#right time to list as many footballers as possible lol

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! Do you have a post for recs on hidden/secret relationship (dating, marriage, etc etc)?

Hi Nonny!

I actually recently replied to a similar ask that came back around the queue, and I sadly I don't have very many personal recs! I've been asked this enough that I think I'll go through both of my offline lists and make a new updated list because I need content, LOL! So here you are, and if anyone has fics to add, as always, please do!

SECRET RELATIONSHIPS (Sept 2024)

See also:

Lestrade / The Yard Finds Out

Lestrade / The Yard Finds Out Pt 2

BOOKMARKS

A Sofa with a View by nondeducible (G, 1,855 w., 1 Ch. || Domestic Fluff, Schmoop, Secret Relationship) – Lestrade loves football, John and Sherlock love each other.

The Internet Is Not Just For Porn by cyerus (G, 1,911 w., 1 Ch. || Different First Meeting, Humour, Fluff, Crack) – John is Sherlock's internet boyfriend - from CANADA. No one thinks he's real.

This is my friend, John Watson by aaronisgay (T, 3,691 w., 5 Ch. || Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Yard Finds Out) – Lestrade has known Sherlock for over three years, yet in that time barely learned anything about the man. Then one day, Sherlock walks onto the crime scene with a short army doctor in tow. As time goes on, Lestrade wonders why neither of them ever go on dates...could this mean something? Otherwise where Sherlock is married and the Yard doesn't even notice.

5687 (Approximately) by prettysailorsoldier (T, 6,771 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Alternate Canon, Christmas, Pining, Fluff, Soldier John) – When John's leave request for Christmas is denied, Sherlock is nothing short of devastated, not that he's letting it show. The holiday season now something he's just waiting to end, Sherlock doesn't think anything can possibly make it worse. That is, until he realizes no one in his life believes his army "boyfriend" is even real, but, luckily, everyone is in for a surprise. Part 13 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

MARKED FOR LATER

No place on earth they’d rather be. by gelos (bia_mpinto) (G, 460 w., 1 Ch, || Established Relationship, Fluff, PDA, Secret Relationship) – John’s thumb is caressing Sherlock’s skin and thinking how soft it is and how lucky he is right now. This is the first time they’ve held hands in public, only because they seem to be alone in the street and there’s nobody to see them.

I've Got Him by AnneCumberbatch (NR, 1,182 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Privacy, Semi-Secret Relationship, Domestic Life, Caring, Sick John, Flu, Annoyed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Sleepy John, Forehead Kisses, Papa Lestrade) – He returned to the living room and looked down at John. “You’re going to weigh so much more than I’m prepared for, aren’t you.” Sherlock grimaced slightly as he mapped out the best way to lift his partner. Part 9 of the Sometimes in the Evening series

A Study In Partners by LonelyThursday (T, 3,051 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP Divergence, Humour, Established Relationship, Attempted Murder, Secret Relationship, Tired Greg, Papa Lestrade) – Sherlock and John met years before ASiP, but nobody told the Yard that

Alibis by JohnlockRelapse (M, 6,645 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Implied Mystrade, Secrecy, The Yard, Fluff) – Sherlock is away for the weekend, John indisposed. And Greg would never admit to himself how desperate he was for Sherlock’s help. A series of phone calls to concerned parties, and a frustrated Detective Inspector later, alibis would prove to never be enough.

Illusory Correlation and Confirmation Bias by VanillaBroompolish (T, 10,464 w., 6 Ch. || Alternate Canon || Soldier John, Secret Relationship, Relationship Reveal) –  Looking back, there were a few things that should’ve tipped Greg off long before that night at the pub. A few things Sherlock left fairly obvious, that on reflection, made Greg question how he’d gotten his job in the first place.

The Moaning Detective by Imjohnlocked87 (E, 14,873 w., 5 Ch. || Oral / Anal, Threesome w/ Lestrade, Secret Relationship, Top John, Bottom Sherlock, Multiple Orgasms, PWP, Sex Toys / Dildos / Vibrators, Gang Bang / Group Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Dirty Talk, Accidental Voyeurism, Fantasizing) – Theoretically, Sherlock Holmes doesn't like sex, and John Watson is not gay. Theoretically, because when accidentally the Yards listen to what is happening at Baker Street, they found the practical truth is totally different...

Sanctuary by a_different_equation (E, 15,437 w., 7 Ch. || Medieval AU / Canterbury Tales Fusion || Blacksmith Sherlock, Guard John, Secret Relationship, Dom Sherlock, Sub John, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, BAMF Female Characters) – England, 1230: John Watson is an ex-soldier who works as the head of the guards in his hometown. Sherlock Holmes, the local blacksmith, is his secret.

The Sweetness Makes the Smoke and Stings Worthwhile by  221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (M, 70,032 w., 31 Ch. || Historical 1920′s Unilock AU || Summer Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Inexperienced Sherlock, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drinking, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Tension, Hand/Blow Jobs, Dancing, Secret Relationship, Skinny Dipping, Angst with a Happy Ending, Closet Sex, Hotel Sex, Emotions, Falling in Love, Mutual Pining, Letters/Epistolary, Heartache, Minor Violence, Separations, Reunion Sex, Love Confessions, Victor & Mary in this Fic) – After nearly being expelled from university, Sherlock is banished home to Musgrave Hall for the summer. A friend introduces him to John Watson, a handsome medical student visiting the area. Sherlock and John find themselves drawn to each other, falling into a summer romance that may be as painful as it is sweet. Although they follow different paths, their feelings for each other still haunt them, their love finally coming full circle years later. For those concerned about Mary and Victor, they appear only briefly and as very background characters. My version of Mary is not modeled on the BBC version. She is more of an original character, if anything.

combat fatigue by simplyclockwork (E, 75,714 w., 30 Ch. || Military AU / Different First Meeting || Captain John, BAMF John, Violence, Betrayal, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Secret Relationship, Whump, Angst, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending) – When Sherlock is deployed to Afghanistan with his brother and the 4/73 Bravo Sierra Bravo patrol unit, he is thrown into a terrifying new world. Developing an unexpected connection with Captain John Watson complicates things, and the two begin to wonder if they can keep each other safe when betrayal lurks in unexpected faces.

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

Of Ice and Men by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 176,906 w., 20 Ch. || Olympics AU || Paralympics, Prosthesis, Disability, Established Relationship, Threesome - Johnlockstrade, Angst with Happy Ending, Coming Out, Secret Relationship, Asexual Sherlock, Pilot John) – Greg wants Sherlock to win his first Olympic Gold medal. Sherlock wants John to win his first Olympic Gold medal. John wants Greg to come to bed wearing all four of his Olympic Gold medals, and you didn't really think this would be that terribly serious after reading that title, did you? Bundle up, it's a Winter Olympics OT3!

[sgiandubh]

OK, I got it : Telegraph shitshow, anyone?

Oh, what the hell. I had no patience and couldn't picture myself fidgeting in a dull supermarket and ending up by forgetting half of the things on my list.

So, here it is, all of it.

Proof of buying:

Yeah, "between Outlander's seasons nine and 10'. See how accurate the girl who wrote it is? How about a cobbled something to address the real issues at stake, of which there are three (more on this, in my next post)?

LOL? LOL.

Anyway, there goes. Passages in bold are marked by me:

If anyone knows a thing or two about sex scenes, it’s Sam Heughan. Over the past decade, the 43-year-old Scottish star of Outlander, the cult-hit historical drama, has filmed hours of notoriously raunchy footage in his role as Jamie Fraser, the dashing 18th-­century Highland rebel, with his wife, Claire – a time-traveller from the 20th century, played by ­Caitríona Balfe.

Yet two years ago, Heughan, as one of the executive producers (with Balfe), introduced an intimacy co-ordinator to choreograph such scenes, which had been criticised by many as excessively violent.

“The industry’s completely changed since Outlander started,” Heughan says, sitting in a Soho bar on a visit to London from his home outside Glasgow. “Not just our show but also shows like Game of Thrones were very graphic, with no room for the imagination, in a way that’s quite jarring now. As young, keen actors, we were just expected to get naked and go at it. Caitríona and I formed a bond and trusted each other, but there were times when we were pushed too far.” He was especially troubled by a scene involving full-frontal nudity in ­season one, when Jamie was tortured and raped by his rival, Black Jack Randall (Tobias Menzies). “That really didn’t sit well.”

Everything changed following the MeToo scandal, leading ­Heughan to employ Vanessa Coffey to choreograph the sex scenes. “So now everyone knows what the boundaries are, like in a football or rugby match. It’s been so helpful and freeing, and it was because I didn’t want younger actors to go through what we’d gone through. Now, the scenes are sexually charged, but not gratuitous.”

Despite his heartthrob status, Heughan – who’s 6ft 2in, with the strapping physique his role necess­i­tates – is modest and thoughtful company. He also had Coffey enlisted to co-ordinate his latest pro­ject, Channel 4’s erotic thriller The Couple Next Door, filmed during the short break between Outlander’s seasons nine and 10, in which he plays Danny, a policeman living in a Leeds suburb in an open marriage with Becka (Jessica De Gouw).

“We didn’t want to make a salacious or seedy show about swingers,” Heughan says. “It’s about the psychology behind it – what is it to be in an open relationship where two characters love each other so much that they can invite people into that relationship? I think it’s possibly the greatest form of romance to allow your partner this, if it’s the itch they need to scratch. My character struggles with it.”

The couple’s (initially) strait-laced neighbours are played by Alfred Enoch and Eleanor Tom­linson, who in 2019 finished five seasons as Demelza in Poldark. With Outlander about to start ­filming its final season, she and Heughan compared notes on moving on from a huge, long-running costume drama.

“It’s emotional. For me, the prospect’s hugely bittersweet. It feels like getting out of an institution. Outlander’s like a family, it literally defines who I am.” After all, Heughan has created an empire of Outlander spin-offs, including books, television travelogues and his spirits brand, The Sassenach – named after Jamie’s nickname for the English Claire – not to mention his charity, My Peak Challenge, which has raised nearly £5 million to fund a variety of causes, including ­hunger relief and blood-cancer research. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world,” he says.

Still, he felt now was the right time to wrap. “Outlander could have finished after the ninth season, but, personally, I felt we hadn’t quite got there. So now we have the problem of pushing the writers to do something that’s hopefully satisfying for the audience, but also exciting.” So Heughan doesn’t yet know how Outlander ends? “No idea, and it’s really tough because Diana [Gabaldon, the author on whose novels the series is based] has written so many books.”

The show has a vast international fanbase; VisitScotland has cited a 67 per cent rise in visits to the show’s locations, such as Culloden and Inverness. “I do feel like I’m an unofficial ambassador for Scotland, and sometimes I don’t think the show is given enough credit for what it’s done for Scottish tourism,” Heughan says. “I think the numbers are even bigger than they say, because reams of Americans are just making their own itineraries. Doune Castle’s numbers are up 800 per cent, it’s been completely renovated as a result.”

The show has also transformed the local film industry. “For 10 years, we’ve been employing ­people at over 200 Scottish locations, we’ve started an intern scheme, we’ve built a studio with five sound stages where there was nothing before. So it’s going to leave a legacy.”

The son of an artist single mother (his father walked out when he was a baby), Heughan spent his early childhood in the Borders, his teens in Edinburgh, before studying at Glasgow’s Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, where his mentor was third-year student James McAvoy.

Having worked in London and Los Angeles, Heughan fell back in love with Scotland when he was cast in Outlander. Initially against independence, filming the first ­season in the run-up to the 2016 ­referendum transformed him into a vocal advocate. “Scottish politics right now is a bit of a mess, which is a shame, but maybe they’ll find a new rallying cry. We’re a great wee country with amazing resources, most of which are controlled by the British. Similar small European countries have great identities.”

Initially, Heughan is hesitant to discuss the issue, aware taking either side will provoke a social-media backlash, but then he decides: “Why can’t actors have opi­n­ions? The problem is you have to come down on one side, there is no room for deb­ate. Everything has be­come so aggressive and then social-media algo­rithms mean you only get to see one side of the argument.”

He had his fingers burnt when last month he signed an open letter from Artists for Palestine UK, alongside the likes of Tilda Swinton and Steve Coogan, which accused the Government of “aiding and abetting” Israeli war crimes, but failed to condemn Hamas’s terrorism. The following day, Heughan rescinded, saying he hadn’t “fully understood” what he was signing.

“I was maybe naively calling for peace, which is what we all want, but, unfortunately, that situation is so complex, I can’t understand it all,” he says now. “As an actor, you have a platform, but if you put your thoughts out there, you upset ­people, but you’re also damned if you don’t say anything.”

Heughan’s taking time to navigate a potential post-Outlander career path. “I’m a workaholic, but I have to be discerning. Whatever I do next, I have to feel really passionate about.” Possible plans include directing and exploring a different side to Scotland than misty heather and bagpipes. “I think that underbelly you see in [Ian Rankin’s] Rebus and Irvine Welsh is very interesting, there are still pockets that are very hard and gritty.”

Back in 2005, he auditioned for James Bond in Casino Royale – the role that eventually went to Daniel Craig. Now, there’s a new vacancy. “I’ll throw my hat in the ring,” he says, grinning. “I’d be a brilliant Bond, I’m good at action and I’d bring a lot of ­emotional intelligence.”

There might even be space for a personal life. Heughan’s mystified by “facts” he reads about his private life online. “There’s so much ­nonsense that’s completely false – apparently, I have a daughter. News to me!” he says, flushing. The truth, he says, is that Outlander leaves no time for relationships.

“It’s insane hours and takes over everything. Caitríona’s carved out a beautiful family for herself that she protects very well, but I’ve seen how hard it is for her to do that. I want a cat, but I’m too scared even for that, how would I look after it? One day, maybe,” Heughan says, dreamily.

The Couple Next Door begins on Channel 4 on Monday 27 November at 9pm; stream all episodes from this date

[silken-threads-bah]

I triwd asking someone else to do this, but they dont do introjects and im aware that you do so im asking you guys.

May we please have any of the following as a headmate pack:

Hitoshi Shinso

Katsuki Bakugo

Eijiro Kirishima

Kaminari Denki

Shoto Todoroki

(or even any of the girls)

We already have Izuku and Aizawa, but they say they would like to reunite with anyone from the above list. You get to choose because they said no matter who it is, it's okay.

Many thanks and take care,

(Asher)

I couldn't decide so I went with two, I hope that's alright! - Eden

Name: kaminari denki, spark, bolt, static

Age: 17

Pronouns: he/they

Gender(s): demiboy

Orientation: pansexual

Source(s): my hero academia

Role: mood-booster, energetic headmate

Personality: he's pretty upbeat, peppy, and loud. Theyre also incredibly optimistic, to the point that it seems like he's entirely ignoring any possible bad outcome of his actions. They never think before they speak or act, just jumping right into the deep end and then being absolutely shocked that his actions have consequences. Due to all of this, and his inability to sit still, he's seen as rather stupid and fidgety and sometimes childish. However, he's actually rather smart. He's just an idiot at the same time.

Interests: physics and engineering (he's a huge science nerd and loves finding out how things work behind the scenes), loves researching about the mechanics of rollercoasters and loves dyeing his own and other people's hair.

Extra info: they frequently type in all caps and uses gen z/gen alpha language (says sigma, fire, skibidi toilet, rizz, etc.) The brain rot is terminal I fear /j. Basically the annoying little brother that lives to poke everyone around them.

Faceclaims:

Name: eijiro kirishima, spike, onyx

Age: 16

Pronouns: he/him

Gender(s): trans man

Orientation: bisexual with a huge preference for men

Source(s): my hero academia

Role: confidence booster, protector

Personality: he's got a rock solid sense of right and wrong and isn't scared to stand up for himself and others. He can be a bit dense at times, completely missing the point of jokes or when someone's flirting with him, which has led some people to think he's stupid. Academically, he's not exactly the brightest, but he always puts the maximum amount of effort into everything he does, even studying.

Interests: sports (especially football, but his favorite sport to play is table tennis because he's so good at it), he really likes the outdoors and taking hikes/long walks, he's a bit of a gym bro and gets really into eating healthy and working out.

Extra info: loves liberty spikes (the hairdo) and would absolutely try to get the body's hair to look like that at least once if possible. He also enjoys painting his nails and when texting, he uses keyboard smashes to convey laughter instead of just typing "lol" like a normal person. Also! I could see him being a spider-man kin <3

Faceclaims:

[footbaliimagines]

confession (a whoever-you-want-it-to-be imagine)

this is a sequel to my other imagine, ‘unrequited’ which you can read here.

----

He used to be a confident guy.

The funny one, the loud one, the life of the party with a permanent smile on his face who was always guaranteed to produce a laugh, an assured smile and a witty comment.

(I mean, just ask any of his club’s supporters or watch one of the many ‘top 10 funny moments’ compilations he had featured in, scattered around Youtube with thousands of views and hundreds more comments.)

Not recently, though.

Recently, smiling had become somewhat of a chore.

He had grown accustomed to feeling those familiar face muscles stirring every time he was in her presence, used to laughing and feeling like a giddy thirteen-year-old with his first crush every time she looked at him or he heard her voice, sweet, gentle, like a song he wanted to play on repeat. But now, the realisation of what could be (or perhaps, what couldn’t) was starker than ever and smiling was a forced, enduring, difficult task that was only to be attempted when a camera was thrust in his face or a fan approached him in the streets.

It was foolish and naïve of him to have faith that this time, things would be different. Surely it was far too optimistic for him to believe that meeting a girl that was so perfect for him would happen easily, to believe that things would miraculously change, like a switch had been flicked, and that his romantic life would suddenly be taken over by a director of a shitty rom com.

He probably should have known better, or at least expected something like this was bound to happen. Her fiancé (the word still left a sour taste in his mouth) was 28, after all, 4 years older than her, and had often expressed his desire to settle down and start a family as soon as possible. He was a soppy, sentimental guy, and he couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't want to be her husband.

(In another universe, he would have put money on the inevitability of their engagement had he not been so hideously over invested.)

And, to make matters worse, he can’t for the life of him think of how he was going to tell her. Start things as normal, exchange meaningless, empty small talk, maybe offer a congratulatory hug on the engagement and then shoot her down and ask her to leave her fiancé?

Probably not his finest idea. Back to the drawing board it was.

Maybe he should just tell her flat out. No frills and no embellishments, just a straight-out confession of his feelings and then taking things as they come from then on.

(But he’s nervous, more nervous than he thinks he’s ever been, and he thinks it might be a better idea to ease into things more subtly, dip his toe and then reassess.)

(Then again, one glance at her and his brain would probably turn to mush.)

It's unfair and he wants to curse the world and blame the universe for what they've done and what they’ve put him through. How fucking cruel, how bloody awful, to introduce somebody like her and to tease him with her presence so often only to tug her away at the last moment, right out of his grasp, eliminating any possibility of a chance with her in the future. Dangling her in front of him in a cruel, torturous taunt. 

(A ‘nice-try-you’re-almost-there-but-not-quite’, a ‘you-thought-you’d-be-able-get-into-a-healthy-happy-relationship-that-easily-haha-jokes-on-you’.)

It’s humid outside, and the sunset gives the whole street a warm, pinkish hue. The streets are busy and people are flurrying back and forward and his new shoes are pinching his toes.

He’s at his local florist’s. It’s the week before Valentine’s Day, so there are roses plastered up and down and across the walls and big pink signs displaying ‘3-for-2 on all Valentine’s flowers! Tell the person you love how you feel with one of our handmade, personalised bunches!’ 

He’s about to throw up.

“Engaged doesn’t mean married. Don’t give up.” The florist, a middle-aged woman with paint-stained dungarees and a kind smile, tells him.

He knows she’s not married yet, knows that just because she said yes to a dumb stupid romantic question it doesn’t mean that all roads will be closed off forever (I mean, he spent the better part of 2015 binge watching all 9 seasons of The Office, and is hoping something akin to Jim and Pam will happen for him), but it’s as close to terrible as things could probably be.

Nevertheless, he smiles gratefully at her and opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. It’s like his throat is lined with sandpaper. “Uh, thanks. I, um-“ He stutters, mind whirling and nerves getting the better of him, so much so that even choking out a broken sentence is too difficult of a task.

“Save your words for her, love, not me.” She says humorously, picking up the bouquet she had been assembling and handing it over to him. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

He’s gripping the flowers in his right hand so forcefully that his knuckles are turning white and the stems are at risk of snapping if his grasp tightens any further. In front of her, he’s absolutely undone. 

And her ring, a shiny band adorned with a single, big diamond in the centre is the first (and only) thing he can focus on when she pulls the door open and grins, pulling him in for a hug.

(She smells like roses and their fingers brush when she takes the flowers from him.)

“Hey! Is everything okay?”

He nods quickly, too quickly. “I brought you these.”

“You didn’t have to bring us anything, you know.” She teases, smiling. “Come through to the kitchen, I’ll go and put these in a vase. Should I stick the kettle on?”

He can only smile in response, fearing that if he opened his mouth the words would just refuse to come. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Uh, water will be fine.”

She sticks the kettle on and pours him a glass, hoisting herself up onto a bar stool, swinging her legs and grinning at him. He mirrors her actions. She’s beautiful, and he’s always known it, but now he can’t look at her without having a weird feeling, a mixture of nerves and tension and nausea, swirling in his gut. He’s always been the kind of person to focus on small things and take pleasure in intricate details, but his enchantment with the tiniest things about her elevates things to another, astronomical level. 

“So, what’s up?” She asks.

“Uh, I was wondering if we could have a chat?” He scratches his jaw.

She quirks her eyebrows, but the smile doesn’t leave her face. “Sure. I’m all ears.”

