#oh we got more money? great let's throw in another lesbian

[emotinalsupportturtle]

neil gaiman and RTD are absolute legends for being the showrunners of 2 mainstream shows funded by large production companies in the year 2023, and proceeding to make the most queer positive episodes ever seen by man

meanwhile david tennant is just vibrating with joy because he gets more opportunities to wear his one-thousand-and-twenty-four pride pins

[andmyvape]

"Please tell me you're not wearing that."

Elayn looked down, then back up with a wide grin. She tugged at her bright rainbow suspenders with her thumbs. "What, not tacky enough?"

Serana gave the ensemble another slow scan. "No, it's… definitely tacky. The combat boots with the khaki shorts is a nice touch."

The grin got wider as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. "They're going to be throwing candy, and I wasn't anywhere near prepared enough last time."

Serana rolled her eyes, but softened it with a smile. "You're ridiculous."

"Isn't that why we're dating?" her girlfriend asked as they headed out the door.

She took a moment to lock up while Serana laughed. "'Careless Whisper' on a boom box outside my window. I can't believe my dad didn't kill you. I know you stole that, by the way. We both went to see that movie when it came out."

"They marketed it as a romcom!" Elayn protested.

They were in the car now. It would be a trick to find parking, but they were running early thanks to Serana's habit of scheduling everything. Elayn was more the type to go with the flow, but living together had her adapted enough that the flow she went with was largely dictated by Serana's schedule. As a research chemist, she worked interesting hours at times, but Elayn was a good roommate, she cooked and cleaned, mostly because she had the time. Lacrosse wasn't a well paying sport compared to something like soccer, but the off seasons gave her plenty of time to maintain their loft. 

"Five dollars an hour?" Elayn griped as the machine printed out their ticket. 

"Homophobia strikes again," Serana said with mock solemnity. 

She snorted and wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's waste. "Which park did you say this thing started in again?" 

It was a little place surrounded by tall buildings, but it was a green patch in a city largely made out of grey. It being Pride Month, the grey was broken up by rainbows. The two wandered around as they waited for the parade to start. 

Well, at least, they started to wander when Elayn caught sight of a dog and all but dragged her girlfriend over to say hi. 

"What's his name?" she asked, so full of enthusiasm she practically floated. "Can I pet him?" 

The dog's owner, someone with a short haircut in a crop top that was orange, yellow, and white striped, nodded. "If he lets you. Sometimes he's not so-- oh gosh," they said, eyes wide as they watched Elayn kneel down and offer a hand to sniff that was immediately accepted. "You must have good vibes." 

"She's a dog person," Serana said with a laugh as the dog put its front paws on Elayn's shoulders so he could lick her face. 

"What's his name?" she asked through slobbery kisses. 

The butch grinned. "That's Duke, I'm Cas. It's nice to meet you!" 

The two introduced themselves just in time for a volunteer to come up with bottles of water. "Our city got voted best water in the state," she said cheerfully. "Take a few, it's gonna be a hot one." 

Before the march, there were speeches. The first was an introduction to the city's first pride parade since the 80s. The second was from a drag queen inviting everyone to the show later that night. Finally, the speeches were closed by an Episcopalian pastor trying to make up for the rest of Christianity's sins. 

"It's starting!" Elayn said excitedly when the crowd started to funnel out of the park. 

The march went down the sidewalk for a few blocks. Traffic was halted and the waiting cars honked while passengers waved. Elayn waved a lesbian flag, Serana had a bi flag, and the two of them dragged a rainbow striped cooler. 

"Mom! Mom!" Elayn heard behind her. "Look, it's two cicadas going at it!" 

She glanced behind her. There was a set of twins, about twelve years old, one of them draped in a trans flag and holding the cicadas that were indeed trying to reproduce. Elayn snorted and hit herself in the face trying to keep a laugh contained. "You like bugs, huh?" 

The girl in the trans flag beamed. "They're my favorite! Well, except for tarantulas, but Mom won't let me have one." 

"The rabbit gets out of its cage enough." The way the girl's mom said it, this was an age old argument. "I don't want to squash it when it ends up in my shoe."

"I had a snake when I was growing up," Serana chimed in. "A corn snake that never got out." 

The twins turned out to be part of a family unit. One twin was trans, and their older brother was too, and as Elayn found soon, was very excited to start HRT. "Get a Gc2b binder," she said. "When I'm feeling like a flat day, it works really well." 

The boy, a younger fourteen, practically floated with excitement. "I will!" 

Serana chatted with the parents while Elayn occupied the kids. "Have you folks been to Pride before?" 

Their mom, a woman named Chelsea, shook her head. "Nope, both kids came out last September and they've been talking about the festival ever since." 

"You seem like really supportive parents," Serana said. It carried the weight of one speaking who has not had contact with their parents since high school. 

Chelsea could tell, and she opened her arms for a hug that Serana was more than happy to accept. 

The march was only about a mile long, and it ended in another park. Elayn craned her neck and said, "I think I see the beer line, wait here?" 

"We will!" said the girl, who was very proud to be named Luna now. 

Serana and Chelsea shared a grin. "I guess we'll wait here," the mom said. 

It was a bit of a line, which was probably not a good thing, but apparently people were restricted on how many drinks they could buy, so at least there was that. While Elayn waited, she was joined by two people wearing pronoun pins that said "she/her". 

Elayn's jaw dropped at the sight of one of the girls' dress, which was a flowing, fae like ensemble. "Holy shit!" she said. "You look amazing!" 

She blushed and ducked her head as she smiled. "Thank you, I got it from Amazon." 

"It's her first Pride," her friend added.

That just amazed Elayn more. "With the sparkles and the green eyeshadow, I wouldn't have guessed. Everything you've got going on is just amazing."

"Thank you!" she squeaked. 

Elayn wasn't alone in thinking the dress was gorgeous. Another person came up to compliment it, and they had such dope tattoos that Elayn could not help but comment. 

"The guy that did them is great," they gushed. "He does blacklight work too!" 

So she got a website saved on her phone for the next time she really wanted to get a tattoo on top of the three she already had; scrollwork on her bicep, a wolf on her shoulder blade, and a small date on her wrist that was the day she met Serana. 

When she got back to her girlfriend and the others, an IPA in hand that was frankly piss, she told them about the girl in the fae dress. 

"I saw her!" Serana exclaimed. 

"Amazon." 

"No way." 

Next was food, especially if she was going to drink a beer. Assuming she actually drank it. "There's some food trucks," she pointed out. "I could go for a corndog." 

"I'm going to get some mac and cheese," Serana said. 

"Mom! Mom!" Luna's twin brother, Ian, tugged at his mom's sleeve. "Can we get pretzels?" 

Chelsea sighed good-naturedly. "I suppose. Do you two want to meet up after?" 

"Over by the stage?" Elayn suggested. 

The group separated. She found the line for corndogs and funnel cake. While she was waiting, the woman ahead of her glanced her way, so Elayn said, "Howdy!" 

"Hey there, hun!" She clapped her on the shoulder. "Having a good time?" 

"I am," she said with a grin. "Everyone here is so nice. There were some moms back there handing out hugs!" 

"Well, I'm a mom, would you like a hug?" 

"I would love that." 

It was a lovely hug, the woman was warm and smelled floral. When they separated, she said, "I'm Elayn! It's good to meet you. Can I get you a corndog?" 

As she pulled out her wallet, the woman waved her money away. "It's Nessa, and actually, I'd like to buy you a corndog." 

"You don't have to--" 

Nessa laughed. "I miss my daughters, you'd be doing me a favor." 

They chatted while the line went down, about lacrosse and about university. It turned out Nessa's two daughters went off to college in other cities, so it had been a while since she saw either. "I had a son," she said. "But now I have a very happy daughter, and I'm so proud of her." 

"I wish I had a mom like you," Elayn said, thinking about growing up foster care. 

Nessa grabbed her in another hug. "Now you do!" 

When she got back to Serana and the others, they were listening to the music booming from the speakers. She had to yell to tell the group about her new mom. 

Chelsea looked a little sad, because she could connect the dots, but Luna and Ian were too busy freaking out over the cotton candy Nessa had bought her too. 

Not long after, the stage was occupied. Elayn was chatting with Luna with her back turned, so she missed it until Serana tapped her shoulder and turned her around. 

"Holy shit!" She hollered and clapped at the sight of a gorgeous, sequin clad drag queen in four inch heels doing a backflip off the stage and onto grass. "Holy shit!" 

As it turned out, the drag queens took tips, and it was at that point that Elayn knew she was about to spend a lot of money. Each queen that performed, and there were many, got a five in exchange for the sheer joy Elayn got when the queen before her touched her hand. 

When there was a break in the performances, she went back to Serana, who had a smirk on her face. "Should I be jealous?" 

Elayn cupped her face, and in a fit of sheer enthusiasm, kissed her girlfriend soundly, to the delight of the twins who hooted. "Don't worry, babe," she teased. "You're the only queen for me." 

"Flatterer." Serana swatted at her chest, but the smile on her face was pleased regardless. 

It was all a blur from there. Fair food, loud music-- and Elayn found beer that wasn't piss! She taught the twins a new vocabulary of cuss words the moment she found out their mom was fine with foul language. They parted around five in the afternoon, when a voice through a megaphone warned attendants that the festival was about to start catering to adults. There was a concert with more drag queens, this time in much more risqué outfits that Elayn would have given a kidney to see on Serana. 

When she said something, her girlfriend got a light in her eye. "Really now?" she purred. "Maybe for your birthday." 

By 11pm, Elayn was high on the party atmosphere and a few beers. The festival was over, and the walk back to their car would be a trick. "Did you have fun?" she asked Serana as they walked hand in hand. 

She got a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad I have you. When are we getting married?"

"When I figure out how to surprise you with a ring." 

[sylverstorms]

Fantasy Cruise

This piece is made for a very special someone, @standoutofthecrowd as a gift. The characters in this story are original and do not belong to any fandom. If you give it a read, I hope you enjoy ❣

Warning! The rating of this is M for Mature themes. ;)

They called it the Fantasy Cruise.

The hyper-luxurious ship of not-so innocent dreams, which promised to make anyone’s fantasies a reality during its five-day trip across the Mediterranean.

Well. So long as the money was there for an individual to afford one of its limited, mind-boggingly expensive tickets. Whoever said dreams were cheap clearly hadn’t heard of that cruise.

The advertisements all over the world promoted the experience as ‘starring in a romance movie’. And wouldn’t anybody be excited to star in their very own epic adventure?

“No.” Quinn deadpanned, dragging her luggage behind as she followed Lena into the fifth circle around the same deck, where their cabins were supposed to be.

“What do you mean no, stupid, isn’t this amazing?!” the other girl asked excitedly.

Quinn wondered what exactly was so amazing about getting lost on a piece of wood floating into the vast blue sea. Her glare met Lena’s back without much of an impact.

“No means no. It’s fine at best.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Quinn! Just look at this!” the redhead said, turning around to throw an arm around her shoulders and motion towards the polished-to-a-sparkle saloon, as if that would change the brunette’s entire worldview. “I won us free holidays to the world’s sexiest cruise. You should be beside yourself with excitement right now and buying me a shit ton of drinks as thank you!”

Quinn shook her head. “Correction; You won a trip for you and Mike –but then you had to go and break up and drag me into this, at the last moment.” As always. The woes of being a best friend.

“Because your single ass could really use what this dreamy ship has to offer.” Lena stated.

“It could also use some rest and relaxation at my grandparents’ seaside house.” The brunette countered. “Instead of being the wingwoman to the universe’s most annoying redhead.”

Lena grimaced. “And a sucky wingwoman, at that. Most of the guys I’m interested in come onto you.”

“Except I’m a tad too gay to care.” Quinn let out a small, exasperated sigh.

“Well, then this cruise is your chance! There are a ton of girls here and I can guarantee they aren’t straight as arrows, hon.” Lena replied. “Tell you what. When we find our rooms, we’ll take a look around. And if nobody exists to catch the great Quinn’s interest, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the trip.”

Quinn’s brown eyes immediately lit up at the sound of that.

“I should be offended at how much you perked up just now.” The other girl commented. “But, anyway. Do we have a deal?”

They shook hands. “We got a freaking deal.”

It only took another hundred turns to find their respective rooms.

…

Quinn was no stranger to waiting for Lena to get ready. The woman could show up anywhere from a quarter to an hour later than their arranged meeting time, so it was nothing out of the norm.

Alone in the empty corridor, Quinn checked her smartwatch, then leaned back against her door with a bored huff. She could already feel the ultra-comfy, queen-sized bed within calling her name, but if she gave into the urge to rest Lena would surely come in like the human wrecking ball she was and ruin it for her.

Giggles from down the corridor reached her ears, then.

Two girls were walking towards her, one raven-haired, the other blonde. Quinn didn’t really pay them any mind, until they were close enough to tell the cute laugh belonged to the blondie.

The stunning blondie.

Quinn hoped –but wasn’t betting on it— that she was subtle in her double-take. Because as soon as the beauty entered her field of vision, all else faded into the background. The girl’s hair was shining like silken strands, her pink lips glossy and glistening, absolutely kissable, her pretty face and killer body taken straight out of a dream.

Hazel eyes met brown for a single, earth-stilling second.

Then the girls were past her and Quinn blinked, checking the blonde’s back out before she disappeared around the next corner.

Damn, she thought. Maybe all that crap about fantasies coming to life weren’t complete bullshit, after all.

“Why do you look like a fish out of water?” Lena’s voice came, shattering the dream to pieces.

“Because I felt like one, waiting for your sorry ass to get ready. Move it or I’m going for a nap.”

“No, you’re not~ we’re hitting the pool.” Lena sing-songed.

Ugh. Maybe I can find someone to keep her busy for the next four days. Quinn thought. She’s happy, I’m free, win-win.

If she only knew…

…

“Hey. Hey look.” Lena whispered. Quinn huffed over her drink. “How about that guy? How would you rate him?”

“Why do you assume my answer’s gonna change? All guys get a zero out of ten from me. Period.”

“He’s an eight at least.”

“Sure, Lena.”

“How about that sexy over there, who’s been staring at your abs for the past ten minutes?”

“Hm?” Quinn turned, following her friends’ gaze under her glasses.

The drink nearly dropped from her hand when she saw the blonde from earlier on the other side of the crystalline pool, fair skin glittering from suncream. The brunette’s throat went dry.

“Ah, now she’s speechless.”

“Tsk. Don’t be an idiot, she’s probably not even gay.”

“Do you have eyes? Even I can tell she’s interested.” was the immediate reply.

“From this distance you couldn’t tell a dude apart from a girl, you idiot.” Quinn teased with a smirk.

“You’re the idiot if you don’t act fast and another girl chats her up first. Remember; We’re here to have a good time. Stop being uptight; There’s your good time, all blonde and waiting for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Lena, whatever you say-” But her friend was already rising from her sunbed. Quinn didn’t pay her any mind, at first, thinking she was just going for a swim or for a guy that caught her eye.

Instead, five minutes later, much to Quinn’s terror, the insufferable redhead was taking a seat right beside the cute blonde.

To say the brunette rushed to the other side of the pool would be an understatement. She could not recall a single instance in her life where she ran faster. It was practically teleportation.

“Hello, girls. This one has had too much to drink so excuse me, I’m taking her away~”

“Lies, they needed to know you have the hots for blondie but you’re too pussy to make a move-” the redhead began.

Quinn covered Lena’s mouth with a hand, pulling her into a headlock with the other. “Shh, don’t listen. We’re leaving. Sorry for the interruption.”

“Sad.” Miss Cute Blonde spoke up with a shy smile. “So… you’re not interested in me.”

“I… did not say that.” Quinn replied, heart suddenly in her throat. “I also didn’t say I don’t want your number.”

“Oh, good.” Another darling smile.

God. Head empty, girl too pretty. Quinn mentally slapped herself to get her shit together. “And definitely didn’t say I don’t want to see you at the bar later. At, like, ten o’clock.” Thank whatever higher power graced me with this sudden bravery.

“Maybe I’ll be there.” The blonde said.

It was only after Quinn went back inside with her friend in tow that she realized she didn’t even ask for the girl’s name.

“You’re welcome.” Lena laughed.

“Shut up…”

“You’re such a useless lesbian, by the way.”

…

Night had well settled over the ship. The massive pool at its pinnacle stood illuminated by both the moonlight and the soft LEDs within it, creating a beautiful setting, equal parts calming and seductive. Perfect for drinks and dates.

Quinn adjusted her blue button-up shirt as she walked out into the deck, greeted by the wonderful sight. There were tons of well-dressed people all around, but her eyes caught on one individual only.

“Hi.” She greeted, surprised she could speak at all, with the gorgeous blonde right there and dressed up just for her.

“Hey.”

“You look beyond beautiful. Only problem is, I can’t keep calling you ‘cute blonde’ in my head.”

“You look sexy. And you can call me Paisley, Quinn.” she replied in her sweet voice.

“You… know my name.” Don’t blush, don’t blush—

“I asked your friend.” came the shy admission.

“Yeah? What else did you ask about me?” Quinn smirked, slipping into the stool next to hers.

“Um… if you like girls…?”

“If I like you?” Feeling bolder, she raised a challenging eyebrow.

“If you like me…” Paisley chuckled there at the end. It was a sound that shot straight to Quinn’s heart.

And that– was worrying.

Because this was quite literally her dream girl in front of her... except she’d already paid the price of dreams, before. It had felt similar, then, since the first moment. A zap, undeniable attraction. An instant connection. And then… she’d been left bitter and alone.

Cold. Afraid to approach women for anything other than one quick, meaningless night.

“I think it’s quite easy to tell I do like you. A lot of things about you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, that melodic voice. How come a girl like you is single? That’s a crime.”

“Um. Long story, I guess. How come a girl like you is?”

“Long, unhappy story.” Quinn grimaced.

“I have time.”

They ended up chatting the night away, until the small hours of the morning.

…

The deck had nearly emptied.

Paisley and Quinn were walking side-by-side, admiring the dark waves as they gently lapped at the stark white shell of the cruise. It was time to say goodnight, but both were hesitant to go. To break the moment. To lose the chance for more.

Slowly, they turned to face each other.

“I had a great time.” Quinn began. “Thanks for the amazing company.”

“No, thank you…”

Neither moved to leave. Instead, they gravitated closer. Perhaps it wasn’t a smart move. Perhaps it would only lead to more trouble in the end. Perhaps it was fated. Perhaps it was fleeting.

But.

Quinn knew she would regret it for her entire life if she let Paisley slip away without first knowing exactly how soft her lips would feel against her own.

“So…” She began. “In the hypothetical scenario I wanted to kiss you before we go… would you like that?”

A brilliant smile, enough to rival the moon in its shine. “Hypothetically… I would.”

No more needed to be said.

The lock of their lips spoke the rest for them. Slippery, soft, tasting of daiquiri and strawberry lipgloss, that kiss was everything.

That kiss was the beginning of everything.

…

A full day had passed and they spent every moment together.

Swimming, laughing, trading interesting little facts and life stories. Trading kisses. What they had was a bond that formed so suddenly yet so powerfully it defied even logic.

As love often did.

And it was love. They both knew it, instinctively. Perhaps they weren't ready to admit it, perhaps the word was scary to fully register, yet that didn't make it any less true.

Every kiss fed something more than desire. Every caress, over an arm, over the gentle curve of a neck or a thigh, carried more than a physical aftershock.

They both knew they were on the same page on what they wanted, come nighttime. It was a wonder they hadn't ripped each other's bathing suits right by the pool so far. But they could only play nice for so long.

Quinn could feel her skin alight with want at every wayward trail of Paisley's nails on her. She wanted to have everything with the girl, even if it was just for a few days, just for one unforgettable night. They could worry about the rest later. They were already in too deep, anyway.

Paisley's back pressed against the door to her room. Her mouth was already onto Quinn's, tongue over her own, soft sighs and breaths filling the nonexistent space between their bodies.

Quinn's hands slipped under the blonde's top, caressing her tight, quivering stomach.

“Ah, at this rate we'll never make it inside.” Paisley panted.

“Good. Then whoever comes this way will know you're mine to have.” Quinn replied. Her teeth caught the sensitive shell of an ear. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For them to walk in on us like this? With my hand in your pants, rubbing you slowly?”

“Mmh.. Fuck...”

“With my fingers in your pussy, working deep?”

“Fuck Quinn...” Paisley groaned, pushing herself down on the thigh trapped between her legs. It only made the ache at her center worse.

Quinn couldn't help but rub herself against her, to ease her own lust. Their lips locked again while Paisley fumbled blindly for the electronic lock. It was a wonder they got the door to open with how focused they were on each other. Quick steps took them to the plush mattress at the far end of the room.

The brunette pushed gently, taking great pleasure in how easily her lover allowed herself to fall. Pale wrists were pinned onto the bed while thirsty tongues and bodies sought each other out...

But then they both pulled back. Paused. Stared into each other's eyes. The mood shifted like the wind before a storm. All the previous lust melted into something softer and far deeper, the urgency muted as they slowly started peeling each other's clothes off.

“You really are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.” Quinn whispered.

“You're the most stunning I've seen.” Paisley said back, a hand caressing her brunette's strong shoulders.

