#next time i go reading about kurt ill see what i get and how i see it but tl;dr i dont think he was trans

[meatsex]

whats ur opinion on the kurt was trans theories?

id have to do more reading about him and do so with the scope of looking for signs of him being transgender other than the show where he wore a dress and pictures where him and the other two were using skirts i think? it seems to be an idea thats brought up often within fan circles (take what im saying with a grain of salt cuz online circles =/= real life circles which are the actual deal)

i dont think thats something that he considered, obviously this is just my speculation, he seemed more like the kind of guy that would support the communities he advocated for and well, supported rather than just partaking actively in them (in the sense that for example i dont think he was a gay man, although "partaking" in them would only really apply to this specific case i guess) soooo basically an ally

i dont think ive seen lyricism or commentary that would imply this idea, i havent read his journals yet, but ultimately im not a trans woman so i feel like i might lack the connection one could find in (theoretical hypothetical) proof of kurt being transgender

ultimately i think either way making theorizing on the gender or sexuality of people alive or dead will always be a bit weird, especially since i feel like these are way more sensitive and personal topics that only said person should explore and decide on what they share about that

[catchingbigfish]

🤔

🤔 - What's the inspiration behind my WIP

ohhhh thank you for asking! i kept promising to eventually make this post for So It Goes but never got around to it because i felt like it was verging on trauma dumping to do an unsolicited breakdown of this. i'm going to go into the sad stuff at the end, but it's under a cut! @indecentpause, @thelittlestspider, and @brazenlip also sent this emoji so tagging for ref!

so, first off, i read Slaughterhouse-five by Kurt Vonnegut in middle school. one of the perks of growing up in Indiana is that you're really hammered away at about how important Vonnegut is (he was an Indianapolis native) and there's even a super cool museum about him. i was blown away and absolutely loved it. it was required reading later in high school and i loved it then too but yeah, it was a huge impact on me. the reason this is relevant is because throughout the novel, whenever someone or something dies, he writes, "So it goes." just like that. and the first time i read it and came to the scene where (iirc) someone throws a paper ball and it misses the trash can, and he says, "So it goes", i burst out laughing.

this also factors into the Sad Girl Shit you'll read in a second if you're curious, but i might be the world's biggest mac miller fan. not really, but i actually was in his like top .5% of listeners in 2020 on spotify, so close. his song So It Goes factors into the sad shit, but i just love the song.

okay so i'm going to write the rest of this under the cut and specify a content warning for potentially upsetting topics related to deaths of relatives and friends!! just a heads up for anyone who's sensitive to that. i'm totally comfortable talking about this and i don't need anyone to tell me how sorry they are for me -- it's just a matter of fact now and i'm totally used to talking about it, but i feel bad when i share it with people and they get sad because of me. you don't need to!! i'm fine!! don't be sad on my account!!

alright so historically speaking i've dealt with like… a lot of death. most of it was clustered in my teens and early 20s, but without getting too far into the weeds i'll say i probably lost around 20 relatives and friends before i turned 22, and i lost my dad when i was 21. only a handful were due to illness/expected, the vast majority were accidents, overdoses, and violence related.

what really sparked SIG, though, is when a few years ago i was walking home from the bus stop after work and heard the mac miller song, then learned about a death.

before i move on, let me tell you about a friend of my sister's. i'm going to call him Isaiah, because that's why Isaiah-the-character exists -- this friend.

Isaiah was an absolute joy. sometime earlier in the year, i ran into him at his job, and it just filled me up with the warmest happiness to see him. you know those people whose existence just makes you feel a little better about the world? yeah. anyway, he was working at a starbucks and took my order and when i reached the window he gave me the goofiest smile and asked if i was who he thought, and i said yes, and he told me i should let him know it's me next time and he'll give me the family discount. it was sweet. i went home and texted my sister about it and made a joke about how i never want to find out if he did something wrong (we'd learned some dark shit about people in our lives recently) because i didn't want my memory of him tarnished.

so that day in 2019, probably close to a year after he served me coffee, i was walking home and heard the song coming from a car and felt a little uneasy (it's a sad song, considering mac miller's untimely death) and i got home and my sister called me, and yeah. Isaiah had died. he was shot, they still don't know why or by who, but despite how much death i've dealt with in my life that hit me fucking hard. it was right around the 5th anniversary of my dad's death and somehow, Isaiah's passing hit me harder than my dad's that year -- a testament to how much time had passed since my dad's death, but also a testament to how cruel i felt it was that Isaiah was gone. i told my therapist i felt like the world was a little sharper after that, like things were just slightly meaner. let me be super clear and say i wasn't Isaiah's best friend by any means; he was a close friend of my older sister, and i was often assigned to keep her out of trouble, so i was around him but not that close to him. but something about him just made the world feel a little lighter.

so, yeah! that's what happened. i came up with the idea for SIG in 2020, and it percolated over the years, and finally in nov 2022 i started writing SIG to purge all of the deaths i'd experienced and i knew from the start Isaiah's would be front and center. in the first draft, the final scene of SIG is an almost beat-by-beat remake of what happened in real life, up until marisa sees death sitting on her couch but embraces sophia instead. i needed to believe in that -- that even despite Isaiah's death, the world was still kind, and love still existed. it definitely does, by the way! like i said, i'm fine these days -- his was actually the last death i've experienced -- and i really don't need anyone to feel sad for me!

[aritamargarita]

ATTITUDE || 010

WAKE UP BABE ARITA JUST POSTED ATTITUDE!! BY POPULAR DEMAND! i keep lying y’all… im sorry but here it is. look, tinier text! i kind of like this better?? that’s right folks i revised this entire chapter LOL you won’t be sorry…

tbh i don’t know where we are omfg i just know what episode we’re basing this, which is smackdown 11/22/2001, (which now that i look back i really messed up chronologically but AHHHHHHHH) oh well, im gonna do shows randomly ill jump from november to august if i have to omg

HOWEVER, you are starting to get regularly scheduled matches yessss. also ive noticed i accidentally kinda made the alignment heel-ish but at the same time leaning towards face?? tweener? tweener… i would also like to add that your moveset is like a mix of like liv morgan and sasha banks? maybe a SPRINKLE of alexa bliss???? fuck what anyone says YOU CAME FIRST YOU WERE THE BLUEPRINTTT wwe 2k22 stays on during writing

IM SPLITTING THIS UP BECAUSE ITS A LOT! this is 1/2, so keep your eyes peeled for #2. get hype for your match + lita takin you out to get smashed. (there’s something she needs to tell you!)

BACKSTAGE // 6:50 PM

Upon stretching with Trish, you held up the letter she gave you with two index fingers. “This is yours, right?”

The women’s champion recognized the letter immediately and withdrew from her position on the floor, suddenly pacing around. “Yeah. I left it there for you. Didn’t know ya’ found it so easily, hahah!” She threw out her arms in a dramatic fashion.

..It was kind of easy to tell she was nervous, even if it was a little bit. But you couldn’t blame her. The anticipation of seeing if someone liked your gift was very heart-racing.

But rest assured, you thought it was a nice gesture! She had no need to worry.

“It’s very nice,” You comment, holding the letter in your free hand while stretching the other towards your foot. “—the design, I mostly mean. I didn’t open it just yet, but I’m going to get around to it. I have like a bunch in my bag, so I need some time to sort through.”

“Right, right...” Trish suddenly snapped her fingers, remembering something important. “I’ve gotta get ready for my match! It’s supposed to be messy tonight.”

“Messy?” You repeat, your interest piqued.

“Gravy bowl. Like, a pool of gravy.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly.” She laughed. “Oh well. I guess if I can have fun, it doesn’t matter what I do.”

“That’s the spirit, Miss Stratus,” You chime, standing up from your spot. “I’ll cheer you on from backstage, then I’ll just go home. I have literally nothing to do.”

“Huh? Don’t you have things to do today though?” She asked.

“...What?”

Trish shifted around in her bag for a moment before walking over and shoving a piece of paper in your face. “Read it, but don’t weep.”

Your eyes scanned down the lines of matches....

TEST VS. SCOTTY 2 HOTTY

STACY KEIBLER VS. TRISH STRATUS

CHRISTIAN VS. EDGE (INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE MATCH)

TAZZ VS. BIG SHOW

KURT ANGLE VS. UNDERTAKER

STONE COLD & [NAME] VS. CHRIS JERICHO

RVD & THE ROCK VS. THE DUDLEY BOYZ

Holy handicap match! Did they seriously schedule that? But considering the segment that happened between you three previously..you didn’t put it past them that they’d do that.

But not only that, your eyes kept going until you landed on some words that were in tinier font at the bottom of the paper. Your name was written in the “segment mentions” section. Was that always there? They must have just recently added it, because you sure as hell never noticed.

You had thought about one of the other matches too. How interesting was that, to see Christian go against Edge for his title...it was champion versus champion just to get another championship. You’d have to remind yourself to give at least the both of them words of encouragement.

But she was right. You did have a segment. They must have updated the list at the last minute because you had no clue that you were supposed to do something for your show TONIGHT. You thought it was next week, but instead they decided to push it earlier. Ugh.

“Huh, who would’ve thought, right?”

“Get your stuff together, hotshot.” She taunted, a smile on her face.

“Get your stuff together, champ.” You fire back, shifting to a much more comfortable spot to reach your own belongings. You shove the card (coupled with a heart shaped box) into her face much like she did to yours. “This is for you. Weep all you want!”

“Color me surprised.” She says, taking the card from your hand. “I didn’t know you actually got me something. Thanks a lot, I’ll take a look after my match. See you.” With a small wave, she departed the locker room.

You wave back. You also didn’t want to ask Trish to come in earlier than she was scheduled to, she already had enough on her plate with that gravy match or whatever. It was fine if she came next week. The question was what could you do in substitution for that?

Suddenly, it hit you.

You’re supposed to be a heel right? Sure, you switched sides and were supposed to turn face, but who says your mean streak has to come full stop?

Those letters could definitely give you some leverage, and of course give you fake heat backstage for the sake of cementing your role.

All you needed was fake envelopes, a lighter, and the acceptance from creative to burn stuff. Maybe even sign some sort of waiver. Doesn’t matter. You didn’t care if it was in a parking lot or during your slot. You needed SOMETHING to get the interest out of the crowd.

...Is this how villains think? Just thinking about how mean you’d be was almost hilarious! It was so unlike you but being the enemy was fun. Sometimes.

Thanks to your very rushed purchases, you noticed that out of at least 25 cards, 10 were duplicates of others. You were only going to return the favor of whoever gave you one, so the rest were just trash, technically.

You could burn those! Perfect.

Now that that was settled, you had to think about handing out more gifts. Whoever you saw first got their gift first. As soon as you exited the room with the bag, you bumped into someone.

“Oops, sorry. I was just going in there.”

It was none other than Lita, who seemed to have pop up at the right moment. At least you wouldn’t have to go too far. However...the Hardyz were nowhere to be found. You’d at least think they’d be a little ways from her. Either way, time to kill two birds with one stone.

But unfortunately, she didn’t seem too happy. You impulsively asked the first thing on your mind: “Are you okay?”

“I guess.”

“....” You frown, but give a small shrug. “I’m willing to hear you out if it makes things better?”

Lita says nothing in response, thinking about your offer. She let out a huff and drags you right back into the locker room. She did not let go of your wrist either. “I…..We got in a fight. All three of us.”

“All three?” You question.

“Me, Matt, and Jeff. Matt was yelling at Jeff for his “terrible decisions”, and that’s when I got mad and told Matt off about his.” She shook her head. “So stupid. I told Matt to leave me alone and I stormed out. Now here I am.”

“That’s rough,” You say. Was it really your place to give advice? The damage had already been done and besides, this wasn’t exactly your battle. “—I’m sorry to hear you guys were arguing. But I think I can make your day a little better.” You hadn’t even realized Lita’s grip on your arm until you moved it slightly. “First off, you have to let me go, haha.”

“Sorry.” She apologizes, letting go. She then used her now free hand to run through her hair.

“Funnily enough, I was actually leaving out to look for you and your little bodyguards.” You comment, reaching in your bag to hand over the loot, to which she looked shocked to see.

“...Seriously?” She almost thought it was a joke, eyeing you and the gift. But her suspicion immediately broke down into a smirk after realizing what you said earlier. “And my bodyguards? You don’t mean Jeff and Matt, do you?”

“Of course I do. But I guess I’ll find them on my own time. If you don’t make up that is.”

Lita wasn’t going to complain either. She wasn’t going to decline a present. “Thanks, [Name]. If you really want them to get these, then be sure to pass the message on to them too.” Much to her chagrin, she was happy to indulge you. It was the least she could do.

“You’re welcome.” You stare at her for a moment before walking forward and giving her a hug. She definitely deserved it. Even if she jokingly mentioned how clingy you were. Nevertheless, she accepted it and you two part.

“Hey,” She suddenly says, starting to open the box. “—are you busy after the show?”

“No, why?” You ask.

“I wanted you to go with me to a bar or something. I’m kinda stressed and I wanna have some fun.” She proclaimed, immediately digging into the chocolate.

An invitation to hang out?! You couldn’t decline, but if it’s a bar, you won’t be drinking much. It’s not like you were a lightweight or anything, it just wasn’t your style. “I don’t see why not.” You shrug, accepting. “Just us?”

“Yup. Just us. You want someone else to come?”

“No, no. Just was curious. I mean like...”

“I’m not inviting those two, if that’s what you think.” Lita clarified, closing the box. “Remember, we got in an argument, so..”

“Hah. Right.” You say, immediately shaking your head. It would be a pretty stupid to invite them after having a pretty hard argument.

If she wanted to hang out, then so be it. This would be the most action packed girls night ever!

At least you think it will be...

As you were making your rounds through the hallways, you noticed someone that you’ve been meaning to spark up a conversation with. “Ah! Hey! Christian..right?”

You call, leaning over beside him to get his attention. “We’ve met before. You called me short I think.. or was it tiny??” You trailed off, trying to remember what he said.

Christian stares at you for a moment, before snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah.” He turns to face you, a grin on his face. “I remember you! You’re that fan, right?” He jested. “The one who wanted an autograph.”

“Not even close...” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. The smile on your face didn’t help at all. “I just came to wish you good luck on your match with Edge. I know you’re champion and all,” You motion towards his championship, unsure if you should touch or not. Ogling at it seemed okay, though.

“Is that so?” He asked. Man, he was one of the cocky ones, wasn’t he? Oh well, it’s not like you hadn’t dealt with this before! “Well, I appreciate it. I think you can get promoted to...hm...” He looks at you up and down quickly, trying to come up with a new nickname. “Got it. You’re promoted to, ‘Cheesy.’ Congrats, [Name]. Or should I say, cheesy.”

…What?

You were confused. What kind of nickname is cheesy? What the fuck does that even mean?? “Seriously? Why don’t you call me by my name?”

“Hah. I’ll think about it, seriously.” He says, taking off his belt to shine it with a cloth. “Coming out to watch like you did last time?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“Guess so. You’ve been there before, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Besides, I need someone to accompany me to the ring.”

Accompany him too? You’ll have to ask if it was alright to do that. Maybe you could even speak on commentary! That’d be fun. “Okay, then I’ll ask. But don’t be surprised if I don’t show up! I’ve got things to do.”

“Pretty disappointing then.” He admits, putting his finger on your forehead. “I’ll keep my eye out for you. If you can’t come out, I’m counting on you to watch backstage at least.”

You swat his hand. “Yeah, yeah! I’m sure you will be. We’ll see what happens. I can’t promise anything!” You hold your hands up in defense. “Are you nervous? I saw your match on the list and was thinking about how if either of you won, you’d be swimming in gold.”

“Not at all. I’m pretty confident, actually.” He hit his chest with his fist. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win tonight. I’ve got a trick up my sleeve.”

“A trick up your sleeve?” You narrowed your eyes, unsure of what he meant. Hopefully he wouldn’t cheat and instead pulled out some devastating finishing move. “I’m sure you do. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Christian gives you finger guns, saying nothing at all.

Which meant NO PROMISES.

“I should probably get ready now..” You say.

“Heh, looks like you talked so much, time just flew by.” He chuckled, adjusting the championship onto his waist and walking past you. “Get a move on, [Name].”

You nod before shaking your head. “Wait, did you just say my name? Where are you going?!”

Christian was just glad you didn’t ask how exactly he got this match. It was champion vs. champion after all. You just weren’t ready for that type of information. Had you known he and a few others beat him up...

It wouldn’t turn out well.

SMACK!DOWN // 7:13 PM

It’s time!

Your talk show segment was now. You jump in place as an attempt to ease your nerves in gorilla.

Personally, you never thought you’d get this far, let alone be so pushed. You prayed to whatever god that was out there that this would be all for naught, and you’d be left with little to nothing to do. People were a bit iffy on you and because of that, so it was VERY easy to incite a reaction from the audience.

Once you had made your way to the ring and grabbed a mic, you give a biiiig smile to the hard camera.

“Hi everyone!” You greet, and the crowd responds by roaring lightly. “Remember when I said something special was coming to Smackdown? Well, this it it!” You chime, taking a seat in your chair. “It’s me! I’m the special thing. No, no really. It’s this whole set, you see!”

‘Hey! It’s [Name]! And look what she’s doing..?’

You open your arms presenting the whole set, letting everyone drink it in. “Well, I hope you’re ready. This is...Time Out With [Name]!”

Upon raising your arms, balloons fell from the ceiling. It was definitely a pleasant surprise. What a fitting celebration! “I’m so excited! I hope you all are too. Now, you may be wondering, what’s in the bag, [Name]?”

‘..Sounds like she’s a little whacked in the head,’ JR says.

Jerry agreed. ‘Couple’a screws loose!’

“Well, I’ve got a lot of letters. I’m going to do the honors of reading you guys my very own fan mail.” You reach into it and pull out a letter. “This first one is from—“

Almost on cue, you were interrupted by familiar music. The lights dim, and you turn your attention towards the front. Here comes trouble.

Literally. The culprit was none other than Stephanie McMahon, the woman who was banished from the WWF the previous night. With a mic in her hand, she hastily makes her way to the ring. Of course, to make sure all the attention was on her, she wore the sparkliest garment possible.

She enters through the ropes, giving one look behind her one last time. You could tell she was on the verge of tears. “I-I’m not supposed to be here..but…!” Stephanie trails off, her voice cracking while the crowd had already begun to mock her.

All you could do was stare. Did she really just fucking interrupt you?! In the middle of YOUR talk show?!

She continues on. “..But I have to clear things up! And I knew you were going to have a talk show, [Name]! So please, talk to ME!” She begs, coming closer and grabbing your arm. You shake her off, but she’s still hopeful.

Some security they have, letting the “Billion Dollar Princess” in so freely. You scoff, holding up your mic. “Am I going to get in trouble for associating with you?”

“NO!” She squealed, immediately lowering her voice after she yelled at you. “N-No! I don’t think you will.”

You sigh, tossing the letter to the side for now. As it flutters to the ground, you exasperatedly threw your arm out. “Go ahead. Just say what you have to say.” You couldn’t believe she just walked out here. And to plead her case? This better be a good one!

Stephanie takes a deep breath. “I’m telling you, [Name]! No…!” She turns to the audience, doing a 360 as she points at everyone. “Y-You all saw everything!“ Then, she turns back to you. “You talked to my brother, he’s the mastermind! I just wanted to follow my in older brother’s steps!”

You hold up your hand, causing her to stop talking. “Uh, hey, Stephanie? What does any of this have to do with me? Genuine question.” The McMahons really were dragging you into this! You’re about to go kicking and screaming. “I know I was with you and Shane for a while, but you’d better go to someone else. I don’t think I can help you.”

Stephanie shakes her head. “You can! I just want my dad to see this. Him and everyone else need to hear my side of the story! Ask me anything! I’ll tell you the wholehearted truth!”

“Alright.” You say, shrugging. “Why’d you slap your own mother?” At this question, the crowd gasps. Stephanie was just as taken aback by the question, but bounced back quickly.

“Didn’t you hear me last time?” This time, she had a bit of attitude in her voice. “I said that Shane ordered me to do it. Did you seriously think I did everything on my own? I was naive, stupid. Everyone makes mistakes. Like you.” She says. “Remember? You took members of the Alliance out and joined the WWF? That was a mistake, right?”

“I mean…” You weren’t quite sure what to say. Well, you did, but you didn’t want to be too mean. “Those comparisons aren’t even remotely close. Besides, shouldn’t I be questioning you?”

Stephanie nods, letting it go for now. She’d do anything for forgiveness, and now that she’s hijacked came on your show, she felt like this could be her chance. “G-Go ahead.”

“Okay. Well, I’d like to just start with thank you for ruining what I wanted to do. I’ll just do it later.” You snidely remarked. “But now I’m curious. Why beg to stay when you know it’s over?”

She says nothing at your first comment, but walks a bit away from the center of the ring.

“I felt falsely accused and I felt as if I should’ve been given another chance. The thought of losing everything I have and…” She gags, covering her mouth. “Living in such..ugh, low-class ways makes me sick! I mean, can you imagine having to even drive yourself places? That’s what a chauffeur is for! [Name], when I got kicked out with my brother, we had to DRIVE all the way to the arena! Could you imagine having to do that everyday!?”

She’s..wow. Stephanie is definitely something. You just stare at her incredulously, but then bite back a sneer, instead replacing it with a smile. “No way! I couldn’t imagine that at all.”

“You get it! See, this is why I had so much faith in you when you were with us. You understand my problems and I’m glad I have the chance to talk to you!” Stephanie beams at you, happy that you’re sympathetic.

“Right. I’m sure it’s suuch a drag to y’know,” You pause, leaning on the ring ropes. “..do all the work by yourself?”

Double entendre? The crowd seemed to be laughing at how irritated you were and could completely understand. They felt the same way! Being so rudely interrupted after going to read the fan mail. Oh, the humanity!!

“Ugh, yes!” Stephanie walks towards you, fast enough so that you couldn’t even process what she was doing. “You get it! [Name], you’re the only one around here that has any sense!” She sticks out her hand. “Which is one of the reasons why I’ve come out here TONIGHT!”

What was she getting at?

“What do you mean?” You ask, looking at her in confusion.

“I want to be business partners!” There was no sign of tears whatsoever, her somber behavior quickly transforming into excitement. “You and me, kicking ass! I point, you destroy!”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” You say, putting a hand on your hip. “I’m already partners Stone Cold Steve Austin,” Once you said his name, the crowd cheers. “Quite frankly, Stephanie, I have a feeling you wanted to ask that all along.”

She huffed, pulling away her hand. Her plan wasn’t going well and she knew as much. “No, it’s not just that. I really wanted to come here and plead my case. If I didn’t, you’d all think I’m some backstabbing bitch! I’d never do that. I’m really only…”

You join in on her sentence, the both of you talking in unison. “—A misunderstood young woman.” Nodding your head, you sigh for what must have been the thousandth time. “I don’t even know how they let you in here in the first place.”

“I snuck in.” She admits. “But c’mon. You’ve gotta think about it….please?”

And to make her happy so she’d literally leave you alone, you nod, holding out your hand. She shakes it, and that seals the deal.

Yeah, right. She interrupted your goddamn show!!

Letting go off your mic, you twist her around and tie her arms around her neck, giving her a Backstabber. The crowd pops at your attack, and you stand up from your spot, leaning over her.

“Try again next time.”

BACKSTAGE // 7:20 PM

The fact Stephanie had interrupted your talk show had made you upset. The thought of shaking her hand moreso. Once it had dawned on you, there was immediately a feeling of dread.

You had just “shook hands” with Stephanie McMahon. The witch, the conniving woman who’d rip your heart out if you ever made a mistake. And then you turned around and attacked her.

For some reason, you were scared. Scared of what she’d do with you in the aftermath. While she’d be out of the WWF for quite a while, you knew it would only be a matter of time before she returned.

