#talk about a hand acting that is as hot as it is dramatically poetic

[gilliandersons]

AGATHA HARKNESS + hands

[senka-mesecine]

Asking for your opinion on how you think the reader would get together with the platoon cast members/get into a relationship with them? Like how would the confession/realization stage work between them hypothetically, do they have some sort of dramatic sunset kiss scene where they confess their love or do they just mutually decide “yeah, you’re stuck with me now”

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― Chris Taylor strikes me as the king of pining. The admire from afar type. The 'I'd rather write about you and vax poetic than actually talk to you' guy. The bottle up my feelings inside type. Something significant, groundbreaking and almost triggering would need to happen to him for him to actually muster up the courage to figuratively bite the bullet and initiate and act upon all the emotions he had internally all along because you probably lived in this guy's letters and say, journal more than he's ever actually did anything in regards of his bubbling affections; and when this landmark event happens --- this something that pushes him into action, he is capable of going from a passive admirer or a quaint friend to entirely hands on overinvolved, dramatic sunset or no sunset, meaning that he probably realized he loved you all along, he just didn't do anything about it because he might've been slightly cynical about relationships as a whole, seeing it as the type of thing his parents would've tried to push him into numerous times before and to actually care for someone now on his own accord almost feels like a betrayal of principles, making the confession only just seem sudden when it isn't actually --- was boiling in him below the surface. Something just shook up Taylor from his slumber and he did what he should've done all along.

― For O'Neill? Man, the realization stage happens immediately. What realization stage? There's none of that. He sees you and his jaw drops. Zap. Love at first sight. Brain fried, no thoughts. The cigarette probably plops out of his mouth too. He's immediately in stuttering flirtation mode, pestering you, annoying you, negging you one moment and then simping the other and he makes no effort to conceal the fact that he's hot for you because why would anyone even conceal that? And even if he could, he's too nervy to actually pull off such a feat of discipline; he'd just twitch to irk and vex you one way or another like it's an itch he just has to scratch. Whatever the case, Red's on your ass like a red ant since day one and it's pointless to actually confess anything because due to how vocally irritating he gets in regards of you; everyone and their grandma just about concluded entirely on their own that this guy's down bad seeing as how if there was a list of top ten ramblings he most frequently indulges in you rank very high up there, meaning that he's invested and in this whole thing much sooner than you probably are. He already acts like he's in a relationship. Better yet; like a spouse that's been married twenty years to you and you're yet to wisen up to the fact you're part of the O'Neill clan.

― Bunny's like...Bunny. Sees the object and subject of his affections, decides he likes and wants the object and subject of his affections, does an act of service that would otherwise be considered harrowing by any normal standards five minutes after meeting them. Hey, here's a tattoo in the shape of a heart I pierced with a needle raw just now, never mind the fact it's freshly bleeding. Y'like it? That's...literally introductions. He is very well capable of doing that before you even know his name or are properly introduced to him seeing as how he operates on pure shock factor and in fact, shocking you is the goal. It's funny to him in a way only he understands. He skips the courtship. Skips the confessions. Skips all the commonplace landmarks of love. Jumps right into the fray. You my girl. So, we doin' this or not? It's literally that easy for him. He declares and decides on a thing and outcome and he'll pursue it until he gets it, plan being to pretty much pester you into a relationship and he doesn't care either ways if he never gets a clear closure or answer on your thoughts about this; in his mind, you're like, a thing. So good luck ever actually shaking him off seeing as how he very acutely embodies the whole 'you're stuck with me now' description of events. You knew him for a scandalously short amount of time and he's already latched on like a leech, refusing to un-latch.