As much as she wanted to melt under the ministrations, Quinn wanted to bring her girl to that serrated edge of bliss, first. Thus began her descent down the marble plane of the blonde's neck, pausing to mark the skin with her teeth before soothing it with licks and kisses, enjoying every hitched breath she drew.

God, she feels so good...

With a light caress over Paisley's thigh, her mouth licked over a hard nipple, paying it the proper attention before moving further down. Her blonde was quivering by that point, non-verbally begging for her release. Every muscle taut, every breath shallow, eyes blown into swirling black pools. She was breathtaking.

Everything about the moment was.

When deft fingers finally dragged over soaked flesh, the reaction was as immediate as it was loud. Quinn decided she could easily get hooked on the sound and repeated the same motion with her tongue, from bottom to top.

She could feel in her mouth how ready to topple over the edge Paisley was for her. How she tried to last longer but couldn't help it. Quinn didn't think she could wait any longer, either. She needed to see her unravel more than she needed oxygen, right then.

With the insertion of fingers and a powerful suck, Paisley was crying out into the room, arching, clenching and contorting for her. Quinn, brought to the edge by her voice alone, couldn't help but grind down on her leg to mirror her release.

They both lay together after that, basking in the quiet closeness of their afterglow, hands roaming, worshiping, until the sunrise greeted them with its golden glory.

...

“I'm scared.” Paisley admitted between them. “That when the cruise ends, so will we. And I'm not ready to let this go tomorrow.”

“Neither am I. Not tomorrow. Maybe not ever.” Quinn said. “I haven't felt this way before. I don't generally feel things so... powerfully.” But this one slipped right under her defenses, somehow.

“But how will we make this work? You live here. I live on the other side of the world.” The blonde lowered her head, expression overtaken by sadness. “We'll just hurt to be apart.”

“We'll hurt, yes. But we won't 'just' hurt. Every relationship comes with pain— I think it's unavoidable, whether one’s partner is near or not. The question is, whether that pain is worth it. And I'd rather hurt yearning for you than for not having you at all.”

“I— I don't know what to say...” Paisley trailed off. “I only know I can't bear to lose you.”

“You won't lose me if you don't let me go. I will never abandon you, never let you face this shitty world alone.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

A promise sealed with a kiss and intertwined fingers below a gorgeous sunset.

And as it turned out, love can defeat any obstacle if it's real and true. Physical restrictions don't matter when it comes to what the heart needs. Distance bends before it. Even time can. Laws of physics and reason cease to apply.

The heart will love what it is meant to love.

[flamingfalcon3]

Hello! I have finally finished the first chapter of my first Jori fanfic. I’m still trying to get a feel for the character interactions but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it! I’m gonna start posting to ao3 once i get that account set up (and figure out a title lol) but I might as well post the first chapter here! Any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Jade knew her girlfriend was hiding something. 

Tori was not a hard person to read. Hell, the girl practically wore her heart on her sleeve. It was so easy to guess what she was feeling at all times that Tori had all but given up trying to conceal her emotions. 

So, when Jade noticed that Tori was a bit more high-strung and stressed than usual, it wasn’t hard for her to conclude that there was something on her mind. 

It also helped that Tori was an awful liar. 

“What’s up with you?” Jade asked casually during lunch one afternoon.

“Nothing!” the singer squeaked suspiciously. She cleared her throat and attempted to regain composure. “Nothing is up. Everything is great!”

Jade frowned slightly, not at all convinced, but decided just to drop it for the time being as the rest of their friend group arrived at the table. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sikowitz made them all tapdance while performing a scene to “demonstrate how important it is to stay in character no matter what the character may be doing” or whatever and then spent the rest of the class monologuing about how a squirrel got trapped in his bathroom. 

Jade sighed a breath of relief as the final bell rang and cut Sikowitz off just as he was about to go into detail about the standoff he had with the rodent. The only one seemingly more anxious to get out of the classroom than Jade was her girlfriend, who was out the door before the bell even finished ringing. Their friends glanced at each other in confusion. 

“Maybe she really hates squirrels?” Robbie suggested. The others considered it for a moment before shrugging and forgetting about it a second later, exiting the classroom.

Jade strode over to Tori, who was frantically throwing books into her backpack from her locker. Jade leaned back against the locker next to Tori’s while folding her arms across her chest. 

“You’re in a hurry,” the goth commented while watching the girl struggle to cram a science textbook into her bag. 

“Jade!” Tori jumped slightly, seemingly startled by Jade’s presence.

“That’s me,” she responded dryly. “Did you forget about our date after school today?”

The singer’s eyes widened in realization and her hand flew to her forehead as she let out a groan

“Jade, oh my god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot!” she confessed, clearly feeling guilty she had forgotten they’d planned to have sushi after school ended.  

“It’s alright,” Jade replied coolly, quirking the corner of her mouth up slightly to convey to Tori she wasn’t upset with her. “What’s got you in such a rush anyway?”

Tori paused for a moment, staring down at her converse.

“Oh, umm… I promised my mom I would help her with… something,” she mumbled.

“Something…?” Jade probed, hoping to get a little more context on what had her girlfriend so worked up. Tori, however, would not offer her any.

“It’s not important. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Tori slung her bag over her shoulder before stepping towards Jade and planting a short but sweet kiss to her lips. She then turned and began walking towards the exit. 

“You better! I can’t have people think I got stood up!” Jade called out after her, earning a hearty laugh from her girlfriend as she left the building. 

The goth rolled her eyes, amused by Tori’s refusal to admit what it was she was helping her mother with. It must be super embarrassing or something. 

Jade was halfway through entering her locker combination when she remembered something that gave her pause.

Tori’s parents were out of town for the week. Trina had a showcase and they needed an excuse not to show up. Why would she need to help her mom with something if-?

Jade’s phone lit up with a message from Tori directed towards the group chat, asking if anyone could lend her $100 bucks. The goth furrowed her brows. Tori rarely asked for money, and never more than $10 dollars at a time.

Tori Vega, what the hell are you up to? 

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

All Jade could think about for the rest of the day was how strange her girlfriend was acting. She wasn’t responding to her text messages and apparently none of their friends had heard from her either. It wasn’t like Tori at all, and Jade’s curiosity was slowly turning into concern. 

She knew it was silly to be worried. Tori was a big girl, after all. Still, why would she need $100 bucks on such short notice? And what was with her skittish and secretive attitude? 

Maybe she was in trouble with someone. Maybe she needed to pay them money in order to keep them at bay. 

The thought was so absurd that Jade almost burst out laughing as soon as it entered her mind. This is Tori she was talking about. Miss “I have never stayed out past curfew” Vega. Not exactly the type to get tangled up in criminal activity.

Still, Jade couldn’t help but feel uneasy about Tori’s radio silence. It wouldn’t hurt to pay her a visit, right?

15 minutes later she was climbing through her girlfriend’s bedroom window, which Tori for some reason always kept unlocked. Tori wasn’t there, but her backpack was on her bed and her phone was on her desk. Jade let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as she sank down onto the bed. Not 10 seconds later she heard the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open. In walked Tori who jumped five feet in the air and shrieked upon seeing someone in her room.

“Jade?” Tori yelped. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my texts,” the goth deadpanned. 

“So you broke into my house?” 

“I didn’t break in. Your window was unlocked,” 

“That’s still breaking in!”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes!” 

Jade was about to argue further when she noticed Tori was holding a grocery bag, and its contents looked quite heavy based on how far the bottom was sagging. 

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, gesturing towards the bag. Tori glanced at it quickly before fixing her gaze back on Jade. 

“Just some stuff for a science project,” she stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Tori,” Jade huffed. “We are in the same science class. We’re lab partners. We don’t have a science project.”

Tori stammered helplessly, trying and failing to come up with some explanation for what was in the bag. Jade groaned in annoyance, fed up with whatever game her girlfriend was playing.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me what’s going on! You know it doesn’t matter what it is since my opinion of you can’t get any low-” Jade was interrupted by a strange noise coming from somewhere in the room. She immediately turned to locate the source of the sound.  

Tori could only watch helplessly as the goth scoured every inch of her room before finally tearing open the doors to her closet. A tiny fuzzy creature emerged from the darkness. And then another. And then another. They kept emerging from the closet until there were seven tiny kittens of various colors and patterns wandering around the room. 

Jade slowly looked back up at her girlfriend, confusion written all over her face.

“How-how did those get in there?” Tori stammered, trying her very best to feign ignorance as all the kittens ran towards her meowing hungrily. 

Unfortunately her “very best” still wasn’t very good. 

“Tori, why were there cats in your closet?” Jade asked, still absolutely bewildered by the scene that was unfolding. 

The singer realized there was no way she could talk her way out of this one, and just gave her girlfriend a guilty look before opening her mouth.

“Remember last week when there was that sudden downpour in downtown Los Angeles?” Jade nodded. “Well, I was walking home from Nozu’s when I heard strange noises coming from an alleyway. I went to check to see what it was and-”

“Wait, you heard strange noises coming from an alleyway in downtown Los Angeles at night and you went to go check it out?” Jade asked incredulously. Jesus, Jade doesn’t know how her girlfriend has managed to survive for this long considering her self-preservation instincts were non-existent. Tori just rolled her eyes in response.”

“As I was saying, I went to go check out what the strange noises were and… well,” she turned to look at the kittens scampering around her bedroom. 

Jade brought her hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“So let me get this straight, you wandered into a back alley while it was raining and found kittens and decided the best thing to do would be to take them home?” Jade was still bewildered by her girlfriend. 

“Well when you put it that way it sounds like a stupid idea,” Tori blushed while avoiding eye contact. Jade sighed but took a step closer to her. 

“I mean, I always assumed you would be one of those lesbians who would have like ten cats but I thought that would start after you moved out of your parents’ house,” she smirked. 

“Hey!” Tori let out a mock-offended gasp while swatting Jade’s arm playfully. “I mean, I probably will have to move out once they come home and discover I’ve been hiding kittens in my room despite my father being deathly allergic to them.”  

Why was Jade attracted to such a moron? 

“Can’t you just give them to a shelter or something?” she asked gently. Tori shook her head softly.

“I thought about it but the pounds are apparently really full this time of year so there’s a significant possibility that they'll get…” Tori paused, unable to even finish the thought. “It’s just… they’ve been through so much in the short few weeks they’ve been alive and I can’t just abandon them now!”

Stupid Tori and her stupid heart of gold. The goth groaned and tilted her head back.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll help you with you’re dumb kitten problem,” Jade’s heart fluttered a little as she watched Tori’s face lit up like a christmas tree. 

“Really?” She gleamed. “How?”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would be interested in adopting tiny kittens. Especially if you go into detail about their tragic backstory and stuff. People are suckers for that kind of stuff,” Jade stated. “You could like, advertise them on The Slap and try to get them adopted before your parents come back.”

Tori chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating Jade’s suggestion.

“That’s… not a bad idea. People advertise things on The Slap all the time,” she hesitated for a moment and her face fell. “Ugh, wait. Trina follows me. If she finds out I’m hiding kittens in my closet she’ll rat me out for sure.” 

Jade closed her eyes and sighed deeply. God, she can’t believe she was about to say this.

“I guess… I could… post about the kittens on my page, or whatever,” she grimaced. Tori’s grin got so wide Jade was concerned her face was about to split in half. 

“You would do that for me?” she exclaimed. “But, your reputatio-”

“My reputation died as soon as I changed my status to ‘in a relationship with Tori Vega’,” Jade snorted. “Kittens would be nowhere near as embarrassing as you.”

Tori was beaming at her girlfriend despite the insult, chuckling lightly as she wrapped her arms around Jade’s neck and peppering her face with soft kisses before finally connecting their lips. The goth let out a content sigh in the back of her throat and attempted to deepen the kiss while pushing Tori backwards to the bed. However, Tori hummed and broke the kiss leaving Jade more than a little confused. 

“Sorry, I-” the singer stammered. “I would feel weird making out in front of…” 

Jade quirked her eyebrows up in amusement.

“In front of… the cats?” she asked, barely suppressing a laugh. Tori nodded, cheeks red with embarrassment. Jade just chuckled and rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s. 

“Jesus Christ, Tori.”

[entropic-introspection]

Final Fantasy XIV: A Quick(ish) Summary As Told By Someone Too Lazy To Recheck Exact Times/Things

1.0- We don't talk about it

A Realm Reborn (ARR)- for some strange reason the world got like, completely blown up 5 years ago, crazy! You are some dumb kid from nowhere in particular, with nothing but the clothes on your back and a weapon that is little more than a chunk of wood, or a book. Possibly just your fists. You have got 50 levels and a shitload of lore to get through until you reach the first expansion.

Essentially: you don't have enough money for chicken nuggets, your fashion game is nonexistent, and every high level player calls you a sprout and exhibits Concern about your every action (they mean well).

Garlemald bad, Ascians bad, Eorzea uhhh trying to be good but kinda racist/capitalist/pirates with a history of colonialism, Coerthas is French Catholic and in the Crusades with the dragons. Hydaelin... good? Confusing, for sure, often referred to as Mother in text. Primals bad and scary, but fortunately you are immune to their mind-fuckery techniques thanks to Crystal Mom and surprisingly good at kicking their asses. Garleans mad that you ""savages"" keep killing Primals, despite having a whole mandate against Primals and Primal summoning. Ascians mad that you keep killing Primals because Ascians are dicks. People die, there is an amnesia plot, some annoying twerp is annoyingly right about a lot of things and also you can't get rid of him, Moogles, possession, fucking Ancient Aliens Allagans (if it's a problem in ARR, it's Ascians or Allagans aight), and hey ho you go and kick Garlean asses until they throw a giant machine at you that they stuffed full of Primal juice. Such devastation-!

Then there is the slightly post ARR stuff, where we're still level 50-ish but not really into the next expansion. So basically, we meet Dragon Dad who slaps Crystal Mom's blessing off of you to build character, Ascians are once again dicks, Who The Hell Names These Things, wow Lysanderoth you're definitely not suspicious at all, and our annoying twerp is dabbling in politics and for some reason you're getting fond of him?? Just in time for...

Heavensward (Lvl 50-60)- Congratulations, you are now an enemy of the state! We return/flee to French Catholic Coerthas/Ishgard, where we get to room with our Dear Friend, Haurchefant.

Don't mind how all the high leveled players have started crying. This expansion is emotionally devastating, has a great storyline, and also features canonical consensual dragon vore as a plot point. You know that tweet that's all "Church bad because they won't let you fuck dragons"? Yes, that's Heavensward. You will still cry. We embark on an epic road trip with the annoying twerp (ft his existential teenage crisis), a famous dragon killer and sadboi, and a famous lady who advocates peace/fucking dragons. Somehow, none of you kill each other. Instead, you murder a weirdly attractive bug-man with good music and a desire for violence, a giant flying whale, and some old dudes. You also beat up the same Ascian from the first bit, again. And again, in his final(?) form. Dragon Dad has come along to watch your progress, and also check on his kids cause he's actually, y'know, the entire progenitor of the dragon race. Wow! His family is very sad, mostly. But he does like you, so hey, he can adopt you and have one kid that turned out ok and happy! Hahahahha there's no therapists in Eorzea :')

Then we get to deal with "Hey we ended your like 500 year+ Crusade and kind of upended your social structures, y'all good?" (no), something something Warriors of Darkness, something something Urianger sus, then ALISAIE JOINS THE PARTY. I love her ok, let me have this. She's the annoying twerp's twin, and she's more inclined to hitting things that politics and philosophy. She's also kind of crushing on you. Also Minfillia kinda fucks off to nowhere, which is weird, b/c she has been Important but also Not Involved with the plot for like. 8 years.

Stormblood (Lvl 60-70)- Return of Lysanderoth! Briefly. Before he fucks you over, again. And a bunch of other people, honestly. But hey, this puts Eorzea in open contention with Garlemald for the first time in years, instead of them hovering in an uneasy cold war. For the first goddamn time in the game, you canonically get your ass kicked. Hard. So hard you decide fuck it! And go overseas to Fantasy Japan/China to visit some nice people you helped out earlier. You get catfished. You meet a weeb. There's some pirates, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There's Ravana take 2, this time in a slightly more 'Forever 21' phase. Wild, young, free, REJOICE.

You attempt to inspire rebellion (since your character doesn't talk much, this is quite difficult). Garleans crack down, and hey look, the dude who kicked your ass is back! Prince Zenos Yae Galvus, as by this point you've hopefully learned, even if you're bad with names like me. He kicks your ass again, but this time we break his helmet, and wait shit is he... kind of hot? Maybe? Fuck?? He pins you to a wall and tells you to find him later, it's all confusing and prompts strange butterflies in stomachs. (Side note: as a lesbian, I am making some assumptions here. Mostly based off of how I reacted to the idea of Tsukuyomi doing the same. Mm.)

Then he promptly fucks off, and to work off that sexual tension you square up and work with local friends on Rebellion! You get help from some neighboring nomads after proving you're cool enough to tame a bird, and this proves enough to free the area from Garlean control (for now). We go back to Eorzea, and prepare to kick Zenos' head in. He's playing hard to get though, so we gotta get through some other folks, learn hard lessons about war/colonization, and feel bad. AND THEN WE KICK HIS- oh no wait. Is he... coming on to us again? Oh jesus man, get a therapist, oh my god, this is awkward for us both. Turns out he's kinda depressed and just wants you. To fight him. To the death. There is some bullshittery and he becomes dragon. Fails to kill you, so he kills himself. (Spoiler: it doesn't stick)

The Garlean Empire is now pissed off at you, and Eorzea in general. Everyone is kung-fu fighting, but oops, Garlemald is preparing to commit ~war crimes~! Someone is doing something weird, which is making your Scion friends fall into comas, which is both very convenient and highly inconvenient, cause all of you are kinda needed right now! Zenos, or something in his body, is causing trouble as well. Look, even when we thought he was dead he was causing trouble.

Shadowbringers (Lvl 70-80): We find out what's been making our friends pass out- someone from another dimension has been trying to yoink you over to them, and like all attempts at using the Rescue spell, it just sometimes leads to hilarious accidents. In this case, some epic lag, so although your friends have only been out of it for a week or two at most, they've been in this other world for 5 whole years in some cases. Turns out, Garlean war crimes are all an Ascian plot (what isn't, by this point), and mysterious Crystal Exarch is hoping you can save this world and your own.

At this point, Yoshi P, the lead developer, pulls out a gun and asks if you've been doing all those side-quests and optional 48 man raids. He worked very hard on those, you know. He put in lots of lore. Then he asks if you remember all those dangling plot hooks from previous expansions. We're addressing a lot of those. And adding more. You are sweating and nodding frantically while scrolling a wiki on your phone.

You get to feel like you're in an Otome game, because there's two dudes being weirdly polite and interested in you, but also real snappish to each other in terms of "fuck off she's mine". Alisaie and Alphinaud off-screen character development. Urianger still sus. Thancred now a dad? Y'shtola still so good. A lot of things happen, and you get progressively sadder as the expansion goes on. You get a nice, great big burst of hope and love, and then SOMEONE is a DICK with a GUN. (It is not Yoshi P.)

Now you just feel bad. Your character feels bad. This is all build up for the A) some motherfucking revelations and B) the utter catharsis of "If you could take one more step... would you?" "What, all by myself?" "THROW WIDE THE GATE"

I have shed legitimate tears over Shadowbringers ok, between the music, story, and pacing it is an Experience. Oh my god tho, all the music from Shadowbringers is so good. La-HEE

[violetwolfraven]

Peace and Joy

@spot-king-of-brooklyn I’m your secret Santa! @newsies-secretsanta

You said your favorite ships are sprace and/or javid and you’re good with pretty much anything so I’m gonna write two separate vaguely holiday-related oneshots in the reincarnation AU. Don’t worry though nothing heavy, just fluff. No COVID because I’ve had enough of that dude and I say so. Enjoy! Happy Holidays!

Tw: referenced past period-typical homophobia.

...

Spot couldn’t remember being this happy... ever. Not in the early 1900s or in the early 2000s.

Well, the closest he could think of was 1902, when he and Race moved on from being newsies and from being leaders of their respective boroughs and rented that old apartment in Brooklyn together. But that had been muted by the need to be careful. They couldn’t be normal young people in love because they always had to hide.

And that was fine at the time because it was expected. It was them doing whatever it took to be together not knowing they’d ever get the chance to do it another way.

Now, in the bright, beautiful, forward-thinking 21st century, they could be safe. They could be in love without fear of the consequences. They could go out Christmas shopping together, and Spot didn’t know if that counted as a date, but it kind of felt like one as he watched his boyfriend bop a little to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You as he looked around.

He ended up having to look away before he started blushing too hard. Even if he wasn’t the King of Brooklyn this time, he still had a bit of a reputation as a stone cold badass. For all he knew, one or more of their more mischievous friends could be spying on them right now. And besides, this thrift store probably had stuff he could get the few Brooklyn kids who’d come back, too.

He was still deciding if Hotshot would think it was funny if he got him a tank top that said ‘hot stuff’ on it. The others would find it funny, but Spot honestly wasn’t sure if it would make his former second uncomfortable.

“Hey, Spottie, ya think my little brother would like this?”

