#so glad i will never have to be 15 years old ever again

[anishenanigans]

[WIP] i have once again accidentally stayed up until 3 a.m working on art

[stabbingandorbeingstabbed]

i need to run away from home i need to move to a city and meet people who get it and i need to get my tits cut off for realsies this time like i've had enough actually. for the love of god

[bee-wg]

PROLOGUE:

Our family isn’t too big. Ever since my grandparents moved to their cottage by the lake, It's just been the three of us. I don't even bring my teammates or friends home. And all the peacefulness is about to change. 

“Ahh Shit- Sorry!” the fumbling buffoon said. 

“Language, sweetheart. David! Could you help him pick it up? I'm tidying up the kitchen,” My mom replied. 

“Coming!” My dad sprints down the stairs. 

“Oh, Pumpkin, you're all grown up! Are you prepared for the semester?” Dad gestured to the culinary tools scattered across the floor. 

“Yes, of course. Sorry about the mess,” he replied. The “Pumpkin” in question is my cousin, Theo. He's about to attend a college in the city to study culinary arts… or something. And, of course, he’s sharing the room with me. Not for long, though. I have a few buddies who have invited me to share a room with them. They reek, but it's a necessary evil. 

“Jay,” my dad asked, nudging me, “Remember when you guys used to play house together every summer?” 

“Yes, then he bit me and we never talked again,” I deadpanned. 

“Oh come on, he was just a kid,” Dad retorted. 

No, he wasn't. He was a little demon that stole my pretend credit card. My hand still itches thinking about that vicious attack. 

I put down Theo’s luggage and bit back the argument. “I'll go back to the car to see what’s left.” 

“Alright bud, thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He could probably thank me by asking what happened at football camp, but what do I know? It's not like we haven't talked about football the entire summer. We could be doing that right now, on the deck with some ice-cold beer. But the twinky little “Pumpkin” needs help, and I have the muscle for it. 

God, I wish the summer was over already.

***

“Hahahaha Exactly! I have never seen Chloé like that before.” Dad laughed.

“Right? Who knew mom had sass in her.”

Mom's competitiveness was kicked off by Theo's presence. The kitchen has basically been a war zone for the past two weeks.

Looking down at my watch, the light flashes on.

6 kilometres down, 5 more to go.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a good morning run with Dad like this one. The ocean breeze flowing past my hair and the faint rays of sunrise brought back some old memories. 

Regulating my breathing, we slowed down for a second.

“Damn, son - your stamina has gotten so much better this past year.”

“The football camp really made you put up 20 pounds of pure muscles too, I’m glad I recommended you there.” Dad beamed proudly at me.

“You’re not too bad yourself, for an aging old man.”

I still get the same rush every time he compliments me. It’s like a reassurance that I’m doing something right.

“Hahahaha, you won’t be saying that when you’re one foot in your 40s; it’s basically death by fossilization.”

Dad has always been modest with his body, but everyone who knows him either admires his body, wants him, or is jealous of him and I am the same. Ever since high school I’ve been inspired to be like him. Even with the 15 pounds of muscle I have over him, I’m still lacking in so many ways. He just has the confidence to own it.

“Want some water?”

“Oh, right, of course. Thanks.” I took over the ice-cold bottle.

“About that training camp, I should request the school board to have the team register next summer for the training course. High school kids these days don't care about sports as much no more.” Dad said

“Speaking of which, remember your friend Lancaster who got held back for two years?”

“Yeah, Avery. He used to scold me when I didn’t take the nutrition classes with him. Haven’t hung with him in a while though.”

“Well, he probably won’t scold anymore. The kid got too cocky after getting a full sports scholarship and gained 70 pounds of fat in the summer. The university probably revoked the funds. Hope he didn't take it too hard.”

“Shit, that’s awful. I didn’t expect it to be him out of anyone. He was a damn good receiver.”

We resumed the pace, avoiding some rogue cyclists on the way.

Crazy to think the weight could creep up on Avery Lancaster of all people. I should watch out for myself too. I have good genes from dad so it probably will never happen, but the new influx of delicious food from Theo and my mom’s little competition definitely doesn’t help. At least it keeps the brat out of my room.

“Dad, I think I’m not going to move in with Brad and the guys.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” 

“Well first of all, as much as I love them, the guys stinks. Second of all, Theo is not as much of a blood-sucking gremlin as he was before. And I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to you guys.”

“Plus, How can I leave when the thing with mom just got interesting.”

“Staying for the family drama, huh?” He chuckled.

“We’re happy to have you for as long as you want, Jay. Truth be told, your mom has been crying about it for weeks. We’re both not ready to say goodbye too.”

“Tell you what, Chloe and Theo probably have some fancy lasagnas waiting for us back home; let's cut through the forest and head back early to celebrate.” He said, practically drooling.

“Lasagnas for breakfast?”

“Wait, You just want the Lasagnas. Don’t you?”

“Hahaha, Maybe.”

“Well, don’t get too drawn in, or you’ll end up as Hansel in the candy house.” 

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

That would be funny to imagine though, cause Dad is anything but a glutton.

Chapter 1 ->

[divorceblogger]

I think the most difficult thing that armand struggles to come to terms with (re: his feelings about marius) is very much that marius seemingly steps into his life and performs actions that are, at a superficial glance, meant to be liberatory or empowering but are unequivocally very predatory if you start to dig into the meat of their relationship.

Marius rescues armand from starvation and sexual slavery at a point in his life when armand is actively entertaining thoughts of suicide. marius sweeps in, purchases him, and transfers him from abhorrent conditions of existence to a life of material comfort, although it’s not really a safe one, but at this point armand doesn’t necessarily have the ability to have a critical dialogue about safety with himself because he’s so glad to be rescued from slavery that he ascribes divinity to marius. he also receives an allowance and he’s taught swordplay. he’s taught swordplay. but what kind of harm could a child ever cause to a 1500 year old vampire?

And the material reality is that marius is not really interested in empowering armand at all. he actively fosters an unhealthy codependency between them, he withholds information about his nature, he performs sexual acts on him even when armand doesn’t necessarily comprehend that these acts are sexual in nature. he also strategises methods that he reasons are supposed to sexually liberate armand but these instances just contribute to the overall conversation on how he grooms him. armand is 15 years old when marius sends him out to brothels “to learn how to couple properly”. do you remember that he was supposed to be forced into prostitution. marius now offers him the illusion of sexual power by allowing him to experience sexual pleasure instead of offering it to predatory customers instead. but armand also says that he doesn’t enjoy the experiences at the brothels because he craves sexual relations with marius solely, to a point where he feels resentful about being asked to participate in these acts even when he derives sexual pleasure from them. he endures the experiences because his master gives him no other choice, but it’s also in these brothels that he discovers that sex doesn’t have to be associated with pain as it often tends to be with marius.

When he returns ‘home’ from the brothels he’s perceptive enough to understand that marius really sent him to receive a sexual education on marius’s behalf and attempts to replicate these acts on him. he unconsciously takes up the role of a sex worker, but again he’s a child, and it’s horrifying that he thinks he’s harassing marius by initiating sexual relations with him. it’s also not very surprising that when he does display sexual interest in other people marius emotionally shuts him off (because these experiences were never instituted with armand’s interest in mind) and these moments shape up to be very harrowing experiences for armand - he’s been taught to crave marius’s affection and never do anything that might displease him. armand often has to beg his way back into marius’s good graces and allow himself to be subjected to corporal punishment to achieve this. it’s terrifying that one of the first ideas the boys in the villa convey to armand despite the language barrier is that their master will never hurt him.

And the alarming fact about armand’s transformation is that vampirism serves to just further reinforce this abuse, even though, once again, it might seem like an empowering act. his newly acquired powers don’t change his reality - he’s still under marius’s control the whole time. he’s also further isolated from boys his age who share his interests, and his nights with marius are insular and suffocating. the corporal punishments continue. they’re now adjusted to account for his vampirism. “usual brain jarring blow” is a term floated in the book. marius calls armand’s coffin a “crib”. he very seriously asks armand if he’s ever been cruel to him soon after he transforms him. armand’s codependency with marius is in fact further reinforced by the vampiric transformation that marius carries out. so much of armand’s initiation into vampirsm is once again rooted in sexual instruction, once again evoking patterns of behaviour that are associated with grooming. it’s very in-character for marius to teach him the fundamental principles of seducing his victims before killing them. he also advices him to develop emotionally frigid relationships and never reveal his true self to the people he cares for, further establishing marius as the most significant figure in his life, as the person he constructs his entire identity around. how was he ever supposed to turn out well-adjusted?

[robintherobiner]

i know the fandom likes to make Jack out to be a terrible dad but i personally enjoy to imagine him as a man who's just not that smart, but tries his best.

Tim, like six years old, angry that he wasn't allowed desert before dinner: I hate you! I wish lived on my own and never saw you or Mommy again!

Jack, tearing up and booking flight tickets: Okay kiddo, love you.

Janet, giving birth: AAAAARGH. LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME, YOU COWARDLY BITCH. YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTS A BABY SO BAD, YOU SHOULD BE GIVING BIRTH!

Jack, tearing up and booking gender reassignment surgery: Okay darling, love you.

Nurse, glancing at his phone: You.. you know that surgery wont make you able to carry a child right?

Jack: Yes it will, it gives me a vagina!

Nurse: ...you know you need a uterus to actually carry the baby right?

Jack: What the fuck is a uterus? WAIT I CAN SEE THE BABYS HEAD OH MY GOSH JANET DEAR YOU'RE DOING SO WELL!

Tim, age 15: Dad, i'm glad you're trying to be better now but... Why did you and mom neglect me for so long?

Jack: You told us too! I wanted to raise you, i was a stay at home dad, but you said i was horrible and that you wanted to live on your own!

Tim: ...

Jack: Obviously that was irresponsible so we sent you to boarding school, but we only visited a few times a year to respect your boundaries. I would send you back, but I was in a coma so i'm allowed to be a little selfish and spend time with my baby.

Dick: Didn't your dad just wake up from a coma? And he's already got a girlfriend? No offense but-

Tim: My mom told him to.

Dick: Timmy, sometimes men lie-

Tim: No, literally, it was in her will. She literally told him that if she died first, he had to get a new partner, because she knew he'd die alone without her.

Dick: What...

Tim: Also, i was the one who chose Dana. She's great! Mom said I had to pick a blonde because yellow is his favourite colour.

Tim: Dad, why is the only picture of Mom you have framed one of her in a bikini? Do you not have any others?

Jack: I do, i have hundreds! But this was taken on the day she proposed to me! Well, i have more from that day, but they're not safe for little eyes.

Tim: Thats both the most romantic and disgusting thing i've ever heard.

Jack, puling out a picture of Janet sobbing and very obviously screaming: I have this picture of her on my bedside table though, its from when she found out she was pregnant with you! Two of the best days of my life!

