#or ‘i go to work so my wife can COLLECT SCRAPS’

[lazycranberrydoodles]

everybody go home. this is my magnum opus

[mythicmanuscripts]

can you please write some nsfw subby crying emotional Aemond who’s obsessed with his wife and finally feeling loved?

Of course I can!! That’s my favourite Aemond!

While there is definitely sub!Aemond in this answer there isnt any more than implied NSFW undertones so I haven't added a cut. Hope you lads enjoy!!

So firstly it takes a very long for reach this point. Aemond is so so used to people mistreating him and lying to him and making him feel worthless. When he first marries you he assumes you will be the same. He doesn’t even have it left in him to hope for something better.

For months he was just stiff and formal with you, and in fact he never even consummated the marriage. He was too afraid of the intimacy of the act, of laying himself bare before someone

You have to earn his trust, and you earn it by always supporting him. He’s never alone in his convictions anymore, and he’s never alone during the cold evenings either. You keep him company, but you also listen and give advice and are proactive in your support for him.

Once he starts to lean on you, it snowballs from there very quickly. Aemond tries to slow down or stop it, but it’s like he’s addicted? He can’t go a day without seeing you, and eventually that evolves into him not being able to go a day not hugging you, then not kissing you, and so it progresses.

I think what really gets him is that you never ever turn him away? It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, if he comes to you then you will always let him in. Even if you’re in the middle of something, you’ll still give him a smile and tell him to come sit with you.

It’s that love and care he that he sees in your eyes every single time he comes to you that leaves him chasing after you, begging for the smallest scrap of attention. And the most important part is that you NEVER turn him away. He always has a safe space with you.

And well, when you think about it like that, of course he’s emotional and obsessed with you!! You’re like a walking safe space for him. If aemond had it his way you would never be out of his sight. Yes he’s the submissive, but he’s also very very possessive about his dom. he knows how insanely lucky he got and he will not allows others to take too much of your attention.

Honestly I think Aemond would almost always want you at his side once he realises that you actually love him? The complete 180 he goes through from only speaking to you when it was absolutely necessary and only being spotted with you at public events to pretty much never being without you will forever confuse pretty much the entire of the red keep.

It's like one day Aemond wakes up and decides that the two of you will now be a team and then you are simply never spotted apart. And I don't just mean Aemond taking you everywhere he needs to go, whenever you have somewhere to be then he's always going to come with as well. It really doesn't matter what you're doing or why, he just always comes with.

I actually think maybe once a week you two will just sit together and discuss your schedules and where you are both expected to be so that you can work out how to attend everything together? When he's prince regent he has absolutely no problem with moving small council meetings to ensure he can go somewhere with you and that you will then be free for the new time of the small council meeting.

So when someone asks about needy, emotional crying sub!aemond, the honest answer is that he’s in some form of that state most of the time.

It’s most prominent when you two are alone.

Aemond really just melts under your attention. The moment he knows he’s got your full attention his brain just shuts off? It’s by far his favourite time of the day.

He always starts calm and collected but within a few minutes he’s already getting worked up and a little squirmy. You wait for him to ask if you can play with him, and the moment he asked you flip the two of him over and then he's pretty much instantly all emotional and pliant for you.

It takes a long time for him to actually admit he wants something from you, but you get very good at reading his body language. He's so so happy about the fact that he knows if he just shows you how he's feeling then you will help him and look after him.

He really just loves how at ease you make him feel? He knows the moment he walks into your shared quarters he can relax and finally just be taken care of him.

I actually think maybe you two will have very strict rules about who can and can't come into your quarters? Most of the nobles don't even think about the servants and just let the servants do their various jobs, but it's very different with you and Aemond. You understand that for Aemond your bedroom is his safe space, and so you make sure he never feels like his safe space has been violated.

Servants have to ask you when they can change the sheets in your quarters, you do not allow them to just come in and do it whenever like the rest of the keep does. You also don't any servants assigned to specifically just help you do things like drawing baths and brushing your hair and whatnot. If for whatever reason you do want someone to do those things then you will call someone, but you never have a servant constantly waiting in your quarters.

It takes Aemond a while to notice this change actually, and when he brings it up and finds out why, he pretty much immediately just melts and you have to pull him into a tight hug.

So yeah, clingy, emotional sub!aemond who loves his wife very very much is pretty much his constant state and he's so so thankful.

[tumblingxelian]

If I may ask with an open enough mind, might I hear out your thoughts on the character of Chloe Bourgeois? I don't expect an answer right out the gate so don't rush on my account. I'm merely trying to collect varying perspectives over what's become a uniquely controversial character.

Oh my that is a doozy of a question, I've debated no less than three separate videos on the topic and multiple essays to boot. Still, she's on my mind and the thing I am working on is obstructing me from modelling or writing but quires breaks to let stuff load so I have time for a longer ask:

So, what are my thoughts on Chloe Bourgeois?

Exactly where to start is rather tricky, so forgive any digressions or rambles.

Chloe is thematically the everyday reality of an Akumatized person.

What I mean by this is that Akuma victims are people in states of emotional distress, tribulation or trouble. Who thanks to the enabling of a power greater than themselves are both encouraged and enabled to lash out at others with borrowed power.

These people are meant to be sympathetic, their emotional tribulation taken advantage of, their situation, methods and thought process untenable. But they do need to be stopped from doing harm, and then healing needs to begin, with some effort made to redress the issue that led to them lashing out in the first place.

Akuma victims are the supernatural theme, Chloe is the reality.

Of course, some might claim she has no reason to have issues but...

Her mother is negligent and largely absent. The time they spent together prior to Queen Wasp, consisted of Chloe praising, giving gifts and trying to please Audrey. Only to be torn down, ignored, rejected or have her efforts disparaged. The woman doesn't even get her name right and the only means by which she earned even a scrap of approval was through being cruel. Something explicitly encouraged by the show's main character which is ???. 

Though it seems Audrey got bored with her fairly quickly regardless.

Audrey is unrelentingly hostile, selfish and cruel and encourages these traits in others and only avoids turning them on a person if they are sufficiently useful, or a match for her in viciousness. You are either her victim, her tool, or a conspirator. This is a hilariously awful parent, the damage she can do limited only by her sheer lack of interest.

Andre is somehow worse.

I am going to ignore the reading undertones of subtext into things but suffice to say that ratchets him up from just a bad parent to kill him with fire parent.

What we see with Andre is a man who explicitly taught Chloe to lie, cheat, intimidate, extort and bribe people to get what she wants. She is fourteen, and has been doing this since before she was in double digits. She's not bad because there's something innately wrong with her, she behaves badly because she's been explicitly taught that was the proper way to conduct herself.

We know full well Andre is capable of reigning Chloe in, be it gently in the Christa episode or with disciplinary action in Kung Food. However he only does this when it suits him, or her actions might cause him problems. For all his alleged affection for her, or her alleged influence on him, Chloe's always on the end of a leash Andre can and will tug back on the moment he feels like it.

This isn't just bad because it's so blatantly hypocritical and self serving. It's bad, because it means he enables Chloe's most self destructive and harmful traits so long as they don't impact 'him'. Given also that he is the one who, to put it charitably, raised her, that means the consequences and fallout of her actions should fall on him.

The fact he is presumably the one who encouraged Chloe to impersonate his wife, given Audrey didn't start rewarding that behavior until Queen Wasp, is also bad parenting. Like even if you ignore the disgust factor, its just fucking awful parenting and like everything else he taught her. It contributed to the fact Chloe is a social pariah hated by most people she has to spend time around.

Because let's get to the next stage, subversions!

In most shows like ML, Chloe as "The mean girl" would be popular, or at least feared, able to pose a threat in a social context, and is usually insulated from the more magical issues.

None of this applies to Chloe.

Even if we don't treat Origins as the shows starting point, she's already only tangentially involved in class stuff. Her fathers hotels own doorman outright says she has no friends, extremely out of pocket of him. & Origins sees one of the first things said to him being that Chloe is a brat and he halfway ditches her before 24 hours are up, and keeps her at nominal arms length for the rest of the series.

We can talk about how there's reasons for this, sure, but the thing that's interesting here is the subversion.

Chloe's mean-ness has not won her friends or influence as it does other mean girls in fiction, such as Heathers or Mean Girls.

Instead, it's made her barely tolerated by her peers and this only grows worse for her as the show goes on leading to her ensuing isolation which only worsens her condition and attitude. This is something Chloe is even varying shades of aware of, as she tearfully confessed to Ladybug when hiding from her Akumatized father. She knows something is wrong, but doing things differently goes against everything her parents taught her or exemplified, so it's not a shock she struggles.

Similarly, compare how Bonnie from Kim Possible could actually out-compete Kim for the role of cheer captain. 

Can Chloe beat Marinette in anything?

No, not really, or least the narrative never lets her do so even when she does have the skills for it, such as 8 years of ballet losing to nice vibes.

This is much less interesting than the previous point because it's basically just the writers using Chloe as a speed bump which gets boring after a while.

Then consider how Totally Spies own Mean Girl, Mandy is rarely tied to the actual adventures save maybe in a way other civilians are; leaving altercations with Clover as civilian affairs.

Does this apply to Chloe?

Fuck no XD

Chloe's frequently targeted by AKuma, even when she either shouldn't be singled out, (Ivan, everyone was scared) or for comparatively minor transgressions (Nathanial, his teacher screamed at, insulted & shook him) or outright targeted by the main villain of the show. (One who has known her since she was an infant!) 

Even before she had a Miraculous, Chloe was a frequent target of violent murder attempts. But this is largely treated as neutral, or even as comeuppance for bad behaviour. The issue is, the sheer scale of what she's being targeted with is so completely disportionate to what she did, assuming she even did things wrong, that it comes off as more unfair than anything else, & liable to give trauma. 

Especially as the show has double standards at times.

I think often-times the writers neglected to actually think through their karmic punishments for Chloe.

Take Pixelator, 

Chloe is the one who recognized Jagged, helped her father, and actually did her fucking job, but is the only student not rewarded with a concert ticket despite having done nothing to piss Jagged off.

Or how when her locker was broken into she's largely dismissed and needs to threaten the principal with her father to get a response. One might say this is abusing her power, but A, it's her dads power and B, we see with Lila later that the principle will basically just bow to whoever can make the bigger fuss. This isn't a Chloe issue it's a Damocles issue and I think being upset people broke into her locker isn't exactly unfair.

Similarly, I noted above how Chloe loses to Marinette even when she shouldn't logically do so. 

A bigger example of the narrative short hand delivered is the fact we see other characters do stuff Chloe does and get free rides.

IE, Kagami can dramatically strut into a fencing hall talking the most boastful shit, actually lose more or less legitimately, Akumatize and still be treated with sympathy and become a hero.

Chloe boastfully auditions to be Ladybug for a music video, but actually is the best audition scene, but loses out to positive vibes, gets angry & through her father lashes out, gets punished & no one gives a shit about her side of the story. 

To be clear, I like Kagami, I find this comparison interesting, I just don't think the show realized that it did this or does stuff like this a lot. 

That whole episode also demonstrates what I said at the start, about Chloe embodying the thematic of Akuma, IE, anger or distress, powerful sponsor, lashing out, ETC. 

So the double standard in how she's framed and treated VS Kagami is framed and treated becomes a weakness of the writing and show. 

We also see this with stuff like her & Marinette sabotaging Kagami, but Marinette largely getting portrayed sympathetically for doing so while Chloe isn't. 

This creates the impression the problem isn't Chloe's bad behavior, it's with her mere existence.

IE, she's the audience and writer's punching bag/designated target, so it feels like the writers just kind of don't bother a lot of the time actually making her wrong or thinking through the implications of their story beats with her, or other characters' behaviour. 

This stuff is present in Season 1, much more overt in season 2 and basically caps off season 3 which is where I stopped watching.

Cos like, the villain who's known her since forever has been actively trying to utilize her through the seasons, who explicitly aimed to puther in a state of severe emotional distress, ambushed her in her own home & had her parents in his grasp.

Right after the show's hero blatantly walked back a previous ruling that kept Chloe from being Queen Bee, (& did so for selfish and if one considered HK targeting known heroes, incredibly callous reasons)

But we're meant to hate the 14 year old for responding badly?

I would also argue stuff like this is a large part of what makes Chloe such an ensemble dark horde to the fandom. Not just because one can read into things about her history and character, but because the author's hand is so heavy it actively hurts and hinders its own narrative in order to harm Chloe and so feels unfair.

Some final notes I couldn't place elsewhere:

Akuma don't usually harm their loved one's. Chloe's mother tried to kill her on sight & then kept looking for excuses to do so & finally did. Andre turned the powerful & willful Audrey into a simpering hanger on and wanted to do the same with Chloe, which again, yikes.

When fused together they declared her incapable of loving anyone but herself. A fact blatantly disproven already but even in the episode itself with her demanding their release in exchange for helping Hawk Moth. & then tried to fucking EAT HER.

Her butler, school friend and teacher seemingly love her more than her own parents.

As an aside, Sabrina's explicitly encouraged to work for Chloe by her father as it makes her "Useful" which has loads of implications. But at least one can't blame Chloe for Sabrina's character.

Madame Bustier, when Akumatized uses having "Taken care" of her father as a lure to try and get Chloe to come to her. So again, yikes if one wants to read into it as it means even as an Akuma who was upset by Chloe, Bustier perceives Andre as the threat/problem to her.

Chloe by all accounts seems to live alone in a hotel suite, not even one of the fancier, super suites but like... The walls are 50% glass with no curtains, that lead to publicly exposed areas (as we see interviews with Jagged being conducted in them) and there's almost nothing to identify it as a space she lives in. Hell, the pictures on the wall are often blank and it seems she's lived here alone since she was a toddler.

That would have calamitous impacts on a Child's psyche & development! 

Despite her portrayal, Chloe was shown to be extremely good at being Queen Bee in many respects.

She almost soloed Mayura.

She is the first person shown able to resist Akuma, got civilians out of an Akuma infested train cart & protected Sabrina during the second red Akuma swarm.

She was able to quickly and easily keep up with Ladybug on the roof tops and using a similar weapon & travel style creates a visual parallel between the two which carries implications of them being counterparts. 

But most especially Chloe proved herself a skilled and heroic combatant during Heroes Day; covering for the other heroes without orders, doing so easily & needing to be targeted by multiple villains all with personal ties to her to be brought down, while protecting other heroes.

But that never really gets acknowledged.

So much like with "Nearly being brutally murdered for being kind of a dick" this sense of narrative imbalance engendered sympathy from those who notice.

I also find it fascinating that Chloe is, despite spending her life surrounded by abusers and enablers both, that she, without any real guidance, managed to soften their behaviors on her own.