What’s one way of relieving stress? By burning things, of course. You were going to set these letters on fire if it was the last thing you’d do. You had a cameraman with you in the parking lot. Your antics for the night were far from over.

“Before I was rudely interrupted, I wanted to talk about my letters. Unfortunately, I can’t do that.” You sigh. “I apologize to all my fans who wanted to hear my endearing voice read them out. Instead, I’d like to show an example.” You dump the rest of the letters onto the ground.

You go through your pockets, taking out a matchbox and removing ONE match. Quickly dragging it against the striker of the box, it flickers to life. You toss it over and the pile of letters are engulfed into flames. The camera turns over there for a brief moment, then back to you.

“I don’t think anyone understands that you’re all in my way! I don’t need any cheap ass letters to tell me that I’m great and amazing, that I am incredible and what have you.“ You say. “I’m not just some idiot who can’t work my way around the ring. I could out wrestle ANY of you, anytime of the week! And if you don’t believe me, come see me.”

While your message wasn’t long (you were told you had 10 more minutes), you thought it still got the message across. Anyone who wanted to mess with you was on their way to a world filled with hurt.

BACKSTAGE // 7:45 PM

And if it wasn’t for Stephanie ruining your show, the other devil on your shoulder had shown up just JUST THE RIGHT MOMENT.

Him. Yet again. Yet-a-fuckin-gain.

Jericho gives you a smirk, and the camera pans over to him. “Someone like you, burning letters. Never would have expected it. How’s my gift treating you? You must like it, given I haven’t seen it in the fire.”

“I wish you’d leave me alone.” You groan. “You’re always following me. And for your information, Austin actually threw it away for me!” It wasn’t true, but you just wanted to see his reaction.

You opened your mouth, but stop after realizing something important.

Back up a little bit. How exactly did Jericho know about your letters? You told no one about your plan and you made 100% sure no one was in the same parking lot while you did it.

"Wait a second." You say, waving your hand. "How'd you know what I burnt?"

His smug look turned into one of bewilderment. “I thought you knew already? Your best friend Torrie, she’s been running around talking about it.”

“She’s been WHAT?!” You look in awe and Jericho snorts at your reaction.“No, no, stop, what do you mean?”

“So much for being besties, huh [Name]? Well, she’s been saying you’ve been burning letters. She saw you do it out in the parking lot, now she’s telling whoever you’ve mentioned or whatever. I didn’t really care.” He muttered. “What you should be focused on, is our match.”

You simply roll your eyes. Oh yeah. You forgot that was a thing. Where’s Stone Cold when you need him?

Jericho comes closer to you. “And if you want, the Walls of Jericho doesn’t have to be the only hold you could be in tonight, sweetheart.���

You stare at him in disbelief for a second. How dare he say that to you?! Did he really think you’d go THAT low? And even try to imply you’d sleep with him? Absolutely not.

You had lifted your hand up to give him a hard slap across the face, resulting in the crowd gasping. Slapping him felt incredibly satisfying and he literally didn’t even know what hit him. The blonde brings up a hand to his now reddened cheek, scowling all the while you stomp down the hallway.

Him and his stupid match can sit in the back of your mind until the time comes. Until then, you’ve got some loose ends to tie up. Most importantly, you’ve gotta deal with Torrie (and maybe even Stacy, if she’s around. That’d just kill two birds with one stone. You technically weren’t “friends” anyway.)

So once you had seen a blonde woman just hanging around down the hall, all you found yourself rushing over there, ready to fight. “Hey!” You yell, setting your hand on her shoulder and turning her around roughly. “TORRIE—“

But this was not Torrie. In fact, it was actually Terri Runnels, who seemed scared that you abruptly turned her around like that. She held her hands up in defense and you can only sigh.

“Jeez, I’m sorry.” You apologize. “You’re…Terri, was it? Yeah, I’m really sorry.”

She gave you a nervous laugh in response, waving her hand. “Oh, it’s fine….” Before throwing her arms out. “Minus you scaring the hell out of me. What’s your deal!?”

“My ‘deal’ is that something really badhappened, and now I’m looking for Torrie. Have you seen her? You’re both blonde so I got you two mixed up. That’s my fault.” You felt incredibly bad for scaring her like that, but she should be thankful you didn’t just start beating her up first!

“Sorry sweetie,” She apologizes to you with a shrug. “Haven’t seen her at all today. What happened between you two?”

You sigh. It’s hard to explain what exactly went down. On the bright side, maybe Torrie hadn’t got that far. “Long story short, she’s been telling people something I did. And it’s a lie,” You add, which was another lie in itself… “One that might completely ruin my reputation."

“Well first off, you don’t go around threatening to beat people up.” She advised with a laugh. “Why don’t you try talking to her instead?”

“I feel like if talk to her, I’d drag her across the concrete.” You admit.

“Ivory should have put some of us into anger management classes…” Terri mutters. “Anyway, I still think you should try talking to her. No hostility, no…dragging her across the concrete.”

“I can try, but no promises.”

Definitely no promises.

SMACK!DOWN // 7:58 PM

Unfortunately after talking to someone about it, you couldn’t go out there for the match. You were a bit bummed out but they explained that you had a segment already and you’ve got a match coming up. They weren’t wrong, yes, you’ve got a lot to do tonight, but it doesn’t hurt to go back out one more time.

…..You just can’t believe this is your life now.

You’re definitely not complaining, but you never thought you’d get this far. It’s been a nice ride so far, which makes you wonder if the journey coming up will be hard.

“Hey, kid.” A familiar voice calls. “The hell you’ve been up to?” Stone Cold Steve Austin looks pretty beat up, holding his stomach as he speaks to you. “Heard ya’ been burning shit.”

“Noooo.” You groan. “It got to you?! She’s faster than I thought! And why do you look all busted?”

“I look busted because Regal and his little minions set me up in that ring earlier. How’dya not hear?”

You shrug. “I was focused on this whole Torrie thing..and if you got all beat up, shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I don’t have time to rest when we’ve gotta perform.”

There was a silence before you just decided to speak up. Funnily enough, him standing there literally felt like he was judging you, so you had to come clean. The tension broke you. “Yeah. I burned letters.” You admit, rubbing your temple. “I feel really really bad. And I don’t want anyone else to find out, but who knows how many people Torrie’s told?”

“I don’t see the problem with that.” Of course he didn’t, it was literally Stone Cold we’re talking about. “Ya’ just were disposing of crap you didn’t need.”

Crap you didn’t need? That definitely was one way to put it.

Austin continued on. “Don’t worry about the consequences. If people have an issue about what you do, let em’….and if they try saying otherwise, you take it to the ring.”

His and Terri’s advice were pretty different. To fight or not to fight….

“I’ve been doing things the way I like for years.” Austin reminded. “The consequences don’t faze me. People don’t faze me. Ya’ gonna let them mess your brain up.” He points to his head. “They get inside your head and take advantage of it. Instead of letting em’ do that, you hit first. So, how about it?” He says, patting your back harshly. “We get into that ring, kick that little pretty boy’s ass, then go home.”

“Yeah!” You sure as hell were. It was a good idea too. Maybe that match would get some of your pent up anger out. “And that’s the bottom line!”

You waited for him to continue his own line, but he looked at you as if you were stupid. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

He shakes his head. “We’ll have to work on that. Get it together, [Name]. We can’t lose.” And he leaves it at that, simply leaving you with your own thoughts. Did Debra tell him to talk to you?

His words made you nervous, rightfully so. What would happen if you did lose? Would he be upset at you? Worse, you’d lose a teammate! Even more scarier that Stephanie wanted you to align with the McMahons..that couldn’t bode well.

It would make sense with you joining out of spite incase he betrays you, but after that, then what? Would creative just shelf you for now? Would you have to do gimmick matches? They were already a strong “stable” on their own, so someone else being added was a bit crazy in your opinion.

The idea of not knowing what came next kinda made you uncomfortable. Even if you should have been used to it in WCW (where things were WAY more disorganized), the feeling just made you feel icky.

“[Name]!” You immediately recognize that voice as Edge. A smile grows on your face as he approaches, but he doesn’t seem happy. And here came those cameras you knew oh so well.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks at you incredulously. “You’re seriously asking me what’s wrong? That’s just great.”

There’s gotta be something you’re missing here. “What are you talking about?”

“You should know what I’m talking about. Burning anything ring a bell??”

Oh fuck.

You had no idea what to say, you open your mouth but quickly shut it. Okay, maybe Torrie was well within the right to tell on you, but that wasn’t her place at all, damn it! Now they’d know you burnt everything! That you didn’t care about them! The only person you cared about was yourself.

In other words, the seeds were being planted!

The cameras were on you again, so you wanted to make this as dramatic as possible with him. “I just…it wasn’t like that at all, you’ve gotta..I didn’t mean it at all.”

“You didn’t?” Edge looked at you and you finally thought he would understand. That all would be well. “You didn’t mean it. Okay. It just gets worse, huh? The least you could do was check on me when I got beat up out in the ring earlier.”

“Wait, huh?”

“Didn’t know that, did you?”

No, no you didn’t. You couldn’t even defend yourself, so you decided to pull out the next best excuse.

“I’ve got my own match to focus on! I didn’t know! You can’t blame me for not watching….” It was going to have to do. “I couldn’t come out..”

Yet, he still wasn’t buying it. “With what partner? Stone Cold’s already been ambushed too. You must have not saw that either. Maybe try paying attention more next time. Man, this day just gets better and better. Continuously betrayed by my own brother, then I find out someone I’ve been interes….” He stops himself, coughing into his palm. “Someone I’ve been friends with, couldn’t care less about me.” He stared at you for a minute before turning around to leave.

“Wait a damn minute! You can’t just leave. And besides, I already saw him all beat up! Maybe if you were as good as him, you’d be raring and ready to go!” You yell, stomping right behind him. “But no! You’re running away!”

“Just shut up already, [Name].” He says, continuing his way down the hall.

This time, you didn’t follow, a new feeling of anger burning in your veins. The moment you lay your eyes on Torrie, IT IS ON.

hey! hey you! if you’ve made it to the end, YAY! thanks for reading and sticking around!! im working on fixing the spacer so it’s brighter pls bare with me. steve austin + reader duo is going to go on for a bit longer me thinks. *gives you both the tag team titles because i can*

[piastrinorris]

An Unambiguous Love [9/10]: Trial Runs

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 ::

alternate AO3 link

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Your favourite customers really make it easier returning to the town you never went to school in. If only your friends at work would stop trying to play matchmaker between you.

Chapter 9 word count: 3751

A/N: Sorry this is a little later than usual, I got home from work and started watching Spree and got distracted by how I am so sure I could fix Kurt Kunkle, but you're not here to hear about my poor taste in men lol.

You really don’t feel too good over the next few days. You take the Sunday off sick, and the Monday. Tuesday is your day off anyway, and in the late afternoon, your brother shouts to you that you have a visitor, though he doesn’t name them. You think that strange of him, since he’s met all your friends by now, he knows all of them by name. You make your way downstairs and see Tiffany at your door, looking worse for wear than you feel. You recognise the pale green complexion, though, and crane your neck around to see Eddie sitting in his van, reading a book. Tiffany pipes up, “I found him and asked him to bring me here after school. I hope that’s okay.”

“You wanna come and sit down after the drive?” you ask with a smirk, and she nods with wide eyes. With a soft chuckle, you let her in and close the door behind her. You get her some water and guide her to the couch.

"So how are you holding up?" she asks.

You blow out a harsh breath. "I don't know. I hate taking time off work, I'm hoping this all clears up by tonight so I can come in tomor-"

"Don't you dare even, Jesse's already taking over that one for you, too, so you can be back at 100%."

You scoffs, "He barely likes doing his own shifts, let alone covering for me! Why would he do that?"

She shrugs. "Knowing him growing up, the only thing I could say is that he'll want to use it as leverage, maybe he plans to "call sick" himself once you're better? I dunno. So what happened? Steve came in to see you on Sunday and he seemed real concerned about you."

You hold your head in your hands. "Tiff, I really don't need your whole spiel about how Steve and I are star-crossed lovers or whatever, alright? I'm sorry, I'm just really not in the mood to entertain it right now."

She frowns, "I'm being serious, Y/N. He's been in, that Eddie guy's been. Those other freshmen that are always in the store even came and found me in the cafeteria today to ask about you." A warm smile spreads along your face. "So, are you going to tell me what's up?"

"What do you already know?" You ask.

"I know you went out to the movies with those two boys, and then you saw your other friends, and then you've been ill ever since," she explains slowly.

You nod, "Well, the truth is… I got overwhelmed, because I think I was supposed to have been set up on a date." Tiffany chokes on her water. "But I couldn't think of how, or why, or even who it was that wanted it, I mean… Like, yeah, we've all always been close as friends, but if I'd have known that I was accidentally leading one of them on - or both of them - I wouldn't have been that way so much with both of them… But it's so weird, it's not like I do that with all new friends, I've never been compelled to invite Ralph over to cuddle and watch movies with like I have the other two." You hold your head in your hands again. "Now I don't know if they expected more of me, or maybe they thought they had to go along with these things even if they didn't want -"

"Let me stop you there, just… Breathe a second," Tiffany strokes your shoulder. "They certainly care about you. It's obvious even now, when you're not around. I don't think they'd be like that if they felt any ill will towards you." Tiffany herself takes a deep breath in. "In all honesty, I don't think even I could tell you which one is into you, really. Maybe you should just… Ask each one on an actual, real date?"

"I don't want to ruin what we have, if they like it like that, too." You throw yourself back onto the couch, head leaning up to stare at the ceiling. "Oh god,  what have I done?!"

"Don't frame it as a date, then. Just… Hang out with them, one-on-one. Invite them somewhere," Tiffany suggests.

You gently put a hand to her face. "How are you wiser than me, when you're years younger?"

She shrugs. "It's a blessing and a curse, honestly." You both laugh and she starts to say her goodbyes.

As she reaches the door, you say, "Hey, uh… Tell Eddie I miss him, will you? And I give you full permission to tell Steve whenever you want to, as well. As long as there's no more matchmaking. I've got to take that on now," you nod, and Tiffany does back, too.

"Of course I will," she agrees with a smile, hugging you in the doorway. You watch her climb back into Eddie's van, and catch his eye briefly. He looks at you with his classic soft smile, but his eyes are sad. It changes his whole face. You smile back and wave at him. He flutters his fingers back at you before reversing out.

You go to your room and open up your journal. You split a double page spread into four: two rows labelled with each boys' name, and two columns labelled "pros" and "cons". The only issue is… There are no cons. There are no downsides to either one of your best friends. That's why you've been able to become so close to them so quickly.

Giving yourself some more time to take care of yourself, the next day you call up Eddie first. It's only fair, he's seen you in person the most recently, he deserves an explanation.

He still sounds so enthusiastic on the phone. "How are you? Are you better now? It's so nice to hear your voice again."

"I'm… Fine, Eds, thank you. Just a quick one, I know you've got Hellfi-"

"If you need to, I can postpone -"

"No, that's very sweet of you, but this'll only take a second. Would you like to get dinner tomorrow? I'm only working early, and there's that Italian place downtown that I swear does pizza that's actually made to taste like how I thought that takeaway one was, but I can't get a whole one for myself, and… It'd be nice to catch up, just us two. What do you say?"

"Ooh, dinner at a fancy restaurant? Sounds like a date," he teases.

"Call it what you want, Munson, are you in?"

You can hear the grin on his face. "Hell yeah. Call me when you're home from work and we'll go from there, okay?"

The whole morning of the next day, you'd been trying desperately to plan this all out perfectly. You're only working the opening shift, so you can go home, get ready, and meet Eddie at your favourite proper restaurant, for a proper dinner. You'd had everything down to the letter.

And then Jesse just had to call off his closing shift. And you took that as a sign that this was how you're supposed to "repay" his kindness. You'd really rather not, but between Jesse and Eddie, you decide Eddie would be far more accommodating to the idea of rescheduling. You phone him up, having his and Steve's numbers memorised by now, and explain your situation. He understands, naturally, though the disappointment is clear in his tone. He tells you he'll figure something out, and to enjoy the rest of your shift.

Later on, disgruntled by the fact you're still working, though glad it's almost over, you're so busy with your usual closing routine that the doorbell ringing throws you off. You manage to get out a, "Sorry, we're closed!" but not before letting out a small squeal of surprise.

"Well, that sound was mighty delicious," you don't even have to turn around to know from the tone of his drawl that Eddie has the widest smirk on his face. Sure enough, his head is cocked as though he's admiring you, sucking his half-smiling bottom lip in and out between his teeth. If you give yourself more than a split second to admire it, you'd be lost for words. 

"Point still stands, Munson. Can't serve you. Sorry," you shrug, mirroring his head tilt.

"Really? You won't do me one solid as compensation for standing me up?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"I did not!" You throw your cleaning rag at him, which he manages to dodge with a cackle. "Blame Jesse the jerk for calling off at the last minute."

Eddie pulls a face. "Ugh. Yeah. Don't love that guy. Buuuut I am feeling a little buffered now, getting all excited for a dinner that never happened. Especially since I got all dolled up," you hadn't even realised, since its all sleek black, but he's ditched the denim, kept the leather jacket, and is wearing a button-down shirt that is far too flattering to look at without gawping, especially when the top few buttons are undone just enough for his tattoos to peek through. When you manage to catch his eye, he smirks, "You got anything to help with that?" Eddie-the-date seems to be emulating Steve's usual cockiness when he's around other girls, but you try and put that thought out of your head. No thinking about Steve. This is Just Eddie.

You quirk an eyebrow to try and match his energy. "Got anything in mind?"

Eddie's cocky half-smile breaks out into a full beam. "Yeah, I got somethin'. How's about an apology kiss?"

Your brain freezes for a moment. You, Eddie and Steve all have your flirtatious banter, sure, and what happens at parties, well, it's always stayed at parties. And here Eddie is offering it up as if it's normal for all of you.

Trying to remain cool and collected, your eyes scan your surroundings until you see the jars of assorted dice, sorted by shape, that sit on this particular counter. You grab a d20, press it into Eddie's hand, hold his fingers to wrap around it and grin back, "Roll for persuasion." You have no idea how you've managed to make that so smooth, but you've done it. Though only for a split second, you have successfully rendered Edward Munson speechless.

"Alright, alright, what's the difficulty?" he eventually asks, shaking it around in his fist.

You suck in a breath through your teeth. You don't want to look desperate here, just in case. You eventually settle for, "20. Flat roll."

Eddie kisses his teeth. "Alright, fair enough, let's go." He flicks it onto the table, and…

"Ah, 16. Too bad," you scrunch your face up jokingly and lean back to start heading over to pick up your cleaning rag, but Eddie gently places a finger underneath your chin.

"You're forgetting something, sweetheart," his voice is lower, softer, yet more gruff. You narrow your eyes in questioning and he starts to pull you over the counter, closer to him. "That's just on the die," he tiptoes to lean right over to close the gap between you two, whispering so close to your mouth that his warm breath tickles your lips, "I got a plus 5 proficiency." Eddie kisses you in a way that is both brand new and yet every way he kisses into one. The tenderness of his usual, affectionately-high kisses, mixed with the fervorous intent of his passionately-drunk kisses. It's soft in nature, yet strong in practice. It lasts for one long peck, followed immediately by a short one, then a shared look of genuine elation between you. "Did that hit, by chance?"

Feeling the rush, you ask, "Wanna try your luck again?"

Eddie cocks his head in that way that makes you Feel Things again. "What do I get out of a natural 20?" He asks as he blindly feels for and picks up the die again.

Trying to test entirely what the vibe may be including a certain other someone, you tell him, "For that, let's throw in Harrington, too."

"Hot damn!" Eddie sings as he fully slings the die across the counter. 

You tut and shake your head. "Your plus five doesn't help you on a ten, does it?

Eddie taps his chin in thought, closing one eye as he focuses. "Trying to think of what spells and abilities get me back up there again…"

You giggle, "If you can think of any that get you back to 20 off the top of your head, I'll get Steve myself."

Eddie's teeth practically go through his lip as he bites it in contemplation. Finally too weak to combat your urges, you let your mind wander. To you biting his lip for him. Just taking it between your own teeth and pulling it right out until it slips back out again. The sounds he'd make from that, the desperation to get back to it. Daydream!Eddie just can't get enough, going back to kiss you and gently nibble on your lip so you take the hint about what he wants from you. Daydream!Eddie's hands are on your ass cheeks, gripping and releasing with every bite.

But it's not just you two in this scenario. Daydream!Steve is stood directly behind you, head bent to kiss and bite your neck. His hands squeeze your hips as they pull you back flush against his chest before sliding up to possessively grab at your breasts. Both pretend boys are absolutely all over you, and within that universe, you are entirely content.

Real Life Eddie takes you out of that by drumming on the counter as he continues to think, getting himself more and more frustrated before growling. "Why is my mind so blank now?!" He doesn't seem to have noticed your transfixed-on-nothing eyes, or burning hot cheeks.

Wishing you had the same issue, you try to hide your blushing face by keeping your head down and looking for your rag once again. "Sorry, Munson. Rules is rules."

He tuts and gently punches the counter. "Rules is rules, and that's final. Yeah. Can't argue with that."

"Do you at least feel somewhat… Compensated for missing out on dinner?"

Eddie smiles softly. "It's not a transaction really, but let's say sure. You gonna be okay getting home tonight?" He starts fidgeting with his shirt in a somewhat awkward manner.

You chuckle and nod. "I'll be fine, you go put some Eddie clothes back on. Sorry again -"

Eddie cuts you off, but not before a brief moment to check you out as you bend over, completely unnoticed by you. "No apology necessary. Maybe we'll just reschedule. Or maybe that'll just jinx us again?"

Once stood back up, you shrug, "Who knows. Night, Munson." You decide to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek, and he turns on his heel before you can notice it turning just as red as yours.

"Goodnight. Get home safe," he waves over his shoulder before heading back out. 

Once everything is done but the locking of the door, all the evening's events hit you at once, so hard that you end up just sitting on the floor between the comic aisles. You and Eddie kissed. Sober. You didn't expect to be doing that with these dates. Is he going to expect more, now? What about Steve? Should he know? Would he have any opinion of it? Everything between the three of you has been mutual and friendly, would it be better if he got to kiss you, too? But it wouldn't be fair if one was more natural and the other one "only" happened to balance things out. But what if Steve doesn't want to kiss you while he's sober? 

You hold your head in your hands and try to clear your thoughts. You're able to eventually come to the conclusion that you're simply overthinking everything. You decide to just put all those thoughts away, dump them into your journal later, then slam that thing shut and instead focus on how you’re going to ask Steve out now.

You can’t really go on a real date with Steve, since you didn’t technically go on one with Eddie. But, the next day, knowing you’re both closing, you decide to end things a little early and surprise Steve with a visit. As soon as he sees you, he rushes over and pulls you in for a tight, lingering hug. Much like how Eddie had been acting like Steve the day before, this certainly feels like more of an Eddie reaction to you. You squeeze him back, hoping to squeeze out any other comparison to Eddie when tonight is about Steve. “How are you, now?” Steve asks.

“Better,” you nod with a weak smile. “Uh, hey, I know it’s late and all, but did you wanna just… I dunno, drive around? Go hang out some place? Just us two?”

“Yeah, sure! You want me to drive? I can take you to my favourite spot,” he suggests, and you nod.

He spends most of the drive catching you up on all the things the kids have been up to and talking about while you’ve been away from it all. Apparently, you’ve really got Jane into the world of comics, which Mike wants to someday thank you for in person.

You vaguely recognise the area around the lake he’s driving towards. You’ve seen the lake on your map. The one shaped like a heart. If you think about its name too long, you’ll start getting nervous about Steve’s intentions and panic. But, isn’t this whole evening all about finding out Steve’s intentions? Maybe he’s picked Lovers’ Lake on purpose.

He leads you to where some large rocks converge onto a soft patch of grass, but instead of sitting at either of those spaces, like you do as you perch on a rock, he instead starts patrolling the area while staring at the ground. “You good?” you ask with a laugh.