[raapija]

hi! as a prompt for pookie au (which i love), how do you think carlos would react to finding out his dad is dating LANCE of all people? would he be immediately freaking out or would he hold it in and rant to charles about it later?

Thank you for the prompt. <3

(Carlos and Charles hadn't yet met, as this is set in 2018.)

summary: Lance talks with Carlos for the first time after Lance and Fernando told him they were dating. Also some strollonso fluff to balance it out.

warnings: some swearing, Carlos being extremely mean to Lance

Lance fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He could feel his ears burning as Carlos stared at him from the other side of the patio table. The cool evening air made his skin tingle.

"Why?" he heard Carlos ask after what had felt like 15 minutes of silence. Lance had sat down with him after having dinner with Fernando. It was the first time they told Carlos that they were together. Lando or Oscar probably would've blurted it out at some point, but it was definitely easier to tell him like this.

"What?" Lance asked for him to clarify what exactly he meant by 'why?.' He couldn't really look at Carlos, because he knew he was staring daggers back at him. They had been racing together for years, but had never really became friends or spent time together. Carlos was also a couple years older than him and had always been kind of intimidating to Lance. Something about those dark brown eyes.

"Why my dad? Of all people, why him?" Carlos continued his questioning. Now Lance looked at him and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the expression on Carlos' face. Contempt.

"I love him."

Carlos scoffed and Lance felt something inside him shift. He straightened in his seat and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to give in.

"Listen," he started. "I really do like him. I know it's fucking weird that he's older and you're older than me, but so what? We like each other. It's not just some fling. He's done a lot for me and I for him. I love him."

Carlos studied him from across the table. The longer he didn't say anything, the faster Lance's heart beat. Adrenaline rushing in his veins as if he was on a race track, trying to overtake him at a high-speed corner. In the end, it was Carlos who averted his eyes to look away.

"If you break his heart, I'll kill you." Carlos said and Lance breathed out. His face was serious. "I've seen what it's like for him, and I don't want to see that again, ever. So don't you dare."

"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lance said and Carlos' eyes moved back to focus on him.

"You promise?" he chuckled, now sounding condescending. "That's what the last guy said as well. And then he left him."

Lance's heart was about to burst out of his chest. Maybe he couldn't overtake in the corner and instead would crash into the wall.

"My dad gave everything to me. He gave me a chance when no one else would. He doesn't deserve you. He's got all he needs in me and my brothers. He loves us. Not you. " Carlos said, his words cutting right through Lance like little knives. It made his throat turn dry. "You understand?"

"I do." Lance got out. Carlos' chair dragged painfully on the tile flooring of the patio when he stood up to leave. As he walked past Lance, he gave him a strong pat on the shoulder and made Lance flinch. Crashed, in the wall. Game over.

"I'll be watching you." Carlos said and then stepped back into the house, leaving him alone. Lance breathed out and a flood of emotions ran through him as he relaxed. He was 20. Just barely got into F1 and immediately started dating a 37 year-old with three grown kids. This really did sound like some sort of a breakdown if you looked at it from the outside. Still, he was glad the only person at his throat was Carlos and not the media. Only a few people knew, and that was for the best. He had enough on his plate as a 'pay-driver'.

¬

Later that night, Lance was laying in bed, deep under the covers and waiting for Fernando to join him. He had been in this bed countless times before, but the idea of Carlos lurking somewhere in the same house made him uneasy.

He could finally hear Fernando's familiar footsteps climbing up the staircase to the second floor where the bedroom was. As soon as he stepped into the room, Lance's mind stopped racing.

"You okay?" the Spaniard asked as he sat down on the other side of the bed from Lance. He must've sensed Lance's anxiety all the way from downstairs.

"Yeah. Talked to Carlos." Lance said and turned onto his side so he could see Fernando better. The older man laid his watch and jewelry from his wrists on the bedside table and the slid under the covers. They were both facing each other and Lance scooted a little closed so Fernando could wrap an arm around him.

"How it go? Not too scary, I hope." Fernando's voice was soothing and Lance settled against his chest, warm skin touching his forehead. He felt Fernando press little kisses into his hair on the top of his head.

"He only threatened to kill me, so not that bad." Lance said and Fernando laughed. Him laughing made it feel a bit better, like he wasn't actually going to get beat up if he made one mistake.

"That's my Carlito." Fernando hummed and squeezed Lance a little closer to him, slowly running his hand up and down his back. "Don't worry about him. He likes to pretend he's tougher than he is."

"He told me someone broke your heart before so he didn't want me to repeat that." Lance said and Fernando's hand stopped moving.

Lance heard a quiet 'oh...' and wriggled back a bit to look at him. Fernando's eyes were sad. Lance didn't like that.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no." Fernando hurried to stop him from apologizing. He moved his hand up and set it on Lance's cheek. "That's nothing. History. I got you now, so it's okay."

"Yeah?" Lance asked and Fernando gently tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. The Spaniard smiled at him, his eyes back to normal and happy. The things Carlos had said still irked at the back of Lance's brain, but he didn't press on it.

"You fix me." Fernando said and moved in to kiss Lance on the forehead. He then pulled him close again and held his arm tight around him. "I talk with Carlito tomorrow. Tell him to be nice to you."

Lance hummed and could already feel himself falling asleep. It felt so safe with Fernando. Strong arms holding onto him and his warmth transferring into him. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

[tobysbliss]

like old times

lee!blitzø, ler!fizzarolli :)

i love them so much i am so glad theyre friends again actually. theyre besties and i love them. this was not proof read so if theres mistakes then OOPS !! (haha u get the reference ? get it ?? cause. cause oops is a helluva boss episode. and its the one where fizz and blitzø made up. haha. yeah)

this fic is intended to be viewed as platonic.

N$FW BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST OR MY BLOG!

Blitzø would never admit it aloud, but he couldn’t be happier that him and Fizzarolli are friends again. It felt like a piece of him had gone missing, then found it’s way back to him.

Blitzø decided to have him and the I.M.P team take a day off, allowing them to do as they please for entertainment that day. And for Blitzø, that meant inviting Fizzarolli over.

The jester admittedly was confused, but honestly, so was Blitzø. How was he even supposed to word that message? “Hey, wanna hangout?” It sounded odd to him, at least since it had been, what, 15 years?

Or maybe he was just really, really socially awkward.

He settled for calling Fizz and, very awkwardly, inviting him over with strings of words that just barely made sense; Something Fizz fully intended on teasing Blitzø for later.

.

.

.

Fizz barged into the door of the I.M.P headquarters, making a strong entrance as always. Blitzø nearly flipped out of his chair.

“You invited me to where you work, really?” Fizz looked around as if unimpressed. “Do you ever leave this place?”

Blitzø blinked. He does, but he lives in a raggedy old apartment, shared with Loona. He invited Fizz over to the I.M.P Headquarters both because he was embarrassed about the apartment, and he didn’t want to disturb Loona.

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I just wanted to catch up since it’s been, what, fifteen years now? And the last time we did get to talk about life, we were dealing with a bunch of psycho’s trying to kill us..”

“Oh, so you can explain your reasoning here, but not on the phone, huh?” Fizz smirked, earning an eye-roll from Blitzø.

“Hey, if you came to be a dick, the door’s right behind you,” Blitzø crossed his arms. Fizz only walked further into the room, adjusting the sleeves of his light-pink top as he did so.

The jester moved to circle Blitzø for a moment, “Nope. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me today, Blitzo.”

“The ‘o’ is silent, clown! Do I have to drill a paper with it in writing through your ears in order to get it through your head?” He flicked Fizz's forehead, though the action and his tone showed that he wasn't actually upset. Usually, he would be, but things were different nowadays; He couldn’t find himself to be genuinely upset with the jester.

Fizz laughed. "Nah, I just like messing with you." He bent forward a little to be on Blitzø’s level, only teasing him further. Blitzø poked Fizz in the chest.

"Thin ice, buddy. Thin. Ice." He glared, making direct eye contact with the jester. Fizz only smiled.

"Guess I'll have to tread carefully, huh?" He gently pried Blitzø’s finger away from him.

Blitzø crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe a harmless little joke to get back at Fizz, but what?

Scare him.

Blitzø and Fizz spent about fifteen minutes discussing life, AKA Blitzø was prying into Fizz’s personal life about him and Asmodeus. Then Blitzø spoke.

“I need to grab something from the company van outside, give me a few minutes.” Then he got up and left. Fizz raised an eyebrow as he watched the shorter imp leave.

It was only partially a lie, given what he ‘needed’ wasn’t actually important. However, it was necessary for his little scheme to get back at Fizz.

Once the door to his office was closed, Blitzø ran out of the building to his company’s van. When he got to the vehicle, he started to dig through the mess of trash on the floors and seats. He mumbled something about needing to clean it, or get Moxxie to do it.

Then he grabbed it.

An airhorn.

Fizz had mentioned using an airhorn to startle Asmodeus awake, why not use the same to scare the jester? A taste of his own medicine.. sort of.

Once Blitzø had the airhorn, he ran back into the building. He looked through the window to see inside his office, Fizz wasn’t facing the door. Perfect. He made sure to shake the airhorn before entering.

He opened the door slowly and carefully, making sure to shut it the same way. You couldn’t even hear the click. He tip-toed over to Fizz, then blared the airhorn right behind hip.

Fizz fell out of his seat, and Blitzø fell right next to him, except it was because he was laughing so hard. The jester had fallen out of surprise.

“What the fuck!?” Fizz couldn’t help but crack a smile; He couldn’t be mad, he did the same to Ozzie almost every day. He mumbled, “oh, you son of a bitch..”

Blitzø was too caught up in his own laughter to notice how Fizz had stanced himself.

And then he pounced.

The squeal that came from Blitzø was one Fizz would never, ever forget.

“You think that’s funny, do you? Huh? Fine then, I’ll give you something to laugh about!” The jester exclaimed as he immediately dug his fingers into Blitzø’s sides. The imp immediately started to kick and thrash, loud laughter emitting from him against his own will.

“FIHIHIZZ! Fuck, not THIHIS!” Blitzø grabbed onto Fizz’s robotic hands, but it didn’t do much to stop the jester as he just continued to scribble his fingers along Blitzø’s torso, the killer laughing helplessly beneath him.

“Ah, just like old times, right Blitzø? You’re still so insanely ticklish!” Fizz chimed, switching to vibrate his fingers along Blitzø’s ribs. “This will never get old. Ever.”

Memories of Blitzø’s childhood with Fizz flooded his mind; They almost always had tickle fights in the free time they had growing up. They both loved it, and they were honestly pretty open about liking it to each other.

Only to each other.

“Y’know, I remember you always seemed to love it whenever I’d go riiiiight here..” Fizz trailed his fingers down to Blitzø’s stomach, eliciting high pitched giggles from the shorter imp.

“Fihihihizz!” Blitzø whined, and Fizz couldn’t help but tease further.