Spot turned back to see Race holding up a bright purple worm on a string, but a giant version of one. One that was big enough to be a scarf.

“Knowin’ your family,” he admitted, “I think any of ‘em would be happy to get one of those.”

It was true. Honestly, the most sensible Larkin brother was the second-oldest, Crutchie, but Spot could still see him proudly wearing a worm-on-a-string-scarf to school after winter break ended.

Besides him, Medda, Race’s mom, tended to embrace whatever unique fashion choice she could find. And Jack, of course, didn’t let being the oldest of four stop him from being a theatrical little shit who liked drawing attention to himself.

And Romeo was somehow even more eccentric than Race, so he would definitely like that thing.

Race grinned, “I’m gonna get Ro a worm scarf for Christmas.”

“Your family is ridiculous.”

“Thank you. So, what’re ya gettin’ for Denton?”

Oh, shit. Spot had completely forgotten about getting anything for Denton.

He really should get something for him. After all, the teacher hadn’t even known Spot when Jack asked if he could stay with him. All he’d needed to know was that Spot needed a place to hide from his terrible parents and couldn’t stay with the Larkins, mostly because Medda had a strict rule about her boys’ partners sleeping over unless it was absolutely necessary. (it was also because Spot couldn’t think of anyone he’d want to live with less than Jack Kelly, but Denton didn’t really need to know that, did he?)

So far, Spot’s parents hadn’t shown any signs of missing him, and Spot couldn’t decide if that hurt or not, but it barely mattered anymore.

Because Denton didn’t really have any rules beyond ‘do your homework’, ‘take a shower occassionally’, and ‘if you leave the house, let me know where you’re going.’ He helped Spot pick out a Halloween costume, let him spend Thanksgiving with Race, and gave him money for Christmas shopping. He was fine with Spot being gay and having a boyfriend, even if there was an added rule with that of ‘you can’t have the door closed if you’re alone in your room with Race.’

He gave Spot space, but also made it clear that he could come to him for anything he needed help with. He never hit him, never pushed when Spot wanted to be alone, never even raised his voice unless they were in an already-loud room and he needed to get his attention.

In short, in only a few months, he’d become the best adult Spot had ever had in his life. He wasn’t his father, but he was closest thing Spot had ever gotten to a dad.

The Denton they’d known in their last life had been kind of like that, too. He’d helped as best he could whenever one of the newsies got into trouble, always being there for anyone who needed him since Kath first introduced her new reporter friend to her newsie friends. Of course, Spot hadn’t been living with Denton then, so he’d never really thought about it.

“What do you even get a middle-aged man for Christmas?”

Race shrugged, “Power tools?”

The idea of getting Denton power tools was so ridiculous that they both laughed.

“Uh... he’s a writer,” Race pointed out, “So... fancy pens?”

“Fancy pens? We’re at a thrift store, Racer.”

“Well we don’t gotta stay here forever. There’s a Barnes and Noble across the street.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, but Spot wasn’t sure about the whole ‘fancy pen’ thing. It seemed a little generic.

“Yooooo! Spot, check this out for Jack!”

He was holding up a bright blue sketchbook that said ‘Sketchy Bitch’ on the cover.

“Oh yeah, ya definitely have to get that for Cowboy.”

Spotting (no pun intended) something else on the shelf behind him, Spot grinned.

He had the perfect thing to get for the man who’d taken him in.

...

“This is gonna be so fuckin’ awesome.”

Davey snorted, “You’re way too excited ‘bout this, Jackie.”

He loved his boyfriend, but he had a tendency to get overenthusiastic about things.

Well, he loved that about Jack, too. And he loved being able to call him his boyfriend, now. That they didn’t need to hide this time.

He and Sarah had both been a little worried about their parents’ reaction, but it had turned out to be for nothing. They’d each gotten a t-shirt with their respective pride flag for the first night of Hanukkah, and Jack and Kath were always welcome to come over as long as at least one parent was home.

Davey loved Jack just as much in this lifetime as he had in his first, but it was different, not having to hide it. It was good different, but definitely different. Being able to be who they were and be in love and knowing that it was generally frowned upon to be homophobic now, at least where they lived.

And being able to do random shit that was romantic and fun as hell, but not something would even occur to most people to do.

After a sleepy conversation once Crutchie, Race, and Romeo had fallen asleep watching White Christmas (which Davey appreciated for the choreography in the dance numbers) one time about how there weren’t really any Hanukkah movies, Jack had collaborated with Kath to write a lesbian Hanukkah musical romcom to post to YouTube.

Objectively, it wasn’t that great. It was good for a movie made by a bunch of high school juniors, but they couldn’t afford good cameras or microphones or anything. Plus, it was appealing to a very niche audience, so Davey doubted this movie would get more than twenty views.

Still, it meant a lot that Jack was so excited about it, that he was working so hard on props and editing in the lighting and music for it so Kath and Saz could play Jewish lesbians fake-dating at a holiday party who fall in love. It was cute.

“It ain’t gonna win any awards,” Jack admitted, “But I think we’s got somethin’ good here!”

“We do,” Davey agreed.

Was he actually talking about the romcom starring his sister and her girlfriend? Partially. It was a pretty good movie for something produced by teenagers.

But they had something good there that wasn’t on the screen of Jack’s laptop, too.

Jack seemed to share those thoughts, with the way he was smiling.

“What’s with the look, mi amor?”

Davey rolled his eyes as the other boy put his arm around his waist.

“Like you don’t know, love,” he chuckled, “Remember the last time we did somethin’ like this? And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’”

“Shh,” Jack shook his head, “Nope. We don’t talk about the latkes incident.”

“You mean when you almost burned down our tiny little kitchen trying to—“

“We don’t talk about it!”

Davey laughed. It was funny, how Jack couldn’t, in any lifetime, cook anything more complicated than like... chili or stew. While he could make something edible, he couldn’t make anything that was really considered good.

“Davey, love, luz de mi vida, it was literally over a hundred years ago, so stop. Bringin’. Up. The. Latkes. Incident!”

He punctuated the sentence by hitting Davey with one of his mom’s throw pillows.

“Okay, Jackie, I get it! Stop hitting me!”

“Fine,” Jack grinned, “I ain’t almost burned down a kitchen in over a century, babe. I thinks that’s a good record to have.”

“Most people never almost burn down a kitchen,” Davey pointed out, “I know I—wait, did you just call me ‘babe’?”

Jack was definitely not meeting his eyes to try to hide how he was blushing, “Uh... is that okay?”

Davey smirked. Jack didn’t get flustered that often, but it was adorable when he did.

And even if he had almost burned down their apartment, it had been cute back then, how he’d tried so hard to try to do something nice for Davey for the holiday season. It was cute now, too.

That was one thing that hadn’t changed through the decades, he guessed.

“It’s definitely okay, babe.”

...

“Spot, is this a... ‘Best Dad In The World’ mug?”

“...if you cry, I’m outta here.”

[asmileyoucouldbottle]

Pink in the Night- Catradora

Word Count: 4491

Catradora high school AU. Best friends to lovers. Adora is the ever oblivious captain of the school's football team, The Horde, and Catra is just a gay panic crushing mess who's in love with her best friend.

***

“Hey Adora.”

Adora spun around, her hand still on the towel she’d just slung around her neck.

“Catra!” She beamed, and Catra felt a little stir in her chest. Adora was decked in her football attire, exposed arms accentuating her muscle definition. Refusing to get caught staring, Catra twisted her lips into a smirk, shifting her gaze up to Adora’s eyes as a blush began to blossom.

“How was practice?” She asked, shifting her weight and placing one hand on her hip. A defensive pose. Though the only enemy is my traitorous heart. Catra thought with poetic annoyance.

“Great! Though I might have a little bruise forming from a ball Lonnie didn’t aim too well, but it’ll be fine.”

“Let me see.” Catra stepped forward, and Adora brushed her off.

“I’ll get some ice if it swells anymore.” She promised, and Catra rolled her eyes.

“Any more? ” She repeated dryly, eyes roving for a raised spot.

“Catra I swear I’m fine!” Adora’s words were exasperated, but her eyes were fond when she met her friend’s gaze. Catra felt herself begin to soften as well, and an unbidden smile rising.

A heartsick pang only Catra could feel ruptured the peace, and she leaned back against the locker beside her, faking relaxation. “If you say so.” She lifted one corner of her mouth to prove she wasn’t actually mad, and Adora moved to take off her jersey.

Catra whipped out her phone to give her somewhere else to look, but she couldn’t help but peer over the edge as Adora stripped down to her sports bra and threw on a tshirt with the lettering “Etherian Horde.” The cheesy design wasn’t flattering on anyone, so why couldn’t Catra tear her eyes away?

Face practically on fire, Catra ducked her head, hoping to at least somewhat hide her cheeks.

Catra cursed Adora for having this effect on her, scrolling aimlessly through her instagram with her thoughts only on the girl in front of her. The stupid blonde with stupid mucles and a stupid adorable smile.

Actually, Catra had to admit that her own hormones were probably partially at fault too. They were also stupid.  

“Ready to go?” Adora called her attention, helmet under one arm and gym bag in the other hand. Catra shrugged her own backpack, and reached forward to grab the water bottle from the blonde’s hands. Their fingers bumped, and Catra jerked back like shocked. After her mini gay panic attack at the lockers, physical contact was not optimal for recovery. And she was nothing if not dramatic.

“Catra? Are you okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck- “Yeah of course I am, I just uh… muscle spasm.”

Adora gave her a funny look, and Catra shoved her shoulder. “Oh cut it out.” She scowled, and Adora burst out laughing.

“Muscle spasm?” She repeated in between giggles, and Catra felt her ears heating as she forced down a small giggle of her own with a frown.

“Yes! Now stop that.” Her voice bordered on whining, but Adora was merely set off again.

Groaning, Catra slid a hand down her face, peering at Adora through the space between her fingers. The slightly annoyed girl cleared her throat, and Adora gathered herself.

“If you’ve finished,” Catra started with emphasis, “want to go get a shake or something? I just got my paycheck yesterday, so I have money for the first time in two weeks.” Despite the fact that she hadn’t had spending money in two weeks, Catra didn’t regret anything. She had spent her last paycheck getting them both matching rune tattoos that read “Promise.”

To Adora it was probably some sweet nod to their promise of friendship as kids, but Catra held the vow close to her chest with an iron grip. Maybe she’d never be able to have this girl the way she dreamt of, but the word reassured her that Adora still wanted her… even if it wasn’t the same way that Catra wanted her .

No one except an obsessive linguistics nerd would be able to tell what they said, so Catra was safe from rumors as well. It was bad enough she’d had to survive them all throughout middle school, after one time a kid saw them holding hands. It hadn’t, and didn’t, stop Adora and Catra from holding each other close whenever they needed the other. With or without a crowd.

Even so, that was middle school. Middle schoolers were nasty little toes and always looking for someone to throw under the bus. Most of the highschool students were mature enough not to care, and if they were homophobic pricks, they knew not to mess with Adora. Not because she was threatening, rather, she was liked by everyone. But as the best athlete in this school, between both the boy’s and girl’s team, she practically had celebrity status.

That said, she also did have very big muscles.

Before she would do something stupid like loose all sense and stare at said muscles, Catra turned and stalked out the door, combat boots smacking the wooden floor. “Come on!” She called, and Adora hurried after her. It only took a moment for the blonde’s track shoes to line up with Catra’s own footsteps, so they were walking in sync. A smile came to Catra’s lips as she recalled memories of skipping together down the sidewalks, arm around each other’s shoulders while they struggled to match each jump exactly to the other’s.

As if on queue, Adora brought her arm to rest on Catra’s shoulder. The brunette scowled, as she did whenever Adora flexed the inches she had on Catra. Instead of shrugging it off, she saw her opportunity and jabbed her elbow, half playfully, into Adora’s side instead. Caught off guard, Adora yelped and stumbled before tripping and going heads over heels over a bench.

Catra peeped over to see her sprawled on the ground, head having landed on her backpack and feet sticking up in the air. Adora glared at her, disheveled but eyes bright. Laughing freely, Catra had to lean on the bench to support herself.

“Don’t just stand there, help me up!” Adora reached her hand up, a lock of hair hanging in front of her eyes that escaped her ponytail.

“Just give me a minute.” The sight of her messy hair unreasonably set her off again, and Catra held up a hand as she continued struggling to catch her breath.

Through her laughter, Catra hadn’t noticed the sound of footsteps before they were too late.

“Adora, what on Earth are you doing down there?”

“Shadow Weaver!” Adora sputtered and attempted to straighten, instead managing to hit her head again on the locker. “I was just uh, I tripped.”  Catra muffled another laugh with a cough.

“You tripped.” The coach repeated, disdain filling her voice as she looked over at Catra. Despite herself, Catra felt herself stand a bit taller. Eyes narrowing, she continued, “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just as the season is starting to peak.”

It was clear Shadow Weaver knew Catra was to blame, and also that she had no sense of jest. That, plus Catra had the strange sense that Shadow Weaver just hated her. She suspected it had something to do with the lesbian flag in her locker.

“Of course not!” Adora’s breathy response drew both of their gazes to her, and Catra took pity, snorting again. Extending a hand, she ignored her jumping heartbeat and clasped the blonde’s grip in hers. She had a nice view of Adora flexing her arm to pull herself up, and despite struggling with the physical contact, Catra couldn’t complain.

Shadow Weaver glowered at Catra as if she could read her thoughts. It was all she could do not to stick her tongue out at the Head Coach.

“We’re going to be on our way.” Not relinquishing her hold on Adora’s hand, Catra pulled the football player behind her and away.

“Bye Shadow Weaver!” Adora managed to call before Catra made a sharp turn out of her sight.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Adora hissed, “Catra, what was that all about?”

“She was rubbing me the wrong way.” Catra huffed, continuing to march on.

“You were rubbed the wrong way? I was literally on my back the entire conversation!” Adora exclaimed, and Catra cackled.

“Oh how I wish I got a picture.” She paused to laugh, “and then when Shadow Weaver came and I didn’t help you up you should have seen your face. It was all like “ah no! Betrayal. ” Catra lifted her free hand up and dramatically twisted her face.

Adora sighed, her face melting from annoyance to a bemused smile at Catra’s reenactment. Her curved lips kicked off something in Catra’s chest, and she thought she would do anything to keep Adora smiling.

This time Adora tugged her hand as she continued her walk, and Catra looked down at their pressed palms with slight shock. She’d forgotten about taking Adora’s hand, they had fit together so naturally. Now it came rushing back, and she was frozen with not knowing if she should tear it away or let it be.

Settling for not doing anything and letting Adora take the lead, Catra knew she looked like an overenthusiastic kindergartener had taken a red stamp to her face. That is to say, a red flustered mess.  

Taking an extra large step, Catra came up along Adora’s side. Adora fished around in her pocket for a moment, before retrieving her phone. Before Catra realized what she was doing, Adora had angled the camera at their joined hands and snapped a picture.

Ripping her hand away, Catra jumped back, cheeks burning. “What are you doing?!” She spat, and Adora looked at her with slight reproach, though if Catra wasn’t mistaking, she looked a bit flustered herself.

“I was trying to take a picture of our tattoos!” She stuttered out. Catra felt a pang of guilt. I must’ve freaked her out. Again.

“Well we don’t need to be holding hands to do it.” She grumbled, secretly wondering how she could get that picture. Hand feeling cold suddenly, she shoved them both in her pocket with a glower at the traitorous limb.

Catra looked up at Adora, an awkward silence stretching. Adora’s ears were pink as she looked at her phone, and Catra tapped her shoulder.“Sorry, I just…” There were a million ways to finish the sentence, but none that wouldn’t make this any more awkward. Opting to leave it open ended, Catra didn’t finish, instead stepping forward to push open the door with her shoulder.

“Ummm… did I tell you about how Kyle let the frogs loose in the science lab yesterday?”

The momentary tension dissipated as Catra continued her story, animated with grand gestures and facial expressions. She warmed as Adora laughed, the late afternoon sun making her face glow.

***

Catra kicked open the door of Mystacor Cafe, and made her way to their typical table in the window.

“Adora,” Catra turned her head, and frowned when her blonde wasn’t beside her.

“Adora?” She turned completely around, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see the athlete exchanging high fives and greetings with groups at other tables as she passed.

Glimmer waved in her direction. “Adora! I saw the pictures you sent me, I take it Operation Get the Cat-” Her face went stricken when she caught Catra’s eye, and the rest of the sentence was finished also as a mumble, “is going well.”

Completely confused, Catra looked over to see Adora glaring at Glimmer, cheeks flaming red. She was refusing to look back at Catra.

Operation get the Cat?

Adora still wouldn’t look at her, and went back to talking to the cheerleaders, who were beginning to look a little too flirty for comfort. Trying to shake off any tangles of jealousy, Catra sighed, dropping her bag as she slid into her chair. Propping her feet up on the table, she considered the rips in her jeans, deciding that they would look even better with another a little further up her thigh.

Tilting her head, Catra studied Adora. She would look good with a few rips in the sleeves of her jacket… just to spice things up.

“Hey, Brain-Damaged!” Adora turned her head, and Catra burst out in laughter, almost falling out of her chair.

“Did you actually  just respond to ‘brain-damaged?” Catra wheezed. The group of cheerleaders who Adora had been talking with looked over at her with curiosity, and Adora crossed her arms, pink tinging her cheeks. “Well, you were talking to me weren’t you?”

“Yes, but still. ” Catra hopped up onto the table as Adora rolled her eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve called me that.” She grumbled, and the brunette smirked.

“I think it suits you.” She announced, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. Adora seemed to be seriously considering marching over and pushing her off the table. Both to aggravate her further, and make sure Adora couldn’t literally shove her over, Catra stretched out so she was lying on her stomach. Head propped in her elbows and feet kicking, she concluded “along with idiot” with a wink.

“HEY CATRA!”

Catra started, making a noise akin to a hiss.

“GET OFF THE TABLES!” Glimmer called from behind the counter, where she was working.

“Oh, can it Sparkles!” Hopping off the table, Catra turned to acknowledge her friend with a stuck out tongue. She returned it before turning back to the coffee machine.

“Are you done tormenting Glimmer?” Adora sat down across from her, and Catra looked up at her. Bits of hair were falling out of her ponytail and sticking to her forehead, and there were a halo of flyaways. It looked damnably attractive.

“I wasn’t tormenting her.” Catra emphasized. “Actually, I was trying to bother you. She just had to spoil my fun.”

“I think she was more concerned about doing her job than ‘spoiling your fun.’”

“Whatever. By the way, I was thinking about customizing your sports jacket…”

Adora gave her a wary look, ““What exactly did you have in mind?”  In response, Catra held up her long black painted nails with a wicked grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“ Ughh fine, you’re so boring.” She squinted, tilting her head. “It would look good with two little rips on each arm…” Leaning forward suddenly, she was about to slice, but Adora grabbed her wrist.

“ Catra.”  Adora looked down at her sternly. “We are not ripping up my team jacket.”

Catra held her gaze defiantly for a few moments, and there was a shift in the air between them. She couldn’t say what it was, but suddenly she wasn’t looking at Adora’s eyes, but rather…  in them. Her heart fluttered and her wrist went weak. The moment stretched, and they were only inches apart…

Adora blinked, and the spell was broken. She dropped Catra’s wrist in a rush, her eyes darting away as color bloomed across her cheeks. Catra felt her mouth fall open slightly in shock, though she didn’t know if it was belated shock from the moment or the fact that it had ended. Blood rushed to her cheeks as sat back, still in temporary mental paralysis.

Adora had just looked into her eyes, and then blushed.

But… she had also pulled away.

The mixed signals made Catra want to scream, but was there a possibility?

Adora stood up suddenly and gestured with her arm, turning her face away. “Come on, let’s go order.”

They went to the counter, ordering their usual milkshakes, chocolate for Catra and strawberry for Adora. Mere seconds after they’d sat down, Catra reached over and snatched Adora’s shake, holding it out of her reach as she “taste tested.”

Catra held it up and behind her head, leaning as far back as she dared while Adora reached over the table. “You- you pest!” Adora shrieked, and Catra laughed two times harder.

“ Pest?” She repeated, teasingly mocking. “Who says pest?!”

“Glimmer said it yesterday.” Adora huffed, continuing to reach.

“Actually, that is a very Glimmer thing to say, but not something I’d expect you to repeat.”

In a last ditch effort, Adora jumped out of her seat and lunged. Catra’s chair tipped back, and suddenly she was falling as the blonde reached forward to try and stop it.

It was like slow motion. Adora, moving in an attempt to stop Catra from tipped completely backward, stepped forward and onto a forgotten gatorade. The bottle rolled and her foot slipped out from under her, and then she was going down as well. Falling forward towards Catra while she backwards, Adora threw out her arms to stop herself from face planting into the other girl. Catra landed on her back with a shock, but whatever breath was left in her body left her lungs when she opened her eyes to see Adora’s face millimeters from her own.

A deep blush spread across Adora’s face, starting at her nose and working its way until the entirety of her cheeks and forehead were reminiscent of a cherry.

Neither of them made a move, and Catra’s heartbeat was beating so erratically she was certain she was seconds from a heart attack.

That would be a fun gravestone. “Cause of death: Gay panic induced heart failure.”