― Wolfe, uh...hovers. You know, he just hovers? He's vaguely nice and he's around. Perpetually. Somewhere in the background. Somewhere nearby. Somewhere at hand. Doesn't get involved but he is involved, if you catch my meaning. Even when you overlook him and he fails at a great many things, he's...kinda always there. Peripheral. At arm's length. That's the definition of him in love and how he effectively 'initiates' a relationship. If he sticks around long enough it'll eventually happen because if he's always there one of these days he'll simultaneously be there at the right moment, at the right minute, second and hour and things will align and click just right and you'll somehow go from being barely an acquittance to being engaged to being married in the span of barely an eye's blink; so fast, in fact, it might even shock you as it happens to you. It's all about timing with him. His confession is deeply tied to timing too. Wolfe's the type to not necessarily personally take part in a brawl but he'll sure as hell tactically show up to 'break it up' once it's already over. He hovers, hovers and hovers you into a relationship and he's either operating on unassuming cunning or he's slightly sleazy. Maybe both. Hard to tell. But, you get won over and you're not even sure how or when it happened. The early bird catches the worm.

― Yeah, alright, for dramatic scenes? Rhah's your guy because he'll have a whole elaborate tirade speech after stewing in his feelings for god knows how long and when he does have his speech you'll almost feel you're being accused of something extremely dire seeing as how intense and impassioned he comes off as in his monologuing; but that's just the byproduct of all his feelings coming out big and theatrical as he holds nothing back, dumping it all on you at once. He'll just about openly tell you he loves you to your face, looking you in the eyes, invading your personal space but making his confession sound like they're fighting words. He could tussle with you just about now as well as make out with you. He's as passionate as he is deeply cynical. He might think of you as a Jezebel that's out to trick him in some shape, way or form and that what he feels is bad news and he knows this because he had plenty of time to germinate on the idea and realize the fact that he's in deep; that you could technically have him at your mercy because his damn heart's gone and been compromised bigtime. He treats all of this almost like it's an infection and that you're the one who's made him sick, but it's not as bleak as it seems because Vermucci's soliloquy is also simultaneously a confession he wants this, albeit in a very eccentric fashion. Might as well lose his soul to something good. He just as easily jumps from apparent hate to love within a second.

― King is loveably uncomplicated and never made a secret out of any of this --- any of his feelings --- in fact, his friendliness and open nature might've made it apparently clear, in a gradually moving sense, that he was your friend, that he liked you and then finally, that he cared; like, the development was all there over a period of time and obvious from the get go and even the most gullible person wouldn't be able to miss it, making King the opposite of someone like, say, Chris Taylor who's all about the secret, introspective longings. The angst. See, King's not like that all and he might think the whole pining thing --- it's rich people stuff, because only rich people have the luxury of wasting time like that instead of taking action and investing in a good something coming out of what was initially nothing. With him, entering a relationship is just the next logical step after a barrage of him being joined at the hip with you because he's consistently been nice to you and you consistently had reason to reciprocate, the same way he's consistently flirted with you, amped up the charm, giving you plenty well-threaded terrain to do the same, making the decision less of a mutual agreement with strictly drawn out lines and regulations but more something that just falls into place naturally because it feels natural, baby. King just gets under the skin like that to the point being together is a given.

― Elias could be the only one out of the bunch to actually have a dramatic sunset in his confession of love; as in, taking you to some quiet, secluded, beautiful place to have a face to face conversation on the matter and talk to you directly about the way he feels. And he does. He explains all of it to you in a very upfront, transparent, sincere way and for all intents and purposes his could be considered the most traditionally acceptable (and healthy) way to approach love and initiating things seeing as how he'll actually sit down and have an immersive talk to you about it that could very well last the whole night as you both pour your respective perspectives along with your hearts out. It's one of those once in a lifetime conversations that literally change you. Like, there's no denial what you are to each other after this one-on-one ends. He knows and now you know too. Elias almost treats this whole thing like something you righteously deserve to know and that keeping it from you would somehow be dishonest or unfair towards you, respecting you too much to have you hanging or in the dark, and he leaves much of where this all goes up to you because for all his kindness, he is somewhat jaded and he doesn't want to burden you with something you might not necessarily want and even when you profess that you do want it, he'll still ask and inquire if you're sure.