“N’aww, still your soft spot, huh? Tickletickletickle!” He briskly scritched and clawed at the skin, simultaneously keeping the touches gentle just to worsen the sensations for Blitzø.

It was then Fizz noticed a soft sound, something hitting the floor. He glanced to the side to see Blitzø’s tail wagging, and he had to pause for a moment to compose himself.

“Aww, Blitzø! You’re tail still wags when I do this!? Fuck, you’re making me regret hating you for fifteen years,” Fizz joked. He moved his hands down a little and drilled his thumbs into the space right above Blitzø’s hip bones, relishing in the shriek that came from the shorter imp.

“FIHIHIZZ!” Blitzø’s hands latched onto Fizz’s wrists, and he started to thrash under the jester.

“Still a bad spot, huh? Guess you’re not so different compared to when we were kids!” Fizz grinned.

Soon, Fizz stopped tormenting Blitzø and sat beside him as he composed himself. It was pretty adorable.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Blitzø huffed, glaring at Fizz with faux annoyance.

“You know you love it~” Fizz teased, delivering a few pokes to Blitzø’s sides before backing off again. He couldn’t help himself.

They both sat on the floor for the rest of the day, talking about whatever came to mind or messing with each other.

They both really did miss times like these, they missed each other, and both couldn’t be happier that they’d be able to experience it again.

[diazheartsbuckley]

🚨🚨 🎓 🎓

Hiya Purple 💕

Here is 🚨

🎓 (High school sweethearts AU)

Accidentally switched this around, it’s supposed to be 🏫 (which can be found here)

Buck wanted to nothing more than to pull Eddie into his embrace, hold him close and never let him go again. 15 years of loving someone from a distance was more than enough. But when Shannon introduced herself to him, he smiled kindly at her, a smile that never quite reached his eyes and he felt his heart being ripped open and torn into a million new pieces.

And as soon as Shannon had introduced herself, Buck felt so goddamn out of place and even downright stupid for believing that he and Eddie could ever have a shot at love again. It didn’t help that she was dominating the conversation for a few minutes until she slipped away again, leaving Buck and Eddie alone again, standing a mere two feet apart but still it felt like they were a world away from each other.

“She seems nice” Buck said as he glanced in Shannon’s direction, watching her tug a dark brown curl behind her ear as she spoke to someone that Buck recognized from his and Eddie’s history class.

Eddie rubbed his neck, shifting his weight as he stood in front of Buck and he exhaled deeply. “She is, she’s a good person, she’s a good mom” Eddie explained like it was the most logical thing in the world to him.

“Right” Buck had to fight every fiber of his being to not roll his eyes to the back of his head. Not because he didn’t believe that Shannon wasn’t a good person or a good mom. But because he hated seeing Eddie with a woman. Because he hated seeing Eddie with someone else period. “Well, this has been fun. I need a drink” Buck added, without letting Eddie get a word in as he walked past him, letting their shoulders brush together and suddenly he was 17 years old again, fighting to keep his hands off of Eddie in public, fighting every urge to not cup his stupidly perfect face and kiss him silly in front of everyone.

He pushed those thoughts away as he made his way to the bar and he leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get the bartenders attention, thinking that he was alone. Or at least out of sight from Eddie. He couldn’t do this. Not sober at least.

“You kept it” Eddie’s voice came from behind him and it took him a moment to realize what he meant. In his weak attempt to get the bartenders attention, his necklace had slipped out from his shirt, revealing the black ring that he normally kept hidden. The ring that Eddie had given him on his 18th birthday all while making a promise that one day he’d replace it an engagement ring. Well, that didn’t happen.

Without answering, Buck tugged his necklace away again, hiding it away from the world just like he’d done with his and Eddie’s relationship for years before they finally broke up when they went off to college.

“Evan” Eddie said in a tone that sounded all too familiar. It’s the same that he had used when he wanted Buck to express what was on his mind.

“You don’t-…you don’t get to call me that anymore” Buck turned to face Eddie, staring into those perfect brown eyes, all while trying to not lose his composure as he took in the beauty of the man in front of him. He had missed so much of Eddie’s life. Eddie had aged so amazingly and Buck hated that all he could see when he looked at Eddie, was all the promises that he was never able to keep.

“Look, I’m sorry-…”

“You’re about 15 years too late with that one, Eddie. And I-I-I” Buck stammered, taking a shaky breath. “I still wear this because unlike you, I keep my promises. But I’m glad you’re happy, I am” The words tasted like poison on his lips and he hated it. “Please just… just leave me alone. I can’t do this with you”

Make me write ✍️

Using this as my wip wednesday

Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bidisasterevankinard and @spotsandsocks 💕

Tagging!!

@tizniz @watchyourbuck @wikiangela

@daffi-990 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazsdimples

@wildlife4life @jeeyuns @housewifebuck

@babygirl-diaz @spagheddiediaz @spaceprincessem

@giddyupbuck @butraura @elvensorceress

@bucksbignaturals @bucksbirthmark @bucks-daddy-issues

@hippolotamus @himbobuck @jesuisici33

@honestlydarkprincess @rogerzsteven @devirnis

@loveyourownsmiilee @agentoutofdiaz @thewolvesof1998

@actuallyitsellie @actualalligator @exhuastedpigeon

@monsterrae1 @underwaterninja13 🩵🦋

[gingerale14]

2, 9, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, skipping 17 because you probably have an uncountable list of answers to that one, 18, 21, 25, 28, 29, 33, 35, 37, 40, 41 (because you’re probably definitely playing some CD and I’d like to know which), 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 48 (most important question here), 49 (maybe too serious compared to the rest but whatever. You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to), and sure why not throw 50 in as well

alright this is gonna take a while

2. I've asked myself this question a lot. I think I'd like to live in a city, but not directly inside it, but not in the suburbs. That doesn't leave me many options, I know. I think it's more dependent on what stage of my life I'm in. I think I'd like to be in larger city for the earlier part of my life, but towards the end especially past 40, I'd like to move out somewhere less urban, and probably out west somewhere. My dream is to retire in Santa Fe, so that's probably where I'll end up. Though semi-rural Northeast isn't bad either, I love Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

9. Kinda hard, I don't really have one that comes to mind. I have a really nice pair of Aeropostale jeans that are super worn in and soft, they're a classic. My dad's old hiking pants that I've taken, we've searched for years for pants that as good as those and have never found any, it's a discontinued model too. My highschool letterman jacket is my favorite thing to wear around the house in the winter. My red crocs are a classic. Maybe certain pajama shirts. Merino wool hiking socks (the SmartWool ones).

10. I fucking love my name. It's extremely well balanced. It's exotic to white people, but it's common enough back in India that I can run into it in the wild, which is always fun. One vowel in my name is an "e" instead of the conventional "a", which means my name is completely unique. I've seen my name in many many places but never with my spelling. I think I have a baller set of initials. If I had a middle name it would ruin it, so glad I don't. 7 letters in the first name, 5 in the last, 13 overall. Delicious. Last name starts with A so I'm comfortably in the front of most lists. I'm super super proud of my name and I would never change it. Maybe if I get married I'd conjoin my last name to hers with a hyphen, but even then mine would have to come first because I refuse to lose my beginning of the alphabet privileges. Honestly, I wouldn't even want her to change her name.

11. I've had various mentors over the years. My mom and dad obviously. My older cousin for more juvenile stuff. My uncle (her dad) was a huge mentor for me when I was in middle and highschool, especially in academic stuff. One cheating scandal and messy divorce later, I'm not too keen on taking other advice from him. But probably my strongest mentor/role model is my highschool history teacher, Mr. Reynolds. I love that man and I aspire to be like him. Strongest moral backbone I've ever seen, understand people and children like no other, his impact on my life cannot be understated.

13. I actually sleep pretty well once I fall asleep. There was a point about a month ago where I kept waking up in the night, especially at like 5:00 am, but I sleep deprived myself to the point where I started sleeping like a log again lol.

14. You didn't ask but I like this question. Yes. Till the day I day, till the clocks stop ticking, till the sun explodes. I love love.

15. From the four classical elements, I think I'm earth, though I'd love to be air or water. From the periodic table I'm not as sure. Maybe I'm tin or bromine.

17. my list isn't huge, it's just too personal. but short answer is yes. not as many people as you'd think, maybe only like 2 or 3. even the ones i miss i don't miss super intensely. the feeling of "missing people" isn't one that I feel like I've felt super intensely in my life.

18. I remember one of my first-ever sleepover's it was in 1st grade at my friend Juan Manuel's house. I was laying down in his bed in the dark and we were both kinda scared for some reason, and all of a sudden he screams "GHOST!" and I jump out of bed, run to the door, open it, and just stand there panting as his parents come running lol.

21. I don't know what one thing I'm most thankful for. There are a lot of things and I can't really recall them on command. For now, let's just say I'm thankful for the spirit of perseverance, for my inherent sense of curiosity, and for all the wonderful people in my life who have given me so many opportunities to succeed, and the drive in me that keeps me sojourning forward .

25. I don't have a prefernece for one or the other really. I like how consistent pencil writing is, but it obviously needs a quality eraser. Pens are wildly inconsistent, but a solid pen is a real pleasure to write with. I mostly use pen nowadays though.

28. I'm extremely unconcerned with my legacy. I want the people who are in my life while I'm living to enjoy my presence and care about me. I want to live a life that makes me happy and content. I want to maybe leave behind some physical, tangible thing that will last long after my death. It can be as trivial as a park bench. But that's enough. I really don't care about what happens after death or about any post-death legacy. I'll be dead! I'll have bigger things to do lmao.

29. Actually I hate reading I think all books are evil and should be burned muahahahah. I haven't read much recently, I need to pick something up for the break, I haven't read in ages. Or seen a movie. My life has been shit recently.

33. I got lots, so here's one. Old Spice Bearglove and the smell of mildew immediately remind me of the happiest time of my life, CTY summer camp in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I can't use Bearglove for anything now because I don't want to ruin my memory association with it.

35. If money was not a factor? Oh brother. I'd do everything. Everything. I'd visit everything, experience everything, buy everything, eat everything, see everything, do everything. I feel like it doesn't get communicated across in my personality a lot but the breadth of my interests is massive. I can find something that fascinates me in every field, every industry, every niche, every thing in the world. The scope I'm imagining right now is so massive I don't even know how to put it into words. I'd simply try to experience every possible thing there is to experience, no matter how exotic or mundane. And after a couple years of doing that I'd spend a couple years just hiking and camping. Then I'd buy a nice little place in Santa Fe, a nice little place in New England, and I'd switch between the two as the seasons change. I'd spend the rest of my days reading, watching movies, eating good food, drinking beer, and curling up on a couch with my wife. Oh yeah the time I spend doing everything will probably be doubled because we'll have to satisfy all of my wife's interests, curiosities too. Cause I love her hehe

37. Put it in my wallet and forget about it. That's the realistic answer. Maybe use it for something off of craigslist lol

40. I actually do want tattoos. One of the one's I really want is a skeleton of an Allosaurus in a death pose, I'd get it on my right shoulder but big, like almost big enough to be a sleeve. I also want a tattoo of my favorite little guy that I like to doodle whenever I'm doing a test or writing something. I'd want him on the crook of my forearm so I could see him when I'm writing something on paper.