Yes she buys Sabrina presents in luew of saying sorry, but she also spends time with her and does fun stuff, Andre just buys her off. She wants Adrien at her side and the like, but she doesn't actually try to stop him from befriending people she hates, Gabriel tries to keep him locked up. She doesn't like losing, but compares her relatively mild huffiness or brief theatrics to Audrey's violent response to merely being snubbed.

She's already doing better than all of them despite explicitly being taught or demonstrated, or victimized with all the wrong lessons and is fourteen.

Chloe also obviously has a deeply unhealthy understanding of relationships as seenin in how she recreates her parents awful dynamic with everyone around her. 

IE,

Andre fawns on Audrey, who is domineering, never satisfied and harsh at best. Chloe acts accordingly with Sabrina, while fawning on her mother and Ladybug who are much the same though  for different reasons. She's internalized this deeply unhealthy dynamic and applies it to herself as much as she does to anyone else.

This is just one element of the fact she honestly seems deeply troubled on a social level. I mentioned earlier that Chloe seems to know "Something" is wrong with everyone hating her & is clearly unhappy about it. But also seems unsure how to fix it, or what the source of the problem is.

The fact she often doesn't seem to get social cues, even from people she's treating like a peer, such as Ala or Adrien, gives off the sense that her problems go deeper than just "Being a brat".

This is further emphasized by the fact that so much of her daily persona seen is her doing an impression of her mother. Or otherwise putting on a show to try and get her dad or Kim, or the principle ETC, to do something.

Because when she's "upset" it's all theatrical prancing and squeals of daddy and then it's over.

But when she's actually upset, like panicking over losing Adrien upset, or breaking down cos Ladybug chose another hero with a known identity over her (Said by Kagami in the episode so we can't pretend it's not true). Chloe usually builds up to a brief explosion followed by a collapse, or just collapses outright into a panicked, curled up state. One that in one instance seemed to be intentionally drawing comparisons to an infant, but again give what we know that says less about her & more about Andre.

Basically, Chloe's life is a performance, we rarely see the real her, because she's always trying to play a role she thinks she's meant to, in order to be liked and successful & is confused, hurt and lonely because it's not working the way her family promises or demonstrated it would.

I also think it's interesting how Marinette & Kagami both firmly instruct her to stop bothering about seating arrangements. Like, we see he react to insults and anger with anger back, but those firm instructions seemed to make her actually inclined to listen, or at least intimidate rather than rile her up.

Also on the insults front, I think it's notable with the pariah angle that Chloe did basically become an open target. No, she doesn't do herself any favors, but her efforts to do video assignments, or participate in art class getting naught but degrading insults. Or her simply not participating in Madame Bustier's birthday causing the class to collectively tear into her says a lot.

Also much like with Damocles, Chloe getting away with mean-ness is not a Chloe thing, the other students get away with it too. At most getting a mild "Well that was kind of mean" which gets shrugged off.

So again we are back into one rule for Chloe another rule for everyone else, which engenders sympathy or frustration in many of the audience. 

Also I find her & Adrien's friendship conceptually fascinating. because like... Adrien outright admits that he totally understands sabotaging a train to try and win a parents love. Meaning he both can likely imagine himself doing the same and also does not grasp how fucked up it is to think one has to go to such insane lengths for someone who treats them like trash.

Am I speaking about Audrey or Gabriel?

Trick question, it's both!

As a sort of final cap off, I quite enjoy the fact that Chloe's so aggressively defiant. Yes she can get scared & panic, but like. She spent 95% of her Stoneheart kidnapping oscillating between bored, pissed off and irritated.

One can say it's a fight based trauma response and I agree, but it's also just a fun dynamic to have for a character who'd normally be relegated solely to screaming damsel.

So yeah, I think she's a fascinating character in concept and at times execution. Who subverts, twists and breaks expected tropes tied to her archetype in fascinating ways but who's handling leaves me wanting, I hope this was useful! 

@princess-of-the-corner @generalluxun @maestro04yayyy you might like this post too!

MAJOR EDIT!

I can't believe I went through Chloe's entire persona section & neglected to mention the fact that her efforts to flirt with guys always come off as so awkward and in-genuine compared to her enthusiastic adoration of Ladybug.

[melonsharks]

Tell us everything about the parent trap au immediately please please please

to give u an insanely quick rundown with a wip art i have:

aziraphale as elizabeth. wedding dress designer under his pen name A.Z. Fell. (hes an artist as confirmed in s2 and the whole "drawing on napkins" thing elizabeth would do appeals to me immensely)

crowley as nick. owns a vineyard. I NEED HIM TO OWN A VINEYARD SO BAD. shoutout to Old Vines on ao3 for changing me in a fundamental way. he makes wines and he tends to the vines and he is so passionate about it to an abusurdist degree. he yells at his vines when they arent growing right. you already knowwww.

when they meet for the first time, they don’t meet on a boat like in the movie, they actually meet at a wedding party :J crowley was a wine collector, just starting out. he loved offering aziraphale samplings of his most vintage collection out of impulse. (he likes seeing the way aziraphale savors them) (he’s besotted) Wants to own his own vineyard one day. aziraphale, on the other hand, has dreams of becoming a fashion designer of sorts, always drawing ideas on any scraps of paper he can find. his designs are very old fashioned, but thats like… part of the appeal. his work very much reflects who he is, and the people who flock to it understand that.

they enter this kind of… whirlwind relationship, they get married, and then eventually adopt two golden haired blue eyed baby boys. twins. :J warlock and adam.

they break things off because aziraphale leaves... alluding to their recent breakup in season two, the reason he left was because "we both clearly had very different ideas on where our lives were going. so. i packed up and left." (parallel s2 divorce 😋 they don’t know how to talk to each other) (aziraphale throws a book at his head after this argument, like the hairdryer in the movie LOL. it was pride and prejudice. crowley still has it.)

aziraphale leaves with adam. warlock is left with crowley. crowley eventually leaves London because he finds he cant stand being anywhere near Aziraphale (hes just irresistible in that way), and he goes to California where he finally fulfills his dream of owning a vineyard. a nice one on Napa, Northern California.

Aziraphale’s wedding dresses become more and more well known, Adam grows well-adjusted. Same kid you know from the show and book, natural born leader, a good head on his shoulders. (Aziraphale has no idea why Adam is like that, but he is so proud)

Crowley’s vineyard (The Garden Of Eden) grows and grows… Warlock is spoiled rotten, but he does love actually working at the vineyard with Crowley to and he and Crowley have a really good relationship…

Eventually the kids go to a summer camp together in London (i dont know if they . do this in the UK, but suspend your disbelief if you will) Adam meets The Them there, then meets Warlock after a nutty fencing thing, they kind of hate each other at first and the rest is history :J

side characters UM. LOL. idk……. i mean i kind of know but not really? theres just so many possibilities that make the rounds in my head. chessy could be anathema OR nina (ive had people suggest eric too?) and martin could be newt OR maggie (ive also had people suggest muriel????) gestures vaguely.

as for meredith…….erm…………🤷‍♂️ ive had everything under the sun suggested to me and i still……have no idea. LOL. gabriel, lucifer, shaX, FURFUR, THE WIFE FROM THE NON-SPOILER SPOILERS. I DONT KNOW. IT ALL FEELS WRONG. its hard to come up with this role in particular when these gay bitches literally only have eyes for each other. always. forever. u know. i think lucy is like. the classic answer. but idfk.

ask me about . more things if u want. this is consuming my every thought.

anyways the cover im working on for. for something:

[focsle]

"Here I am scribbling nonsense [in] when I should be engaged in the more useful [and] occupation of washing out some very dirty clothes of which I am the happy owner so with the permission of the reader if I am so fortunate as to have one I will once more haul taut + belay." - William Douglass Buel, whaler on the bark Wave, 1856

Since I am unable to do my heaps of laundry today because someone has inconsiderately monopolized AAAAALL the machines, it's time to write a post about whaleship laundry day to quell my fury!

"A person unused to the sight of the ship would take the Old Lucy Ann for a ready made clothing store, the rigging being hung full of wet clothing" wrote John Martin of his ship on laundry day in 1842.

As always, laundry was a dreaded task but also an absolutely necessary one, especially given how begrimed (or as one whaler put it, 'beshit') things would get on a whaler. William Abbe, a greenhand on the Atkins Adams in 1858, most viscerally described the mess that came from the work:

"To turn out at midnight and put on clothes soaked in raw oil. To go on deck and work for Eighteen hours among blubber—slipping + stumbling on the sloppy decks til you are covered from crown to heel with oil—eating with oily hands oily grub—drinking from oily pots til your mouth and lips have a nauseating oily luster—turning in for a few hours sleep — after wiping off your bare body with oakum to take off the thickest of the oil"

So you gotta clean that shit! 'Clean'. A relative sort of word.

First, whalers soaked their dirty clothes in the communal urine barrel, as the ammonia content of stale urine was one of the few things strong enough on board to start to cut through the grease. Sometimes the clothes would be towed behind the ship afterwards to rinse them, but that wasn't always the case. Rainwater was also collected in anticipation of wash day to have fresh water to rinse with. With this fresh water, a lye was also made using the ashes and crispy blubber scraps come from the trying out process. The deck would be washed in a similar way after trying out a whale, often using a combo of urine, lye, and sand. J.E. Haviland, of the Baltic in 1857 described the laundry work that he had never expected to be doing himself:

"Tomorrow all hands are to wash out their clothes with the ashes made from the scraps These ashes are put in a cask and then pour fresh water in the cask + this makes a very strong Lye which might take all the grease and slush out of the clothes without applying any soap. I have some 12 pieces to wash but I think I can do it as quick and as well as any wash woman. If any one had of told me two years ago I should be obliged to wash my own clothes, say nothing about mending then I should have thought them a fool. But man proposses + God disposses."

Whaling wife Almira Gibbs, who accompanied her family (Captain and young son) aboard more than one whaler had her own recipe for soap, despite Haviland's assertion that it wasn't necessary:

"1 lb castile soap 1 1/4 lb soda 6c worth borax add 5 pts water and let it simmer till it is all dissolved, take it off and add 9 pts water and let it cool."

Whaling wives aboard also complained about laundry and the difficulty of doing it aboard ship. The moldering of clothes in such a damp environment, the constant roll of the vessel sometimes overturning one's tub or making ironing dangerous, having to wait for rainfall for fresh water, and a sunny day for actually performing said wash, were constant features in wives' laments. Mary Lawrence, aboard the Addison in 1860 sarcastically wrote about her laundry attempt thwarted by the weather one July.

July 30 A wonderful circumstance. When we were called this morning, the sun was shining bright. “Now for a washing day,” thought I, “if it is Saturday.” So I went to work; had a large wash, it being four weeks since I had had one before. Just as I got about half through, the fog came thicker than I ever saw it before. I was obliged to put my white clothes in soak and dry the colored clothes in the cabin.

She also mentioned her young daughter Minnie who "took her little tub and washed her dog's bedclothes, for Jip has had a bed all the season that had to be made up like anybody's bed".

Sighting whales at any point would also put an interruption to the wash. This photo taken aboard the Sunbeam by Clifford Ashley in his brief 1904 research trip shows men hoisting up the whaleboats after taking a small whale, their Sunday laundry still hanging between the davits.

I'll close with whaling wife Mary Brewster's description of a wash day following the trying out of a whale on her husband's ship Tiger, one winter day in Magdalena Bay 1847.

"Calm pleasant weather. Employed in sewing till 4 this afternoon, when I went on deck, where I found every part, and everything about, very nice and clean. The sailors all washing up their dirty clothes, both trypots full boiling in ley [lye] and the rigging hung full. A few garments floating which had taken flight overboard to save washing. All presented a lively spectable and I could say with all hands, farewell to Greybacks [lice]."

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 23/34 - filing cabinet

[Read on AO3]

The water cooler gurgles as he fills a small paper cup and takes a sip. Today had been the day. After weeks of going through personnel files for prospective replacements, they finally met with a few candidates. He meant what he said to Scully; he’s ready to let go of the reins a little. That doesn’t make the actuality of handing over the X-Files any easier.

Force of habit, he thinks, to resist any and all efforts to boot them from the X-Files. He has to keep reminding himself that it was his idea this time, and that they’d still be working on them in a consulting capacity anyway. He isn’t quitting cold turkey. And besides, they’re moving on to bigger and much better things.

Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice at first when a few other guys gather around, each filling their own cups with water.

“So, Garcia,” the first one says, addressing a man Mulder vaguely recalls works in Organized Crime. “I hear the wife’s about to pop. You ready?”

Agent Garcia smiles, nodding his head. “Oh yeah. We’re going out tonight. One last night on the town before the baby gets here, you know?”

“You gotta do it,” another agent says. Agent Mann, or something silly like that, Mulder thinks. “They call it a ‘babymoon,’ you ever heard of that? My wife and I took a trip down to the Isle of Palms for ours before Michael was born. Great beaches. Now we’re lucky if we make it to the coast without one or all of our kids ingesting sand.”

The men share a hearty laugh, and Mulder feels a little out of place.

“Amy would have killed me if I hadn’t taken her out for a nice dinner before our first,” the first agent says. “It was another two years before we were able to go to a nice restaurant alone, so I wouldn’t have blamed her!”

Is this something people do, Mulder wonders? Is Scully expecting it? Maybe he had missed the memo at some point. Is there a soon-to-be-dad handbook somewhere that tells them how to win points with their wives before they become parents? Should he have come up with a plan to do something special for Scully? Their lives are about to irreversibly change, and he hadn’t even considered, really, that very soon, it won’t be just the two of them anymore. There will be a third person, someone entirely dependent on them just to stay alive.

He fills his paper cup again, feeling sweat begin to form under his collar.

Dinner. He can do dinner, that’s a good idea. He should ask her. One last hoorah as the infamous Mulder-Scully duo for old times’ sake. She’d like that.

With a polite nod and a forced smile at his fellow agents around the water cooler, he heads back toward the elevator, and back to the basement.

-.-.-

“Hey, there you are,” Scully says as he shuts the door behind him. She’s elbow deep in one of the filing cabinet drawers, evidently rooting around at the back for a stray piece of paper that has escaped a folder. “Help me figure out which files to make copies of. I know you’re going to want to keep some of them,” she says.

She knows him so well. He’s already started making a mental list of ones he wants to have in his personal collection. The Bellefleur file, for example. And of course, the ones with his name or Scully’s in it, but those are for much less happy, nostalgic reasons.

Slouching his suit coat off his shoulders, he rolls up his sleeves and approaches the drawer, offering his assistance in reaching the wayward scrap of paper. Her little arms are too short, a fact which he intends to tease her about later. His fingers successfully find the edge of the document, and he extracts it with careful precision.

A familiar picture stares back up at him, giving him a hearty chuckle.

“Remember this one?” he asks, turning his sketch of the Jersey Devil back toward her.

She laughs as she takes it from him, inspecting it. “How could I forget?” she says, “I think this image is forever ingrained in my psyche.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my drawing,” he says. “I want a copy of that file. With my beautiful artwork, please.”