“So, um, engaged?”

As if by instinct, she glances proudly at her ring and a serene smile fixes on her face.

(It makes the thought of causing everything to crash down in front of her even more difficult to stomach.)

“Crazy, right? Can’t believe it myself.”

He swallows the lump in his throat. “Always wanted to get married?”

To his immense surprise, she snorts and shakes her head. “If you’d told 18-year-old me that I’d be engaged at 23 I would have slapped you. Far more interested in jagerbombs and ways to get guys in clubs to buy drinks for me.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, I know he wants to get married soon because he’s quite a few years older than me, and all that. Maybe kids. Well, I think they’re definitely part of his future. But I don’t know.”

She shudders, and only then does it become glaringly obvious that she’s just not right for him. Four years’ age difference is a long time. It meant different goals, different aims, different time frames. All in all, a bad fit.

(He would be a much better match for her.)

“Do you not want that?”

“I don’t know.”.

“Any reason why?”

“No reason. It’s just…weird. The thought of marriage is weird.”

“Weird how?”

“God, are you interrogating me?” She teases, crossing her arms across the chest.

His eyes are darting around the room like wildfire and his face is burning up, unable to settle on her gaze. She feels her face turn hot. “No,” he splutters, humiliated.

She lets out a small, nervous laugh and is just about to reply when the kettle pings. “What did you want to talk about? Wait, no- please don’t ask for the proposal story. I’ve already told my mum twice and all of my female relatives and my girlfriends about sixty-five times. If I have to do it again I think I might commit.”

He forces himself to chuckle, gritting his teeth as he fights back from telling her that there is nothing he wants to do less than listen to the story of how that ring ended up on her finger. “Hey, um, can I speak to you about something? Properly, I mean?”

“Oh, now I know what this is about.” There’s a glint in her eyes and he cocks his head at her. “Is this about when you want to rematch me at 8 ball pool?”

He lets out a breath and chokes out a stifled laugh. “Because I’m totally up for that. We could do it now, actually, if you wanted to! I just bought a new cue, and since discovering back spin my game has improved drastically, and- ”

“I just…I…”

“Hm?”

It’s like his voice is caught in his throat. “I- I…I’m in love with you.”

Her mouth falls open just a fraction, and he can feel his eyes sting with tears.

It’s been silent for too long, she hasn’t even made eye contact with him yet and he can envision it all in his brain. Rattled off responses of how much she values his friendship, excuses as to why nothing can happen, rehearsed and bullshit cliché sentences about how he has no idea how much of a great friend he is and why she truly hopes they can move past this together.

And he wants to be able to prepare himself, to think of alternatives and solutions in his brain and ways that maybe this won’t end horrifically, but he’s hit a dead end and all he can focus on is everything crashing down in front of him.

(He can’t help but think that there isn’t any way, other than taking her in his arms and kissing her and making everything feel better, that this could end well.)

“What?” Her voice has been reduced to a whisper.

“I just….I can’t go another day without telling you. And I know this is terrible timing and I probably seem like a huge prick but finding out that you were engaged was fucking….fucking- fuck, I can’t even find the word for it. But it was shit, and it made me realise that I need you to know, more than anything. Regardless of the outcome. I just have to tell you.” His voice cracks and his eyes well with tears and she begins to fiddle with that stupid goddamn ring in front of her waist.

She falls silent again, chewing on her bottom lip as he watches her eyes well with tears. A single droplet gathers in the corner of her eye and threatens to fall down her cheek, and it takes all the self-restraint in the world to stop himself from reaching forward to wipe it away.

“Please say something.” He speaks hoarsely.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Something. Anything.”

“Look-“ She begins to speak and he can tell from her tone of voice it’s not going to end well. “You’re a great friend. To me, and to him. And I appreciate you more than you know, I swear, and-“

“I think I should go.”

“You don’t have to leave.” She reaches out to grab his arm and he leaps away from her touch as if being burnt. “Please, stay.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” He says, exasperated. “I just want an answer. Please.”

Her face breaks out into a soft, sad smile, and her eyes are welling with tears. She looks up at him and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Thank you for telling me.”

Her voice and demeanour changes. He drops his voice. “But?”

“I can’t.” She croaks.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t do this.”

He presses, “Do what? Be with me? Talk to me?���

“I can’t marry him.”

He feels his stomach drop.

“I’m really sorry. I think you should leave.”

 --

A.N.: i’m back!!!! finally written and uploaded the (much requested) second part of unrequited!! i really thought i’d be able to wrap everything up in one more piece but i couldn’t fit the above part and the ending (most of which is already written) into one piece and make it seem realistic at the same time if that makes sense. plus I really really really want this series (probably not the right word??) to have a happy ending (it will do, i promise!!!) and I wasn’t sure how to squeeze his feelings about the proposal & him confessing & her breaking it off with her fiancé & a happy ending all in one.

part 3 (jesus christ i’m dragging this on) should be up in the next few days because the bulk of it is already written!!!

(can you see how inspired I was by jim and pam and the office lol….took heavy inspo from pam’s response to jim and what michael said to jim too haha)

please give feedback as always and say hello or send in requests here & have a nosy at my masterlist if you can!!!

millie xxx

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 4

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You know, I don’t remember you being able to run this fast back at the academy.”

WC: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), fluff, defensive Spencer, more angst but not from unnecessary trauma, more emotional-support Reader, reunion arc, song fic, emotional/physical intimacy (to the max)

Don't think we fit in at this party Everyone's got so much to say, oh yeah, yeah When we walked in, I said I'm sorry, mmm But now I think that we should stay

Not a lot of things shake Spencer. It’s a very short list; his knowledge is expansive, he reads studies and scientific journals for fun, knows the most random statistics and facts just for the slightest possibility of it being useful. There're the rare occasions where unsubs catch him off guard, but at this point he's hardly phased. Nothing surprises him. 

Although, this⎼this has made it to the top of that list.

“You’re sorry?” Spencer repeats, not sure if he heard correctly. His body cements in place and he holds his breath, waiting for the punchline. Waiting for one of them to jump him, for someone to say, ‘LOL jk’ like Garcia does when he doesn’t get the joke.

Because he doesn’t like this joke. It wasn’t funny back then, it’s not funny now.

But they don’t. Seconds pass and his tormentors, like him, are just as frozen, just as breathless, just waiting for his reaction.

They’re serious?

Spencer’s lips curl as his nose wrinkles. “You’re sorry? You think saying sorry is going to make up for everything?”

“God no, of course not. But over time, we’ve come to realize,” Alexa’s voice trembles, like she’s holding back tears. She exchanges glances with Harper and the football team before taking a tentative step towards him. “You deserve a real apology at least.”

Spencer recoils, the words jostling his brain. Alexa, Harper, and the few members of the football team all nod in agreement, as if they discussed this beforehand.

She adds, “We don’t expect you to forgive us now or ever. But we hope to try and⎼”

She’s preaching, something about regret and forgiveness and bridging gaps, but Spencer barely registers her voice⎼the words drowned out by the thrumming Christmas music. It becomes more garbled and muffled. Like he’s under water and he’s sinking. 

He struggles to catch his breath. His brain reels until the only thing he can focus on is…

Anger. Familiar and hot and so loud that it rings in his ears. Against the storm, it’s a buoy in a rumbling ocean, the clearest, safest, most tangible thing he finds as he’s caught in the undertow. 

Just like that he breaks the water’s surface. 

And he latches on.

“You’re not sorry,” Spencer lets out a dry chuckle. Alexa and Harper open their mouths to protest but he continues, “You want to know how I know this? Because I have several degrees, one of them being in psychology.” 

They shake their heads. “We are⎼”

He cuts them off, his tone rising above Santa Tell Me as it bellows overhead. “No, you're not. You don’t feel remorse. You don’t blame yourselves. You feel guilty, and your attempt at apologizing for what you did tells me that you can’t live with that guilt. That’s why you’re apologizing. You want a clear conscience. You want me to⎼to just act like what you did was okay, to act like nothing happened. But it did and I⎼” Spencer’s vision blurs and his eyes burn. He squeezes them shut. 

He will not cry. He will not cry. He’s wasted enough tears on these people.

Spencer meets their gaze, and he knows they have to strain their ears when he rasps, “⎼It wasn't okay.”

“Reid,” Harper’s calls, her voice wobbling. For a second he sees it; Alexa, Harper, the football team backing them up as gold and white spotlights roam over them. Their eyes glisten with worry, and he sees the pain, the honesty, all the signs of truth and genuine regret with a profiler’s accuracy.

A small part of him hopes maybe they are. Maybe they do regret it the pain they caused him. 

The concept is jarring. And Spencer doesn’t have the capacity to process it. Not now.

So he turns away, clearing his throat. “Excuse me.” Without thinking, he slips his hand out of yours, startling you, and pushes through the throng of people.

“Um,” You hesitate as your gaze switches between watching Spencer and his (ex?) bullies. Then his back disappears in the crowd and you start after him, “I’ll be right back?”

Not the smoothest exit, but it’ll have to do.

You quickly weave between party-goers, rushing towards the exit. By the time you burst through the doors, Spencer is gone.

You’ve lost him.

⎼

Okay, you didn’t lose him.

You’re not even surprised, catching your breath at the gaping doors. Light spills from the hall, casting a long shadow as you scan the room, your footfalls muffled by the old carpet. It takes a little browsing until you realize you’re in the fiction area.

You find Spencer in the deepest corner of the library. He sits on the floor, slumped against the shelves of the classic literature section. You bite back a smile; his legs are too long for the small aisle between the bookcases, so his knees are bent and his hands rest in his lap. 

He barely notices as you carefully pad over to him. “Hey.”  

“Hey,” Spencer mumbles, staring vacantly at the rows of worn books. They’re dusty, mostly 3rd and 4th editions. He’s fairly certain they’re the same ones he read when he attended⎼damn, the American education system is underfunded⎼and despite the comforting presence of you and his old friends, he can’t bring himself to look at you, ashamed of his outburst. 

“You know, I don’t remember you being able to run this fast back at the academy,” You let out an exaggerated wheeze, an attempt to lighten his mood.  

It sort of works. Spencer huffs out a laugh, but he sobers quickly. “Sorry for running out on you like that.” 

You squeeze yourself into the small gap, mirroring him against the adjacent bookcase, legs tangling with his. “I told you, you have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Maybe but it’s still not fair to you,” Spencer swallows the lump in his throat. He hears you snort and he looks up, seeing the wry smile on your lips. “What?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you still manage to think of me, even though this whole thing is for you. Reid, if I wasn’t so concerned, I’d feel touched.” 

He flushes, and while it's too dark to see each other clearly, Spencer still ducks his head. 

You smile shyly as you nudge the toe of your shoe against his. A question.

A second later, he nudges you back. An answer.

Satisfied, you don't say another word as you both find comfort in the silence and in the musty scent of used books. If you strain your ears, you can hear Snowman faintly echo down the empty hallways. It's hauntingly peaceful. 

Then Spencer breaks the silence.

It starts with a sniff and you shrug it off. Probably dust, allergies. But there's another and another until all you hear is his breathes, unsteady and wet and⎼fuck.

Spencer is crying.

He bites his lip as he clasps his hands tightly in his lap, trying to pull himself together. Scrape together whatever semblance of pride he’s got left. He's been humiliated enough today; he doesn't need to fall apart in front of you too.

Tears well in his eyes. A whimper escapes him, and because you’re alone⎼no music, no loud guests to cover him⎼you feel the brunt of it, rattling your bones.

Your willpower snaps.

Touch is a powerful thing. There are people who simply don’t care for it but others, they’re uncomfortable with the intimacy behind the sensation. Many underestimate the tremendous courage it takes to let others into your personal bubble. And for you⎼ 

Touch is... personal. It’s giving a spare key to your place. It’s confessing your sins before you face Death. 

It’s sharing your sweaters with Spencer because he thinks they look cool. It’s cooking and cleaning the failed trials afterwards, standing at the sink and flinging soap bubbles at each other. It’s sharing the blanket when heading home after an exhausting case.

Touch is comfort. So that’s what you give him.

Spencer's breath hitches as you crawl over to him. On your knees, you settle between his legs and he freezes, terrified if he moves you will leave. Or disappear. He’s not sure. But you’re so close that his breath puffs against your chin. He tries to hold them in. It makes him hiccup. 

To his surprise, you pull out a handkerchief. 

Though his body trembles, he doesn’t protest as your hands gently push back his hair. He follows the movement, his head falling back against the bookcase as he watches your dark silhouette hover over him, softly outlined by the streetlight seeping through the windows. He lets you take the tears and the hurt, dabbing them away from his tear-stained cheeks. 

Every teardrop is a knife. Every droplet you don’t catch, it's a cut. 

Spencer wonders if he's dreaming. Maybe he tripped and knocked himself out? Or did the football team clock him so hard it put him in a coma? Or maybe he fainted? 

Because if the universe is rewarding him after all the bullshit he's been through, all the work he’s done, he hopes this is it. This is the closest you've ever been⎼you’ve hugged and comforted each other before but this is so much more intimate than any other moment you’ve shared. And given the chance, he knows he would spend the rest of his days like this. His face in your hands as you wipe away the misery and despair.

The thought sends him into a new wave of tears. If you mind, you say nothing.

Spencer shuts his eyes, leaning into every touch, every caress. It’s too dark to see, so he tries to memorize what his eyes can’t. Your hands are cool against his skin and your soap smells good (or maybe that’s just you?). And as much as he appreciates your mindfulness to his germaphobic tendencies, he wishes you'd come closer. To keep touching him. 

But it’s odd, Spencer thinks as you smooth back his hair. You offer no words of encouragement. No words of wisdom. No motivational speech that’ll prompt him to bounce right back. You simply wait, brushing away his tears as he hiccups and sobs.

It just… doesn’t seem real. Attending the reunion like Morgan suggested (and the fact you're kneeling between his legs, but he's trying not to think too hard about it). The idea sounded so simple and terrifying at the same time. He planned to show off⎼peacock, if you will⎼and you even helped him practice. Spencer was prepared to bring them to their knees (okay, not really but he was willing to try). 

And now years later, they decide to apologize?

The audacity.

They didn’t spend years pushing past the pain. They didn’t hope the memories would erode with time. They didn’t have to pretend everything was okay, like nothing happened, like they didn’t do anything wrong. 

So excuse him if a little ‘sorry’ doesn’t make him feel any better.

Is it⎼is he weak for feeling like this? It’s been too long. They shouldn’t have this sort of effect on him.

“I don’t think that matters.” 

Spencer frowns at you. After his tears dry up and his hiccups subside, you settle beside him, your handkerchief, moist with his tears, fisted in his hands now. He tries to ignore the way your shoulders and thighs brush against each other. 

“I-I’m not invalidating you. But I don't think this is about being weak or sensitive. What they did to you… cut you deep and you never got closure and-and you’re still hurting. Even if it’s just a little,” You speak low, gazing at the bookshelves across from you as you stumble for the right words. He sees you angle your head towards him. Feels you shift next to him. “It's been years, but time and space doesn’t make your feelings any less valid. So no, I don't think this is about strength. It was a prank gone wrong, and you were just a kid.”

That’s putting it lightly. Spencer bites his tongue. 

You don’t need to know that.

He folds the handkerchief in his hands as he murmurs, “Easy for you to say.”

He feels you stiffen, and he considers the possibility that he said something wrong. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“It’s not bad or anything,” Spencer sits up, hands waving about as he rushes to assure you. “You’re always so composed. Even during the worst cases, you hardly lose it. In terms of stoicism, you’re basically on par with Hotch.”

Spencer cringes, the words out of his mouth before he realizes. 

For a second you don’t respond, but his heart stalls as he practically feels you pull away from him, even though physically you’re still there. You turn away, pulling your knees to your chest.

“Is that what you think of me?” Fuck, you sound betrayed by his assumptions. 

“I⎼well… ” Spencer wrings his hands together. He’s at a loss for words, afraid he’ll say something wrong again. He wishes he had night vision; your body language is closed off, protective, and he knows your expression is pained. 

Oh god, he did that. It hurts knowing he did that.

“Believe it or not, Reid, I’m not exactly the poster child for calm and collected," You unfold as you look back at him, voice laced with vulnerability. "I've got cracks of my own."

"... Eh,” Like you, Spencer attempts to brighten your mood, elbowing you, “I need to conduct an observational study to back that up."

He knows you're smiling as you huff, “Is that your roundabout way of saying I can go to you? When I need a shoulder to cry on?”

I'd literally drop everything if you came to me for no reason but okay.

Spencer shrugs, grinning as you push him so hard he topples over. And as you laugh and shove at each other like teenagers, Spencer concurs. You both have your cracks. You're cracked and chipped and if you take the time to look there's damage in places hidden away from the naked eye.

You're cracked but it makes you all the more perfect. 

AN: 4/5 whoops

yall don’t kink shame me but i’m a slut for emotional and physical intimacy 😳 and not to be toxic but Reids hot when he mad 😳 

what kind of student were/are you in school, middle/high/college? 

i think i got the hang of the angst now im quite proud of my writing here :) i bummed myself out writing these scenes you dont even know

small background with Mysterious!Reader and Reid yes they were in the FBI academy together :)

fun fact: when i was writing part 3 and 4 i had to go back and watch the elephants memory episode after realizing i forgot the names of Reids bullies. i was already halfway done before i noticed i wrote Harry instead of Harper gdm

when i started FtH, i cackled at the idea of Reid confronting his bullies. just seemed funny to me to have him be pissed and ready to shank his enemies with words and just lose that chance bc his bullies are human too and realize their mistake so they want to make up for it lmaooo now here he is angry and he can’t really express it the way he thought he would

(also if you noticed the lines ref to @idmakeitbehave’s fic cracked perfection, just a little thingy bc they inspire me and i love their everything <333) 

[snarktheater]

Hey, d'you have any French book recs? I'm trying to work on my French, and rn I have downloaded one of my favourite book series' French translations, but I figured maybe books already written in French might work better? Also have you read the Ranger's Apprentice series? 1/2

RA's def flawed - the books' narration does like to point bright arrows at the protagonists' intelligence, and the last few books def have the tone of 'old white man trying to write feminism', although at least he's trying? - and it's aimed more to the younger side of YA, but it is still a very fun series, and I can ignore the flaws fairly easily, at least partly due to nostalgia? This rather long lol but I'm wordy.

I'll start with the second question: no, although every time the series is brought up I have to check the French title and go "oh, right, I've seen these books in stores". But I've never purchased or read them. It sounds like something I probably would have enjoyed as a teen but I just missed the mark, and these days I'm trying to drown myself in queer books, so that probably isn't happening.

As for your first question, geez, I haven’t read a French book in years, so this is gonna skew middle grade/YA, though that may not be so bad if the point is to learn the language. I will also say that as a result, these may read a little outdated.

I'll put it under a cut, even if Tumblr has become really bad with correctly displaying read mores. Sorry, mobile crowd.

It's also likely that old readers of the blog will have seen me talk about most of these. I don't feel like going through old posts.

One last thing: while I was curating this list I took the time to make a Goodreads shelf to keep track of those.

The Ewilan books by Pierre Bottero

(It's a testament to how long ago I read these books that these are not the covers of the edition I own, and I can't even find those on Google. I'm settling for a more recent cover anyway since it'll make it easier to find them, presumably)

There are at least three trilogies (that I know of) set in the same world.

The first trilogy is essentially an isekai (so, French girl lands in parallel fantasy world by accident) with elements of chosen one trope, though I find the execution makes it worth the while anyway.

The second trilogy is a direct sequel, so same protagonist but new threat, and the world gets expanded.

The third one is centered around a supporting characters from the previous books, and the first couple of books in it are more her backstory than a continuation, though the third one concludes both that trilogy and advances the story of the other books as well.

Notably these books have a really fun magic system where the characters "draw" things into existence. It's just stuck with me for some reason.

A bunch of stuff by Erik L'Homme

I have read a lot of this man's books, starting with Le Livre des Etoiles.

They also skew towards the young end of YA, arguably middle grade, I never bothered to figure out where to draw the line. They're coincidentally also using the premise of a parallel world to our own (and yes, connected to France again, the French are just as susceptible of writing about their homeland), but interestingly are set from the point of view of characters native to the parallel world.

It also has a very unique magic system, this one based on a mix of a runic alphabet and sort-of poetry. I'll also say specifically for these books that the characters stuck with me way more than others on this list, which is worth mentioning.

This trilogy is my favorite by Erik L'Homme, but I'll also mention Les Maîtres des brisants, which is a fantasy space opera with a pirate steampunk(?) vibe. I think it's steampunk. I could be mistaken. But it's in that vein. It's also middle grade, in my opinion not as good, but it could just be that it came out when I was older.

Another one is Phaenomen, which was a deliberate attempt at skewing older (though still YA). This one is set in our (then-)modern world and centers a group of teens who happen to have supernatural powers. I guess the best way to describe it is a superhero thriller? If you take "superhero" in the sense of "people with individualized powers", since they don't really do a lot of heroing.

...I really need to brush up on genre terminology, don't I.

The Ji series by Pierre Grimbert

This one is actually adult fantasy, though it definitely falls under "probably outdated". It is very straight, for starters, and I'd have to give it another read to give a more critical reading of how it handles race (it attempts to do it, and is well meaning, but I'm not sure it survives the test of time & scrutiny, basically).

If I haven't lost you already, the premise is this: a few generations ago, a weird man named Nol gathered emissaries from each nation of the world and took them to a trip to the titular Ji island. Nobody knows what went down here, but now in the present day, someone is trying to kill off all descendants from those emissaries, who are as a result forced to team up and figure out what's going on.

