very patient and understanding side to him. John will sit with you for hours, listening to you talk, offloading. And then the next night he will happily take you out for a meal or to a pub for drinks.

LUCAS NORTH: Confident. Outgoing. Lucas doesn't show his interest in you immediately, outside of maybe a little banter. Then with time, he begins flirting. And as that grows, your relationship delves quite quickly into the territory of intensity. He tells you about his tattoos and night terrors, a result of being in a Russian prison for years. He bares all to you once he has your trust, and once he has your trust, you know that he will tell you everything about him. He buys the odd gift, but more than anything, he loves being with you once work has finished. He sees you as his refuge.

***

Follow Forever: @lathalea @i-did-not-mean-to @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @linasofia @xxbyimm @asgardianhobbit98 @knitastically @eunoiaastralwings @rachel1959 @luna-xial @guardianofrivendell @sunflwrnsunnieshine

[tnicc]

Dirty Secrets |SCREAM| Chapter 1

Stu Macher x OC x Billy Loomis

WARNING: This book will contain SMUT, drug use, death, and the typical illegal teenage lifestyle. Please do not interact if under 16.

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔. 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫.

Nothing made Caroline Porter want to die more than math class did. If it weren't for the absolute pervert of a teacher Mr. Adkins and the work that seemed to be on the level of a senior college class maybe it would be somewhat bearable.

But one thing that did not help make the class anymore enjoyable was her best friend, Stu Macher.

Stu sat behind her, constantly fucking with her by leaning over to whisper things in her ear to get her worked up in class or putting small pieces of balled up paper in her blonde curls.

Once, he even went as far as to try to give her a hickey while Mr. Adkins back was turned.  Luckily they sat in the back of the class so no one noticed except for Billy who sat beside the girl, he was quick to scold his friend but also had trouble hiding his amusement.

It was no secret to anyone that Caroline was closer to Stu and Billy than she was the rest of the group. Don't get her wrong, she had nothing against Sydney, Tatum, and Randy. She just didn't bond with them like she did her two boys.

Billy and Caroline were definitely the best of friends. They could have important conversations with educated opinions unlike it would be having a talk with Stu who never wanted to leave the topics of food and  sex.

When Billy had started dating Sydney it took Caroline by surprise. She was happy for the two of course, it was just hard to believe as the boy spent most of his time flirting with her.

Stu on the other hand had to be Caroline's favorite person on the planet. While he was annoying most of the time the girl couldn't imagine what life would be like without him.

When she had first moved to the small town she now calls home Stu was the first person to make sure she felt like she belonged. He stopped by her house everyday, invited her everywhere he went, Hell he even asked her to the back to school dance that was planned two weeks after she arrived.

She had of course said yes.

Most of the Woodsboro High School population expected the two to be a couple before Junior year. Now that they were seniors and there was still no progress on the two best friends relationship people were on the tip of their seat waiting to see who would make the first move.

"Helloooooooo." Stu said, leaning forward in his chair so he could wave his hands in front of Caroline's face. "Earth to Care Bear, what's going on babe you seem zoned out?"

Snapping out of it Caroline rolled her eyes and pushed his hands back down so she could see clearly again. "Nothing Stu, I was just thinking."

"About what?" Stu asked with a raised eyebrow as he scanned the room to look for anything that could have captured her attention.

Suddenly he gasped. "Oh my god, you were thinking about your massive hard on for Mr. Adkins weren't you? Geez Care you need to-"

"Shut up." The blonde hissed as she turned back in her seat to face him. "People are looking over here you loud ass goon. I'd rather people not spread a rumor about me having a hard on for-"

"Mrs. Porter." Mr Adkins said from the front of the class, staring at the girl with raised eyebrows. "Would you like to share those lovely words of wisdom with the class?"

Caroline's face paled and she heard Stu cough, obviously trying to cover up a laugh.

"No sir." She mumbled as she slowly turned back around in her seat.

"Oh but I would." Billy said causing Caroline to shoot him a pleading look. Hadn't he been asleep five seconds ago? "I believe what Ms. Porter was going to say was that she didn't want people to know she had a massive hard on for-"

"Stu!" Caroline quickly butted in. She was beyond embarrassed but she would rather her peers think she had a thing for the boy they were waiting for her to end up with rather than their perverted math teacher who was rumored to smoke pot between classes. "You heard it loud and clear folks, I have a RAGING hard on for Stu."

The class broke out into laughter as Stu pumped his fist up in the air in victory. "Hell yeah she does!"

He then leaned up and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek causing her to laugh and Billy to roll his eyes clearly not amused.

"Well that's lovely Caroline." Mr. Adkins said, clearly unimpressed with their antics. "Thanks for sharing that with the class."

"Hey, in her defense you did ask." Billy shrugged causing Mr. Adkins to roll his eyes and go back to teaching the lesson.

"Hey Billy." Caroline whispered, capturing the boys attention as she swatted Stu away before he could plant any more kisses on her face. "I'm going to kill you for that."

Billy smirked, his eyes flickering to Stu who had sat back and was trying to blow a giant bubble. He then leaned forward and beckoned Caroline to lean closer to him.

"I'd like to see you try." He whispered, holding eye contact with her as he spoke.

The two were quiet for a moment as they held the intense eye contact and blocked out the work around them. They were so into it they hadn't noticed Stu move his head between them as he rested it on his palm.