She rolls her eyes, but opens up a folder and slides the paper in its rightful place. He can’t help but notice it was already in the ‘to-be-xeroxed’ pile before he said anything.

The office falls silent as he continues rifling through the cabinets, plucking out a file here and there that he wouldn’t mind keeping. It’s a walk down memory lane, for him. Flukeman, Big Blue, the vampire sheriff in Texas… Who would have thought that seven years later, he’d still have Scully by his side as he prepares to let go of what became his life’s work? Their life’s work. She should have run screaming from here years ago, but she didn’t.

Now look where it’s gotten them.

Glancing up at her from over the top of the overstuffed file drawer and filled with a sudden surge of gratefulness that he doesn’t know what to do with, he blurts, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight.”

She freezes, and he mentally kicks himself for the hasty delivery of his idea. Theoretically, he should have planned a better way to ask her. After a second that feels like an eternity, she turns to him with a skeptical tilt to her brow and a small smile. 

Well, at least he knows he’ll still get to see her make that expression at him even when they’re off the X-Files.

“I mean, we could try that new place in Dupont Circle. The one your mom was telling you about? If you want.”

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, folding her arms expectantly in front of her chest as she leans back in his office chair.

“You know,” he shrugs, “pretty soon it won’t be just us anymore, and I– I like… spending time with you… So I just thought it would be nice to—”

She smiles shyly. “That sounds great, Mulder,” she says, interrupting his fumbling explanation. “Tonight at seven?”

He grins, ducking his head to hide his goofy expression. “Yeah, seven. I’ll make the reservations.”

-.-.-

In hindsight, this is a crazy idea. The restaurant they’re going to is extravagant. Ostentatious. And he knows Scully knows it, too. The margin of error for plausible deniability here is extremely small, and if she doesn’t have some idea of his feelings for her already, he’s going to have a hard time keeping it that way as they sit in a low-lit room munching on those fancy breadsticks and drinking expensive wine.

What had he been thinking? He asked her out without even sparing it a thought, not realizing how it would sound. To be going out on a date with your best friend who is also technically your wife? Langly and Frohike were right. He is an idiot. What is he supposed to do on this ‘date?’ How is he supposed to act? Does she expect anything from him? Is this his last chance to make a move? What does it mean that this is one of the last nights they’ll spend alone together before someone literally hands them a baby and lets them take it home?

The idea of making a move, after all this time spent explicitly trying not to do exactly that, has him in a spiral. He paces around the floor in his bedroom, trying not to think about what dress Scully might be putting on in her room on the other side of the hall or what she might be doing with her hair.

He can’t upset the status quo like this with the baby due any time in the next few weeks, can he? Bad idea. Bad, bad, idea. But at the same time, when else would he get the chance? He’d heard what the other agents had said… it was years in some cases before new parents got the chance to really be alone. What if he had to spend the next several years silently pining for his own wife in the home they share together, watching her be a mother to the baby they adopted? Maybe there’s a reason people don’t get into arrangements like this with their platonic best friend, after all.

How stupid was he to think he could do this without letting his feelings get in the way? Why on earth didn’t he just tell her months ago, before all this started, instead of getting his hopes up?

The answer, of course, is that he wants this. He wants this family more than anything, even if it's never anything more than friendship and cohabitation with Scully. He would have scared her away if he told her the same day she found those adoption brochures on his desk. It would be too much at once. He knows her, she would have been overwhelmed.

But, man… What if?

He checks his reflection in the mirror one more time, smoothing his hair into place. He hopes he didn’t overdo it on the cologne. Should he be wearing a tie? He puts on one that Scully got him several years ago, complete with a tie clip he’d gotten from her mother at Christmas.

He hesitates over the chain he wears under his shirt. What would Scully think if he took it off and wore it on his finger tonight? He finds that he wants to. Just a normal husband and wife grabbing dinner together. Without giving it much thought, he loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt to free the necklace from its usual place. He knows that if he gives it much more consideration, he’ll talk himself out of it, so he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and slides the band onto his left ring finger.

There. He’s ready.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door to his room, intent on continuing his pacing in the living room if Scully isn’t ready to go yet.

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” he hears her call from the bathroom as his door creaks open. At a quick glance, he can see the back of an elegant dress he’s never seen before, black with a neckline that swoops down low in the back. She stands at the sink, fastening an earring in place, and it feels like junior prom all over again.

“Oh, I’m in deep trouble,” Mulder mutters to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. Forcing himself to turn away, he walks straight to the kitchen and fills up a glass of water, downing it in record time.

Not five minutes later, he hears her emerge, and he prepares himself for the sight of her.

Sure enough, it knocks the breath out of him, a fact which he makes every attempt to hide. He’s pretty sure she catches it, though, because the corner of her mouth quirks up and her eyes drift to the floor, as if she were somehow self-conscious about her appearance.

Impossible.

He’s suddenly very glad he opted for the tie, if this is what she's wearing to dinner. Although, it’s feeling a little tight, at the moment. 

“You, uh—” he starts, at a loss for words. His mouth is bone dry, despite the water he had just chugged a few minutes ago. “You—”

“Thanks,” she says, mercifully sparing him from further embarrassment. She tucks a gently curled tuft of hair behind her ear, drawing his attention to the careful way she’s arranged it. “I figured this might be my last chance to get properly dressed up for a while, so… It’s been… years, I suppose, since I’ve had the occasion to.”

This just confirms it. He’s been an idiot. Years of missed opportunities, chances he’s wasted. He could have been taking this gorgeous, magnificent woman out to fancy dinners all the time, if he’d just been able to pull himself together and see past the end of his own rather distinguished nose. 

If time travel is ever invented, he’s gonna use it to go back in time and kick his own—

“Mulder?” she says, smiling amusedly at him. He gets the sense that that’s not the first time she’s tried to get his attention, and he feels his cheeks warm. “I said, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he chokes out, finding his voice at last. She reaches down to grab her purse, and he coughs to clear his throat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

She shakes her head at him in mock admonition, but happily accepts his proffered arm as they exit out the front door of the apartment. In the hall, he glances down, taking in the sight of her hands wrapped comfortably around his right bicep.

Her ring. She’s wearing it. He swears his heart might leap out of his chest at the thought. This might just be the thing that does him in. Put it on his death certificate. ‘Cause of death: the woman he loves is wearing his ring.’ What a way to go.

He doesn’t say anything—couldn’t, even if he wanted to—but he can tell that she saw him take notice. How could he not, with the way it sparkles on her finger, like it belongs there? He feels her hold loosen, and it stirs up a mild panic in his chest. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. Please, please don’t be embarrassed.

He lifts his hand to stop her from releasing him, running his thumb over the diamond inset on her finger. It’s okay, he’s saying. Look, I’m wearing mine too.

He sees the moment her eyes fix on his ring, as he rests his left hand over hers on his arm. She avoids his eyes, but he can tell she’s moved. She swallows back her emotion, and her hold on him tightens again, which sends a wave of relief through his body. 

“Come on, we’ll be late for our reservation,” he says, his voice low, just for her ears. 

She nods, and lets him lead the way.

-.-.-

His first mistake was thinking that he could get day-of reservations at one of the trendiest places in all of Washington, D.C. His second mistake was not considering that his straightforward request for a table that evening might somehow be misconstrued to mean that evening a year from now. 

It takes all his self restraint not to raise his voice at the host at the host stand, because really, why would he be asking for something like that? He’d like to give them a little lesson on the use of the English language, but he won’t, only because Scully is there and he doesn’t want to completely ruin the evening.

She’s there watching him as all this takes place, undoubtedly amused as he fights back frustration. After a moment, her hand lands on his arm, her typical method of pulling him back from the brink of a poor decision that she’s perfected over the years, and she shakes her head.

“It’s alright, Mulder,” she says. “We can just go somewhere else.”

Yeah, but where?

“Have a good evening,” the host says dismissively, and his tone is just a little bit too smug for Mulder’s taste. It reminds him of stuffy dinners with his father’s associates or interactions he had with the pompous law students at Oxford. Maybe they don’t want to eat here after all.

Scully feels him tense under her touch, and gently guides him out of the restaurant before he can respond. What would he do without her? He’d probably get beaten up a lot more often, that’s for sure. Or at least kicked out of places, like he would have been tonight.

She leads him outside, and soon enough, they’re standing on the sidewalk by the street, at a loss for what to do next.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he says, mentally kicking himself for screwing this up so badly. “I just wanted to do something special, and now—”

“Mulder,” she stops him. “Seriously. It’s okay. I’m happy with wherever we decide to go tonight. This is about spending time together, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let's go,” she says, grabbing his hand. “Come on, I have an idea.”

She holds tight to him as she leads them down the sidewalk, passing other couples on the street on this lovely spring evening. He has no idea where she could possibly be taking them, but she’s in a great mood, so he tries not to let the minor setback ruin his night. If she’s happy, then he’s happy.

The sun draws closer to the horizon, casting a golden glow on everything and everyone it touches. It makes her hair shine like fire, and once again he counts his blessings. It feels a little bit like the night of their wedding, and that thought brings a smile to his face.

They walk past several up-scale restaurants, and Scully doesn’t even spare them a glance. Wherever she’s taking them, she must know the way there. After a couple more blocks, she comes to a stop, standing out front of a greasy diner, maybe just a little nicer than the ones they frequent in small-town America. 

“Really?” he asks, looking dubiously up at the neon sign. “You sure you don’t want to go somewhere a little fancier, Scully? You got all dressed up.”

Her answering smile is resplendent in the glowing light.

“I want to eat here, Mulder,” she says, stepping toward the entrance. A bell above the door jingles as she pushes it open. “It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

It does. A wave of nostalgia hits him like a truck when he realizes why she brought them here. Why a diner, of all places, would be the place she chooses for their ceremonial last meal, just the two of them. He can’t count how many formica tabletops just like this one they’ve shared a meal at, over the years. Hundreds of hamburgers with a side of fries, maybe a milkshake they end up splitting when Scully’s ice water loses its appeal. Ripped vinyl booths that Scully thoroughly wipes down with wet wipes she’d started keeping in her bag for that exact purpose.

“Well, don’t you two look nice?” a waitress in uniform says as she approaches their table. Her hair looks like the 80s have come back with a vengeance, all frizzy and permed, and she chews a wad of bubblegum aggressively, smelling like her last smoke break.

In short, it’s perfect.

“What’ll it be?” she asks.

Mulder orders for the both of them, knowing Scully’s usual order by heart. She smiles the way she always does when he remembers to ask for a lemon for her water, and he makes sure to tell the waitress to bring two straws for the milkshake instead of one.

When he looks across the booth at Scully, again, he imagines a little girl sitting next to her, coloring away on a kids menu with two, cheap, plasticky crayons that break in half if you look at them wrong.

It won’t be long, now. That will be their life. Mulder, party of three. Maybe Scully will start to carry a plastic baggy of the good crayons in her bag, for when they go to places like this. He’s absolutely certain she’ll at least double her use of wet wipes and sanitizer. He’ll become a chicken strip connoisseur, knowing all the best places in the city to get the child-favorite delicacy.

“To us,” Mulder toasts once their drinks arrive, lifting his chocolate milkshake in the air between them. “To… endings and new beginnings.”

“To endings and new beginnings,” Scully repeats, clinking her glass against his.

-.-.-

It’s past dark already, barely a hint of color lingering on the horizon, but that doesn’t stop them from prolonging the evening with a walk to the National Mall. The moon is bright, and the streets are lit up for tourists making the most of the warmer spring weather. It’s a pleasant walk. Scully feels drunk, despite the absence of alcohol with their dinner. She wonders if Mulder feels it too.

He guides her with his hand in its usual place, and she feels what can only be described as complete and utter contentment, as each brush of his fingers propels her gently forward. The street leads them straight to the reflecting pool on the National Mall, a favorite spot of theirs, not that they find the time to visit often enough. They’ve missed the cherry blossom blooms by only a couple weeks, but the sweet smell of them persists, unless it’s just her imagination.

Something about being with Mulder like this dials all her senses up to eleven. She has never experienced life like this before. Are the stars always so bright? Does the cool breeze always feel like silk on her skin?

Maybe it's his cologne that has her feeling tipsy. She selfishly hopes the scent of it will linger on her clothes and in her hair even after this night has come to its end.

The Mall is quiet and mostly empty at this hour. The Washington Monument looms in the distance, lit up brightly and casting its imposing reflection on the still waters of the reflecting pool. A family of ducks disturbs the glassy surface, sending ripples radiating outward as they paddle from one side to the other.

Mulder has this peaceful expression on his face, the corners of his mouth quirked upward ever so slightly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he had never been here before, taking in all the sights for the first time. He watches the ducks for a moment, expelling a breath of laughter through his nose as a small duckling falls behind, then swims faster to catch up with the rest of the crew.

His hand drops from her back, but before she has a chance to mourn the loss, he entangles his fingers with hers, clasping their hands tightly together. She follows after him in a daze, her lips pulled back in a self-conscious sort of grin. She can’t help it. He makes her feel like a teenager, and… she doesn’t even know what this is, really, but she likes it. 

They circle the reflecting pool for a bit, wandering aimlessly at a lazy pace, reluctant to put an end to their time together. Eventually, they end up sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the gargantuan statue of the nation’s sixteenth president a silent sentinel behind them.

Scully leans her cheek against Mulder’s bicep. Despite her best efforts to keep them open, her eyes fall shut, her body succumbing to the serenity of their surroundings and the comfort of good company. He offers her his coat, draping it over her shoulders to combat the slight chill. It dwarfs her, the extra fabric at the hem pooling on the ground behind her.

“How about we come here on the weekends?” his voice rumbles, the first words spoken since they left the diner almost half an hour ago.

“Mm?” she hums in question.

He jostles her slightly with his arm, and she forces her eyes open again.

“You know, take the stroller for a spin around the pool,” he says, gesturing ahead of them. “Maybe stop into the Air and Space museum if we feel like it…”

She smiles. She can picture it so easily, the two of them experiencing the wonders of this city through the eyes of their child as she grows. Of course Mulder would want to go to the Air and Space Museum. It’s a wonder he hasn’t dragged her there before.

“Every weekend?” she asks doubtfully, her words slurring slightly.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he chuckles.

“No, not every weekend,” he says, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “I’m sure some weekends we’ll want to sleep in. Maybe have a late breakfast and watch movies. I can make pancakes. Chocolate chip.”

“Children need to have healthy breakfasts, Mulder,” she says admonishingly. Something tells her it will be a constant battle to keep Mulder from spoiling their daughter with sugar and empty carbs. But if that’s the worst of their disagreements when it comes to co-parenting, she’ll happily accept the challenge.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Half blueberry, half chocolate chip,” he concedes. She decides to let it slide for now.