Her eyes traced Adora’s eyelashes, dark and full despite her blonde hair. The grey-blue of her eyes locked into hers, and Catra inhaled sharply.

Was there a heterosexual explanation for the way she was looking at her?

Blood rushing through her head, Catra froze as Adora’s face moved minimally closer to hers, lips tingling with anticipation, and thoughts whirring into white noise-

“Hey! Catra, Adora!”

Like a shaken soda pop, Catra jolted backwards, and Adora stood up so fast it seemed impossible. Breathing heavily, Catra tried to make up for the lack of oxygen intake from the last, what- minute? Five minutes? Ten? How long had Adora been there, face in front of hers, inching closer��.

“Uh…. sorry.” Adora gave her a hand, and Catra pulled herself up. They were inches away again, and the brunette took a jittery step back. Her hand tingled from the contact, and she shoved them in her pockets, unable to look Adora in the eye.

Bow was looking between them, an unreadable look on his face.

“We fell.” Adora explained, breathless. Catra sneaked a look at her, and saw the pink was refusing to fade.

The possibility that Adora could ever like her back seemed so absurd mere week ago, even an hour, but now… Catra didn’t know.

Ridiculous.

But… was it?

Overwhelmed with thoughts and shaky nerves, she crouched to pick up the strawberry smoothie. It’s contents were all over the floor, and Catra was about to stand up again to get napkins when Adora crouched down.

“I’ve got it.” She started to clean up, paper napkins in hand. Their shoulders were touching, the blonde’s ponytail brushing her cheek.

“Uh, thanks.” Adora turned to Catra, and once again their faces were far too close.

Knees weak, Catra stood up and stumbled into her seat. Bow had turned it upright, and he was now leaning against the table.

“Sooooo…” He looked at her again, one eyebrow raised. Catra gave him a glare, and he raised his hands.

“So.” Adora plopped in her chair, her cheeks still stained slightly pink. Catra thought of the pink contents of the strawberry milkshake spilled on the floor, and Adora’s eyes meeting her own…

It was all too much to take in.

“I just remembered I have… uh… extra, er, calc homework. But I will catch up with you later!” Not even waiting to see their reactions, Catra slung her backpack over her shoulder and tried not to run out the door.

***

Scaling the tree alongside the house with ease, Catra came level with the second floor window and knocked.

She didn’t even have to wait a full two seconds before the curtain was pushed aside. Adora was wearing a black tank top and sweatpants, her hair up in it’s classic ponytail, though it was messy, as if she hadn’t bothered to redo it since this morning. Catra tried to ignore how the tips of her ears felt slightly warmer.

The window opened with barely any complaint, and Adora poked her head out. “What’s up?”

“I’m heading up to the roof if you want to join me.” Catra let go of the branch with one hand, so she was leaning out precariously.

“Show-off.” Adora mumbled, and Catra winked. The blond’s gaze immediately flicked away, and Catra felt a little jump in her chest. Adora turned to grab a blanket before starting to crawl out of the window with some difficulty, despite having done this regularly since they were kids. Catra leapt up the branches until the top of the house, where she transferred to the roof with ease. Adora came in her own time, and settled beside the brunette, shoulders touching as their legs dangled over the edge. The sun had just set, and a hazy dusk was settling over the town as they looked out.

They didn’t speak for a while, just sat with each other. For years they’d been doing this, and they had gotten to the point where silence spoke just as much as words.

But now, the silence was charged, and Catra’s mind was full. Full of Adora. The girl beside her, who had always been beside her. She who had bangaded scraped knees, laughed off mean spirited teasing, taught her how to ride a bike, sat with her when no one else would… all the way up until their relationship now. The person who was always there for her, whether it was to do something small like make fun of Shadow Weaver’s pretentious dresses, or provide a place to stay when her parent’s fighting got too loud.

Fueled by these emotions, Catra moved her hand to settle on top of Adora’s.

Adora started. Catra kept her hand there, frozen as she waited for Adora to make a move, waiting for rejection. Though the action itself was miniscule, Catra could feel how everything shifted.

Her hesitation was brief, but the time it took almost killed Catra. Instead of moving away, she flipped her own hand palm up and intertwined their fingers.

She felt a flutter as her breath caught. Feeling almost above her body, Catra turned to look at Adora. A moment later, the blonde turned her face as well.

The space between them was practically nothing, and the rest of the twilight fell away as she caught Adora’s eyes. There was something there, a wanting, as they searched Catra’s own.

Adora leaned forward, and Catra did the same.

The twilight fell away, as did her stomach. The kiss was tentative, and lasted only a moment, as if they were both uncertain. When they met each other’s eyes again, Catra moved back the tiniest amount.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, her heart and voice trembling with anxiety. This was the chance for Adora to back out and pretend it hadn’t happened, or admit that it was spur of the moment and unwarranted. She could end all of this with a single word. Dread slithered through Catra, but she remained firm. She wouldn’t take advantage of this if it wasn’t okay with both of them.

Adora took both of Catra’s hands in hers, and gave her a wide smile, one that sent Catra’s stomach whooshing and her heart floating. “Absolutely.”

Catra beamed back, full of light. This time, there was no hesitation.  She brought her lips to meet Adora’s again, and put all that she had, years of yearning and wishing, into it. Though her emotions hit her with all the power of a comet, the kiss was tender. Sweet. Loving.

When they parted, Adora grinned, looking practically starstruck.

“Wow.” Her voice had taken on this sort of… dorky… quality, and Catra couldn’t help but giggle.

“You dummy.” She rested her forehead against Adora’s. “I love you.”

The words, spoken with sudden bravery, seemed maybe a little too heavy for someone who she had only kissed twice. Or was it once? Did it count as two?

Either way, Catra knew it was true. She’d known it was true for years, but she had no idea if they would ruin this beautiful thing they’d just created. So she tensed, waiting for the fall.

“You love me?” Adora repeated with slight disbelief, but not repulsed.

Catra laughed lightly. “You are such an idiot.”

“I love you too.” Catra turned to look up at Adora, her turn to be shocked. After the kissing, she was expecting her to like her at least, maybe a lot, but…

Love?

Adora’s eyes said it all, and feeling close to bursting, Catra responded by closing the gap once more.

With the knowledge that this actually meant something, it was even better. Catra brought her other hand around Adora’s waist, and they leaned into each other fully. A warm feeling spread throughout her, and Catra thought about how long she’d wanted this. To love Adora, and be loved back.

Adora leaned forward a little more, and every thought left her head besides Adora’s lips.

It was messy and warm, just like the two of them. Darkness was coming in on them rapidly, but Catra never wanted to leave this roof. Not if it meant she got to have Adora.

Breaking apart, Catra remembered that Adora was wearing a tank top, and she wasn’t too warm either with her fishnet sleeves. With slight disappointment, she reached over and grabbed the blanket that Adora had carried up. Adora took one side, and threw her arm over Catra’s shoulder, bringing her in close. Catra tucked herself into Adora’s side, contentment washing over her.

The sky was a shade of blue that couldn’t be described as light nor dark. It was dusky, and Catra noticed the first star. Nudging Adora slightly, she pointed. “Look.”

There was a moment of silence, before Adora asked, “What did you wish for?”

Since they were kids, they’d always come up here to watch for the first star and make wishes. And of course they’d always share their wish with each other, because the “bestest of friends” bypassed the rule about your wish not coming true. Instead, they had declared, if we told each other, the wish would be twice as strong. Because if Catra wanted something, Adora wanted her to have it, and visa versa.

Catra didn’t have to think too hard before finding a simple truth. “More nights like this.” She decided, looking up at Adora.

Her face melted into another smile. “Wish granted.” She declared, resting her head on top of Catra’s.

“What about you?”

Adora considered. “I actually think I have everything I want right now.”

“You sap.” Catra whined, but her words had no effect once she started kissing Adora again.

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Tap Out Job

leverage 2.02

Jack: Somebody drugged his water. It's an old boxing trick. He couldn't defend himself, and... He's still in the hospital.

that’s fucked

- - - - -

Eliot: It's not a cockfight. All right? Let me show you something, Hardison. Come here. Can I borrow you? (puts a gentle hand on Parker’s hip, guiding her to the open space behind the couch) All right. Square up. Remember what I showed you?

(Hardison and Parker square up)

Hardison: Are you...

Eliot: There's three phases to an MMA--to an MMA fight, okay? One, striking. (Parker punches Hardison in the face) Nice. Next is grappling, the takedown. (Parker grabs Hardison and throws him on the floor) Exactly. All right. The third one is jujitsu. Okay, try to isolate a joint. (Parker gets Hardison in a hold) That's good. That's a textbook armbar, Parker. Put some pressure on there.

Parker: Like this?

Eliot: There you go. Or you can go for a choke hold.

Hardison: She got to be choking me. (tries to get away)

Eliot: Remember that thing that I showed you?

Parker: Oh, yeah. The choke.

Eliot: Lock that in. All right. You don't have to hold the arm. See, that's a triangle choke. That's nasty. Puts pressure on his carotid artery, and the guy will submit by tap out.

Hardison (tapping the ground): Eliot, I'm tapping! I'm tapping!

Eliot: These fights are won by inches, I'm telling you.

Hardison: I can't breathe!

Eliot: All about leverage.

Sophie: Yeah, it looks really painful.

Hardison: It is painful!

Nate: No TV deal, you said, huh? Hardison, what are this guy's other interests, this Rucker guy?

Hardison: Seriously, you ask me a question right now...

Sophie: I'll take that. Yeah, rotary club, golf membership.

Nate: Golf, huh?

Hardison: Help me!

Sophie: Yeah. I mean, this guy's like a 1950s sitcom character. He plays a weekly game with the local businessmen. In fact, last year, he won the club championship.

Nate: Did he? Hmm.

Hardison: Let me go!

Nate: I guess it's...

Hardison: She's killing me!

Nate: …it's time to hit the links.

Hardison: I'm cool. Just let me go real quick.

eliot canonically teaches parker how to fight in his spare time and I LOVE THAT

fucking CHAOTIC OT3 + parker is having a great time while hardison is dying

ALSO can we just for a minute appreciate how when she puts him in a chokehold she was wrapping her legs around his neck, which basically had his head in her crotch area and !!! it wasn’t sexualized at al !!! literally A N Y other show would have sexualized it even just a little bit but not leverage. never leverage.

- - - - -

I love it when they fuck with peoples gear (like with the baseballs or hockey pucks or in this instance the golf balls)

- - - - -

parker playing with the golf club covers

- - - - -

literally EVERY con has nate being an asshole (this one was one of the more annoying ones tho)

- - - - -

hi I am but a simple bi and eliot in that grey hoodie was VERY attractive

- - - - -

Room Service: Room service. Can I help you?

Sophie: Yeah, no, I can't eat this. I'm sorry?

Everything on my plate is yellow.

Room Service: It's chicken-fried steak.

Sophie: It's what? Chicken-fried steak?

Room Service: Yes.

Sophie: No, let me just tell you, all right. Meat should never be used as an adjective.

~ a little while late ~

Sophie: I'm starving.

Parker: I found these in the minibar. (throws her a bag)

Sophie: "Pork Rinds"? How do you peel a pig? (throws it back)

- - - - -

Hardison: Got it. See, Online video websites, they track viewer hits by IP Address, so the trick is to just spoof a bunch of IPs, then write a script that lets you browse the video page via the proxy list and...

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, this guy, he just--he give me the creeps.

Eliot: We've gone up against rougher dudes than this before.

Sophie: I know. But it's this whole treating people as commodities. This whole barbaric sport.

Eliot: Hey, don't lump these guys in with Rucker. All right, he's not what the sport's about.

Sophie: Eliot, this "sport" is about two guys beating the crap out of each other.

Eliot: MMA fighters act with more respect than any other athlete I've seen.

Sophie: Yeah, they're "Braveheart," I get it.

Eliot: No, you don't. These guys don't fight because they like hurting other people, all right. They fight to gain some sort of control over their opponents, over their environment, over their lives. Have you seen this town? Huh? The farms are drying up. The only stores are bail bondsmen and pawn shops, and there's nothing they can do about it. So, yeah, they get in the ring and try not to let it all suffocate them. (a beat, he smiles) And it's about two guys beating the crap out of each other. (she smiles back)

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a green flannel in this one and it looks very nice and comfy

- - - - -

Rucker: Well, bottom line is, you need good product. What event are you here to produce?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: On it. There's a tractor pull in grand island, a livestock show in council bluffs, white people doing other white things…

pls keep calling out white people pls we deserve it lmfao

- - - - -

Director (in car looking at his phone): Come on! Come on! Give me something! Come on! Is this gonna take long?

Nate (through window): No. Two shakes. Are you in a hurry?

Director: Even half a bar... what? Yes. Hurry. Does anyone in this backwater hellhole know what that means?

Nate: You're a director, right? What was your name again?

Director: What? It's Laurence. Todd Laurence.

Nate: Todd, well, listen, Mr. Laurence. See, I wrote a script...

Director: Huh?

Nate: Yeah. It's about a limo driver who solves mysteries till his wife leaves him for --

Director: For the love of god!

Nate: ...the best part: The feed store manager. Right? His wife…

Director: Yeah...?

Nate: Tramp...

Director: Hey, hee-haw, move the car! Okay

- - - - -

parker in leather pants, a bright yellow ‘I heart Nebraska’ tshirt and weird hat, eating a corn dog? ,,,a look I guess

- - - - -

Hardison (showing passes): So, I'm Todd Laurence? (girls flock to Hardison) Ladies, please, look. For the last time, I am not the tailback for the cornhuskers. Go! I don't even know what a cornhusker is.

- - - - -

Rucker: And all you need is a product?

Sophie: Well, that's what they are: Products. You get the girls with Trianna, you get the boys with MMA. And there's always another fresh-faced princess ready to go through the singing/dancing mill in Florida. Occasionally, we let one be a lesbian, keeps the press on their toes

- - - - -

Hardison: What? What? W-what was I supposed to do? It was cousin Jimmy.

Sophie: He's right. We couldn't have planned for that.

Hardison: Look, you know what I can do? I can re-task a satellite, I can get a level 3 NSA clearance, but I can't hack a hick

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, it doesn't matter. What do we do now?

Parker: We can move the Howorth.

Eliot: We're not moving the Howorths. All right? This is their home. That means something to people here.

Sophie: Yeah, we can't babysit them forever.

Nate: We've taken out bigger players than this. You know, there's got to be some way, something we can...

Eliot: No, no! I take the dive.

Sophie: You sure?

Hardison: Give me some time, okay? I've found some funny business in Rucker's accounts. I can move some things.

Eliot: Forget the fact that we just got beat by Barney Fife, all right? This is the right move. Tactically it's the right move. You all know that. (walks away)

none of them want to see eliot hurt more than he needs to or see him go down like that and I cry

alec ‘give me five minutes I will do literally anything for eliot’ hardison

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey. Listen, you-you don't have to do this, you know. Nate's gonna come up with something.

Eliot: I'm losing a fight, Sophie. I'm not diving on a grenade. I'll be all right.

Sophie: Yeah, I know. I'm not talking physically.

Eliot: I think my ego can handle it.

Sophie: Look, you told me that it's about control, about knowing that you're never gonna be the victim. And that's what keeps you going, right?

Eliot: You think I'm upset 'cause I got to let this guy kick my ass? I learned a long time ago, you can't control the violence. I can take the punishment. That's what I do. What I need to control is not out there. (touches his chest) It's here. Always.

(Sophie smiles and walks away)

- - - - -

hardison holds eliots face before he fights I never noticed that before

+ eliot’s hair is curly when it’s wet/when he’s sweaty. this means he blowdries his hair on a regular basis. eliot, as a part of taking control of himself and his life after moreau took interest in self care and taking care of his hair in this essay I will-

- - - - -

one thing I love about this is that eliot doesn’t have a six pack (see this commentary I made with a few lovely additions by my mutuals)

- - - - -

Jack: Where's Rucker?

Hardison: Oh, the Iowa State Police just got a tip that a fugitive is headed into their jurisdiction. And I'm pretty sure crossing state lines with a bag full of cash won't look too good.

Parker: Especially when they find the little surprise in his trunk.

[Flashback, Pawn Shop]

Parker: I need guns. (dumping money on counter) $6,000 worth. And one of those.

LMFAO THERE WAS A TUBA TOO

- - - - -

Doctor (examining Eliot): You took a hell of a pounding. We should get you a CT scan. You could have internal bleeding.

Jack: You let yourself get hammered like that on purpose? That's a hell of a lot of punishment to take.

Sophie: That's what he does.

- - - - -

eliot held the rope up for parker to step under when they were getting out of the ring

- - - - -

Sophie (to Parker): Pork rind? They're actually pretty good. (parker shakes her head and rubs her stomach) You sure?

sophie nO

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 8

Buster woke the following morning feeling like hell. His nostrils were so stuffy he could barely breathe out of them, his nose was on fire, and his mouth still tasted like blood even though he’d brushed his teeth twice before bed. He stumbled to the bathroom to look at the damage. Two small purple bruises underscored his eyes and the bridge of his nose was swollen to twice its size. His appearance confirmed that canceling filming had been the right decision. He swallowed some aspirin, cleaned his teeth again, and took a shower, letting the steam open his clogged sinuses. 

The aspirin barely touched the pain. He toweled off and pulled on a dressing gown, then poured himself a breakfast whiskey to go with the steak and eggs he ordered. Once he’d eaten, he called Nate. To his relief, he was patched over to her line; she hadn’t left for Sunday brunch at Dutch’s yet. 

“Hello?” she said.

“Hi, how are you?” he said.

She told him that she was well. 

He said, “I broke my nose in the game last night.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. How?”

He explained the eighth-inning fastball to the face. “But we won the game. 9 to 6.”

“Did you?” she said. “That’s too bad about your nose though. I’m sorry, darling.”

She sounded suitably sympathetic, but he craved more. He wanted the soothing, the I’ll-be-right-there, the kissing and canoodling. 

“How are the boys?” he said.

“The usual,” she said. “Full of the devil.”

“Good,” he said. “I won’t be filming for a few days because of my nose. You should really consider bringing them up. They’d love the steamboats and I’d like you to see the set. They say the shopping is good in Yolo, too.”

“Oh Buster,” she said, her tone telling him the answer was already a big fat no. “You know I’d love to, but six hours on a train is too much for them, don’t you think? I know you’re disappointed, but we must think of what’s best for them. And wouldn’t they be in your way? I’d have to bring Connie to mind them, and I think four is getting to be a crowd. I don’t suppose your suite would hold another four, would it?”

“Nate, you don’t have to bring the governess. I think you’re perfectly capable of managing them for a few days, don’t you? We can get a second suite or even a third, if that’s what has you concerned.”

“I’m flattered by your faith in me,” she said with a little laugh, “but you’ve never traveled with three- and five-year-old boys! I know I’m letting you down, but it’s only another month, isn’t it? Five weeks tops? That’s really not so bad when you think of it.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” he said, echoing her hollowly.

“I miss you dreadfully,” she assured him, before launching into a story about the picture Dutch was filming and the party she intended to throw with her sisters at the Villa next weekend. He listened with only half an ear. He wasn’t surprised about her answer to his proposal, but he still felt lousy.

Since Bobby had been born and Nate had booted him out of the bed, he’d accepted that his needs would have to be satisfied by other women. He knew that Nate hated him for it, even though he’d stuck to his original promise and been the soul of discretion. In spite of her rejection, he still desired her and wanted to win her back, but the most she would ever permit was necking and light petting. If he so much as thought about taking things further, she’d squirm out of his grasp. He just didn’t understand, even three years since he’d last made love to her, why he couldn’t have both a wife and the rights that other husbands were entitled to. He’d gone over it in his head a thousand times. Was he a bad lover? Was it her upbringing? Peg’s sermonizing? Her religion? Could she be a lesbian? He didn’t know and God forbid he even try to broach the topic. She’d give him such a withering look before she stalked out of the room that he felt like he ought to be thrown in jail on charges of sex depravity for even mentioning the idea. 

Divorce was out of the question, naturally. There were relationships to preserve: the one with Joe for starters and those with his famous sisters-in-law. He didn’t trust that Nate wouldn’t try to keep the boys from him, either, if he tried to end it. He could just hear her saying to some attorney, ‘Well, he doesn’t see them much anyway.’ In the meantime, all the saphead could do was to keep trying vainly to find that opening in his wife’s affections. Casting her as his leading lady hadn’t worked. Building her a little love-nest, then a great big love-nest, hadn’t worked. He’d recently decided that maybe a real honeymoon instead of the post-nuptial cross-country train trip that had masqueraded as one might work on her. He figured deep down it wouldn’t change her mind, but still he had his foolish hopes. 

When Natalie was done prating, he told her he had to get ready for lunch with Joe and said his goodbyes. There wasn’t any such lunch, but he no longer wanted to talk. 

He ended up spending the afternoon at the new zoo, disguised by a fake moustache, a tweed cap, and jumper vest that constricted him in heat on what was already a sweltering day. It worked, though. No one looked twice at him. The zoo was a disappointment. To begin with, it was extraordinarily tiny, but more importantly most of the animals featured—deer, wild turkey, raccoons—could be seen if you just sat in a Muskegon tree long enough. The most exotic offering consisted of some listless-looking monkeys in cages. A pack of adolescent boys thumped on their wire enclosures and screeched at them to perform. “Pick on someone your own size!” he yelled at them, and they scattered. The monkeys blinked back at him, not seeming to care one way or the other. 