"Wow." He said breaking them out of their trance. "The sexual tension between you guys in immaculate. Sucks you got a girl huh Billy?"

Billy shot the taller boy a death glare before the bell rang and the group of three stood up to grab their belongings.

"But I don't happen to have one soooooo." Stu started as they made their way out into the hall and over to Caroline's locker that was right next to Tatums. "How about you come over later? We can put the hard on you have for me to good use." He said while wiggling his eyebrows.

"In your dreams." Caroline scoffed as she started putting her books away.

"I don't have to wait to see it in my dreams, I can just think about last time, which I do all the time." Stu said causing Billy and Caroline to share a look.

"Stu, Baby." Caroline started as she shut her locker and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We slept together one time our sophomore year, you need to let it go."

"Never gonna happen, we lost our virginity to each other, you don't forget important lifetime events like that." Stu said as he waged his finger in her face.

"Is Stu really talking about the virginity story again?" Tatum asked as she approached the group with Sydney and Randy, pushing Billy into Caroline as she moved him out of the way of her locker.

"Oh sorry Care." Billy mumbled as he grabbed onto her waist to steady himself causing her breath to hitch in her throat at the unexpected contact.

"It's okay." The blonde whispered as she looked up at him.

Still not letting go of her waist Billy held eye contact with the shorter girl, a smirk growing on his face as he noticed how nervous he was.

"Ain't that right baby?" Stu asked Caroline causing her to step away from Billy and turn her attention to him, but not before glancing to see if Sydney had noticed their little intimate moment.

Luckily she was to busy talking to Randy to pay any attention to them.

"Babyyyyyy." Stu sung as he walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her to his chest. "You gonna answer my question?" He whispered into her ear as he gave her side a small squeeze.

"What question?" She asked distractedly, only being able to focus on his warm body against hers and Billy's hand resting on the small of her back hidden from the groups gazes.

Stu chucked and buried his head in her hair and mumbled the question into her neck. "You're hanging out with Billy and I and my place tonight, right?"

Caroline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as Stu finally pulled away and settled with moving to wrap his arms around her waist from behind as Billy removed his hand from her back.

"I thought we were all hanging out as a group tonight?" She asked with confusion laced in her tone.

"I have to work." Randy butted into the conversation for the first time since he had arrived. "Boss told me last minute, it's some bullshit really."

"Tate and I changed our plans, we have some things we want to talk about in private." Sydney said as she gave Tatum a smile so quick it was barely noticeable.

Tatum smirked as she walked over to Sydney and liked their arms together. "Yup, we should probably be heading out now actually. Are you dropping us off Randy?"

"Yup." Randy nodded before looking back at his other three friends. "Sorry to bail on you guys, but I'm sure you will have enough fun doing whatever the hell you three do when your together."

And with that he walked off leaving the group of three in silence for a moment before Caroline spun around in Stu's arms and hit him on the chest.

"I told you!" She exclaimed. "They are totally sleeping together!"

"Who?" Stu asked as he tilted his head to the side like a lost puppy. "Randy and Tatum?"

"'No doofus!" She exclaimed before looking over to Billy and wincing. "Sorry Billy boy, but I think your girls got a girl."

Billy simply shrugged. "What can you do."

"What do you- OH GOD!" Stu gasped as her words finally hit him. "Sydney and Tatum? You really think so?"

Caroline nodded furiously. "I've been saying this since freshman year, they are one hundred percent a thing it's so obvious."

Stu then turned to Billy. "Damn man, what does that make you? A cover up?"

Caroline snorted as Billy flipped him off and the three turned to walk to the schools exit.

"I've known for a while honestly." Billy said with a shrug as he grabbed Caroline's bag and slung it over his shoulder.

Stu and Billy would never let her carry her own bag, they hadn't since she moved there and she's learned not to fight with them over it as the years passed.

"Then why don't you break up with her?" Caroline asked curiously as she looked up at the moving clouds above them.

She was so interested in looking for shapes in the white fluffs in the sky above them that she didn't notice the look the two boys shared behind her back.

"I have a plan." Billy said, looking down at the blonde in adoration as she squinted her eyes up at the sky.

"Well as long as your happy that's all that matters." She said with a smile as she finally turned her attention back to him.

Stu threw his arm around her shoulder and shook her gently as they reached his car.

"So my place, movies, and cheep beer?" He asked with a raised eyebrow as he threw Billy the car keys.

As nice as the car was, Stu hated driving and often let Billy take over.

It definitely wasn't because it was only a two person car so Caroline was forced to sit on the person in the passenger seats lap. Not at all.

"Sounds good to me." The blonde said as she hoped onto Stus lap and closed the car door behind her.

Stu started to bounce her around in his lap and she was quick to send him a glare. "Don't make me walk home Stuart."

"Ooooo she just pulled out the full name card on youuuuu." Billy teased as he whipped out of the school parking lot.

Stu frowned. "You know I hate when you call me that."

Caroline looked at him for a moment before giving into his puppy eyes with a sigh. "Fine, I'm sorry baby."

Like a kid on Christmas Stus face lit up and he squeezed her closer to his body before kissing her on the cheek. "That's better."

"So what are we watching?" Caroline asked as she turned in Stus lap so she could face both boys.

"How about Halloween?" Billy suggested causing his friends to nod in agreement.

"Halloween it is."