Above them, an airplane soars across the sky, lights blinking rhythmically as it passes overhead.

It’s funny. Before Mulder, she never looked twice at things like that. But now, she finds herself checking a second time, her gaze lingering a little longer, just in case it might be something other than an airplane.

What has this man done to her?

Mulder follows the direction of her stare, his chin tilting upward. Against the backdrop of stars, the perfectly normal, human-built aircraft flies out of sight. The hand on Scully’s shoulder drops to the ground, his palms resting against the stone steps as he reclines back a little.

“Thanks for hanging with me all these years, Scully,” he says softly, his eyes never wavering from the heavens. “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

Her lips pull back in a smile. “We make a pretty good team, huh?” she says over her shoulder.

His lowers his gaze to meet hers. “I like to think so. You think that will translate to raising a kid?”

She has often wondered that exact thing, but for the life of her now, as she looks into his eyes, she can’t think of even one reason why she questioned it.

She leans back onto his shoulder, her eyes falling shut again.

“Only one way to find out,” she answers sleepily.

He sighs happily. “Any day now.”

-.-.-

What a day. What a night.

Mulder can’t sleep, lying stiffly on his back in bed with his hands clasped on top of his torso. All he can think about is how beautiful she looked in the blinding fluorescent light of the diner, with a bit of ketchup smeared on the corner of her mouth from when she stole one of his fries when she thought he wasn’t looking. How she held his hand, content just to walk in silence beside him in the shadow of some of the nation’s most revered monuments.

What a perfect way to put a cap on their time working on the X-Files together. He couldn’t have planned it better himself (clearly). Who needs expensive wine and stale classical music when you have bottomless milkshakes and a jukebox playing the greatest sock-hop hits of the 1950s?

It wasn’t a real date, he has to remind himself, but it sure was close to one. Usually a first date doesn’t end with both parties going home together, that’s one difference. Or, well, going home to the apartment that they both live in together, he should say. But tonight, as they returned home, they got ready for bed side-by-side at the sink, brushing their teeth and washing their faces, and it felt like they’d been doing this for years. There was no awkwardness there, just a wave of peace and stability he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel in his adult life.

If they ever move somewhere else—somewhere closer to Quantico, maybe—he’ll make sure the bathroom is equipped with a his-and-hers vanity. A sink for each of them, and plenty of counter space for all of Scully’s specialty serums and creams. It’ll be nice, he thinks.

When he finally falls asleep, it’s to visions of wraparound porches and matching rocking chairs, and maybe a nice playset in the backyard with a couple of kids running around. Now that’s a dream worth dreaming of.

-.-.-

This is ridiculous. She should just go back to bed, try one more time to actually fall asleep, get a few hours of rest at least. 

But she can’t sleep. Because Mulder had gone and put it in her head that everything is about to change, and it really could happen at any moment. Somehow, when she��s with him, she forgets every apprehension that plagues her, lured into a sense of security and assurance by some mystical power he possesses. Okay, maybe not a mystical power, but it is frightening how easily she casts aside her doubts when he’s within eyesight.

But then it all comes flooding back the moment she’s left to her own thoughts. It’s infuriating. She thought she was ready for it—for this massive life change—but she’s not. It terrifies her.

What if she can’t do it? What if she misses working in the Hoover building with him too much? What if she and Mulder have a disagreement about something trivial and it pulls them apart? What if he meets a nice woman at Quantico and wants out of this arrangement? What if it’s not enough for them to just be friends and raise this baby together? What if her feelings get the best of her, and she scares him away?

Or perhaps worst of all… What if they don’t get to go home with a baby at the end of all this? What if the mother decides to keep it? What then? Would they even have it in their hearts to try again? To wait a little longer, when there are drawers full of onesies and newborn diapers already in their home?

For weeks, the same nightmare has plagued her. Standing in a hospital hallway, their path blocked by people from the adoption agency telling them to turn around. Go home. You do not get a child.

She wakes feeling emptier than ever, and wishes for the millionth time that things could be easier.

There’s so much to think about, and she can’t take it anymore. She’s scared. And there’s only one person she likes to go to when she’s scared, and he’s sleeping peacefully right behind this door.

She sighs, leaning her head up against the door frame in exhaustion. She’ll just poke her head in for a moment. Remind herself that he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere. She repeats the words he’s said to her over and over in her head like a mantra, ways he’s reassured her in the past that he’s in this for the long-haul. But for some reason, they’re hard to recall in these moments of doubt. Maybe she’d misunderstood him. Maybe she’s remembering it wrong, applying more meaning to his words than he’d intended.

Her stomach tosses and turns uncomfortably with nerves. She’ll never be able to sleep like this.

As quietly as possible, she eases the door open, a sliver of light from the hallway piercing its way into his room. He looks warm and soft, the way his face lays slack against the pillow. He’s made himself at home here. His knick knacks line the shelves, unpacked from their boxes after the move and scattered about. As she steps carefully inside, she spots a photo of them that once sat on a shelf in their office. He must have moved it here recently, part of the slow transfer of their lives out of the basement of the Hoover building. She can’t help but notice that it sits beside him on his nightstand, right next to his glasses and whatever book he’s been reading lately.

She lets out a breath, allowing the comfort he unknowingly offers to dull her senses. Just a minute longer, then she’ll go back to her room and give sleeping another shot.

Or she would have, if he hadn’t started to stir, slowly waking from his peaceful slumber. It’s almost like he’d sensed her there, some kind of psychological link that told him when she was near, and in distress. She quickly turns back to the door, hand on the door handle to open it and make her exit before he truly notices her presence, when she hears her name spoken in a confused whisper.

“Scully?”

Her shoulders slump in defeat, and her hand falls away from the doorknob.

“Sorry,” she says, turning to face him sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He props himself up on an elbow, blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes with a fist.

“You okay?” he asks.

Her mouth drops open to reassure him that, yes, she’s fine, but she takes just a second too long to answer, and she knows he sees right through her. It’s not even worth lying to him.

“Come here,” he says, scooting over to make room on the bed beside him. “We can talk, if you want.”

She really shouldn’t, but his offer is tantalizing. She’s too vulnerable to be in this position, right now. Who knows what will slip from her mouth in her exhausted and overwhelmed state? Her feet carry her toward the bed anyway, and she slides into place under the covers, staring blankly up at the ceiling as he settles on his side facing her on his side of the bed.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks knowingly.

She shakes her head, her hair rustling on the pillow.

“Took me a while to get to sleep too,” he admits. “A lot to think about. A lot, a lot.”

At least she’s not alone in this problem, she guesses. She hates feeling like the insecure one in any situation, and that’s how she’s felt more often than not throughout this process so far.

“What’s keeping you up?” he asks, gently urging her to open up.

She tries to shrug, but she knows she’ll have to come up with an answer sooner or later. There’s no reason to hide this from him. Sometimes, he knows her better than she knows herself, and that can be a blessing and a curse.

“I’m going to miss working with you, Mulder,” she says honestly, her lips sealed tight to fight back the slight tremble in them. She can’t stop hearing her own words spoken by the reflecting pool a few years ago. ‘If I quit now, they win.’

She feels a hand land on her upper arm, stroking it comfortingly. Her eyes flutter shut. She can lie to herself all she wants, but this is why she really came in here. There’s a type of comfort only Mulder has ever been able to bestow, and she needs it now more than ever.

“We’ll still be in the same building,” he says appeasingly. “We can get lunch together every day, talk about our classes, complain about the new recruits.”

It’s silly, but his words do help. She imagines sitting across from him in his own private office—probably decorated a lot like their current office is—and munching on a salad while listening to him complain about an essay one of his students turned in. It sounds pleasant. Easy. Maybe he can come help decorate her office too. She’s gotten used to his clutter. She isn’t sure she’d be able to work in the sparsely furnished office space like she’s naturally inclined to.

“And besides– We’ll still see each other here,” he adds. “Every night. And the weekends.”

The thought sends a thrill through her. Sometimes it still feels like a dream, what they’re doing. Giving up the X-Files… that’s a tangible thing. But the baby? She’s still an abstract idea, despite the fact that physical reminders of their plans are scattered throughout her apartment. The picture he’d painted earlier of a relaxing day at home together feels out of reach—like a nice idea that isn’t really attainable. Is she that traumatized from all the disappointment in her life?

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asks, her mouth downturned in a frown. “I mean– I know you’ve said before that this is what you want, but I—”

“You’re gonna have to learn to trust me sometime, Scully,” Mulder says, a slight sadness in his voice.

She does. She does trust him—maybe even more than she trusts herself. That’s what the problem is.

“I do,” she says. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just…”

“Freaking out?” he finishes, smiling at her in amusement.

“Just a little,” she says, returning his smile.

He breathes in deeply, his face pensive like it always is when he's mulling over a difficult question.

“I think we’re ready,” he says, projecting confidence into his voice. “I think you’re going to be a rockstar mom, and we’ll wonder why we didn’t do this years ago.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“But what if—”

He shakes his head, putting a stop to her words immediately. “You gotta stop that, Scully,” he says seriously. “This is going to work out.” His fingers find the dainty necklace she wears, his thumb brushing over the cross. “Have faith,” he implores.

She closes her eyes, letting out a breath, and with it, trying to release some of the fear that keeps her up at night. She wants to do what he asks, to let herself go, but it's not as easy as that. Sometimes she can't help but feel like they're trying to cheat destiny, to force things into going their way when they've been repeatedly told “no” at every turn.

His reassurance does help, though. Wasn't that why she'd come here in the first place? 

Mulder settles back, turning his attention back to the ceiling. 

“What did you think of the new agents?” she asks after a moment, changing the subject. It’s hard to believe that it was just this morning that they’d interviewed a few of them, hoping to find some trustworthy hands to leave their work to.

“Reyes seems sharp,” Mulder says. “I think her background in folklore and ritualistic abuse is a good starting point.”

“Mm,” Scully hums her agreement. “And what about Doggett? Too staunch of a skeptic for you?”

Mulder chuckles. “He comes highly recommended by the higher ups, so I don’t know,” he says. “It’s always good to have a variety of opinions around, though, don’t you think?”

She turns her head to the left, her eyes meeting his in the darkened room, lit only by what little moonlight comes through the blinds. 

“I think… we’ll be okay,” she says then, willing the words to be true as she speaks them. Her assertion brings a smile to his face, and he leans back on the pillow, focusing on the patterns on the ceiling like she had been a moment earlier.

“We will,” he agrees. “For once, I think we’ll be better than okay.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[slemhosta]

I wanna thank everyone who took the time to listen to my Rosch Audio Diary project! (all 25 minutes of it- meowza!) A collection about grief, mental illness and loss!

This is sort of a "post mortem" text where I ramble about it for a bit.

I started writing down ideas for voice lines at the end of 2023, and in February 2024 i began recording them. Some are very carefully scripted like the "when I sit catatonic for hours" or the one about the wounded bird, and some are completely improvised. When I felt inspired, I grabbed my phone and started talking. "Deserve", "This is the effort" and "I don't talk about my wife" are good examples. I think you can tell the dialogue is a bit more "floaty", but I really wanted them to sound genuine while delivering a clear message.

Some ideas developed as I was recording. I knew Rosch had sold his wedding band, but it wasn't until I ran it that I realized that Ingeborg's ring was gone as well.

It was supposed to be a 3 parter. But 3 became 4, and 5 and 6. I think the progression of emotions flowed better when it was shorter. But I ended up with so many bits I liked that I had to expand. And that's a good problem to have! Some stuff from the first batch got cut though. Like 2 minutes of Rosch talking about how he banged his toe in a trash yard. Something about how his pain resistance has developed over the years. Had to go.

I've always wanted to try voice acting. :> But I never in a million years would have done this if not for my pals. I was inspired to record and share my voice because of Scrap. And I've had overwhelming support along the way from so many in the group.

So thank you, thank you, thank you <3

There was a loooong hiatus until I finally picked up the project again and got to work. So go finish your project you're working on. Make it. Because REMEMBER! It doesn't need to be perfect- it needs to be DONE! Perfect things don't exist because they're never finished! (so go make something and then share it. Do it scared, do it sloppy.)

It's really fun to think of your stuff as "projects" and to spend more time on a big thing. I love making stuff, I love sharing it and I love that I'm getting the encouragement I need to try new things and keep making it. Hooray :o)

Okay bye, end of post.

[koreyeet]

finally made my future au version of them

Gonna go on another rant on my au don’t look

something something criminals that have a chance at redemption or can be seen as helpful (who aren’t going to turn on them) just work a job that suits them at the restoration as a sort of parole or they just get thrown in Everhold

Surge ended up at the mechanic area and that Grease dude just ended up adopting her I guess (let her have this) probably can throw some angst in there, her ability so not die when stuff is dropped on her and electricity helped a lot and lowkey she wanted something in common to do with Kit to bond genuinely that doesn’t involve there trauma or violence or bullying , also she got good at it and it distracts her from everything (minimal conversations with people she tried to kill and in general, idk uhhh she gets to gnaw on metal scraps she finds)

-mentally/physically 16 forever

-aromantic lesbian

-still hates Sonic but tolerates him because his wife is hot and she doesn’t want to loose what she’s got

-she is one of the only ones that doesn’t keep a secret from him so he tends to vent to her much to her demise

-passive aggressively counting down the years until she degrades (174 or 5 left baby)

-✨therapy✨

-still is troubled but is working on it

-her first day a car fell on top her and she just got out like “I’m good”

-that leaf thing in her mouth is just something she chews on (I saw it in her concept art and just took it)

-she needs a shower

-refuses to wear safety gear

Kit just ended up as Jewel’s assistant cause if he went with Surge shit will go down badly, even though he’s capable of it he’d keep nagging and being drawn to Surge every minute so best to keep them separate with assurance from all sides (especially Surge saying) this is fine.

-physically/ mentally 10

-aro/ace

-remember that time he thought Surge was dead and did whatever someone told him to do, rn it’s similar to that

-✨double therapy✨

-he’s still a kid so not much is pressured on him

-tbh at the slightest conflict he still will try to murder

-has a messenger bag but it came without the strap so he’s been carrying it around like a book and is too shy to ask someone to add one

-probably has a collection of funko pops or something

Let them be happy

[numinous-queer]

When we began to prepare to foster a kiddo, I took a red yarn bracelet we got at a friend's wedding (referencing the long red thread of fate), and unraveled it to its three component threads. I braided them as tightly as I could - one strand for me, one for my wife, and one for the child we wanted to love. "Hope is a thing with feathers" I quoted to myself a day later, so I started to look for them on my daily walks with the dog. I collected big beautiful cardinal feathers as bright and passionate as my wife, glossy crow feathers full of corvid trickery and intelligence, and bluebird feathers for me, for the joy I wanted to feel.