“Who, me? Just swell. Hey, uh, you ever skimmed stones before? It’s like, my favourite thing to do here. But I think I’ve used up all the good ones,” he pulls a face.

Rolling your eyes, you hop off the rock you’d just sat on. “No way you’ve used up every good one. Maybe you’re just looking for the easy ones.”

Steve gasps dramatically, “Are you questioning how good I am?!”

“As someone who’s never done it before, absolutely,” you giggle, finally finding one that looks like it’s got a relatively smooth surface.

“Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got,” Steve’s stance is cocky, his head tipped to one side as he looks you up and down with a smirk. It flusters you for a second before you regain your composure. You flick your wrist as you throw the stone, and it bounces once off of the surface of the water before ultimately sinking beneath it. You raise your arms in celebration and cheer, and Steve chuckles at you. "Wow, never before have I seen such excitement over such a feeble attempt."

You cross your arms, "Like you could do any better!"

"Watch and learn, babe," he smirks, picking another one up and throwing it out at the water. It bounces twice, awkwardly, before tumbling into the water.

You raise your eyebrows, “And that was supposed to be better than my attempt?”

“Sorry, isn’t - isn’t two more than one?” Steve presses a finger to his lip and looks up, laughing as you shove him away.

“Yeah, but at least mine was all smooth! Yours was, like…” You wave your hands up and down alternately. He mimics you mockingly, so you exaggerate your movements further still until you both start hitting each others’ hands, eventually collapsing into each other with laughter.

“Look, why don’t I show you how it’s done?” Steve picks out another stone and presses it into your hand. He moves behind you, gently kicking at your feet to guide them before cradling his body around yours, one hand on your hip and the other wrapped around the hand holding the stone. “Now,” his voice is low and soft in your ear, “a lot of people say it’s all in the wrist, but you’ve gotta angle yourself right, too, right?” You nod, swallowing hard. “So just get a feel for things, like this.” Using your hip and your hand as leverage, Steve starts guiding you to swivel at the hips, from side to side. His hand squeezes your hip just a little, and your breath hitches as you take a deep breath in. You feel Steve breathe out against your neck, his breath hitching, too. 

He wriggles the fingers of the hand holding yours until he’s gotten you to drop the stone entirely, before guiding you round to face him. He slips his hands into yours and leans down to kiss you sweetly. Soft, lingering pecks, one after another after another. Usually, Steve smiles into his kisses, and you can feel it, but this time it feels more… Intense.

Your mind wanders again, to Steve kissing down to your neck, his hand reaching up into your hair as he backs you against the larger rock you’d been perched on earlier.  Eddie’s here now, too, kissing your mouth with open lips and hands that inch further and further down your body. Daydream!Steve pulls you back to kiss you fully, as daydream!Eddie seems to sink lower and lowe-

You pull yourself out of the very real kiss still happening between you and Steve with a sharp intake of breath. He shuffles his weight between his feet and drops your hands. "We, uh, should get you back to your car again soon, right? Is everyone home tonight or is it just you and… Marvin?"

"Look at you, on first name terms!" You playfully bat his arm as you both start walking back to his car.

"Shut up," he laughs bashfully.

The ride back is quieter than the one there, but it's not awkward. Not until you've given Steve a goodbye kiss on the cheek just like you did with Eddie, and then you've gotten into your car and made it safely out of the lot. Only once you're alone with your thoughts do you realise how screwed you really are.

Both "dates" were equally amazing, in their own rights. But your wandering thoughts ultimately kept bringing you back to the same wish: you couldn't help but want the other person there, too.

[dobiemart]

good looking boy

pairing, kurtis “kurt” kunkle x reader

summary, general n’ relationship headcanons abt kurt that i wrote in the shower cause i get to do what i want

word count, 2.1k

byr, i got a new new job cause sitting on my ass doesn’t pay the netflix subscriptions, so excuse my absence for the past couple of days. PLEAAAAASSEEE IVE BEEN ADJUSTING LET ME LIVE

ill totally answer some asks asap cause i love you sm and i totally wanna write what yall wanna read, just give me a couple of years seconds :)

also i havent watched spree in a good minute and i didnt feel like rewatching it so if mr kunkle is ooc ignore it

(p.s. i wrote this while eating drinking? chocolate vanilla mixed pudding out of a straw. you’re welcome for that information.)

warnings, fluff and nsfw content but no actual smut, swearing, car sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), cockwarming, dry humping, overstimulation, dacryphilia, mentions of murder, one mention of a breeding kink, one mention of pregnancy, one mention of cutting (not sh & very consensual!), one mention of emotional manipulation, kurt being icky wicky but still a cutie

sfw

im kinda shocked that ppl still love kurt but like ME TOO

i cannot stress the fact that kurt is a stalky perv at first enough. the first time you get in his car he instantly saves the footage and uses it for extra curricular activities.

he's genuinely willing to follow you around in his spree. he’ll wait outside for hours in front of any building you go to. the other passengers can wait, right?

he’d totally plug his socials in his regular socially awkward way, but stutters more than usual while he does it. (boooo. tomato tomato tomato tomato.)

along with shoving his socials down your throat, he’ll ask for yours back. even if you don’t give it to him, he’ll find it. he’d know practically everything about you after your first meeting. he has your address, where you go to work/school, what your third favorite meal is, how you did your hair in 2nd grade, etc.

totally tries to flirt with you and miserably fails to the point where it makes you physically cringe multiple times. he probably searched up how to flirt on wikihow a couple minutes before he picked you up.

let's be real here. kurt smells like pennies and bacon grease with the teeny tiniest bit of vape juice and dollar store body spray. his car always smells good, though.

after your first couple of drives, he gets the courage to finally ask you to go out with him. not without stuttering to all hell and having a camera somewhere, of course. it’s quality content for the kurties!

once you say yes and get through the little pre-dating stage, this pervy bitch is the cutest, nastiest, most loveable motherfucker you’ll ever see. buckle up mf

our favorite boy has the same amount of game that a middle school boy would have. you could be years into your relationship and he would still say stuff like “are you lightning? cause’ you could be my queen.” 

his viewers don’t believe he has a girlfriend at all. you really gotta make sure to tell them you aren’t kidnapped or being forced to be in a relationship with him.

brings you everywhere with him, no matter what. he might leave you back in his room when hes filming #TheLesson, but if you wanted to tag along he wouldn’t mind having you there.

he gets sick really easily cause his immune system isn’t immune to dog shit. i swear he’ll be fine one day then sneeze his ass off the next.

calls you the most random damn nicknames you’ll ever see. he’d definitely call you shit like “my little soda pop gummy bear” or “the barbecue to my chili” along with the normal baby and sweetheart stuff. (I SAW A HC THAT HE CALLS YOU HIS FAV KURTIE ONCE AND OMFG IT AIN'T TRUE)

please call him pretty. call him anything, for that matter. if its coming from your mouth, he’d love it. call him trash for all he cares, he’d be your trash anyday (same you lil hottie) <3

im gonna assume he's constantly on tiktok along with every other platform he could possibly be on 24/7. his screen time is a lil too high (same) but what did you expect. on top of that, his volume is constantly on 100 and he doesn’t like wearing headphones, so good luck with that.

kurt is always cold. his body is simply built differently. so instead of you putting your hands under his shirt, he’d put his under yours. (and would totally be offended and take it to heart if you don't want his icicle hands on you.) 

the absolute biggest attention whore ive ever seen. cuddling, hugs, hand holds, kisses, etc. 24/7. literally he’s fine with just being in your presence all day. wha- what do you mean you wanna run errands? who the fuck needs your time when kurie needs it more?

although hes an attention whore, kurt also needs his space and alone time. when he leaves, he leaves for a reason. don’t follow him out, don’t pester him when he gets back. unless you really wanna see why he loves “fuck, marry, kill.” so much. (goofy ahh threat)

you best believe most of the lovey dovey things in your relationship are gonna be streamed and recorded. not absolutely everything but enough to have a couples tiktok account together.

most definitely drops an L bomb during the first couple of weeks. he’s never had someone like you, and he doesn’t wanna let you go either. not that he’d actually let you go, anyway.

very whiny. like he's an actual man child, especially when he’s denied anything. (flashbacks to when you told him he couldn’t stream you doing random shit throughout your day.)

this bitch CANNOT see and i'll stand by that with my life. kurtie wears contacts. once in every blue moon he’ll actually let you see him with his chunky framed glasses on, but don’t post any pictures of him with them. he has a reputation to uphold, y/n!

he forgets to take care of himself all the time. shove him into a good steamy shower and get him to eat something other than a lunchable and can of off brand pepsi.

him getting up to lock his door after his mom walks in on you cuddling for the first time. he probably gets a padlock and a door stopper just to make sure it doesn’t happen again. (giving two middle school kids)

probably has a shrine of things he stole you gave him for whenever you're not there. it’s filled with everything from stuffed animals, to polaroid pictures of you sleeping. you don’t know about it and he’ll probably never tell you where it is.

not only does he giggle while he laughs, the mf snorts and clutches his stomach for dear life. it looks like his entire body is going through a stage 4 earthquake. 

gets into fierce arguments with the 12 year olds he plays with. im talking full screaming matches at ungodly hours of the night. (morning? morning. no it’s night- WAIT-)

“NO YOU��RE ACTUALLY DOGSHIT BRO! YOU LITERALLY DIED BEFORE ME-“

“kurtis. if you yell into that damn mic one more damn time–“

i wouldn’t say he’s incredibly toxic, but kurt can damn well manipulate any situation that he wanted. it’s a common tactic he’s used since he was a kid, and that wont change when it comes to you.

he has a cracked ass phone screen. literally pieces of glass are missing and he thinks it’s completely normal. please get him a screen protector asap

kicks his feet when he lays on his stomach. y'all cannot tell me he doesn't cause i won't listen whatsoever

please tell him to shut the hell up about his damn sub count. genuinely the amount of times he brings up views and likes during the day instead of regular human conversations is concerning. (THERAPY YOUR HONOR THERAPPYYY)

nsfw

kurt is a virgin. you know this, his passengers know this, everybody knows kurtie gets absolutely NO bitches. zero. zilch. damsels? non existent for him. 

he’s never had anybody as intimate as you before you came around, so he's instantly hooked after your first kiss together. 

loud. super loud. volume at 110% typa loud. i just cannot picture him being quiet whatsoever. he has to moan/whine/whimper, so on and so forth. 

him being extremely verbal isn’t always subjected to sexual situations, either. you could give him a quick squeeze on the shoulder and he’d groan super loud over the fact that your hands were on him.

if you're into it, he’s obviously gonna film it. y’know how famous he could get from a sextape, y/n? followers galore. he’d never actually share you though. they can look but they can’t touch.

kurtie likes boobies, but he also likes thighs. he wouldn’t say no to a fat ass, yet tummies are so appealing to him- he likes everything. just the fact that you’re his and he can actually touch any part of you is good for him.

cries when he cums. actually sobs. legitimately starts weeping. is the definition of ‘crying a river.’ its even better when he's overstimulated. (i just want one piece sir)

anotha one of those mfs that loves the idea of breeding, but would absolutely panic if he actually managed to get you pregnant. but then again, he could make a family channel! just think about the views it would rack up–

okay so kurt obviously isn’t the biggest dicked bitch in the neighborhood, but when he learns how to actually use what he’s got the sex is immaculate. jaw dropping, toe curling, has you smiling n giggling at the dinner table typa good.

stop drop and roll, halt, and pause cause imagine cockwarming him in his gaming chair until it’s eventually too much for him to handle, him putting his headset on you and giving you a severe case of wobbly legs.

could and will kill for you without an issue. he’s a scrawny little piece of shit, but man is he strong. mentally and physically. anybody you want, he’d find them for you. would probably also come home covered in blood and wanna give you a hug or some shit. (ew, kurtis.)

bucks his hips into your mouth while you give him head. at first it was an accident, then he realised what he was doing. he totally could stop it but the sounds of you gagging around him make him feel proud of himself.

i feel like he’d like having some music on during sex, but he’ll turn it of midway in the session cause he wants to hear every single sound you make. he can tell how much you’re enjoying it that way.

kurt has totally jacked off while you were in the same room. he especially likes to do it while you're napping in his bed. i 

don’t know why, he doesn’t know why, he just likes to do it.

grips on any and everything in sight and doesn't let go. seriously, you gotta pry him off of you before his nails start digging too hard. 

he blows condom balloons. you cannot look me in the eyes tell me kurtis kunkle hasn’t drawn a face on a blown up condom and given it to a person in his spree

he humps you like an actual bitch in heat. like you could be chill as hell on a random sunday evening and BAM the white man pounces and he’s rutting against you like his damn life depends on it.

he’s probably watched enough porn to know what a little bit of aftercare is, but was super awkward about it the first time. literally grabbed your sweaty body and gave you a side hug with a special high five. 

as much as i'd love to say kurtie is a certified bottom, he could totally dom whenever he wanted to. basically switches as quickly as he did when he told jessie she wasn’t going back to her home anytime soon. 

let's sit up here and be honest. if kurt is eating you out it isn’t for you, its for him. he takes pleasure in stuffing his face between your legs for hours on end. he tries to inconspicuously rut against the bed, but we all know what he’s doing.

imagine flirting with somebody in his spree as a joke, and him being dangerously silent about it until they get out of the car. if you could get a noise complaint from a vehicle, you’re getting one that day. 

literally do anything to him. he’s fine with it. you wanna choke him? sure! you wanna cut him? only if you use the hello kitty blade. you wanna bite him? he's offering several limbs in your direction. 

kurtie babe starts babbling when he gets close enough to cumming, especially when he decides to be talkative. it’ll turn from stable dirty talk to incoherent slurred words. 

when he eventually learns that an awkwardly sweaty side hug doesn’t fit as aftercare, he asks you what you’d like him to do for you. he’s officially maid kurt when it comes down to taking care of your needs.

the bath is ready, with your salts and bath bombs of choice, as well as the tower of bubbles that’ll take forever to go away. a pair of matching onesies and fuzzy socks are ready for both of you to slip into when you’re done soaking.

he falls asleep pretty quick, but he’ll try to stay up most of the time. one time he got into the tub before you and knocked out to the point where he didn’t know where he was when he woke up. 

wsp baby dicks and mama chicks :)

man oh man i havent been able to write anything in forever i was so sad abt it

idk if people still read abt kurt but i personally do and ill read my own shit if i have to

idk what else to put here except for the fact that likes n reblogs are appreciated and my nose is really cold and tysm for reading you hottie mctotties

- cora, the stressed out mother of 5 dog babies

© dobiemart 2022

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 7 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Sunday lunch with the nightcrew bois, what secrets will come out?

Warnings: Emotional abuse

W/C: 1.9k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 8

The sun was too fucking bright. You groaned and rolled over, mouth dry and head pounding. Your phone told you it was almost eleven, which meant you only had an hour to get ready. That was okay, though. You weren’t exactly dressing to impress. It was only Manny and Frankie . . . Frankie.With a wince, you remembered your conversation with him last night. Had it been painfully obvious that you were talking about yourself? Surely not, if he was drunk too. But as you showered, you thought about what he said, and realised that he was right. At least, he was right about what you could remember him saying. Leaving Kurt wouldn’t mean you would be alone and unloved. You had Manny and Sara; you knew they loved you. But that didn’t change that if you left, you’d have nowhere to go. You had never been the type of person to ask for handouts, especially sympathy handouts. There was just too much to think about.

A text from your phone from Sara told you as much as you needed to know about her night went.

Manifestation WORKS 😉 sent 8:34AM

You spent a few extra minutes washing your face, enjoying the feel of cool water on your skin. Flecks of makeup that you had slept in swirled down the drain, grey and black and blue. Tiny bits of glitter glinted on your cheeks, reminding you of days past when you would drown yourself in glitter to go out clubbing. The memory made you smile, remembering how carefree and happy you were just a few years ago.

Grabbing your darkest pair of sunglasses, you were ready to go. You hadn’t bothered with styling your hair beyond running a quick brush through, and your face was devoid of makeup aside from any remnants left from last night.

It was a quick walk to the bistro, your stomach roiling the entire time. You knew it was food you needed; you had already thrown up several times last night after arriving home. The thought of filling your stomach spurred you on, your feet moving slightly faster. You whipped out your phone to text Manny.

Get. Bread. Please.

There were a few unread messages from Kurt. You knew that avoiding him was immature and would only come back to bite you on the ass when he came home, but the thought of opening them and actually reading them made you feel ill. And he would know when you opened them; he complained whenever you turned your read receipts off. So, you kept them on, to keep the peace, and just avoided opening his messages until you were ready to deal with them.

The bistro came into view, and you saw Manny already sitting at your usual table on the outside terrace. You sat down gingerly next to him and flashed him a weak smile.

“You look terrible,” he said gleefully, pushing a basket of bread and butter your way. You grabbed a small roll and broke it open, inhaling the warm scent.

“I feelterrible,” you told him. “Hangovers don’t suit me.”

Manny laughed ruffled your hair. You groaned loudly, swatting his hand away, which only made him laugh harder.

“Lover, I’ve never seen you in this kind of state before, let me tease you a little,” he said. You flipped him off and ate another roll.

“Is Frankie here yet?” You asked, trying to keep the hope out of your voice. Judging by the look on Manny’s face, you had failed miserably.

“Crushing on the cook, are we?” He waggled his brows.

“No! Of course not!” You said quickly. Liar a tiny voice whispered in your ear. “I was just wondering if he got the right place.”

“Well, wonder no longer, that’s him isn’t it?”

From your spot on the terrace, you could see the familiar figure walking down the shady street to the bistro. Your palms dampened with sweat at the sight of him.

“Francisco!” Manny called, waving him over. Frankie broke into a half jog, raising his arm in a wave. You sunk slightly in your seat, praying that he wouldn’t bring up your conversation with him last night.

“How’s your hangover treating you?” Frankie asked, taking a seat at the table.

“Fucking terribly,” you said, “this is not at all what I was promised last night when I did my fourth shot.” Manny snorted and turned to the waitress who had appeared at your table.

“Good afternoon, dearest Andrea,” Manny said.

“Manny, hun, you know I hate when you use my full name,” Andi, as she preferred to be called, said. You liked Andi, she a couple years younger than you and working her way through a master’s in engineering. “What are we all having today?”

“My usual, please,” Manny said.

“The greasiest thing on the menu for me, I don’t care what it is,” you said. Andy smiled at you in sympathy, knowing the tell-tale signs of a hangover. She then turned to Frankie.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before,” she said, her voice suddenly an octave higher.

“Francisco, or Frankie if you like,” he said. “Can I have the alfredo?”

“Of course, Frankie, anything else I can get for you?”

You and Manny glanced at each other, Manny with his eyebrow slightly raised. You knew Andi was a flirt, you’d seen her flirt with customers dozens of times, but something about this felt different. Personal. You chewed the inside of your lip, hoping your annoyance didn’t show too plainly on your face.

“So, what didyou do last night, lover?” Manny turned to you once Andi left.

“Drank too much,” you said. “Kurt’s out of town and Sara’s in town so I . . . I could go out. And I saw Frankie and his friends out.”

“Are your friends all as gorgeous as you?” Manny asked, turning to Frankie who blushed deeply.

“I wouldn’t say I’m gorgeous,” he mumbled, adjusting his cap slightly. “I’m just average.”

“Gorgeous and humble,” Manny said, “your partner is a lucky person.”

“I’m not- I uh don’t- I’m not with anyone,” it dawned on you that Frankie was terrible at taking compliments.

“Maybe it’s my personal bias, but out of all his friends, Frankie is truly the most attractive of them,” you said. You knew this could lead to something dangerous, but the chance to see Frankie flustered was just too good to miss.

“Yo-you do?” he asked, turning an even deeper shade of red. You nodded seriously.

“Whoever you date in future is going to be very lucky,” Manny said. Then, never one to linger on a topic for too long, Manny took a sip of his water and declared that it was feelings time.

“Feelings time?” Frankie sounded uncertain.

“Well, neither of us can afford therapy, so we use each other as therapists,” Manny explained. “We started it when I was working at Lou’s, and it’s been so long since I’ve had a good feelings time. Of course, you don’t have to participate if you don’t want to, and if you do want, keep it as light or as heavy as your heart tells you. Consent is key.”

Frankie nodded, obviously still unsure of the whole situation. It struck you then how strange you and Manny would seem to an outsider. Andi returned with food for the three of you, placing down the biggest burger you had laid eyes on in front of you.

“Enjoy,” she said with a wink to Frankie. “Come find me personally if you’re not satisfied.”

You could’ve thrown up at the blatant flirting. What made it worse was Frankie seemed to be enjoying it, smiling up at Andi.

“I’ll start,” Manny said, once Andi was gone again. “I’m feeling overwhelmed recently with my new job and the house renovations James and I are undertaking. We had a big fight over fucking tiles last night, and I know we wouldn’t have if I could just be decisive.”

“Does James know how you’re feeling?” You asked. Manny shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’d normally tell him about it in a heartbeat, but he’s been stressed too, and I don’t want to add to it.”

“He’s your husband, right?” Frankie asked and Manny nodded. You glanced at him in surprise. “Husbands should support each other. You usually feel supported by him, right? So why is now any different? His stress is your stress, yours is his. That’s what you signed up for when you got married.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t be afraid to tell him what’s going on with you,” you said, realising how ironic that was coming from you.

Manny looked thoughtful as he cut into his vegetable stack. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. Now your turn, lover.” You groaned. Feelings time was fine when you were listening to other people, and when the feelings you had weren’t so messy. But you could filter your feelings, and you trusted the two men you sat with.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m feeling like I want to end my relationship. I feel like I’m fucking miserable, but I also feel like I’m trapped. Frankie, you remember that friend I told you about last night? It’s actually me.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious, but I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable by saying that.”

“Oh, my god,” you rubbed your face. “Right. So, like I said, I want to break up with Kurt, but it’s not easy to do.” You waited for one of them to interrupt you, when they didn’t, you went on. “For one, I don’t have enough money to move out. I don’t have much in savings at all because I keep needing to dig into it when he’s short on rent or money for bills or whatever. I don’t love him anymore, I don’t even know if I like him. Also, he said hedkillhimselfifieverleft.”

“Excuse me, he said what?” Manny leant forward, rage curdling his usually placid face. Frankie too, looked furious.

“He said he would kill himself if I ever left,” your voice was small. “I tried, one time, and-and he sent me a video of him tying a noose to a ceiling fan telling me it was my fault he was doing that. So, I went back, because I don’t want his death on my hands.” You realised with growing humiliation that you were crying.

Manny reached across the table and took your hand, holding it gently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to bother anyone,” you said, “it was my problem to deal with.”

“When does he come back?” Frankie asked quietly.

“Tomorrow,” you said. Manny and Frankie exchanged a look and Manny nodded.

“If you let us,” Manny said carefully, “we’re gonna help you get out. We won’t force you into anything, but we want to help.”

“Wait,” you sat back, confused, “wait. Have you too been conspiring behind my back? How? When?”

“No, not til this morning. I gave Frankie my number when I first met him, in case he had any questions. Then he messaged me this morning, and we got to talking about how we can help you.”

“If you want our help,” Frankie said. Part of you felt like you should’ve been angry, but you couldn’t be. Instead, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, with love. You grabbed a napkin and dabbed at your eyes under your sunglasses.

“I think I want help,” you said finally. You knew you couldn’t do this without help, even though it embarrassed you to admit that. Frankie nodded, satisfied.

“Alright, we need to make a plan.”

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209

[fulokis]

Fulokis WandaVision Rewrite- Chapter 2

Wanda furrowed her brow at her brother, "This is Vision, my husband. I swear you two have met before."

Peter processed what to say, "It's all a blur, honestly probably a side effect of being dead. Hey is that a Nintendo Entertainment system?"

"You and your games." Wanda said letting the subject of her brothers death go for the moment.