I'm not going to spoil past that, though I will say it has (surprise) a really unique magic system! I guess you can start to piece together what my younger self was interested in. Which, admittedly, I still am.

Once again, this one also has a strong cast of characters, helped by rich world building and the premise forcing the characters to come from many different cultures (though, again, I can't vouch for the handling of race because it's been too long).

The first series is complete by itself, though it has two sequel series as well, each focusing on the next generation in these families. Because yes, of course they all pair up and have kids. Like I said: very straight.

A whole lot of books by Jean-Louis Fetjaine

OFetjaine is a historian, and I guess he's really interested in Arthurian mythos especially, because he loves it so much he's written two separate high fantasy retellings of them! I'm not criticizing, mind you, we all need a hobby.

The former, the Elves trilogy (pictures above) is very traditional high fantasy. Elves, dwarves, orcs, a world which is definitely fictionalized with a pan-Celtic vibe to it. The holy grail and excalibur are around, but they're relics possessed by the elves and dwarves with very different powers than usual. Et cetera.

Fetjaine also really loves his elves (as the titles might imply), and while they're not exactly Tolkien elves, there's a similar vibe to them. If you like Tolkien and his elf boner, you'll probably like this too. And conversely, if that turns you off, these books probably also won't work for you.

This series also has a prequel trilogy, centered around the backstory of one of the main characters. I...honestly don't remember too much about it, but I liked it, so, there you go, I guess.

I said Fetjaine did it twice. The other series is the Merlin duology, which, as the title implies, is a retelling of Merlin's story. Note that Merlin is also in the other trilogy, but it's a different Merlin; like I said, completely different continuities and stories.

This one is historical fantasy, so it's set in actual Great Britain, and Fetjaine attempts to connect Arthur to a "real" historical figure...but, you know, Merlin is also half-elf and elves totally exist in Brocéliande, so, you know. History.

Okay, that's probably enough fantasy, let me give some classics too.

L'Arbre des possibles et autres histoires - Bernard Werber

Bernard Werber is a pretty seminal author of French sci-fi and I should probably be embarrassed that the only book of his that I read was for school, but, it is a really good one, so I'll include it anyway.

It's a novella collection, and when I say "sci-fi" I want to make it clear that it's very old school science fiction. It's more Frankenstein or Black Mirror than Star Trek, what we in French call the anticipation genre of science fiction: you take one piece of technology or cultural norm and project it into the future.

It has a pretty wide range of topics and tones, so it's bound to have some better than others. My personal faves were Du pain et des jeux, where football (non-American) has evolved into basically a wargame, and Tel maître, tel lion, where any animal is considered acceptable as a pet, no matter how absurd it is to keep as a pet. They're both on a comedic end, but there's more heartfelt stuff too.

L'Ecume des Jours - Boris Vian

(no cover because I can't find the one I have, and the ones I find are ugly)

This book is surrealist. Like, literally a part of the surrealist movement. It features things such as a lilypad growing inside a woman's lungs (and, as you well know, lilypads double in size every day, wink wink), the protagonist's apartment becoming larger and smaller to go with his mood and current financial situation, and more that I can't even recall at the moment because remembering this book is like trying to remember having an aneurysm.

It is also really, really fun and touching. Oh, and it has a pretty solid movie adaptation, starring Audrey Tautou, who I think an international audience would probably recognize from Amelie or the Da Vinci Code movie.

I don't really know what else to say. It's a really cool read!

Le Roi se meurt - Eugène Ionesco

Ionesco is somewhat famous worldwide so I wasn't even sure to include him here. He's a playwright who wrote in the "Theater of the Absurd" movement, and this play is part of that.

The premise of this play is that the King (of an unnamed land) is dying, and the land is dying with him. I don't really know what else to say. It's theater of the absurd. It kind of has to be experienced (the published version works fine, btw, no need to track down an actual performance, in my humble opinion).

The Plague - Albert Camus

You've probably heard of this one, and if you haven't, let me tell you about a guy called Carlos Maza

I'm honestly more including this book out of a sense of duty. The other three are books I genuinely liked and happen to be classics. This book was an awful read. But, um. It's kind of relevant now in a way it wasn't (or didn't feel, anyway) back in 2008 or 2009, when I read it. And I don't just mean because of our own plague, since Camus's plague is pretty famously an allegory for fascism, which my teenage self sneered at, and my adult self really regrets every feeling that way.

Okay, finally, some more lighthearted stuff, we gotta talk about the Belgian and French art of bande dessinée. How is it different from comic books or manga? Functionally, it isn't. It really comes down more to what gets published in the Belgian-French industry compared to the American comics industry, which is dominated by superheroes, or the Japanese manga industry, which, while I'm less familiar with it, I know has some big genre trends as well that are completely separate.

The Lanfeust series - Arleston and Tarquin

This is a YA mega-series, and I can't recommend all of it because I've lost track of the franchise's growth. Also note that I say "YA", but in this case it means something very different from an American understanding of YA. These books are pretty full of sex.

No, when I say YA I mean it has that level of maturity, for better or worse. The original series (Lanfeust de Troy) is high fantasy in a world where everyone has an individual magical ability but two characters find out they're gifted with an absolute power to make anything happen, and while it gets dark at times, it's still very lighthearted throughout, and the humor is...well, I think it's best described as teen boy humor. And it has a tendency to objectify its female characters, as you'll quickly parse out from the one cover I used here or if you browse more covers.

But still, it holds a special place in my heart, I guess. And on my shelves.

The sequel series, Lanfeust des Etoiles, turns it into a space opera, and goes a little overboard with the pop culture reference at times, though overall still maintains that balance of serious/at times dark story and lighthearted comedy.

After that the franchise is utter chaos to me, and I've lost track. I know there was another sequel series, which I dropped partway through, and a spinoff that retold part of the original series from the PoV of the main love interest (in the period of time she spent away from the main group). There was a comedy spin-off about the troll species unique to this world, a prequel series, probably more I don't even know exist.

Les Démons d'Alexia

Something I can probably be a little less ashamed of including here.

Some backstory here. The Editions Dupuis are a giant of the Belgian bande dessinée industry, and for many, many years I was subscribed to their weekly magazine. That magazine was (mostly) made up of excerpts from the various books that the éditions were publishing at the time; those that were made of comic strips would usually get a couple pages of individual scripts, while the ongoing narratives got cut into episodes that were a few pages long (out of a typical 48 page count for a single BD album). Among those were this series.

For the first few volumes, I wasn't super into this series, probably because I was a little too young and smack dab in the middle of my "trying to be one of the boys" phase. But around book 3 I got really invested, to the point where I own the second half of the series because I had canceled by subscription by then but still wanted to know more.

Alexia is an exorcist with unusual talents, but little control, who's introduced to a group that specializes in researching paranormal phenomena, solving cases that involve the paranormal, that kinda stuff.

As a result of the premise, the series has a pretty slow start since it has to build up mystery around the source of Alexia's powers, but once it gets going and we get to what is essentially the series' main conflict, it gets really interesting.

Plus, witches. I'm a simple gay who likes strong protagonists and witches.

Murena

There was a point where my mtyhology nerdery led me to look for more stuff about the historical cultures that created them, and so I'd be super into stuff set in ancient Rome (I'd say "or Greece or Egypt" but let's face it, it was almost always Rome).

Murena is a series set just before the start of Emperor Nero's rule. You know, the one who was emperor when Rome burned, and according to urban legend either caused the fire or played the fiddle while it did (note: "fiddle" is a very English saying, it's usually the lyre in other languages). He probably didn't, it probably was propaganda, but he was a) a Roman Emperor, none of whom were particularly stellar guys and b) mean to Christians, who eventually got to rewrite history. So he's got a bad rep.

The series goes for a very historical take on events, albeit fictionalized (the protagonist and main PoV, the titular Lucius Murena, is himself fictional) and attempts to humanize the people involved in those events. Each book also includes some of the sources used to justify how events and characters are depicted, which is a nice touch.

It's also divided in subseries called "cycles" (books 1-4, 5-8 and the ongoing one starts at 9). I stopped after 9, though I think it's mostly a case of not going to bookstores often anymore. Plus it took four years between 9 and 10, and again between 10 and 11. But the first eight books made for a pretty solid story that honestly felt somewhat concluded as is, so it's a good place to start.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone -Chapter 26

Title: Preparations

Warning:  it’s filler.  I figured we needed some cute daddy Tyler. lol

Tagging:  @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @miss-smutty​, @tragiclyhip​

“When you met mumma, you guys were working together, right?”

Addie poses the question as she sits atop the kitchen island; legs swinging back and forth as they dangle over the edge, the heels of silver and gold glitter infused jelly sandals lightly thumping against the wood. She insisted on bringing one of her favourite pairs of shoes from home; arguing that she didn’t care that they were ‘out of season’ and that she would wear what she wants, when she wants, and no one could tell her otherwise. In the end they’d gone perfectly with the new ‘Christmas’ dress she’d picked out Bloomingdales; a vibrant yellow concoction with capped sleeves embellished with strips of lace, a sash around the waist that ties in an enormous bow at the back, and an elaborate tulle skirt several layers thick that shimmers in the light. Forgoing all the burgundy, emerald green, and red dresses that had lined the regular priced racks in favour of an outfit from the leftover and highly discounted summer section. It was a hill Esme hadn't been willing to die on; preferring that Addie showcase both her independence in choosing her own outfit, and being proud of her personal style and preferences. And it suits her; as bright and adorable as her personality with just enough ‘no fucks given’ sprinkled on for good measure.

While tiny and seemingly fragile, she can be extremely assertive and adverse to any form of compromise; tenacious to a fault and digging her heels in and sticking to her guns when she feels she’s one hundred right about her stance. Even if there’s mountains of proof to show that she is, in fact, completely wrong. Someone so stubborn and feisty lingering inside that cute, wee package; able to hold her own while out playing with her older siblings and not afraid to get a bloody nose or a fat lip or a black eye. And not deterred in the slightest when she DOES get injured; right back to what she was doing only hours after getting stitches or a cast removed. Not shying away from climbing trees or splashing in mud puddles or helping muck out the goats stalls while wearing clunky rubber boots paired with a Disney princess dress. Very much like her older sister had been at that age; enjoying being physical and active and playing sports and rough housing one minute, then showcasing her more ‘girly side’ the next. Loving trips to the salon with mummy for manis and pedis; enjoying picking her own shade of polish and then getting to sip orange juice from a champagne glass while getting a facial and her hair trimmed. Collecting dolls along with various rocks and shells and beach glass. Superhero figures taking up residence on her bedroom shelves right alongside stuffies of her favourite animals -koalas, sloths, and kangaroos currently at the top of the list- and snow globes from different parts of the world. Her closet filled with not only frilly dresses and sparkly leggings and colourful sweaters emblazoned with unicorns and french bulldogs and flamingos, but old hand me downs from her brothers; ripped and faded jeans and tattered t-shirts and board shorts.

“Right,” Tyler confirms, as he tends to running a brush through her waist length hair; damp from misting it down with a spray bottle in order to easier part it into sections.

It’s a far cry from his old life; his beaten and busted up hands with their multitude of scars and calluses once used to being soaked in blood and caked with dirt. Large and weathered with misshapen knuckles, they’d long ago gotten accustomed to hard, manual labour and the brutality that he’d had to inflict on others; fists that pummelled bodies and faces and fingers that pulled triggers and wrapped around throats and choked the life out of combatants. And while they still get caked in mud from working around the house and they’re still entrusted to load magazines and are capable of taking a gun apart in thirteen seconds flat, they’ve morphed into other uses. Beginning with diapering babies and tending to the impossibly tiny snaps on jumpers, buttons on little sweaters, and zippers on sleepers. Moving on to tying kid sized shoe laces and cleaning and patching up skinned knees and elbows. Advancing to far more difficult hair styling techniques than the simple ponytails he’d began affixing on Millie when she was a toddler; various styles of braids adorned with ribbons, and snapping barrettes and clamping clips into place.

Being a girl dad is unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The six short years -despite the little time he’d actually been home- he’d spent with Austin had prepared him for raising boys. His son, when healthy, had been extremely active and fearless and full of curiosity and energy; getting as messy and as dirty as possible and loving every second of it. Obsessed with superheroes and sports and always clad in clothing that displayed his favourites; football jerseys and baseball caps and sweats emblazoned with Superman or Batman logos. He had been terrified twelve years ago when the news had come in that Millie was in fact going to be a girl; not only envisioning frilly dresses and a closet full of pink and those ridiculous headbands parents insist on putting on their infants, but thinking back to his own treatment of women. The days when he’d used them for nothing more than sex; random strangers picked up in bars or that he’d meet on the street in whatever city a job sent him to. A failed marriage; putting more of a priority on the military than he did on treating his wife properly. And all he could think about was how having a daughter was somehow a punishment for the bad shit he’d done. A little girl that he’d have to protect from guys like him.

It was hard to get used to; big fingers having to master putting in tiny earrings and tending to impossibly small zippers and buttons , getting comfortable with the amount of pink and purple in their rooms and closets. Eventually graduating into attending tea parties and playing with Barbies and helping make crafts; getting used to paint on his palms and between his fingers and glitter stuck under his nails and in his hair and beard. Determined to be a hands-on father even if its activities are way outside of his comfort zone; gymnastic meets and dance recitals as opposed to lacrosse matches and football games. Being a girl dad isn’t for the weak; having to worry about your little girls’ hearts being broken and if the guys they pick will treat them right and if they themselves will make smart and responsible choices as teenagers. And the hormones; the up and down emotions and the drastic switch from bitchy to overly sensitive. Having a wife go through it once a month is enough. never mind the thought of three other girls. The worry of how he’ll handle not only the emergence of puberty, but if all four female ‘clocks’ decide to sync up. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle THAT; all the women in his life going through the cramps and the moodiness and the demands to be coddled and babied one minute and left the fuck alone the next.

“Does that mean mummy beat up and killed bad guys too?”

“No. She never did any of that stuff. That was my job, not hers.”

“What did she do?”

“She tracked down the bad guys. And where they were doing mean things to good people. Then she told me...or guys like me...where they were so we could go and take care of things.”

“So you could go and kill them?”

“You don’t always have to kill people. Sometimes it’s enough to just rough them up a bit.”

“And other times they fight back and try to hurt you and you have to hurt them first?”

“Pretty much.”

“Have you killed a lot of people?”

“Not that many," he lies. It's actually a staggering amount; the death toll -from his hand alone- in Dhaka putting the count well over three hundred.

“How many is ‘not that many'?’”

“I don’t know, Peanut. I’ve never kept track.”

“But you’ve helped more people than you’ve hurt. That’s what mummy said when I asked if it was true. If Tyler was lying when he told me you kill people for a living.”

“That’s a while ago. That you asked mummy that.”

“I was three. That’s a whole two years ago. But sometimes I think about it. Especially when you go away. I think about you having to kill people.”

“And what do you think WHEN you think about that? About what I sometimes have to do?”

“I dunno know,” Addie shrugs, and then lifts the spray bottle clutched in both hands and holds it towards her face; giggling when she pulls the trigger and catches some of the mist in her mouth.

“Does it bother you? When you think about it? That I’ve killed people? That sometimes I still have to?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Kind of a hard thing to hear, don’t you think? That daddy has to do stuff like that?”

“It’s your job. It’s what you do. You have to hurt people to save other people. And sometimes, if they try and hurt you first, you have to kill them. Because if you didn’t, they might kill you and then you never come home and we never get to see you again. It’s not THAT hard to hear. I’d rather you kill someone and come home than never see you again.”

“You know,” he plucks the spray bottle from her hands and dampens a section of hair. “You’re pretty smart for only five.”

“Smart like mummy.”

He leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Cute like her too.”

“Are you going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Who would I get in trouble with?”

“God. Isn’t that one of the things we’re not supposed to do? Kill people?”

“How do you know about that? We don’t talk about that stuff at home.”

“I hear things. At school. Some of the older kids talking. Are you? Going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Probably,” he admits. “I’m sure I’ll face some kind of judgement for it. When my time comes.”

“But wouldn’t it be okay ‘cause you only kill bad people? That were hurting good people? Wouldn’t that be allowed? And if you had to kill someone so you could come home to us, wouldn’t that be okay too?”

“I don’t know,” he snags a yellow cloth ribbon off the island and begins braiding a section of hair around it. “I’ve never thought that far ahead about things.”

“It would suck if you got in trouble for helping people. That wouldn’t be fair at all. If you got sent to hell for doing stuff like that. I mean, you were doing something GOOD. You weren’t doing something bad. You HAD to kill evil people to help good people. And to make sure you come home to mummy and us kids. I can’t see you getting in trouble for something like THAT.”

“Doesn’t make much sense to me either. But not a lot does anymore.”

“I’ll be really mad if you get in trouble and sent somewhere different than me. I don’t want us to be in two separate places. I want us to be together. All of us. You and mummy and all us kids. I don’t want us to all be separated. Well, maybe Millie could be. Because she’s mean to me. All the time.”

“Millie is going through some stuff. She’s going to be a teenager soon. A lot of drama leading up to THAT.”

“She says I’m annoying. That she used to really like me when I was a baby and couldn’t do anything. But now I can do lots of stuff and I can talk and she says that pisses her off. That I’m a bratty little sister.”

“You are NOT bratty.”

“Right? That’s what I said. She’s bratty if anything. Am I annoying, daddy? Don’t lie. You can tell me the truth.”

“You are not annoying. If anyone is annoying, it’s Millie.”

“I said THAT too! But she’s mean. She even threatened to cut my hair off. Shave it. Because I couldn’t find my brush and I borrowed hers and she didn’t like that. So you know what I did? While you were gone?”

“What did you do?”

“I took the tops off two Oreo cookies and I ate the middle and then I put in mayonnaise and I put the tops back on and gave them to Millie. I told her I was being a good little sister and bringing her a snack. And she put a whole one in her mouth! She almost puked!”

He can’t help but chuckle. “You actually did that?”

“Yup. It was awesome. I laughed so hard, I almost peed! But then she started chasing me around the house threatening to kill me. Mummy was screaming at her to lighten up, that it was just a joke. And then she told mummy to shut up and Tyler got mad. REALLY mad. He tackled Millie and grabbed her by the hair and pushed her face into the carpet. Then he put her in a figure four leg lock and made her cry.”

“Millie told your mom to shut up?”

“Oooops…” Addie tilts her head back to look at him, a sheepish smile curving her lips. “....I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part.”

“Who told you not to tell me? Millie?”

The five year old shakes her head.

“TJ?”

Another shake, followed by a tiny “No.”

“Addie…”

“It was mummy! She said not to tell you because you’d get pissed off and you didn’t need to. Because she took care of it right when it happened. Well, Tyler did. He was really, really, REALLY mad. She learned her lesson. I’m sure of it. He made her cry. Lots.”

“Did that happen a lot? Millie getting mouthy with your mom?”

“Not really.”

He stares pointedly down at her.

“A few times,” she reluctantly admits. “She said some things that were really mean. To mummy. And she said the F word once, too. Mixed with the B word.”

“She said that ? To your mom?”

Addie chews nervously on her bottom lip. “Yeah, she called her an f-ing B word.”

“What did mummy do?”

“She didn’t get a chance to do anything. Desi freaked out. And he’s really big and he can be really scary when he wants. Like you. Desi told her that she should never, ever talk to her mum like that. And that you’d be really mad if you found out. And that she’d rather deal with him than you. Which is true. Desi might be bigger than you, but you’re definitely tougher. I mean, he doesn’t kill people for a living. You do.”

“Things were pretty bad, huh? While I was gone.”

“A little. Millie went off the reservation. Big time. She’s lucky she’s even breathing. ‘Cause Tyler was ready to kill her. And I don’t blame him. You’re mad, aren’t you. Are you mad, daddy?”

“A bit.”

“You know how I can tell? That you’re mad? Your neck moves. Right here,” she reaches up to press to fingertips against the side of his throat. “Where the bad guy shot you a long time ago.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Mummy told me. I asked her how you got that scar. She said that a long time ago, her and Ovi were in trouble and you had to get them out of a really bad place. And then you made sure they were safe and sound, but a bad guy shot you. In the neck. And that’s why you have the scar there.”

“Did that scare you? Hearing that?”

“A little, I guess. I mean, you could have died, right?”

“I could have, yeah.”

“And then you and mummy never would have gotten married. And had kids. Millie would be the only one to exist. None of us would. So yeah, that part scared me a bit; that the bad guy could have killed and none of us ever would have been born. Did you kill him?”

“Eventually.”

“Mummy said she stayed with you. After it happened. And that she went back to Australia with you and that’s how she ended up there. It’s where you guys got married. And had Millie and me and Kota and Brookie. That we were the ones born there. So we’re REAL Australians, like you. Everyone else is American.”

“Everyone else WAS American. You’re all Australian now.”

“How does that work?”

“A lot of papers you have to fill out. To become a citizen. But you all are. Mummy and I made sure of it.”

“Is mummy an Australian too?”

“By marriage, yeah.”

“It’s a good thing she married you. You’re a lucky guy, daddy. That someone like mummy fell in love with you.”

“I am,” he confirms. “Very lucky. She’s a pretty good mummy, huh?”

“She’s the best mummy EVER. If we could pick our mummies, I’d pick her. Because she’s nice and she gives good cuddles and kisses and she tells the best silly jokes. And she’s super smart and really cute too. And little! Like me!”

“That’s where you get from. Being so cute and wee. You’re just like your mumma.”

Her eyes sparkle as she smiles broadly up at him; the corners and the bridge of her nose crinkle. “And that’s a good thing, yeah?”