He did have dinner with Joe that night at the Italian Restaurant in the Julius Hotel. As Buster tucked into his truffle tagliatelle, Joe dropped the bomb. 

“We can’t have the flood sequence.”

Buster laughed. “It sounded like you just said ‘We can’t have the flood sequence,’ Joe, but I don’t think I heard you right,” he said, and took a bite of tagliatelle. “Good one, though.”

“I’m not kidding. Think about how it’ll look. You’ve got a river that’s supposed to be the Mississippi—”

“Sacrasippi,” Buster said, lifting his eyebrows.

“Cut it out,” said Joe, frowning. “I’m trying to be serious. You’ve got a river that’s supposed to be the Mississippi and it’s supposed to flood. Well, you know as well as I do that hundreds of people just lost their lives in the Mississippi floods.”

“Since when do you care?” said Buster. If there was one thing he’d always liked about Joe, it was that he let him alone and let him make the pictures his own way. Something about this smelled fishy.

“It’s in poor taste. It’s not going to get laughs, it’s just going to bring bad publicity. I don’t want it to flop. There’s too much money in it.”

Buster set down his fork. Two words had stuck out: publicity and money. “This is Harry, isn’t it?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

Joe gave a slight wave of his hand, dismissing the comment. “Now don’t go blaming Harry. I happen to agree with him. It would be a risky thing, and God knows what it would cost to pull it off anyway.”

“Well that god damn bean-counter,” said Buster, anger flaring. “We’ve already got everything set up for a flood! The entire god damn picture is about a flood. That’s the entire point!” Joe looked at him with a firm expression. “I’ve made up my mind. We can’t do a flood.”

“Well, we may as well can the whole picture then,” Buster said. “All my best gags are built around the flood. I can’t just start from scratch.”

“Look,” said Joe, continuing to eat his own meal. “We’re talking about lost lives here. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Horseshit,” said Buster. “Remember Chaplin’s picture Shoulder Arms? The ink wasn’t even dry on the Armistice when he released that. I remember ‘cause it was the first thing I saw after I got back from France. Everyone loved it. No one was thinking about how many soldiers had just gotten their heads and legs blown off in the war, they just knew a funny picture when they saw one.” He clenched his left fist in his lap. 

“Why not try another disaster?” Joe said.

“Like what?” he said. He stabbed at the pasta with his fork and took a bite without pleasure.

“I’m not the brains here.”

“What, like a cyclone? Joe, I bet you tornadoes and hurricanes kill more people each year than floods. Sure we wouldn’t get bad reviews and angry letters from folks whose families have been killed by tornadoes?”

Joe waved his hand again. “A cyclone sounds just fine. Anything that’s not a flood, you can do.”

It stunk to high heaven as far as Buster was concerned, but he knew Joe well enough to see when he’d made up his mind. He finished his tagliatelle in silence and didn’t even pretend he was willing to pick up the tab when Joe went to pay. He took a taxi back to the Senator and went to bed early, tossing between the sheets and stewing about his lost flood. There were butter cookies in the brown paper sack making dark greasy spots on its sides. Nelly stood outside Buster’s dressing room, her heart racing with the memory of what had happened last time she’d stepped inside it. Before she lost her nerve, she tapped on the door. 

“Come in!” called Buster. 

She slipped through and closed the door. He was sitting at his table again, not in costume today but wearing dark slacks and a long-sleeved blue jacquard shirt with faint stripes.

“Hi, it’s Nelly,” she said, by way of greeting. 

“I haven’t forgotten your name,” said Buster, one corner of his mouth quirking. “What do you have there?”

She stepped a few feet forward and extended the bag. “I made you cookies.”

He looked from the bag to her as he took it, surprised. “What did I do to deserve such an honor?”

“I heard you broke your nose,” she said. Indeed, she could see up close that his nose was swollen near the top and there were small faded bruises beneath his eyes, not noticeable unless you were next to him.

“So you baked me cookies.” He peeked inside. 

“Yes. I wanted to thank you, too,” she said, feeling the full ridiculousness of her gesture. “For taking care of me last Friday night.”

“No one’s ever made me get-well cookies before, not even my own mother. I’d just get cod-liver oil, even for sprains.” He sounded pleased.

“How’s your nose?” she said, as he bit into a cookie. 

“Hurts like the dickens,” he said, chewing. “I’m hoping the swelling will go down by Friday so I can start filming again.” He didn’t remark upon the cookie as he finished it, but she noticed he pulled another out of the bag. “We’re doing the night scenes soon.”

She was still a little fuzzy on Steamboat Bill’s plot, but this week’s filming had involved hundreds of local extras, and the grander of the two steamboats was piloted up and down the river, belching out huge plumes of black smoke. She’d taken a break to watch the spectacle. The crowd’s enthusiasm for the steamboat seemed real. The whole set certainly looked real thanks to all the props down by the riverside, the small boats, the large pennants reading KING, and the patriotic bunting draped on storefronts. Buster had been on hand near the cameras helping direct, but hadn’t noticed her in the throngs.

Buster went on. “I’ve got this publicity man who says I can’t have a flood because of the lives that were lost when the Mississippi flooded, so we’re changing everything up for a cyclone.” She marveled a little that he was telling her anything about the production, but tried not to show it. “I wondered what those airplane propellers and big motors Bert had me order were for,” she said. 

“These are good,” said Buster, pulling a third cookie from the bag. “Remind me to get hurt more often.”

“Or rescue foolish girls from themselves more often,” she said. 

“It was nothing,” he said. 

“It was something to me.” 

He considered her as he started on the third cookie. 

“Anyway, I already took lunch. I’ve got to get back to the shop,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. 

She had her hand on the door when he spoke up again. 

“Why that Shrew play, anyway? Why not Juliet?”

She turned back and looked at him, thoroughly confused. She had no idea how he knew about one of her dearest and closest ambitions.

He noticed her puzzlement and clarified. “You said your dream was to star in that Shrew play. Why? Why not Romeo and Juliet?”

“I don’t remember telling you that,” she said, feeling abashed

“Well, don’t get bent out of shape about it, I was just asking,” he said, a little defensively. 

“No, I’m not bent out of shape, I’m surprised,” she said, as she faced him. “I don’t remember saying that. I’m afraid of what else I, uh, might have said that night.” She cringed to think of what else might have come out of her mouth. “I hope I didn’t beg you for a break or anything.”

He regarded her with a calm expression. “You didn’t. I’d still like to know, though.”

“Well, Kate has a mind of her own. She wants to control her own fate. Marriage isn’t for her,” she said, conscious of how clumsy her words were. “She’s fun to play. Romeo and Juliet is a little boring.”

In truth, it was Katherine’s spirit which she loved, the rebellion against her father and Petruchio, and hang the end of the play. In her experience, the audience never remembered the end of the play, only the beginning and middle where Katherine was at her most defiant and fiery. 

Buster nodded, elbow on the table and finger sliding absently under his lip. The silence stretched on for long enough that Nelly said, “Anyway, I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks for the cookies,” Buster said.

Note: It’s easy when writing a fiction about Buster Keaton to cast Natalie Talmadge as a villain. I prefer to listen to Buster’s granddaughter Melissa Talmadge Cox who points out that the divorce is ancient history and that fans should get over it! Even though I’m writing a story that is obviously canon divergent, I always remember that Buster lived happily ever after with Eleanor Norris Keaton and considered himself to have had a lucky life with very few dark spots. Why did Natalie put a end to her sex life with the gorgeous, winsome Buster Keaton? I think the likeliest explanation is that she just wasn’t attracted to him or simply didn’t like sex. I do think Buster really loved her too and wanted things to work out, which is why their marriage lasted as long as it did. I’ve tried to convey that with this story. Also, I’m with Natalie. Trying to travel hours on a train with two young rambunctious boys sounds like a nightmare, even with a governess.  And yes, the Keaton governess was also named Connie, not to be confused with Constance “Connie” Talmadge, who was also frequently called Dutch. Finally, with a lot of digging through newspapers I learned that the date Buster broke his nose was July 30th, 1927! So the first scene takes place on the 31st. The second occurs on Wednesday, August 3rd.

[deadbonessinderhellaton]

People have such strange attitudes toward aliens.

@monsterkinkmeme

Based off of this prompt.

Rating: G/Citrus

Characters: Female character x female alien, there’s a nosy coworker being nosy too.

Summary: Every time that Abby tells her coworkers about the vacations to far off places that her girlfriend takes her to, they always panic and start throwing the word ‘abduction’ around. 

Warnings: Police mention, kidnapping mention, but I promise that nothing bad happens except for a passive aggressive coworker trying and failing to be obnoxious, I should also let you know that the alien gf only shows up near the end as a text, but she’s the focus of the two characters’ conversation.

ao3

~~~

“So let me get this straight: last Saturday, an alien abducted you and took you to Pluto.”

Abby shook her head yes as she sipped her cup of water. “Yeah, just last week. Saalgaax and I had been planning a long weekend there for a while now.” She looked up, lost in thought. “I could have sworn I told you after I sent in my time off form,” she started in her slow, languid tone. “But then again, maybe I forgot to.” She was almost positive that everyone in her office knew that she and Saalgaax were dating. Then again, it was a big office - the Agency of Intergalactic Relations needed the space. From negotiating peace treaties between species to coordinating PR events, the Agency oversaw everything related to every way that humans and extraterrestrials could interact with each other. With her serving as one of the Agency’s Investigators, and Saalgaax on the Intergalactic Defense Force, there was no way the Agency couldn’t be aware of their relationship.

Lowry sighed. “Maybe I can make myself a little clearer for you,” she said. “Saalgaax the Deathbringer - the six foot, purple, multi-armed, musclebound alien who destroyed the black hole that was threatening the Great Magellanic Cloud - took you, a person to Pluto, a planet that is not Earth, in her large alien spaceship. That’s not a vacation, that’s an abduction from straight out of the movies.”

Abby shot a glance at Lowry. Some had called it odd that the Regulations office manager was always hanging around the Investigation department instead of her own, or how she had other people do tasks for her instead of her direct reports, or the way she expressed interest in knowing as much as she could regarding staff’s private lives, but Abby figured that everyone had their own special way of relating to others, just like everyone else. Regardless, her confusion registered to Abby as a bit odd, considering their line of work. “If a willing person gets into a vehicle with another, it’s not an abduc-”

Lowry jabbed an accusatory finger into Abby’s face. “That’s not the point here. You said you were going on vacation with your girlfriend. You said nothing about being abducted by an alien and heading to a foreign planet.”

She leaned against the water cooler and groaned. “And there’s the rub. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Pluto’s beaches were beautiful, and Saalgaax and I had the best time there, it’s just that-” Abby paused, searching for the right words. “I was just so worried that I wasn’t giving her anything in return, you know? I mean, I only make so much money as an Investigator. Right now, I could never afford to buy her tickets to far off destinations, or jewelry made from Carloxian singing rock like she does for me.” Abby laughed nervously and pushed a curl behind her ear. “It made me feel like I was being a bit of a...a mooch.”

“You were worried,” Lowry said dryly. “About being a mooch.”

Abby nodded sadly. “Every good relationship needs equal give and take, you know? I told Saal that sometime after we got back last week.” A smile crept up her face. “And she was so sweet about it. She was all like, ‘Baby, you’re not freeloading, I’m doing this because I want to spend time with you at sickass places. That’s why I earn all that money destroying the black holes that threaten the galaxy - so I can spend my off time stretching out on a beautiful purple sand beach with the hottest girl this side of the Oort Cloud.’ And then,” she continued. “I got a little choked up and was all like, “Saalii, that is literally the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me, like the nicest thing, and that I’d be just as happy with her on a picnic blanket down at Forrester Park as I would be on a beach in Pluto, or anywhere else, really.’” She beamed at her coworker. “Is it not the nicest thing you’ve ever heard?”

Lowry rolled her eyes. “For someone in Investigation,” she said pityingly. “I’m surprised that you didn’t catch onto Saalgaax’s motives earlier. Maybe you’re suited to a better department?” She continued without waiting for Abby’s reply. “Taking you to other planets, buying you expensive gifts - that sounds an awful lot like she’s fattening you up for the slaughter, or-or bribing her way into your heart to learn Earth’s secrets so she can attack our planet.”

“That doesn’t really sound like her style, to be fair. She’s part of the IDF’s Black Hole Corps, so she’s more likely to blow up one of those than one of us.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began dialing, muttering under her breath the whole while. “Oh, she only blows up black holes, that gives me such confidence. You call this little charade whatever you want, but I’ll call it for what it really is.” She pressed her phone to her ear, lips squeezed thin with intent. “Hello, police? I’d like to report a kidnapping.”

Abby sighed wistfully, beaming at the memory. “You know, I knew Saal would say something like that, but hearing it from her, it just made sense, you know? I mean, yeah, she spends a lot of money on me, but everyone shows their love in different ways, and that’s hers.” She turned to look at Lowry. “We even talked a little bit about it, and she was all like ‘Baby, I can totally meet you in the middle. The Roberta Museum has a foreign film night on the lawn that you’d really like,’ and I got so excited because she remembered that I love foreign films.”

“Yeah, it was last Saturday, the 14th, around-” Lowry looked at Abby. “About what time did you leave last week?”

“Um...four o’ clock?”

“Four o’ clock, with a human woman by the name of Abigail Barthelemy being taken by a Saalgaax the Deathbri- why are you laughing?” A pause. “What do you mean, ‘everyone knows?’ Don’t you dare hang up on-”

The distant buzz of a dial tone echoed out from Lowry’s phone. With a snarl, she hung up and stomped away, muttering poisonously. Abby barely noticed - her own phone buzzed and sang out. She’d recognize the tone anywhere - she and Saalgaax had spent a night flipping through ringtones, singling out the ones that they liked and making fun of the truly terrible ones. The one that outranked its siblings - both in catchiness and cheesiness - was the ones that they set for each other’s notifications.

>>hey

>>thought about what u said last week about a picnic at forrester park.

Another text, this time accompanied by a photo of wine bottles on a grocery shelf.

>>how about u n me n a bottle of wine this sunday?

Abby couldn’t text back fast enough.

>> That sounds wonderful! I have just the right kind of cheese and crackers to go with it, too.

>> We can leave around three there, get there at four?

>>sounds perfect

>>its a date <3

~~~

Me: wow I have a lot of obligations to take care of huh

Also me: now’s a good time to write lesbian alien funtimes

[splendidshinobi]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 6-10

back at it again with the white vans

episode 6: the alchemy exam

alrighty then

um mustang calling edward “ed” is EXTREMELY offputting

ohhhhhhh noooooo not shou tucker

FUCK

im wholly unprepared

them all being in central instead of east is low key jarring like my brain isnt computing it

alexander’s intro is basically the same 

nina bbyyyyy girl u deserved so much better

ed is such a fucking nerd...chemistry club modern au confirmed

god the more tucker talks the more i wanna beat his face in

al pretending to eat by tossing a potato in his armor i-

aww theyre playing in the snow theyre so pure

wonder how long thatll last

“bigger brother” and “little big brother” and ed doesnt even get mad

ed’s birthday party????????

A MELON? ED YOURE SO RUDE

so 03 had ed’s bday instead of elicia’s...CAUSE THEY GOT ELICIA IN THE WOMB

“it’s here!” “the tea?” “the baby!” hughes is a fuck head

ok so now they’re having elicia replace rush valley baby arc

this was winry’s time to shine in fmab i miss her 

if winry isnt here who is gonna birth this baby

oh my god they just realized ed can use alchemy without a circle

no wonder he’s been using circles this whole time

SO ELICIA JUST POPPED OUT????? WHAT

STUFF ALEXANDER IN THE ARMOR AND PRETEND YOURE A TALKING DOG???

“i dont think thats very funny” NO ALPHONSE IT IS NOT

THEY KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THAT ONE I SWEAR TO GOD IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

damn bradley what up homie

im so thrown off by the way theyre doing the exam omg

seriously what the hell is fuhrer bradley’s purpose right now is he even the fuhrer in this i feel like they wouldve mentioned it

oh lord ed is about to impress everyone with his clappy hands

ok so next episode is nina FUCK

episode 7: night of the chimera’s cry

havoc babeeee

im gonna marry him my himbo king

also can RIZA DO SOMETHING PLZ

“huhhhhhhhh nina” ew tucker that was weirdly gross

wonder why

cant do it cant do it

do we think jean kirstein was modeled after jean havoc slightly looks wise

was that purposeful 

ill have to google 

serial killer who only targets women?  it cant be scar...scar drinks respect women juice

barry or slicer bros maybe? um ok

why did we start with liore if they were just gonna hop right back into the past for a huge chunk of episodes idk

assessment day??? oh noodles

AL WHY DID YOU TELL TUCKER TO MAKE ANOTHER TALKING CHIMERA ALPHONSE NO

THE NOISE I EMITTED IM GONNA TAKE A LAP

im gonna FUCKING SCREAM

ed r u writing to winry??? that’s a bit out of character for u good sir

no tucker put that baby down

im gonna fucking SCREAM

aww he burned nina’s picture thats not sus at all

SHESKA!!!!!

wait does the ironblood alchemist know what tucker did to his wife? thats kinda the vibe im getting

SCARRRRRRRR

looking like a pirate too damn

his voice sounds different is that j michael tatum 

apparently not it was dameon clarke in 03 ya learn something new everyday 

ew elicia has a lot of hair for a FUCKING NEWBORN

ed really is such a cynic very suspicious of everyone as he should be really

basque grand knowS SOMETHING

oh jesus oh fuck oh god please do not TOUCH THAT BABY

ed and al snuck back in to the house well u know what its for the best

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

im gonna cry again please god no

FUCKING DIE SHIT HOLE

she’s hurting? oh my god

my sweet angel

ew his eyes!!!!!!! 

tucker is such a fucking failure...like look at the chimera squad and greed’s theatre troupe being the way they are. ugh it really hits how fucking unfair it is 

ed was really about to split them? boy you know better

where is nina going...im hurting

ed really tried to save her in this one

SCAR KILLS NINA IN THE STREETS???????? SIR

thats different

oh snap 

oh FUCK

SCAR WHY DID YOU LEAVE HER BODY LIKE THAT

THE WAY SHE WAS ARRANGED ON THE WALL THAT WAS FUCKED UP

AND THEY FOUND HER LIKE THAT???? AT LEAST IN BROTHERHOOD THEY DIDNT HVE TO SEE HER CORPSE ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

that was fucked.

episode 8: the philosopher’s stone

can yall get ed and al away from nina’s fucking MURAL 

get out of the car mustang

finally jesus christ

roy mustang talking about healthy coping mechanisms dont make me laugh but alright baby boy go off i guess?

im curious about who this goddamn serial killer is though lets turn to that plot thread

r u kidding me

mustang is making ed and al take over tucker’s research?? thats actually wildly messed up

oh tucker was straight executed that’s a choice i guess

tucker and the philosopher’s stone sounds inaccurate but ok

ed please stop being mean to your brother

03 mustang has got me reaching for a fucking baseball bat on GOD

scar and edward having this conversation right now i literally cannot

WINRY yes bitch

BRADLEY WHAT IN TARNATION

JESUS LORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDD

alphonse shut your mouthhhhhhhhhhh

im so confused what is bradley up to

“alchemists are not cold blooded murderers?”

i mean

kimblee would beg to differ for one

whos this creepy lady 

her voice sounds familiar

barry’s food shop?

the killer is barry ok got it

IS BARRY DISGUISED AS A WOMAN

I KNEW THAT WAS JERRY JEWELL’S VOICE

WELL I KNEW IT SOUNDED FAMILIAR AT LEAST

WINRY GET OUT OF THE FUCKING TRUCk

has PINAKO TAUGHT YOU NOTHING

ok so i VASTLY prefer suit of armor original manga canon barry

this is such an odd plot what in fuck

um OW the meat cleaver

im so confused this fucking plotline

oh hey alphonse nice of you to show up!

is barry still gonna become a suit of armor later on

it makes NO SENSE to introduce him otherwise 

everytime i see 03 mustang i wanna beat his ass HONESTLY

literally i will shove my foot up his ass

fullmetal here we go

ed thinks he’s so punk rock 

oh great scar’s seen the watch

episode 9: be thou for the people

ed you simp buying winry all this stuff my edwin heart is ascending

SIMP SIMP SIMP

“mr. elric”?? you mean MAJOR ELRIC

to be fair though fuck the military

YOUSWELL??? oh LORD

im gonna need to read a full chronology of this show

 alphonse continues to be a precious angel 

where’s my boy yoki!!!!!

edward you idiot don’t go flaunting your money

woof woof ed

al looks so offended by ed saying they just met

whereas in brotherhood didnt he totally throw ed under the bus??? 

a choice to be sure

ah there he is hello yoki

who’s the chick

shes a lesbian

yoki makes me miss my baby girl mei chang

mei where r u

WAS THIS MILITARY DUDE REALLY ABOUT TO CUT DOWN A CHILD??? oh my god

hawkeye getting a promotion yes bby girl

jesus theyre transferring them to east now OKKKKKAY thats not how it happened it the book but ill take it....just doing it the opposite way i guess

who is lyra who is she

cute some military bribery 

umm lyra what the fuck did you do

lyra is a homunculus im callin it now

they definitely invented/changed up some homunculi in fact im certain they did and shes one of em. gotta be

i feel like 03 wrote ed as much more insensitive towards others than he really is...just a vibe im getting

i know he was faking for the townspeople’s sake but i still get this vibe from other instances 

i mean i cant say its not “canon” because its 03 canon

anyways what a show off

i cant believe theyre going to east...fuery and breda better be there

ok finally some answers on their ages....ed got his license at 12 like normal and nina and youswell were when he was 12...liore was 15, 

if they didnt flash the ages on the screen id be lost honestly

at least we’re back up to “present day”

episode 10: the phantom thief

ed saying he doesnt wanna see mustang

same

03 mustang is activating my fight or flight and im choosing fight

ed cheating at cards totally checks out

um who the fuck is this woman

what is she wearing

SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT CUTOUT MAAM HOW DO YOUR C**CHY LIPS NOT POKE OUT

idk but this is fem!hisoka

“hey shouldnt we talk first” after getting handcuffed??? christ almighty these innuendos

siren??????? siren is probably also a “fake” homunculus

ugh

ok so the nurse is siren

ya aint slick girly

alphonse control your crush

I REFUSE!!!! ALMEI RIGHTS

why is al’s hair so brown in this flashback anywayssss

oh its spelled psiren ope

like she’s literally a batman villain...

oh my god...............the tiddy grab. my son would never

my son is respectful

is this her homunculus tat or just a random alchemy tat

the added plotlines and original content continue to confuse and astound me every single time....

ok but if psiren really was doing this for the hospital she wouldnt be so flashy about it. like thats how you get caught sweet cheeks

girly stop flirting with this child on god im gonna fucking kick you

now shes a nun????????????????