"You and your sitcoms." Peter shot back from inside the fridge. Grabbing a Capri Sun he speed over to the pantry and grabbed a chocodile, before heading back to the entry way to examine Vision.

"You never told me your brother had powers too." Vision said uncomfortably stepping to the side after Peter poked his face. "Or that he had died."

"Yes well..." Wanda said trying to figure out what to say.

"It runs in the family." Peter offered up still examining Vision.

"What no it doesn't." Wanda said furrowing her brow "Since when has it run in the family?"

"I believe what your brother is trying to say Wanda, is that it has something to do with genetics, rather than chance."

"Bingo!" Peter said.

"Shhhh." Wanda scolded, "If you wake up the kids I swear I will kill you."

"Kids?" Peter asked "First I'm an Uncle?! And second you had kids with the toaster over here?"

Vision frowned and Wanda shook her head, "Just try to be quiet okay?"

Peter chuckled, "You say that as if I'm not capable of being quiet."

"Vis can I talk to you for a minute?" Wanda asked half dragging the sinth into the kitchen.

"Are you okay Wanda?"

"Yeah yeah I'm fine why wouldn't I be?"

"Wanda you said I had met your brother, and that your brother had died. Neither of which I was aware of until now."

"Ohh I see. Yeah you two have met, it was quick. Literally he just ran past you. And about the whole death thing don't listen to him he's being dramatic."

"Wanda I find generally that people aren't dramatic about death." Vision said with visible confusion.

"He..." Wanda started, "We were six, and at school and well he choked on a potato because he was eating too fast. He was quiet at school I'm not sure why, but um the teacher wouldn't listen to me until he passed out. And the teacher went over to check on him... and his heart had stoped. The teacher started to try and revive him, and I don't know why but I went over to him and held his hand through it. He's fine but it left both of us shaken up."

"Oh I see." Vision said "Wanda do humans often claim premature death when they have no pulse?"

"Sometimes yes." Wanda said. "Look Pietro is probably going to need to sleep on the couch, he lives pretty far from here."

"Don't worry darling your family is my family." Vision said embracing Wanda and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

"You know this house reminds me of home!" Peter shouted from the living room.

Wanda sighed looking up at Vision. "I suppose I should go talk to him."

Vision smiled "Ill leave you two to catch up." He said before moving out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Wanda walked over to the living room and sat down in the chair next to the couch. "So..."

Peter smiled "Do you still have that little thing mom gave you? The one with the other half that she game to me?"

Wanda smiled and laughed slightly, "Yeah I do. I'm assuming you lost yours?"

"Nah, it's in a safe place." Peter said. "At least I think, honestly don't remember exactly where I put it."

"Of course you don't. Although I'm sure you remember where you put moms special rock."

"In the cookie jar." Peter said smiling at the idea "No robber was ever going to look in that ugly old thing."

"Ugly? Dad would kill you if he ever heard you say that." Peter froze for a second, he knew he had something important to tell someone or say or something. Something about his father. "Pietro?"

"Sorry I guess I just haven't thought about them in a while." Peter said watching as Wanda  got up.

"I'll make some hot chocolate." She said humming to herself a familiar tune.

"Thanks." Peter said standing up and walking into the kitchen to throw away his trash. "It's nice here. This town, your home, your family."

"Yeah I lucked out." Wanda said staring into the microwave.

"Yeah you did. I'm actually a little surprised."

"How so?"

"Well you settled down, you have a family. You don't have to worry about the world. You always wanted it, but I knew that you were terrified you wouldn't get it."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No." Peter shook his head "No not at all. I think mom and dad would both be proud of you. They would've loved to meet your kids."

"Pietro you haven't even met my kids."

"Aw come on sis, you worried I won't like them?"

"No I'm worried they won't like you.  There's a difference."

"Eh they'll like their old uncle P." Peter said and Wanda laughed. "But I'm being serious mom and dad would've loved them."

"Here." Wanda said handing Peter the hot chocolate mug to him.

Peter took a sip "You added a bit of cinnamon."

"Yeah just the way mom liked it." Wanda said, "Of course I'm not good with a stove in the way she was."

"It still tastes good." Peter said taking another sip, "So Uh how did you and toaster meet?"

"You really don't remember?" Wanda asked.

"Like I said it's a blur, although it's probably for the best."

"Yeah... for the best." Wanda said.

"I know that look." Peter said. "You're going to go watch a sitcom aren't you?"

"Maybe." Wanda replied setting the mug of hot chocolate she had made for herself on a coaster in the living room.

Peter followed her out to the living room walking over to the bookshelf in the corner. On the bookshelf sat a lonely chess piece. Peter picked up the black queen, running a finger along the piece. He stopped, he could remember something about the piece in his hand.

"She's lucky you know." Wanda said.

"What?" Peter asked sure for a second he heard a mans voice saying the words.

"She's lucky." Wanda said walking over, "Dad tried to teach you but you never had the patience."

"How is she lucky?" Peter asked.

"She's like us, unusual. We have powers like she does, and yet she's still not the most powerful piece on the board. She's always treated like she's second best, so she's lucky for anyone who is like her." Wanda explained.

Peter took a sharp breath, a memory came back to him almost as if he was reliving it. Through the fog in his mind he could remember. Him lounging on a couch Ororo sitting curled up in the sun on the other side of the couch reading a book. On an adjacent couch Jean was leaning on Scott having a hushed conversation with him. Jubilee and Kurt were sitting on the floor looking at a game of Life spread at their feet.

Peter had headphones in, but he didn't have any music playing. He knew that everyone else just figured he did and they let him be to take his 'nap'.

"Check." Charles said.

"Check mate." Erik replied placing a piece down.

"No it's not." Charles replied.

"Yes it is."

Charles sat and examined the board for a second "Fine you win this one my friend."

"You seem distracted today Charles."

"Distracted me? Never."

"Gah!" Kurt yelled in surprise accidentally teleporting into the table the two older mutants were using for their chess game. Peter startled at the loud noise and looked down to see a chess piece roll towards the couch. "Sorry Professor."

"Not to worry Kurt, we were done anyway." Charles said, "What startled you?"

Kurt started to explain to the professor what had happened. Peter tuned out the conversation sitting up and stretching. He bent down and picked up the piece that had rolled near the couch.

"She's lucky you know." Erik said watching the young mutant as he got up from the couch.

Peter nearly froze, he couldn't believe that Erik was talking to him. "What do you mean?"

"She's like us, powerful but always treated beneath those who have not evolved to a higher purpose. Always serving in the shadows of the less evolved."

Peter looked at the man slightly confused, "Has she brought you any luck?"

"A couple times yes." Erik replied, "She brought me family when I needed it."

"Oh." Peter replied, "Uh here." He said reaching out to give it to the man.

"Keep it." Erik said, nodding to Peters leg "You look like you could use a little luck."

"Heh luck, I don't need it." Peter said, "After all I did break you out of the pentagon without it. The legs just a little fluke that's all."

"Peter that's not something you need to boast about." Charles said handing Erik a a couple of renegade chess pieces.

Erik took the pieces from Charles and put them back with his set. Peter attempted to give the queen back to Erik. "Keep it, Ill get it back from you the next time I visit."

"Next Tuesday then?" Charles asked.

"Next Tuesday." Erik confirmed walking out of the room.

Peter waited until the man was out of earshot, "Why wouldn't he take it?" Peter asked Charles.

"Erik is a mystery that few can solve Peter."

"Haven't you professor?" Peter asked.

"Oh believe me I've tried." Charles said. "Best not to worry about it."

Peter looked down at the chess piece in his hand, he knew he was going to keep it close for the weekend. He had to keep it safe, if not for him but his father.

"Pietro?" Peter heard through his thoughts.

"What?" He asked still holding the chess piece.

"Are you okay?" Wanda asked touching his shoulder.

"Yeah, I just miss them ya know." Peter said mulling over the memory that he just seemingly formed.

Wanda nodded and gave him a hug. Peter went to place the queen back on the shelf but Wanda stopped him closing his hand around it. "Keep it, you could use some luck."

Peter wanted to protest but Wanda had already wandered off heading up the stairs. Peter walked over and sat down on the couch turning the piece over in his hands. Something wasn't right, or at least something didn't feel right. Peter sighed knowing he would have to mull over his thoughts later. Setting both his mug and the queen on the table he lie down on the couch and closed his eyes attempting to get some sleep.

The dreams he had were unsettling. He'd dreamt many times of death and dying, and yet these felt too real. Peter felt the pain, pain that shouldn't have been there. He'd been shot, he knew that in fact he was sure of that. And yet in his dream he nearly had his skull crushed while  something pulled him towards the ground. What was even more unsettling was the man from his memory seemed to be the one trying to kill him.

Peter startled awake the last image of a man with a helmet, staring directly at him. He looked around the room to get his bearings. Wanda's husband sat in the chair next to the couch, reading the mornings newspaper. Peter turned his head slightly to read the headline on the paper.

"Restless night?" Vision asked.

"What?" Peter asked, "Oh yeah. Nightmares. Come to think of it do you get them?"

"Nightmares?" Vision pondered, "No I don't think so. Although I do get some unsavory images occasionally during my rest period."

Peter sat up, "Must be simple to be a machine. No reason to have fake memories."

"My memory has fallacies, although much less so than a human." Vision said paying much more attention to his newspaper than Peter.

"Mutant." Peter mumbled under his breath out of habit.

"What was that?" Vision asked.

"What? Nothing. I didn't say anything. It's you. You must be hearing things."

"I process audio input." Vision corrected looking up from his paper at the ten year old coming down the stairs. "Billy! Come say hello to your uncle Pietro."

Peter looked at the kid, "Uncle P is fine."

Billy walked down the stairs slowly and came to sit on the opposite side of the couch closer to his father, clutching closer to the blanket he'd wrapped around himself. "He takes after Wanda."

Peter smiled and nodded at Vision, "Hey."

"Mom said you were very far away." Billy said.

"Peter smiled mischievously, "She wasn't wrong about me being far away, I mean I do live pretty far away..."

"Woah your hair is cool!" A kid shouted running down the stairs.

"Hey, Tommy what have we told you about running in the house?" Vision reprimanded.

The boy ignored his father and jumped on the couch right next to Peter "Can I touch it?"

Peter made a weird face, "I guess." He replied.

"Aww I thought it would feel cool too." Tommy said, "Who are you? Why are you here? Are you a secret agent?"

"That's Uncle P Tommy." Billy said.

"Woah!" Tommy yelled.

"Tommy what have we told you about yelling!" Wanda said coming down the stairs.

"But mom..."

"Listen to your mother kid." Peter said.

"See your Uncle knows what he's talking about."

"Do you listen to her Uncle P?" Billy asked.

Peter smiled and got up and sped towards Wanda, letting her stop him with her magic much to her resignation. "Nope." Peter said with a grin watching as the kids faces lit up with surprise. Wanda gave him a playful slap on the shoulder at his response, "But you should listen to her, she gives some good advice."

"That's better." Wanda said as the phone rang. Wanda sighed and picked it up, "Hello?... oh no...hold on... vis can you handle it?" Wanda asked nodding at the fact that Tommy had stolen his brothers blanket and started using it as a cape. "... what were you saying?... is there anything I can do?... are you sure?... okay feel better."

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"Vis Hon, Agnes can't babysit for us, she's come down with the flu."

"Rats, if only there were someone we could get to watch the kids." Vision said winking towards Peter.

"No, I am not letting..." Wanda started.

"Awwww." Billy said, "But mom I want to hang out with Uncle P."

"Please!?" Tommy asked.

Wanda frowned, "Oh I don't know. Vision what do you think?"

"I think that's an excellent idea. The kids get to hang out with their Uncle, you and I get to spend some time to ourselves. And Agnes doesn't have to worry too much about the kids. It's a Win-Win-Win situation dear."

"I'm still not sure." Wanda said.

"Don't sweat it Sis, nothing I can't handle." Peter said showing off his muddles for the twins.

"Please mom please??" Both boys pleaded.

Wanda sighed "Alright fine, but only because I'm outvoted."

"Yay!" Both twins shouted.

"But and this is a big but, you have to behave yourselves." Wanda said, "No T.V. After 9 and no desert after dinner you hear me?"

"Yes of course we hear you mom." Billy said, "Can we watch T.V. Until you go?"

"Yes you may." Wanda said, "Pietro can I talk to you?"

"Yeah." Peter said following his sister into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Wanda asked watching as Vision helped the boys with the T.V.

Peter snorted, "Oh come on sis, how bad can they really be? Cause I've died and come back, not much can be worse."

"Pietro that's what I'm worried about. You sure you don't want to rest, or take it easy?"

Peter placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder "My dear sister I've never once in my life taken it easy, and there's no way in my afterlife life I'm going to take it easy either."

Wanda smiled and shook her head, "You're still awful at jokes."

"Aw come on you know I'm better at practical jokes." Peter said pulling his sister into a hug. "But my point is I'll be fine and your kids will be fine, I won't let anything happen to them I promise."

"Thank you." Wanda said, "I'll do the same for you if you ever have kids."

"I know Wanda, I know." Peter said, his mind slipping back to the memory of the chess piece and the dream he had experienced the previous night. Something was wrong here he could feel it, something about the town, about Wanda's husband, about Agnes. They felt fake in a way, almost as if they weren't meant to be there. He felt uneasy most of the time, especially as he tried to parse out what was actually real and what was fake. One thing he knew for sure, Wanda and her kids were real. And he'd be damned if he let anything happen to them.

<< Previous    Next>>

[lilyvandersteen]

The Christmas Guest Chapter 9

Author’s Note: Are you ready for some Klaine kisses? I’m sure you are, so enjoy :-)

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 9: Kisses

Kurt woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night when all of a sudden, he went from toasty warm to cold. Where was that duvet? Oh, there it was!

Kurt tucked it close around and underneath him and tried to nod off again. He’d almost succeeded when the duvet was cruelly snatched loose again and a pillar of ice - or was it a boulder of granite? - was shoved against his back. He shivered and tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Gradually, the stone slab warmed up and softened around him, but not before he’d woken up enough to realize it was actually Blaine’s body. Why he’d ventured out of bed at such an ungodly hour was anybody’s guess, and Kurt hoped he’d make no more such excursions. He wanted to sleep at night, damn it, and preferably until he felt fully rested, thank you very much.

He tried to slip back into sleep, but now he felt too disgruntled and keyed up to manage that. He stayed still and tried to empty his mind. That wasn’t easy, because he was hyperaware of Blaine’s presence – his chest pressed against Kurt’s back, his legs entwined with Kurt’s, his arm slung over Kurt’s waist, his warm hand on top of Kurt’s and his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing pattern.

And then Kurt let out a wordless gasp, because… was that really a love declaration he’d just heard from Blaine? Surely, that was Blaine being sleep-drunk and not realizing whom exactly he was in bed with, right? Right?

Blaine seemed to fall asleep right after that, but Kurt lay awake staring at the ceiling until he heard Carole get up, and decided to go downstairs too. Might as well make a nice Christmas breakfast for everybody, now that he couldn’t sleep anyway.

Carole looked surprised when he entered the kitchen, and then worried. “Are you okay, honey? Is your throat troubling you again?”

Kurt shook his head and helped himself to coffee. “Just couldn’t sleep anymore, so I came here to do some baking.”

By the time Blaine showed up, Finn had already had three helpings of French toast and was pestering Kurt to take his Christstollen out of the oven already so that he could have a slice. “Mom won’t let me have more French toast, ‘cause Blaine hasn’t had any yet.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, and ignored him as much as he could.

Blaine seemed uncomfortable when the time came to exchange Christmas presents, but cheered up when he remembered he had gifts in his luggage that were apparently generic enough to work just as well for the Hudmel family as they would have for the Andersons.

Looking up from the gifts he’d just unpacked, Kurt saw Blaine hug Carole and beam with pride when she thanked him. His father seemed just as pleased, inspecting a set of… were those beer glasses?

As Carole had remarked before, Blaine seemed part of the family already. Kurt could so easily imagine a life with Blaine always by his side from now on. So clearly that it hurt to realize this might be snatched away from him as soon as their break was over and they had to head back to New York.

Kurt got a lump in his throat, and his eyes pricked. Once again, he found himself wishing that someway, somehow, they could untangle the mess they’d made of things and turn this into something real.

K & B

New Year’s Eve arrived, and though Kurt was looking forward to seeing his friends again, he was nervous as well. Rachel, he could deal with, but he hoped Mercedes would react well. She might be just as angry as Rachel that he hadn’t told her about Blaine yet. They hadn’t talked in several months, but still. And Santana was sure to be a nightmare. He hoped she wouldn’t scare Blaine off by asking him all sorts of invasive questions.

As usual when he felt stressed, he avoided everyone else in the house, and spent far more time choosing his outfit and getting ready than he otherwise would. He didn’t leave the sanctuary of his room until Finn threatened to leave without him.

At least all the prepping and fussing about his appearance hadn’t been for nothing. Blaine was gaping at him, struck speechless with admiration.

Well, that made Kurt feel much better already, so much that he didn’t even roll his eyes at his father’s loud warnings and instructions before they left.

When they arrived at the party, Rachel lit into Kurt at once, letting him have it for keeping silent about Blaine. After living with her for so long, Kurt knew Rachel inside out, and won the argument deftly, without so much as raising his voice.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he introduced Rachel to the newcomers, and then led the way to the makeshift bar, on high alert when he spotted Santana there.

He braced himself for crude remarks, but she let them go with barely an innuendo. He might have guessed she had other mischief on her mind, like tampering with their drinks. When Blaine pointed out she’d spiked them, Kurt felt his temper flare up, but he knew a confrontation with Santana never ended well for her opponent, so he just took a deep breath and slipped away to the kitchen for three soda cans.

Mercedes waylaid him as he was heading back. As he’d guessed, she wasn’t too pleased at being left out of the loop. Kurt weaseled out of that by telling her he had waited until he was sure Blaine was there to stay. “Every time I tell you I have met someone new, I’m always convinced it’s going well, and then after three dates, I find out they’re only in it for the hooking up. And I feel so ashamed, you know? So this time, I wanted to be sure this was going to last.”

Mercedes’ glower disappeared, and a thoughtful look replaced it. “And you think it is? You must, or you would never have taken him to meet your dad.”

Kurt nodded, and before he knew it, he was talking his friend’s ear off about Blaine, telling her how sweet and caring he was, how beautifully he sang, and how he had charmed everyone in the Hudmel household in two seconds flat. “He’s… He’s amazing, ‘Cedes. I… I could see myself marrying him. Not that… I know it’s way too early to be thinking along those lines, I know, but…”

Mercedes grinned. “Aww, someone’s smitten.”

Kurt bit his lip. There was no denying that, unfortunately.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, boo. You deserve this. But he better treat you right, or I’ll rip him a new one.”

Kurt sneaked a look in Blaine’s direction, and saw to his horror that he was being interrogated by Tina.

Uh-oh, I need to go rescue him!

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Startled, he whipped his head around, and saw Mercedes fake-pout at him.

“Sorry, ‘Cedes. You were saying?”

Mercedes shook her head, smiling. “We’ll talk later. You go and get back to your sweetheart.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice, and hurried to the love seat where Blaine was sitting. To his relief, Blaine was holding his own, telling Tina their fake meet cute story with relish, his eyes shining.

Kurt grinned happily and took over, pleased at how Tina lapped it all up.

When the story came to its end, Kurt saw Tina’s eyes flitting to Cathy, who was sitting next to them. Finn was nowhere near, and Cathy seemed very ill at ease.

Making a mental note to berate Finn for abandoning his girlfriend at a party where she knew practically no-one, Kurt turned the conversation to Tina, and she was only too happy to catch him up.

Mercedes joined them, and Kurt forgot about anything and anyone else as he chatted with her. It had been ages since their last phone call, and even longer since they’d seen each other in person, but their friendship was such that they could pick up where they had left off as if no time had passed at all.

Kurt was so focused on Mercedes that he was startled when Blaine asked him something.

Oh! Blaine! Oh wow, so much for berating Finn… I’m just as bad as he is! No, even worse. I’m forgetting all about Blaine while sitting on his lap!

And what was that Blaine was saying?

Mercedes cottoned on faster than Kurt, and announced for the whole room that Kurt and Blaine were going to sing together.

What?!

Before Kurt knew it, Blaine was tugging him along to the karaoke stage. He felt off balance both mentally and physically, stumbling over his feet and not feeling at all ready to sing.

Blaine, instead of giving Kurt a minute to compose himself, laughed away his concerns, and then, just when Kurt was about to lose his temper, Blaine gave him a sweet kiss on the hand and a smile so sunny that it warmed him from within and made his anger melt away.

Okay, okay. I can do this. I can.

They chose a karaoke classic Kurt had sung before, and he was pleased to note that their voices blended extremely well. In that respect, too, Blaine was a great match.

Kurt beamed at Blaine when the song came to its end, feeling invigorated.

It took only one moment – and one infuriating friend – to ruin his mood. Rachel came to congratulate them, and in the same breath, she demanded to sing with Blaine too.

Blaine, as accommodating as ever, seemed willing to duet with Rachel, but Kurt wasn’t having any of it.

Too long had Rachel swooped in and taken everything Kurt had his eye on. Not this time. No.

He sent Rachel a death glare, and with a loud “No!”, he grabbed Blaine’s hand and led him away from her, his blood thrumming “Mine” with every step he took.

And then suddenly Santana was there blocking their way and taunting him, and Kurt’s frustration with this whole situation reached its boiling point, and he shouted at her to leave them alone.

Seconds later, he regretted his outburst, but the damage was done. Santana narrowed her eyes and smirked and started making insinuations, and he was so sick of this. It turned out being teased about your relationship wasn’t much fun when there was no actual relationship to make up for the teasing. Nothing but a sweet guy who went along with pretty much anything people asked of him. Not just Kurt, and he would do well to remember that. They’d established some kind of friendship, yes, but that was all.

Suddenly, he felt bone-weary, and his response was lackluster. How soon after midnight was too soon to leave a New Year’s party, anyway?

He turned to Blaine to tell him he was tired and wanted to go home, but before he could get the first word out, Blaine gave him an intense look, cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle peck on the lips. Blaine’s kiss was deep and heady from the start, as if he wanted to tap into Kurt’s very essence.

Kurt, reeling inside, grabbed onto Blaine like a lifeline, because his legs felt like rubber all of a sudden, and his head was all woozy.

Wow. So that’s what kisses are supposed to be about. I’ve been missing out.

As soon as he’d gotten over his initial surprise, Kurt got with the program and started kissing back, winding his arms around Blaine’s middle, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

He would gladly have kissed Blaine the whole night through, but reality intervened, in the form of a very drunk Quinn bumping into him and jolting him out of his kiss-induced haze.

“Sorry,” she slurred, but Kurt paid more attention to the countdown going on. “Six! Five!”

So it wasn’t New Year yet? Then why had Blaine kissed him all of a sudden?

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!”

Everyone around them cheered, and Blaine moved in for another kiss, this one soft and sweet.

“Happy New Year,” Blaine whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

Kurt hoped his face didn’t show all the questions that were running through his head. They still had appearances to keep up, after all. They could discuss this when they were back in his bedroom.

Blaine gave Kurt a soft smile and moved in to nuzzle and kiss his neck.

Ooh, that feels good!

Kurt’s eyes snapped shut of his own accord, and he threw his head back to allow Blaine better access.

Moments later, a voice broke through the thick haze of arousal.

“Ugh, take your soft porn somewhere we don’t have to see it!”

Santana. Apparently, she hadn’t left when they started kissing.

Kurt opened his eyes to tell her she’d done worse with Brittany right in front of him, but before he could speak, someone else said, “Speak for yourself, San. I’m enjoying the show, boys, don’t stop!”

Quinn! Behind her, Sugar, Rachel, Tina and Mercedes were grinning and nodding, and even Puck looked intrigued. The only one who looked slightly nauseated was Finn, but Cathy was beaming at Kurt and winking.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Kurt announced. “Finn, Cathy, are you coming with us or do you want to stay a bit longer?”