41. Mmm i don't know when you asked this, but I was probably either listening to Sade's Greatest Hits, Can't Buy a Thrill by Steely Dan, or Kenny G's Greatest Hits. But I'm home now, so all I can hear is my clock ticking on my desk, the exhaust running in the kitchen, and the voices of the guests in the dining room.

42. I don't really know where I feel safest? I don't think that's a feeling I track very often lmao. Maybe my favorite family farm in India, or my hazy yet golden memories of my cousin's old house in Toronto.

43. I don't have an answer for this question that isn't too depressing.

44. The 90s, dude. Chill ass time period, I would love to have lived in a time where there was genuine optimism and happiness for the future and people felt good about their lives. Any further back than that and we run into the racism problem.

46. Not summer, fuck summer. Not spring, not much there. Fall is nice, but not in Texas. Gotta be Winter. Cold, austere, beautiful, but everything indoors becomes 200% cozier. Texas becomes bearable at points in the winter.

47. Hard to say for sure. No electronics at all. Wake up at a good time, make my own breakfast, go for a long walk, eat lunch out somewhere, visit something in the city—a store or a museum or something—come home and shower, curl up with a good book in front of a fire, make and eat a nice dinner, watch a movie, go to bed.

48. There

48.5: Describe myself using one quote. This was assigned to me by a teacher I really loved and respected in high school.

"I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman

49. I regret a lot of things. The things I did on my 18th birthday is definitely up there. The other thing I did that summer is also on that list. Not gonna expound on those. Also the general state of my life, and my mental health and my procrastination and all the side effects it's had. So 18th birthday, other thing, and every mistake of the past 4.5 years. That's the list.

50. I suck at inventing words. The only word I've ever invented is "pulpate." It describes the way a really fat caterpillar moves. It pulpates forward. I fucking hate caterpillars.

[ladystormcrow]

Fanfiction Author Interview Game

Thank you so much for the tag, @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques, and I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long to answer it! I've been in a writing slump for the last few months (for both personal and external reasons), but I've started writing again recently (trying to get back into my old groove of at least 500 words a day), so I feel like I can answer this in good conscience.

How many works do you have on AO3?

Nine at the moment, plus four others on FFN that I still haven't transferred over.

What's your total AO3 word count?

208,006

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Katabasis

Trio Sonata

Mine

I'll Keep You

Imprints In Time

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do try to, though sometimes I fall behind or choke on what to say; I feel bad when I find myself struggling to respond to a long, thoughtful comment with anything better than "thank you, glad you enjoyed!". I realize it's never too late, though, so I'm hopeful I'll be able to catch up on responses in the future!

(The only time I've ever deliberately not responded to comments is when I was aware that the person who sent them was a piece of shit who I didn't want to engage with, but thankfully that's only happened once or twice. Very much a "your approval fills me with shame" moment for me.)

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Imprints In Time. It's a backstory fic for Madame Giry that ends with her estranged from her family and culture, recently widowed, and on the verge of being forced to retire from the ballet career she's worked so hard for, and thus deciding to help Erik make his start as the Opera Ghost (which we the audience know is going to end in more tragedy).

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

It's technically not finished yet (there's still an epilogue chapter to come), but I'd say Katabasis has a quite a happy ending: the dead have been sent to a peaceful rest, the exiled urSkeks have saved their planet and will be able to change their society for the better (and keep other urSkeks from harming Thra in the future), and Jen and Kira have gone from being the last of their kind to the adoptive parents of several dozen Gelfling children who will be a new beginning for their species.

Do you write crossovers?

I'm very much open to doing so, but so far I haven't, mostly because the fandoms I currently write for don't lend themselves well to combining universes. The closest I've come is the Les Miserables reference I included in Chapter 5 of Trio Sonata (or the SWAT Kats/Redwall fic I started but never finished when I was 15, but the less said about that, the better!)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really, no. The closest I've come is someone who complained they were disappointed that Agony and Ecstasy featured skekSa as the one topping during sex; I simply added a tag that made that clear and left it at that.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I didn't used to, but I've gotten more confident about both writing it and sharing it publically over the years (my experiences in the Tumblr RP scene helped a lot with that). The first fic I ever posted where sex was explicit rather than implied was Mine, which was a pretty standard wedding night consummation story (well, except for the part where one of the pair is an elderly hermaphroditic bird alien), but after that, I branched out quite a bit with Agony and Ecstasy (I'm pretty vanilla in my own sex life, so writing about characters having a BDSM session with cutting, bloodplay, and other kinks that I'm not personally into while still making it appealing to an audience was an interesting challenge).

Currently, Trio Sonata is my first experience of trying to weave sex into the plot of a longer story, rather than just a standalone smut fic, and I'm really trying to make sure that the smut is in character and serves to move the plot forward and develop the characters (not that I've got anything against smut for smut's sake, it's just not what I want to write for this story).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, though I've helped other writers with brainstorming and suggestions before (and they've helped me in return). I'm open to it, though.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Oh man, don't make me choose! I'm pretty flexible when it comes to shipping as long as it's written well, so there are a lot that I like, even multiple ones with the same character. But if I have to narrow it down, I will say that I still love Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi after 14 years since the movie, and I also don't forsee my love for Erik/Christine/Raoul fading any time soon.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I started my own fanficverse for Megamind in 2011 with Life Is What Happens, and got partway through the sequel, The Storm and the Stars, before I stopped writing.

I always had meant to come back to that ficverse, but I now realize that's probably never going to happen, for two reasons. The first is that my own political and social views have changed enough since then that I'd have to completely rewrite parts of the story (for example, one of the main OCs is a former police officer, and I wasn't a believer in ACAB back then). The second is that the Megamind Rules TV series exists now, and both fills in the timeline when my fics took place and includes a number of the same key story elements, so I feel like there isn't really room for my fics in the fandom sandbox anymore (especially since most of my friends are fans of the TV show, and I really am happy that they enjoy it, even if it's not to my taste).

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I'm pretty good at descriptions, especially giving a strong sense of characters and places in just a few lines, and coming up with interesting plots.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not so good at character introspection, especially angst and romance. I worry about bogging down the flow of the story and falling into telling rather than showing, and that it won't be interesting or believable to the audience.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it can be effective if it's just one or two lines, especially if it helps convey character or setting, but it should be used sparingly and only if you're sure of the translation.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I've toyed with the idea of writing an AU for Imprints In Time where Erik doesn't leave France after his fight with Antoinette, and they repair their friendship and eventually become a couple, which changes a lot of events that would otherwise have happened in canon (no Persia, for starters, unless it's under very different circumstances). I've also pondered an alternate OT3 involving Pharoga plus Madame Giry, but that's probably never going past pondering.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

At this point, it's a tie between Katabasis and Trio Sonata. I've mentioned it before, but they have a lot of the same basic story elements (hero and villain have to team up against an outside threat, which leads to them bonding and the villain becoming a better person), and since those are some of my favorite tropes, it's probably inevitable they'd be my favorite fics.

I shall tag: @cornistasiathecoblinking, @chaifootsteps, @locksnek, @musicalhell, and @flagbridge, plus anyone else who'd like to answer!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 15 thoughts

long day. i want scully and mulder time.

ooh, looks like this episode will be about mr. mulder! mr. william mulder, i should specify; i am not just referring to OUR mulder with that title.

will we also see baby CSM?! will the puzzle pieces fit together, or drift further apart?!

i think mr. mulder is kinda cute. like a clean matty healy.

(WORDS I LIVED TO REGRET TYPING!!!!!)

now, what mischief has he gotten up to today? killing people? i’m not really shocked. 

so, it looks like we will not actually get any scully and mulder time, but i’m open to change after the CSM episode. it was really interesting. let’s see what is in store.

‼️HATER ALERT‼️i should not have been open to change. this episode pissed me tf off. what do you mean we are changing mr. mulder’s face and making roy cohn put spiders in your belly? HELLO? can you even hear me? did i really just watch this? 

we begin in 1990 in wisconsin. strange place to be. a sheriff is here, coming to get someone who is locked in a house.

“i don’t much enjoy evicting old folks”, says the sheriff. wow. almost a conscience there.

but the guy he is with promises this old person shall change his mind. and from the spooky music that is playing, i am inclined to also think something is about to go down.

edward skur is being evicted, and he is not opening up his door. but something in the house smells very bad. uh oh. this is never a good way to start an episode.

this house is very messy and dark, and mr. skur seems to be watching from a distance. it’s covered in bugs. icky.

the other guy sees something horrible and throws up!! let me guess: a body? 

UGH! i wasn’t technically WRONG, but it’s a MUMMY in the bathtub!!! it looks really old!!!! like, ancient kind of old!! 

which raises the question: do mummies smell bad? i kind of assumed after a few centuries it just went sort of… neutral

i need to research this later.

anyway, skur tried to grab the sheriff, but he fired his gun. he hit mr. skur, and as he dies on the ground, foaming at the mouth (??), he calls for MULDER????

huh??

idk if either of the mulders can help you with your smuggled mummy... i just really do not know 💔 i fear we may need to call the authorities to get that mummy back to its sarcophagus or perhaps bog home

(i assume it will be some kind of alien, but you have to admit it looks like the result of a tomb robbery)

intro time!!! yeah yeah yeah make some noise!!

and they shortened the intro again...! must be for a good reason?

(NO. NO GOOD REASON)

so it’s still 1990 here. and mulder is going somewhere…. to an apartment. looking for arthur dales.

he introduces himself as a profiler with the behavioral sciences unit (aww! baby mulder! he looks pretty much the same as current mulder, but with longer hair)

oooo, this dales man used to work for the bureau… he opened up a case on edward skur in 1952!!!

arthur claims he doesn’t know what went down

mulder brushes some hair out of his face (aww, the slightly different hair style, they really want us to notice it)

“do you know what an x file is?!” “it’s uh… yeah, it’s an unsolved case” <- ohohoho, do i, the viewer, ever know what an x file is!

arthur clarifies: “no, it’s a case that’s been designated unsolved” <- hmm okay. so they basically didn’t want to bother solving it because it might be incriminating. pretty important distinction if he's telling the truth.

apparently, skur disappeared many years ago after killing a bunch of strangers and removing their organs. most of the report on the matter is censored. but now he was found and shot last week, and a man in his bathroom found with all his soft tissue removed. yuck.

so NOT a stolen mummy nor an alien. for the sake of historic preservation, i am glad skur was not a guy who kept mummies in his bathtub. we need those for research purposes.

ohhh!!! arthur tries to shut him out, but mulder asks how tf skur knew his name!!! an excellent question. 