Shes a fucking troll i hate her

im going to kick alphonse into the sun 

oh great now shes a teacher

wow shes a savior. the savior of amestrian venice. greatttttt

ed looking exactly like this emoji on this gondola rn 🧍‍♀️

STOP FLIRTING WITH THE CHILD 

GOD THIS IS SO BATMAN VILLAIN ESQUE

alphonse plzzzzzzzzzz she aint your girl

ok so probably not the last we see of this ding dong con artist

ok so its starting to get muddy. im scared the 03 stans are gonna come after me like i do like it and im having fun watching it but some of the plot and characterization choices are just....odd??? idk i gotta keep going though!! im sorry i just stan arakawa and her work in all her glory!!!

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 25 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hey kiddos! As always, thank you so much for any feedback. You’re the best. Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Long-distance brought challenges to many of our couples.  

This Chapter: In Milan, Trixie agonizes over being apart from Katya. But back home in New York, she’s finding support in Violet’s friendship — at least until Miss Fame throws a wrench in their plans. Elsewhere, Willam continues to work his charms, Adore gets an invitation she can’t refuse and Alaska learns some upsetting news.

***

“Guess who just got an extra round of shots because the bartender thought he had a chance? Me! 1 - 0 for the lesbian.” Pearl laughed as she dumped down next to Trixie, handing her friend a beer as she balanced her tray of free shots in her other hand.

“I love Italians. They’ll literally give you anything you want as long as you’ve got a pair of tits and a smile.”

Trixie looked at Pearl before he sighed and accepted the beer, his phone in his hand. He had been trying to call Katya all day, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get a hold of her beyond a few quick texts. He was just about to dial her number again when he felt a poke in his stomach.

“Ouch! Pearl, what the fuck?”

“Stop looking so sad! It’s contagious and you’re not allowed to be sad during Fashion Week, so how about you turn that frown upside down, we slam these and I’ll score us some free hotdogs on the way home!”

Pearl smiled, her entire face lit up as her eyebrows wiggled, her good mood making Trixie feel a little better.

“I don’t think they have hotdogs in Milan, Pearlie Girl.”

“Well, then pizza! Gelato! Whatever! Now put that phone away and take a shot with me like a man!”

Pearl was just about to grab the phone from Trixie’s hand, but he stopped her, a serious expression on his face.

“Katya hasn’t responded to any of my calls.”

“Well, if you’re so worried, just ask Violet? She’s such a control freak she probably has a written record of Katya’s last three meals and her sleep schedule.” Pearl leaned back in her chair, taking a long swig from her wine, people all around them moving back and forth, coming and going, but to Pearl they didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Trixie wasn’t going to party with her, and that wasn’t fair.

“Why are you always so mean to her, Pearlie?”

“I’m not mean, I’m perfectly reasonable.”

“If you say so.” Trixie sighed and crossed his arms, finally taking his first swig of the beer Pearl had gotten for him.

“Katya and I have never gone this long without talking. I haven’t heard from her in almost 24 hours.”

“Bro, let it go.” Pearl sighed, pulling a bit of her hair over her shoulder. “Katya is probably fine; you worry too much.”

“Tell that to my stomach.”

Pearl leaned over, a mischievous smile on her face before she placed both hands on Trixie’s tummy, talking to it as if he was a pregnant woman as she adopted a high-pitched baby voice.

“Hey sweetie, I know you’re confused right now, but don’t worry, you don’t have to worry about your mommy one bit, Auntie Pearl is right here ready to take care of you, and I know exactly what you need, which, is, shoooooots!”

Pearl sat up again, laughing hard when she saw the unhappy scowl on Trixie’s face.

“You’re the worst, Pearl, you know that, right?”

“The absolute worst.”

***

Trixie was in his hotel room, silently cursing Pearl as the blonde was off getting laid, the European chicks absolutely loving her.  Trixie however really needed a bro since he couldn’t get out of his clothes, too drunk for his hands to work properly, even if he had fought his way out of his shirt.

Fashion Week was like an endless party, and he couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been at least mildly buzzed or had gotten more than six hours of sleep.

Trixie was battling with getting out of his shoes, his pants already around his ankles as he heard his phone ring and he jumped for it right away, falling onto the bed and swiping right to pick up the call.

“Please be Katya, please be Katya, please be Katya!”

Trixie hadn’t realized he had said any of it out loud, until he heard Katya’s laugh on the other end of the phone, almost making him cry.

“Katya, oh God, it’s really you, I love you so much, please I want to grow old with you and get weird and wrinkly.”

“Are you drunk, baby?”

“Maybe a little.” Trixie looked down at himself: there were stains of pizza sauce on his stomach, and his pants were still around his legs, making it hard for him to move. “But none of that matters because now I’m talking to you! I miss you sooooooo much!”

“I miss you too, I’m sorry I haven’t called…”

“How are you? Are your students okay? How are you, how are you, how are you?”

Trixie was excitedly waiting for Katya’s reply, ready to hear all about how the most important person in his life was doing, but then there was nothing on the other end and Trixie had to check if his phone was actually on.

“Katya? Are you okay? Like… For reals?”

“I...I really fucked up last night,” Katya said, voice small and soft.

“What do you mean?” Trixie asked. “Are you okay?”

“I just...I really wanted a drink, and I thought Pearl might have something, and so I went into her room and I basically tore everything apart looking for a bottle-”

Trixie froze, his heart stopping at Katya’s words.

“I’m coming home right now.”

Trixie was already standing up, fighting with his pants, trying to get them on and then instead stepping out of them, grabbing his backpack, not caring that he was only wearing his underpants and his socks.

“No! Trix! Trix! Please wait.”

“No! I can’t wait! I have to come home!”

“Trixie, please, baby, listen! I didn’t find anything, okay? And like, after a couple of minutes, I was standing in the middle of this fucking mess, holding Pearl’s Hitachi in my hand, digging through her bottom drawer, and I realized how crazy I must have looked.” She let out a dry chuckle.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny. And anyway, I’m okay. I saw Sasha after school today, and then I came home and cleaned everything up. I’m sorry for making you worry...”

Trixie stopped, listening to Katya’s words. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay… I promise. I talked to Violet, and we’re gonna have a slumber party this week, so don’t worry. You don’t have to come home, everything is fine.”

Trixie fell back into bed, the sudden burst of energy only making him more nauseous, the entire room spinning.

“What did Sasha say?” Trixie liked Katya’s therapist. She was calm and warm and extremely perceptive, with a lovely sense of humor. If she thought Katya was okay, then he’d feel a hell of a lot better.

“She thinks that I’m being too hard on myself, and that I just need to try and relax. Which is what I’m doing now. I’m in the bathtub.”

“So...then you’re really okay?” asked Trixie.

“I’m really okay.”

“And you’ll tell me if you’re not?”

“I’ll tell you if I’m not,” Katya echoed.

“Promise?” Trixie asked, sniffling.

“I promise. I love you, baby.”

“I love you too. So, so much.”

***

“So...you gonna tell me why you’ve been pouting all night?” Bianca asked, reaching across the table to stab a penne off Adore’s plate.

“I am not!” Adore said, mouth turning down even more as she screwed up her face.

“Are too,” Bianca said, imitating her childish tone. “What gives?”

Adore scoffed, pushing the pasta around on her plate, making trails of vodka sauce.

“Well…”

“Out with it! Time is money!” Bianca barked.

“Oh sorry, do you have another appointment after this?” Adore asked, taking a big swig of her wine.

“As a matter of fact…” Bianca grinned wickedly, dimples deep in her cheeks.

“That Derrick girl again?”

“No, that’s over,” Bianca said, taking a bite of her salad. “But I met someone at the Michael Kors show, and she’s coming over later.”

The girl from the MK show was a stunning model who she’d previously featured in a couple of editorials for the magazine. A very resourceful young lady, who’d been all too happy to express her gratitude in the back of Bianca’s limo after the reception. But Adore didn’t need those details.

“Ugh, great. I can’t even get a call back, and my big sister’s having late night booty calls.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, kiddo. I’ve been having late night booty calls since you were in diapers.”

Adore heaved a big, put-upon sigh.

“So...who’s not calling you back?” Bianca asked.

“No one…”

“Uh-huh.” Bianca took a sip of wine. White, so as not to stain her mouth before the aforementioned booty call. “Anyone I know?”

“Maybe.” Adore stuffed a piece of garlic bread into her mouth.

“Are you not telling me because you know I’ll disapprove?”

“...maybe.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. "Why can't you date someone who's not an asshole?"

“She’s not an asshole. At least, I don’t think she is. She’s just busy. She’s in Milan this week, I think.”

“Eww,” Bianca’s face scrunched up in disgust.  “She works in fashion?”

“You work in fashion.”

“Exactly! That’s how I know,” Bianca said.

“Whatever,” Adore said, face still a stormcloud.

“Listen...why don’t you come with me to Paris next week? It’ll be fun, and you can meet a sexy French girl to help you forget about whatever bitch is treating you like shit.”

“Are you serious?” Adore asked.

“Yeah, why not? I mean, when you’re not whining, you’re pretty decent company.”

“Awww, thanks, B!” Adore scrambled over to Bianca’s side of the booth and threw her arms around her neck. “We’re flying first, right? With lie-flat seats?”

“Is there any other way to fly?” Bianca replied with a wink.

“I love you, you bougie cunt,” Adore giggled.

“Shut up and eat your dinner, punk.”

***

“Hey Jinkx?”

“Mmh?”

Alaska smiled at the redhead in front of her. Alaska and Jinkx were in Alaska’s office, the remains of their lunch in a trashcan, two cups of tea on her desk as the two friends sat in Alaska’s plush chairs, the computer playing one of Lily Allen’s first albums.

“Why did the blonde put lipstick on her forehead?”

“Why?” Jinkx cracked an eye open. Alaska was slowly working on filling in the other woman’s eyebrows. Jinkx had texted Alaska that morning, asking her friend if she would help her with her makeup for a theater reception she was going to later that day.

“She was trying to make, up, her mind.”

“Oh my God!”

Alaska wheezed as tears gathered in her eyes at the look of absolute outrage on Jinkx’s face. Jinkx’s anger was always the funniest thing and a true testament to her skills as a pun master, which was why Alaska continued to tease her red-haired friend.

Alaska picked up her brushes again and began to work on  Jinkx’s eyes, slowly covering her lids with shades of gold to compliment her warm brown eyes before moving on to liner.

Alaska had always found Jinkx beautiful: she loved the small gap in Jinkx’s front teeth, loved her soft red curls and round cheeks, loved the cute little cleft in Jinkx’s chin that she knew the other woman was incredibly self-conscious about.

Alaska ran a hand down Jinkx’s face, gently caressing the other’s cheek as she waited for the lash glue to get tacky, enjoying how doing the other’s makeup gave her an excuse to touch her. There was a comfortable silence while she worked, touching her up here and there before finally fixing her lashes on. Finally, Alaska drew back, satisfied with the final look.  

“There,” she said. “Absolutely stunning, don’t you think?”

Jinkx opened her eyes and looked in the mirror she was holding up. When her face broke into a bright smile, Alaska couldn’t help but feel warm all over.

“I look amazing! You’re a genius, Lasky.”

“Don’t mention it!”

“No, do mention it.” Jinkx grabbed Alaska’s hand which made a jolt go through the blonde’s body, Jinkx looking Alaska straight in the eyes.

“You’re a true artist, a great artist.”

Alaska was just about to open her mouth, just about to say what was on her mind, when the door to her office opened, Jinkx released her hand and Alaska felt her heart drop.

“Hey Alaska, are you in here? Kim didn’t know if you were back from your lunch.”

Alaska looked up to see Ivy peeking in through the door, a big stack of boxes in her hand.

“Oh!” Ivy looked back and forth between the two women, an apologetic smile on her face as soon as she realized she had walked in on something. “I’m sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I’ll just leave these with Kim and call you later!” Ivy flashed one last bright smile before she closed the door behind her.

“Jinkx… There’s something I have to… Jinkx, are you listening to me?”

Jinkx was still looking at the door where Ivy had just left, her face flushed as she was practically staring.

“That… That was her, that was her, the girl I’ve been telling you about, that was the angel from Fashion Week who waved at me! You have to tell me her name!”

Alaska felt her stomach drop all the way to the floor. Fuck.

***

ADORE: Hey

ADORE: Hope ur having fun in Milano.

ADORE: So, I’m gonna be in Paris next week with my sister. Maybe we can chill

ADORE: Or, you know, whatever

PEARL: Sounds cool ;)

Adore clutched the phone to her chest, curled in bed, nearly giddy with happiness. She didn’t care that Pearl was playing a bit hard to get. All she cared about was that they were about to be together for a week in the most romantic city in the world.

***

“Cheers,” Courtney said, holding up her glass with a grin.

“Cheers…” Willam clinked his glass with hers. They were sitting together in a cozy booth for a rare mid-week date. Apparently, with Miss Fame in Europe, Courtney was expected to be at the office before dawn, but the upside was that she got to leave a little early in the evenings.

Willam certainly wasn’t complaining. Playing the doting boyfriend via text was tough--he was constantly second-guessing himself and could never tell how she was responding. He felt better in person, where he could see Courtney’s physical reactions to the things he said. Really putting those improv classes in college to excellent use.

The good news was, he was pretty damn sure that he had her, hook line and sinker. The way her eyes glittered in the candlelight, the way she slid closer to him, tilting her chin up…

Shit.

Willam knew that when he came up with this plan, that he’d eventually have to touch a girl. But he was really trying to postpone it as much as possible.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, making Courtney jump slightly. “I just got a great idea!”

“What?” Courtney asked, head tilted coyly.

“I have this friend from college, Sam, who runs an open mic night in the village. We should go. You should sing something!”

“I’m...how did you know I sing?” Courtney asked.

“Uh, I heard you last Saturday, singing along at the concert. You have an amazing voice,” Willam said. He flashed a big smile at her for good measure.

“Oh,” Courtney said, looking up at him with starry eyes. “Really?”

God, she was so easy. Her dream of being a recording artist was just about the most obvious thing in the world for anyone with her FaceBook profile. He’d barely needed to research at all to figure that one out.

“Absolutely,” Willam said. “I think you’re a star.”

Courtney took a long sip of her wine, deep in thought.

“You know, the truth is…” Courtney paused, biting her lip. “Ummm…”

“What? You can tell me,” Willam assured her, taking one her her hands in his. The sad reality was that in order to have any chance at something juicy about Galactica, he had to listen to a lot of crap. Because Courtney loved to talk, maybe more than anyone he’d ever met.

“Well, when I first got to New York, I had this idea that I was gonna get a part in a Broadway show, or...or some other job as a singer. I went on all these open calls. Every single one I could. Broadway, music videos, back-up singers, anything. But…”

“Yeah? What happened?”

Courtney deflated, her eyes cloudy with tears as she shook her head.

“Nothing happened. I never got past the first rounds, never made it to the real auditions. One of the dance captains pulled me aside one day and said that if I wanted to be competitive, I needed way more dance lessons. So I’ve been trying to do that, but it’s really expensive and ever since I started at this Galactica job, it’s even harder to make it work with my schedule. And I mean, I still write music and I still want to be a singer or an actress someday but…”

“It’ll happen,” Willam said kindly, patting her on the shoulder. “You gotta believe in yourself.”

“I don’t know.” Courtney’s shoulders sagged, eyes big and sad as she gazed up at him, lip trembling. “I’ve never told anyone this, but sometimes...sometimes I worry that if I was really talented enough, something would already have happened. You know? Maybe...maybe I’m just not good enough. Maybe I’ll never be good enough.”

Willam cleared his throat. Shit, what the fuck was he supposed to say to all that?

“Listen,” he began. “You are destined for amazing things; I know it. You just gotta keep going, keep trying, and someday, everyone will see the greatness that I do. I swear it.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” Willam promised, watching her eyes tear up some more. “Now, come on. Let’s get over to that open mic and show them what a real superstar looks like.”

“You know...I’ve never dated anyone as supportive and kind as you…” Courtney said, twirling her wine glass.

Willam smiled again, trying to push down the guilty feeling creeping into his stomach. This would be a lot easier if she wasn’t so damn sweet.

“Well...you deserve it, babe.”

***

“Sit still.”

“I am-” Katya smiled, wiggling her fingers again, the nail polish wand hitting her skin.

“Katya!” Violet gasped. “Look at your hand-” Violet reached for a cotton ball, gently removing the polish, the cold liquid feeling nice.

“Sorry.” Katya smirked. She knew it wasn’t very kind of her, but it was impossible not to mess at least a little with Violet.

The two of them were sitting on her couch, both of them in pajamas, Katya’s hand resting on Violet’s knee as she was slowly and carefully painting her nails a deep red.

They had eaten dinner together, Violet letting Katya pick a movie without any fight at all, which Katya had found a little weird. Normally it took hours of negotiation to get anyone to watch ‘The Princess Bride’, but Violet had simply agreed right away, almost like she didn’t have an opinion on it.

“You’re not sorry at all-” Violet giggled, and Katya felt her heart warm at the sound.

“I’m not.” It felt a little wrong to tease Violet, but the other took obvious delight in it, so Katya didn’t feel too bad. She was grateful that Violet had agreed to this little sleepover, spending time with a friend so much better than being alone.

It wasn’t that Katya couldn’t be on her own, wasn’t that she was incapable of keeping her demons down, but it was easier with someone around, easier to focus on Violet and her smile, the other woman absolutely hilarious in her dry commentary and snarky sense of humor.

Katya didn’t like her apartment being empty, couldn’t find peace when there wasn’t the putter of others around her. It was part of the reason she had never kicked up a fuss about the fact that Pearl still lived with them. It made her feel calm when she could hear Pearl in the kitchen, when there was the clink of beers in the living room when her and Trixie played games together, even Pearl’s parade of girls had their own strange comfort.

Usually, with the Galactica team in Europe, she’d have relied more on Kim and Shangela. But with Kim working on a commercial for the new makeup line and Shangie distracted by the honeymoon bliss of a new relationship, she really would have been alone had it not been for Violet.

“Maybe you should choose the next movie,” Katya offered. “What do you want to watch? What’s your favorite?”

“Let’s just watch whatever you want,” Violet smiled, “I don’t mind.”

Katya leaned against Violet’s shoulder. She was a strange little bird, indeed. But Katya was infinitely happy to have found her.

***

“Hello?”

Violet tried to not croak, her voice heavy with sleep. She had no idea what time it was. She was sleeping in Katya’s bed with the blonde’s head resting on her shoulder. When she attempted to make her exit last night, Katya had looked like a kicked puppy, so she decided to stay in spite of it being a work night.

“Violet?!”

Violet sat up, Katya making a surprised noise as she was unceremoniously dumped down on the bed.

“Miss? Is everything alright?” Violet was completely awake, adrenaline coursing through her blood.

“The breakfast at this hotel is absolutely horrid. They gave me what is clearly a kale juice when I specifically requested spinach.”

“I’m sorry Miss,” Violet swallowed, Fame sounding genuinely upset. “I’ll call the concierge immediately, do you want me to-”

“I don’t want you to call anyone.”

“Oh? Umh, should I email-”

“No. I want you to pack your things-”

Violet froze, wondering for a moment if Fame was going to fire her over a mistake a chef in Italy had made.