The four of them walked home in silence. Kurt’s head was still overflowing with questions, but he didn’t want Finn to overhear anything, so he kept them all inside.

He shivered in the crisp winter night, and Blaine immediately slung an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“Better?”

“Much.”

And it was. Kurt happily basked in the body heat Blaine provided, and looked forward to having Blaine warm his icy feet in bed.

They snuck in silently. Finn had clearly decided that if Blaine could sleep over, then so could Cathy. Finn threw Kurt a defiant look, daring him to say something, but seemed only fair to Kurt, so all he said was “Goodnight” before he led Blaine upstairs.

They undressed in silence, and it wasn’t until they were snug in bed, Kurt soaking up Blaine’s heat greedily, that they spoke. Both at the same time.

“Why did you kiss me?”/ “Sorry for kissing you without asking first.”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. In the moonlight, his expression was serious, and his eyes soft and pleading.

“I… didn’t mind. I just wondered… Why?”

Blaine ducked his head. “Santana was… I thought… It seemed like a good idea at the time. To allay suspicions.”

Kurt digested this. “So it was just for show?”

Blaine swallowed before he answered, his Adam’s apple going up and down, and then he shook his head.

With bated breath, Kurt waited for him to say something more.

“I like you, okay?” Blaine then whisper-shouted. “I know we got thrown into this by a misunderstanding, and we’re not really boyfriends, but I would like to. You’re amazing, Kurt. And these past few day have shown me that we click really well. Do you think… Would you want to…?”

And then it was Kurt moving in for a kiss, clumsy and off-center and full of teeth because they were both grinning into it.

“Yes. Yes yes yes, please. Let’s try this for real.”

[kuiinncedes]

hi, i read your rant about kurtbastian and “lol klaine” people who ship it, and i am one of these people so i’d like to explain my pov. (this is too long lmao sorry”

first of all, my most surface level reason. i don’t think klaine has as much chemistry as kurtbastian. i’m a big fan of the enemies to lovers trope, i find grant and chris both attractive and according to my personal taste, kurtbastian fanfiction is more interesting.

second of all, blaine isn’t an innocent cinnamon roll who can’t do wrong. i don’t wanna get into all his faults, but to give the most obvious example:

the scandals parking lot scene. that isn’t cute or loving. that’s assault. even if it wasn’t, his motive of wanting to have sex that night was to be a better actor in west side story. rachel gets shit for doing the same thing, except she actually confessed. blaine never did, also being drunk is never an excuse. (on that note, kurt needed that role, blaine didn’t, yet he auditioned with a tony song)

another ones being cheating (obviously), giving kurt shit for texting when he did the same with sebastian (and knowing sebastian, those text were a lot less family friendly than chandlers), talking to burt about kurt needing sex-ed (?????), the very public proposal (c’mon now, some privacy), trying to get kurt to gain weight bc he felt insecure (yes, mental illness, not his fault he’s insecure but that doesn’t make him completely innocent), the gas pains incident (unstan), and honestly a lot more

in my opinion, blaine was never out of character in any of those things. he needs professional help. he said it himself, he sees kurt as a competition and a delicate little flower to take care of. (i guess they got therapy but i erased s6 from memory so no comment)

on the other hand, yes we prefer mostly fanon sebastian, mainly because he didn’t have a lot of screen time but i, and pretty much every kurtbastian shipper, think his character was interesting and worth exploring. he got snippets of redemption and honestly, fic writers do such a good job of making him in character but still not as awful. definitely not racist, none of us like that. (also me not liking blaine definitely has nothing to do with his race, i didn’t even know darren wasn’t white for a long time)

lastly, do you think that the version of klaine you all know and love is exactly canon compliant? is writing him as a “bad boy” or a total selfless sweetheart not fanon? isnt that what fanfics are all about? i don’t mind people shipping klaine, you do you. but that is not a perfect relationship and blaine isn’t a perfect man.

tbh i don’t really know how to respond bc i am obviously a klaine shipper and i respect your right to ship kurtbastian and say what you want about klaine, just preferably not directly in my inbox next time if you could (so i can have it hidden behind the necessary tags that i have filtered for a reason lol) :)

i know he’s not completely innocent, no one on this show hasn’t done questionable shit. other people have definitely put into words, better than i could, their defense for blaine and his actions that you’ve laid out here

and honestly i’m not sure if i should respond to what you’re saying. i’m absolutely going to defend blaine, i see the chemistry between klaine, i wholly believe he’s ultimately a good person, etc - but you and other people who don’t like him probably aren’t gonna change your views, just like i’m not gonna change mine, which is fine.

at the end of the day... this is my blog and i’m gonna continue to love blaine and ship klaine, and you can hate him and ship kurtbastian. i’m not gonna pretend to understand or like it... but yeah :P

[hippohead]

postcode envy (8/24)

read it on ao3

It’s not that Kurt’s never had a sex dream about a coworker before.  

He has, and it was mortifying, but he’d managed to push it to the back of his mind and move on. He’s never had a sex dream the night before filming the scene that the dream was set in, though.

He’s barely looked Blaine in the eye all morning, embarrassed about something that the poor man isn’t even aware of. He’d contemplated just telling Blaine so they could laugh it off and make it mean nothing, but then he’d seen him coming out of his dressing room and the sight of him made him feel... prickly. Hot. On edge. And he swiftly tossed that idea out the window.  

He can never, ever tell him.  

And now they’re on set and it looks exactly how it looked last night in his head, except this time Blaine is going to pull a knife on him the way he’s supposed to. He’s not going to pull Kurt’s arms above his head, and Kurt’s not going to push him back onto that god-awful couch. They will stick to the script.

Kurt can’t stop thinking about how much he prefers his version, and it’s incredibly not ideal.  

“Hey, Kurt?”

He looks at Blaine vaguely but before he can answer, Curtis is moving into their space and lowering his voice.

“Okay, guys – this is a pretty big scene and we’re probably going to do a bunch of camera rehearsals, so I just want to make sure you both remember where we’re at in the journey and the history between the characters. Kurt,” and he turns to look at him, an intensity in his eyes that Kurt has come to know over the past two weeks of filming, “I need you play this so seriously that the comedy will come from Blaine, okay?”

Kurt nods. He knows that. They’ve been over it more than once, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s somehow sweating through three layers of costume - one of them leather - because his mind keeps providing him with flashes of what didn’t happen here last night. It just... really feels like it did.  

They do three rehearsals and each time, the stunt coordinator steps in and tweaks things – where to put their hands and how to make it look more realistic. Donna asks them to hold their positions so lighting can adjust, and of course it’s the one where Blaine has Kurt pushed into the wall. It feels like some sort of cosmic teasing.

“Everything alright?” Blaine murmurs so that only Kurt can hear.  

He nods, so annoyingly aware of how close they are to each other. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything, though, so he turns his head and tries to focus. By the time they start filming, Kurt has somehow managed to bury the dream down far enough that he feels like Marvin.  

Or, at least, he thought he had.  

“Cut!”  

Curtis sounds a little exasperated – it's the third time he’s called cut and neither Blaine nor Kurt knows what it is he’s wanting. He hasn’t really explained, just keeps asking them to take it from the top. This time, thankfully, he pulls his headphones off and makes his way over to them. Blaine is still crowding Kurt despite the fact that the scene has stopped and when he realises, he puts a step of space between them.  

“Okay,” Curtis says once he’s next to them, and it looks like he’s desperately trying to figure out how to say what he wants to diplomatically. He doesn’t really succeed: “I need it to look more like you’re trying to kill each other, and less like you want to rip each other's clothes off.”

Blaine pulls his brows together, and Kurt wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. They both nod, entirely embarrassed, and they share a little look as Curtis walks away. It feels sort of charged, the look, but Kurt knows if he reads into it, he’ll only make it worse. He won’t be able to take on Curtis’ note, and so he breathes in a few times and clears his head. Buries the dream and buries Blaine even deeper.  

The person he sees in front of him is Donny, and he can’t stand him – he feels that prickly feeling he felt this morning but this time it has nothing to do with attraction. It’s about feeling so out-of-his-skin with hatred that his hand starts twitching for his fake gun even though they’re not up to that part in the scene yet. Blaine seems to have gotten to the right place too, and the energy on set feels dangerous.  

They don’t really talk to each other after they wrap the scene. Everything feels a bit too complicated right now, as if they need to untangle themselves from their characters before they can be them – Kurt and Blaine – again. It’s too heavy to wade through.  

He has a herbal tea in his dressing room and listens to some calming music, and when he heads to the studio reception area to get a ride back to his hotel, he feels a lot more like himself.  

“Hey. We did good today.”

Kurt turns and is shocked by how much relief he feels at seeing Blaine, not Donny. It’s almost as if he’s missed him, which should be ridiculous, but the feeling settles and it’s true. He misses Blaine when he has to spend twelve hours with Donny’s glares. He wonders if Blaine misses Kurt, or if the malice in Marvin doesn’t bother him.  

“Yeah, we did. I think the general public will believe that we want to murder each other.”

“Even if they also think we’re hopelessly in love,” Blaine adds on, but there’s none of the tease in it like there was last week. He’s just stating a fact, really, because the tabloids haven’t stopped reporting on it and he’s pretty sure there’s a hashtag on Twitter now, too.  

“Ready to go, Anderson?”

Kurt looks to the voice and the warmth in his body drains. It’s him; the exec. Kurt still doesn’t have a name. He feels his hands curl into fists involuntarily, but then Blaine is nodding at the man and saying goodbye to Kurt and starting to leave.

“Blaine,” he hisses, grabbing his arm to stop him from moving. “What are you doing? You can’t leave with him.”

There is something in Blaine’s eyes that Kurt has never seen there before: resignation. And then he shrugs, Kurt’s hand falling away with the movement, and he says with a conviction that contradicts the resignation, “It’s a business meeting, Kurt.”

He wants to chase after him, beg him not to go, tell him he has a terrible feeling about it. But there’s something about the way Blaine gets about this whole situation that stops him and reminds him that he doesn’t have any right to get involved. It’s Blaine’s life, and he has to trust that he knows what he’s doing.  

It doesn’t stop him from feeling a little ill at the sight of Blaine getting into a car with the man who had been looming over him two weeks ago, sex dream completely forgotten and replaced with a nervousness he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to be feeling.

[moniquill]

I’m going to talk about Greedfall. Fight me.

So recently Greedfall was on 70% off on Steam, and I bought it.

I did so fully in the knowledge that this game is a garbage fire. I knew from the moment I saw the trailers back in August 2019, and I made some posts about it:

https://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/187141616836/greedfall-comes-out-next-month-on-the-10th-get-so

https://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/187185773016/no-i-will-not-absolve-you-geek-friend

https://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/187213116466/i-think-youve-fundamentally-misunderstood-the

And reblogged people saying more and better things: 

https://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/187152585746/dalishious-untilthisdreamisgone-akedhi

A particularly large FUCK YOU to Darkfreya, who said this in the comments:

“ I will definitely buy this and hope it does well. We need more games like this. The fact that is a game about colonization does not bother me at all. Your character is neutral (and probably desperate trying search for a cure to a disease that is killing your people) Who you side with is your choice, and I seriously doubt siding with colonizers is seen as being the “good” choice.”

But there’s a valid argument to be made that you can’t REALLY criticize a game just based on trailers and synopses and lets plays and all that. You need to PLAY it, to play it all the way through and get the CONTEXT of the STORY.

So strap in chucklefucks, I did that. All spoilers, no repentance. 

 Note: I am writing this reaction on the fly as I play. I have had no spoilers except what’s in the promotional material. This isn’t so much a game review as an admonition of bullshit; I will be focusing on the main questline; the things that the game forces you to do to progress the story. I’ll also follow native-specific sidequests.

I am De Sardet, a man or woman who is the cousin of the new governor of The Congregations’ colony on Teer Fradee. I have an unexplained green birthmark on my face. My first quest item is saying goodbye to my mother, the Princess De Sardet, who has the mysterious and fatal illness that’s plaguing the land - the malichor. 

There is no mention whatsoever of my father at this time.

In Serene, I futz about doing minor sidequests, meeting my first two companions (Kurt and Vasco), and levelling up by looting boxes and murdering bandits. I get to witness the ravages of the malichor; the streets are full of dead and dying people, there're corpse wagons and bonfires, generally looks like a good time.

I meet with the two representatives of the Not!European nations that The Congregation is a neutral ally to both of. One is Theleme, the super religious spanish inquisition types who dress in Cromwell-era English and French clothing. The other is The Bridge Alliance, who are all about science and technology and seem vaguely middle east to north african flavored - they wear turbans and kaftans, their architecture has domes and minarets, etc. Each representative gives me a quest with MORAL DILEMMAS! Do I deliver the heretics to the guard for arrest, or allow them to escape? Do I do the same for the charlatan alchemist? If I listen to them, they’re all totally innocent, but letting them go is bad for my reputation with the diplomats. Except that I can lie. So yeah… this is pretty much a ‘Do you BE EVIL because you can, or do you act benevolent at absolutely no expense to yourself?’ choice.

As I’m getting on the boat to head to Teer Fradee, I am railroaded into my first boss fight! This bursts out of the side of an adjacent ship:

All I know about it is that it was brought back from Teer Fradee, and that ‘it was supposed to be out for days’ - presumably it’s drugged. It’s visibly injured. I see it take another bad hit from a falling mast in the pre-battle cutscene.

I have no choice but to kill it.

I beat it into submission (with magic, because that's what I spec’d into) and then get a cutscene where it’s helpless and desperately scrambling away from me, gazing at me with intelligent, desperate eyes.

I dispassionately shoot it in the head.

I am hailed as a hero.

Like seriously here’s the video (not mine, just pulled from youtube)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQfIHBIJiAU

We cutscene across the ocean, Vasco gets real serious with some shorebirds, and we arrive at Teer Fradee.

On the steps of the governor’s palace, I have my first encounter with a native - Siora, daughter of a chieftain, who is here to seek an audience with the governor. She speaks to me in the native tongue, presuming that I will understand. She has a facial marking similar to my own. I use my political clout to get her into the palace. When we meet my cousin the governor, he goes on and on about how similar Siora and I look; as if we could be related.

This is the first clue, in the story, that I - De Sardet - have native ancestry. There is no avenue for me to explore this at this time.

Siora wants us to be allies to her clan in their hostilities with the Bridge Alliance. I’m sent to speak with Mal Bladnid - the chieftain, her mom.

I’d like to mention at this time that the designers clearly went out of their way to NOT invoke NDN visual tropes with regards to be people of Teer Fradee - No beads, braids, and buckskins, no flute and drum music. They have an irish/celtic/norse/pagan vibe, as I read it. They have a ‘what even is that’ accent. They also wear a ton of different styles of face paint, the significance of which are never explained. 

The game at large seems to assign characters without regard to phenotype - any person of any faction may be european/black/asian in appearance. There are about a dozen faces in the entire game, endlessly recycled. It comes off as :FINGERS IN EARS, SHOUTING “WE DON’T SEE RACE!!!”:

At the first opportunity to talk to Siora back at my legate pad in New Serene, I can ask Siora if she really thought I was a Native. She says that yeah, she did, because I look like one, and she’s never seen a foreigner who’s an on ol menawi - she doesn’t tell me what that means, and I don’t have an option to ask. 

Following the main quest line and going to see Siora’s mom, I learn that she’s already taken off to fight a battle. We catch up at the tail end of the battle, hundreds of people on both sides are dead. I meet Siora’s sister, and I can talk her down from a roaring rampage of revenge. We find out that their mom’s been taken. We spend some time optionally looking for and healing survivors - you can also just let them die. Save them, and you gain a reputation boost with the natives. Then we explore the ruins, which are continental in style, and learn about the legend of super doom battle of old vs wave of colonizers the first - the native people made a pact with the land which raised guardians, and in exchange certain people become ol menawi. What this means is not explained at this time, other than it’s a pact with the land and why the native people have magic. 

At this point I diverge from the main quest to find out what happened to Siora’s mom; we go to the Bridge Alliance camp and find that she died on the way there. We have to argue/finagle/blackmail the captain of the outpost into allowing us to take her body.

Upon returning to Siora’s village, we find that her mother’s remains have been delivered, but new complication: there are missionaries from Theleme insisting that they had an agreement with queen Bladnid - the village would convert to Not!Christianity and in exchange Teleme would aid them against the Bridge Alliance. If they agree to this, they’ll have to bury Bladvid according to Theleme religious standards. Siora thinks this is bullshit, we must investigate. It is unclear how I’m supposed to pursue this. 

I return to Constantin and report on the ancient ruins where the battle took place. He tells me to go see Lady Morange, who tells me to go check out some other ruins near some mines. This continues the Ancient Mystery questline.

I proceed to San Mateus (which is also where I need to go for main questline things regarding talking to the Theleme leaders on the island) 

Entering the city for the first time thrusts me into a cutscene so fucking upsetting that I had to put the game away for a while and come back later. Upon entering the main square, I see a priest strangling a native man, while a creature not unlike the one I was forced to fight back in the first boss battle is being burned alive. The priest is demanding that the native man denounce his gods. He then strangles him to death. I am given no opportunity to intervene. Afterward, when I’m able to talk to the priest, I can declare myself as a believer or not - I can answer yes or no, or attempt charisma to weasel out of the question. If I fail charisma I have to answer yes or no. If I declare that I’m not a believer, we have a fight scene. I am not allowed to kill this man; the fight ends as soon as he’s incapacitated. He wanders off, declaring that he won’t forget this and that I’ll have to fight him again later.

THE BURNED CORPSE OF THE TREE-BEING REMAINS IN THE SAN MATEUS SQUARE FOR THE REST OF THE GAME.

In the palace I meet Petrus, after talking to the Mother Cardinal, Petrus becomes one of my companions. The Mother Cardinal asks me to investigate a native village that she believes is worshipping a demon. Yeah sure I’ll get right on that.

I proceed to Hikmet to talk about their science team’s work on the Malichor, and learn that the natives are very antagonistic toward their people. A soldier interrupts the conversation to tell us that an outpost has been routed in a native attack. I’m asked to assemble a team to investigate a science party that’s gone missing.

I return to Constantin to tell him about meeting the governors; he tells me to proceed with all the questlines I’ve opened and whines about how his parents never loved him. Worth noting at this time that Constantin appears not at all well. He’s pale and has dark circles under his eyes. He claims to be fine, just nauseated.

My main questline threads are now:

An Ancient Mystery

Scholars in the Expedition

Demonicial Cult

I choose to follow the cult one first, because Native involvement.

I proceed to Tir Dob, and meet with the investigators. The leader is frustrated because the natives don’t want to talk to her, and she’s convinced that there’s deep evil afoot. When I talk to the villagers, they dismiss me and tell me it’s not my business. Which, I mean, fair!

Notably, one woman asks about my mark/status an on ol manawi. When I say I’m not bound to anything/I didn’t do anything to bind myself, she tells me that one of my parents must have been a doneigad. I have no opportunity to pursue this.

There is no story-continuing option for me to leave it, or to pursue a path of gaining the villagers’ trust. I am required, by the game’s narrative, to spy on a villager. I break into his house and look at his things; I comment on how terrifying his fresco is and how morbid his altar and how horrible his mask. Siora points out that the mask is just worn to intimidate enemies in battle. It’s identical to the warthog spirit mask I can buy at any number of native merchants and wear. Petrus says that there’s obviously demon worship going on.

I tell sister Ephesia, and she sends me to follow the villager on his journey into a secret place in the forest. He disappears into a sacred grotto. I commune with a tree and experience a narrative, then have to solve a very obvious puzzle to enter the grotto - to invade a sacred place that I am obviously not welcome in. There is no option to refuse to do this that forwards the story. In the grotto I witness a ceremony that’s presented, through cinematography and music, to be SO TERRIFYING AND OBVIOUSLY EVIL because there’s… a small amount of bloodletting? A glowing tree spirit speaks at the end of the ritual and all participants triumphantly shout.

Siora, if in the party, says that the rituals of her tribe aren’t so scary, cementing that the game feels that this ritual is intrinsically horrifying in some way.

We go to ask the chief of the village about what we spied on, and she explains that it’s a ritual to evoke the strength of warriors and invoke a blessing against the Theleme investigators. She tells us that the voice we heard one one of the many faces of nature, and that if we proceed to another location and perform a ritual, we may hear from another face of nature - but that we might not be happy with the results.

We proceed to Vedvilvie, where we meet Aged Hermit. He tells us that a detachment of Bridge Alliance soldiers was here a long time ago, and gives us information about where to find their camp. We explore the swamp, looking at assorted corpses and ruined tents and ancient frescoes, then talk to Aged Hermit again, who tells us about a ritual to summon the earth. 

We perform the ritual, and are thrust into a boss battle with Nadaig Vedemen. There is literally no choice but to kill her. The Aged Hermit rebukes us for having done so, calling us murderers and monsters. Gotta say, I absolutely agree with him. Siora tells him to calm down, that we were only defending ourselves. She explains to me that he knew her before she became a Nadaig - that Nadaig are Doneigada who’ve called upon the power of the island to the point of physical transformation. That it will happen to her and to me, eventually. That’s what on ol menawi and the mark means.

There is no opportunity for me, as a player, to avoid killing the Nadaig.

We return to Tir Dob and confront Derdre about sending us into a death trap; she had hoped the Nadaig would kill us. We now know secrets that no one outside the clan has ever known. She asks us not to tell. 

I proceed to the Bridge Alliance Scholars’ camp and find they’ve been captured by locals, who want to trade them for prisoners that the Alliance has previously taken. We run into some locals who give us important information about where the prisoners are being held, because they feel it would be better if the prisoners were gone. We meet Aphra, who joins the party and leads us to where prisoners are being held. Two options here - guns blazing bloodbath, or ghost sneak mission where we bust the prisoners out undetected and harm no one. I choose the ghost option. Regardless, upon bringing the rescued scholars back to camp I’m confronted by three natives who I have to fight with. Once defeated, I have the option to either spare their lives or finish them off. Only Siora argues that I should let them live. I do.

We return to Hikmet and talk to the governor. This opens the Search for Panacea questline. Aphra is now a permanent possible companion. 

Aphra’s personal quest: More required spying on the natives. Siora greatly disapproves. I have no option to shut this shit down, to tell her ‘No, we are not doing that.’ We spy on the elders, who are having a meditative session where they listen to the voice of en on mil frichtimen. They catch us spying and call us down, chastise us, and then invite us to watch the rest. Aphra makes comments about how ‘it’s almost like they really can hear a voice on the wind; must be delusion-level faith!’ She then says she has to mull this over and to talk about it later.

We proceed to the ruins that Lady Morange mentioned; two of the three required fetch items are in the general vicinity of a Nadaig. It is possible, through sneaking, to reach them without having to fight the Nadaig, so I do that. We find that the people who built the ruins were…. DUN DUN DUN…. From the congregation! We used to be EVIL! Like we’re totally not now!

We report to Constantin, who is looking even more sickly. He tells us to investigate this history with the Nauts and laments more about his daddy issues. He also says that I look too much like a native for it to be a coincidence which, at this point, fucking DUH. This opens the The Prince’s Secret questline. 

Meanwhile, on the quest for panacea, I head back to the village where I freed the Alliance prisoners to talk to the chief. There’s several dialog options, since I didn’t go bloodbath when rescuing the prisoners, but there’s also a spying option. One way or another, I gain the information that I need to go to the village of Vigshadir in Frasoneigad to find the Tierna harch cadachtas. Siora knows how to get there.