“you ever heard of HUAC, agent mulder, the house un-american activities committee?” <- not sure if i knew before this that HUAC was pronounced “hew-ack”, which is a really terrible way of pronouncing a word, but i guess it makes sense for the time.

arthur says mulder wouldn’t know about HUAC… girl, that man is a walking encyclopedia. don’t doubt him.

“they found practically nothing. you think they would have found nothing… unless nothing… was what they wanted to find?” <- very cryptic. i like the idea that the red scare was a coverup for alien stuff. makes more sense than what actually went down. but on the other hand, it kind of undermines the senseless destruction that came with mccarthyism by giving it an in-universe purpose.

so i changed my mind. maybe i don't like it.

mulder again plays with his hair (lmao) and says that he’s sorry, but doesn’t see the connection. aww, he’s a little baby! he cannot even see a connection! and then arthur slams the door on him. rude af.

mulder is watching news footage from the mccarthy era to research this case. roy cohn is mentioned, and every time i remember that roy cohn was a real person, i have to take a deep breath. 

apparently the term “fellow travelers” referred to those sympathetic to the communist cause back then? i genuinely had no idea. damn, my modern history knowledge is lacking! listen, they don't teach you much past WWII in US history 101 and 102

god. roy cohn mentioned, again. he is said to be the man who “brought the rosenbergs to justice”. this makes my skin crawl.

(little did i know what this episode had in store for me...)

mulder has a little card that identifies edward skur as a member of the communist party. now, i understand that was a controversial group to be a part of, but i fail to see how this leads to stealing organs. we’re missing some context.

look at mulder with messy hair and glasses!!! he rewinds the tape and recognizes someone in the background of the hearing!!!

good lord…. he’s attractive.

(perhaps the highlight of this episode was mulder in glasses. it gets me every time)

anyway, it’s his dad he recognizes. which is obviously very shocking.

AWW, he brings mr. dales some coffee the next morning :,) he shall not be deterred!

mr. dales tells him to go ask his father, and mulder says “my father and i don’t really speak” <- damn… are we going to get the story behind that?? i mean, we know a decent part of it. maybe that is enough.

BAHAHA dales slams the door again and i was thinking “buddy, he will subpoena you” and then mulder says just that lmaooo

and this works on him; he opens the door back up and says that edward skur worked for the state department just like mr. mulder. our mulder must have known that, but said nothing! 

OHHH he asks if his father was involved, and dales just lets out a big sigh. (shocked mulder voice) how??

and how did he remove the organs but not the skin??

is mulder smoking right now?? i guess hearing your father was involved with a bunch of murders is stressful enough to make a guy open up a pack.

(i literally could not figure it out. it just looked vaguely smoky. i didn't see a cigarette being brought up into his mouth. does anyone know? because if mulder smokes or smoked at some point, i'm going to need to add that to my internal list of facts about his character and then analyze what that says about him. please tell me, and thank you)

dales says he can tell you how the organs were removed, but not why. what do you know?!?!

in regards to the communist allegations- that is what "they" all said "they" were!! this clears up very little

way back in the olden days, dales is arresting mr. skur!! they plant a communist card on him… or else they really did find it as soon as they arrested him, which i find hard to believe. his wife and kids watch this happen :( poor kids

dales is at the bar getting a drink after busting reds all day. someone calls the bar looking for him!! it’s his partner!!! skur was found dead! 

this is stressful for dales…. he drinks his bourbon.

he has to go tell mrs. skur that her husband died, and it was his fault for arresting him. drinking and driving is not advisable, but this is not stopping dales. he’s waiting outside the skur’s house trying to find the words when he sees edward skur run by!! this ought to be impossible!! due to the dying!!

chase scene!!! WHAT THE FUCK DOES SKUR HAVE LIZARDS IN HIS MOUTH??? he pins dales down and SOMETHING emerges???

the neighbor hears them scuffling and skur runs away!!!

HUH??? MOUTH LIZARDS?

okay.

dales clocked in the next day after almost getting eaten. his partner has something to tell him. now he has pictures of the dead skur taken BEFORE dales was attacked last night!

dales clarifies he didn’t have *that* much to drink. and his partner says to leave him out of the report, but he already turned it in!

the justice department is calling him!! they need to chat! oooo dales is in trouble...

(these scenes are very bright and foggy to indicate they take place in the past and it’s a little distracting lmao)

HE’S GOING TO SEE ROY COHN?? HE’S A CHARACTER IN THIS SHOW???

woah… he sits next to dales. scarily. and asks if he knows who he is. “then you know how important my work is” yeah. they must expel the communist vermin. sure, sure. 

“everything is political, agent dales” <- very ominous. 

dales seems to be the only one that can identify the man who attacked him as skur, because his wife and the neighbors sure deny it.

does roy cohn know about the aliens???

he’s just staring at dales. he knows he has to edit skur out of his report, but he’s not sure why. “you’re not supposed to understand; you’re supposed to follow orders” <- damn. very very creepy guy.

(tbh, i don’t really know what real young-ish roy cohn looked like, so i cannot comment on if this guy is the spitting image of him or not. but he is very unsettling)

so, dales changes his report, saying the suspect is unknown. and all the information on skur is blacked out, just as we saw in present mulder’s hand!

but skur was already out doing murders, so dales cannot leave this mystery behind. they go in the murder house where they find a german song playing, and a picture of the house's owner- a doctor- shaking the president’s hand. hmm. who is this german doctor guy?

it smells like hospital in there, his partner reports. not a great smell.

and they find the german guy’s body… it’s really grotesque!!!

the cops arrive at the scene, telling the agents to put up their hands. they have no idea who tf these agents are. then who called them there?!?!

ohhh, dales finds a coaster from the bar that says “come alone”….. secret code....

he’s in this little secluded booth thing at the bar (what? i thought it was a confessional at first? did bars back then have a random little private booth section? what was the purpose of this?)

anyway, this new guy says he was trying to SAVE the dead german doctor, but he was too late, and skur killed him. and dales will be next. 

meanwhile, his partner is at home bringing in the groceries, and i can imagine what will happen next….

OHHH HE HAS A CUTE ORANGE KITTY. highlight of the episode.

back in the booth at the bar, mystery guy says that skur and “the others” are patriots who work at the state department. skur, gissing, and oberman. and now the other two are dead by their own hand!! they couldn’t live with what they’d become!!

they (cohn and the government?) had to put out a story to cover up what they did to skur…. what did they do?!

WAIT, THIS GUY IS MR. MULDER? he looks different than the other mulder actor!! did he get a new actor?? did they just change?? am i crazy? is that the same guy? is he lying?

(i was second-guessing myself so much that i went back to rewatch the part of apocrypha that had him in it and i KNEW. i KNEW that was a totally different guy. one that looked like a clean matty healy and who i had grown attached to. this dude is just someone else entirely! is it some sort of plot trick? a recasting? what is afoot?!?!?)

((if this WAS done for plot reasons, you can tell me. because it would make me feel far less annoyed. even if the reason is a later surprise like "gasp! turns out bill and william mulder were DIFFERENT PEOPLE". you don't have to specify anything. you can just say they did it for a reason. but i have a feeling this is not the case)

“mulder” (i am suspicious) claims that he cannot keep this secret any longer, and he risked his family to come here and tell dales. 

meanwhile, his partner sits down to watch mccarthy do his thing on the TV, but the cat knocks his beer down

mr. bill mulder says that mr. cohn and mccarthy are involved in this…. skur wants revenge for what they did to him. and skur thinks that dales and his partner are involved!!

dales gets up and asks for the phone, and he’s calling his partner, whose number was “klondike 5 0133”, making me realize i know nothing about how old phone numbers work. but his phone has been unplugged!!!

 and skur is going lizard or bug mode or something on the partner!!

WHAT THE HELL?? I REALLY REALLY REALLY DISLIKE HOW THOSE LEGS CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH AUGHHHH

the next day, the coroner is trying to examine the body. and who rolls in but roy cohn! he says that they can’t take the body to the morgue. 

OH SHIT: “what are you talking about, i’m no communist” “you are if i say you are” daaaaamn. that is crazy. backed right into a corner there. 

roy cohn, how did you turn that guy into a spider on the inside…

“when your partner dies, a piece of you dies with him” <- okay so mulder and scully, take notes. you can’t die on each other, okay? thank you.

dales needs to avenge his partner’s death!! so dales must find out what happened to the other two men who mr. bill mulder said are now dead, but also had that “thing” done to them.

OH this secretary put the info on one of those guys in an x file!! “why don’t you file them under ‘u’ for unsolved?” “that’s what i did until i ran out of room” <- LMAO queen… THE x file creator!!! everyone say thank you to her

(i feel this is a definite retcon of the x file lore, but whatever. what do i care? they already changed this dude's whole face)

gissing was found dead with his doctor, but the don’t know how the doctor just… collapsed.

gissing had some recent surgery… his body is still in the morgue. dales says CUT HIM OPEN NOW even though the coroner says the family will yell at him he does, in fact, do the cutting open

waugh… something in the esophagus… EAUGH I CANNOT LOOK. IT’S A SPIDER??? SPIDER SEWN INTO HIS STOMACH?? 

i do not like that.

dales runs back to mrs. skur to try and explain her husband was discredited to cover up roy cohn putting spiders in his belly, i guess.

“it’s called xenotransplantation” <- that doesn’t sound gooooood. at all. THE GRAFTING OF ANOTHER SPECIES INTO THE HUMAN BODY??? augh. and i was going to have dessert after this. 

so it’s a nazi thing, and the german doctor must have been continuing his experiments in the US! yes, operation paper clip, we have spoken of this before on this TV program

dales wants to expose the truth, and he needs skur’s help to do so. he leaves mrs. skur the coaster with a mysterious message….

when who pulls up but mr. cohn!! telling dales to get in the car. and mr. bill mulder is there, too.

mrs. skur is sneaking out the back door, lifting up the hatch to a fallout shelter, going to find her husband. he’s in incredible pain, and he starts to go spider mode and eat his wife!!!!

roy cohn takes dales to the FBI. damn. and the lore dumping begins from mr. hoover. there are more soviets than capitalists now, btw, and this is very bad. 

dales points out that those random men who were experimented upon were not communists, which makes hoover counter that they must do even what their enemies would be afraid of. like put spiders in your belly.

dales has one chance to save himself. he is to go meet with skur and then the other men will come get him. so that is why mr. bill mulder was sent to talk to dales! not out of the kindness of his heart. “i follow my orders”, he says, and that famously is *not* a good reason to do terrible things. 

dales is alone in the bar, waiting for skur, pouring a drink. and skur arrives, saying his wife is dead. 