“Book yourself a flight, and meet me in Paris.”

“Paris-  How?”

“Figure it out.”

Violet couldn’t believe what she had just heard, but before she could even finish her sentence, Fame had hung up, the phone beeping in her ear.

“Shit.” Violet looked down, Katya lying next to her, the blonde wide awake.

“Katya?” Violet reached out, gently touching Katya’s hair.

“Mmh?”

Violet could see that Katya was trying to be brave, what little she could see in the shadows of night painted with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Fine. I’m totally fine. Super fine.”

“Katya-” Violet wasn’t the most emotionally observant person, but Katya was clearly winding herself up, almost like she was afraid to lose it, and that was when she had an idea. “How difficult would it be for you to take a few days off?” Violet ran her hand through Katya’s hair.

“I could work something out, make sub plans-” Katya bit her lip. “Why?”

“Do you happen to speak French?”

[caspers-chibs-imagines]

Redemption

Summary 

Riley Teller and her son move back to Charming. When Riley returns however, she is faced with the fact that she had to take on her responsibilities as a mom better than before when they are apart of The Sons. Allies are made and maybe a little something more with a certain Scotsman.

____

Chapter Seventeen

Tommy waved me goodbye as he ran into his classroom and I smiled and waved back. When I felt that Tommy was safe within his school, I turned and walked back to my bike. I revved the engine and rode to Luanne's porn studio. Turns out we were now partnered with Luanne as a way to make clean money – so to speak. It would be a good cover if ATF came knocking again.

I cut the engine off as I parked outside next to Juice's and Chibs' bikes and took my helmet off to hang it on the handlebars. I walk into the studio and am met with the sounds of moans and various slapping noises as I make my way over to where Chibs and Juice sat watching Luanne direct one of her pornos.

"Big finish Lyla." Luanne calls and I lean on the arm of the couch as I watch the blonde from the hospital chug what was left in a bottle. She then rammed it up the man's arse, causing both Chibs and Juice to jump and flinch. I laugh at their reactions and then they stand up and applaud the performance.

"Great. Encore!" Chibs shouts and I roll my eyes at them as Luanne walks over to me.

"Hey baby." She greets me and pulls me into a hug.

"Hey Luanne," I return her greeting before pulling away and then point to the two men beside me. "They been good?"

"Best behaviour, lass." Chibs says and looks down at me with his cheeky grin. I roll my eyes at him and turn back to Luanne.

"What you think about that last one?" She asks me and I go to answer but can't find the right words.

"It was... something." I laugh and she laughs as well. She puts her arm around my shoulder and grins at me.

"You know, you could make a killing with those hips. Make me and you millions." She teases and Juice chokes on the chips that he had been eating.

"Luanne, I love you. But if I ever come in here asking for a job, call the police." I deadpan and she laughs before storming over to one of her actors. I turn back to Chibs and Juice who were both snickering to themselves.

"What's so funny, Scotsman?" I ask as I crash down between the pair on the couch.

"Nothing." He replies and leans back onto the couch and throws his arm around me.

"Just funny that Luanne would want you to do porn." Juice snickers and I glare at him.

"Think I couldn't do it, Juice?" I deadpan him. He looks at me and his smile drops as he struggles to come up with an answer.

"No! Yes! I mean you could totally do a porno. Wait, I mean if you wanted to do one then..." He trails off and I burst out laughing at him and pat him on the shoulder.

"Juice, it's fine." I say and wipe away the tears that had formed from my laughter. He laughs nervously before he says that he was going to go watch the lesbians and gets up – leaving me and Chibs alone on the couch.

"Wouldn' let ya near another man," Chibs leans down to my ear as he speaks. "But maybe watchin' ya with a woman." I slap him on his chest, and he leans back into his seat laughing.

"Wouldn't be the first time." I say and look over at one of the scenes before me of a man and a woman currently going through foreplay.

"Wait." Chibs says. He looks down at me and I give him a smile before getting up to go get a drink from the breakroom. I pick up a bottle of water and turn around to see Chibs closing the door behind himself.

"Ya mean to tell me that ya slept with another woman?" He asks as he walks over to me as I drink from the bottle of water. I nod my head and his jaw hangs open.

"Either put a tit in that mouth or close it, Filip." I tease him and he shakes himself back to reality. His eyes become dark as he grabs my hips as I put the bottle down and put my hands on his chest.

"Ya full of lil' surprises ain't ya?" He chuckles before I pull him down and press my lips to his. He uses his arm and wipes everything off the table behind me and lifts me onto the table. I pull away from him and giggle.

"You really going to fuck me in a porn studio?" I ask as he pulls my kutte off my shoulders.

"Ya complainin'?" He raises an eyebrow at me, and I shake my head before beginning to undo the buttons his jeans. As we both go to move together again, we hear Luanne start shouting for us. Chibs groans and rests his head on my shoulder.

"Guess we better save this for later." I sigh and pull my kutte back on my shoulders and Chibs moves to fix his jeans and himself within them. We walk out of the breakroom and see Luanne going mad as Bobby stands in her office.

"Oh shit." I mutter as I watch Luanne losing her shit. "Call Jax." I tell Chibs before walking over to Luanne as she walks out of the office. She sees me and storms right over as I meet her halfway.

"What the hell, Riley?! I'm being pushed out of my own business!" She snaps at me and I look over to Bobby as Chibs walks into the office on the phone.

"What are you talking about Luanne?" I ask.

"Bobby has been put on the books. What can't I be trusted to run my own company?" She frowns at me and I sigh as I run my hand through my hair. I had to come up with a solution for all of this. "I've got about three pornos to shoot in the next two hours and anal rain dance later. And get that all edited by the end of the day."

"Well think of it this way." I start and she stops ranting for a second. "Bobby taking care of that gives you the free time to do the important things. So, you don't have to worry about everything on your own." I assure her. She nods her head and calms down.

"The hell is an anal rain dance?"

***

Jax had arrived after I had helped Luanne out with sorting through some of the things that Bobby would deal with. I turn to him and hug him.

"The hell's going on?" He asks and pulls away from me.

"Clay put Bobby onto the books, don't worry I calmed Luanne down. Handled it all for you." I reply and he smiles at me.

"Good. About time you started using your head." He chuckles and I roll my eyes at him. Tara runs in and I tap him to turn around. She comes over to us and grabs Jax.

"Your mom is outside." She says and I knew this couldn't be good news. I run outside with them and see Clay was hitting the hood of mom's SUV. Mom was screaming at Clay who turned on her and yelled back at her.

"Go on then. Hit me! I'll slit your goddamned throat!" Mom screams at him and then turns around. When Clay's hands grab her, I'm instantly running over to them to break it up. "No! Don't... Don't you touch me." Mom whimpers as I push Clay off her. She starts to break down and I move to her side. I hold my hands out in front of me as I approach her. She jumps a little before she grabs my hand and I move to pull her into a hug. I look over her shoulder at Clay and glare at him. He frowns at me and I pull away from mom to take her inside.

***

I took mom back to the garage after she spoke with Luanne and was currently sat with Tommy on the couch.

"Grandma?" Tommy says as he gets up to give her the little present, he had made her in school.

"Yeah baby." She smiles at him. He holds up the little card with a giant heart drawn on the front. "What's this?"

"I made it for you. Mommy said that you weren't happy." Tommy says and he helps her open the card. "See. That's you, mommy and me." He points to the little stick people he had drew. All of them had big smiles on their circular heads. Mom looks at her grandson and for the first time in weeks, I saw a genuine happy smile grace her face.

"How about, you and grandma have a sleepover tonight?" Mom says as she looks down at Tommy – who lights up as though it was Christmas.

"Really?" He cheers and then looks over to me. "Can I mommy, can I?" He asks and I nod my head. He jumps with joy and mom laughs at him as I do too. There was a knock at the door, and I turned around to see it was Chibs.

"Chibby!" Tommy cheered as he ran him and was caught in Chibs' arms.

"Lil' man!" Chibs cheered back at him, Tommy giggling as he hugged him. Mom gave me a look and I shrugged my shoulders at her. "Do me a big favour, go get uncle Tig." Chibs says to Tommy and sets him down on his feet. Tommy then sets off to go get Tig who had just come out of the clubhouse and saw Tommy running at him.

"You pair told him that you're together?" Mom asks me and Chibs looks to me as I look to him. Both of us unable to give an answer. I knew that mom knew about us, but I didn't think she would come out with it right now.

"No." I reply and cross my arms over my chest. "It's too soon after George."

"He seems happy enough, sweetie." Mom tells me and puts her hands on her hips. "Didn't you just see the big smile he had for the old man."

"Mom it can't happen. Okay?" I snap and she looks a little startled at my outburst. "I'll bring Tommy's stuff to the house later." I tell her and then turn to Chibs. "We going or not?"

***

I stood behind a trailer with Tig, Chibs, Sack and Opie as we watched Juice approach one of Darby's dealers. When Juice brought him back over to us, Chibs and Opie grabbed him and kept his mouth covered.

"Where's Darby cooking?" Opie demanded from the dealer – who shook his head in response. I roll my eyes and put my foot over his junk.

"Let's see what your balls are made off." I say as I start to put pressure on them. He screams and nods his head and Opie uncovers his mouth. He tells us the location and I move off his balls and the others finish him off by hitting him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side, doll." Tig chuckles and I roll my eyes at him and go to get in the van that we rode here in.

***

Church was about as good as it gets. The vote was that we were to blow up Darby's meth house if Hale didn't come through with his side. After Jax got a call from Hale saying that the information wasn't right, we all got ready to head out. I said goodbye to Tommy as mom took him in her SUV to go back to hers. I had changed into my black hoodie, beanie, jeans and boots before I followed the others into the van.

I followed them as we walked up to the house. Jax stopped me and handed me a gun.

"Don't blow your foot off." He teases me and I roll my eyes at him. Clay orders for Tig and Chibs to go towards the house. I look up at the roof and see the two cameras that were watching the area around the house.

"Wait." I call to them and they turn around to me. "Cameras." I point the two out and then they pull their masks down over their faces. I didn't have a mask as everyone pulled one down their face, so I just pulled my beanie down to cover the top of my eyes more. When Opie tapped me on the shoulder, I looked up at him and then followed him around the back. He and I were going to be the ones that would blow this place to kingdom come once it was cleared out.

Opie handed me some explosive and I put them under the tiling on the building before we moved to go around the backdoor. We waiting until we heard the others start to fire their shotguns into the windows. Tig gave us the all clear to head inside. Opie passed me a couple of explosives and I planted them around the house before coming back to him.

"Where's the remote?" I ask him. He shakes his head before lighting the fuse. "Shit." I curse and make a run for the door. Opie left first and I followed him. Luckily, I was out of the building as it blew up to shit, the impact of the blast sending me falling forward into the ground.

I pushed my self up and groaned at the ringing in my ears. I stood up to see Jax had came over to me and was saying something, but I couldn't hear him over the ringing.

"Riley!" I jolt back as his shouts were suddenly clear as day.

"Okay!" I shout back and he shakes his head as we walk back to the van.

***

The wrap party was tonight at Luanne's studio. I had changed into a black button up shirt and threw on my kutte over it and kept my jeans and boots on as I rode over there alone. Everyone else had gone before me as I wanted to just have a quick shower before I got there.

Getting off my bike, I hang my helmet on the handlebars and head inside. There were porn stars everywhere and most of the club members were enjoying themselves with the company of one or two of these women. I grabbed myself a beer and was drinking from the bottle as I turned a corner and saw him.

He was sat with one of the many women in here on his lap. He seemed very interested in her tits that were being waved in his face by the sweetbutt on his lap. He looked over at me and he smirked at me. Well two could play at this game he was trying with me.

After a while, I had drunk enough to get me onto a sort of high as I sat with one of Luanne's girls. She had come over to me after seeing I was alone and was offering to keep me company and that's when my eyes drifted over to Chibs as he watched me. I smirked back at him before turning my attention back to the brunette beside me. I put my hand under her chin, and she leant forward to connect her lips to my own. My hand moved from under her chin to the back of her head to keep her against me as my tongue glided into her mouth and she welcomed me in.

I looked past her and to Chibs, who had forgotten about the woman on his lap and was solely watching me. I turned my attention back to the woman I was currently making out with, letting my other hand reach over and start to trail up her thigh.

Before I was able to make it to her ass, my elbow was being grabbed and I was being pulled to my feet. Chibs dragged me into a filing room and slammed the door behind us before letting me go.

"The hell ya think ya playin' at?" He demands he glares down at me.

"Me?!" I raise my voice. "Let's not forget your little sweetbutt that was all over you when I came in!" I snap at him and his jaw clenches.

"Who are ya talkin' to?!" He shouts and pushes me back by my shoulders. My hand comes against his cheek hard and a very loud slap is heard. Chibs turns his head back to me and I give in.

I move forward and grab his kutte as I press my lips to his. He immediately responds and pushes me back into the filing cabinets behind me. He moves my hands off him as his own hands rip open my shirt, sending some of the buttons to other side of the room. He leans down and bites down on the skin between my throat and collar bone as my hands move to unbuckle his belt.

Within seconds, my jeans are gone, and his jeans and boxers are around his ankles. He lifts me up and thrusts into me and I moan at the force he uses. My hands grip his shoulders for support and as he relentlessly pounds into me and grunts into my neck. His hold on my hip bruising my skin and his teeth leaving bites along my collar bone as I rode out the frustration and the pure bliss he was giving to me.

I threw my head back with a moan as I came to that familiar high and crumbled in his arms as he groaned and found his own release with me.

[wangjiplayingwangji]

Hello! I hope your final project is going well! 5, 42 and 46 for the mdzs ask game

Oh thank you!!! Finals are finals aha, I’ll hopefully be all done by next week and finally be able to draw again! And thank you for your ask!! Let’s seeeee

5: Biggest WTF moment

Spoiler!!

But probably NHS reveal as the mastermind. God it so fuckin good I wasn’t ready for it AT ALL. I ready through the scene like 3 times just thinking to myself “no, no way they can’t be insinuating what I think they are I will SCREAM.” It’s just so good I love the twist of it all and everything just *chefs kiss* 👌

42: Favorite female character

Oof a toughy. Because I just love when, woman, *waves generally because they exist and I love them*. Hmmm, for the novel probably a tie between wen Qing and mianmian. I adore the healthy love/hate dynamic between WQ and WWX. I know she’s kinda the default answer as one of the few female characters that’s gets a lot of screen time but she is a great character none the less. She’s fleshed out, strong independent and well respected in her field and seen as one of the best doctors of the cultivation world. She also has lesbian vibes and we Stan. Next mian mian for a lot of the same reasons, but also that she’s just like “fuck you just because I’m a woman doesn’t make I don’t have a brain” and we love that. Also I feel like she and lwj just would simply vibe well as the most prominent “wwx is good” fanclub members and I love the chaotic bi energy she and wwx would give off together. I wish she got more attention, she deserves it.

For the untamed I feel like my fav would be Jiang Yanli. She just got so much more screen time and really glowed in it. I loved her sibling interactions with her two idiots. Her scenes with JZX are so sweet and cute I love them so much. The scene at Phoenix mountain had me SCREECHING. I know part of it is to give the actors more screen time to make it worth the studios money but instead of her extra scenes feelings forced or her going to gusu feeling meh it made me really feel for her character and love her so much more. She deserved so much.

46: Favorite fanfic/ a fanfic you’d like to recommend.

Ooof nice, fanfic Fav would beeeee probably “Until it’s Dark” by Suzvoy on AO3. It’s such a beautifully written story and paced perfectly I read it at least every two weeks I love it so much. My favorite fics are canon divergence because I like reading things that can happen in verse/post verse and this is something I can see absolutely happening in another timeline. The characterizations are perfect the slow burn of it feel sweet and natural and it’s just UGH. So good. I’d definitely check it out.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771577?view_full_work=true

A fanfic I’d recommend because I’m the worst is one I’ve been working on for a few months now between life and stress. It’s a Post canon xicheng fic. Actually my first in the fandom and first thing I’ve written for quite a few years. I’ve worked very hard on it and it’s currently on a small hiatus until finals are over but I’m very proud of it anddddd yeah check it out if you want to idk djfbf don’t feel obligated too ofc!! Xicheng isn’t for everybody and I feel kinda scummy throwing my bs into this but too late now 👀👉👈

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24286225/chapters/58537525

Anywayyyy thank you for your ask as always!!! I’m glad I got to answer these eheh!! <333

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 15 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul makes Gene an offer on getting rid of the curse.

            He sat there on the mattress for longer than he needed to, staring at his hands, gaze traveling up his wrists to his forearms to his shoulders, sloping down dully from there to his cleavage. Assessing the same damages he’d gotten accustomed to over the last seven days. But it was different now. It wasn’t an effort at calming himself down the way it had been at first, a bizarre sort of compare and contrast. Reassurance that he wasn’t completely unrecognizable, if only to himself. He hadn’t been male model material as a guy; he wasn’t Playboy material as a girl. Same moles, same scars, same bad chin. Top-heavy like he’d always been. Basically devoid of a waistline like he’d always been. All the old hated imperfections had carried over, right down to the microtia. It had been a cold comfort then, but now he was ticking off each flaw as another demerit, another reason he might get turned down at the pass.

            Intellectually, none of that was going to make a difference. It didn’t take much for girls, if they wanted it. Not looks, not money, not anything. It wouldn’t take much for him. He could get laid. It wouldn’t even be the first time he’d fooled around with another guy.

            It wouldn’t even be the first time he’d fooled around with another guy while he was like this.

            The door opened without warning. Paul jerked back on the mattress, scrambling unsteadily to his feet, expecting it to be Carol standing there, come back to throw another couple bitter words his way, or a drunken VIP.

            “Paul?”

            Instead, it was Ace. He was sweaty, with his shirt disheveled, belt and fly undone, hair slightly matted. No underwear, which wasn’t surprising, but the sum total wasn’t a sight he’d seen in awhile. He must have been in one of the other rooms earlier.

            “Hey.”

            Ace did a bit of a double-take at the sight of him, eyes lingering on his chest before he seemed to right himself again, stepping fully into the room.

            “Hey, listen, I saw a chick with freckles coming out of here crying, was that her?”

            That sounded about right. Paul’s stomach curdled.

            “Yeah. I just talked to her.”

            “But you’re not back.” Ace had his hands out, gesturing towards his own imaginary breasts as if he needed to. Maybe he thought Carol had cursed him into thinking he was normal again. “She didn’t turn you back.”

            “No kidding.”

            “What the hell did you tell her, man?” Ace paused. “What the hell did you do to her, anyway?”

            “Nothing.”

            “’M not buying it. She’s got Paul Stanley, Junior in the fucking crib at home, and she’s mad he ain’t got your eyes.”

            “There’s no baby.” No use explaining it to Ace. He wouldn’t understand. Paul didn’t think he got it himself, not really. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

            Ace tilted his head.

            “Whatever. Her husband leave her after she fooled around with you, then?”

            “There’s no husband, either. I just hurt her, that’s all.”

            “Real specific. Well, if you won’t tell me…” Ace drifted off idly, yanking a hand through his hair. Paul was oddly grateful that Ace hadn’t bothered zipping his pants back up, not because he wanted a look at his dick, but because it was a weird bit of normalcy. A sign Ace actually saw him for who he was. “Do you wanna have me go after her? Fuck, Paulie, if she didn’t think you were gonna pay her enough to fix you, then I’ll—”

            “It’s not like that.” Paul clasped the watch on his forearm. Twenty minutes. He had all of two left. He didn’t want to stay here thinking about it. He didn’t want to tell Ace. “Look, she told me how. I’ll get it taken care of.”

            “But what’s she want you to do?”

            “I said I’ll get it taken care of.” He crossed the room, pushing past Ace to get to the door. “Ace, I’ve got to go.”

            “Jesus, is it that bad? Hang on there. Lemme get Peter and Gene, we’ll help you out, this isn’t all on you, y’know.”

            “It is all on me.”

            He could hear Ace fumbling to follow him, but Ace wasn’t fast at all. Ace was prone to stumble around even without heels or alcohol. He had to be loaded right now, loaded and tired from getting off. No way he’d stayed sober tonight for his sake. No way.

            But he didn’t have a reason for running from him. He wasn’t scared of Ace, just scared of what he represented. Another guy whose current livelihood now depended on Paul fucking someone. Anyone. It didn’t matter who. It shouldn’t matter who.

            Paul ran straight into the dance floor in a bid to get rid of him. A bid that worked. The crowd of writhing bodies swirled around him, enveloping him, a sick sea of warm arms. He had to shove at and past what felt like dozens of people, but Ace wasn’t behind him anymore. He couldn’t even hear Ace calling him over the blaring music.

            But that wouldn’t matter for long. Even if he fell or just got distracted, it wouldn’t take long for Ace to get back up to the VIP floor. He had to hurry. The blond doorman was back at the floor’s entrance, happy enough to let him past. Racing upstairs, he grabbed Gene, who looked pale and worried, tugging him by the sleeve.

            “Paul?”

            He took off the watch, putting it in Gene’s hand.

            “Let’s get out of here. I got what I needed.”