The night we accepted Sola's placement in our home, I took the most beautiful feathers and wove them into a latticework in the thread - a modified witch's ladder. Every feather felt like a nail holding together the home we were building for her, and the life we wanted together. As she has been with us these 8+ months, I have continued to collect feathers - from the pond where she loves to watch the duckies, from goose feathers blown up to our very doorstep, to any scrap of anything that could have come from a bird. I was so desperate that I'd scramble to pick up any feather-shaped leaf or detritus on my walks, thinking I'd feel better if I could just add another feather to my collection. "Keep her happy, keep her safe, keep her with us" I said out loud into the dust of the garden shed every time I added a feather. (Oh God oh GOD keep her safe)

Last weekend, I buried the feathers in our backyard by a bench where I spent so much time crying as I worried about kiddo's future. There must have been hundreds of them collected since 2021. As I laid them out individually, I wept over them and tried to say goodbye to specific dreams I had of being Sola's father. I was going to bring her on a trip with my wife's parents to the beach this summer, with pony rides already scheduled. I was going to bring her to toddler gymnastics in July. I was going to make summer picnics our new tradition. I was going to collect pumpkins with her every year on her birthday. I was going to dance at her quinceañera. I was going to read The Hobbit out loud to her like my dad did for me. I was going to finally teach her to ride the tricycle her little legs were too short for. I was going to break the news that dinosaurs were extinct and we couldn't see them at the zoo. I was going to find kid concerts in the park for her, because ever since she started to talk she wants to sing her heart out. I was going to keep her safe and dedicate my entire life to making her laugh.

Her last day with us is going to be May 23rd, and it is the hardest thing in the world to pivot to pretending that I'm happy about this for her sake. She's 3.5, too little to understand, and takes her cues from us. If she sees us crying, she'll conclude that panicking is the right thing to do, and might even blame herself or think she did something wrong. My wife and I are essentially taking shifts putting on a brave face for her, and it's killing us slowly. It's working insofar as Sola seems in good spirits, and I'm just begging the universe that stays the case. We can't move the date or change this outcome, and now our most important job is to help her feel okay about this.

We don't know what will happen, but bio mom has indicated that she likes and trusts us and wants us to stay in the picture. Assuming her mom keeps in touch with us, my wife and I would like to become Auntie and Uncle figures to Sola. If we can babysit sometimes, maybe we can stay in her life and keep an eye on how she is. It may be possible to make some of my dreams for her happen, even if it's not as her Daddy. I'm going to have to hold onto that hope in the days and weeks to come.

Irl friends, please reach out to me if you can. After she's gone on the 23rd, I'm going to collapse in a pile and cry for a million years. I need to feel like there are people around who understand the depth of anguish we are feeling. Thank you to everyone who has already been helping me walk this road. @howdydowdy, I owe you everything; thank you for fielding so many hysterical phone calls. I'm so glad you got to meet her and see how special she is. Thank you ET for sharing my joy and my grief and my rage. You kept me sane by reminding me that I wasn't losing my mind, it was our circumstances that were outrageous. And thank you to everyone here who has reached out in solidarity as we entered parenthood the extra hard way. Together, you all got me to a place where I could help this child as much as I could and as long as I could. Now I just have to hope that it was enough.

[johnkatsmc5]

Mike Rudd And Bill Putt "Living On A Volcano" 1995 + "Rarities & Oddities" 2015 + "Bill`s Twang" 2013  Australia Prog,Blues Rock,Classic Rock (Spectrum,Ariel..members)

full spotify

https://open.spotify.com/album/2OUr47Qv9a4ClyldzMb6lM

https://open.spotify.com/album/0OX7VQ8KUlQf87kU2zSTdP

https://open.spotify.com/album/4lKAmWLO1T9zFsOeBz64vO

Mike Rudd And Bill Putt "Living On A Volcano" 1995 

Mike Brady rang recently to enthuse about a CD he had just produced for Mike Rudd and Bill Putt. I’m used to enthusiasm from producers and musicians, but after listening to Living On A Volcano, I’d have to say Mike underplayed his hand, if anything. It’s a captivating album from a musical duo who have been part of the local musical scene since Spectrum in the late ‘60s. The 14 tracks are so gently melodic that they worm their way into your consciousness gradually, rather than leaping out at you. But their sense of musicianship and enjoyment are qualities no amount of high-budget corporate promotion can buy. Rudd, whose vocals have a definite McCartney-ish feel, began this project a decade ago, teasing out melodies on a synthesizer keyboard while wife Helen Rudd wrote the lyrics. The majestically moustachioed Putt added acoustic guitar chords, but the journey to the present disc has been traumatic, involving a scrapped first album and, a year ago, Helen’s serious illness. The final product, with vocal help from Enza Pantano, is highly recommended to anyone who loves adult pop music. It ranges from the gentle catchy title ballad and its dreamy siblings, Having A Wonderful Time and Dancing At Midnight, to the lovely, ambient instrumental Indian Summer, on acoustic guitar, keyboard and harmonica – my favourite track. The album has been issued independently in a limited pressing, but I’m told it’s available in good record stores. I’d be surprised if a major company doesn’t pick the album up soon. Mike Daly The Age Green Guide 8.2.96.....~ A captivating album from a musical duo who have been part of the Australian scene since Spectrum in the mid-‘60s. The 14 tracks could actually be described AC/Ambient for their gentle melodicism that laps rather (than) leaps into the listener’s consciousness. It works as background; it works as foreground. From the gentle samba of the title track to the lovely ambience of the instrumental Indian Summer, the songs defy the odds of not being abler to be pigeonholed into any category to emerge as beautifully commercial. The Music Network 27.2.96....~ Living On A Volcano is a mature, deceptively simple collection of songs that belong together, sharing a thematic unity and stylistic cohesion that seduces the listener into keeping laser to disc. The songs seem to share a weary optimism while an undercurrent of menace or brooding hints at some kind of unease. Explorations of relationships, the tensions and ironies inherent, and song structure that is almost song classicist – think Brian Wilson, the Paul McCartney of Yesterday – sews the whole thing together. Helen’s lyrics explore the tender aspects of the above, while Mike’s tend to a resignation to the arbitrary nature of these things. The important thing is that they are placed within musical settings that are entirely appropriate, the mood of the music reflecting the sense of the lyric. This is sophisticated music played with affection and attention to detail, finely crafted adult pop music. Steve Hoy - Rhythms Feb. 1996...~

Tracklist 1 Living On A Volcano 4:45 2 Indian Summer 3:33 3 Having A Wonderful Time 2:45 4 Dancing At Midnight 3:17 5 Kneedeep 4:28 6 We Saw It Coming 3:44 7 Voice Of The Andes 5:16 8 (I Cannot) Look At The Moon 4:35 9 Waiting For A Sign 3:12 10 San Andreas 4:01 11 Almost Hollywood 4:05 12 How Far (Can This Thing Go On) 5:54 13 Circulate 4:08 14 You Are What You Are 

Mike Rudd Bill Putt "Rarities & Oddities" 2015

Tracklist Trust Me Going Home Dalmas Camel Advert Don't Hurt No More I'll Be Gone (Demo)

Mike Rudd Bill Putt "Bill`s Twang" 2013

Tracklist Get a Job Greenhouse Hey You! I Want That Woman Lisa's Song Out of My Brain Short Term Memory Loss Blues Sunday Afternoon The Goodbye Song The GST Blues

.........

Ariel “Rock & Roll Scars” 1975 Australia Prog Rock gem (feat Mike Rudd-Spectrum)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2016/09/ariel-rock-roll-scars-1975-australia.html

Mike Rudd & Ariel "Live at th Station Hotel” 1975 Australia Prog Rock (bootleg)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2019/03/mike-rudd-ariel-live-at-th-station.html

Ariel  "A Strange Fantastic Dream" 1973 Australia Prog Art Rock debut album

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2019/03/ariel-strange-fantastic-dream-1973.html

Ariel "Goodnight Fiona" 1976 + "Aloha"1977 + “The Jellaband Mutant”2002 CD (rec 1974 -75) + "Ariel Live!! - More From Before"1978 +  "Ariel Live In Concert" 1980 double LP Compilation +  "Ariel Aloha - Ariel Live!! More From Before" 2013 CD Compilation,  Australia Prog Pop Rock (Spectrum,Kahvas Jute,Tamam Shud,Chain,Jeff St John's Copperwine,Home,Richard Clapton Band...members)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/ariel-goodnight-fiona1976-aloha1977.html?view=flipcard

Mike Rudd And The Heaters "The Unrealist"1982 + "Submission 1979"1979 + "Live at The Sydney Myer Music Bowl" 1982 Australia Pub Rock,Pop Rock,New Wave

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/mike-rudd-and-heaters-unrealist1982.html

Chants R&B "Stage Door Witchdoctors"1995 + "Live 66 (The Stage Door Tapes)"1996 (1964 - 66) New Zealand Garage Rock,R & Blues,Freakbeat

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/chants-r-stage-door-witchdoctors1995.html

 Spectrum / Indelible Murtceps ‎ “Testimonial” 1973 Australia Prog Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2017/11/spectrum-indelible-murtceps-testimonial.html

 Spectrum  "Milesago" 1971 Australia Prog Rock double album

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2017/11/spectrum-milesago-1971-australia-prog.html

Spectrum  / Murtceps “Terminal Buzz"1973 Australia Prog Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2017/11/spectrum-murtceps-terminal-buzz1973.html

Spectrum “Part One” 1971 Australia Prog Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2017/05/spectrum-part-one-1971-australia-prog.html

Chants R&B "Stage Door Witchdoctors" 1995 + "Live 66 (The Stage Door Tapes)" 1996 (1964 - 66) New Zealand Garage Rock,R & Blues,Freakbeat  (Cam-Pact, Short Circuit, Skylight,Ariel,Mike Rudd And The Heaters, Sons Of The Vegetal Mother, Spectrum, The Party Machine,W.H.Y., Indelible Murtceps...members)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/chants-r-stage-door-witchdoctors1995.html?view=flipcard

Mike Rudd And The Heaters "The Unrealist"1982 + "Submission 1979"1979 + "Live at The Sydney Myer Music Bowl" 1982 Australia Pub Rock,Pop Rock,New Wave  (Ariel,Indelible Murtceps,Spectrum, W.H.Y.,Chants R&B,Sons Of The Vegetal Mother, Spectrum,The Party Machine....members)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/mike-rudd-and-heaters-unrealist1982.html?view=flipcard

The Indelible Murtceps “Warts Up Your Nose"1972 Australia Prog Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-indelible-murtceps-warts-up-your.html

Spectrum"Spill: Spectrum Plays The Blues"1999 + "Spectrum Plays The Blues : No Thinking"2004 + “Breathing Space”EP 2008 + "Breathing Space Too"2009  EP + "Breathing Space As Well" 2011 EP ,Australia Blues Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/spectrumspill-spectrum-plays-blues1999.html?view=magazine

Mike Rudd And Bill Putt "Living On A Volcano" 1995 + "Rarities & Oddities" 2015 + "Bill`s Twang" 2013 Australia Prog,Blues Rock,Classic Rock (Spectrum,Ariel..members)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/mike-rudd-and-bill-putt-living-on.html?view=flipcard

[writer1queenjaysblog]

I l o v e y o u!

(Yandere 4 town! Head cannons *smut warning ⚠️! )

•Ruby was the first girl in her home town to say she knows one of the 4town members

Her and Robaire knew each other since 1st grade.

•Robaire is very protective and can not let Ruby go anywhere by herself such as the store and elsewhere. He is very strict and a little controlling but he's reasonably.

•Is a perfectionist everything must be right for in his mind will make her happy but in reality she doesn't care like if a plate or something being out of place.

•Jesse is a romantic man and when it comes to his Ruby he can get violent and deadly

•She's his muse and he had 104 paintings of her and he has 200 to 304 pictures pf her in his phone and he uses them to paint.

•Loves looking at her and touching her, he and Robaire fight over her constantly like who's going to take her out on a date, who's cooking her favorite, and who gets to spoil her for the month.

•Their all deeply obsessed with her especially Aaron T and Z, they follow her everywhere and fantasize about her 24/7 and unlike Jesse and Robaire they don't argue about that much.

• Aaron Z is a cuddle bug and loves to hold her close to him when their watching a movie, tv show, or laying in bed. He kisses her neck, lips, cheeks, and on her body everywhere.

•Tae young is the most cutest yet manipulating his darling with his cute face and innocent facade he puts on.

He doesn't look like it but he can over power anyone who think they can beat him in a fight.

•Tae Young has a neat yet big knives and pocket knives collection in his room in a box which comes in handy if he needs to kill a rival and he always gets the same pocket knife but of different colors and designs so if the police ask him he'll denie it by cleaning it and then hide it in a unknown spot

•Aaron T is surprisingly strong 💪 he doesn't seem as ripped unless he take off his shirt and his muscles are shown shocking everyone. He can pick Ruby up easily and run off from the other members with ease

Ruby: "T put me down! Babe put me down!"

Aaron T: "Hmm..nope! 😃 😊 "

•Aaron T loves to kiss and hug Ruby that she laughs when he kisses her neck. He knows how to make her laugh and smile but if be sees someone else doing this it's war!

He's definitely the jealous type and won't hesitate to knock someone out for his baby girl.

•Robaire will lock her in his room if she tries to escape from him and he'll pin her down looking at her with those green eyes "You can't escape me or my love..mon amour I will always love you."

•Jesse is very protective and obsessive of Ruby and he tells her that he acts the way he does because he loves her and that he would do anything for her including murder.

"My love I'll do anything for you baby I love so much , my ex wife could never win me back no matter what she saids and does."

"Really?" "Yes I'm yours..and yours alone babe."

(Smut !🥵🥵🥵)

♡ Their sizes

•Jesse 9 inches

•Robaire 10 1/2

• Tae Young 7 inches

•Aaron T 8 inches

• Aaron Z 11 1/2 inches

♡ Aaron Z surprisingly has high stamina due to be active because of sports and work outs he do. He's strong enough to pick her up during sex or just take her from room to room

The others: *watching TV*

Aaron Z: *walking in the room with Ruby over his shoulder *

Ruby: " I told him I wasn't eating and he can't make me move into the kitchen so he can feed me and now we're here."

Jesse: "Baby you have to eat and take care of yourself also z how long are you going to hold my baby girl?"

Aaron Z: "Til bedtime plus she's sleeping in My bed tonight. "

♡Jesse is very clingy and won't let her out of his sight for a moment and he loves painting and drawing her no other woman can become his muse for the canvas let alone the camera.

♡ He's also a photographer and takes photos among lots of photos of her after sex and will keep them in a scrap book or in his wallet, phone, or on his wall next to a painting of her.

♡After sex Tae Young will cuddle with her and talk sweetly to her saying romantic sweet things in Korean. Robaire does the same in French.

♡Aaron T loves to tie her up and go rough and crazy along with aggressive which she loves.