“they’re not coming, you know. they wanted me to kill you, or you wouldn’t be here” oh shoot… is he telling the truth…? is dales being set up?

now skur is going after dales, with mr. bill mulder having to be restrained from going in the bar to save him!!!

dales manages to handcuff skur before the spider can emerge, but he runs away and hides!!

cut to a baffled present day mulder. “i can’t believe my father threw in with these men (very deep sigh) he let them dictate his conscience” <- well, that seems to be a reoccurring theme with bill mulder

“you keep digging through the x files and they’ll bury you too” <- that is promising! /s

but how was skur able to get away and live in obscurity? was he kept in a lab? maybe someone let him go?

MR. MULDER GAVE HIM THE CAR KEYS AND LET HIM GO!!!

in the hope that the truth will someday be exposed??

the end.

huh. what am i even supposed to think here? 

well, all i can think about is how different bill mulder looked.

i can’t even fully articulate WHY this episode made me so mad beyond its sheer absurdity and the fact that i am obsessive about details and a recasting always gets under my skin. except that i am also darkly fascinated by the comic book villain level hijinks that the real roy cohn got up to, and using him as a prop in the alien show could have been kinda interesting, but i feel that making him the spider guy was NOT the move. who did this benefit? anybody? was there not another case for mulder and scully to tackle? who on the writing team said “you know what this needs? mouth spider”

and putting aside the whole new body mr. bill mulder somehow obtained- perhaps there is a good reason for that, and i am being judgemental without knowing the full story, but still, you cannot fool me- he let the spider guy go?? knowing that he would be slurping insides for the rest of his life? and is this supposed to be heartwarming? because my heart isn't warmed.

i mean, if skur managed to go most of his life without slurping, until the very end, that is... good, i guess? but then he slurped once more and an innocent guy died. so. uh.

earlier i spoke about the different categories of x files episodes, specifically the bad ones. i have copied those notes from before below:

"category a is: this is blatantly offensive. who approved this? (gender bender, excelsis dei)

category b is: this writing is so out of character i feel disgraced (3, the parts in oubliette where scully is just mean af to mulder and tells him to stop trying cpr??? and rift-era episodes)

category c is: just kinda boring af, monster isn't even camp it's just weird, also tends to be overly dark in theme to the point where no one is having fun (calusari, the walk)"

i'd place this in category c. if you were going to use some of the most notorious figures in 20th century history as plot points, DO something with them beyond "he puts spiders in their tummies to fight communism". i am not compelled by this. i do not think anyone would be. and if i am supposed to think "oh, poor mr. bill mulder, he was so morally conflicted" i guess i just don't... really care that much. at least not in this particular instance. choosing between his kids was intense and fascinating, plot-wise. choosing to free the lizard guy helped no one but lizard guy, who went on to do more murdering.

and there wasn't even scully!

[wynnefic]

2025, here we go 🥳

A multiple of 5 type of year, hell yeah. The usual look back on the prior year below the cut!

In 2023, I posted four one-shots, and I'm delighted to say that in 2024 I beat that with 15 oneshots and one multichapter fic.

Perchance to Love, in which a time traveling Harry gets love potioned, as one does

let the sky fall, in which Harry's a phoenix and Voldemort's a fan

yet I still believe in ever after with you, in which Harry is the Bachelor and Tom can't believe he's a cliche

what the whole world wants, in which SQQ is determined to stay out of the plot and fails miserably

love you since this morning, in which fem!Harry sees Sirius and goes "ah yes that's the one"

wake me up when they build that time machine, in which child!Tom gets a new start

set my soul on fire, in which Harry wants a baby and Voldemort deals

you feel it once and you're never the same, in which Harry's too popular for his own good

at last, the skies above are blue, in which the sorting hat also gives out free soulmates

like a river flows, surely to the sea, in which I write two love potion fics in the same year

take my name and make it yours, in which Sirius claims it's not an engagement ring

leave the door ajar, in which there's some necromancing

the future's ours to see, in which the Black family tree is a romantic

take my hand, take my whole life too, in which there is marriage

but if it's forever, it's even better, in which it's Hufflepuff's cup that hands out the free soulmates

something I'm not, but something I can be, in which I swap Dumbledore with Sirius

The latter half of these (9) were written for the 2024 Sirry Stockings fest over on the Sirry Discord, which was so much fun. I'm glad the mods ran the event again!

Like last year, I stayed mostly in my tried and true fandom of Harry Potter, venturing out only into Scum Villain, which was my main reading obsession of the year. The amount of Scum Villain words I've read makes me glad there isn't an AO3 Wrapped. All 16 of my new fics were rated T, very in character of me, and "Sirius Black Lives" was my most-used tag. I know what I'm about.

All in all, I posted 45k, my highest posted word count since 2021. It's not too much compared to my even older years, but ah, well, those times are long gone. In some ways I don't mind it too much -- I like where I am in life -- but I do still get nostalgic about how much free time and energy I used to have a decade ago.

My favorite reads of 2024 were:

The First and Last Adventure of Kit Sawyer, m/m romance between a historian and an Indiana Jones type with supernatural elements

Death in the Spires, historical early 1900s murder mystery with m/m subplot

Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, productivity

Good Morning, Monster, heartbreakingly excellent memoir of a therapist

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, badass pirate gang gets back together for one last job

Outlander, 1940s woman falls through time to the 1700s, VERY good romance

Peak Mind, a reread, still my favorite meditation book

IRL, it was overall a good year. I had many good times with family and friends, including a visit from an old fandom friend. I finished paying off my student loans (🥳) and my car, which felt amazing. I went on vacation to Lake George and took many photos. I went on many hikes. I had my third year work anniversary at my current company. I had a great time with someone cool before we broke up. I started learning to crochet again and got halfway through a scarf. I read many good books.

In 2025, I want to finish that scarf -- or maybe start a new one. And then crochet a hat to match the scarf. I want to finish Perchance to Love, the WIP I started last year; I paused working on it because I wasn't sure which of two directions I wanted to take the fic. I want to read even more good books. I want to write even more Sirry. As usual, I want to learn and to grow, and to engage in fun nonsense.

This blog isn't too active anymore, but feel free to join me over on my Discord server if you want to catch up!

All my best to all of us in 2025! ❤️

[always-is-always]

....a little ramble....

Knowing what we now know about Justin Bieber's experiences in the beginnings of his musical "career", and knowing that Scooter is credited with discovering him, my question is this: Did Scooter know what P Diddy was doing to Justin, when he was 15 years old?

When people wonder why I have such a STRONG opinion about Scooter Braun, it is because he is connected to some very dark energies and people in the music business, here in the US.

To think that Jungkook spent any time around him makes me cringe.

The whole system in K-Pop is set up to disempower the artists and to empower their management and labels. When a creep like Scooter is given so much power in that system, it can lead to some really yucky stuff, for the artists. And for the management (who get entangled in the web that people like Scooter weave, to control them), it can be a really difficult situation to remove themselves from. If you know anything about the P Diddy stuff, or the Harvey Weinstein stuff, then you know what I am referring to.

People like Justin and even Brittany Spears are prime examples. They enter the music/entertainment industry as young teens, with no ability to discern or understand what they are presented with. Especially when that dark side of the industry is so well hidden (except when it isn't). It is so freaking sad, what they went through then and what they continue to go through, post-trauma as adults.

This is why I feel as I do regarding BTS or any other K-Pop artist who steps into the music industry here in the US, and gets tangled up with the likes of Scooter and others. I cringe.

Again as I have said in a recent blog post, I am really glad that the guys (Bangtan) are sequestered away in the military (with the exception of Jin's discharge next week!). Especially Jungkook. He had BIG stars in his eyes and such a deep desire and drive to succeed here in the West, last year. I honestly don't think that he really knows just how dark things are, in the industry. Most people here in the States don't know, so I would not expect people in other countries to know, either. Once you know and see, you cannot forget or unsee.

Sometimes I think about what the guys could do after they are discharged, that could free them from the entanglement. As long as they continue to sign the dotted-line of contracts with HYBE, they will be entangled.

Sometimes I think they forget that they have the right to determine their own fate, as Individual Human Beings.... As Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.... It is certainly not something that is fully encouraged by their management (BTS the cash cow), and honestly it isn't encouraged by the fandom, either. There is so much PRESSURE on them to be BTS, to live and breath for BTS, and to live and breathe for ARMY.

Who knows what the coming years will bring for them. My hope is that they will navigate with their eyes wide open, and with full knowledge and understanding of the results (on all levels) of doing business with the likes of Scooter and those like him. I hope that they always have protection from those who would pull them into a very dark place that would be hard to escape from. I hope that they will be able to manage themselves at company parties, where booze and drugs can lead to some really horrific experiences. I hope that they never ever have to go through what Justin has gone through, or any of the others that have spoken out about the terrible things that go on behind closed doors in the industry.

Yeah. I hope and pray literally every day, for their protection on all levels.

So this little ramble turned into a big one. Sorry not sorry. I know too much at this point in my life's journey to not feel like I do. I just wish I could wave a wand and put protection around BTS, as well as every other innocent artist that steps into the industry. No one deserves what some have gone through. No one.

With this I'll end. As they say, take what works, and leave what doesn't. This is all just a ramble of words that flow from my mind and heart. I simply want a better industry and overall a better world. And, I want those I love to be protected, at all costs.

In order for things to change, the Light has to Shine upon the darkness. Awareness is that Light.

Take care ya'll. Give your loved ones and extra hug, today.

[littlebitsmile]

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter III

Welcome back! This took me a bit longer than usual, but it's still Sunday, so I'm glad you decided to join me (: Hope you all had a nice first week of 2024 - only 55 more days until we see our munchkins driving in circles again - hope this makes the wait a bit shorter.

As always, have fun (:

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R III ɞ────

Music booms from the headphones in my ear, my feet float over the treadmill, drops of sweat run down the sides of my face. Next to me, all I can hear is Max's heavy breathing and the occasional quiet "f*ck" as another intensive interval approaches. My calves gave up the ghost ten minutes ago and have been cramping ever since, but my pride won't let me stop.

I actually wanted to squeeze in an extra training session this morning before Max woke up and wanted to hang out and do some off-season stuff, but unfortunately, he was already at the coffee machine when I decided to roll out of bed. He then followed me into the fitness room of his apartment without any comment.

He has been kind enough to let me stay with him, Kelly, and Penelope for a few years now so that I can avoid living with our parents and even worse, letting them decide what happens next with my accommodation situation. As the eldest son, he has probably had his experiences and learned his lessons, always being the one to take the blows, and although he always pretends to give me a hard time, I'm sure that deep down he doesn't want me to go through the same hell he did. The fact that I can never come close to his golden boy in our father's eyes anyway is a different story.

I breathe heavily but try to concentrate on the view. Monaco's harbor landscape is one of the most beautiful I have ever experienced. A little too much lifestyle of the rich and famous for my liking, but Max loved it here right from the start, when we first visited a few years ago. Maybe because he can live right next to the racetrack, waking up every morning and sipping his breakfast coffee with his brain already imagining those cars on the streets right in front of him.