--

            Paul’s hand in his didn’t feel as comfortable as usual as they stepped out of Studio 54. He looked distant, harried. But every time Gene tried to push for an answer, he just shook his head and told him to wait. He rolled up the glass partition almost as soon as they got into the limo.

            “What did she say? She’s lifting it, isn’t she?”

            “She’s not lifting it. She’s having me do it.”

            Oh, no. They’d need those spellbooks and sigils after all. Gene’s heart thudded in his chest.

            “If we have to, then we have to.”

            “I have to, not you.” Weird how Paul was sounding both more and less like himself with every passing day. That old acerbic clip he’d first heard out of him at seventeen (“yeah, I write songs”) was inching back in. “It’s not that bad.”

            “So what do you have to do, then? Summon a demon or something? Pledge your soul to Satan?”

            Paul didn’t crack a smile.

            “No. I just have to sleep with somebody.”

            Gene raised his head.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

            “That’s it?”

            “That’s it.” A dry laugh. “I dunno. I guess you and the guys don’t have to worry about the tour now.”

            Gene let out a breath. That’s great was almost on his tongue. All right was a close second. But a look at Paul stopped him from either. For something so simple, so easy, he didn’t look happy about it. He didn’t even look relieved. He wasn’t wearing his usual distracting pout, either. He just looked… deflated, somehow. He looked like he’d just gotten stood up for senior prom.

            Maybe he just wanted approval. Bolstering-up. Gene’s lips were suddenly dry as he started up again.

            “What do you want to do?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “How do you want to get it taken care of?” Gene hesitated slightly, waiting on a suggestion that Paul wasn’t offering. Stupid to hope. Despite getting him off last night, despite the kissing earlier, Paul didn’t seem to be considering Gene as an option. Probably better for both of them, really. He’d have enough to sort out as it was once Paul got back to normal. “Pick some guy up at a bar tomorrow?”

            “Pick up some guy?” Paul repeated. He almost looked—offended, maybe even hurt.

            “Or… would a girl work?” Gene didn’t know if it would, but maybe that was the real source of Paul’s distress, the thought of having to get penetrated while he was like this. Maybe it made him feel vulnerable. Maybe he wanted to reclaim some of his masculinity before he actually had it back in the literal sense. God knew Gene had robbed him of plenty of autonomy without even meaning to, directing him on where to go every single day, making all the phone calls for him, buying his food, clothes, everything.

            Yeah, that was probably exactly what Paul wanted, to get to sleep with a woman again. It wouldn’t be that hard to orchestrate; there were plenty of lesbian bars around. He’d be safer picking up a girl than a guy. It might even be fun for him, a weird bit of fetishistic wish-fulfillment. Picturing Paul with another chick wasn’t a bad mental image, either. He’d probably be shy about it at first, lying down, tan nipples peaked, breasts heaving, as some pretty little thing pushed apart his thighs, lapping and sucking against his warm, slick folds, it—

            “I’d be a fucking lousy lay for any dyke right now.”

            “You would’ve been a lot lousier last Tuesday.”

            Paul looked away, shoulders slumping. He kept twisting the skirt portion of the dress between his hands, then staring at his hands, something Gene had never known him to do before. He had a myriad of other tics, like sticking his tongue past his teeth when he was nervous or trying to concentrate, but this wasn’t one of them.

            “I’m tired of going to clubs, Gene. And I’m tired of involving other people.”

            “Then…”

            “We could take care of it ourselves at home.”

            Gene’s mouth went dry. His dick, the perpetual traitor, was half-hard just at the thought of fucking him, his leather pants as unyielding as a vice trap. He shifted his legs, but it didn’t help. Not that it really mattered much. Paul still hadn’t glanced his way again.

            “You want to?”

            Paul was silent at first.

            “It-it makes more sense, doesn’t it? You’re right here. And I’m not stupid, I know you wanna—”

            “But do you want to?”

            “I wanna get back to normal.” Evasiveness too obvious to be believed. “I’ll let you. You’ve been wanting to this whole time, anyway, might as well get it out of the way.”

            He couldn’t argue with that. But there was something weird about the way Paul was putting it. Get it out of the way, like it was a chore. It hadn’t felt like a chore when he’d gotten him off prior. It sure as hell hadn’t felt like a chore to kiss Paul during the dance. Or to have Paul kiss back, eager and wanting, pressing up tight against him, trying so hard to leave no space between them. It hadn’t been a chore at all. He’d liked it. He’d liked it a whole lot.

            He’d thought they might sleep together if the curse lasted long enough. Had been within a hair’s breadth of suggesting it just before Paul saw Carol. But he’d figured there was a good chance they’d fall into it some afternoon or evening anyway, if not on the dance floor. Something banal and domestic. Laying around in bed turning into fooling around, turning into fucking, just as natural and uncomplicated as it would’ve gone with any girlfriend. Even more so. Gene hadn’t had a girlfriend in years that he hadn’t slept with long before she’d gotten the title.

Gene hadn’t really thought past that. But now, knowing that sleeping with Paul would end the curse entirely… it felt funny. Uncomfortable. Like it’d just thrown a wrench in the way everything was going. He’d still do it, sure, but combined with the way Paul was acting, it didn’t sit well.

He reached over, tapping Paul’s arm. Paul jerked a bit, turning to face him.

            “It’ll be good. Hey, we can even take a picture if you want.”

            “A picture?” Paul’s brows furrowed.

            “Yeah, for my photo albums.”

            He’d meant it as a joke. But Paul stiffened up in response, lips drawn in a tight line, and he turned his head towards the window.

            “Sorry. I didn’t—”

            “It’s fine.”

--

            The rest of the limo ride was quiet. He didn’t try to touch Paul any, no more reassuring taps or handholds. Not that it mattered. Something seemed to be already ruined.

            By the time the driver had stopped at Paul’s, Gene almost asked Paul if he’d changed his mind, or wanted to wait. He wouldn’t have blamed him any. But Paul’s mind seemed set. As soon as they were back in his house, Paul was stripping off his shoes and pantyhose in the foyer, tossing them on the floor. He was waiting on Gene, watching him with a gaze Gene couldn’t really read, as he tugged off his boots.

            “Give me just a second,” Gene protested. “We’ll get there.”

            “Okay.”

            Gene followed him to his room once he’d gotten rid of his boots and socks. He sat down on the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt, feeling weird about it—he didn’t normally strip completely when he slept with someone, and maybe Paul wouldn’t appreciate being treated any differently. Or maybe he would. Paul wasn’t so much as looking in his direction, sitting next to him on the bed’s edge, hair gathered over one shoulder. Gene figured it was so he could unzip his dress, but Paul hadn’t yet reached behind him to tug the zipper down.

            “Are you sure about this, Paul?”

            “Yeah. Course I’m sure.” Stiffly, Paul shifted backwards, until he was fully on the bed, long legs splayed apart but somehow tense. 

            Gene finally got his shirt off. Then Paul seemed to react again, shifting to his knees, one hand clasping Gene’s bare shoulder while the other started to unzip and shove down his pants, leaving them hanging just a bit past his hips. Gene reached behind Paul, fingers headed for the zipper of his dress, but Paul shook his head.

            “Don’t.”

            “Hey, this is a little uneven here,” Gene tried to joke. The consternation on Paul’s face made him stop. Maybe Paul was just nervous and gearing himself up. He’d at least have to take off his panties to fuck.

            “I’ll get to it, okay?”

            “Okay. Take it easy.”

            Gene took a breath as Paul’s fingers reached his boxers. Tension was still practically emanating from Paul, even as Paul began to yank them down. It just made Gene feel all the more wary. He hadn’t gone for a kiss or a grope or anything; the only touching Paul was doing at all was just to try and get Gene’s clothes off.

            He grabbed Paul by the wrist before he’d gotten his boxers more than an inch or two down. His grip wasn’t hard, but Paul froze up anyway, instantly dropping his hold on Gene’s boxers, looking strained, almost caught.

            “Gene—"

            “Hold on,” he said quickly. “We’ve got to talk first. How do you wanna do this?”

            “I don’t care. However you want.”

            “However I want?”

            “It’s not that much leeway, is it?” Paul’s mouth twisted. “I’m up for it. It’s fine.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Would you stop asking if I’m sure?”

            “Okay. Okay.” Last night hadn’t been like this. Forget last night, two hours ago hadn’t been like this. Gene wasn’t sure what to do. He reached out, hesitating before slipping a hand underneath the dress, past the nightie and the bra, cupping one breast. Paul didn’t really react. Just sat there, stiff as ever, and after a second or two, he withdrew his hand.

            “You don’t want foreplay?”

            “It’s not that.”

            “I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want it, but—”

            “Look, it’s fine. Touch me wherever. I told you I don’t care. Can’t you just go for it? What’s holding you up?”

            “You are. You’re acting strange.” Oh. Oh, wait a minute. Gene felt like he was William Tell without the expertise, endlessly trying to shoot a target blind, but he thought he might have hit on it. An explanation for why Paul didn’t want to strip. It still didn’t quite feel right, what with how Paul was picking out low-cut tops and short-shorts of his own accord, and it didn’t account for all of his behavior, but—“Do you want the lights off?”

            “I haven’t fucked around in the dark since I was nineteen.” Paul’s expression changed as soon as the words fell out of his mouth. “Not… not actual fucking.”

            Not last night, he meant. Gene nodded.

            “Then…” God, this was awkward. “I don’t know how to make you comfortable. What do you want here?”

            “Nothing! I told you, it’s fine.”

            “You don’t seem fine.”

            “I am. You’ve got millions on the line here. Go ahead.”

            “It’s not about the money.” Bewildering just to say that, and more bewildering still to mean it. Paul stiffened like he was expecting an injection. “Something’s not right. I’m not going to do this unless you’re really up for it.”

            “I am up for it! Christ, what do you want? A striptease?” Paul yanked his bra straps down past his shoulders, unhooking the clasps in the back, pulling the bra out from under the dress through the sleeves. He tossed it against the wall. Gene looked away, but Paul grabbed his arm. “Go for it. Why won’t you go for it?”

            “You’re scared, that’s why.”

            “I’m not scared! What the hell do I have to be scared of?”

            “I don’t—”

            “You think I’m afraid of being hurt, is that it?” Paul snorted. “I can take that.”

            “That’s not exactly—”

            “Try taking it up the ass sometime, that’s a lot worse than—”

            “I don’t mean that kind of hurt.”

            Paul didn’t respond immediately. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the insistent tick of the clock on the nightstand. Paul had let go of his arm at some point, his hands finding and clasping his own knees instead.

            “Don’t be an idiot, Gene. Don’t turn me down because you don’t think I can handle it after.”

            “Paul, listen,” Gene started, reaching for Paul’s hand. Paul’s fingers curled against his knee, but he didn’t pull away. “It’s not about handling it. You’re stressed out, and that chick made it worse. We can try again tomorrow, if you want.”

            “I want to right now.”

            “No, you don’t.”

            Paul drew his hand back from beneath Gene’s.

            “How the hell would you know what I want? I’m fucking throwing myself at you. Isn’t that good enough? Can’t you do it for me? Y-you’ve done everything else!”

“Not like this.”

            Paul got up from the bed, stalking out the bedroom door. Gene yanked up his pants and followed him, grabbing the back of his arm.

            “Where are you going?”

            “Out.” Paul yanked his arm away, walking faster. He grabbed the jacket Gene had bought him from where he’d left it on the living room couch, snatching up his keys and wallet from the coffee table. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

            “Paul, don’t.”

            “Don’t what? You won’t do it for me.” A rattled gasp for breath as Paul yanked the jacket on. “You’ve got no say in it.”

            “It’s late. I don’t want you going out there—”

            “Without you chaperoning?” Paul started to laugh, the sound strange and throaty. “You don’t think I can do anything. You want to pick someone out for me? Scope them out?”

            “No!”

            “I bet y-you’d rather me stay a girl. I won’t. You can bet your ass I won’t.”

            “I don’t—Paul, that’s not it, something’s bothering you. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

            “There’s nothing to regret. Fifteen fucking minutes and it’ll be over.” Paul was stepping into the heels he’d kicked away in the foyer earlier. Gene reached for his arm one last time, hand lingering in the air. “You don’t understand a damn thing. You think I—y-you think—” he started, then wrenched open the door, slamming it shut in Gene’s face.

            He could have stopped him. Grabbed him at the door, or even yanked him back inside from the driveway. Maybe he should have. But he didn’t want to humiliate Paul any more than he already had. Didn’t want to manhandle him, didn’t know what he would’ve done afterward. Paul didn’t want to talk, that much had been obvious. He might have tried to throw Gene out of the house next. He wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with him.

            Paul had left his stockings on the floor. Gene picked them up, tracing a finger across a run right down the side of one leg. Then he crumpled them in his hand and walked back to Paul’s bedroom, before he had a chance to see the taillights of Paul’s car disappear into the night.

[expshared]

this season was kind of whack, but at least we had Eizouken

Heya Camp is just kind of a lazy reminder that Yuru Camp exists, and will continue to exist in the future. You remember these characters?? OK good, just making sure. That said, did I immediately feel the tension release in my entire body when I heard the OST? Duh. Did I sing “it’s coffee time” to the ending not knowing these were the incorrect lyrics? The entire time.

I don’t know what to do with Isekai Quartet because like, objectively, I should hate it. I do not enjoy like 2.5 of the shows involved, and the addition of Shield Hero was not a welcome one. Turns out it doesn’t matter anyway because it was just Isekai Quartet and also Naofumi is Sometimes Scowling in the Background and that’s about as much of him as I want to see anyway. And yet? I do enjoy this Disney Channel Original Crossover. There’s something inherently fun about watching these characters from disparate shows interact with each other, and no matter what the original stakes were in their respective series, they’re all just doing homework and getting part time jobs and that shit’s funny when a big skeleton man is doing it.

After its first episode, Asteroid in Love was kind of a slog. This is your typical seasonal CGDGT show, and apart from that, I really can’t think of anything to say about it. I didn’t learn anything about the Extremely Niche Topic these girls are doing, and it wasn’t even that gay. Disappointing. 

I was really looking forward to Toilet Bound Hanako-kun because I am a big fan of the source material, but I was pretty let down by this adaptation. It seems that they prioritized the art style and the color scheme above everything else, but that essentially just meant the entire project ended up being colored manga panels. I wanted to see them move around! There was not a single moment of animation that justified it being an anime. You might as well have been watching a PowerPoint. I can’t think of anything nice to say. Let’s move on. 

Bofuri is my power fantasy. I want to play a video game so cluelessly I break it into tiny pieces and bumble into being the most powerful player in the world’s nicest MMORPG. Maple turns powercreep into powersprint. What Bofuri lacks in character development or plot, it makes up for in outrageous Maple feats. She holds the entire world in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even know it. She named her OP pet turtle Syrup and then turned into an alien abomination unknown to the world and went on a killing rampage. This anime was Maple Crossing Online. Love you, Maple. Wreck shit, Maple. 

If My Favorite Idol Got Into Budokan, I Would Die walks a thin line and what separates it from being a slobbering idol otaku engine preaching how Cool it is to Be an Otaku and an Idol Show Watamote is the fact that Eripiyo is a girl. That’s it. If you took her and replaced her with your average Joe Schmoe-san, this show would be insufferably creepy. Every time I was waiting for it to topple over, Jenga-like, it managed to right itself and straddle the tightrope. It’s not a particularly subtle piece of media, nor does it do what I was hoping it would do and engage in any sort of conversation about the obsessive nature of idol otakudom, but you know what it does a good job of doing? Portraying being an idol as a job. Just some adults putting on underground shows and selling the same CD of like two songs over and over again. I was also hoping it would address what happened to Eripiyo, maybe talk about why at the beginning she’s dressed like an office worker and apparently gives that all up to follow this kinda-shitty idol group, why this fanatic escapism is preferable, or even maybe address how gay it is? Not in the cards, though. Honestly Budokan was, despite itself, pretty enjoyable? There are some great background lesbians. Also can we talk about how consistently good the production values were on this show? Why did this have such great dance sequences? Why did this look better than Love “Has More Money Than God” Live? Actually no I take everything back this show was kind of just Idol Otaku Watamote

Hey, let’s talk about the other idol show airing this season: the completely unhinged 22/7. This show is Whack. This show operates on an entire different plane of reality. I know nothing about the actual band, so I came into this blind and oh my god. Hey guys, the plot of 22/7 is that a Wall tells some girls to form an idol unit.  A sentient Wall whose orders absolutely must be followed. Why? Dunno! What happens if you don’t follow its orders? Never elaborated on. (Actually, is this a reference to Pink Floyd? I have no fucking clue.) In any case these eight girls, summoned by a letter from the Wall, are all invited to become an idol group, and then they’re magically an idol group. It’s unclear how they become successful, how they book gigs, who’s keeping the lights on at the agency, how they’re getting paid, who HR is, how their gorilla man agent found this Wall and determined that all its directives Must Be Followed, but shit, man. What follows in 22/7 is a one-member-per-episode serial that quite frankly stumbles far more often than it succeeds. One girl’s grandma died and that’s why she came to Japan. One girl had a traumatizing experience where she got lost in the woods for a week and it broke her family apart and now things just suck forever. These things are equal. One poor girl’s entire episode was about how she didn’t want to put on a bathing suit for a photo shoot and how uncomfortable she felt about it, but in the end she was made to apologize for dragging her feet for so long and takes her photo for a pin up. Yuck. Gross. Bad. The only valid girl is Jun, end of discussion. None of this even holds a candle to the finale-- wherein the girls are directed by the Wall to disband, and, defying an order for the first time, the girls return to their agency and throw shit at the Wall until it breaks down. It’s revealed that the Wall isn’t supernatural-- behind it are tv monitors, photos of the girls as children, records of their activities. A person or people are behind this. Why??? Are they being groomed?? Is the Wall a metaphor for the Industry? I’m so concerned. The girls aren’t, though, because after a little side eyeing, they ascend a staircase and wow! A Stage! Our fans are all here for our reunion tour! And then they’re fine and I guess their idol group is back together or something? Did I mention the stage where they perform? It’s at a zoo. I can’t tell if this is the most scathing condemnation of idol culture I’ve ever watched or just completely oblivious. The characters don’t engage in any sort of thought about what they’re being put through, but they are performing their final song, the lyrics of which are about how life is just too hard to keep on living, at a zoo and I don’t think you can have that sort of thing happen unless you’re trying to make a point. Right??? RIGHT?!? Dance and sing, monkeys.

Smile Down the Runway was another show completely divorced from reality. So you got your main character, Chiyuki, whose thing is that she’s Too Short to Be a Model at her father’s very prestigious modeling agency. Which, like, is valid! Let’s see some variation in the modeling industry. Let’s shake it up. Let’s lead the charge for alternative models with bodies outside of the very narrow requirements of the fashion industry. What’s that, Chiyuki? You have no interest in that? You want to be a Hypermodel? I don’t know what that shit is, I think you made it up. Our other protagonist is Ikuto, the destitute, put upon, bobcut boy with a dying mother and 3 younger siblings who is trying to pursue his dream of becoming a fashion designer. Are you beginning to sense the problem here? There is a fundamental imbalance in the presentation of these characters’ goals and situations. Also? Emotions are at an eleven, always. Characters are always acting as if they’ve just seen someone get murdered in front of their eyes even when it’s like. There’s a messed up seam. They are constantly being mortified, crushed, and having their dreams ripped away. One time, two different assholes offered Ikuto magical mom-fixing blood money when he was struggling to come up with funds to pay off his medical debt at the cost of giving up his spot in the fashion show. Wildin’ 

Haikyuu didn’t exactly come in like a lion, but I’m sure it’ll be more organic upon rewatching. We were laying the groundwork for much of this season so I’m expecting it to payoff later, but the beginning definitely lagged. Every time Haikyuu hints at a women’s volleyball tournament, I want a volleyball anime with girls. Man, those ten minutes we got with Kiyoko? Those were great. 

I don’t have too much to say about Somali and Forest Spirit. Abe’s “Make Children” agenda feels at least a little more like a narrative choice in this anime, and I enjoyed Somali and the Golem’s relationship and their travels were in equal turns harrowing and heartwarming. And I did tear up at the end so you got me there, anime. 

In/Spectre has some balls being an anime. It’s existed as a light novel and a manga and those are both superior mediums for it because let’s put all our cards on the table here-- In/Spectre is a show about talking. Five whole entire episodes take place in a car. The finale is winning an argument in an anonymous 4chan chatroom. That said, I have such a fondness for In/Spectre. I think Kotoko rocks. I think a show willing to do nothing but talk at you for two hours is badass. Sitting through this anime is like watching a podcast. I think the show engages in some great dialogue about human nature and how we prefer stories that are theatrical, narratively-driven, and have a logical cause-and-effect, instead of the truth, which is more often than not grim, and disappointing, and illogical. I like that Kotoko’s only function, in-story and out of it, is to bullshit so hard she invents alternate realities. Anyway In/Spectre is good. 

There’s no praise I can lavish on Eizouken that hasn’t already been said. It’s powerful, it’s strange, it’s energetic, and it’s packaged with such love. It’s repurposed the CGDCT template into something deeply affecting. It’s an anime for people who love animation.  I hope everyone watches Eizouken.