― Barnes is never going to confess. Not in the classical sense, no. He's executive like that. There probably will never be a time when he outright does so. He's just going to go about his day and do his quiet acts of service in relation to you until it becomes a norm that Barnes is the giver and you're the receiver and that by extension this ritual is so well and frequently observed in an unbroken chain, you're together due to it. Because, you see, people do things for him. Not the other way around. Anything from offering him cigarettes to lighting said cigarettes. Man had the audacity of ordering Taylor to bring him a medic even though he tried to murder him the night before. He calls the shots. Period. So for him to do something for someone else? Real quietly? Making no fuss about it? That's his love language. He effectively confesses every time he patches up your wounds even though he doesn't have to, every time he flicks a leech off of your skin and keeps on moving, every time he kills a snake at your feet, prevents you from walking into booby traps or does anything for you that that could be considered in service of you instead the other way around. He claims you through the stuff he does for you, through the noiseless devotion of it all, the notion he'd kill and die for you if push came to shove, not through words but even if he does say it vocally he's going to say it only once and make it count. His logic is that if anything ever changes, oh, you'll know immediately. Like, when Barnes ceases loving you one can tell.

[diredove]

Hello!!! May I request Staff x Reader scenarios or headcanons whichever you feel like doing where the reader gets very flustered and bashful at flirtation and compliments towards them? 👉👈😚

You bet! Thanks for my first ask! <333

This is pretty long since it includes everyone, so most of it is under the cut! Let’s see how I do, hehe

Dire Crowley 

- He gets a major ego boost out of it, your blush can only mean that his charm is still as all-encompassing as it was in his youth!

- He's going to act (very poorly) like he's apologetic about making you shy, but his apology is buried under him having a big head about it

-"Ah, am I too bold for you? I can't help that I am not only kind, but also debonair! It is a curse!"

- Also just because he apologizes for being bold doesn't mean he's going to stop! Now that he knows how much he effects you he's going to flirt with you at every chance and revel in the flush on your face

- "How cute, I've once again put you under my spell! Will you ever recover?"

- You can say goodbye to the days you could walk freely on campus, because now you never know when Dire is going to catch sight of you and yell out some super specific compliment at you even as you try to run

- No seriously, he pops out when you least expect him with the cheesiest lines on the tip of his tongue, if you weren't so busy being embarrassed for yourself you'd be embarrassed for him

- But it's okay, everyone else side eyes him for you, because it's actually painful how proud Dire is of himself whenever you can't meet his eyes

- The man is on cloud nine having an adorable being like you at his whim alright, you really need to understand how big his chest is puffed up because of you

- If you actually asked him to stop, let's be honest, he wouldn't listen at first. Dire is someone who needs it drilled into his head to get the picture and just one scolding isn't enough for him to give up his new favorite pass time

- If you truly mean it, he'll sulk about it and lament the loss of your rosy cheeks dramatically, but he'll back off if you don't budge

Divus Crewel

- Not surprised in the slightest, but highly amused.

- "Precious." Is his first thought, seeing you wring your hands in front of yourself

- Well, of course you're flustered by him, he flusters everyone. However, if it's you, he's less bored and much more playful

- Since he's always making some innuendo or being flirty already, he makes it a point to turn it up to 11 when he's with you. He wants you to know you're special

- "If I lined up every precious puppy in the world, you'd still win best on show."

- He's more sincere with his compliments, and purposely dotes on you more than anyone else so you get the hint he likes your flushing face better than all the others he's seen

- And poor you, Divus is trying to make his intentions known but for you he's just turning up the heat until you can barely speak to him

- At least before you could calm yourself down by saying "He's like that with everyone" but then he goes and says things to you that he most definitely doesn't say to everyone!