"You're quiet," he presses out between his lips at some point. I don't look at him but concentrate on a small yacht that is about to leave the outer jetties. He gets a kick out of seeing me suffer, I’m sure of it. If I don’t let myself get distracted by the pain in my legs, I can do a few more minutes on this torture device.

"I'm dying," I reply, trying not to fall down at the same time. My diaphragm starts to painfully remind me that I'm not my 26-year-old racing brother, who has been doing this for years and years, never losing sight of his goals, exceeding his limits.

He reduces the speed on his treadmill and starts to jog slowly before continuing: "When are you flying to England? For simulator runs and so on?"

I'm still running at the same pace as before. I try to show February 15 with my hands, holding all of my ten fingers up, then five and the peace sign as a two, but I'm not sure if he immediately understands what I mean.

In the time between the end of the season and the first pre-season tests, the world stands still in my head. I enjoy visiting friends for once and not feeling bad when I see photos in our group chats of everyone getting together and me missing. Max, on the other hand, never leaves his zone - his racing set up in his study glows for hours every day. When he's not training, eating, or sleeping, he lives and breathes motorsport, whether it’s on or off track. Maybe that's why he's such an exceptional talent. Or maybe he is just stupid, for not living his life during his prime time and will fall into a pit of self-despair when he’s 40.

"Excited?" he interrupts my thoughts. I can’t remember what we were talking about, and he notices. “For the UK, I mean? Rain and cloudy weather?”

I nod. My lungs are burning, and I don't know who exactly I'm trying to prove something to. I keep running, my thighs are starting to burn like hell. A few of my fingertips go numb, and my head starts to feel dizzy. There are a few black dots here and there, but it isn’t the first time something like this happens and it won’t be the last.

"What number are you going to start with?" Max asks. I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to give too much away about whether I'll keep my number from Formula 2 or change it. Mostly because I haven’t thought about it and I would love to have a number with a deeper meaning.

"You could take 69."

When he says this, I almost stumble on the treadmill. I hold on left and right and hop onto the side edges as the mechanical noise belt continues to run beneath me. Although everything inside me hurts like hell after the last hour and a half of running, I must laugh out loud. Max grins sheepishly at me. Sometimes I am not sure who of us is the older sibling.

"I think that would be more your thing, don't you?" Out of breath, I put my hands on my hips and lean my upper body against the treadmill display. I try to calm my heartbeat, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

"I've already got the 1; that's enough for me..."

“You won’t have it forever, though," I interrupt him before he falls into another monologue of self-congratulation. I wiggle my eyebrows and grin mischievously at him. Then I stick my tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before hitting me on the shoulder with his fist.

"The only one I'm afraid of is you,” he admits openly. I look at him in disbelief. Where has this recognition suddenly come from? I almost choke on the sip of water I’m taking. “But you're in the wrong car anyway, so at least I don't have much to fear this season.”

"I don't need your false assumptions, Max. We've never lied to each other." I look into the distance, back to the harbor. I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn't the person I am.

"I'm not lying, I promise. I'm more afraid that this team will take you down with them."

"Aston Martin won't drag me into the abyss. They're giving me a fair chance."

"You would have had a fair chance with me and Red Bull."

"Fair, Max? Really? As number two? How well did that turn out with the last team partners? Lewis and Nico? Lewis and Valtteri? You and pretty much everyone who came after Sebastian? The only off-track friends who were in the same team and still get on well are Carlos and Lando. I don't want that for us." Now I turn to him. A furrow forms between his eyebrows, and he looks down at the ground. He knows I am right, and I think that causes him greater pain than what I just said about us not being able to be proper teammates.

"If you don't perform at Aston Martin, if you even get the chance to show what you are capable of in that sh*tbox of a car, then no other team will take you. There is only one chance to be part of this grid, and I just can’t believe you would rather not drive at all than have me as your team partner?" He is frustrated, I can feel it in his voice. So I try to soften my voice and understand him from his point of view.

"Max, I love you; I really do. You're the coolest brother in the world, and I'm not saying that because I get to live in your cool penthouse in the middle of Monaco.” There is a chuckle, and I know he wants to reassure me that he loves to have me here with him. But before he can speak another word, I continue. “But I've been compared to you my whole life and I will continue to be. This hasn’t been easy, for any of us. But for a change, I can decide for myself whether to confront it or if I just leave my phone off and not read the news, because no one in my own team will compare me to you." The conversation has taken on a serious tone, but I know he understands what I mean.

"I get it. I still would have liked you to be the wing woman. Pretty sure we’d be great. With you keeping all those madmen away from me." He winks. Then he looks straight ahead towards the panoramic window. It's quiet between us for a while.

I think back to his first victory with Red Bull. How he threw himself into the arms of his team afterward, so proud and so full of emotion, as if someone was finally accepting him for who he is, no ifs, ands, or buts. He doesn't talk much about his relationship with Christian Horner, but I'm 90% sure that Christian is in many ways the father figure for Max that our father could never be for him. How he has grown with this team and gone from a really misunderstood driver to a three-time world champion. He wouldn't leave Red Bull until they cut him out from inside with a digger and chainsaw and shipped him to the other side of the world. He lives, breathes, and burns for this sport and for the people in his immediate surroundings, a quality that I greatly admire in him and that not everyone is able to appreciate.

"If you could be someone else or do something else, what would it be?" The question catches him off guard. He is confused for a moment, then looks thoughtful and shakes his head.

"I don't think I want to be – can be - anywhere else. This is where I belong."

I believe him. But suddenly I'm not so sure if my answer would be the same.

As the plane lands in London, I grab my backpack, put on my cap, and hide my face a little better. I'm almost certain that some paparazzi is waiting for me in the arrivals hall because I seem to be the only one from the F1 paddock not traveling by a private jet. I wonder why.

I quickly get through security and baggage claim, so it feels like no more than 30 minutes before I step through the airport doors and out into rainy UK weather. To my right, an elderly gentleman with a sign saying "Emma V." walks towards me and takes my luggage. I thank him, get in the car, and then we make our way to the Aston Martin headquarters. I fall asleep unplanned and only wake up when we arrive.

I am overwhelmed by the polished floors, the glass structures of the building, how everything looks as if this is not the headquarters of a Formula 1 team but of Iron Man and the Avengers.

Mike Krack, the team principal, comes to meet me, shakes my hand, and welcomes me to the hallowed halls. I'm then given a tour, starting with the departments I'm least interested in, such as budget and logistics. I know these people are as important as anyone else, but I am a driver, so the technical departments will be my home base.

"But you're certainly not here to look at the view. You want to go to the simulators, right?" Mike states correctly at some point. I nod vigorously. "Then that's our next destination."

And no matter what I was expecting, it wasn’t that. As I step into a room with a screen as big as the panoramic view back at Max’s apartment, I immediately want to leap into the seat in front of it. I wait for a nod of approval from Mike before I hop into it and feel the leather beneath my hands and notice the smell of something new. I shriek. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. And before someone can stop me, I’m already turning the machine on and getting ready to drive my first laps in the simulator.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter II] [Chapter IV] ɞ────

[hergrandplan]

Wille's Month 2024 Day 4 ( @youngroyals-events) : Revolution

In cleaning up their home, Simon and Wille find something from their past.

Read below the cut or on ao3 (warning: tooth-rotting fluff. You may want to call your dentist)(1.4k, T)

Their living room is filled with half-empty boxes. Soft pop music plays in the background as they work through the piles of stuff they gathered, both softly humming along, sometimes singing. Sometimes, they chuck something in them without asking the other for a second opinion. Other times, Simon holds something up to get Wille’s approval to throw it out – or (less often) vice versa, when they’re not sure if it should go or not.

In packing for their trip to visit Simon’s family they realized they had a lot of stuff. Like, a lot.

Though their suitcases are barely packed, they decided that now, a few days before their trip, was the perfect time to start decluttering their home (they have a few days left anyways). It turns out two people can accumulate a lot of stuff in five years of living together.

The do realize quickly that Wille is the culprit of why they have so much – Simon has long ago learned to live with the fact that his boyfriend likes to keep everything, like the receipt from the first time they went to the movies together).

It’s a slow but steady process. They have a rhythm, they crack jokes and laugh. They remember too. Now and then they find something that makes them drop everything, letting another 10 or 15 minutes slip by as they flip through another photo album, or they find a notebook from their high school years.

It doesn’t matter that they’re going slow though. They’re happy to reminisce. `

“Oh my god,” Simon suddenly exclaims loudly.

Wille looks up from an old book he’s found to see him holding up a cassette tape.

He thinks he recognizes it instantly, but he still asks to be sure, “is that…?”

Simon nods, giggling almost. “I think so.”

They scramble to find cassette player – another thing they maybe should have got rid of earlier, but now Wille’s all the more glad that they still have it. Maybe, an hour from now when Simon insists on throwing something out Wille wants to keep, he’ll use this as leverage. You never know when we might need it.

Simon puts the cassette in the player. It’s old, it crackles a bit, which is unsurprising. It was already old when Wille gave it to him for his birthday, years ago.

Most people would have made a Spotify playlist, but Wille finds there’s something more romantic about giving an actual physical copy. And so, for his boyfriend’s 17th birthday, he’d given him a mix tape, filled with songs that reminded him of him, but most importantly of them. Of Wille and Simon.

The first song plays – Aaliyah, “At Your Best (You Are Love)”, smooth R&B filling their messy living room, the notes falling and landing and staying in between the boxes.

Wille, filled with the need to take in every little detail of Simon’s being, turns to look at Simon only to find that Simon is already giving all of his attention to him. His gaze so full of love it’s almost overwhelming. Wille doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it, the way Simon just looks at him. Giving Wille his full attention, his utter devotion.

Then again, he looks at Simon, the exact same way. Even after all these years.

Wille is no longer afraid he’s going to lose any of this, he refuses for that to ever happen, not again, but he still savors every single moment with him, his beautiful boy. He looks and touches and feels, he knows the map of Simon’s body even better than the back of his own hand. The phantom memory of Simon is always at his fingertips when they’re apart, always quick to get back home as soon as possible.

And once again, Wille is filled with the need to take in every little detail of Simon’s being, with the need to never take his eyes off of Simon again.

Wille stands up, offers his hand out to Simon, who takes it without hesitation.

Wille pulls him to his feet, slowly, eyes never leaving Simon’s face. He sees the same question that’s been spinning around his mind reflected in Simon’s eyes – how did they ever get this lucky?

He places his hands on Simon’s hips, pulling him just a bit closer. Simon wraps his arms around Wille’s shoulders and gazes up at him, so lovingly, and Wille stares right back. This, he realizes with a flash, is it. This is the man he’s going to marry.