“A very good thing,” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he brushes the tip of his nose against hers; smiling at the way she throws her head back and giggles.

He’s seen her mother do that exact movement and expression a number of times; excitement while on the rides at Disney World with the kids, when she’s had one too many glasses of wine and even his terrible ‘dad jokes’ are suddenly hilarious, when they’ve been on one of their ‘mommy and daddy’ vacations and she’s gotten up the guts to try something new and exciting; emboldened by his encouragement and forever feeling safe and secure as long as he’s by her side. So much of Esme in the tiny little girl in front of him; tenacious and ferociously intelligent and loving deeply and fearlessly. Knowing the darkness and the horrors that exist in the world but not allowing herself to be tarnished by it; always finding ways to smile and laugh and find the beauty in every day.

“What do you think mummy would have done if she didn’t do the job she did?” Addie inquires, when she finally drops her head back down and he’s able to return to tending her hair.

“I don’t know. Teach? Be a nurse? Maybe a doctor?”

“How would you have met her? If she didn’t do her old job?”

“Maybe I would have met her on the beach. In Australia. Maybe she would have come there on a vacation.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you would have gone to where she used to live. In Chicago.”

“She used to live in Colorado. That’s where she was born and where she grew up. Chicago is a totally different place.”

“She used to live by the mountains. When I was in her tummy, you guys lived on a hobby farm. And you had goats and chickens. Mummy says we still own that house.”

“Yup, we do. We rent it out.”

“Can we go there one day? I’d like to see it. I’d like to see where you guys were living when I was in mummy’s belly. Is that where I was made?”

“We’re pretty sure that’s where it happened. Not many other places it could have been.”

“Maybe we can go and visit. And I can see where I was made. That would be fun. I want to see the mountains.”

“Maybe one day.” He finishes up the first braided pigtail, securing it with an impossibly small elastic before turning his attention to the other section of hair.

“If you met mummy a different way, would you have still liked her? Would you have still fallen in love with her?”

“Yup. Why wouldn’t have I? She still would have been mummy. She still would have been the same person. Still would have been the most beautiful girl ever.”

“Do you think she still would have fallen in love with you?”

“I sure as hell hope so. Would sure suck if she didn’t. Your mumma is pretty special, Peanut. She’s the love of my life. Took me until I was thirty five to meet her.”

“You were married before, though. To Austin's mom. You didn’t love her?”

“I did. But not in the way I love your mum. Your mum? That’s who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Grow really, really, REALLY old with. It’s a whole other kind of love. And you know what? It’s not easy to explain. You just know what you feel.”

“Imagine if things were opposite? If you went to Colorado and met mummy instead of her meeting you in Australia and working with you? And then you would have stayed there; where the snow and the mountains are instead of the beach and the ocean. How come you moved? Why didn’t you guys stay? Where the mountains are?”

“Things changed. We weren’t happy there anymore. We needed to get away. Go back to the place where we were the happiest.”

“In Australia?”

“Yup.”

“That’s where I’m happiest too. I love it there. I love how warm it is; the sun and the sand and the water. I like the sound it makes; listening to it when I’m trying to fall asleep. And I like how the beach feels; between my toes and when I let it run through my fingers. And I love my room and my toys and my school and my friends and all the goats and our pigs and our chickens. And Charlie. I love him the most. I love making him peanut butter sandwiches. I’d miss him the most. If we had to leave. We won’t have to leave will we, daddy?”

“I don’t see why we would have to.”

“I don’t ever want to leave Australia. It’s perfect there. It’s where I was born. And where you were born too. We have that in common. We were BOTH born there.”

“Yeah…” he grins, and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “...we were.”

“I mean, we have other stuff in common too. Because you’re my dad and that means you helped make me so that means half of me is half of you. The other half is from mummy. And we both love surfing. And animals. And Vegemite. I LOVE Vegemite. It’s sooooo good.”

“Speaking of Vegemite, was it you that left the Vegemite and Nutella sandwich for Santa?”

Addie giggles. “Maybe…”

“Why would you ever put the two of those together?”

“Tyler made it for his school lunch once and he let me try a bit and it was really good! So I thought Santa might like to try it. Part American, part Australian.”

“You know, that’s pretty genius. And it worked. I tried a bit and it wasn’t bad.”

“Right?! You wouldn’t think it would work, but it does. Somehow. Kind of like you and mummy.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“You and mummy are so different. You’re really tall and big and she’s really short and small. Like, you know how mummy is a morning person? She’s always really cheerful and smiley? And you’re not? You’re moody and miserable. A total grump face! And you don’t like to talk until you’ve had your first coffee. With three shots of espresso in it.”

“You notice all that stuff?”

“I notice everything. Mummy says I’m very observant. And that I have really good instincts. Like you. She says ‘cause my tummy tells me if something is right or wrong. And yours does too. You know how else you and mummy are different?”

“How?”

“Mummy talks to everyone! She’s very talky talky. A chatterbox.”

“Geez,” Tyler grins, and tugs playfully at the completed pigtail. “I wonder who ELSE is a chatterbox?”

“She’s a social butterfly. She makes friends everywhere she goes. People like her. Because she’s so bubbly and cute and she makes peoples hearts feel warm because she’s so nice to them. You’re more serious. You don’t talk a lot. At least not to people you don’t know. People are scared of you sometimes. Because how big you are and because you got all the drawings on you and the scars and stuff. They think you’re mean. ‘Cause of all that.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think you’re just daddy. I KNOW you’re not mean. I KNOW you’re a nice guy. I KNOW you give awesome hugs; your arms are big but they feel nice and they wrap all the way around me! If people really paid attention, they’d see that you’re nice. You have soft eyes. They’re blue and they’re pretty and they’re kind. Especially when you smile and they go all crinkly. If people really gave you a chance, they’d see you’re not scary at all. You’re only like that if you HAVE to be. If bad people are near mummy or us kids.”

“Are you ever scared of me?” It’s a recurring thought; if his children ever pick up on the worry and the tension and the fear that comes with his issues. It’s a feat some days; forcing himself out of bed and putting one foot in front of the other. Wanting nothing more than to stay under the covers and surrender to the exhaustion that comes with doing battle with his own mind every day. But his family is his number one priority, whether it’s a good day or a horrible one. And he’ll ‘fake it until he makes it’ as long as his children and his wife know that they’re loved; provided and cared for and made to feel safe and protected.

“Why would I be? Why would I be scared of my daddy?”

“Well, you know what I do for a living. You know what I’ve had to do to people. Does that scare you?”

“Nope. Because that’s just your job. It’s not who you are. When you come home, you’re just daddy. You take us bike riding and hiking and swimming and surfing. And you help us find rocks and shells and you let me sit on your shoulders when we walk on the beach or go into town. And we take naps. On the hammock. I love our naps on the hammock.”

He smiles. “So do I.”

“Sometimes I get a little worried. When you get upset. Or you and mummy argue. I don’t like when you guys argue. I always worry that you’ll hate each other. That you’ll get a divorce. And then you won’t live with us. It makes me sad when I think about that.”

“You don’t need to be sad, Peanut. That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to go and live somewhere else. I’m going to stay right where I am; with you guys and your mumma. And just because we argue? That doesn’t mean we’re going to hate each other. I could NEVER hate your mum. And I’m pretty sure she’d say the same thing about me. We love each other. Very much. Divorce is NOT something you need to think about. But do I ever scare you? Have I ever?”

“I don’t have a reason to be scared of you. Because you love me. You’d never hurt me. I never worry about that. Not even when you yell and your voice gets REALLY loud. I know you’d never do anything mean to me. Just to bad people. And I’m not a person. I’m a GOOD person.”

“You definitely are. You’re a VERY good person. An amazing little person.”

She smiles. “Like mummy.”

“Just like her. More than even I ever realized.”

******

“Addie…” TJ singsongs as he saunters into the kitchen, both hands tucked behind his back. “...what are you doing?”

“Tyler!” She cheerfully greets, and excitedly waves to him with both hands. Her entire face lighting up at the sight of her second favourite male in the house

She’s become extremely close to her oldest brother during her five years on earth; idolizing him and turning to him for help and comfort when daddy is either caught up with one of the other kids, tending to work related matters, or out of the house -and sometimes even the country- all together. And TJ dotes on her in return. Spoiling her and babying her ever since she was an infant and he was always more than willing to help change her diapers and give her feedings. In awe of how tiny she was and how she’d look up at him with so much adoration. He’s the quintessential older brother; patient and loving and ready to kick anyone’s ass that dares messes with her.

“Look at my dress! It’s the one I picked out when I went shopping for mommy. That I kept a secret. Isn’t it awesome?”

“Awesome just like you. It’s really pretty, Ads. Your favourite colour too!”

“Yup! Mummy bought it for me. She said it’s perfect for me. For my personality. It reminds me of Belle’s dress. From Beauty and the Beast.”

“Looks a little like it, I guess. But you know what? It’s even prettier. And you’re more beautiful than Belle. WAY more beautiful.”

“Really?” she gasps, and a noticeable blush creeps into her cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “You really think so?”

“I REALLY think so. Belle has nothing on you. You’re the prettiest princess EVER. Way prettier than ANY of them.”

“Oh goodness!” She clamps both hands over her mouth in embarrassment, then giggles into them. “Like mumma? Just as pretty as her? Mumma is the prettiest EVER.”

“Just a smaller version of her.” TJ leans in close and presses the tip of his nose against hers. “Guess what I have? What you forgot in my room?”

“Adeline!” she cries, when he reveals the item he’d been keeping behind his back. And she snags the doll from him and showers its head and face with kisses as she clutches it tightly to her chest. “Adeline! I’m sorry I forgot you! I didn’t mean to!”

“I kept her safe for you,” TJ says. “So Declan wouldn’t grab her. You know how he likes to get a hold of dolls and torture them. I didn’t want him getting her. She’s way too pretty and I know how much you love her.”

“He’s mean to my dolls! He’s always taking their heads off and putting their arms where their legs should be and crazy shit like that.”

“Hey,” Tyler frowns, and tugs on the half braided pigtail. “What did I say?”

“No bad language. Especially on Christmas Day. I can’t help it though; sometimes it just slips out. If you didn’t swear so much around us kids…”

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus.”

“You swear A LOT, daddy. Especially in the car. When other people don’t drive fast enough or use their blinkers. If mummy knew exactly how much you DO swear around us, she’d be mad. REALLY mad.”

“Your mum has a worse mouth than I do.”

“As if!” Addie scoffs, and he can’t help but smile; easily hearing Esme’s voice and picturing the expression on her face; the corner up her mouth and her nose scrunched up in disgust, eyes slightly narrowed. “Thank you, Tyler!” She curls an arm around her brother’s neck, squeezing as tight as she can. “You’re the best! Thank you for keeping her safe from the Ginger. You’re the best brother EVER! I only trust you with her. And daddy. That’s it. You guys are big and strong and will keep her safe no matter what.”

“What the hell are you wearing?” He addresses his son as the latter moves to the fridge, pausing in the braiding of Addie’s hair to survey TJ’s wardrobe a pair of ill fitting and impossibly baggy jeans, an enormous untucked dress shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a loose pink, purple, and grey striped tie.

“Your pants. And one of your shirts.” TJ reaches into the fridge and grabs a carton of chocolate milk and a jug of white. Closing the door with his hip and carrying them to the counter by the sink; pouring a mix of both into a plastic tumblr retrieved from the dish rack and then snagging two straws from the cupboard. “Mum told me to. She said none of my clothes were good enough for Christmas dinner. All my jeans have holes in them and all t-shirts have to do with surfing. We’ve never had to dress up for Christmas dinner before. Why do we have to start now?”

“Your mum’s trying to make things perfect. To avoid drama. With your grandmother.”

“Too late. Grandma brings drama with her. And drops it on everyone else.” He drags a bar stool across the floor and places it in front of his little sister. “Here Ads,” he holds the cup in front of her. “A yellow straw just for you. So you don’t have to share my germs. Let me hold it; so you don’t spill anything on your dress.”

Giving a delighted squeal and a smile of appreciation, she takes a pull from the straw. “I think you look handsome, Tyler. You’re growing up. You’re going to be as big as daddy soon.”

“It’s going to be a while before I’m THAT big. But I’m going to work on it. As soon as I’m allowed, I’m going to lift heavy too and put on ALL kinds of muscle.”

“Then you can go after bad people too. And beat them up and kill them when you have to.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tyler suggests. “Something tells me mummy might have an issue with that.”

“Why doesn’t mum just tell grandma to get lost?” TJ inquires. “It’s not like they like each other. They never have. They’ve always fought. I remember how they’d get into it at Christmas. When we were still living in Colorado. Grandma would get drunk and she’d pick fights with mum and mum would fight back and cry and then you’d go off on grandma. Is that going to happen this year? ‘Cause it’s been nice and quiet at Christmas. Do we HAVE to listen to grandma's shit?”

“What did I just tell your sister? About the language?”

“She’s five, but she’s right. It IS hard to stop and it does just come out. But do we, dad? Do we really have to put up with her?”

“It’s one night. I think you can manage. If I can grin and bear it, so can you. Suck it up.”

“If she starts in on mum about ANYTHING, I’m going to lose it. That’s my mum. No one talks to my mum like that. I almost taught Jacobi a lesson. For calling mum cute and wanting to ask her out. I’ll teach grandma a lesson too. I’m not afraid of her.”

“If anyone is going to teach her a lesson, it’s going to be me. You stay out of it. Your mum wouldn’t want you getting into it with her. You’re TEN.”

“Doesn’t matter how old I am. That’s MY mum. And no one is going to treat her bad. We’re supposed to protect her, remember? You and I.”

“You’re supposed to be a kid and stay that way as long as you can. I’M supposed to protect your mom. And I think I’ve been pretty damn good at it for the last twelve and a half years. And if your grandma starts? I’ll stop it. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why does she hate you so much anyway? Is it still the same crap? How she’s pissed because you stole mum away from her family and moved her all the way to Australia? ‘Cause you got her pregnant before you married her?”

Addie scowls. “Who cares? Lots of people have babies and they aren’t married. And so what if mummy didn’t go back home and she stayed with daddy? She’s an adult. She can do what she wants. And she wanted to be with daddy. None of grandma’s business. I’mma tell her that too. If she starts saying mean things about daddy or mummy. I’mma tell her what for.”

“You’re not going to do a thing,” Tyler informs her. “You’re going to leave all the telling off to me, got it?”

“I don’t like her,” Addie says. “She’s not a nice person. She has a mean smile. And her eyes are empty. They don’t sparkle or anything like that. Are you sure that’s mummy’s mummy? Because when mummy smiles, her eyes sparkle. She LOOKS happy. Grandma? She just looks mean.”

“No one likes her,” TJ grumbles. “Best thing we ever did was get away from her. But IS that why, dad? Is that really why she doesn’t like you? Because she still thinks you stole mum and took her all the way to Australia?”

“It’s a few things.”

“I bet it’s the job too. I bet she really has a problem with THAT.”

“Again…” Addie huffs dramatically. “...who cares? So what if daddy kills people? They’re BAD. They deserve it. He helps good people and sometimes when he’s helping them, he has to kill the bad guys. I don’t see a problem with that. If they try and hurt him or kill him, he HAS to kill them first. So he can come home. To us. And mummy. It only makes sense.”

“If Ads can get it, ANYONE can,” TJ says. “She’s only five. What’s grandma? A hundred? If a five year old can get it…”

“Daddy makes the world a better place because he gets rid of the bad people,” Addie continues, as she takes another sip of the drink her brother offers her. “If we had less bad people, everything would be great. There’d be less wars and less people getting hurt and everyone would love one another and be happy. Daddy’s doing a good thing. By sticking up for people. Like you do. At school. You beat up the bullies when you have to. Remember the older kid that tripped me and shoved my face in the mud? Remember him? He’s in grade eight AND you kicked the crap out of me. Because he picked on me.”

“You’re my sister. It’s my job to protect you.”

“And remember that other guy? On the playground by mummy’s store? The one that pulled my hair and told me I was adopted because I’m small and I don’t look like any of you guys. You freaked out on him and made him apologize and scared him away. He’ll cross the street now if he sees you coming.”

“You can’t let bad people get away with doing bad things,” TJ reasons. “If you don’t stop them, they’ll just keep doing bad stuff.”

“Exactly! So it’s a good thing that daddy goes after the bad guys. Grandma needs to learn. And she needs to learn TODAY. You should tell her, Tyler. You should tell her off. You’re not scared of anyone.”

“Not being scared of anyone or anything is not always a good thing,” Tyler informs her. “If you’re not scared, you don’t take a situation or people seriously. That’s when you get hurt. And you know what? No matter how big of a bad ass you think you are? There’s always a bigger one out there somewhere. Believe me. I’ve learned THAT lesson the hard way.”

“The guy who shot you just got a lucky one in,” TJ reasons. “You were already hurt. You weren’t one hundred percent. Some guy had already shot you, hadn’t he? A sniper?”

“What’s a sniper?” Addie inquires. “Is it like Swipper on Dora? Something like him?”

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Tyler says. “You don’t need to know that stuff. Not until you’re older. WAY older.”

“A sniper’s a guy that hides somewhere and shoots you,” TJ replies. “Somewhere where no one sees him. It’s why they’re so dangerous. You don’t even know where they are. They just shoot you. And they kill you before you even know what happened.”

“But daddy didn’t get killed. If a sniper shot daddy, shouldn’t he be dead?”

Combing his hand through her bangs, Tyler tips his daughter’s head back. “What did I just say? About you not needing to know about this stuff?”

“I’m curious now. Tyler said they hide and shoot people and kill them. How come you didn’t die? If a sniper shot you?”

“I guess he didn’t manage to get a good shot in.”

“It was the other guy that almost killed him,” TJ says, and takes a sip of the concoction in his hand. “The one that got him in the neck. That’s when he almost died. Mum saved him.”

“How? How did mummy save daddy? Daddy…” she swivels around in her stool to face him. “...how did mummy save you? Did she shoot the bad guy back?”

“Mum stuck her fingers in his neck,” TJ says. “To stop the bleeding. Or he would have bled to death.”

Addie’s eyes widen. “She DID?”

“When you’re older, MAYBE I’ll tell you more more about it. But for now…” Tyler places his hands on her shoulders and gently turns her back around. “...you don’t need to know this stuff. And you…” he stares pointedly at his son. “...don’t talk about this around her. She doesn’t need to know about this. She’s a baby still.”

“I’m not a baby!” Addie objects. “I’m five! I can almost ride my bike without training wheels. Babies can’t do that.”

“Just don’t, alright?” He addresses TJ. “Don’t talk about this stuff around her. Because she’s going to repeat all of this and she’s going to repeat it to your mum and that won’t end well. For you OR me.”

“It happened though. I mean, it’s part of how you guys met and got together and ended up getting married and stuff. It’s your history. I don’t see why…”

“I said ENOUGH. No more. Not around her. Got it?” He’s on edge; the mere mention of Dhaka and the incidents on the bridge playing straight into the anxiety and the panic he’d felt the night before; when he’d woken up from the nightmare and been on the verge of losing control and had turned to the fentanyl for relief. And it scares him; how easy it had been to not only access the powerful med, but actually take it. He’d encountered no resistance or hesitation; remorse and guilt not setting in until the following morning when he’d woken up and it had been the first thing on his mind. It’s alarming how quick things can return; an addict’s mind and behaviour.

Nodding, TJ holds his hands up in surrender.

“You’re both going to be nice tonight,” he says, and finishes Addie’s final braid. “To grandma. Because your mum is already stressed out enough and we don’t need to make it worse for her. So if the best you can do is smile and nod, just do that. I’m not asking you to kiss her ass. I’m just asking you to be civil. Can you handle that?”

TJ nods.

“You?” He tugs on one of Addie’s pigtails. “Can you do that? Be civil?”

“Do I have to be near her? Or sit on her lap? ‘Cause I draw the line there.”

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just don’t be a little asshole, alright?”

“Me? I’m Mary Freaking Sunshine, remember? That’s what Grandpa Koen calls me.”

“Well then live up to it and be nice to your grandmother. Smile until your face hurts, got it?”

“What do I get out of it?”

He smirks.

“Mummy says to always negotiate. Never settle for the first offer. Can I sleep in the big bed tonight? For being nice to grandma?”

“No.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifts her off the stool; pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her on the ground.

She turns to face him. Head cocked to the side and one hand clutching her doll, the other planted firmly on her hip. “Can I have ice cream for my bedtime snack?”

"Maybe."

“Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“You ARE just like your mom, aren’t you.”

“I’ll be nice if I can have ice cream for my bedtime snack and you snuggle with me and draw on my back for half an hour. And that’s after FOUR stories.”

“You're bossy, you know that? Two stories.”

“Three. That’s as low as I’ll go.”

“I will give you two stories, ice cream for your snack, and forty five minutes of snuggling and drawing on your back. Instead of half an hour. We got a deal?”

Her eyes narrow as she considers it; nibbling on her bottom lip and swishing her hips back and forth. “You’re good at this.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Peanut. I’ve dealt with tougher than you. What do you say?” He offers a hand. “Deal?”

“Deal!” she agrees, his hand easily swallowing hers as they shake on it.

Grinning, he runs a hand over the top of her head and then drops a kiss on her hair. “You really DO have a lot of your mum in you.”

“Great things come in small packages,” Addie reasons, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down and pecks her lips. “Thank you, daddy!” she chirps. “My hair looks beautiful. You always do it perfect.”

“Pretty hard not to when my subject is so cute. Good thing I married your mum, huh? So I could have a kid as cute as you?”