Upon arriving, I’m told that this is one of the holiest sites on the island and I’m not welcome. Alas, I can’t continue the story while respecting that answer - I can insist forcefully or I can gain the villagers’ trust with a couple of fetch quests. Either way, I end up learning where the Tierna harch cadachtas can be found. I disturb her taking a nap with some salamanders. She’s not at all happy to see me, even when Siora speaks on my behalf. She sicks her salamanders on me and takes off; I have to kill them. I then follow her up a path to a root door that requires an offering to unlock. Siora suggests that it’s a seed; we go back to the village and talk her bodyguard into letting us into her house to poke around. I should mention that there’s a bunch of lootable stuff in her house, and the game doesn’t punish me in any way for taking it. I find the correct seed and we proceed through the root door to a maze that Siora says is SUPER SACRED. Nevertheless, I’m forced to kill a bunch of animals on my way through. I tried sneaking several times; due to bottlenecking, the animals always become hostile.  Toward the end of the path, we also come upon an instantly hostile native man, who I am also forced to kill. 

We come out on the other side of the maze in Credgwen, just in time to witness the tierna running from and being gunned down by an Alliance solider. Cradling a bullet wound to her abdomen, the soldier is poised to execute her with a pisol shot to the head when Nadaig Fresamen appears and throws him ass over head. The Tierna then tells Nadaig Fresamen to attack us, and I’m once again in a mandatory boss battle where I am forced by the narrative to kill a Nadaig. Once again it ends in a cutscene where I shoot the Nadaig in the head. I think maybe the game designers think this looks badass, instead of coldly sociopathic? The Tierna is visibly distraught, screaming and crying at what we’ve done. She’s about to attack us when she’s shot in the back by the Alliance Soldier, who then says a bunch of Evily McEvil things, then tries to fight us. Upon besting him, I get to either kill or spare him. 

I kill the shit out of him. 

We bring the very very wounded tierna back to her village, where she wakes up and tries to kill me (Siora calling her off). She explains that the panacea she made is to treat islanders who’ve escaped captivity from the Alliance; those who are captured are gruesomely tortured in the name of science.  She suggests that the malichor might be a curse from En on mil frichtimen. 

We take this news to Constantin. It is now super duper obvious that he is very sick.

Siora tells us who we need to talk to about En on mil frichtimen, Constantin tells us to do that. 

I’m level 16 now.

I hop back to the other main questline, grabbing Petrus and Vasco to go to San Matheus and investigate the Nauts’ problems there. Go to talk to Bishop Domitius but am pulled into a cutscene where Mother Cornelia asks me to get back some sacred tablets that she thinks were stolen by island natives. Yeah, lady, I’ll get right on that. I talk to Bishop Domitius, who accuses the Nauts of being the origin of the malichor. I go to the docs to investigate the rumors. Long story short, the Nauts are fine and I shut down the Inquisition’s investigation of them. When I get back to my residence, there’s a letter asking me to come see some natives at the embassy. Because Native rep[resentation and Native storylines are pretty much all I care about in this game, I pause everything else to pursue that, bringing Siora and Petrus.

I meet with them in the woods, where they’re camped out with the body of an inquisitor they killed. Petrus greatly disapproves. We get some keys and a letter from them, learn that there’s a camp that Native captives are being brought to, and go to investigate the inquisitor’s house for more details. We rummage through his house, find another letter detailing the camp and a chest in the order headquarters. We also find a key to said chest. On our way out, we’re confronted by a bunch of ordo luminus thugs. I have the option to get Petus to talk them down, so I do.

We go back to the place where the natives are holed up and find we’ve been followed by inquisitors. Talk talk fight; we kill them. The natives thank us and say they’ll report this to queen Derdre. I’m now level 17.

I head back to Admiral Cabral to tell her about shutting down the Naut investigation. She tells me that the Nauts discovered the island 200 years ago, the congregation tried to colonize, a few bad apple lords got all tyrannical, and both the natives and thier own workers rebelled against them. The colony was destroyed and only a few survivors made it out. The princes of the congregation swept it all under the rug in humiliation. Then she drops the bomb that I’ve been waiting for the whole game: I am the product of a later Congregation expedition. I’m the child of a Native and was born on a Naut ship. So yeah, I’ve been playing as a stolen child divorced from my native culture this whole time. I’m just gonna leave this link here:

https://www.vox.com/2019/10/14/20913408/us-stole-thousands-of-native-american-children

I immediately go to demand answers from Constantin.

This is a major act shift; things I find out in the next string of cutscenes:

Constantin has the malichor and is totally dying.

Kurt comes in to warn us about a coup d’etat that’s in the works - the coin guard plants to take out all three governors and seize control of the island. Apparently if you haven’t followed his personal questline about abuse within the coin guard ranks, he betrays you at this time. I’ve been doing the companion quests all along but not commenting on ones that don’t involve natives. 

After putting down the coup d’etat, I go back to Constantin to rally. We’re now in Act Two, and my main quests are as follows:

The Suffering of Constantin, where I have three leads - San Matheus, Hikmet, and Native.

The Trial of the Waters, where I need to go speak to Glendan.

So I head to Wenshaveye to talk to the healer there. The village is having problems with missionaries and with abruptly and violently aggressive tenlens - animals that are usually docile. The aggressive tenlen attacks started right about the same time the missionaries showed up. Hmm.

There’s an interlude here where I come upon a bunch of merchants fighting a Nadaig and for a brilliant moment I thought I could kill the merchants and save the Nadaig but no. It’s instantly hostile to me and I have to kill it. The killing of Nadaig in this game is treated as a neutral action, like killing wild animals. 

So yeah turns out the missionaries brought a vicious white tenlen, holed it up in a cave, it was riling up the others, it killed two village kids who went into the woods to canoodle. I shut all that down, kicked the missionaries out, and was able to bring the healer to Constantin. Plot thread resolved! Let’s go see Glendan.

I can’t get in to see the council without having a seal proving that I’m the chosen representative of a current council member. Fetch quest time - literally I just have to go back and talk to Cadasach, the healer, and he hands me the seal I need. I presume it’s more involved if I’d chosen one of the other healing paths. 

I talk to Glendan, he tells me I need to complete the trial of the waters, a new questline opens. Also, the next part of Siora’s questline - promises set in stone - opens. I drop everything and follow that because I’m kind of in love with Siora.

We head to her village and talk to the missionaries, they send us to go see the stone that the agreement was engraved on, we get there and fight a bunch of enemies, the stone is destroyed and we can’t read it. Time to go see the engraver, Caradeg. We get to his house to find it absolutely destroyed. The only clue is a stone bearing the mark of the Dunncas’ clan. So we head to Vigyigidaw. Dunncas tells us that they exiled Caradeg because he wanted to make war on the settlers. Have fun, bootlicker. On my way out of the village I’m snagged by a guy with a side quest; he wants me to get some settlers to stop preventing the clan from going into a sacred glade to replant trees that the settler clear cut. See sidequests for details on that.

Before doing Trial of the Waters, I decide to go check up on Eden and Father Iustinius, bringing Siora and Petrus.

Stolen tablets, lots of talk about how primitive and naive the natives are and how those who aren’t converted are obviously worshiping demons and that’s who must have stolen the tablets.

Siora comments that this place is horrifying, and wonders how the people could have tolerated the priests building continental-style buildings over the top of their village.

We go to talk to the theologians, then to Ler. Because I’m not awesome at Charisma, I’m left with no option except to threaten and bully my way into him giving me the name of an old woman, mother of one of the warriors who left the village. I lose re with both the natives at large and Siora personally. The old woman tells us where to find the exiles, and gives us hints on how to avoid traps and sneak in unseen. She implores us not to hurt her son.

We head for the exiles’ camp. I choose the option where I sneak in and don’t murder everyone, and the old woman meets us as we’re leaving and thanks us for that, saying she’s going to try and talk her son into finding a new clan. We head back to Eden.

They thank us for the tablets, are excited to set out a new expedition, the game tells me to wait 24 hours for the results. So I have to hike my ass to out camp, sleep 24 hours, and haul back to where I just was to find out that a party that went into the swamp ran afoul of…. something.

Siora points out that the survivor was obviously bitten by a poisonous swamp creature and that a local healer probably knows the remedy. We go talk to Ler again.

Ler tells us that the village doneigad is one of the exiles, but that the old woman we talked to earlier knows plants well. I’m pretty sure that if we’d murdered her son to death in the previous quest, she’d refuse to help us. Because we didn’t, she makes us a potion. The wounded guy wakes up and begs us to go and rescue his dumbass loser friends, so of course I do. 

We’re going back to Vedvilvie, because of course we are.

We arrive at the camp, listen to both the ordo luminous guy and the research sister whine about how the other is mean/incompetant, and go to investigate the dig sites. We find a dude with a caved in skull who was clearly struck from behind with a mace, a guy who was killed to death by lewolans (big lizards), and a poor chump was was obviously stabbed to death before being fed to lewolans. Siora says it’s pretty clear that Mr Inquisition orchestrated this to frame the research lady. I agree. We go to confront him. Choices: Take a bribe and side with him, tell him to leave the expedition, expose his bullshit to everyone.

The ‘correct’ choice in the game is not to reveal his crimes before everyone, but to banish him. Because [Centrist.jpeg goes here]

We follow the path of San Matheus, come up against a nadaig magamen, murder it to death, and enter a cavern. Long story short, Saint Mat totally became a doneigad. He saw on en mil frichtimen as an extension of the concept of light and prayed to him. Also I found a bitchin’ set of holy armor. I put it on Petrus. 

Theleme’s gonna be big mad. We head back to Eugenia to tell her, are confronted by Virgil and the Inquisition. He wants to destroy the relics and evidence that Sait Mat converted to the faith of the island, we kill him to death and go tattle to Mommy Cardinal. I push her to make the decision to reveal the truth to the masses, and to visit the cave herself. 

Theleme is not, in fact, big mad.

Anyway, returning to the main questline.

So there’s two options through the cave of testing, bloodbath or sneak. I chose sneak. Touch a basin, have a vision, solve a very easy puzzle - just like the tree one from earlier. 

There’s a Nadiag waiting, and the command prompt I have for it after solving the puzzle is ‘Tame’... yanno, like one does with an animal. Because indigenous people are fauna. Fucking gross.

I see a fresco depicting a spirit of the volcano. I go to talk to Glendan. He sends me to find the high king, who is missing. I need to see the rest of the high council: Derdre, Dunncas, Ullan. Guess it’s time to finally deal with the Ullan plotline. See side quests for details.

When I head back to Hikmet, I get a whole string of cutscenes because it’s been a while since I’ve been there - including one where I follow up with the islander rebellion. The governor asks me to parlay with the leaders of the rebellion, where I find out that the on ol menawi who the alliance have been kidnapping from villages have been taken to laboratories for experiments - where they have been tortured and killed. This lines up with all earlier accusations, and with that Hikmet dude who was trying to murder the tierna and me - he said they were going to dissect her. So yeah. I go to thier main camp, and fucking surprise, I was followed by Alliance soldiers who promptly stark attacking. I have two choices: fight alongside the natives or put an end to the rebellion. I, of course, fight on Team Native. I then proceed back to Hikmet to ask What The Entire Fuck, Sir? He denies knowing anything about natives being captured; he assures me that this lab is a medical research center. I declare that I”m gonna take a look at it myself.

 I grab Aphra for this, and in the process agree to continue her personal questline. We ask the young apprentices about how to get into the Cave of Knowledge, which, I cannot state enough, IS A SACRED PLACE CLOSED TO OUTSIDERS. Only people who are becoming doneigad are supposed to go there. The narrative makes me. This happening, over and over, gives lie to the premise that the game allows you to make good or evil moral choices - that you can DECIDE to be a good guy or a bad guy. You can’t. You can either choose to violate the sacred spaces of the indigenous people or -not play this game-. There is no ‘Sit Aphra down and tell her that it is implicitly wrong to do this’ option. 

So we go to the cave, it has a seed gate, we find some brigands who’ve murdered a native, they’re planning to dynamite thier way into the cave, we can talk them inot leaving or murder them to death, guess which one I chose just guess. We get the seed and enter the cave.

In the cave, we examine several frescoes; one depicts a ritual where, in a circle, someone is pouring blood on a stone in the presence of a Nadaig. Another depicts the same figure, but now marked as an on ol menawi. We then hear people coming and are prompted to hide, because being caught here would sure lose us the trust of the natives. Which we do not deserve at all, after this. The game prompts me to spy on the young people, which I do, listening in on thier conversation. When we leave the cave, Aphra says that clearly we need to spy on a whole, actual ritual. The game teases me with ‘accept’ or ‘refuse’, but the choice are actually ‘start the time now, or later’ - the story doesn’t allow me to ACTUALLY refuse. We show up, and Dunncas actually gives us permission to watch if we don’t interfere.

After the ritual, Alliance soldiers show up. We kill them to death. The chiefs thanks us for having been there. Aphra says we should look into Dr. Asili. So off to the lab we go.

I’m pretty sure, narratively, that I’m supposed to have stealthed my way through this. However, after seeing a pit of burning bodies and people in cages right as I entered, I just bloodbathed my way through. Also arrested the apprentices and killed the fuck out of Asili. Fun fact: Asili gave Constantin the malichor! Also me, but I’m resistant, since native and on ol menawi. 

I return to talk to Constantin about the sanctuary and the Hikmet problem and everything and find that he’s gone on a journey with the doneigad healer and things have gone wrong. I set out after him. I follow combat signs and talk to Aiden in wenshaveye, then head to the alliance outpost. We catch up with a badly wounded and unconscious survivor, get him a potion, and then have to wait 24 hours. This is a repeated feature of the game an annoying as hell, because the only way to wait is to return to camp. When he’s awake he describes the attack; animals controlled by some kind of native sorcerer and fire and explosions. A native grabbed Constantin and ran off with him. We continue the investigation - I go to talk to Daren. Daren says that they weren’t behind the attack - no one would ever attack Catasach. Catasach is, btw, super dead. I examine the body. He was killed by something than can wield magma. Good times. Daren tells us there’s a ritual by which a doneigad can see the last moments of his life - only tierna can perform it. Good thing we saved her earlier…. From danger that we put her in….

So we head off to see tierna, and she readily agrees because I avenged her earlier. Pretty sure it would have taken more convincing if I’d let the dude who shot her live. One fetch quest to get spell components later, we’re able to perform the ritual. 

Vinbarr did it.

I go to question Derdre, Ullan, or Duncas. The latter two have the best opinion of me, so I hit up Dunncas first. Dunncas tells me to go to Wennshavar. Folks there give me some backstory, tell me to find Cera at the cave of knowledge. 

We come upon alliance folks torturing a native woman, presumably Cera. This bitch has a whole ass villian speech. I’m pretty sure she’s one of the people I saved with Aphra’s science team? Could just be a recycled face though. We run down to interrupt. Aphra wants to reason with her, Siora wants to kill her. Yep, it’s the science team I saved. I have several options here; fight them, use intuition to remind them I saved them, threaten them, or let Aphra speak. I choose to let Aphra speak more because I want to hear what she says than anything.

Aphra shames her and reminds her that they left Asili together because of his cruelty. She whines that Aphra knows she’s not REALLY like that, and stomps off like an angry toddler. No fight. Cera thanks us for saving her, leads us to the cave, and opens it for us.

Inside the cave we find a fresh new fresco; it shows Vinbarr going to talk to the spirit of the mountain. He’s gone to join En on mil frichtimen. We see another fresco depicting a nadaig meneimen - the bird/mountain form. Vinnbar’s gonna turn into one. We look at some other murals, I let slip that I’m looking for Constantin, Cera peaces out and seals us in the cave because she thinks we’re looking for Vinnbar on a vengeance quest. We find another way out. The path is now laden with traps because she doesn’t want to be followed. Sorry, Cera, that no one informed you that I am a protagonist and thus no one can prevail against me. 

We go to the mountain passage depicted in the fresco, go through a cave maze, and find the mountain trail to the sanctuary. We meet up with Cera, who forces us to fight her. We snag a seed from her body after killing her and her folks to death. Which the game offered no way out of doing. Now we have both seeds and can open the sanctuary. We scamper through some scenic vista and arrive to find Vinnbar burying Constantin with rocks using telekinesis. He says the on en mil frichtimen told him constantine is the bringer of doomtimes. Now we have to have a boss fight. Partway through, he transforms into a nadaig. We continue fighting andf kill him to death. 

I sure do murder a lot of nadaig in this game.

We return Constantin to New Serene and I’m pretty sure this is the break into act 3… Catasach made Constantin on ol menawi and he is stoked about it. He has branch antlers and pointy teeth and yellow eyes and feels great. I am concerned. 

Time to go talk to Glendan again. 

I lose three rep with the natives over, yanno, having murdered their high king to death. I now have to go and talk to the three potential high kings and gain the support of one of them - Derdre, Dunncas, or Ullan. Of those three, Dunncas is the only one who hasn’t tried to murder me or betrayed my trust so… off to Dunncas. His agenda is balance and healing. He easily agrees to let me see en on mil frichtimen if he’s chosen, and tells me how to make sure that he is - if I get a spectacular ancient crown from the grave of the high king that became the first guardian. He expresses distaste for using such a method. Siora is also worried about me making a decision that will impact all of her people. Gotta say that I agree, I have absolutely no place being involved in this decision at all - let’s see if the narrative lets me opt out of meddling! I go to see the other two candidates and hear out their agendas, out of fairness. 

Ullan’s agenda is peace and alliance with the colonizers. He also readily agrees to help me.

Derdre wants to repel the colonists and take back the island. She says she’ll let me see en on mil frichtimen only if I rally Eseld/Siora’s tribe and join in the attack on the Ordo Luminous camp. Which, morally, I am absolutely all for. However, it seems like the game is heavily leaning on Dunncas as ‘the right choice’.

But yeah, fuck it, I’m backing Derdre all day long. Lets fuck up some Spanish Inquisition!

I have the option to inform the mother cardinal of the coming attack. Why the entire fuck would I do that?

So I destroy the fuck out of the camp and murder a bunch of inquiition torturers and free the surviving prisoners and gather evidence of war crimes. Then I go to mommy cardinal, who is big mad (Theleme -2 rep) that I didn’t tell her first. Boo. Fucking. Hoo. 

Having done that, no there is no way to proceed in the questline without retrieving the crown, which involved murdering a Nadaig Magamen. I get the crown, and Derdre meets me there and rebukes me for entering a sacred place, trying to take the crown and throw the election, as an outsider. She is 100% correct. I give her the crown. 

I wait two days and then go see en on mil frichtimen, who tells me that the malichor is the result of how the continental people treat their land. I’d like to pause here and talk about the role of Magical Natives in Green Aesop stories. Let’s review some tropes: 

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CloserToEarth

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InHarmonyWithNature

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MagicalNativeAmerican

This some some colors of the wind / Avatar’s blue cat people bullshit, the idea that indigenous people are implicitly and intrinsically more -one with the earth- and that ‘modern civilization’ has lost this, to their detriment, and can only heal through <s>cultural appropriation</s> learning and adopting deep earthy truths known by indigenous people. The point of this in the story is to tell a Green Aesop - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GreenAesop - it sets a paradeigm of indigenous people being the noblest of noble savages - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NobleSavage - of indigenous people as a simpler, greener form of humanity. It’s othering. I’ve written a lot about this in the past, check out my post about woo: https://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/32577796262/the-following-is-a-post-about-woo

This particular brand of othering of indigenous people directly and personally fucked me up, as an indigenous person, when I was a kid. That could be why I have a personal grudge against it. 

Moving along. 

en on mil frichtimen alo tells me that Constantin is the bringer of doom times, and that Catasach essentially stole power from the island to keep him alive. I need to put a stop to his endless bitter hateful hunger. So yeah, that’s a thing. I go check up on my dear cousin.

When I show up, emissaries from the alliance and theleme are there begging Constantin for troops and also me; they’re suffering horrible attacks on their outposts and people. They’re blaming the natives. I mean, to be fair I did just crown queen Derdre Kill ‘Em All so….just saying. But moving on, I talk to Constantin about the sanctuary. He...doesn’t react well to the warnings about himself. When I ask him about his body with the island, it sure does seem like he got high on apotheosis and wants another hit. He doesn’t believe that the malichor on the continent is the fault of the continentals. 

My main quest lines are now

The attack on San Matheus

The attack on Hikmet 

And honestly fuck both those places because both of them were running torture camps but whatever, I guess I’m off to investigate.

Mommy Cardinal over in San Mateus wants me to hit up an outpost that’s being attacked relentlessly by wild animals. Speculation is that ‘island demons’ are controlling them.

Governor Burhan says the same thing’s happening to his folks. 

Upon checking it out, the islanders are also being attacked; the animals are attacking indiscriminately, and while having that conversation a guy bursts in to say the guardian of the village (a nadaig glendemen) has turned on his people.  So we kill it to death in a boss fight and it’s revealed that the corrupted nadaig was causing the animals to be killrabid. Now that it’s dead, the animals are back to normal. 

Samesies over near San Matheus. 

A human must be responsible, the creatures wouldn’t be so coordinated otherwise.

Is it my cousin? I bet it’s my cousin. 

We go talk to Constantin.

He says ‘ha ha ha nothing to worry about….peace out, my adorable cousin!’ and takes off to parts unknown. I shake down his guards, but all they can tell me is that he’s going north outside the city. I rummage through his papers, and find his journal. Yeeeeah he’s super high on apotheosis and wants to become a god. Like, supplant and replace on en mil frichtimen. And he’s off to ‘get rid of’ some natives in Cwenvar who saw him the other night and might denounce his actions. I’m gonna have to take out my cousin by the end of this game and it will be a tearjerker cutscene. Calling it now. 

We head to Cwenvar to talk to the natives. They show me how to spy on Constantin. We follow him to a sacred grove, where he’s clearly gone cuckoo bananas. He’s commanding a corrupted nadaig, which he tells to hold us back - but not kill me. SO we kill the nadaig, and then have a chat with on en mil frichtamen, who confirms that Constantin is trying to gain godhood by murdering god and taking his power. Yanno, as one does. In a cutscene, I list all the people who will totally help me against Constantin. This includes… pretty much everyone, because I’ve diplomatted my way through the game and everyone likes me. Time to go rally armies. 

It’s worth noting at this time that on en mil frichtamen calls me ‘flesh of my earth’ and earliet called me ‘the child that was stolen’ - there’s a very ‘YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE’ vibe here, implying that I’m only able to succeed at this task because I’m native by blood - I’m not REALLY a continental and thus a Tainted Person made of Endless Greed. It is my native-ness and my bond to on en mil frichtamen, passed down from my donegiad parent, that allows me to be the hero of this game. 

I want you, dear reader, to stop and think about the gross racial implications of that.

Moving forward: We go to ask Dunncas for help in how to break Constantin’s links to the land. He gives me seeds to place at the base of the stone Constantin has erected, to topple them. I have to fight a corrupted Nadaig each time. At this interval Siora points out how wise and attuned to en on mil frichtimen Dunncas is, and I express regret at not choosing him to be high king. TOO SUBTLE, GAME.

So yeah, couple of tedious boss fights. 

Having broken his links and gathered my allies, it’s time for the endgame. We go back to the sacred grove where I talked to en on mil frichtimen, I get a series of heartwarming cutscenes with my companions and allies as I ascend to Constantine’s heart stronghold. 

I reach Constantin. I have to fight a big bad ultra nadaig, which Constantin tells not to kill me. 

He has a long cutscene in which he pleads his case, asking me to bond with him and rule together. I can either bond with him and join him in godhood, which is implied to doom all of humanity to eventually succumb to the malichor because no land can ever be healed now, or I can kill him and save the world like a big damned hero. 

Then Mr. deCourcillion narrates the epilogue, where I get to hear about the consequences of all my decisions through the game. My decision to crown Derdre results in forcible decolonization of the island and healing thereof, but the old world nations are plunged into war and the malichor gets worse there. Am I supposed to feel bad? I don’t! 

In the ‘best’ ending, Magical Native Healers travel to the continent and teach the sad tained continentals how to live in harmony with nature and heal their lands. 