- If you tell him off, he will obey. It is never his intention to cause you discomfort, and if his advances aren't returned he's not the type to pursue someone unwilling. That's just plain uncouth.

- If you make your stance clear Divus will go in the opposite direction, making a point to be professional and polite with you to avoid coming off as disrespectful of your rejection.

Sam

- He stops in his tracks and stares. Wait, hold on, you're flustered? By him? Surely you've got the suitors lining up where you're from, right?

- "You're flustered over little ol' me? Well now I'm embarrassed, having flattered a an evening star like you!"

- If you attempt to deflect or downplay yourself, Sam's not having any of it. In fact, now he's just offended because you're trying to convince him he's blind and you aren't the prettiest thing to walk the earth

- Sam is definitely the type to call out your shyness, not to be mean, but to give you some confidence!

- Because, seriously, you're flustered? You should be getting bigger and better compliments than his left and right! Why, have you seen yourself?

- It's too late to try and hide your face from him, no no no, Sam is going to remedy this right now!

- Sam is the best at showing off the good qualities of his products, he could sell a bottle of water to an ocean if he wanted, and now he's putting all that energy into convincing you you're the cat's meow!

- "Look at those eyes, that smile, that sweet demeanor! You can't find that just anywhere, I'll tell you what folks!"

- Every time you buy something now, it comes with a compliment and if you try to reject it he's going on another spiel about your beauty until you get it through your head that you're a dime

- Unlike the others, he is directly against stopping his campaign. He wants you to be confident and sure of yourself, so he's less likely to back off

- He probably wouldn't stop until he got some sort of sign he got through to you, like asking you call yourself gorgeous and tell him your good qualities. If you can manage that, it'll satisfy him enough to stop waxing poetic about you. For now

Ashton Vargas

- He won't ever admit it, but he was shocked. Ashton's a confident guy, but he knows he doesn't have a good track record when it comes to romance.

- He hides it under his bravado, but he's over the moon that you're so receptive to his compliments

- "Oh, you embarrassed? Yeah, I have that effect on people!"

- Inside he's squealing at the idea of you thinking he's worth blushing over

- You being shy over him complimenting you gives Ashton confidence to woo you in other areas, if you like his flirting then you'll totally like his flexing and showing off too, right?

- He acts like a whole fool whenever you're around, he's like a schoolboy shouting "Look at me!!" the moment he sees you

- He could be eating lunch one minute, then you come in and suddenly he's decided to bench press the table. Oh no, you just thought you saw him drinking from his water bottle, he was actually pouring it over his face and shoulders because he's just so hot from his work out!

- He doesn't care who's around, which makes you even more embarrassed because everyone looks at you two and now everyone is looking to see your reaction

- Everyone is sick of him and wondering why you put up with his shenanigans, honestly.

- If it gets too much for you, Ashton will probably take it harder than others. Ah, so it was too good to be true after all, huh?

- He won't let it show to you though, he'll laugh it off and treat you just as well as he treats everyone else. He's past his teenage days of anger at rejection, he's a big boy now.

Mozus Trein

- What do you mean, you're embarrassed? He's mortified!

- He sees your blush and thinks he majorly overstepped, and quickly tries to reassure you that he didn't mean to be so forward

- "M-My dear, I assure you I meant no disrespect! I am not that kind of man, truly!"

- Which in turn makes you want to assure it not his fault at all and you fluster too easily, and now both of you are apologizing in circles

- From that moment on, Mozus basically flees every time you're in the vicinity, he's tarnished your image of him and he can never show his face again

- Don't be fooled, he wishes he still had that bold streak he used to. He could have gone about things much differently and really swept you off your feet!