♡Aarron Z and Tae Young like to talk dirty and naughty 😏 to Ruby in Korean since his mom is Korean 🇰🇷 and his dad is afro-german 🇩🇪

So this means that they have threesomes more often

♡Sixsomes happens a lot and sometimes she is unable to walk, sometimes she walks with a limp and some love marks on her body.

"You'll never escape us darling no matter what you do."

"Because mi amor we"

"Love you baby girl. "

"You don't know what you've done to me baby."

"I'm crazy about you babe really baby I am...I'll happily make you my second wife my beautiful muse~."

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Queen of Diamonds (Chapter 1): Kisaki Tetta x Fem!Reader

author's note: Well, if this isn't the fifth level of heaven, I don't know what is. Thank you IMMENSELY to my co-creator @thehypestdeano. You're the beacon among a mile of fog in the sea. I love you so much.

synopsis: Tetta Kisaki is a ruthless, busy, and unaffectionate man. He's also the kind of man to have a wife, who happens to be you. But that doesn't stop you from trying to have a little fun now and then.

wc: 1.3k

tw: smut, timeskip!Kisaki

👑 masterlist 👑 next chapter

song recommendation:

"Don't get caught leaving."

"Don't worry; I won't."

Your fingers work quickly at making the bed, trying to tuck the corners just like your maid did before you sent her home. You scan the bedroom for any signs of your indiscretion, looking under the bed for a loose condom or maybe a scrap of paper from the man's pockets that would uncover your secret shame. But when you're satisfied your entire shared bedroom is completely clear of anything and everything that could out you, you sigh in relief.

1:53 pm.

Tetta would be home in two hours.

You bite your lip and consider all of the things you can do in the meantime: scroll on your phone for another item to purchase, read a book, perhaps even try your hand at sewing on the machine collecting dust in the corner.

Instead of those things though, you opt to practice your lies, your smile, your unaffected glances in the mirror for the entire time, trying your best to think of any and all questions Tetta might ask you once he arrived home.

Of course, you can't really outthink him - but if you could just be one step behind him... maybe then you'd be alright. The door opens right on time - 4:00 pm - and your husband strolls in, phone jammed against his ear as he takes off his shoes in the foyer.

"I told him to have the shit ready by nine last night."

You walk to the balcony overlooking the foyer and peer down, watching him pass by with his business associate in tow - Shuji Hanma - and not spare you a glance. Shuji looks up however and gives a small wave before continuing into the living room, where they usually set up shop for the evening.

But - unusually - Tetta reappears, still on the phone, but coming up the stairs ever so slowly.

"Listen, Mucho, I-- I'm going to call you back in an hour. Do what I fucking pay you to do." The call is ended just as he stands before you, sighing as he pushes back his hair and glasses before rolling up his sleeves.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" you wonder softly, trying not to betray your fear.

"It's not over yet," he replies; not tersely, though. "I have more work to do tonight."

"More work to do".

It's always the same, you think to yourself as he walks into the bedroom. Work, business deals, running around in Tokyo and being The Tetta Kisaki, never just your husband, Tetta, like he should be.

"is there anything I can do to help?" you ask, but not because you really want to assist with his shady dealings. No, you want to know if you can be excused from being an attentive wife for tonight and maybe even call your sneaky link for a riveting round of phone sex to celebrate not getting caught.

"Not tonight," he sighs, taking the sheets off the bed, to your absolute horror. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yes," you breathe, watching him strip the bed down to the mattress pad and gather the bedding in his arms to take downstairs. "I-I can do that," you blubber, half-chasing him out of the room.

"No, I've got it. You rest your feet. I'll be up to change the sheets in a second."

That night, you can't sleep.

You lay awake in bed next to Tetta, alert as ever while he snores heavily with his back turned to you. Normally, you'll allow yourself a night of reprieve, relaxation, and true rest. A sleeping Tetta is harmless to the world... but you can't get rid of the thought that he might actually know you've done something awful.

Even when you give him his goodbye kiss the next morning, even when you make sure his suits make it back from dry cleaning, even when you try to nap to make up for the lost sleep... You can't seem to relax.

Will Tetta kick you out if he finds out? Send you back to your parent's home? Would he--

"I have to be away for a few days. I'm having Shuji come pick up my suits." You stare at the wall while you listen to Tetta's voice on the other end of the phone, fearing the worst.

"Oh, okay."

"I'll be back on Sunday."

"Right. Be safe."

"Always." He hangs up, leaving you alone in the house once more. Five whole days without Tetta. The realization doesn't set in until the next morning - when his normally neat and empty side of the bed is ruffled and occupied by your sneaky link. In all respects, he's completely the opposite of Tetta Kisaki.

He's got no obligations, no true motives or business, no reason to be hanging around here other than to fuck you stupid and eat. And it's refreshing to see him come and go as you please, instead of him coming and going on a set schedule every day.

Even your driver is careful not to impress upon the man that he needs to be off the property at any time. This is your chance at fun, your moment to enjoy yourself and be catered to the way you like - the way Tetta doesn't.

Mr. Kisaki never talks to you over breakfast like your fling does - because he's never there. Tetta doesn't run his fingers over your skin like your fling does, because he never touches you at night. He never crawls over to your side of the bed and kisses your skin until you wake up or holds you close enough so you can feel his breath on your shoulder. Tetta just gives you money, gives you a car, a house, a ring, some helpers, and calls it a marriage.

But it's not enough without someone to hold you close and whisper that they love you - or at least that they love being inside of you.

On the last day of your freedom, you watch your fling drive down the driveway with a wistful glance.

If only you could have both.

When Tetta arrives, you already feel the impending doom of having to suffer through a lonely evening, but instead of him going straight to the living room again, he comes up to your room, peering past the slightly ajar door.

"Hey," Tetta breathes, and you turn your head away from the darkened view outside, still sitting on the window sill.

"Hey," you reply, trying to look as happy as you can.

"Come here." While you stand and straighten your silk robe, he collects his cufflinks in one hand and lets them fall onto the bedside table, then angles his head towards the door. You warily take a few steps behind him, walking down the stairs, and into the ornate living room. Perhaps this is just one of his unannounced date nights, you think to yourself as he sits on the couch, his eyes focused on the screen as he turns it on.

You nestle in beside him, as you're wont to do on movie nights, and then the screen flicks on, displaying something familiar.

Then it hits you.

It's the front yard, the backyard, the pool, the driveway -- the driveway. Ice floods through your veins, but you can't fucking move.

"Alright," Tetta murmurs, placing his arm around you gently. "I just want you to see something." He pauses for a second, the presses play. "This is Wednesday." The screen begins to play each scene as it tracks movement.

A car drives up.

You wave at it from the door in your tennis outfit.

A man comes out and approaches you, then another camera catches the kiss.

"And Thursday."

Other scenes display your interactions on Thursday as you roam about the backyard, your hands full of a beach ball. You playfully toss it to the man and he passes it back, then grabs you and jumps into the pool.

"Friday."

You're fucking your fling in the kitchen, moaning his name loudly as he pumps into you, your tits shaking and his hands gripping your ass. "That's some good dick, huh, Mrs. Kisaki?"

"Saturday."

And in the laundry room. "Oh, fuck me, please..."

"Today."

And, finally, on the balcony.

All on film.

Right in front of you.

[movedtodykedvonte]

What aesthetic do u think the animatronics would wear if they were human?

I've thought about this so fucking much you don't understand

GLAMROCK FREDDY

I would go the route and say dad attire but he's a glam rocker. Yeah he's a kids performer but that would bleed into everyday fashion

Like he'd dress like a himbo, ripped jeans, a shirt that he either can't or doesn't button all the way that has a bunch of decals and such on it

Flat colors but a lot of colors, like I unironically think he'd dress like a wholesome Bratt from Despicable Me 3 (awful I know) with a bit more spikes

GLAMROCK CHICA

A jazzercize ad. Spandex or those crazy print-covered leggings and has a whole collection of leg warmers. Sweatbands and uses shapewear as an accessory

Tamer style I feel like she'd just dress like a barbie doll, glittery and in your face in a cute way. Does add contrast with a darker or studded piece of jewelry

Neon or just brightly colored things, you can tell she still shops at claire's and probably has like scented shirts/jewelry they sold. ( I had there cookies and milk scented earrings)

ROXANNE WOLF

Do I even have to say it? She's a weird mix of scene, emo and punk. Like oddly colorful but still brooding and haughty in a way. A lot of spikes, ripped fishnets, chains.

Shorts or like reeeeeally ripped jeans, the whole front of the leg may be gone. Demonias. Kinda like a grunge Bratz doll to Chica's neon barbie doll

Neon green and purple are her go-to for color but then it's mostly reds, blacks, and greys. Probs have a few girly fits that Chica picked for her. (She had an image to uphold but she loves them)

MONTGOMERY GATOR

Punk and grunge but also like, country-esque. I do have to remind y'all he's a cajun gator, not a Florida one. Surprisingly no ripped jeans but I feel like he'd own a lot of baggy leather. Maybe like a greaser?

Wife beaters, chains, lots of jewelry that's just like scrap metal. Mesh and fishnet under his shirts is a requirement. Steel toes shoes with those spikes on em.

Green and purple obviously, with splashes of red to compliment those gorgeous eyes he hides. If you played the Urbz, he dresses like a calmer and slightly more colorful version of the sims from the central station district.

SUNRISE & MOONDROP

This is a tricky one cause I don't know if they are the same person or different people. Here's if they are one person. You know those shirts and pants where it's like a split in half design/color or you can like invert it into a new shirt, yeah they have that

Sunrise would have those reflective shirts, button-ups, and crop tops. Things that are flowy and easy to flip around in or get off. Probs dresses like a carnie. Yellows and oranges, lots of warm colors

Moondrop is emo and I stand by that. Baggy clothes, not necessarily oversized but hides their form. Skinny jeans or sweats, nothing in between. Things that you could sleep in but still be spry in. Cool colors obviously with off whites like Ivory.

GLAMROCK BONNIE

Thought I wouldn't add him, huh. He's my fav, of course, he's here. Now HE dresses like a fucking dad. Like did you see how he looked in the bowling alley? That's a shirt he wears daily and he doesn't care

Funky-designed button-ups that look like a bowling alley or arcade floor or like your grandma's couch. I'll give him the grace of normal jeans but I swear on my life he'd wear khaki shorts/pants. A walking fashion disaster that makes it work. Suspenders and a bowtie

I feel like he shops at Khol's and Walmart because he truly believes the best stuff is there and no one can convince him otherwise. I'm also projecting cause I dress like this.

[ink-flavored]

ink-flavored writeblr intro!

hello writeblr, my name is Annika (she/her & he/him)! i hail from the southern USA, i‘m in my 20s, and i’ve been reading and writing for most of my life. as you can tell from my subtitle, that includes both original and fanfiction, which is the content you’ll see on my blog! I do writing commissions too! Check out my request sheet.

bonus facts about me: i have a BFA in Creative Writing for Entertainment, i was a dancer for 13 years (and i still dance as a hobby), i bake in my spare time, and i love dragons so much.

what i write

i got my start in high fantasy, and have since expanded to urban fantasy, sci-fi, romance, and poetry. thanks to my BFA, i have working knowledge of film & TV scripts, comic scripts, and video game writing. i don’t often write in script formats for my own amusement, but i do have a series of guides on scriptwriting that i do for follower milestones!

most of the actual content you’ll see me posting is prose - WIPs, short stories, and idea scraps i throw to the wind on occasion - and poetry. they can cover any of the genres i’ve listed above, and i also have a magnetic poetry series going on (see it below!).

you’ll also see posts about my fic updates. in the past, i’ve written for Yu-Gi-Oh!, Critical Role, Overwatch, and countless unposted fics from a dozen other fandoms, but these days i have slowed down my fanfic writing to focus more on my original projects. my ratings are all over the place, so please read the tags!

original WIPs

Pride & Justice

Paranormal romance | a demon and an angel escape as fugitives from Heaven to Earth, and discover a new home in each other 

Tales from Athendrolyn

Urban fantasy | anthology | a collection of tales from one city’s fantastical citizens

Athendrolyn After Dark

Urban fantasy erotica | anthology | a collection of erotic tales from one city’s fantastical citizens

The God-Dragon’s Wife

High fantasy/romance | a queen marries a dragon in exchange for her peoples’ safety.

Unnamed Dream WIP

High fantasy | when dangerous magical artifacts start falling from the sky, a mage must discover the truth with his nation working against him

Henry & Priscilla

Crime Noir | short fiction | a mobster couple, nicknamed Hades and Persephone, fight marriage troubles as well as threats on their lives.

Firesoul

High fantasy | a mage leads a revolution in her war-mongering home country.

Out of the Park

Science fiction | a robot joins a professional baseball team.

fanfiction

Come find me on Ao3 or on my discord server!

Angle of Approach

E | yugioh | puzzleshipping | AU - country club | 27 planned chapters

AU-gust 2022 Series

Ratings Vary | yugioh | puzzleshipping | prompt list | 31 unrelated one-shots

poetry

Magnet Monday

series/collection | a series of magnet poems, voted on by my readers

SIN QUEERLY YOURS

collection | poems about being gay as hell

Fear, Me

collection | poems about my journey with mental health and anxiety

The Theory of Love

collection | poems about romance and finding love in all aspects of life

Life, Death, and Other Mild Topics

collection | poems about my personal observations of the world

outro

thanks for reading this far! if you’re interested in what else i do, i also have a portfolio site and a ko-fi !

i hope you enjoy what i have to offer!

[dragonkeeper19600]

Jaws: The Musical (Concept)

So, out of curiosity, I looked online to see if anyone had ever adapted a musical from Jaws. There is a musical called Bruce that’s scheduled to debut in Seattle next year about the production of Jaws (and I would be interested in seeing that), but as for a musical of the Jaws story itself, I found one that’s for kids and about 48 minutes long.

Now, I’ve never seen this musical, so I cannot attest as to its quality, but, in my opinion, both of those choices are wrong. This musical should be the full two acts, and it should be aimed at adults. 

I’ve been brainstorming, and I think I’ve got a hypothetical musical all mapped out. You might think a musical based on Jaws is silly, but a lot of successful musicals have been adapted from really strange things (such as a comic book artist’s coming-out memoir, a crappy Roger Corman movie, and a collection of goofy cat poems), and I feel like a Jaws musical could be really epic. The story easily lends itself into a two-act structure. The first act is the shark attacks on Amity Island, and the second act is the hunt for the shark in the Orca. 

However, the musical wouldn’t make the mistake of putting lyrics to John Williams’s iconic Jaws theme. The theme would obviously be used as a leitmotif throughout the show, but it’s not the type of song that lends itself to lyrics, and I think that would be corny,

So, the musical would play out like this:

ACT ONE:

The movie opened with Chrissie’s death, so the stage show will do the same. The scene will be short and all dialogue, no singing. The shark will also not be seen, but its presence will be implied by the music, lighting, and Chrissy’s acting.