Here, have an every possible ending video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcUByGfNXgY

Know what weirds me out as an actual indigenous person? Learning that I’m a stolen child way back in Act 1 never resulted in a quest where I in any way question or explore my real ancestry. I never try to find out what clan my real mother was from or if I have any living relatives. I never look into why the Congregation abducted my mother and why I was raised by Princess De Sardet. The game just feels that this is unimportant. The important thing was that I have Magical Native Blood. 

So yeah. That’s the game.

In studying the fandom presence of this game, roughly no one is interrogating the fuckedness of the premise or narrative. The active fandom seems to be mostly people who want to bang Vasco, people who think Constantin is a sad wooby who deserved better (including a lot of people who chose the ‘bad’ ending because they wub himb) and people who want to bang Constantin and justify it because he and De Sardet aren’t REALLY cousins… and people who are just here for The Aesthetic. Fun fact there are exactly 12 F/F fics on a03 set in this universe.

Here, have some examples, all from https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/GREEDFALL and https://archiveofourown.org/tags/GreedFall%20(Video%20Game)/works

https://destiny-rahl.tumblr.com/post/616743783790460928/constantin-de-sardet-my-beloved-otp-this

https://swiveldiscourse.tumblr.com/post/615782041344147456/not-sure-who-needs-to-hear-this-but-this-game

https://totallyamoral.tumblr.com/post/615651870535532545

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766497/chapters/49345631

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676554/chapters/49106921

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747450

Lots of people compared this game to Dragon Age: Inquisition when it first came out because the gameplay looks similar. But here’s the thing… the first time I finished DA:I, I immediately wanted to turn around and play it again, as a different character, as someone who made different decisions and followed a different romance and brought different companions with me on quests to see their different reactions. 

I do not want that with Greedfall.

My first thought upon fisnishing was ‘Oh thank fuck, I’ve seen this to fruition, I don’t have to play this anymore.’

That is not how I should feel at the end of a game.

I feel tired and broken and hurt and used, much like I felt after reading Sister Raven.

https://moniquill.tumblr.com/post/165881710831/so-today-i-read-a-book-called-sister-raven

 Native-specific sidequests of note: 

In An Aspiring Merchant, you meet a native merchant in New Serene who’s trying to set up shop; because he doesn’t have the correct paperwork and didn’t follow the bureaucratic process, his stuff keeps getting confiscated. I do not have any opportunity to explore why his lack of paperwork gets his stuff repeatedly confiscated, rather than just getting him sent home.

While I’m getting the paperwork for him, his cousin arrives with a shipment of goods. The guards confiscate the goods again, and arrest the cousin. I go to investigate, and find that cousin threw some punches when the guards once again confiscated all of the goods, and was arrested for disorderly conduct. Ok. So I proceed to the jail and find that he has been sent to fight -to the death- in the arena?! When the prison guard says ‘Hey, it wasn’t me, I was just following orders’ I’m not given an opportunity to ask who’s giving the orders or pursue the miscarriage of justice. I head to the Arena. Despite being a Legate, one of the highest governing offices of the colony, I have no option to put a stop to these shenanigans. I can’t just spring him, or pay bail; I am required to fight beside him to secure his freedom. 

Completing this quest opens the Ullan/Vignamri questline.

Ullan wants to trade with Hikmet, Hikmet wants us to secure the roads, we visit another chieftain, he agrees to a meeting, Ullan shows up and shanks him, I shout at Ullan about how that was bad to do, Ullan thanks me for giving him the opportunity. 

In Logging Expedition, I follow up on the quest hook about settlers clear cutting a glade that I got in vigyigidaw. Standoff between the natives and the settlers, natives want to plant trees, settlers won’t let them. Three settler woodcutters died recently - after investigation there was a conspiracy to poison them by an elder in vigyigidaw - my character refers to this as an act of vengeance by a hateful old man. Despite having literally just had it explained to us that it was supposed to be an object lesson in why not to clearcut the forest - the meat would have been fine if it had been prepared with a particular (possibly now extinct?) berry.

So we pop all the way down to the congregation colony to ask Mr. Courcillon how to diplomacy this ‘property disagreement’. He tells us to go to the basement archives and then see Lady Morange. Just from a gameplay perspective, this - like many sidequests - is fucking tedious. Just running from one place to another, grabbing a few lines of dialog in each place, with no player decision or engagement. This is a poorly designed game. So we hash out the contract, which was created back where neither side had any understanding of the other side’s ideas of what land ownership means. Manhattan was bought for 60 guilders worth of glass beads, etc etc.  https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/12657/was-manhattan-really-bought-24

We have to prosecute the old man for murder if we want a new land deal signed. To prosecute the old man, we have to go stop a mining operation. It’s just one thing after another, and all of it boring and tedious. I had to stop in the middle of this questline and put the game down not because it was upsetting, but because it was -boring-. I hope that the readers appreciate the work I’m putting into making a detailed critique of this garbage fire.

[fvckyouimaprophet]

A Place to Belong

Prompt: 100 drabble challenge Number: 81/100 Pairing: Kurtbastian

New York is gray and wet in the winter—Kurt decides. He finds out quickly that snow in the city is much more romantic a concept than a reality as he passes by black, muddied banks of snow and tries to dodge unavoidable puddles of slush when he crosses the street.

“Are you sure your Scrooge act doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Blaine dumped you?” Elliott asks, and Kurt scowls.

It takes two weeks before he’s is able to convince Kurt to go to a bar. "I’m not ready,” he says, but Elliott pushes and prods until he gives in, if nothing for the drinks.

The Bushwick bar Elliott takes him to is emptier than he’s used to. So many people have left the city for the holidays, and the tourists don’t typically venture this far east in Brooklyn. But Kurt is grateful for it.

Halfway through his first drink, Elliott’s gaze moves past him, and when Kurt turns around, he spots a man in a knit turtleneck staring back at Elliott. He snorts and shakes his head. “Go for it.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” Elliott says, though his voice wavers.

“Elliott, I’m fine. One of us deserves to get lucky today.” He narrows his eyes, and when Kurt’s resolve doesn’t crumble, he nods.

“If it turns out you’re lying, and you tell me later that you wanted me to stay, I hope you know that I won’t feel bad.” He downs his drink and stands up. “Last chance.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

By the time he makes his way up to the bar, Elliott is nowhere to be found. He’s walked in on more compromising situations with Elliott than either of them would care to admit, so he decides on one more drink before calling it a night. "A gin fizz please,” he says as he leans across the bar.

“I saw your boyfriend leave with another guy earlier,” the bartender says.

“Not my boyfriend.” He hears the sharp edge to his voice as it comes out, and the bartender lifts both hands in the air.

“Sounds like someone’s having a rough holiday.”

With Burt and Carole in DC for the holidays, the only thing for him in Lima had been Blaine, and Kurt doesn’t want to get into conversations about his ex with a stranger. “Something like that,” he says. He straightens his shoulders and sighs.

“Bad breakup?”

“None of your business.”

The bartender smirks and pours Kurt’s drink. “Your next one’s on the house,” he says as he slides it across the bar. Any feeling of guilt over his attitude evaporates as the bartender continues, “If you tell me the story, that is.”

“Who says there’s a story?” Kurt asks.

“Let’s just say you develop a knack for telling these sorts of things working at a bar. And holiday season is always rough.”

“Telling someone they’re a cliché isn’t the best way to get them to open up.” Kurt takes a sip from his drink. Despite the fact that the bar is unassuming, the drinks are better than average, and Kurt can sense that the bartender knows it as well based by the smug look behind his eyes. “Two drinks, and I’ll tell you.”

The bartender surveys him for a moment, impressed. “Okay.”

“My boyfriend broke up with me over the phone two days after I got a plane ticket to go home and see him,” Kurt says, and the bartender winces.

“Oof. That’s worse than I expected. He sounds like an asshole.” It’s oddly comforting to talk to someone about it without any looks of pity, and Kurt takes another sip of his drink as he takes the bartender in properly.

“Kind of. Long distance wasn’t working out for us for a while, and I didn’t want to accept it. I could sense that he wanted to break up when I moved to New York, but he clearly felt bad. Not too bad to cheat, though.” The last bit slips out before he can stop himself, and Kurt sucks in the inside of his cheek and bites down.

Before the bartender can respond, however, someone else walks up to the other side of the bar. “Give me a minute,” he says, and he walks over to them. Kurt finishes his drink feeling flustered, and for a moment, he considers leaving. But before he can decide, the bartender makes his way back to Kurt. “When’d you move to New York?” he asks as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

“May.”

“Oh wow, you’re still a newbie to the city, then. Why New York?”

He’s certain the bartender means no ill will by calling him a newbie, but the word feels oddly condescending, and Kurt bristles. “Why did you move to New York?” he asks.

“I was done with Paris,” he says with a shrug. Kurt nearly laughs, but the bartender looks oddly unfazed.

“Oh, you’re serious.”

“You’re not the only one with stories to tell.” But he doesn’t expand on it. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Well, like the rest of the city, I want to act. Broadway and whatnot. My boyfriend and I promised each other we’d go to the same college. Only I got into NYU, and we both got into UCLA, so we went to UCLA. Maybe a year and a half after I graduated, I realized that I’d been putting my dreams on hold for too long. So I moved to New York.”

“So you were high school sweethearts?” He looks at Kurt, amused. “You really are having a shitty holiday.” He sets his arms down on the bar and leans over until Kurt is aware of how close they were. “Let me guess your next drink.”

“Aren’t you confident?” Kurt scoffs. “Fine.”

The bartender lingers for a moment, holding Kurt’s gaze. Kurt gets the sense that he’s reading him—perhaps trying to figure something out—but his face remains infuriatingly unrevealing. Kurt does his best to stand his ground and return the favor. Not for the first time, it strikes him that the man standing in front of him is attractive.

Wordlessly, he pulls back and begins to make Kurt’s drink. “Close your eyes,” he says, and Kurt finds himself listening despite his better judgment. He waits until he hears the click of the glass in front of him to open his eyes.

He smells it as soon as he lifts it to take a drink, and Kurt knows. “French gimlet. It’s my favorite drink.” And when he takes a sip, he can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh. The proportions are perfect. “Fuck, you’re good.”

“It’s one of my many talents.”

“What are your others?” Kurt asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” When he raises an eyebrow, Kurt feels his mouth dry out, but a voice from behind them interrupts.

“Pint of Guinness please,” a woman says. She sets cash down on the counter when Sebastian hands her the drink and steps away.

“Grab a bite to eat with me after my shift.” There’s barely a question in his voice.

“When do you get off?” Kurt asks.

“Eleven.” Although he wants to say yes, Kurt hesitates, uncertainty starting to bubble within him. The bartender must sense it because he wets his lips before adding, “I’m going to get in trouble if I just talk to you, but I want to the chance to talk—uninterrupted.” His voice drops for the last word, and Kurt feels heat crawl from his neck to his cheeks.

"I don’t even know your name.” Kurt can hear how light and breathy he sounds.

“Sebastian.”

He pauses for a moment before nodding. “If you try to take me to get dollar pizza, though, I’m leaving.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Sebastian smirks and starts to walk away.

“And it’s Kurt,” he says. He settles into the stool and runs his finger over the rim of his glass as he watches Sebastian take someone else’s order. Perhaps, he decides, winter in New York isn’t that bad after all.

[kurtty-drabbles]

House of M- Redone (part 4)

N/A: This idea came to me in a feverish dream. Ok, thank God I wasn´t with a fever...but the idea came as if I was so...anyway. I have an idea for the villain in this story, thank God again.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @tieflingteeth @muninandhugin @djinmer4

Genosha has rules. Genosha needs rules to function even though, some misguided people seem to relish on the illusion that "if you´re a mutant, you´ve got a free pass to do anything" which the royal family is doing their best to disprove that. King Magneto´s marks still can be felt and sometimes, only sometimes, the royal family has to admire the tenacity of their father. If nothing else.

Rules are needed and no one is above law. Kurt Wagner is one of those people that work to make sure power doesn´t corrupt, at the same time, making sure power doesn´t go impune. The Red Guard has a reason to exist and Kurt has reasons to fear excess of power.

If we ever oppress the oppressed ...how can we ever dare to call us as Red Guard?

Thankfully, right now, is one of those moments where his true nature shines. "Is everyone present?" his golden eyes goes to Bobby Drake, one of Piotr´s victims or almost victims, then goes to Kitty Pryde- too silent and too composed to let anyone read her expressions- and finally to Illyana Rasputin the sister of the culprit.

"I´m waiting for my lawyer" is Yana´s only replies and she´s a reward by Roberto da Costa entering in the main office of the Red Guard´s headquarters spotting an easygoing smile. Then his eyes lock on Yana and both start talking in a different language.

Kurt follows Kitty´s expression and it seems she´s lost as well. Roberto da Costa aka Sunspot is a lawyer and was born and raised in Brazil, therefore, is no wonder he´s speaking in his native language. His golden eyes watch the scene for a moment and land back to Kitty. She too appears to be clueless about what they´re saying.

Bobby Drake, however, seems to not mind this interaction.

"Ok, I´m apart of the situation" Roberto uses a more professional tone. "I´ll represent Yana, Kitty and Bobby" his eyes linger to the Ice mutant for a moment, asking for permission, and said mutant nods solemnly. "In regards to what just happened" and faces Kurt now. No more easy-going smiles.

Kurt can be professional as well. Is his job and his career. " Piotr Rasputin was arrested for attempted murder on Bobby Drake" the ice mutant is not happy about it and shows no inclination of forgiveness. "As well to Kitty Pryde" and Kitty looks too unreliable. He doubts even Kwannon would be able to get through her mind.

Maybe ...she´s from project X after all.

"The victims present charge against the mutant, but, no one here wishes him to spend his entire life in...Rockbell" Kurt concludes and Kitty looks at Yana only nodding softly. A message was sent and Kurt is clueless about it.

"No one here wants that, but, we want justice...so, what´s the alternatives?" Roberto begins with a very pointy inquiry. "The laws of Genosha are too absolute. So as everyone here already vetted out for Rockbell, the only remain options are Expulsion, blocking off their abilities, or SweetBells!" his tone is sharp and focus.

"And I ask you, Red Guard Nightcrawler if we really have any choice here"  Roberto tries again. Kurt sighs and is bound to speak the truth. If we oppress the oppressed ...what´s the point?

"Normally, that would be a choice linked only to the victims and the system, however, it comes to our attention that Piotr Rasputin has done something similar to a man named Pete Wisdom...while he was saved by a nick of time...is still an aggravating" and his golden eyes seem to shine even more in direction to Yana Rasputin. "His options are really trim here...your brother seems to have a severe anger issue and presents to be a problem to everyone around him"

Maybe it was harsh. But, also true.

Kitty rose from her chair in the exact moment Yana, muttering something in Russian, is hiding her face behind her hands. "Is my fault...I should have done something ...when Piotr tried to kill Pete...I was naive and stupid to think he would stop..." she confessed.

And Yana slams her fists on the table hard. Too hard to the point a crack is made. "Shut up, Katya. This is not your fault...if anything, it should be mine...I saw the signs...I saw what he was becoming but...I didn´t do anything" her tone is crestfallen for a moment until her eyes shimmer a hellish hue. "My brother has demons to face and that I can understand more than anyone in this room"

No one spoke against such a claim. Magik has a heavy story.

Roberto looks at Yana and nods. "A compromise can be made. Sent him to the SweetRock and his powers will be blocked until he´s deemed to be better. Justice will be served and everyone will be in agreement" Roberto suggests.

Bobby wants to complain. Bobby wanted to complain but Kitty´s eyes stop him.

"If that happens...your brother will be there for a long while" Kurt warned. The SweetRock doesn´t work like other institutions, Piotr may as well spend his entire life in that place.

"Yes, I know, and considering what he tried to do...that´s too good for him" Yana states. "Can I go see him? Can I show him how much this displease me?" her face twisted into something demonic and Kurt almost back down. Almost.

Kitty is the voice of reason. "Yana, don´t! Anger won´t solve more anger" and again, those two send secret messages and Kurt is curious about their past.

"If Katya says so...you feel safer this way? If you prefer him to be exiled and without powers...I´ll understand" Yana has to say it.

"I did consider this...but, no...SweetRock is a good option" for you, she mentally adds. The conversation is over.

"My client, Yana Rasputin may visit her brother in the facility?"

"Not after 2 months"

"That..." Yana nods at Roberto. "is agreeable"

And the conversation shifts to insurance policies. A mutant going crazy, for whatever reason, and trying to kill you does warrant you some compensation.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Once putting the laws aside, life goes on. Kitty is a teacher and has to continue to do her job. She can´t help feeling bad for Yana (imagine if your brother tried to kill two people in an angry fit!) and won´t lie by saying Piotr deserved worse, however, she wouldn´t dare to inflict more pain in Yana´s life.

Her nose tracks the strong scent of brimstone and turns right to see Nightcrawler again. "Hello?"

Nightcrawler is still with his uniforms. Kitty can look at him up and down and understand why he´s so popular, yet not understand why he´s here of all places.

"I came here to see you...Before the fiasco with Piotr...I wanted to tell you the Juggernaut´s case has been dealt...he won´t cause any trouble ever again" there´s conviction in his tone. Sure, Kitty will be thankful.

Kitty blinks at this and then snaps her fingers. "Oh, yes. I completely forget about this, thanks...I guess."

She...forget?

"And I´m also here to ask you..." and Kurt believes the best defense is a quick attack. "if you´re a subject from the program X"

Kitty is deadpan staring at him. Too pointy and too bemused for his like.

"No, actually I was part of the program WXYZ" and stares at him pointy.

"You´re making fun of me...aren´t you?"

"One of many qualities I learn in the WXZY is subtle" and wink at him.

"So...you´re not from Program X?"

And Kitty chuckles leaving Kurt behind. She needs to laugh. Kurt can pick a new theory.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Wanda Maximoff is one of the most powerful mutants in the world. A fact no one let her forget and also, a fact that often comes with lots of burdens. One of its perks though is how no one would dare to pick a fight with her. Not that Polaris and Quicksilver aren´t powerful, but, the Scarlet Witch is another level.

However, as she stares at the lifeless body of her biological father-Magento and her may share DNA. Django Maximoff is the one who raised her and is her and Pietro´s father for real- Wanda can´t help by biting her bottom lip and let her eyes be as crimson as the moniker Scarlet Witch suggests.

Lorna is the one to break the silence. "So, is really not Wakanda or Atlantis that is after us..."

Pietro looks down at his biological father- Django is his father for real- not daring to touch the body. Not daring to speak ill about the dead either. "...There´s a message here" and is no metaphor.

There´s a small message next to Magneto´s body.

Wanda waits for Pietro to read for them.

"I´m back to return what´s mine"

And Lorna´s eyes wide. "Wait...how many people know about the real history of Genosha?"

"Few people and fewer are still alive...Another case of Dad´s henchmen wanting revenge" Wanda is not happy. "And if they plan on attacking Genosha...it means they´re tired of living" is her final words as she uses her magic to change the coffin in something more proper to Magneto. "We have a funeral to do. Our Jewish father deserves this much"

[uthummel]

round 3 || self-para

- WHO: Kurt Hummel and his doctor

- WHEN: 11:00AM, July 20th, 2020

- WHERE: University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center

- WHAT: Kurt is given the results of his blood work. 

- WARNINGS: Discussion of medical testing, cancer, illness, and hospitals

These sorts of appointments had long since become routine for Kurt. He got tests run, he went in, they gave him results, and he went home. There was still the looming ‘what if’ that accompanied the journey to the hospital every trip, but most of the time it was just a discussion of his levels looking good. Of course, he’d also been in the situation previously of being told that he was no longer in remission, so it still felt like playing russian roulette with his white blood cell count. 

It was a fear that Kurt knew he’d spiral into daily if he let it: checking his lymph nodes, poking at his abdomen to somehow sense if his spleen was enlarged or if his liver was struggling. It was easier to just assume the status quo and deal with the worst if it came. That’s part of why it was so nice to have this France trip just before. He couldn’t worry about his blood work when he was galavanting around Nice and Paris with his boyfriend. 

Eventually, though, the fairy tale had to end and Kurt was back in Texas and then driving himself to Austin. 

He played his showtune medley loudly as he made his way down from Amarillo. It was going to be a long drive, but maybe that was a good thing. 

He made it to Austin by late on Sunday evening and got himself checked into a hotel. He thought about trying to text some people he knew were still in the city, but decided maybe that would be better saved for Monday night when he wasn’t feeling slightly anxious. He ordered delivery of some junk food and decided curling up with a movie and texting friends was the best option. 

The morning came quickly and he made sure to be perfectly on time for the appointment. A nurse eventually led him back to his doctor’s clinic room, where he waited with anxiety building. 

His doctor finally came in and Kurt tried to read on his face any indication of what was going to be said. Either things were looking good and they’d be discussing further maintenance. Or they weren’t. And it would mean any number of possibilities. He’d rather stick with what he knew. 

They exchanged pleasantries for a moment before the doctor pulled up some lab results on the screen. 

“Alright, Kurt. So, as you know, we ran your typical labs for this follow-up appointments. We, unfortunately...” At that word, Kurt felt his chest get tighter. “-are seeing some abnormalities. Your white blood cell count is quite high. Specifically, your lymphocyte count is well above the 10,000 per cubic millimeter threshold.” 

Kurt knew what that meant. Another relapse. It didn’t tell him anything of certainty but it definitely wasn’t a good sign. 

“I know you’ve been here before, Kurt. So I know you know that I can’t tell you anything for certain right now. I’m going to put in for you to have more blood taken, bone marrow tests done, and a CT scan. We know that last time we found cancer cells in your spleen and I want to make sure we stay ahead of that this time. You haven’t had a lot of symptoms, from our conversation a couple weeks ago, so that’s a good sign,” he explained. Kurt’s face stayed mostly unreadable.

“I was going to go home...How long should I plan to stay?” 

“I’ll have you schedule the testing before you leave today. And an appointment with me on Friday so we can discuss treatment options. If things are looking okay, we may not have to start anything right away. It’s really going to depend on results.” 

Kurt nodded. It was hard not to get frustrated even though he knew there weren’t any answers right now. He couldn’t catch a break. Was this some sort of karmic balancing act for the amazing year he’d had so far? 

He shook the thought away. It was neither productive nor helpful to throw himself a pity party right now. 

He wrapped up the discussion with the doctor, though there really wasn’t much that could be said at this point. He was in relapse, yes, but without the testing they wouldn’t know if there was a new mutation, what stage he was in, if it had spread, or even just the specifics of the cancer cells he had that would dictate the kinds of treatments they would try. 

Try was another operative word. Nothing was ever guaranteed to work - that was another thing that was always made clear to him, as nice as his doctors always were.

He scheduled the testing he needed to, feeling more numb than anything else has he stepped back out into the heat. 

He’d been hoping to leave with less anxiety but  now he just had a pile of unanswered questions and the anticipation of being poked and prodded for the next few days. 

And he was entirely alone in Austin. 

He felt his phone buzz and saw it was a text from his dad. ‘And?’ 

The last thing he wanted to do was tell his dad. 

[poetzproblem]

Have You Ever Really? Part III

A/N: Part III by request. There may also now be a part IV.  Under the cut, or read at FF.Net or AO3.

They don't win Nationals.

They don't even place after Finn Hudson's monumentally stupid attempt to kiss Rachel on stage at the end of their ill-advised duet. Rachel hadn't reacted quite quickly enough to dodge it completely, which had only made her effort to duck away from his unwanted attention even more obvious to the judges.

Santana had nearly ripped Finn apart as soon as they'd gotten off stage, and Quinn suspects her anger and disgust wasn't entirely on her own behalf. She's seemed oddly less antagonistic to Rachel ever since Rachel had come out to them—or maybe it's not odd at all. Maybe Santana actually feels an unexpected kinship with Rachel now over their mutual attraction to the ladies (even if Santana still isn't outright admitting what everyone already knows). Or maybe she just feels sorry for Rachel for nursing a hopelessly unrequited crush on Quinn.

Quinn wonders what Santana would think if she knew that Rachel's crush wasn't as hopeless as everyone believes.