“You really are a lucky man!” she declares and then cheerfully skips out of the room.

“I hope grandma is on her best behaviour,” TJ says, as he finishes the drink in his hand and then slides off the stool and returns it to its place at the island. “Because if she DOES start on mum, it’s going to be a wild night. I really hope she watches her step.”

“My too, kiddo,” Tyler sighs, and reaches out to tousle his son’s hair. “Me too.”

[navyhyuck]

week one | previous | masterlist | next

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃, 𝐉𝐀𝐘.

↳ a love letter a week, and it has you wondering who’s your secret admirer. you have nine weeks, eight candidates, and one story to live. will you find out who your ‘jay’ is?

a/n :: hi hi hi fellas here’s the first part (technically, since the other one was an intro) <3 uhh a little fun fact! this project mentioned in this chapter was one that i actually had to complete last year (before corona lol) and i thankfully got a good grade on it even tho my teacher swore on all gods that it was very difficult,, he also let me put up nct posters in the classroom <3 enjoy :) [also, i may have missed some tags!!! if you aren’t here and you sent in an ask before, please do so again since it’s been some time since i last updated this!! ty mwah]

wc :: 2.2k

taglist: @childofthecycle @takoyakkun @the8luvr @staywrites @chocolattees @cherry-jaemin @cloudzume @babytoadz @cherrystay @sandaigdigan-reads @hoes4hoseok

couldn’t tag: @x-dawna-x

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

There have been far too many unfortunate events unfolding in your day so far, starting off with the stupid guy that had parked just a little into your spot (that still had you thinking more than you had to do for any science test, and you were highly tempted to just smash the car instead) and then moving onto your English class where you were given a pop quiz on the third act of Romeo and Juliet, and then finally, the situation you’re in now.

It’s the last period of your day, which is supposed to be the most laid back in certain cases, but you’re slumped in your desk in the AP Chemistry lab room for a new assignment of partners. You’ve already attempted to convince Mrs. Choi to let you continue being partners with Chaeryeong, who was looking equally as gloomy from the opposite side of the room, but she had passively dismissed your request with something that went along the lines of ‘expanding our knowledge as a class.’ Not only did that sound like bullshit to you, it actually was, but you didn’t do anything more than stay put as she called out the assignments of partners.

“...Chaeryeong and Jisoo. Beomgyu and Yuna. Y/N and Jisung.”

You’re frozen at the sound of your partner’s name, slightly expecting your teacher to pair you up with one of the overachievers that usually sat in the back and talked shit about the ‘untalented’ kids, but you’re also pleasantly surprised. Turning your head, you meet the said boy’s eyes from a distance, shining into yours before a smile spreads across his face almost immediately. You return one back (probably forcibly from the shock you’re experiencing of the Han Jisung actually recognizing you and smiling at you) before whipping your head back to the front, gulping deeply.

Fuck.

“Now that we’ve split into pairs, there is a list of chemical compounds on this table. Come up with your partner and choose one wisely. After everyone’s chosen, I will tell you what your assignment is.” Mrs. Choi gestures vaguely with her hands, turning away as the rest of the students move around to find their partner. You stay planted in your seat, eyes barely staying open as you quietly continue to try and calm the beating of your heart. You’re sure that it’s not healthy, the erraticness overflowing to every single vein and artery in your body until you’re filled with the filling remembrance that your teacher just paired you up with the single most attractive boy in the school. Well—you purse your lips, thinking about that Hyunjin guy from yesterday—Jisung still causes more heart palpitations than some new guy could ever.

When you deem yourself safe enough to finally use your legs without thinking about falling, you stand up, meeting your partner halfway in the middle of the classroom. He doesn’t say anything at first, possibly because you’ve found a newfound interest in your dirty Converse, but he chuckles as a few seconds pass by, making you look up. “Hey there, thanks for looking at me. Wanna go choose a compound?”

You blanch at his choice of words, but you nod slowly. “Uh-huh, yeah. Sure.”

You learn later, alongside Jisung, that your assignment was to successfully convert your chemical compound into another, with exact proportions being massed properly. Just as you listen to Mrs. Choi going on and on about proper dilution, you slowly start blanking out into the space of ‘why did my dumbass decide to take this class’ and ‘this isn’t worth the pain that I’m receiving.’ Thankfully, Jisung has an equally shocked look at his face as the explanation continues, and you’re sure that there isn’t a way the two of you would be able to complete the assignment properly. There was no way; it was practically impossible.

“I just want to remind you guys that this is definitely possible! Students have succeeded well in the past years! You and your partner should be working together as efficiently as possible, which is why I mixed it up a little this time. There should not be any distractions, understood?” Mrs. Choi finishes, nodding as if someone had actually answered her rhetorical question. “Also, I’ll be grading you on how well you manage your time, so if there’s unnecessary chit-chat, that’ll be points deducted from your grade. No exceptions. Got it?”

You think maybe she’s referring to the time you and Chaeryoung accidentally fucked up the entire experimental process by forgetting to set a timer (it was because the two of you were preoccupied by a TikTok dance, though you would never admit it to anyone), or maybe the time that Jaehyun guy almost set half the chemistry lab on fire by not disposing of chemicals properly. You’d think the school would be a little more careful considering they’re letting teenage students handle dangerous chemicals, but thinking of the time that your teacher told you it was fine to handle acid without wearing gloves, it clearly was never a practice.

You and Jisung start to prepare, with you carefully reading through the reaction process several times and measuring out the chemicals as precisely as possible while Jisung handles the rest of the equipment, bringing over pipettes and scales. As the two of you continued working for the rest of the class period, only till the very end did you notice that you were, possibly for once, actually using all of your class time properly.

“Are you going to homecoming?” Jisung asks as you set down the beaker on the scale, startling you with a non-chemistry related question. If you were being honest, you hadn’t thought about it; homecoming wasn’t too big of a thing at your school to begin with, plus, there wasn’t even the cliche dance that everyone thought they’d get as kids. It was one of the first home games played by the football team (which was pretty shitty, for the record) and they crowned a homecoming king and queen every year. Honestly, it was usually a bore.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. Maybe constantly reminding yourself every two seconds that Han Jisung was speaking to you would help, but you couldn’t get over it. At least not today. “I haven’t really thought about it.” He hums thoughtfully, taking the beaker from you as you pass it along.

“Have you ever gone to a swim meet before?” His question sounds rather interrogative in nature, and he seems to notice, stumbling over his words for the first time. “Um—I mean, have you gone to any of our swim meets before? You see, I’m on the team and I feel like I’ve seen you before at one of them, and it’s fine if you have gone! I’m just curious.” He holds up his hands in defense as if he’d said something wrong, the chemical splashing around in the beaker as you widen your eyes.

“Fuck, be careful,” you retrieve the object from his hand, placing it down safely on the table to ensure you weren’t going to take after the setting-the-classroom-on-fire guy. Jisung watches as you do so, perhaps overanalyzing the fact that your gloved fingers brushed past his in that moment, now an apologetic look forming over his face. “Sorry, you were about to spill it on yourself.”

“No, it’s fine!” He replies, the volume of his voice attracting attention from the nearby classmates, including Chaeryoung, who gives you a small smirk. You return a pointed glare in her direction, trying to calm down as you realize you’re overheating from the situation at hand right now. “Shit, sorry, that was kind of loud.”

“It’s okay, Jisung,” his name tastes unfamiliar on your tongue, only having been used around Ryujin earlier. Ryujin, you remember, my best friend that’s practically in love with the boy standing in front of me. “I’ve been to your swim meets before, I mean—no offense but—who hasn’t? You guys are undoubtedly the best team in school, who wouldn’t want to watch?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he chuckles wryly, sounding a bit forced. You decide to ignore it and continue working on the project. Thankfully, your teacher gave the class a few days to work on it, or else it would be essentially impossible to finish. “Wait, aren’t you usually there with your friend? The one with the blue hair?”

You raise your eyebrows, somehow already feeling just a little more comfortable around him. He isn’t as stuck up as you expected, and he definitely doesn’t act like a cocky little shit either. Most importantly, he seems to be just as nervous as you. A small smile forms on your lips. “You mean Ryujin?”

“Ah, yeah! Her.”

“Ryujin and I usually go to watch swim meets together, or at least, she drags me around everywhere and that’s one of the places I’m forced to go.” You chuckle at the memory of her towing you towards the pool, swearing that she’ll buy you a hundred dollars worth of milkshakes for the next month if you keep her company. She never kept the promise, but you still remember the feeling of watching people competitively swim. More importantly, the seven most popular boys in the school at the time. “But I go voluntarily now. I think everyone has to have some sort of school spirit, right?”

You look up at him, your eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights and you don’t notice, but Jisung gulps, avoiding your gaze after a split second. “Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Totally, definitely.”

The conversation awkwardly ends there, a little weird but better than having to continue talking about how many times you’ve seen him backstroke his way to a medal. You’re not sure if Jisung even knows how popular going to a swim meet is, because when you ask him, he answers with: “I thought all sports got the same audience.” They don’t, that’s confirmed, unless the dance team was performing as well.

The bell rings a few moments later, finally signalling the end of the day with a deep sigh from you. You clean up as quickly as you can, bidding your new partner (and maybe friend) a goodbye to the rest of the day. As you yank out your phone from your bag, going out into the hallway towards your locker, you spot Chaeryoung from the corner of your eye, brushing past you dramatically with a whisper of:

“You’re whipped already.”

dear y/n love,

this is my second letter to you. hopefully, unless you didn’t receive the first one for some reason. but if this is the second one, hi! i hope you had a great day today and if you didn’t, i hope you feel better. i think you probably find this weird, the love letter sort of thing, it’s super cliche and everything so i’d get it if you decided to take this and, like, throw it out or something. but please don’t! please don’t throw it out, i’d be very upset. not that you’d know anyway, but :)

you’re also probably wondering, ‘why is this guy sending me stuff without telling me who he is?’ well, i’m glad to say that i have a purpose. it is, well, just to make you happy. life is hard, ya know, and i don’t think a lot of us would be able to get through everything without someone by their side. not that you don’t have anyone by your side! i’m sure you do, you have friends and family that support you as well, but since i unfortunately do not fall into either of those categories, i have to resort to written letters.

anyway, i’m ending this letter quickly considering my class is ending in hmm, like four minutes? i want to make enough time to get to your locker and give it to you, hopefully without you ever noticing, but if you did end up finding out who i am…just forget about that part. yeah, like my face and all? erase that memory from your pretty head. i’m so sorry, i just realized how much i just didn’t get to a point with this letter at all.

in a few days is the homecoming game, and i may or may not have a little surprise waiting for you there. if you’d like to come, that’s awesome, if not, that’s perfect as well. i know the last thing you’d do is trust someone you don’t know, and it might be a little hypocritical of me to say this, but trust me. in the least creepy way, i will say that yes, you do know me, maybe not as well as i know you. shitttt that sounds so creepy, i deeply apologize. i’m just your secret admirer, that’s it, not a stalker omg. now it sounds like i’m a stalker. okay, anyway.

please come to homecoming, i won’t reveal myself to you just yet (maybe not ever, but it depends) but i have something waiting for you. it’s NOT a death wish, cross my heart, for real.

signed, jay

[lostinfantasies38]

Fic Writer Meme

Name

Fandoms

Most popular oneshot

Most popular multichapter

Actual worst part of writing

How you choose your titles

Do you outline

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?

Callouts @ Me

Best writing traits

Spicy Tangential Opinion

Name: Jordie is what everyone calls me and my username on Tumblr and AO3 is Lostinfantasies38, so I’m easy to track down

Fandoms: Over the years there have been many fandoms I’ve held dear, but my recent work is in Dragon Age and Dear Evan Hansen. I have temporarily left DA for some fresh air in DEH and have been doing very well there. 

Most Popular Oneshot: I actually have a tie for this one and surprisingly, they are from separate fandoms. 

Permanent Ink from DA: Origins, featuring Alistair and my male Warden OC Zane Cousland is quite spicy and tender. If you like pining bi-Alistair and schmexy love interests, this one is for you. 

For You I Could Be was my very first DEH fic and it’s taken the fandom by storm, which still shocks the pants off me. It’s a deviation from canon and focuses on Evan and Connor realizing they have feelings for each other. Read the tags though since triggering content is mentioned. 

Most Popular Multichapter: I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing about Sun Touched and Find Me Well Within Your Grace, but they are tied yet again. Sun Touched is my Dwarven Warden novelization of DA: Origins with Sirra Brosca and Alistair. Find Me Well is a head-canon fueled prequel of DA featuring young Cullistair at the abbey.  

I won’t bore you all with the details, but I am very proud of both fics. I hope to come back and finish them once I’m the right head-space to devote the time to them that they deserve. 

Actual Worst Part of Writing: The plot and staying on target. I tend to get side tracked by character development at times and that can derail an entire story if I’m not careful. I’m also incredibly careful to not lose a character’s voice while trying to flesh out a whole new side of them in my work. It’s a delicate balance. I want to do them justice, so while playing with them in AUs is fun, I still want them to sound like “them” and not caricatures. 

How You Choose Your Titles: Through blood, sweat, and typically numerous tears and hair pulling sessions. I like my titles to reflect the story, but not sound too fucking cheesy, and sometimes that feels like an impossible task. I try to avoid using song lyrics personally, but I have done it once or twice in a pinch, I won’t lie.

Do you outline: FUCK NO. I have tried and I can’t stick to them. I’m also the type that once I write it out, even in an outline, I lose interest in that particular piece. I need the scenes to be fresh and literally banging on the door of my brain so they flow properly. Everything is fixed/cleaned up in editing, but if the emotion is missing in the initial draft it takes a monumental effort later to keep it from ringing hollow. Sometimes the drafts can’t be saved, period, after outlining and I’ve scraped entire stories/chapters because of it.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice: I have an entire folder of shelved DA stories in the wings that I’m not sure will ever see the light of day now. I’m hesitant to say “never,” but truthfully the more time passes the more likely that word becomes. 

They include: (1) a modern carta/cop AU ft. Sirra/Alistair, (2) part 2 and 3 planned continuations of Find Me Well following Alistair and Cullen through DAI, (3) Varric/Charise Trevelyan DAI story full of intrigue and the House of Repose, (4) world weary veteran Grey Warden Alistair/Rylie Trevelyan DAI, chock full of dashing heroics and a swooning damsel in distress, (5) Cullen/Eryka Cadash DAI with lots of tension/angst due to the Carta & Commander angle causing friction [interpret that how you will, lol!] (6) a modern color soulmate AU with a unique twist ft. Cullen/Alistair (7) a Siren!AU ft. Sirra/Alistair and a cutthroat island of traitorous bitches (8) and finishing my incomplete DA stories. As a bonus, (9) there is a football AU for DEH that I started during NaNo, but it may end up in the scrap pile, too. I’m still picking at it, but meh, we’ll see.

Callouts at Me: Guilt. 

Honestly, I know we do this for free and we have no obligation to write/complete these stories, but we all do it because we love it. Yet with each incomplete story, coupled with my rather abrupt departure from the DA fandom, my guilt has grown exponentially. 

However, I can’t allow it to hold me back and continue to eat away at my soul. It keeps me from being productive and having a hope and a prayer of finishing what I started. If this means that I play in a new fandom for a while, then so be it. I wish I had more familiar faces to follow me there, but I understand it’s not for everyone and I would never make demands. Though, that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my usual readers and the comments I looked forward to, but I have relocated and I have to accept that. Just know that I still love you all and miss the fuck out of you. 

Best Writing Traits: Emotionally evocative prose and creating realistically flawed characters are what I’m best at. My characters are not perfect, because who the fuck can relate to perfection? Who would want to? They are flawed, broken, dealing with a shit ton of trauma as best as they can, and generally bumbling through life. Yes, they may have a LI, but they are not “cured” by love. They are supported by an equally flawed person as they continue to stumble through life, though with fewer face plants than before because they have someone to (hopefully) catch them whenever they aren’t overwhelmed with their own crises. And making all the pain and growth as lyrical as possible is my favorite part.

Sometimes I nail dialogue, too, but more often than not that’s simply luck after hours of talking to myself and laughing/crying so hard I had to include it in a fic.

Spicy Tangential Opinion: Every single kudo, like, reblog, or comment is special. I know it’s easy to focus on the “quantity” of them - but each one represents a real person that one of my stories has emotionally resonated with. Every day we write and post we’re affecting real people behind our stats, which means we can treasure every single one. Talking about the numbers and engagement erases that fact, and I wish more people treasured every individual interaction for the meaningful gesture about their work it is. Each one is a little spark of ‘you are loved’ in the world. {Keeping this Manka because you summed it up beautifully! Bravo!}

Throwing this out into the world! Tag list below (authors only this time, sorry my lovely artist friends) but feel no obligation to do so! Also sorry if you already got tagged!

@kittimau @jennserr @jellysharkbat @fandomn00blr @bigfan-fanfic @blarfkey@darlingrutherford @herald-divine-hell @cassandra-pentughasst @c-e-c-r-o-p-i-a @river-of-asgard @giraffesanddietpepsi @pikapeppa @simper-fi

[maos2013]

Get to Know Me Tag!

I was tagged by @justanalto

Name/Nickname: Ashley, Ash

Gender: female

Star Sign: Virgo

Height: 5′6.5″ (I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again - the .5″ is important.)

Time: 6:55 PM

Birthday: September 15

Favorite Bands: Paramore, The Head and the Heart, Panic! At the Disco, The Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton (does this count? Idk, but I’m listing it anyway)

Favorite Solo Artists: Taylor Swift, Lizzo, and I’m sure there are more, but my brain is empty. 

Song Stuck In My Head: “happiness” by Taylor Swift

Last Movie: Holidate it was cute!! And I watched with friends, so even better!

Last Show: The 100. I am possibly a little obsessed.

When Did I Create This Blog: sometime in 2017? I think? Maybe late 2016? Idek.

What I Post: memes, fandom content, cute animals, whatever strikes my fancy.

Last Thing I Googled: samsung galaxy book comparisons (waiting on that stimulus check to hit my bank account so I can finally get a new computer lol)

Other blogs: @theofficialagentdavis though I don’t think any of us have been active on our RP accounts in a while. Could be wrong though.

Following: 1043. Um. Wow. Had no idea it was that many.

Followers: 348 of y’all really like my random assortment of content and ramblings huh? Alright. Maybe, I am doing something right then.

Average hours of sleep: ok, listen. The average makes me look pretty sane, ok? It is almost always either 4-5 or 10-12 with very little in between. Don’t come for me.

Lucky number: Is that a real thing? I dunno. 

Instruments: I played the trumpet very poorly in middle and high school. TBH, band got me out of working on Friday nights since I had to go to all the football games, sooo. Sit outside with my friends for a few hours each Friday or work at KFC/Taco Bell? The choice was easy for me.

What I Am Wearing: a pair of comfy shorts that I’ve owned for way too many years, and free t-shirt from my dentist’s office

Dream Job: stay-at-home dog-mom

Dream Trip: go to London/ Paris with my bestie. We’ve been trying to plan/ schedule this for almost 2 years and it hasn’t happened yet for a variety of reasons.

Favorite Food: Italian!! My dad is part Italian and when h cooks from scratch it is so good!!

Nationality: From the US. More specifically, I’m from the deep South, y’all. Don’t hold it against me. ;)

Favorite Song: depends on the day. But today, I listened to “champagne problems” and “happiness” by Taylor Swift on repeat while I was out and about running errands.

Last Book I Read: I think it was P.S. I Still Love You by Jenny Han. 

Top 3 Fictional Universes I’d Like To Live In: Probably His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman - I’ve always wondered what form my daemon would take. Then of course Harry Potter (but like @justanalto said, without the JKR bullshit.). And finally the Inheritance series by Christopher Paolini - I just want a dragon, ok? Don’t remind me that I’m afraid of heights, it’s fine.

tagging: @browneyedgenius @aleksandrachaev @sapphicsgaia @immhungry @queen-of-love-and-beauty @ussjellyfish or anyone else who might want to participate. :)

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fourteen

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language, NSFW Language

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Note: Apologies, this is a repost from yesterday for reasons I won’t go into now. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

Sarah jostled with the mail as she entered their building, trying hard not to knock over the newest fresh plant currently adorning the entrance. They usually took it in turns to handle the post and whatever parcels the Supervisor had signed for that day but she was starting to feel a little short-changed as Shanna had consistently more post coming her way these days. Sarah realised she needed to get out more. Carting everything up the stairs was starting to become its own workout. Today’s treasures involved two Nasty Gal packages, a package from Pottery Barn, a box from Amazon, and what appeared to be a free sample of a Louis Vuitton fragrance. Sarah might just keep that last one to herself.

Jocelyn had sent another care package of sorts her way but it only served to remind Sarah that she had not called her folks in over a week. Ever since the accident, Jocelyn had been so consumed with worry that she had taken to sending Sarah articles ripped form magazines and gift cards for relaxation therapies. Despite Sarah’s many protests to the contrary, Jocelyn was sure Sarah was struggling with some form of undiagnosed PTSD. She’d read about it in a magazine. “If affects upwards of half a million American every year, honey.”

After successfully dodging the neighbour’s schnauzer, she eventually reached their floor and was just about to turn her key in the lock when the door swung wide open. Before she had time to react, she was brought face to face with a stressed-out Shanna, hair dripping wet from a shower. Not her favourite Shanna it had to be said. Not even in the Top Ten.

She grabbed Sarah by both shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Sarah! I’ve got less than an hour!”

“And hello to you, too!” Sarah smiled broadly, almost comically so, before Shanna lowered her head in embarrassment and moved out of the way so Sarah could physically get into her own home. She held the packages up. “Maybe there is something in here?”