- But his delivery was all off and he's too old for all this now, he could never charm someone as lovely as you with how rusty he is at romance

- Eventually he'll get over his shame and talk to you as though it never happened, do not bring it up he will cry, but he chooses his words much more carefully from now on to avoid further embarrassment

- He does try to compliment you after regaining his courage, if only to prove to you that he's not always that awkward, but it's always aborted and you never get the chance to flush over it

- You won't have to worry about teasing with Mozus, you'll just have to worry about the fact that one of you shy fawns is going to have to make the first move at some point and neither of you are keen on the idea

[sokkastyles]

I’ve talked about this before, but I need to emphasize that Zuko working in the tea shop is a huge part of his arc and development. It wasn’t just something that lasted only a few episodes that he hated and then moved on from, it’s something that is threaded throughout his arc and into the finale. 

Of course he’s not happy for a large part of the time he’s working there in book two. He’s a traumatized teenager who is desperately trying to achieve the approval of his father so that he can go back to the home he was banished from. Iroh tries to make the best of things in part because Iroh genuinely enjoys it and making the best of a bad situation is just who he is, but he also wants Zuko to be happy and wants to make the best life for his nephew that he can, and he knows that Zuko needs positivity and security in his life, as well as tries to nurture in Zuko an appreciation for the small things in life and an attitude of service. It is hardly surprising that Zuko is resistant to this, though.

Zuko complains even more when he and Iroh are presented with new opportunities, because he doesn’t want to accept the possibility of growth in this new life.

Iroh: Did you hear, nephew? This man wants to give us our own tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city!

Quon: That's right, young man, your life is about to change for the better!

Zuko: [Sarcastically.] I'll try to contain my joy. [Walks outside, slams door shut.]

Zuko spends seven episodes working in the tea shop in a twenty episode season. It runs through his entire Ba Sing Se arc. He grumbles, groans, and complains through most of it.

Iroh: So, I was thinking about names for my new tea shop. How about the Jasmine Dragon? It's dramatic, poetic, has a nice ring to it.

Zuko: [Shows Iroh the flyer.] The Avatar is here in Ba Sing Se and he's lost his bison.

Iroh: [Grabs the flyer.] We have a chance for a new life here. [Cut to Zuko looking out a window.] If you start stirring up trouble, we could lose all the good things that are happening for us.

Zuko: [Turns to Iroh.] Good things that are happening for you! Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job serving tea?

Iroh: There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity. I suggest you think about what it is that you want from your life and why.

Zuko: I want my destiny.

Iroh: What that means is up to you. 

Zuko’s time in the tea shop is part of his arc of discovering that he can choose his own destiny, and although he didn’t choose to live as a refugee, he can choose what he makes of it, which is what Iroh is trying to teach him here. Part of that is choosing to accept Iroh’s love, choosing to appreciate the good things instead of wishing for something that he doesn’t have, and we know that Zuko’s desire to go back to being the prince of the Fire Nation and earn his father’s affection is ultimately empty, and part of a life where he was abused, as well as where he was a part of a system that was oppressing others.

Then Zuko refuses Iroh’s advice about accepting a simple life in favor of pursuing Appa as the Blue Spirit - an identity that represents Zuko’s internal conflict between his fractured self image, which in book two involves him using the Blue Spirit identity to steal, to get back a part of the old life which he’s lost. It is extremely painful for him to admit that trying to get back to who he was before his banishment is causing him to engage in self-destructive behaviors that are stagnating his growth. Iroh just wants him to be safe and happy but he also knows that Zuko has to confront this conflict within himself.

That’s why, after he frees Appa, he must throw away the Blue Spirit mask once and for all, symbolically letting go of his desire to go back to the Fire Nation.

Iroh: You did the right thing, nephew. Leave it behind.

Giving up the past is never easy. Especially giving up the ideas he’s held onto for so long, the idea of what he can one day get back that, as Iroh said in book one, had kept Zuko going through his banishment, that gave him hope. But part of creating your own destiny is realizing that you can find hope in places you didn’t think you could find it. Zuko has to find something else to put his hope in and that’s represented physically by the sickness he suffers after freeing Appa. His entire sense of self has been shaken to the core, because change, real change, is hard.