All that Quinn knows for certain is that she hasn't been able to stop thinking about Rachel since she'd serenaded her in glee, and she'd grown more and more impatient and irritated every time that Rachel had scurried away from her in the hallways or sat across the room from her in their shared classes or suddenly decided that she absolutely had to hang all over Jesse St. James everytime that Quinn tried to approach her in glee. So, of course, Quinn had needed to make it clear to Rachel that she expects her to stop acting like a frightened little mouse and start acting like—well, like Rachel fucking Berry. Really? If Rachel has a thing for Quinn, then Quinn should get the same treatment as the boys in the form of thoughtful gifts left in her locker and weird couple's calendars and loud, dramatic (and often musical) declarations of Rachel's undying affection and loyalty.

What Quinn does get immediately following the kiss that missed, surreptitiously tucked into her duffle bag in their shared hotel room, is a foil-wrapped Hershey's kiss (undoubtedly from the craft services table that had been set up for the competing show choirs) taped to a handwritten note that says, 'I'm sorry. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss.'

Quinn feels a rush of warmth spread from her chest all the way up to the tips of her ears, and her eyes dart around the room in search of Rachel, only to be disappointed that she hasn't made her way back yet. Well, Quinn supposes that she'd actually beaten them all here before slipping away again to sulk in private over their loss. She doesn't see Kurt anywhere either, and he's been crashing in the girl's room with them.

Quinn gazes down at the note again, palming the candy kiss and catching her lip between her teeth to contain her grin—a grin that instantly disappears when Santana drops onto the mattress in front of her with a frown.

"That better not be some pathetic love note from Finnvasive." Quinn tucks it protectively against her chest. Santana's eyes narrow on the motion, but she doesn't make a grab for it. "It'd be just his style to come crawling back to you now that Berry dodged his slobbery advances in front of a thousand witnesses."

"I don't think there were that many people there today," Mercedes muses, rummaging around in her own suitcase for something or other.

"Enough for a well deserved public humiliation," Santana scoffs, crossing her arms. "If I was Berry, I'd've slapped him for trying that shit."

"Rachel is a professional," Tina chimes in with a dreamy, little smile. "I think she handled it the best way she could under the circumstances."

"You would," Quinn mutters under her breath, sending a glare her way.

"What was that, Quinnie?" Santana needles. "Why don't you share with the class?"

Quinn turns her glare on Santana. "Finn is an ass," is all she bothers to say.

Santana snickers. "True 'dat."

"He totally didn't pay attention to his cues," Brittany adds, throwing herself across the bed beside Santana. "Rachel's all about the sweet lady kisses now." She smiles at Santana, who blushes tellingly before glancing away.

"Which is still all kinds of weird, if you ask me," Mercedes says, shaking her head.

"No one did," Santana snaps.

Mercedes holds up her hands defensively. "Hey, I just mean that she's been moonin' over Finn for two years and all of a sudden she's singin' a love song to," she trails off with an embarrassed look towards Quinn. They all know who Rachel was singing to, but it's a truth that no one but Santana has been brave enough to say out loud in Quinn's presence.

"I'm surprised you're handling that so well," Santana muses with a smirk.

Quinn shrugs, mentally putting on her cool indifference like the mask it is. "It's hardly her fault that I'm irresistible."

Santana barks out a laugh. "You wish, Blondie."

"I'm sure Rachel will find someone else to focus her attention on soon enough," Tina offers with what Quinn supposes is meant to be a reassuring smile—it looks fake to Quinn.

"I guess you'd better make sure it isn't Mike," she warns Tina cattily.

Tina's brows furrow in confusion, but whatever she might have said is lost to the awkward silence that descends on the room when Rachel and Kurt step inside.

"What did we miss?" Kurt asks suspiciously after no one says anything for a solid thirty seconds.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Just our pity party for coming in twelfth."

Rachel whimpers, shrinking into herself. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her eyes cast down to the floor as Kurt wraps an arm around her and gives her a comforting squeeze.

Tina reaches out to touch Rachel's arm with a sympathetic smile. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was Finn's," Quinn grits out, scowling at Tina.

"Don't sweat it, midget," Santana dismisses with a bored wave of her hand. Rachel glances at her in surprise before gazing around the room, as if to make sure no one else is actually blaming her for this. When her eyes finally settle on Quinn, Quinn offers her a meaningful smile, subtly motioning to the note still cradled against her torso. Rachel's eyes dart down and then back up, and Quinn knows she's gotten the message by the shy smile on her face.

They don't talk about it. They can't. They don't really have a moment where they can be alone for the rest of the night or the next morning when they're all rushing for the airport and then stuck together on a long bus ride of listening to Santana take shots at Finn while Finn constantly whines about it and Mr. Schuester yells at them all to remember they're a team.

And then Quinn is being whisked home by her mother, and even if she is entertaining the notion of letting Rachel Berry woo her, she's so not letting her mother clue into anything that's going on in her head right now.

But it becomes very clear on Monday morning that Rachel has taken Quinn's encouragement and run with it. There's a gardenia with a green ribbon tied into a bow waiting for Quinn inside her locker, which is just more proof that Rachel had been the one responsible for Quinn's prom corsage.

A fact that's confirmed when Quinn tracks down Rachel in the bathroom to ask her about the flower. 

"I wanted you to have a perfect night," she admits, picking nervously at the strap of her bag.

Quinn smiles, charmed by the admission. "Because you...like me?"

Rachel swallows nervously, nods once. "And because Finn didn't seem to be very enthusiastic about something that was obviously important to you."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I don't want to talk about him. I want to know how long you've liked me." Because this whole thing has seemed a little sudden and out of the blue. Mercedes hadn't been wrong about that.

Rachel catches her lower lip between her teeth and shrugs, looking mildly perplexed. "I'm not entirely sure. I think it's been happening for a while, but I failed to take note of it until…" Her cheeks turn a little pink. "Well, until I just did."

Quinn shakes her head, a bit perplexed herself. "I don't understand how you could. I've generally been awful to you." She'd slapped her at prom, for God's sake. "Unless...I mean, I get it if it's just a physical thing." It wouldn't be the first time Quinn had been the object of someone's dirty fantasies and it won't be the last. She's hot and she knows it. It's only natural for people who like girls to desire her. And yet the thought of that being all this is for Rachel bothers her more than she can put into words.

"That's not it," Rachel quickly denies, frowning adorably—as if she's angry at Quinn for even suggesting it. "I mean, it's obviously a factor. You're impossibly beautiful." And she blushes again, turning positively red. "But…" She runs her tongue across her lips (and why is Quinn only just noticing how often she does that and how sexy it is?) and takes a breath while she composes her thoughts. "When I told you that you're a lot more than that, I meant it, Quinn. You're smart and resilient and so much kinder than you give yourself credit for. Every time you've let me catch a small glimpse of the person you really are, I've only wanted to know more." She glances down to the floor, looking suddenly shy again. "I want to know you. To know who you are and what you're thinking. And I'm honestly not sure if I've ever cared enough to really know that about anyone else."

Quinn nearly loses her breath at that. "Not even Finn?"

Rachel huffs out a silent laugh. "I thought I did at one point, obviously, but the discovery of who Finn Hudson really is left something to be desired." She shrugs a little sadly. "I'm afraid there was only so much interest I could muster for video games and football."

Quinn bites back her smile. "How do you know the same thing won't happen with me?"

"I don't," Rachel concedes. "But I've seen the books you read for pleasure, so I suspect that you're going to keep me interested in knowing more about you for quite some time."

"More than just what it's like to kiss me?" Quinn husks, stepping closer.

Rachel's eyes widen, and she inhales sharply through her nose. "Did Finn tell you?"

Quinn frowns in confusion. "Tell me what?"

"That I asked him…" She cuts herself off, realization sparking in her eyes. "You were referring to the note, weren't you?"

Quinn's confusion disappears, and she grins ferally. Because she is smart, and she knows exactly what Rachel was about to say. "Did you ask Finn what it was like to kiss me?"

Rachel doesn't answer, but her blush does. "Why are you being so open to this? You should be telling me to stay away from you."

She probably should be, but she isn't going to. "I guess that's just one of those things you're going to have to discover about me." Quinn steps away from Rachel, shouldering her own bag before sending Rachel a wink. "Maybe you'll even get a first hand answer to that other question of yours. If you're up for it."

She leaves Rachel sputtering as she saunters out of the bathroom with an extra sway in her hips and a grin on her lips. It's the best she's felt about herself in a very long time, and if she's being honest, she thinks she's probably been mostly wooed by Rachel already. It hadn't taken much more than that little speech of hers. But Quinn isn't about to pass up the chance to be treated to more of the same.

It's really no surprise to anyone that Rachel once again has a song prepared for glee.

"Just a little something to lift our spirits after our disappointment," she explains, but there's a twinkle in her eyes when they seek out Quinn that Quinn fully understands the moment she begins to sing.

"Well you done done me and you bet I felt it I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks And now I'm trying to get back."

Quinn barely stifles her giggle at Rachel's song choice. It's not exactly a standard love song, but the message is still pretty clear, especially when she's so obviously singing to Quinn.

"Before the cool done run out I'll be giving it my best-est, And nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention. I reckon it's again my turn To win some or learn some. But I won't hesitate no more, no more. It cannot wait. I'm yours."

Rachel's dark eyes are on Quinn while she makes her musical declaration, but then Rachel is grinning and dancing around the rest of the room for the second verse, doing a fair job of pretending this is for the entire glee club. Quinn knows better, and when she glances around the room, she sees all their friends smiling and enjoying the performance.

But at the end, Rachel's eyes come right back to Quinn for her very last—

"This, oh this, this is our fate. I'm yours."

Quinn thinks she's pretty okay with that.

And Tina can suck it.

[freddiesaysalright]

Catching Up Part XI

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.  

Word Count: 2.9 K

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam, @grandaddy-roger-trash, @rogerloveshiscar, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @danamaleksworld, @mrsmazzello, @reedusteinrambles, @rexorangecouny, @caborhapch, @kurt-nightcrawler, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @queendeakyy, @hotttspace, @anxious-diabetic, @someone-get-a-medic, @psychosupernatural, @lizvxx, @cobra-anon, @anotherhystericalqueen The story’s almost over, but it’s not too late to be added to the tag list! Let me know!

A/N: This chapter is super fluffy. But, once again, setting some important stuff. Little Joey is arriving soon! Also, special appearances from Bri and Rog in this one :)

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V   Part VI Part VII  Part VIII  Part IX  Part X

Part XI here we go!!!

You were free of Nick, but you could not force yourself out of your anxiety about cameras. You were doing so much better now. You were at a point where Joe - but only Joe - could take your photo. After you got your closure with Nick, you allowed him to post one of you onto his Instagram. It made you nervous, and you wondered if people might discover your old shame, but you pushed that all away. Joe posted a photo of you, holding your little bump right after he’d made you laugh. It was a great shot.

That was something that helped. When Joe made you laugh, you were immediately relaxed, almost unaware that he was taking a picture at all. He knew just how to make you comfortable enough to get an amazing one of you. Even you couldn’t deny they looked good.

His captions melted your heart as well. The first photo he put up that included your face read: “This is my beautiful girlfriend. She’s amazingly brave, talented, and smart. She’s also giving me the greatest joy of my life. Y/N, I love you. I can’t wait to see our son grow up guided by the greatest mother in the world.” It got you choked up.

Everything would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for your pregnancy making you feel sick and tired all the time. Your headaches were pretty intense, and you still had nausea. You also had swelling around your ankles that you were positive couldn’t be normal. You had a doctor’s appointment before you would leave for Los Angeles, and you made a note to tell Dr. Barrow your concerns. Joe wouldn’t be going with you because he’d be in London for the UK premiere of BoRhap. You promised to send him a picture, though.

You weren’t sure you liked Dr. Barrow much. When you told him about what you were going through, he insisted it was normal pregnancy stuff. He seemed a bit uninterested and overwhelmed by the fact that he also had Dr. Jones’s patients. You felt completely dismissed and unheard.

“Dr. Barrow,” you said. “I don’t think you understand. These headaches are splitting -”

“They’re always ‘splitting’ to you ladies, aren’t they?” he returned with a tired wave of his hand. “I assure you, what you’re going through is normal.”

You frowned. “And it’s still okay for me to drive all the way to LA?”

He nodded. “Of course. As long as you get plenty of rest and continue to take your prenatal vitamins, you and your baby will be fine.”

You felt a little uneasy about him, but took his word that you’d be fine. That afternoon, when you told Joe about it over FaceTime, he seemed concerned, but unsure how to handle it.

“I guess we have to trust him,” he said. “He’s the professional.”

You shrugged. “I suppose so. Hey, do you want to see the picture?”

“Of course!”

You held up the sonogram. “Behold, my love, your child.”

He chuckled. “Aw, he’s amazing! I miss you two.”

“We miss you too,” you replied. “But I’m sure you’re having loads of fun in London.”

He began excitedly telling you what he and  the guys had been up to. You smiled and listened carefully, laughing a few times. Your hand rested limply on your baby bump, phone dangling from the pop socket. All of a sudden, Joey gave a mighty kick, knocking your phone right out of your hand and it slid onto the bed.

“Joey!” you gasped, poking him gently. “That was rude!”

“Baby?” Joe’s voice came from somewhere in the covers. “What just happened?”

You picked up your phone and held it properly. “Your son just kicked the phone out of my hand.”

He laughed. “Wow, he’s a strong boy.”

“This is hardly congratulatory behavior,” you returned.

“Is he still moving?” he asked. “I wanna see.”

You lowered phone to your protruding belly, and focused the camera so he could see Joey’s little feet popping up. Joe gasped.

“It only gets more awesome every time I see it!” he said.

“Do you miss your daddy, Joey?” you cooed to your belly. “I miss him too.”

“I’ll be home soon,” he said as you brought the phone up to your face again. “Just one more day and then I’ll be on a plane.”

Shortly after, you said goodnight and tried to get some sleep. It felt awfully lonely in the house by yourself, but you took comfort in the fact that Joe would be home soon. Then you would start your first family road trip.

You followed the premiere coverage from your desk at work. Several people were watching, since you worked in entertainment. Emily sat with you, shaking her head in amazement.

“I can’t believe you’re going to the one in LA,” she said. “It looks so glamorous.”

“Or terrifying,” you said with a gulp.

You could see all the cameras and flashing lights as Joe and the rest walked down the carpet and into the theater. Your heart gave a nervous flutter.

“Oh, Joe’s talking,” she said. “Turn it up.”

You did so and you caught that the reporter was asking about you and the baby.

“Yeah, Y/N is doing great and so is the baby,” he said, beaming. “I’m so excited, I feel like I have so many blessings right now. Between this film and having a family, I just...I can hardly believe I’m so lucky.”

“How did you meet Y/N?” the reporter asked.

“We actually knew each other as kids!” Joe told her. “Fourth grade. We were friends and then she moved away, but we found each other again through work.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” the reporter said.

“Right?” Joe agreed. “Where’s our Hallmark movie?”

She laughed. “So, are you two hearing wedding bells?”

“We’ve talked about it, and we know we want to commit to each other,” he said. “No plans to bite that bullet just yet though. We’re focused on getting the baby here.”

“That’s a good thing to focus on,” she said. “Thanks for talking with us, Joe. And congratulations!”

“Thank you!” he returned and walked over to the next camera.

Emily sighed. “The way he talks about you is so sweet. I mean, his eyes just light right up. That must be so nice.”

You smiled. “It’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.”

Forty-eight hours went by, and before you knew it, you and Joe were on the road, heading west to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be able to stop and sight see because you were on a tight schedule to make it there in time for the premiere. Even so, Joe made it fun. He told you a bit about LA, since you’d never been before. Nervous as you were about the premiere, you were excited to be there with Joe.

The night of the premiere came. You and Joe were staying with Rami and Lucy. You honestly considered pretending to be ill to get out of it. You were so nervous, your body shook. Lucy had to help you into your dress and do your hair because you were just unable.

“Y/N, if you can’t do this, you don’t have to go,” Lucy said gently as she laid a curl across your shoulder. “Joe will understand.”

“No, I promised him I would,” you insisted. “Besides, like Joe always tells me, I can do anything.”

She smiled. “You two are adorable.”

“How do you do this, Lucy?” you asked. “What a good trick to keep in mind?”

“Focus on one thing at a time instead of the big picture,” she advised. “That way it doesn’t seem like so much. Stick close to Joe, and you’ll be alright.”

You nodded.

When you met Joe and Rami downstairs, they both gaped at the two of you.

“You look wonderful,” Rami said to his girlfriend. “You both do.”

“Lucy looks wonderful,” you returned playfully. “I look like a planet.”

“Hey, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” Joe said, feigning offense.

You all chuckled.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said seriously, kissing you on the cheek. “I love you.”

The four of you headed out to the awaiting limo to take you to the theater and the premiere. You felt so on edge that even a bump in the road made you grip Joe’s hand tighter. You hadn’t gotten to try having other people take photos and videos of you, and you were unsure if you could handle it.

“Fuck, I wish I could drink,” you said under your breath.

Joe laughed. “I wish you could too. I’m pretty sure you’re breaking my fingers.”

“Imagine what it’ll be like during childbirth,” Rami joked.

“Oh please, childbirth isn’t nearly as bad as they make it out to be in movies,” you said.

“You’re not scared, Y/N?” Lucy wondered.

You looked at her and shrugged. “Not really, no. My body is made to do it. And with an epidural, I won’t feel much besides pressure.”

She looked impressed. You gave Joe’s hand another nervous squeeze.

“I’m gonna check your pulse,” he said. “You still have feeling in your fingers?”

You nodded. “So far.”

“That’s good,” he said gently. He pressed his fingers to your neck. “Definitely got a quick pulse, but you’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“I hope you’re not speaking too soon,” you muttered.

“I’m not,” he told you. “We’ve arrived.”

The car came to a stop. You sucked in a breath and looked wildly at him.

“You guys go,” he said to Rami and Lucy. “We’re right behind you.”

They shuffled out of the car. Joe took your face in his hands and held your gaze fiercely.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said. “Everyone here loves you. You got this. Stay with me.”

You nodded. He placed a swift peck on your lips. He moved so he could exit the car first. When he opened the door, you gulped. He stepped out, and you briefly considered telling the driver to go and take you with him. But you would not abandon Joe. Carefully, you scooted to the door, sticking one foot out and letting it hit the carpet. You reached out your hand, and Joe’s found it. You held your swollen belly and Joe practically lifted you out of the car.

The roar was deafening. The cameras clicked, reporters shouted questions, and music blasted from somewhere else. You held Joe’s arm and took a deep breath. The car pulled away as you stepped forward and you were forced to resign yourself to it.

You glanced at the cameras and felt your stomach drop. Joe’s arm secured you around your waist and you met his eyes.

“Stay with me,” he said again, and kissed your temple.

You let him lead you down the carpet closer to the cameras. Joe walked up to the first reporter, who was from the LA office of Everything Entertainment. You beamed at his consideration. He thought that if you knew the company you were talking to, you might feel more comfortable.

“We’ve been dying to see your beautiful baby mama up close, Joe,” the reporter said before grinning at you. “You look stunning.”

“Th-thank you,” you managed.

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“Just over six months,” you replied.

“Really?” she gasped. “You seriously look great to be six months pregnant. When’s the due date?”

“February 20th,” Joe answered.

“You guys excited?”

“We’re positively giddy,” he said.

The next few interviews went similarly. You found yourself relaxing more and more each minute. Everyone told you how great you looked, and you let yourself believe them. The security of having Joe beside you made you feel at home. Then, you saw two people who made your heart skip a beat: Brian May and Roger Taylor. You slapped Joe’s arm with excitement.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, nodding your head toward them.

“Oh, yeah, let’s go say hi,” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you over.

They were talking to the rest of the cast already so you were grateful you could blend in. Joe clearly wasn’t letting that happen.

“Bri, Rog,” he said. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My wonderful girlfriend who is having my baby.”

They both shook your hand and smiled kindly at you. You opened your mouth to say hello, but at that moment, little Joey kicked out once more. You gasped and clutched it.

“You alright?” Joe asked.

“He’s kicking,” you returned. “I guess he wants to say hello too. You guys wanna feel?”

They both agreed and placed their hands softly on your belly. You could hardly believe the founding members of Queen were gushing over your baby bump. They also told you you looked beautiful.

“A little boy, yeah?” asked Roger

You nodded. “Little Joey!”

“Very sweet,” said Brian. “Congratulations, to both of you.”

He hugged you and kissed your cheeks. Roger followed suit. Now you really thought you might faint.

Ben came bounding over to you suddenly. He embraced Roger first, then Brian, and then he practically tackled Joe, kissing his neck. Joe laughed, clapping Ben on the back as they swayed together for a moment.

“I missed you, mate,” Ben said.

“It’s been like five days,” Joe returned. “But that is five days too long, huh?”

Ben nodded and then came over to you. He grinned and rubbed your belly as he hugged you.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said.

“Hi, Ben,” you returned.

“You feeling alright?” he wondered.

You smiled and nodded. Gwilym came over next and greeted you just as warmly, though without nearly knocking Joe off his feet. He also kissed your cheek.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said. “You look so lovely. How’s the baby?”

“He’s fantastic,” you said. “Thank you for asking.”

Allen approached next, extending his hand politely before introducing himself. “It’s great to finally meet you in person!”

“You too!” you agreed.

When Rami and Lucy joined, the photographers started yelling, desperate for a shot of everyone together with Brian and Roger. You started to back out of the frame, but Joe and Ben each took one of your arms and forced you back in. You giggled and accepted it. You truly didn’t think this night could get any better.

The movie was fantastic. You were a sobbing mess by the end of it, because they told the story well, and you were so incredibly proud of these people who had become your friends. You felt it was a great success.

The afterparty was also so fun. Originally, you had planned to go back to Rami and Lucy’s, but Joe insisted on going to the afterparty. He said it was going to be great and you needed to be there. Rolling your eyes, you indulged him, but you really did end up having a great time. They got Queen karaoke going, and Joe was perhaps the most enthusiastic of everyone.

“If I could have everyone’s attention for a second,” Joe said, when  the party was in full swing. “I have a little dedication I’d like to make to my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N. This song is called Misfire and it’s written by John Deacon.”

Everyone laughed, including you, but the music didn’t start.

“I’m kidding,” he said. “I’m not singing Misfire. But, Y/N, if you could join me up here.”

Rami helped you to your feet and onto the stage. Your heart was beating wildly as you felt the room of eyes on you. You turned to Joe, holding his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said, and you saw tears begin to form in his brown eyes. “This is a really special night, for a few reasons. First is the release of our wonderful film, Bohemian Rhapsody. Second is...well...I love you so much. More than I ever thought I could love a person. And you’re giving me something that I can never even hope to repay you for. Our son.”

“Joe…” you sighed, choking up.

“Hold on, I’m not finished,” he said. “I knew from the minute I met you - back in fourth grade - that no matter what happened, we’d be together. It was just a physical law of the universe. The years and geography kept us apart, but we’ve certainly done a lot of catching up since then.” The crowd chuckled. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”

He sank to one knee and your heart leapt to your throat. He pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out to you as you - and everyone else - gasped. The ring was beautiful. The stone was not a diamond, but a pearl. It was unique, like you and Joe, and your story.

“Y/N,” he began again. “Will you marry me?”

You could barely form words. Your brain buzzed with elation. Slowly, you nodded, tears falling from your eyes.

“Yes!” you finally choked out and he slipped the ring on your finger. “Oh my God, Joe, yes!”

He leapt to his feet and pulled you in for the kiss of a lifetime. This kiss was the seal of your promise to each other. The people around you erupted into applause. Ben whistled loudly. You and Joe came down the steps together, immediately getting hugs and kisses from your friends. But nothing else mattered when you locked eyes with Joe again. He was it for you. Your whole future. Your whole heart. Everything was just you and Joe.