Shanna shook her head. “No, they’re more summery. More formal.” She’d started fluttering around Sarah in a panic. “Do you still have that leather midi skirt? Do you think I could fit into it?”

“Uhh yeh it’s in the back of my closet somewhere.” she remembered. “Might be a bit warm, though? What are you gonna wear with it?”

“Well it’s a punky kind of bar, think it has live music and stuff so I thought maybe that Rolling Stones t-shirt and the maroon boots? Keep my hair down and casual?”

“So basically all of my clothes?” Sarah retorted. Shanna pressed her hands together in prayer and gave her the best pitiful smile she could manage, one she knew Sarah couldn’t resist. Shanna seemed to genuinely like this guy and if this guy was as charming and as smart as she told her he was, Sarah was sure she would like him, too. Hell, he’d be best friends with Scott and Chris in no time so long as he enjoyed football, Sam Adams, and didn’t put points on Shanna’s licence.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll see what I can pull together. Do you wanna borrow that heart necklace of mine? If you’re wearing your hair down, it’s probably best you avoid wearing earrings unless you want me to cut you out of them again.” Sarah shouted as she walked into her room unaware that Shanna had followed her closely behind.

“Oh god I hadn’t even thought that far. You know what, I might just cancel. This is just too much right now and I’m not even sure if he really likes me as anything more than a friend.” She feigned a dramatic flop onto Sarah’s bed, one arm landing across her forehead. Sarah delved through her closet to locate the desired items. If Shanna was threatening to cancel the date already, it must be serious.

“How many of you are going to this club?” Sarah asked, emerging from the closet doorway.

“Don’t know. Think three or four from my department and another couple from his?” she responded, hopelessness evident in her voice. Shanna never did well with vagueness where guys were concerned; everything had to be black and white with her.

“Come on, you’ve still got time.” Sarah encouraged as she carried some clothes and a couple of pairs of boots towards the bed. “Dry your hair and we’ll figure this out, OK?”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Shanna pouted and Sarah tried to shrug off the pit growing in her stomach from her words. Shanna used every ounce of energy she could muster to get up and drag herself back into the bathroom leaving Sarah shaking her head.

It was only a rare occasion when Shanna took less time getting ready in the bathroom. Sarah had fond memories of shouting through the door back when they were at college and deciding to move in together required a complete 180 degree shift in her expectations. Still, in less than half an hour, here she emerged fully dressed, primer and foundation applied, and hair dried accordingly. It was a miracle of epic proportions and if she hadn’t shoved some false eyelashes into Sarah’s hand, Sarah would have snapped a photograph to send to the family as evidence that their little girl was growing up.

Thanks to her professional, steady hand, Sarah was always the eyelash-fixer among their group. While fixing a couple of lashes to the corners of her eyes, Sarah’s phone buzzed. It buzzed a couple more times in quick succession and she would have managed to ignore it had it not been for Shanna’a roving eye.

“Looks like someone wants you.” she murmured, trying her hardest not to move as Sarah held the glued lash in place with some tweezers.

“It’ll just be Audrey probably.” Sarah responded in no rush to check for herself, keeping a firm hold on what she was doing.

Shanna tried glancing to her side one more time to catch who it was but couldn’t quite make it out. It buzzed again. “I’d hate for you to miss out on a date with Greg on account of helping piece my pathetic love life together. Oooh maybe we could double-date!”

Shanna’s exclaim nearly caused Sarah to lose her grip on the tweezers but a sharp intake of breath convinced Shanna to give up the inquisition. “Sorry. Sorry.” she held her hands up as an apology before feeling Sarah’s hands relax as she moved across to the other eye.

Sarah was pleased to see Shanna eventually leave their apartment. Not because she wanted the peace particularly but just because it was nice to see her get excited over a guy that wasn’t Ben. She looked gorgeous, too. Sarah was quite proud of her work. If it wasn’t to be a proper date, it definitely would be after tonight. Robbie would be an absolute fool to miss out.

It was only when she slumped dow onto the couch and spent the next hour or so flicking through television channels that she remembered her phone had buzzed earlier on. She reluctantly peeled herself off the sofa and retrieved it from where it had originally landed on her bedside table. Honestly, it was like Shanna had taught her nothing.

From just two messages, Chris had attempted some mild flirtation with her before asking her if she knew what in God’s Name Penhaligon’s was.

Sarah 8.19pm: Perfume I think. Pretty old school brand. Why?

Chris 8.23pm: Mom wants it for her birthday. Never heard of it before. Scott thought it might be some kind of scarf??

She googled the name to make sure. Last thing she wanted was to end up ruining Lisa’s birthday celebrations with a present she absolutely did not want. Her birthday was something she took with increasing seriousness as each year passed by and her children and grandchildren grew older in front of her eyes. There was always a party of sorts, a massive cake, perhaps a theme, and a “suggestion list” for possible gifts. Well, they say “suggestion” but rarely did anyone dare deviate from “the list”. Sarah hadn’t yet considered buying a present but if Chris was already looking, she would no doubt need to catch up.

Sarah 8.34pm: Yep, pretty certain it’s a perfume. Pretty pricey. Good shout.

Sarah started scanning through her phone as another couple of messages caught her eye, some she had accidentally missed from earlier in the day. One from Audrey. One from Greg that she was not expecting.

Greg 7.02pm: Great news! 29th is set up. All you need to do is say the word! Don’t know how long I can hold the spot open so let me know as soon as you can. Have a great evening x

It took her a moment to register what he was talking about.

Chris 8.37pm: Cool THX What are you wearing??

Sarah stared down at the phone. She felt light-headed. There was far too much going on for this time of the day. She wiped at her forehead with her sweater sleeve and took a deep breath.

Sarah 8.41pm: You wouldn’t be interested lol

Chris 8.42pm: try me..........

He had a surprising habit these days of cheering her up.

Sarah 8.46pm: Nah I look a mess. Get out while you can.

Her phone started ringing almost as soon as she’d pressed ‘send’, Chris’ name flashing on her screen. She contemplated not answering now that her mood had taken a turn but she knew he would work out something was wrong and immediately dive over.

“Hey,” she answered, trying for a jovial tone but coming up just south of delirious.

“Hey you,” he smiled through the phone, happy to hear her voice. “In all the years I have known you, Bernette, not once would I describe you as looking like a mess.”

She laughed down the line. She made the right decision.

“...you are far too cute to ever be a mess. Do you know that? Like, I can already picture you with your sweats on, your hair tied up, soft skin...” he trailed off with a low sigh that she was sure was filthier than he intended it to be. “Man, that really does something to me.”

“You really know how to charm a girl. Have you figured this Penhaligon’s thing out yet? Was I right?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She laughed again. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not great with flirting over the phone. You should know that by now.”

“Then do it with me in person.” he proposed as if it was the easiest solution in the world. As if she wasn’t going to be distracted with thoughts of work and studies enough to not focus on him entirely. And he didn’t deserve to be second best.

It would have been all too easy to allow him to come over. Forget about overthinking things again. There truly was no one better at making her feel good about herself these days. Like, honest, through-the-bone good about herself, whatever that entailed. Goosebumps raised on her skin at the thought.

“I’m pretty whacked to be honest and...”

“What’s going on? Are you feeling alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Whatever he had been pottering about with in the background had stopped all of a sudden.

“Yes! Yeh, I’m fine. Just...I dunno, boring. Plus, it’s Friday night! You should be out with the guys or whatever. Shan said Scott is having issues with Zach again. Is he OK?”

He laughed at her second lame attempt to deflect. He knew something was going on and he knew she knew he wouldn’t give up easily.

“Is Shanna there?” he asked.

“No, she went out with some friends.”

“So why don’t you ask me to come over and I’ll make you feel better than fine?”

She was lucky she was sat down or that her legs were crossed underneath her as she lounged on the couch, her back against the arm rest. His tone was causing her to feel things she shouldn’t be focussing on. What must it feel like to always be confident of your effect on people?

“Do you wanna come over?” she asked, treading lightly, not entirely anxious should he decline.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He ended the call almost as abruptly as he had dialled it.

She remained where she sat for a moment, Greg’s text message still lighting up her screen. She wasn’t expecting for things to suddenly be so easy for her and it was strange how opening herself up to more possibilities could cause her to feel so immobile.

She would need to move at some point and as a helpless and as confused as she now felt, she knew it would look far too obvious to Chris if she bid to make herself up. She also didn’t really have the energy to do so. Lord, Chris really should have taken the out when he had the chance.

“Have I just walked into a teenage girl’s bedroom?” Chris asked, taking a look around as he entered the apartment not long afterwards. He clearly found the scene amusing although Sarah couldn’t under stand why. It was partly Shanna’s home after all. He should be used to girly mess. “What’s going on?”

“Shan has a date. I was helping her to get ready.” Sarah replied, humourously holding up the hairdryer like a trophy before dumping it back in her bedroom. “Sort of, actually. She doesn’t quite know if it’s a date date or a friend date.”

“I was told those didn’t exist.” Chris smirked, reaching for a bottle of water from her fridge.

“Well, she’s dressed up for one. Looks gorgeous.”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Chris, you don’t need to make any more effort, OK? You’re already in the apartment.”

“I think it bears repeating is all.”

He swallowed half the bottle of water before fixing her with a semi-quizzical stare. He tried to figure out what was going on as he watched her potter around the kitchen table, swiping something away into a cupboard, phone grasped in her hand. “What’s going on? You sounded weird on the phone and now you look like it as well.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” she answered far too quickly and tried to shrug it off but his body language told her he wasn’t buying it. She wasn’t sure what was bothering her more in this moment; him knowing her too well, or that he knew he knew her too well.

“OK, alright, well, it’s Friday night and I’m happy just hanging out and doing whatever but you can also talk to me as well. I’m not a monster.”

“It was her turn to look back at him, unsure of her next move or indeed his. she wondered if he was very likely regretting his decision to meet her now when twenty minutes in the opposite direction would take him to one of his favourite downtown dive bars. Instead, he rested against the side of the kitchen doorway, arms folded, a softness still present in his facial expressions. He seemed hesitant of what to say and she didn’t like the slight awkward air surrounding them. She didn’t want to venture into work-territory either.

“Do you want me to go, Sarah?”

She looked back up at him after a short spell spent staring down at her feet. “No. I don’t want you to leave. I’m just...there’s something...” she paused to re-evaluate her words. “You know what, it’s find. It’s nothing major. Of course I’m glad you’re here now.”

He pushed himself off from the counter and moved towards her, accepting of the greeting smile now covering her face, the bottle of water still in his grip. “Cool. Shall I follow your lead then, or...?”

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” she suggested, more casually than he would have liked. She didn’t know what to say to him now that all of her brain space was taken up with possibilities and wanting to call Audrey with the news. Chris hadn’t factored in watching a film but she seemed like she wanted a little peace and quiet and he had pretty much dived into the apartment as soon as she gave him the green light, eager as he was to see her without threat of Shanna walking in at any point.

“Movie sounds good.” He bobbed his head in agreement, content in their surroundings for now.

*

At some point towards the end of Searching, Chris quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Realising something was about to happen and not wanting to have to explain it to him after he returned, Sarah put the film on pause and headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She had held him at an arm’s length for most of the night, the couch seeming longer somehow, but was now feeling a slight chill despite the thick sweater reaching midway down her thighs. He would no doubt have been cosy to snuggle up to but she was still pondering Greg’s message and couldn’t concentrate on much else.

Her demeanour hadn’t gone unnoticed by Chris. A couple of times he caught the glare from her phone screen illuminating her face from below and wondered who had gotten her attention this evening. He stopped himself from making an obvious joke and was disappointed that she hadn’t noticed him glance across at her several times during the movie. He wasn’t much interested in watching it. Telling the truth, he’d seen it via a DVD screener Matt had sent him months earlier but she’d mentioned she was looking forward to watching it and in all honesty, he had figured they would curl up together and he would have still gotten something out of it.

“Chris? Do you want a cup of tea?” she hollered from the kitchen doorway. No response for what seemed to be a long, long minute. She switched the kettle off and began pouring him one anyway. She could always drink two if he didn’t want it.

“Chris?” she shouted again.

She walked into the lounge to place the cups down and clocked the bathroom door ajar and seemingly empty. Maybe he left without telling her. In all fairness, she wouldn’t have been surprised or annoyed. She’d barely given him a moment of attention for the last two hours.

She wandered slowly down the hallway first passing Shanna’s bedroom before reaching her own and finding him stretched out across the bottom of her bed. She giggled and leaned on the side of the doorway. He looked rather comfortable. A little too comfortable. Maybe he wanted some company?

“What are you up to, Evans?”

He tilted his head up to find her standing there. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice I was gone.” He leaned up further and rested on one arm to fully take sight of her. His eyes appeared a little dopey, a thing that always seemed to give away his nefarious intentions. From the angle he was now lying in, the size of his bicep looked ridiculous. It could not have been an accidental move and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t working for her.

“Are you bored? You can absolutely go if you have a better offer, I promise I won’t mind.” she offered by way of an apology but he stayed looking at her, not moving or responding to her offer. Being caught under his glare like this was unnerving to say the least. His hair looked a little messy from where he had been lying down yet he still made zero effort to move at all.

“I’m not bored.” He finally spoke, sincerity lacing his voice. “Are you? You seem distracted tonight.”

She didn’t know how to respond except to say he was right and to apologise again. She hadn’t figured out what to say to Greg yet so explaining her thought process to Chris wasn’t going to get her very far. It was times like this, when he was looking at her like that, that she wished she had the confidence to try and shut him up the old-fashioned way.

“Come here...” It was barely a whisper and she would have doubted he had spoken at all if it wasn’t for the hand he was now holding out towards her. He didn’t blink once.

She couldn’t refuse him and moved slowly to stand in the middle of his now-parted legs hanging off the end of the bed as he sat up. She watched as he closed his eyes when he felt her fingers smooth through his hair. There was something so calming about her touch, the deliberate graze of her nails sending little shocks down his spine. He wasn’t normally fussed by a woman playing with his hair even if occasionally he liked it when they pulled on it but something about her slow, tender touch was unlike anything he had felt before.

He moved his hands to the side of her thighs before pulling her legs down to either side of him. “I love looking at you from here.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist making sure she couldn’t get away from him.

She moved in to kiss him, softly at first before she felt his tongue glide along her bottom lip, a wordless request for her to open up. He paused for a second, taking her in while she caught her breath before kissing her deeper than before. She pulled his t-shirt up from the hem and he reached up over his back to grab it and whip it off in record time. Not one of his proudest moments, it caught on his watch as he tried and failed to fling it to the side of them and he made a mental note to try that move again when he felt her chuckle against the side of his neck. He didn’t much mind being a dork in front of her. She knew he wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be.

His hands found their way into her hair as he caressed the strands out of her face. He loved how silky it felt between his fingers and how faintly it smelled of coconut, her signature smell by now. Her hands gripped his wrists before slowly moving up his biceps and grasping at his shoulders while he pulled her down onto him to allow her to feel how hard he was becoming from her touch. He wanted to know she was only thinking about him. She felt him push up into her core and arousing her even more. His breaths were getting shorter while his hands moved down her sides in an attempt to hook into her leggings and drag them down and off her body. She moved a hand away from his shoulders to help him with his mission but a tapping sound soon broke her from her reverie.

“Wait.” she was still holding on to his arms to steady herself until things went quiet and his hands froze on her waist. Their breathing levelled out quickly and Chris threw her a confused look. “Do you hear something?”

“What?” He gasped. “No, nothing.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back down to kiss him hard. His hands firmly gripped her ass until she was putting pressure back where he wanted it. She quickly forgot what she was thinking about while he moved her slowly along his growing length. He moved one hand up her side, dragging her sweater up with it so his fingers could finally feel her skin underneath. Her hands were pushing down on his chest a bit harder and in a moment that took her by total surprised he quickly flipped them over so she was lying underneath him, completely encased by his strong forearms.

Kissing her was so easy he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it sooner. Her lips were soft, some of the softest her had ever touched. He figured she kissed like she wanted to be kissed, and he wanted to kiss her back like no boy had ever kissed her before. It was soft and hot and breathy and turning him on immensely. Neither was trying to win a battle but rather seeking and enjoying their closeness, the sharing of this one single sensation, outside world be damned.

The prospect of being uninterrupted was giving him all kinds of ideas. Her breathing was hot against his skin and he knew she was in the zone with him. They’d never particularly been slow and up until this point, he hadn’t much minded but he knew there was some part of her she was holding back and honestly, it was thrilling to him that he was determined to figure her out.

Pinning her underneath, one hand reached down and grazed the inside of her thigh. A little more pressure just over her clit caused her breath to hitch with a sudden squeak ever so slightly until they smiled back into their kiss, tongues massaging together. Honestly, he could carry on doing this for hours if he knew for sure there would definitely be another time they had this opportunity.

She opened her eyes to find him resting so close above her and evidently relishing the way she was lightly tickling the back of his neck with her fingers. Another languid kiss followed before he caught the side of her neck between his teeth and pushed himself against her core, her wetness increasingly apparent to him. She was growing accustomed to his need to tease her like this that she almost missed the scraping sound that had returned, only this time it was louder and sounded like it was coming from just down her hallway. She would have loved nothing more than to continue focussing on the hot breath now ghosting across her neck and shoulders but, panicking, she grudgingly pushed him off her.

“Fuck, what is that?”

Helpless and slightly dazed, all he could do was watch her get up from the bed to stand by the door. With an ear close to the gap, she listened out for another sound. Quieter than before, she swore she heard what sounded like shuffling followed by something being dropped on the ground.

Spying him about to protest, she shook her head. “Nope. Nope, that’s definitely something.” She proceeded to tiptoe out of her room and down the hall towards the kitchen, her bare feet treading ever so lightly and managing to dodge the one creaky floorboard. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find but felt a brief surge of confidence knowing the vision of Captain America might alarm whoever was attempting to break in to her home and presumably try to murder them both. He was 6 foot and built like a tank, he could absolutely save them both if push came to shove.

Of course, no one was there that she could immediately see. Maybe something had fallen off the wall instead, or perhaps had been knocked over by a strong breeze coming in via the open window in the lounge? Maybe she was hearing things after all or maybe it was a burglar but they got startled and ran away when they heard footsteps inside. Maybe it was just their neighbour moving around next door but it sounded a little too close for that. She resorted to the only thing she could think of in that moment and picked up a spatula just in case.

Chris was reluctantly putting his t-shirt back on when he followed quietly behind her, shaking his leg to relieve some of the tension in his boxers. Something banged again but this time she was sure it was coming from outside of her front door. He could now hear it as well but wasn’t entirely sure what she was hoping to accomplish with a plastic spatula in her hand.

She held her finger up to her lips to stop him from making any noise and peered through the peephole. She couldn’t see anything. Gingerly, she decided to open the door and jumped backwards when there, on the ground hunched up and leaning against the door frame, was a rathe intoxicated Shanna. Her bag had been emptied in a hurry like she’d been trying to locate her keys, and her coat was falling off her shoulders. She was half-asleep.

Chris snorted from somewhere close behind Sarah unable to contain himself, instantly familiar with the view in front of him. Sarah exhaled with some kind of relief that they were safe from a mass-murderer.

“I don’t believe it...” she spoken quietly.

“I do!” Chris could barely stop the laughter coming out now.

She and Chris moved to help her into the apartment, each grabbing her under one arm. Chris bared the majority of her weight while Sarah carried her bag and as a many contents as she could find. They managed to manoeuvre her into her bedroom where she promptly fell forward, head first, onto her bed,

“Fuckin’ waster,” he laughed heartily before Sarah punched his arm to stop him  from waking her. the room fell silent for a moment before the unmistakeable sound of Shan snoring took over. Chris closed the door behind them before following Sarah to the kitchen where she collected the remaining items that had fallen out of her bag. Picking up her phone, she checked for scratches.

“Well at least she didn’t lose it this time,” she held up the mobile to him but noticed he couldn’t stop grinning. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” he shook his head. “I just wish I’d taken a picture of her. Scott would have a heart attack. Always told her she couldn’t handle her drink!”

“i don’t know how you’d explain getting hold of a photo of her.”

“Oh yeh, good point.” he chuckled in reponse. They regarded each other for a moment, Chris clearly hopeful they could pick up from where they left off.

“I think you should go,” Sarah thought apologetically.

He paused before answering, expecting her to have been joking. “Why? She’s passed out on her bed. She’ll be asleep for hours. Do you have any idea how many times I have seen her like this?”

“Have you any idea how many times I have seen her like this? She’ll wake up in the middle of the night and get into bed with me and it’d be a lot easier to handle if I didn’t have to explain to her why her bother was also there.”

“Sarah, we could throw a rave and she wouldn’t wake up.”

He was making no effort to move, instead fixing her with a stare waiting for her to recognise how ridiculous she sounded. His hands pinched at his hips and he looked a foot taller than before

“Seriously, Chris, you’re just going to have to leave.”

He took a couple of steps towards her, bare feet padding along the hard, cold floor. “I haven’t see you all week.” He moaned, hands reaching out for her hoping the memory of where they had been would be enough to convince her he should stay.

“That’s not true. You saw me the other day.” It was a weak response. Even she knew that.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

She offered back nothing. She had no response. He was disappointed and equally as frustrated with his lack of a decent comeback. He should definitely stay. He should be rocking her world right this moment and whispering filthy things into her ear but instead, all he could do was stand there and shake his head in defeat. When he made eye contact with her again, she looked somehow smaller in some way and he found it hard to continue being frustrated with her. He understood what she was doing as much as he didn’t want to.