First song: “Welcome to Amity Island.” Functions as an intro to the setting of Act One. The tone is joyous and celebratory as the islanders welcome the flood of tourists that always come in the summer. A big portion of the song is sung by Mayor Vaughn as he sings about what a wonderful vacation spot Amity Island is. We also meet Brody, and a dark undercurrent is introduced to the song as he finds Chrissy’s mangled body.

Brody, of course, takes steps to close the beach right away, but he’s stopped by the Mayor, who sings the second song, “Summer Dollars,” where the Mayor insists that closing the beaches is bad for the town and that Brody shouldn’t be causing an unnecessary panic and causing hysteria that could drive tourists away. Brody tries to argue back but in the end, Vaughn has his way.

Brody returns to the station, apprehensive about keeping the beaches open. Here, we’re introduced to Brody’s wife, Ellen, who saw no problem with visiting him at work since nothing ever happens on Amity Island. Brody expresses his uneasiness, but Ellen assures him that his fear of the water is making him overestimate the danger. This gets Brody’s coworkers curious, so, with a little prompting from Ellen, Brody sings his first solo, “Drowning,” about his fear of the water. In the song, Brody sings about a childhood incident where a bully held him underwater at a public swimming pool. Not only did this give him a fear of water, but the bullying he received as a child is what set him on the path to become a cop, since he wanted to be able to protect people from suffering the same mistreatment he did. However, he moved from New York City because the working environment there was unfriendly to cops who wish to protect and serve instead of, well, being typical American cops.

Next song: “Blue Sky” Just as the Mayor wished, the beaches are open, and summer is in full swing. Brody is there with his family, anxiously keeping an eye on the water. The rest of the ensemble doesn’t share his anxiety, however, as they frolic and play in the sun. Brody is jolted to his feet several times by the sound of screaming, but it’s always a false alarm. However, the mood turns scary as we segue into the next song:

“Shark!” - While out swimming on his raft, young Alex Kintner is attacked and eaten. Brody sees it and screams the title of the song. It’s pandemonium as people rush out of the water, and the song is fast-paced and chaotic. However, it ends on a mournfully quiet note as Mrs. Kintner calls for her son. (”Alex? Alex!?”)

Quick scene transition, and we move immediately into he next song, called “Something Must Be Done.” Here, at a town council meeting, the townspeople argue back and forth about what to do about their shark problem. I imagine the music here sounding like the “Mayor’s Meeting” theme from The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. Brody argues strongly in favor of closing the beaches (in song, of course), but he is shut down not only by the Mayor but by the rest of the townspeople, who still rely on the income brought in by the tourists. People throw around various suggestions, with one woman finally declaring that she’ll reward whoever catches the shark with three thousand dollars. The song descends into a cacophony as people argue over each other.

The noise is interrupted by the screech of nails on a chalkboard. It’s Quint who sings the titular song, “Jaws,” as he sings about his job as a shark hunter and how dangerous sharks can be. (”Those jaws will swallow you whole. / A little shakin’, tenderizing’, down you go.”) He offers to kill the shark for ten grand, not three. The woman who made the offer balks at the high price, and the Mayor explains that kind of money isn’t in the budget “right now.” Quint takes it in stride and tells everyone they’ll know where to find him if they change their minds. He’s supposedly addressing the room, but he looks right at Brody as he says it. He can tell Brody is the only one who will actually listen.

Many sailors of various aptitudes come to Amity Island, hoping to catch the shark and cash in on that three thousand dollars. Among the new arrivals is Hooper, who introduces himself to Brody as a marine biologist from the Oceanographic Institute. Hooper sings his intro song, “Beautiful,” referring to his views on sharks. Hooper recounts how he was bitten by a shark as a child, but instead of coming to fear them, Hooper walked away fascinated by them and now views sharks to be beautiful creatures. However, the song takes a somber note as Hooper is brought in to examine Chrissie’s remains, and the word “Beautiful” is shifted from referring to sharks to referring to Chrissie when she was alive. (“She was just a kid. / So much of life to live. / Now, bits and scraps are all that’s left. / Of a girl who was once so beautiful.”)

“Hell of a Fish” - The fishermen succeed in catching a large tiger shark, presumed to be the shark that killed Alex and Chrissie. Brody joins in the celebratory atmosphere, but Hooper examines the dead shark’s teeth and is convinced they’ve got the wrong fish. The Mayor and the fisherman who caught the tiger shark argue that this is the shark that’s been causing the trouble, while Hooper argues back that it’s definitely not. Hooper angrily demands that he be allowed to dissect the shark to confirm whether there are human remains inside, but Mayor Vaughn rejects his request. He doesn't care if they’ve got the right shark. He doesn’t believe a third attack will happen either way. (”We’ve got a hell of a fish to show. / And shark attacks are pretty rare, you know?”) 

This song is interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Kintner, in funeral attire, who goes up to Brody and slaps him. She then sings “My Boy Is Dead,” a slow, tragic lament about her son, Alex. (“He was just a boy. His whole life still ahead. / Now, I’ll never know what he would’ve been. / Because my boy is dead.”) Mrs. Kintner blames Brody for not warning the town after Chrissie’s death, and Brody takes the blame to heart. The song ends with a callback to “Hell of a Fish,” as Hooper bitterly remarks that he hopes Mayor Vaughn is right about the tiger shark being the culprit, otherwise there’s a “hell of a fish” still out there somewhere.

“Cloud on the Horizon” - Song is kicked off by a TV reporter, who delivers a brief story to the audience about the recent shark attacks on Amity Island. The holiday-making resumes on Amity’s beaches, but people are more nervous than before, The ensemble sings amongst themselves about whether they should go in the water. They finally do so with a little encouragement from the Mayor. Meanwhile, Brody encourages his son Michael to stay in the shallow pond.

“Shark! (Reprise)” - A shark fin is spotted in the water, and the ensemble takes up the alarm, scrambling while frantically singing a reprise of “Shark!” However, the alarm dies down when the fin is revealed to be a fake worn by a swimmer. However, a lone woman takes up the cry again as the shark is spotted swimming toward the pond where Michael is. The music ramps up as the shark takes down a boater mere feet away from Michael, and the audience gets their first clear view of the shark.

“Red Sea” - The song functions as a reprise of “Blue Sky,” but also contains musical elements from “My Boy is Dead.” Brody pulls his son Michael out of the water, unsure of whether he’s still alive. Luckily, Michael is only in shock. Ellen runs to call for an ambulance. As he waits by Michael’s body, Brody sings his second solo, loudly berating everyone in town, including himself, for allowing this to happen three times. All of the beachgoers, including the Mayor, are cowed by his song.

“(Can’t Find) a Good Man” - This is the first song between all three crew members of the Orca. Brody goes to hire Quint to kill the shark, agreeing to pay whatever he wants. Quint knows he has Brody by the balls and keeps upping the price, demanding additional payments like various kinds of booze and a color TV in addition to the ten thousand dollars. Brody agrees to all of it, but Quint’s one crew member refuses to go out after the shark, so Quint fires him. Hooper and Brody volunteer to go along, but Quint is reluctant to bring them aboard. He contemplates whether he should go alone, since Hooper and Brody will be useless on deck. Hooper loudly argues that he's qualified and “doesn’t need this working class hero crap,” but Brody is more gentle and persuasive. He reminds Quint that his own son was nearly killed by this shark and feels he owes it to both his family and the town to help in whatever way he can. Quint is won over by Brody’s humility and agrees to take them both on.

“Farewell, Amity Island” - Reprise of “Welcome to Amity Island” and the Act One Finale. Like “Welcome to Amity Island,” this is a huge ensemble number, this time centering around the Orca’s upcoming departure. Several characters come to see the ship off as Quint yells at Hooper and Brody, including the Mayor and Ellen. The Mayor apologizes to Brody (“I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. / My own children were there in that same red sea.”), where Ellen bids a tearful farewell, knowing she might never see Brody again. Brody’s sung farewells are intercut with a spoken back and forth between Quint and Hooper, as Quint snarks at everything Hooper does. The song also contains instrumental traces of “Spanish Ladies.” Brody and Ellen’s embrace is broken up by Quint as the Orca shoves off.

ACT TWO:

After the act two opener (which is an instrumental of “Jaws,” the song Quint sang earlier), we return to the Orca where Quint fishes off the stern, loudly singing “Spanish Ladies” a cappella. It sounds pretty good, but he’s interrupted by Hooper, who yells that he’s been listening to Quint sing for three hours and can’t take it any more. Brody has no choice but to listen to the ensuing back and forth as he chums the water. 

The childish behavior is interrupted when Quint gets a bite. He's convinced it’s the shark, but Hooper, still annoyed with Quint, believes it’s some kind of sport fish. Hooper begrudgingly goes to help Quint pull in the line, but a moment of inattention causes the line to snap.

“City Hands” - Quint berates Hooper for losing the shark and trying to tell a professional shark hunter how to hunt sharks. Their animosity finally erupts into an angry duet as they hurl very personal insults at each other, with Hooper calling Quint a drunken, senile sea dog, while Quint berates Hooper for being a coddled, privileged city boy. Their musical fight looks like it’ll get physical when Hooper snatches the beer Quint was drinking out of his hand and chucks it into the ocean. Luckily, Brody breaks it up, pointedly reminding them why they’re here and that they don’t need to be at each other’s throats when the shark will gladly do that for them. Quint sheepishly apologizes to Brody and only Brody. Hooper likewise backs down.

Brody returns to chumming the water only to toss a shovelful of chum directly into the shark’s face. The shark is right beside the Orca, and it’s huge. There is an instrumental score but no singing as all three men work together to try and bring in the shark. The shark seems unfazed by all the bullets and harpoons they shoot into it, but they manage to attach one barrel to the shark. Quint is satisfied that the shark will tire itself out with the barrel attached and that all they have to do is wait it out. Brody is all for returning to shore and calling the Coast Guard, but Quint ignores him.

Scene transition, and we’re in the ship’s cabin that night. All three men are staying up to wait for the shark, and they’ve had a bit to drink. Quint catches Brody examining the rope burn he got on his hand earlier in the day and reassures him that it won't leave a permanent scar. This segues into the duet “Something Permanent,” as Hooper and Quint compare scars. The tone isn’t angry and harsh as before but jovial and upbeat. Clearly, the earlier animosity is forgiven. 

“Those Eyes” - This is Quint’s solo about the sinking of the Indianapolis. Brody asks Quint about a scar on his arm that he hasn’t mentioned. Quint offhandedly mentions it’s a tattoo he had removed. When Hooper makes a joke about it being a “Mother” tattoo, Quint informs him it’s actually for the U.S.S. Indianapolis. Hooper clearly knows the story, but Brody doesn't, so Quint tells it. The song is slow and eerie. The words “those eyes” are used to refer to both the sharks’ eyes and the eyes of his crew mates as they were devoured or lay dead in the water. Quint sings that he still sees those eyes looming up at him in the dark of the night. He then catches the looks on Brody and Hooper’s faces and chuckles darkly, telling them not to look at him with “those eyes.” After all, they delivered the bomb. No one comments on this, but all three men have now sung their backstories at some point in the show.

Hooper quietly starts to sing “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” The other two join in. Their singing is interrupted by the shark ramming into the ship.

The crew scramble back on deck. Quint, his mind still swimming in the memory of the Indianapolis, wildly fires a rifle at the shark, but he only succeeds in driving it away, Hooper goes belowdeck  to assess the damage. The ship can still run, but it’s struggling. Brody loudly advocates returning to shore, but Quint refuses.

The shark returns, leading to the next song, “Barrels.” The song has a lot of dialogue and instrumental but also functions as a reprise of “Something Permanent,” as Quint gleefully proclaims his intent to leave “something permanent” on the shark. The crew manages to attach three barrels to the shark, but they lose track of it again. 

Quint decides that since barrels and weapons don’t seem to be working, and the ship is only becoming more damaged, that the thing to do is lure the shark back to shore and drown it in the shallow water. Hooper warns Quint that he’s overtaxing the engine, but Quint only leans harder on the throttle. The engine gives out. 

Brody goes to the radio to call the Coast Guard for help but is shocked when Quint smashes the radio with a baseball bat before the message can get out. This leads to an even angrier reprise of “City Hands,” now with Brody insulting Quint instead of Hooper, calling him “certifiable.” Quint shouts more than sings that he can handle it and he doesn’t need rescuing “this time.” The song shifts to the slower, gentler melody that was used when Brody calmed Hooper and Quint before as Quint tells Brody he vowed that would never be helpless in the water again. Both Brody and Hooper, who was heard the entire outburst, are struck silent.

“Beautiful (Reprise)” - Hooper somberly volunteers to be lowered into the anti-shark cage. Brody argues against it, but, for once, Quint is willing to hear Hooper out. Hooper sings about how putting himself in harm’s way is his only chance to the tune of his intro song, “Beautiful.” Hooper then admits that Quint is right, he hasn’t been through what Quint has, but he’s willing to try and prove his worth. Quint and Brody realize they don't have much choice and agree.

Hooper goes into the cage. Brody takes Hooper’s glasses, and Hooper gives them both one last look before he puts on his mask and goes under. 

“In the Cage” - Instrumental. While below the water (which is just another part of the stage covered in blue spotlights), Hooper tries to attack the shark with the syringe on the end of a spear, but he drops it. The shark begins to break its way into the cage, but Hooper manages to escape and hides behind some rocks, apologizing to the men above for failing.

Quint and Brody, of course, can’t hear him, nor can they see what’s happening below. Quint and Brody pull up the cage to find it mangled and empty. Brody is devastated, thinking that Hooper is dead, but Quint seems to be truly unraveling. He sings a shaky reprise of “Those Eyes,” this time obsessing over the look Hooper gave them before he went under. He frantically recalls that he saw the same look on the faces of his crew mates after the sinking of the Indianapolis. Tragically, the song also functions as a callback to “My Boy Is Dead.” (”It’s far too late for me now to take back the things I’ve said. / They’ll haunt me ‘til my dying day. / Because that boy is dead.”)

“Quint’s End” - Instrumental, spoken dialogue. Quint can’t get the last image of Hooper out of his mind and begs him to stop looking at him like that. Brody is alarmed as Quint’s pleas to Hooper change to pleas to his dead crew mate, Herbie Robinson. Quint has slid into a full-blown PTSD flashback. In his mind, he’s back in the waters of the Pacific thirty years ago, surrounded by sharks and dead crew mates. Brody tries to calm Quint down by reminding him where he is, but at that moment, the shark leaps onto the stern, and the Orca lists backwards. (In my head, the Orca set is on some kind of platform that can be raised at an incline.) Both men begin to slide toward the waiting jaws of the shark. Brody manages to grab onto the door frame leading into the cabin. He tries to hold onto Quint, but Quint slips out of his hand. Quint tries to fight back against the shark, but with a sickening crunch, Quint falls silent. The shark retreats with Quint’s lifeless body.