As Aaliyah sings that there’s no need for make-believe (and Wille, in this moment couldn’t agree more), Simon decides that they are not close enough. He pulls himself closer to Wille, burying his face in the crook of his neck, nosing at the soft skin there. Wille hums, moves his arms up, finds a home for them on Simon’s back, holding him tight.

Their dance turns into a shuffle, both men too tangled in each other to be able to move any more. There, between the boxes and the suitcases and all the evidence of a lifetime spent together, the promise of many more years to come, they hold each other.

The song finishes, the music softly fading away. Wille tilts Simon’s chin up, stares into those dark eyes that he will never get enough of. His heart so full of love that he can’t do anything but catch his lips with his, to feel his body flush against him, ever part touching and connecting, souls intertwined. Right now, he’s sure that their hearts even beat in the same rhythm.

There’s a moment of rest in between songs, as the cassette rolls until it lands on the next one. Wille has forgotten what songs he put on there – it’s been, after all, 10 years since he’s made it.

Then the tape hits the next song. A soft piano sounds. Wille feels Simon go still in his arms, as he too tries to figure out what song is playing. Then, all of a sudden, it’s Simon’s voice that fills up their living room. But the sound doesn’t come from the man standing in his arms – it’s coming from the cassette player.

They look at each other for one, long second as realization sinks in. Then, they break out into a fit of giggles, Simon burying his head again in the crook of Wille’s neck.

The song that’s playing is one very near and dear to Wille’s heart – after all, it’s literally named after him. Well, Simon actually never gave it a name, but he’d titled the file Wille. ‘Wille’s song’ is as close to a title as it gets.

Neither of them has heard this song in years – there was a time when Wille played it to death. When he first received it, and he thought this was the final piece of Simon he’d ever get, the only way he would be able to hear his voice.

Simon’s shoulders shake with laughter as the first chorus start, and Wille only pulls him tighter against him.

“I still can’t believe you put this on there,” Simon groans into his shoulder, his voice muffled. Wille’s sure that if he were to look at him now, he’d see Simon’s cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“I think it’s sweet,” Wille says, barely able to contain his laughter, which only makes Simon groan more.

“It’s so cringe.”

“You were sixteen, of course it’s cringe.” Wille brushes a soft hand through Simon’s curls. “And it convinced me to abdicate so…”

Simon finally looks up at him, indeed with cheeks flushing, but he’s grinning too.

“I guess I did spark a little revolution, huh?”

“At least in my heart.”

Wille leans down to press his forehead against Simon’s. His lips find Simon’s again, soft and warm and right. He smiles with Simon’s lips still on his. Simon moves his hands up to the nape of Wille’s neck, fingers buried in the soft hairs there.

Then Wille says the words he’s said a million times already, words he never tires of saying. That he never tires of hearing either. Because no matter how many times he says them, he never feels like it’s enough to convey what he feels for Simon.

“I love you,” he says softly in the space between them. They stay there, linger there, as Simon’s eyes open to gaze at him.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, and pulls him into another kiss.

[black-arcana]

Former BUTCHER BABIES Singer CARLA HARVEY Joins LORDS OF ACID

Former BUTCHER BABIES singer Carla Harvey has joined LORDS OF ACID.

LORDS OF ACID's manager Marc Jordan has confirmed that "Carla is set to begin recording vocals for the band's new album this winter and will be joining the band on a 27-date U.S. tour in June."

Says Harvey: "I had three favorite bands in high school: GUNS N' ROSES, PANTERA and LORDS OF ACID. Each one shaped me and uniquely influenced me as an artist. LOA had me hooked from the moment I heard 'I Sit On Acid' as a teenager dancing the night away at Detroit's goth Industrial Haven City Club. My obsession with LOA only grew after I saw Coop's artwork on the cover of 'Voodoo U'. Now I get to record an album and go on tour with my industrial heroes! Pinch 16-year-old me! She'll be the one in the vocal booth. While my new band THE VIOLENT HOUR is set to release its first single in February, I'm adding a bucket list item to my resume: Reigning 'Acid Queen'. Praise the Lords!"

During an appearance on an October 2024 episode of The Ward Bond Show, Harvey, who works as a grief counselor and an end-of-life specialist, spoke about her decision to leave BUTCHER BABIES after a 15-year run. Reflecting on BUTCHER BABIES' formation and her eventual departure, she said: "It's quite interesting because [prior to BUTCHER BABIES] I had come to a point living in L.A., you get opportunities and they're snatched away from you. You make money, then you lose your money. And I was so tired of the entertainment business. And I was, like, 'I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't wanna play music anymore. I don't wanna act anymore. It's too much. Nothing is ever gonna happen with it.' So that's when I went to mortuary school and I was committed to only working in funeral service from then on out. Well, after a couple years of working, I got my dream job at a very big mortuary in L.A. And at the same time, I got an opportunity to start my band and go on tour for the first time in my life. So I had to make a choice in that moment. I've committed myself to this death-care career. Do I drop it all, everything that I've worked so hard for in school, and go on tour with this band and just see what happens one final time, or do I just stick on my path? And I chose music in that moment, and that was 2009 that I really committed back to music, and 2012 we went on our — we were touring non-stop, so there was no way I could work in funeral service anymore. Well, it ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me because our career just exploded, and so I got the best of both worlds. I had gotten my education. I had gotten a taste of working in death care, and then I could still live out my dream, and I am so grateful for that. The last 15 years of my life have been spent on stage, entertaining people in a capacity that I never dreamed I would have, especially after so much disappointment in my early years in L.A. So I got to do that. I got to be a rock star. I got to do all the things. And then 15 years later, my mind kind of changed again. [Laughs]"

Elaborating on her decision to leave BUTCHER BABIES and return to the death-care industry, Carla said: "So there's so much that goes into being in a band, especially as you get older and your life changes, you have relationships, you have a partner. I have a stepdaughter, and the idea, all of a sudden, of being on the road 10, 12 months out of the year became just a lot to handle. And in a band there's five people, and half of those people may feel like they want to be on the road constantly all the time and then some people are, like, 'Maybe it's halftime.' So it doesn't always work out for the greater good of everybody."

She continued: "My dad said something to me once years ago, when we had started the band, and he meant it in jest. He said, 'I saw you singing on the Internet. Don't quit your day job.' And at the time I was, like, 'That's the nastiest thing you could say.' But I'm glad I never quit my day job. In fact, all the while, the last 15 years, while I've been on tour, I've been getting more education and getting more certification so that I could continue on because I always had that need to still be in death care in some aspect. I founded my grief coaching company so that I could still be of service to people who need me in that capacity. It was very important to me. And then last year, I was on this major summer tour. We were playing sheds, the outdoor amphitheaters and it was wonderful and every day you're up on stage singing your heart out, but, man, I saw this post about [innovative solidified remains company] Parting Stone looking for a partner success manager. And I thought, 'Man, I wanna apply for this. I wanna see what happens if I can take this job.'"

Harvey added: "There's just so many moments in life where you really have to assess what's best for you. Life changes. And also another thing about the entertainment industry and the music industry, it's not the same as it was for musicians 20 years ago, 10 years ago. My future husband's [ANTHRAX and PANTERA drummer Charlie Benante] in a legacy band. They never have to worry about having a real job — ever. But bands my size? You're not breaking the bank. You're not really earning a livable wage unless you're on the road 12 months out of the year. You can't support yourself. So I've always had other jobs, whether I'm painting pictures for people or doing my grief coaching on the side. That's a day job that I've been able to maintain throughout my career with music. It was a necessity as well as a passion, because otherwise I'd be couch surfing somewhere. [Laughs] I have nothing. So it's really hard to live passionately and just follow your dreams without something to fall back on or something to assist you. And I tell this to a lot of people, and some people are, like, 'No, man. I don't want a backup plan. This is the only thing I'm ever gonna do.'

"I always thought about, 'Okay, this is awesome right now. What about when I'm 60? What am I gonna do then?'" Carla said. "Because my mom is 72 and she's working all the time still. She loves working. We're not 70-year-olds that are gonna be sitting on a couch or 60-year-olds that aren't gonna be out doing something. Life is different. We're still gonna be working. We have to do something, and I'd rather have that be a career rather than a job that I'm forced to have to sustain myself in the [later] years."

In September 2024, Carla announced that she was launching a new project called THE VIOLENT HOUR. At least some of the early recording sessions for the project have been overseen by producer Jay Ruston, who has previously worked with ANTHRAX, STEEL PANTHER and URIAH HEEP, among many others.

Harvey shared the news of THE VIOLENT HOUR's launch in a social media post on September 21. She wrote: "It's coming. I've put my heart and soul into my new project THE VIOLENT HOUR over the last 6 months. I can't wait for you to hear it. Keep your eyes peeled for updates. This is a slower process than I'd like...but...I'm pumped!"

BUTCHER BABIES announced their split with Harvey in July 2024, saying in a statement that "Carla has been an integral part of our journey, bringing her unique talent, passion, and energy to the band," and wishing "her all the best in her future endeavors."

Carla, who co-founded BUTCHER BABIES in 2010 with fellow vocalist Heidi Shepherd, confirmed her exit from the band in a separate post, saying that she was "super proud" of her work with BUTCHER BABIES and adding that she was "not done making music and performing."

In the fall of 2023, BUTCHER BABIES completed a European tour without Carla, who sat out the trek in order to undergo emergency surgery on her left eye.

In January 2024, Harvey and Benante announced that they were officially engaged.

BUTCHER BABIES released a double album "Eye For An Eye..." and "…'Til The World's Blind", in July 2023. The double album celebrated the tenth anniversary of BUTCHER BABIES' critically acclaimed debut, "Goliath", released on July 9, 2013 via Century Media Records.

Smitten with tales of the Sunset Strip, Harvey made the pilgrimage to Los Angeles from her Native Detroit to play a little rock and roll…and instead found herself the entertainment report for a groundbreaking cable TV news program. After hosting two series and acting in a variety of television programs, movies and commercials, Harvey took a break from showbiz to earn her degree in mortuary science. She embarked on a successful career in embalming and funeral directing before going back to her first love: music.

In addition to writing and recording, Carla has a passion for drawing and penning comic books. Her love affair with the genre started when she discovered the Incredible Hulk at four years old. She spent the majority of her teenage years holed up in her room listening to PANTERA and developing an affinity for drawing her own scantily clad comic book characters. Dubbed a "comic book master-mind" by Hustler magazine, Harvey's first published comic book "Butcher Babies" (a fantasy, horror concept surrounding her now-former band),premiered and sold out at its Comic-Con San Diego debut, leaving fans chomping at the bit for her next comic, "Soul Sucka". Shortly after, she released her first full-length novel, "Death And Other Dances", to rave reviews. Carla's art has been featured in Famous Monsters magazine and has graced the cover of iconic Heavy Metal magazine.

Photo courtesy of TAG Publicity