Resigned, he shuffled towards her and embraced her in a hug. She felt him semi-hard against her tummy, briefly doubting her choices. It stirred something exciting inside her to think she could make him feel that way and mentally chastised Shanna for cock-blocking her. She felt bad for kicking him out like this.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” she whispered.

He loosely pulled away from their hug and looked down at her. He playfully raised an eyebrow and looked down at her lips, still pink and swollen, before chastely planting a kiss on them.

“I am absolutely going to hold you to that.”

*

Shan finally made an appearance the following morning looking like death warmed up. She’d somehow managed to remove her clothes but had a pyjama top on backwards and her hair was sticking out in all directions. She had Sarah’s expert eyeliner and a false lash smudged down one cheek.

Sarah was eating breakfast and checking the news on her phone when she saw the creature from the black lagoon emerge into her kitchen. Stifling a laugh at the sorry sight standing before her, she felt a pang of sympathy seeing every step cause her pain. Shan just pouted at her before taking a seat at the kitchen table, resting her forehead in her hands while Sarah fixed her a glass of juice and some aspirin. She took it gratefully before groaning.

“Remind me never to do shots again.” she stressed. Sarah knew it wouldn’t last, not with that Boston blood coursing through her veins. “Was Chris here last night?”

Sarah froze, a sudden ring clouding her ears. “Erm, no, he wasn’t.” She turned to put her bowl in the sink and tried to hide any blushes. She didn’t know who felt more like shit in this exact moment.

“Oh I could have sworn I heard him is all.” Shan said, more to herself than to anyone else. “God, it’s good he wasn’t. He’d have a ball game seeing me in that state. How awful was I?”

“Not very,” Sarah lied again.

“How did I even get home?” she asked, trying to piece together the flashes of memories that kept racing through her mind.

“Um, I think your friends dropped you off in a taxi and you somehow managed to get up the stairs but then I guess you couldn’t find your keys...?” Shan managed a puzzled look. “You were slumped against the front door.” She refilled her glass with juice. “You’ve been in bed for, like, twelve hours.”

“Shit, we must have started early.”

“Well it happens to the best of us.” Sarah sat next to her and pushed a loose piece of hair out of her sweaty, red face. “Your hair looks OK! I don’t think there is anything stuck in it this time.”

Shanna laughed for the first time before her head panged in revenge.

“So? Did anything happen with Robbie?” Sarah asked, a cheeky grin crossing her face. By the look on Shanna’s face, the answer was a resounding “no” but it could very well have been the alcohol-induced hurricane currently running though her head.

“Well, it was a great night regardless. You’d love the bar. I think we ran into that guy, the porter from your hospital? Pat something? Did you know he plated in a band?”

“Um, no, not at all. Wow.” Sarah was trying to picture Patrick with an array of different instruments to see which suited him before remembering the awkward time he attempted to drum Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ with two scalpels. “Actually, he does seem the type. I’ll have to let Audrey know. She’ll love this.”

“He sounded pretty decent. It’s not just punk music or heavy rock. I think we should all go one night. Maybe as part of Mom’s birthday week.” Shanna perked up a little, proud of the idea that had materialised in her head against all odds. “It’s amazing what people can do when they put some effort in. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Where you might be now if you just took a chance.”

Following a night of heavy drinking, Sarah wasn’t expecting such an existential conversation at this point in the day. But it was a good point regardless. She grabbed her phone from the table and typed out a message to Greg.

“Yes. I’m in.”

*

[swanqiu]

A STUDY IN CHARACTER LAYERS.

——— slight mentions of: drugs, death

LAYER  001 :   THE  OUTSIDE.

NAME.   zhang qiu / “cho chang”.

EYE COLOR.   light brown.

HAIR STYLE / COLOR.  black, although more of a dark brown in most lights. she usually wears it down, if not in a neat bun at the office or a nice plait during matches.

HEIGHT.   5′3″

CLOTHING  STYLE.   black jeans! athletic shorts! small pieces of statement jewelry! turtlenecks! sleeveless tops with lacy straps! rayon blouses with 3/4 sleeves! tapered slim-fit pantsuits! shoes with some height that also pair with many different outfits! muggle hoodies supporting the local rugby and football teams! she “borrows” her partner’s tees and sweaters and casual wear, so lol add those to the list. she’s big on practicality and comfort over flair and height of fashion, but she does like keeping up with trends and coordinating her outfits to reflect that.

BEST  PHYSICAL  FEATURE.   her smile! it’s absolutely very cliche, but when she smiles and her nose does that crinkly thing and her eyes get all starry, it’s very unfair how powerful it is. alternatively, she also has a great ass, so there’s that.

LAYER  002 :   THE  INSIDE.

FEARS.   losing people she loves. having someone d*e during a healing procedure and her mind just shutting down during it.

GUILTY  PLEASURE.   parfaits! going for a late night fly! being on top!!!

BIGGEST  PET  PEEVE.   people who sneeze/cough without covering their mouth and nose. people in the magical community who somehow think muggles are “less developed” or “behind” without magic, when they’re the ones who haven’t even moved beyond printed news and radios to circulate current events and pop culture tbh.

AMBITIONS  FOR  THE  FUTURE.   to successfully campaign for a british seat at the international confederation of wizards (delegate timeline); to patent a line of at-home salves and develop at least one healing spell by the end of her residency (healer timeline); to just be the best mom and partner possible, honestly! (divorced verse)

LAYER  003 :   THOUGHTS.

FIRST  THOUGHTS  WAKING  UP.   huh. 6 AM already?

THINKS  ABOUT  MOST.   how other people are doing.

THINKS  ABOUT  BEFORE  BED.   any of the interactions she might have had that day.

WHAT  THEY  THINK  THEIR  BEST  QUALITY  IS.   her ability to depend on herself. her sociability. her commitment to fight for what’s right.

LAYER  004 :   WHAT’S  BETTER ?

SINGLE  OR  GROUP  DATES.   single (unless you’re harry potter and have to meet up with hermione later in the day). group dates are sometimes useful for gauging potential partners’ ability to crack on with her friends, though.

TO  BE  LOVED  OR  RESPECTED.   loved. respected. both?

BEAUTY  OR  BRAINS.   brains— for herself and for a potential partner. BUT i can’t lie, if we’re being really honest here, i’m absolutely tempted by the idea of cho being with a heart-of-gold jock whose sole purposes in life are to get gains, look good, and love cho. cho x himbo king is canon btw; the muggle she marries is a *checks notes* brickhouse rugby player who rescues animals on the side and doesn’t know the first thing about how getting sick works but will gladly and fondly listen to her explain everything from antibodies to the common cold to why wearing a mask helps.

DOGS  OR  CATS.   both.

LAYER  005 :   DO  THEY…

LIE.   not really, and never with bad intentions. as she gets older, she learns to use it more for self-preservation.

BELIEVE  IN  THEMSELVES.   yes.

BELIEVE  IN  LOVE.   yes. always.

WANT  SOMEONE.   no. in her divorced verse, the answer strays more toward yes.

LAYER  006 :   HAVE  THEY  EVER…

BEEN  ON  STAGE.   yes. ravenclaw common room parties are a whole event. terry boot may or may not have the negatives of the one time she sang karaoke to abba’s “dancing queen” on roger davies’s 17th birthday.

DONE  DRUGS.   yes. her muggle psychiatrist recommended medical mar*juana to cope with the very rare night terrors. she tried it for a little while, and it worked, but she ultimately prefers the calming potions made by healer pye. she used sleeping draughts for a little while after the war (who didn’t), but she hasn’t used them since.

GOTTEN  DRUNK.   lmao yes. me, ess the mun, cupping my hands around my mouth: baby girl’s a light weight, y’all!

CHANGED  WHO  THEY  WERE  TO  FIT  IN.   no. part of the reason we read about her experiencing ostracization at school (through harry’s pov) was because she didn’t waver in her defense of marietta and was quite open with her emotions (although she ended up having to repress a large part of her grief and anger anyway). she’s very firm about sticking to her resolutions and not bending who she is in order to do that. (that might get slightly lost in romantic relationships, though.) in her moved-to-the-muggle-world verse, she definitely changes her external habits and way of living to blend in, but it’s not so much a change of her character or her person.

LAYER  007 :   FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR.   beige. light purples. dark greens.

FAVORITE  ANIMAL.   swans.

FAVORITE  MOVIE.   the princess bride (1986). in the mood for love (2000). miss congeniality (2000). remember the titans (2000). 2000 was clearly a big year for her and movies.

FAVORITE  GAME.   lmao as if it would be anything other than quidditch! i’m not exactly sure how fans keep up with the sport if they’re not watching in-person, but when league cup season rolls around, the television is on, the radio is tuned, the newspaper articles about game highlights and star players are read, the plumpton tutshill jersey is ritualistically worn...

LAYER  008 :   SLEEP.

HEAVY  OR  LIGHT  SLEEPER.   light sleeper.

WHAT  SIDE  OF  THE  BED  DO  THEY  SLEEP  ON.   the right side— when she shares a bed with someone, it’s more comfortable for her to cuddle up to them if they’re on her left. in her divorced verse, she sleeps on whatever part of the bed the kids didn’t claim in the middle of the night.

WHAT  DO  THEY  WEAR  TO  BED.   old quidditch stuff— she has one or two ravenclaw scrimmage jerseys that are so old the house insignia’s already faded away. she also has endless tutshill tornadoes shirseys and tees that she’s worn and washed so often that the fabric’s become so soft now and is definitely susceptible to hem stitches unraveling. her favorite sleepwear combo is a pair of cotton boyshorts and to go braless under one of her oversized tutshill tees. comfortable— and as flattering and as easy access as possible, for those nights.

WEIRD  THINGS  THEY  DO  IN  THEIR  SLEEP.   she mumbles a lot sometimes.

LAYER  009 :   LOVE.

BIG  DECLARATIONS  OR  SMALL.   small, from her end, but she’s extremely appreciative (and only a little embarrassed) of big declarations toward her.

OPEN  OR  CLOSED  OFF.   open, although she wisely exercises caution with some people and thus becomes more closed off.

LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT  OR  SLOW  BURN.   slow burn! this is also me, ess, exposing myself for my love of a good slow burn.

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  OR  A  STRING.   a string, but maybe it leads to comfortably settling into that true love. she definitely doesn’t believe that there is only and exactly one love out there for each person. that myth is a terrible and disheartening way to go about life, frankly.

LAYER  010 :   FINISH  THE  SENTENCE.

I  LOVE.   "...that things do get better. my friends. the people i consider my family. my children (added for divorced verse).”

I  FEEL.   "...insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. content with where i am, usually. but mostly, i tend to feel everything, unfortunately all at once.”

I  HIDE.   “...the parts of my feelings that lead into anger.”

I  MISS.   "...the simpler days. hogwarts days, honestly.”

I  WISH.   "...i could have had more time. to do things. to be with people. to enjoy certain moments. sorry— a bit vague, huh?”

tagged by: @gramenviride​ ( 💕 )​ tagging: lol i’ve already tagged a lot of you in these dash games/character studies and likely blew up your notifications over the last week; this turned out pretty long and might use more brain power than usual, so i’m gonna go with a general call for anyone that sees this and wants to fill this out to please do it! and tag me if you do! 

[stonerbughead]

Maria watches friday night lights (#33)

I’m back, I’m back! So here’s what happened...I watched 5x10 on October 1, never edited my note about it, then ended up taking an inadvertent break from watching until now. Idk why, but i needed a break from like...watching tv i hadn’t seen before. Anyone else have that habit of watching things you’ve already seen when you’re going through an anxious period? Starting a new job in the same month as the 2020 presidential election fit the bill, and i wanted to really immerse myself in the final three episodes of this amazing show properly so i decided to wait until i was feeling it! Anyway to the like three people who enjoy my recaps, i hope you enjoy these last four recaps.

So without further ado, aforementioned Oct 1 recap, now edited and underneath the cut:

5x10 yoooo I have never been so amused by Buddy Garrity in my life + TIM so here we go:

TIM RIGGINS RETURNS?! Yay!!! (This is my reaction just from seeing him in the “previously on.”)

Eric’s getting recruited at a ~fancy~ restaurant! Oh shitttt

“That, right there, marks the end of the East Dillon Lions football program led by Coach Eric Taylor.” “...It’s a crate of oranges.” “Yeah, and it’s from the sunshine state. From Florida! And that can only mean one thing—year round sunshine and college funding.” Lmao alarmist Buddy is hilarious and actually not wrong here. Lol incredulous Levi: “you got all that from a crate of oranges?!”

#OperationGetTimOut!! Is Eric going to speak for him as a character witness?

I *knew* that phone call from Oklahoma Tech wasn’t gonna be good. Ohhhhh Vince you should’ve listened to Eric~~~

Oh shit everyone’s buzzing about “losing their kingmaker” and it’s playoff time! Love a good car radio scene. “So how was it honey, are we moving to Florida?” Lol

“Dad, maybe we should just talk to Coach. I need to be focused on this game on Friday night, getting my spot back.” Yes Vince stand up for yourself, take a break from those meetings! I am fearful of his dad’s true reaction tho.

“Expelling Epyck, that was a good start.” Omfg some of these teachers are too cruel! That is a severely traumatized child, ma’am!

“Impromptu speeches...” “Impromptu means not planned, Buddy.” “Okay, then promptu.” I’M LIVING for these Buddy and Levi interactions omg hilarious.

“A man can’t leave if you erect a statue in his honor.” “A plaque?” “You got money for that?!” I cannot omfgggg Levi and Buddy should take this show on the road!

Tami’s “Oh Levi you are too much.” That’s a nice way to say “fuck you” for making her take a personal day to go speak on a panel he TOLD her she’s speaking at? Smh this is why staff needs unions.

Lmao Buddy is being so extra with Eric, I can’t

...and enter Billy, here to ask Eric a favor...

“Tim Riggins? One of the best fullbacks in the great state of Texas? The boy my girl fell in love with? Yeah I’ll do that.” Damn Buddy has a crush on Tim Riggins too!! I get it dude same.

“I believe in loyalty, Billy. Sticking with your people, through good and bad.” SO EXTRA LMAO

“Hey coach you going to Florida?” “I was planning on going home and I suggest you do too, Tinker.” Ugh poor Eric having to deal with all of these rumors and the team being endlessly curious right before the playoffs!

Awww Tami’s excited about the Florida houses. “Three years with a two year option.” Damn. Aw the way that Eric looks at Tami and you know he wants to give her everything she wants 🥺

Omggg now Buddy is making the players talk up Eric Taylor 😂 his scheming truly kills me

Becky and Luke tossing a football, so precious!

Ah, there’s more to life than college football, Luke! “No one wants me.” “I want you.” Aww Becky.

Aw Billy is getting so frustrated trying to write his speech for Tim. “It sounds ridiculous.” “No it doesn’t. You’re a good brother.” Oh Mindy 🥺 fuck prisonssss he should not feel like his words have so much bearing on his brother’s literal freedom!

Yes to Vince going to Eric and agreeing to earn his way back! That’s the Vince we know and love!

I love Eric telling Tami about Tim’s parole hearing. “You going to do it?” “You bet i’m going to do it.” My heart! The way there’s no question about it 🥺

Andddd Vince’s dad predictably refuses to let up with the recruiters. But this time Vince is standing up to him!

Yesss Vince, walk away! Especially after his dad yelled at him like that; this is not your life, it’s Vince’s!

“Don’t whack her. Just a little love tap.” LMAO Luke, Tinker, Becky, and a pig. Luke is giving Tinker pageant advice for Tinker at a competition with the pig?? I can’t, that’s weirdly so cute. Becky clearly finds it cute.

Omg Tim in his all-white prison uniform I HATE THISSS

OMGGGG “I don’t want Billy to speak, he’s done enough damage.” Fuck this is gonna fuck Billy UP. But also fair...I mean, Billy DOES tend to be a fuck up?? Isn’t that how we got here?

Yessss Tami going off explaining that standardized testing isn’t the end all be all!!

“what would you have us do, meet with every kind in the state?” “Yes I would.” to a round of applause. GO OFF QUEEN TAMI TAYLOR

Yes Coach Taylor! Give us one of your epic speeches!

Poor Tim looks like he has a lot of self hatred sitting here listening to Eric talking about him 🥺

“I asked him to be an assistant coach because of his character off the field.” YES

lol Buddy Garrity getting up to speak even tho he’s not on the list 🤣

“He’s like family to me.” OH BUDDYYYY he’s coming through with a full time job for Tim when he comes out?????? Tim’s smile of relief.

“It’s time for you to let Tim Riggins come home.” YESSSSS

AW Tim sent Eric letters from prison?? My poor babe. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit more.” “I’m sorry I let you down.” “You didn’t and that’s not why I’m here.” IM EMOTIONAL

Holy shit Vince’s dad is STILL not letting up? “I’m your father. I know what’s right.” “that is enough! Get off his back!” “He needs a father, not an agent!” YES REGINA GO OFFFFF she finally snapped!

(It’s wild how Coach possibly leaving is being used in this fight in Vince’s family. Oh, Dillon!)

Oh shit Billy is yelling at both Becky and Mindy, clearly very affected by what Tim said at his parole hearing. “You did everything you could and that makes all the difference.” Aww Mindy, and Billy apologized! Too much stress for such a young family! Also unrelated but Mindy looks mad hot for the athletic banquet.

Awww I love getting to see the other teams stand up. Yeah cross country, yes girls volleyball!!!

Man, playing a sport in Texas that’s not football must suck, look at that insane applause for football vs. weak for everyone else

Buddy giving Gracie a lil t-shirt and saying, “clear eyes, full hearts...you know it?” And they’re all like “can’t...lose” and Gracie giggles! Ok that’s cute af

Omg the tension between Jess and Vince!! “Jess, I miss you. I miss you.” 🥺 aw yeah she blew him off for her brothers

Wow they made it to the playoffs for the first time in 25 years?? Well here comes Buddy’s All Hail Eric Taylor pageant. Lmao

Awww these heartfelt addresses from the team members on how much Eric Taylor has changed their lives??? Manipulative, Buddy, really. He knows what he’s doing.

Yesss Eric, give Tami that massage. See y’all, this is what being a good man looks like.

“It had the desired effect. It sure made you think twice about leaving Dillon.” “It’s a hell of an offer. I’d own that building. They have funding.” “Mmm and oranges. Don’t forget about oranges.” “Mmm that pool.” They wanna leave.

“You know what I want more than anything right now? I wanna bring these boys to state.” “I know you do.” “They deserve it.” “I know they do. But after you do that, this offer is something to think about. Because you deserve that.” Ugh I know I say it a lot but since we’re in the final four episodes now and I’m mostly talking into the void anyway — god, what a model of a wonderful and gentle and loving and communicative marriage! I am continually floored!

Becky with cowboy boots at Luke’s farm works. And ooh Luke’s mom said hi to her?? Progress!!

Aw they’re talking about how pretty they find Luke’s farm as he tries to imagine a future here in Dillon. “I have an amazing imagination. I see your next game, and you’re winning.” Awww Becky is such a cute girlfriend.

What a cute shot of Luke and Becky on the farm, “you ever think you could imagine living on a farm?” “Sure.” AWWW

Vince at Eric’s door on game day?!!! He’s asking Eric not to take the offer to Shane State when he’s supposed to already be at the field house!?!

“Having you as a coach is one of the best things to happen to me. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Either in jail or in a ditch somewhere.” Damn forget Buddy this shit is from the HEART

Eric tells him to get in the damn car and tells him he’s starting!! “You know what your problem is? You ask too many damn questions.”

AHHHHH TIM IS HOME! Showered in a flannel! My heart! He salutes Becky with a beer!

Aww Billy is so excited to have his brother home.

It seems uneasy in the home. Coming back from prison is hard.

And here they go, heading onto the bus with signs and cheers!

“I’ll tell you, this is an away game, but you look around here at the community tonight and the young players that I have playing for me, and the character they got—no matter where this community goes, that’s home.”

Damn Eric just announced he was planning to stay home in Dillon to the press. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” says Tami. “I love you.” and with the FNL theme song playing aghkliyb I’m not ready for the final three episodes ahhh!!!

[browneyedmissy]

Big Sister Blues

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x Tara Day

Summary: Zoey's reaction to baby Mendez-Day isn't what Tara hopes it would be. Companion piece to And Baby Makes Five.

Author's Note: I think I figured out tagging? Let me know if I missed you, I'm terrible at this lol.

"Zoey's not happy about this baby." Tara sighed at Thomas, placing a hand on her stomach. "She keeps on smiling at me and telling me she's excited but I know she's just saying what she thinks I want to hear."

It had been a week since they had told the girls about the baby. Luz had taken it upon herself to come up with possible names. There was an ongoing list on the fridge in Luz's scurried handwriting (that looked like her dad's) - the last of which had been Norbert after the dragon in Harry Potter.

Zoey was a little harder to read. She had given them a bright smile in response and hugged them both but she started getting quiet while Luz bounced around chatting about what they should get their future half-sibling.

"She and Luz were really excited to become stepsisters." Thomas frowned in thought. "I'm a little surprised Luz didn't have a whole blood oath ceremony but I'm not complaining."

"No, she always wanted someone to play with." Tara smiled as she thought about Zoey pretending to launch her toys into space. "I don't know, maybe while you take Luz to soccer, I'll take her out to go shopping."

He grew quiet for a moment, his face in contemplation. "She likes me, right? I know that she and I were good when I was her best friend's dad, but as her stepdad..."

"She adores you." Tara assured him, placing a hand on his cheek. "She loves that you started watching football with her."