“Smile!” - Payback time. The Orca is sinking fast, and Brody knows that if he ends up in the water, it’s game over. Brody manages to ward the shark off with one of Hooper’s scuba tanks. The shark takes the scuba tank into its mouth, giving Brody the chance to climb onto the mast with Quint’s rifle. The music ramps up in speed and intensity as the shark closes in. Brody’s singing ramps up to match as he fires at the shark again and again, reminding himself of his promise to protect others and vowing that this shark will never kill anyone again. Then, with a final, bombastic, “So, smile you son of a bitch!” he gets a hit on the tank, and the shark explodes. He whoops and hollers as the music swells.

The finale instrumental is both sad and sweet. The sinking mast deposits Brody in the water. Hooper surfaces besides him. They laugh together, relieved that it’s over. Hooper asks about Quint, but Brody only responds with the single word, “No.” Hooper and Brody are close enough to paddle back to shore, so they do just that. As they set off, Brody begins to sing, “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” Hooper joins in. The curtain falls.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 2 | Be Careful with Clive, I Have Grown Attached to Him

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom and Molly are now married.  Surprise! These two talk about the logistics of Tom’s half-baked plan.  And Molly moves to London to face the firing squad, aka the paparazzi.  

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

After they signed the license along with the apostille, there had been dancing. That much Molly remembered. And drinking. Specifically drinking champagne. Tom danced with abandon, pulling Molly into the whirlwind of activity he created around him.

But now it was morning, and Molly woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own. She groaned as her head pounded, having forgotten that champagne and her have a love-hate relationship. Molly saw the faint outline of Tom asleep on the couch, his long body stretched out, still wearing his suit from last night. After glancing at the alarm clock, Molly fell back asleep.

Several hours, Molly woke up again and headed to the bathroom, not noticing the now opened curtains.

“Hey good lookin, Whatcha got cookin,” Tom’s voice twanged as he stepped out of the shower. His head pounded a bit, but not the worst hangover he had.

“AHHH!!!” Molly screamed as she stepped into the bathroom.

They both froze, which was more embarrassing for Tom, as at least Molly was still wearing her dress from last night.

“You’re naked.” Molly blinked, her head darting around the room until she focused on an interesting corner of the room.

Tom chuckled, grabbing a towel and wrapping it loosely around his waist. “I don’t normally shower in my clothes. You can look back now.”

She slowly turned back around. “Sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “I should have knocked.”

“It’s quite alright.” He moved towards the door. “Shower is yours and we should talk things over.”

Molly nodded. “We should.”

While Molly showered, Tom dressed in the other room. After finding a clean t-shirt for Molly to wear over her dress until she could change, he called the airlines and changed his single ticket for that morning to a later flight for two, fishing Molly’s ID out of her wallet.

“Thanks for the shirt.” she stepped out.

“It looks good on you.” Tom gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Would you like some breakfast?” Her stomach growled. They both laughed. “That would be a yes.” Tom shoved the room service menu. “Order what you like.”

She selected an egg white frittata while Tom got the pancakes. Tom put in the order and returned his attention to Molly.

“So let’s talk about how this will work.” Tom shifted in his seat.

“An excellent idea. You mentioned living together in London. When do we leave?”

“This afternoon.”

Molly coughed. “That quick?”

“I’m afraid so.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in his lap. She noticed he was still wearing the spider ring. “I have work obligations back home and in order for it to be believable you would need to live with me.”

“Naturally.” Molly slapped her thighs. “So after breakfast, I can head back to my apartment, pack up what little I have, say goodbye to my roommate, and change into appropriate clothing. And you need to get us some proper rings.” She waved her hot pink ring in the air. “Unless of course you intend for your bride to wear a ring from the top of a cupcake.”

“Only if I get to keep my ring. I’ve grown quite attached to Clive.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You named the spider?”

“Yes.” There was a knock on the door. “That will be the food. Allow me.” He disappeared and returned shortly with a rolling table, ladened with food. Tom poured a cup of coffee and offered one to Molly.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“I can have them bring up a teapot.”

“I’m pretty sure there are some complimentary ones in the room. Now,” She cut into her food and took a bite. “how will everything else work? Living with you, your life, the paparazzi? That is the whole point of this charade.”

“You do get down to business. So yes, I would expect you to live in my home. In a separate bedroom, I can set up another room as an office for you. We would need to attend events together and generally appear as a loving couple on the outside.”

“And my debts? That is part of the deal, right?”

“Right,” Tom gazed over at her while eating his pancakes. “I would assume the payments while we are together, and after the divorce is final, I would pay off any balance. I would also take care of your daily expenses while we are married. You are welcome to work if you want, but I will give you spending money.”

“So I would be a trophy wife?” Her brown eyes glinted.

Tom waved his hands in front of him. “Not that is not what I meant… I…”

“I am kidding, Tom. If you prefer, I can not work. I don’t mind. Give me some time to figure things out.” A thought came to her. “What about…” Molly searched for the words. “… other needs? Or if you wish to engage in a romantic relationship?” Her cheeks blushed as the words fell out of her mouth.

Tom blushed as well. “I have great self-control and I think if either of us get to that point, we can discuss it. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“And I don’t want you to be trapped either. I guess that is as good of an answer I could expect. Anything you want to ask me?”

Tom stared at Molly. The air hung heavy. “Do you regret saying yes?”

“No. Do you regret asking?”

“No.”

Molly downed the rest of her juice. “Well then, it is all settled. I am going to take off to pack. And you have some shopping to do. My ring size is a 7.”

Tom finished up the last bite of pancakes. “Right. We need to leave here by 3 to make it to the airport.”

“I shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Do you have a key to the room I could borrow?”

Tom fished one out of his discarded jacket’s pocket. “Here I will have the front desk make me another one.”

She tapped the key against her nails. “Thanks, Tom. For the help and for being a decent guy.”

“I should be thanking you.”

“You already have.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

-

Tom headed downstairs, asked the front desk for a new key to the room, and also inquired where the nearest jewelry store might be. The front clerk handed him a key and directed him to a small collection of luxury stores in the hotel. He found Tiffanys and purchased a classic platinum solitaire engagement ring and plain platinum band for Molly and a yellow gold band for himself.

Molly wasn’t back when he returned, so he set about packing up for the flight. His phone buzzed. Luke.

It appears you had a good time in Vegas. The papers say you are drowning your sorrows. Looks like the story is here to stay. Call me when you wake up from your nap at home.

Tom typed back.

I did have a good time. I have a feeling the papers will soon find another story soon. Still in Vegas, taking a later flight. Talk to you soon.

His phone rang. He clicked it off, seeing it was Luke. Rather to get all the yelling done in person. The door opened and Molly came in, dragging a suitcase behind.

“Sorry! My roommate had questions.”

“So does my publicist.”

Tom took in Molly for the first time, really. Outside of the light of a casino floor. And not in a wedding dress purchased for fifty dollars on the way to the chapel. She wore faded jeans, a pair of beat up black Converse and a boxy white tee tucked in. A large black cardigan tucked under her arm. Dark hair in a bun. Quite lovely, if Tom told the truth.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her brows knitted together.

“Not yet.” Tom tucked his phone into his jean pocket. “Here.” He pulled out the little blue bag.

Molly gasped. “I thought you would go buy some costume jewelry. This is too much.”

“Nonsense. This marriage may be fake, but the jewelry will be real.” Tom opened up the boxes. “May I do the honors?”

Molly held out her hand, and Tom slipped off the plastic ring before replacing it with the wedding set. “Much better. And yours?”

Tom slapped the box into her hand. “Be careful with Clive.” Molly pursed her lips as she pulled off the spider ring and replaced it with the gold band, putting the plastic ring in the Tiffanys box. “Here you go. Clive’s new home.”

Tom tucked the box into his luggage. “Ready to go?”

Molly rocked back on her heels. “Yep.”

Tom held out his arm. “Let’s go home, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

-

The flight back was uneventful, Molly and Tom dozed off, leaning against each other for support. Molly woke up first. She stared down at her rings. This was not how she expected this weekend going. Molly thought she would scrap together enough tips to make an extra payment on her credit card. Not flying to London with a Tiffany diamond ring on her finger and a famous actor as her husband.

“Life does throw you curveballs from time to time.”

“What was that, darling?” Tom muttered, stretching in his seat.

“Just commenting on the craziness of all of this to myself.” She held out her hand again. Tom laced his fingers with hers.

“I have done the same thing myself. Now when we land, there will probably be paparazzi around. Are you up for getting this whole thing off and running?”

Molly perked up. “What do I need to do?”

-

Tom tightly gripped Molly’s hand throughout the concourse and baggage claim. They eyed the doors.

“Ready?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“I promise to be gentle.” Tom squeezed back, smiling.

As they stepped through the doors, Tom flashed a killer smile and Molly did as well, giggling as his arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Molly melted against him, making sure her rings were visible as she cupped his cheek. She was right, Tom was an excellent kisser. After making sure any photographers had plenty of time to snap a pic, they parted.

“Think they got my good side?” Molly giggled.

“Do you have a bad side?” Tom asked.

“Just wait and see. Now take me home, darling!” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically.

“Drama queen.” Tom pinched her side.

-

Tom’s home was cozy and clean. Definitely a bachelor’s home, as evidenced by the empty fridge except for a few bottles of beer and some questionable brown sauce.

“I can go shopping later.” Tom dragged a toe along the kitchen floor.

“I can go shopping later.” She reached up and smacked his face playfully. “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t feed my husband?”

“Fair point. I will call the bank tomorrow and get a card in your name. Just run any big purchases past me first. And we will need to get your name changed, passport, etc. I can have someone help you.” Tom prattled on.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of the place first?”

Tom held out his arm. “This way.”

Tom’s book collection was impressive along with his collection of movies.

“I clear some space if you need it.”

“I only packed clothes. My roommate is selling the rest, including my car and wiring me the money.”

“Oh.” Tom’s face fell. “Let me show you the bedrooms.”

He showed you a small guest room. “This could be an office for you and next door is a bigger bedroom for you.” Tom hustled along the hallway to open the next door. “Here.”

It was a bigger room with a queen bed and a wardrobe. Spare and clearly used for company.

“It will do just fine. And the bathroom is across the hall which is nice. Where’s your room?”

Tom made his way to the end of the hall and opened the door to his room, decorated in tones of grey and navy. A large king sized bed taking up most of the room along with a dresser. A bathroom en suite and a small closet completed the space.

“Very nice. Do you mind if I steal the color palette to decorate my room?”

“Please do. I never got around to decorate it. My sisters and mother are the only ones who stay in there.”

Molly paled a bit. She hadn’t thought about Tom’s family. “I supposed I will meet them soon.”

“I supposed so. It would be odd for my wife not to meet them. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Molly rocked back and forth. “Now why don’t I go shopping and you unpack and relax?”

“I would feel better if I came with you. You are in a different country, a strange city. And what if you have problems with the card?”

“Then let’s go and you can point out some of your favorite foods.”

“It’s a deal.”

-

“When I said pick out your favorite foods, I didn’t expect it to be only sweets. Did I marry a seven-year-old?”

“I’m 35, thank you. and I enjoy those sweets.”

“You eat like a college frat boy.”

“Guilty.”

“That is definitely changing now that I am around. You can’t continue to eat like that. There are things called vegetables.”

Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve heard of those.”

“Get out of here!” Molly swatted at him. “I am certain you have things to attend to, and I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen. And yes.” Molly smirked.

“I yield! I yield. I’ll be in my study if you need me.” Tom walked out of the kitchen and towards his study.

He spied his phone sitting on the desk, still off from the flight. By now, any pictures should have been posted somewhere. Tom collapsed into his desk chair and clicked the phone on. While he waited for it to start up, he could overhear Molly puttering about in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she put away the groceries.

Buzz. Ten messages and eleven missed calls. He didn’t bother to listen to them and instead dialed Luke.

“Luke, I’m back in town. Thought I wou—” Tom started in as soon as Luke picked up.

“I WASN’T FUCKING SERIOUS WHEN I SAID TO GET MARRIED??! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

Tom pulled the phone away from his ear. “No, I haven’t. But I am married. To a wonderful girl. Her name is Molly. Molly Bishop. You should meet her, Luke.”

“YOU ARE FUCKING RIGHT I’LL MEET HER. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! SHE CAN HELP IDENTIFY YOUR BODY, THOMAS!” Luke continued to scream on the phone.

“Can you dial back the volume, Luke? I would like to preserve my hearing. Is there something wrong with marrying the woman I love?”

Luke cleared his throat. Tom understood Luke was doing his best to collect himself. “Apologies. There is nothing wrong with marrying the woman you love, Tom. Nothing at all. Except I don’t think you love this woman, since until a few weeks ago you were in love with—”

“Don’t say her name, it will ruin my marital bliss. I’m a hopeless romantic, Luke.”

“Hopeless, yes. Romantic, the jury is still out. And your fans don’t count, they are blinded by you. But I see the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You are not as smart as you think you are.”

“Did any of the articles mention her?” Tom inquired, spinning his wedding band on his finger.

“No.”

“Then I am exactly as smart as I think I am.”

There was a clatter from the kitchen.

“Tom!” Molly called out. “I need your help.”

“Got to go, Luke. My wife needs my help.” Tom emphasized the word “wife.”

“This isn’t over, Tom.”

“It never is. Bye.”

More clattering and another cry. “Tom!”

Tom rushed into the kitchen to find Molly perched on top of the kitchen counter, reaching high into a cabinet.

“Why is everything so high in here?”

Tom chuckled and reached around her, pressing his torso against her back. Molly jumped for a moment at the touch.

“I’m not used to sharing my space. I’m six two, I put things where I can reach them. What are you grabbing?”

“The roasting pan.”

Tom pulled it down and placed it on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.

“Thank you. Well, I am five six, so unless you want me climbing counters for the next year, we need to rearrange some things.”

“But you’re so cute climbing around like a little monkey.”

Molly frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so, then try again.”

Tom opened his mouth and closed it. “I’ll pull things down after dinner.”

“Thank you.” She rubbed his arm. “Now to try my hand at a roast dinner. Did you get stuff done?”

His phone buzzed again.

“I called my publicist. The pictures posted.” Tom pulled out his phone to shut it off.

“Oh good. So I take it, I had the desired effect.” Molly crunched on a carrot and offered one to Tom, who wrinkled his nose.

The two of you. My office 8 a.m. tomorrow. No excuses. I want to meet the blushing bride.

Tom frowned at the screen.

“It would appear so. I suggest you go to bed early because you are meeting Luke, my publicist tomorrow.”

Molly’s mouth fell open. “Should I be worried?”

Tom smiled at her. “No, I should be.”