Thomas nodded, taking the hand on his face and brushing the tops of her knuckles with his lips.

"I still can't believe you're my wife, Tara." He said in wonder, smiling at her ring finger. "I didn't think that this kind of happy would be possible for me."

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. There was always something soothing about Thomas for her, from the way she fit in his arms and the way he drew gentle circles on her back when they hugged.

They heard the sound of light footsteps coming down the stairs and they both turned to see Zoey at the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Hey Zoey." Tara greeted. "Luz has soccer practice at ten. I thought you and I might spend some time together."

"Okay."

She shot a worried look at Thomas over Zoey's head.

An hour later, they were strolling down the streets, aimlessly walking and Tara pointing things out to Zoey who gave a 'mmm' in response. She was feeling a little anxious at the lack of response from her daughter- she normally would open up to her about whatever was bothering her by now.

Now that she's older, it's getting a little harder, Tara thought wistfully. She knew Zoey though. Zoey needed time to process before she felt comfortable to express her feelings and thoughts.

A poster caught Tara's eye.

"Zoey, look! It's the unicorn cocoa! She said, pointing to their old coffee hangout. "Why don't we go have one for old times sake?"

Tara's heart sank at the hesitation on Zoey's face.

"Unless you don't want to..."

"N-No Mom, I want to go!" She said quickly.

They walked inside and ordered before taking the spot at a table. Tara looked around, noting that not much had changed from when they first moved there.

A lot had changed for their family though. From Tara and Thomas dating, getting married and expecting a child on top of the custody battle, there had been so many highs and lows of the year.

"Do you remember when we came here when you first started at Bernhardt?" Tara reminisced after their cocoa came. "You and Luz weren't friends yet and you were nervous about belonging there."

"Yeah, it feels like a long time ago. I remember you had met Thomas by then and you were blushing in the bookstore."

"I told Thomas that on our first date and he teased me endlessly."

"It's okay, he still blushes a lot, especially when you wear a pretty dress."

They both sat in silence for a moment and Tara thought about how to approach Zoey's aloofness. She had hoped that Zoey would be as excited as the day she found out Luz would be her sister but days had passed and she had only retreated more and more into her head.

"You haven't been yourself lately. How are you feeling about everything?"

"It's been a lot of change." Zoey admitted, looking down at her cocoa. "I love Thomas and Luz, but I miss you and me time and..."

She trailed off, forming the words in her head. Even though they didn't share DNA, Tara noted, there were habits she shared with her stepdad. Zoey had the same contemplative look before she brought up something she had been dwelling on in her head.

"Do you- will you love this baby more than me?" Zoey asked in a small voice. "I mean, this baby is with Thomas who you love and it's a baby you're excited about, as opposed to..."

The implication of her being unexpected and unwanted hung in the air and Tara reached out to take her daughter's hand.

"Being your mother has been the best thing in my life. I am so amazed at the person you are and I hope you know that."

"I do, but..."

"Zoey, you are my girl and I love you more than my heart can stand. It does not matter who your father is, or who this baby's father is. You and Luz are both my daughters and I will love the two of you as much as this baby."

"Do you promise?"

Tara thought about the first time Zoey had said those words to her. It was shortly after Guy had left them and she was starting kindergarten. Zoey had been a bundle of nerves, hiding behind her mom's legs.

She had uttered those words after Tara had reassured her that she would be back when school was over.

As if she was afraid Tara would dissappear too.

"The reason why I'm not nervous about this baby is that he or she will have the best big sisters in the world. And because you turned out more amazing than I could have ever imagined."

Zoey finished the rest of her drink and smiled at her mom.

"I guess it might be nice to have another sibling to play with. Babies are so little and squishy."

When they returned home later that afternoon, Luz and Zoey ran upstairs to brainstorm new names together, giggling all the way and Thomas slung an arm around Tara, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"You and Zoey have a good talk?"

"Yeah. She was afraid we might love this baby more than her because of who her father was." She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"These conversations are getting harder." He groaned, interlacing the fingers of his free hand with hers. "I'm glad that we have each other. We're better as a team."

She smiled up at him.

"The Mendez-Day family is going to be unstoppable."

-

Tag: @heauxplesslydevoted @hatescapsicum @cora-nova

[sirsapling]

MORE TAGGED POSTS

I got tagged in a bunch more things I didn't respond to fast enough, so UNDER THE CUT THEY GO. 

I have too many things to respond to, so I won't be tagging, but consider yourself tagged if you want to do any.

IT’S THE LITTLE THINGS

Tagged by the wonderful @bardingbeedle​

Pass the happy!🌻🌿 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!

Lying in warm blankets in an cold room. Bonus points for snow outside.

A fresh Buzz cut

Talking to @bardingbeedle​

Having long, passionate rambles about the Marvel Ultimates

Hashbrowns, bacon, maple syrup, maybe a pancake, and a sausage too.

Tagged by the chaotic @s-hylor​

top 3 cities you want to visit: Toronto, again. Colorado (I know its a state not a city I just want to visit ashes AND GET SNOW). And I would like to go back to Italy again. (I also want to visit, just, all of my fandom friends but I don't want to drop all their locations lol)

favorite marvel character: Ults!Steve Rogers and then Ults!Tony Stark. Not counting stony, Anthony the brain tumor, and not counting clones, Gregory Stark.

white chocolate - yay or nay?: Love it, love it, love it.

favourite board game: God Save The Queens- A board game about Bees I invented with 3 other people at University last year for a project.

how many countries have you been to: 10, I have been very luckily graced with the ability to travel to Europe with school a lot.

(Wales, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, America [Florida, Boston, New York], Spain, Portugal, Italy, and finally Canada.)

favorite thing to do on a rainy day: Anything indoors I might usually feel guilty about doing when its sunny. Tv or games particularly

favorite holiday: Christmas. I am a Christmas slut, call me festive sapling I LOVE Christmas.

pen or pencil: Pen. I once bought 7 in lisbon at the same time bc they were perfect and I didn't want to run out.

favourite kind of soup: Cupasoup Chicken noodle, I don't really like soups tbh, I like broths, and gravy type things I make too much of and eat like a soup (like golden Currys or korma sauces)

your typical order at a cafe or coffee shop: Caramel Frappucino or an iced Mocha. If I'm gonna pay a fuck tonne for coffee I'm gonna get a drinkable dessert.

favorite ride at an amusement park: Any slow rides that show you shit, like spaceship earth at EPCOT. I’m not really a speed dude.

the color of your sneakers: RED, red shoes are the shit folks, a good pair of red converse goes with everything.

favorite pbs show (or little kids show if you didn’t have pbs):  Uh I used to watch pokemon then winnie the pooh every single night. But little little kids show I used to watch a show called 64 zoo lane with my grandma so I have fond memories

Rules: name your favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by the wonderful @ashes0909​

Natasha Romanov - Marvel Cinematic Universe

Carol Danvers - Marvel 616

Janet Van Dyne - Marvel Ultimates

Izumi Curtis - Full Metal Alchemist

Martha Jones - Doctor Who

Garnet - Steven Universe (if she doesn't count bc, space rock, Connie)

Rosa Diaz - Brooklyn 99

Ann Perkins  - Parks and Rec

Princess Caroline - Bojack Horseman

Pam Poovey - Archer

LOOK I know there was a lot of cheating here, but I don't have non marvel fandoms really, and I have a hard time remembering a lot of the TV I enjoyed.

Rules: Share your top 10 AO3 additional tags. Tagged by the mysterious @nigmuff​

look I don't know if I have enough tags to make this a justified representation, but the ones shown are v much on brand.

Fanfic trope meme

I was tagged by the delightful @capnstars​ and @crownofstardustandbone​

slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or !!!secret dating!!! // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut AND fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it  // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or !!!!middle-aged romance!!! // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates  // sci-fi or magic au // body swap or genderbend  // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

Look guys, I’m boring. I like domestic 30-40 year olds in secret relationships. We knew this.

And now buckle the fuck down folks because I'm about to answer 50 questions about me no one is gonna stick around and read.

tagged by @bardingbeedle​ the only person who would put up with reading this much about me.

What is the colour of your hairbrush?

I have a buzz cut, I don't have a hair brush anymore.

Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm. I have been warmer than most people my whole life, and I often need to sleep with a fan on.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Working on a sketch for an MTH fill (update from the end of this: I have spent an hour doing this fuckin thing)

What is your favourite candy bar?

Bounty. My favourite candy is Reese’s Pieces but I like a bounty. Or like, and chocolate without fruit in it tbh.

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yes, one of my parents referees Championship Football here in the UK. I have been to a few of his games. I also went to the London 2012 Paralympic closing ceremony, if that counts.

What is the last thing you said out loud?

‘Oh, this will last me a few days’ I was talking to my mother about 1/2 a can of pringles, I was lying.

What is your favourite ice cream?

Vanilla. I am boring. But the best ice cream i’ve had was a cream/milk flavoured gelato in Florence, that shit slapped. I also like cheap strawberry ice cream when no one is trying to put strawberry bits in it.

What was the last thing you had to drink?

Dinner. A spinach, banana, summer fruits and coconut yoghurt smoothie (with extra raspberries). Its my nightly dinner to cheat more veg into my body.

Do you like your wallet?

Very much. It’s about 7-8 years old, it is faded to hell but it has spiderman and a pony ride stony pin

What was the last thing you ate?

See above smoothie comment, but if that doesn't count, a sugar free mint polo.

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Nope. I don't buy as many clothes as I want to, bc mens clothes in larger sizes are hard to find or expensive here.

The last sporting event you watched?

F1, I don't keep up but I watch a little with my dad every now and then.

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

BUTTER. They don't really have it here, and I don't go to movies much when in the states. But @festiveferret​ introduced me to it when we saw Ant-man and the Wasp, and much like poutine and Tim Hortons, I still crave it.

Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

My dad. 

Ever go camping?

Yes, I was a Scout. I have done enough camping to not want to do more, it was fun when I wasn't organising it.

Do you take vitamins?

Yes, but not as often as I should, and as much as my mother bothers me too.

Do you go to church every Sunday?

Nope, not even when I considered myself christian. I go only go to church for other peoples events, and I’m an agnostic now.

Do you have a tan?

I cannot tan. I just can't, I burn lobster red in 5 minutes outside without literal sun cream for BABIES

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

Chinese food, It was easily what taught me to like more foods also, I don't eat tomato so I can't have most pizza. I love a good garlic base/bechamel, but you can't really get that here easily (yes yes I could make my own but that ruins half the point of pizza)

Do you drink your soda with a straw?

I don't drink carbonated drinks, because its like drinking pain. The fuck is wrong with all of you.

What colour socks do you usually wear?

Various colours, but I consider red on the left, blue on the right, my lucky socks. No I don't know why, but I take all exams and interviews wearing them. It’s just a thing.

Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don't drive, but if I did, No. Theres a lot of questionable laws out there but Traffic laws aren't one of them.

What terrifies you?

Pfft, most things from spiders to rollercoasters. But more seriously, Being shouted at. Shout at me and I start hyperventilating, its a thing. Also not knowing if someone is mad at me. I’m not good at reading people,

Look to your left, what do you see?

The wallet shown earlier, and the sugar free polos mentioned after that.

What chore do you hate?

Vacuuming. It makes everything in my body hurt. I would rather clean toilets.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

@s-hylor​

What’s your favourite soda?

See above. I do not like your pain liquid. Apple juice for life.

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Either delivery or kiosk, I don't like talking to people where possible, I often need tweaks I don't want to have to remember to repeat.

Who’s the last person you talked to?

@downeyhills​

Favourite cut of beef?

I don't generally eat beef, lamb, or most red meats. I love crispy chilly beef, but as anyone can point out its bc your generally don't feel the texture of the beef.

Last song you listened to?

Everybody Wants to Rule the World | Tears for Fears | Pomplamoose

I’m on a Pomplamoose kick, and I also just love this song anyway.

Last book you read?

Understanding Comics (The invisible Art) - Scott McCloud

Favourite day of the week?

Friday nights. The weekend is ahead and @loraneldin​ and I take to wrangling our beloved usual suspects through another week of Ults Book Club.

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

I can barely say it forwards.

How do you like your coffee?

With milk and sugar, or ultimately, in a Caramel Frappuccino bc I'm a bitch like that.

Favourite pair of shoes?

I have walking boots that don't make my flat ass feet feel like they’re dying. OR my black and green crocs (Fight me, they’re useful).

The time you normally go to sleep?

9-10 is what I'm working on, but I fluctuate depending on if I'm working on something or not.

The time you normally get up?

5-6 If I have a choice in the matter, but often 7-8 if I didn't get to bed at the right time. I’m more about getting the right hours in for my diet than time specifically.

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunset is the prettiest, but I like to be awake to see the sun rise.

How many blankets on your bed?

One big thick comforter, because that's the uk standard, and I get too hot otherwise.

Describe your kitchen plates

Two types, big wide white ones with a navy blue rim. They are so large I never use them, and little Navy saucer plates I use a lot.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

I don't drink, so no. I drink apple juice or Shirley temples when I'm in pubs/bars

Do you play cards?

Sometimes, I like to teach people to play Old Maid. It’s the monopoly of card games.

What colour is your car?

Again, I do not drive. 

Can you change a tire?

I am aware I just said I don't have a car, but I do know how to change a tire. Everyone should go learn its pretty simple.

Favourite job you’ve ever had?

I have only had one job really and two job experience jobs. I did experience in a school library for a week and that was v fun and chill. I did all the jobs they had prepared for me in 2 days so I alphabetically reorganised their fiction section for the rest of the week. I LIKE ORDERING.

How did you get your biggest scar?

I no longer have a gallbladder, so I have 3 scars across my torso from that, the biggest right in the middle of my ribs. Non surgical wise I have matching scars on my knees from ripping holes in them when tripping. I have weak ankles and also I got both of those at different times.

What did you do today that made someone else happy?

I gave my spare animal crossing Iguanodon skull to a wicked artist I follow on twitter so he could complete his dino park. 

[stealing-jasons-job]

10 Questions Tag Game

Rules: Answer 10  15 questions, ask 10, and tag 10 people however many people your heart desires to answer them.

Tagged by the amazing @burninghoneyatdusk, @nakey-cats-take-bathsss, and @bookwormforalways, so you guys are getting 15 answers from me. 🥰

I apologize in advance for getting deep on main. lol 

1. Do you believe in soulmates/true love?

I don’t believe in soulmates, but I do believe in true love. 

Is there one person we’re fated to be with forever and ever? No, I don’t think so. As much as I love soulmate AUs and the idea of there being one person you know you’ll click with no matter what... I just don’t think it’s realistic. 

Instead, I think that there are lots of people you’re compatible with. And some people get lucky and meet a person they are compatible with at a time when both of them are ready to commit and build a life together. When that happens, you’re building a relationship and partnership that I believe turns into true love over time. 

2. What’s your happy place?

This is hard because I have a lot of happy places, but I think my number one happy place is my high school’s softball field. I’ve spent hundreds of hours on that field over my lifetime, and I miss it a lot now that I’m grown and moved away from home. Playing softball, being on the pitcher’s mound, was always where I just felt the most myself. I was 100% in my element, surrounded by some of my closest friends I’d known since I was 8 years old when we all played on the same tournament team. Worries about my body, all the bullshit with my dad, friend drama, boy drama, anxieties about the future... none of it could touch me when I was inside the fence of that field practicing or playing. 🥎

3. If you could befriend one fictional character (book/show/movie) who would it be and why?

Part of me wants to say Bellamy Blake because I would marry that man (sorry, Clarke). lol But I think realistically, I’m going to go with Olivia Pope because powerful friends are helpful and she’s a badass I’d like to have in my corner. 

4. Song lyrics that apply to your current mental state/state of your life rn: 

The song Lady Like by Ingrid Andress is my anthem rn. I relate to the entire song so much, but here’s the pre-chorus/chorus: 

“Controversial, so outspoken

I've been told I'm not ladylike

-

But I'm a lady, like whoa

I could bring you to your knees and

Get you kicked out the Garden of Eden

Untamable, unframeable, Mona Lisa, oh

Kiss you like a whiskey fire

Turn around, leave your heart in a riot

Lipstick in a cigarette pack on the dash

I'm a lady like that

I'm a lady like that”

5. What’s something that helps you stay positive even when things get hard?

Writing. It’s my passion, and I love crafting stories. It’s a way to escape — create a new world for me to live in or insert myself into a world I wish I could visit. But it’s also a good way to give myself perspective. My stress about work is smaller when I’m writing about characters trying to prevent the apocalypse. The current shit show that is... well, the whole world, is something I feel I can make a positive impact in when I’m writing about characters fighting a government conspiracy. 

6. What’s a memory you wish that you could go back in time to and relive?

This is so random, but one time in high school my group of friends did a big scavenger hunt. Each team made their own list of riddles for the other team to solve and then photograph within the city limits of our small town. After we got done, we went to our high school football field and broke into the press box to screw around with the PA system. Afterward, we just walked around for a while, laid down under the traffic light in the middle of the road (it was like 3 AM at this point on a backroad, so no cars).  It was such a wholesome night. lol Just 7 teenagers screwing around and having fun — not a single care in the world. I was in that weird, flirty stage with one of my guy friends. I had a softball game against our school rival coming up that I was excited for. Life was simple. I’d go back and relive that night in a heartbeat. 

7. If you could talk to your 13 year old self, what would you tell her/advice would you give her?

Being vulnerable isn’t the end of the world, and your worth is not conditional on your strength or usefulness. 

**Potenital TW** 

My dad was verbally and emotionally abusive my entire childhood (still is, I just am better equipped to handle it as an adult that doesn’t live in the same state). I grew up thinking that love was conditional and all vulnerabilities would be exploited for someone else’s gain. That any weakness shown would be used to hurt me. That makes it really hard for me to open up to people (for example, I would not be telling you guys this story if we were sitting in the same room rather than me typing it out on screen — and it’s still giving me anxiety to share), and it makes it really hard for me to form deep attachments and friendships since those typically hinge on sharing parts of yourself and being vulnerable with someone else. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have helped, but maybe if I could go back and tell myself during those formidable years that none of that is true... who knows how things could be different, how I could be different. 

Anyway, sorry about that sob story. Moving on. 

8. What’s your favorite quote of all time? Why?

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear.” ― Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Because this logic can be applied to almost everything: Confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity, but rather the understanding that you have worth despite them. Goodness isn’t the absence of badness or darkness, but rather the conscious decision to reject those impulses to be better. Love isn’t to see an absence of flaws or irritation, but to respect and appreciate someone in part because of them. 

Plus, Princess Diaries I and II remain two of my favorite movies, which is where I first heard this quote. 👑

9. What is the quality you value most in a friend?

Being genuine. As mentioned above, the trust and emotional intimacy issues are real with me. lol But if I know you are a genuine person who’s going to shoot me straight and be upfront about what you’re thinking, feeling, etc. then it’s easier for me to let you in. It may take time, but it’ll happen eventually. 

10. If the pandemic magically ended today, how would you spend tomorrow?

On a plane. To somewhere with new people, crowded spaces, restaurants galore. Hong Kong, maybe. Or Tokyo. 🏙️

11. If you could go back in time and live in any era & location, and face no danger, where would you choose?

Vikings. God, I would have thrived in a Nordic society. Women’s rights were paramount, being strong and tough as a woman was celebrated, sword fighting and archery and rowing were important skills, they lived in cold places (I like winter), there’s a possibility I could have trained a dragon. Like, I’d miss some modern technology, but I’d live. lol 

12. What heroine of a movie, book, tv show, story, or history do you relate to most?

Honestly? Clarke Griffin. Bossy + has zero chill + occasionally says somethign v sassy + afraid of being vulnerable + refusal to show any weakness + doesn’t talk about her feelings + in love with Bellamy Blake + rocks the black leather aesthetic + wants to save the world but makes questionable decisions to do so? ✅✅✅

13. Without saying who the person is, what is a question you wish you could ask someone but can’t?

What the actual fuck do you think are you doing? 

(I’d actually like to ask this to two people, and I bet all of you can guess the two people right away lololol) 

14. In one sentence, what are you personally struggling with right now? 

Figuring out where I fit into the world. 

15. What’s a book/article/story that brought you joy/comfort/healing that you wish others would read?

How to Walk Away by Katherine Center. 

It’s a beautiful book that taught me a lot about self-worth, throwing out your life playbook (because it never goes according to plan), and thriving where you’re planted rather than lamenting the fact that you aren’t in a different garden. 

12/10 recommend! (Her other books are also amazing.) 

So I know this has made the rounds, and that everyone I’m about to tag has probably already been tagged, but here goes:  @historyofbellarke | @bellamyfknblake | @angstybleuskies | @fightformidnightx​ | @talistheintrovert​ | @junebugninja​ | @mobi-on-a-mission​ | @queenemori​ | @sassybooks​ | @edgelessness​ | + Anyone else who wants to join! 

My questions for you...

(Stealing some from others because they were good!) 

1. What album/playlist do you listen to when you’re in need of some inspiration/motivation? 

2. If money wasn’t an object, what would you want to do with your life? 

3. What’s your happiest memory? 

4. What’s something that helps you stay positive even when things get hard? 

5. What’s a book/movie/tv show that you turn to when you’re feeling down and need comfort? 

6. Do you believe in soulmates? 

7. If you could be anywhere in the world tomorrow (pretending COVID-19 doesn’t exist), where would you be and why? 

8. How do you define success? 

9. What’s your favorite quote of all time, and why? 

10. If there’s anyone in the world you could spend the day with (fictional, historical, someone you know, anyone at all), who would it be and why?