Iroh: You should know that this is not a natural sickness, but that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea.

Zuko: What's happening?

Iroh: Your critical decision. What you did beneath that lake. It was in such conflict with our image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body. 

Zuko: What's that mean?

Iroh: You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be.

Tea even makes an appearance during Zuko’s “metamorphosis,” because the tea is symbolic, y’all. Then when Zuko wakes up from his sickness, we see an immediate change in him.

Iroh: Now that your fever is gone, you seem different somehow.

Zuko: [Optimistically.] It's a new day. We've got a new apartment, new furniture, and today's the grand opening of your new tea shop. Things are looking up, Uncle.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Zuko has suddenly decided that he loves serving tea and working customer service, but the change he’s experienced is about choosing to find the good, to accept change into his life, to accept humility, and love. And this is the most happy we’ve ever seen Zuko be. We also see him emotionally supporting Iroh and working on his relationship with his uncle because he knows that seeing Zuko happy makes Iroh happy. Before, Zuko made a big show of his unhappiness, slamming doors and frowning and shouting and generally acting like a spoiled teenager with major authority issues, which made Iroh visibly upset. Iroh constantly tries to get Zuko to change his attitude but in the end it’s something that Zuko has to choose himself.

Iroh: Who thought when we came to this city as refugees, that I'd end up owning my own tea shop? Follow your passion, Zuko, and life will reward you.

Zuko: Congratulations, Uncle.

Iroh: I am very thankful.

Zuko: You deserve it. The Jasmine Dragon will be the best tea shop in the city.

Iroh: No. I'm thankful because you decided to share this special day with me. It means more than you know.

Zuko: Now let's make these people some tea! 

This is more than just Zuko being happy for Iroh or trying to be happy because Iroh wants him to be happy. We see the idea repeated here that you can choose your own destiny, and that those who do are rewarded by life. This is also echoed in Zuko’s conversation with Katara in which he tells her that lately he has realized that he is free to choose what he makes of the scars of his past, and his future. We also see him practicing what Iroh told him, he lets go of shame by letting go of pride. Instead of talking about what he thinks he deserves, he talks about what Iroh deserves. The dialogue also indicates that Zuko chose to be there.

This development is emphasized when Zuko and Iroh are invited to serve tea to the Earth King.

Iroh: I ... I can't believe it!

Zuko: What is it, Uncle?

Iroh: Great news! We've been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!

Zuko goes from “step aside, filth!” and complaining about doing work to smiling about serving tea to the king of a rival nation. That’s character development. And as I said before, it was essential to Zuko’s development in becoming the kind of Fire Lord that he is supposed to be.

The dramatic irony of Katara finding them and unintentionally ratting them out to Azula is that when Katara enters the tea shop, she finds not only a Zuko in a tea apron, but a happy one enthusiastically taking people’s orders.

Zuko: Uncle! I need two jasmine, one green, and one lychee!

Iroh: I'm brewing as fast as I can!

I love this scene so much because it’s like, imagine that you decide to go to Panera Bread and you find Kylo Ren working at the counter, cheerfully asking you if you want chips or an apple with that. It’s also hilarious that Katara’s immediate thought is they’re infiltrating the city when she knows that there’s an evil force of brainwashing government agents lurking about.

That Zuko genuinely found peace with his life in Ba Sing Se is narratively important because it makes what happens next even harder for him. “The Crossroads of Destiny” is a true crossroads because he’s fought hard to find happiness and hope in his new life, but then it’s all ripped away and he’s put to the test. That he fails it this time just emphasizes how hard it is to break free of old destructive habits.

This is why when he does go back to the Fire Nation, we’re shown his doubts, and how uncomfortable he is. He tries to be happy and to accept his role as prince, but he already knows that this is not the destiny he wants for himself. The excessive opulence of the Fire Nation is meant to show this. We see this in scenes like Zuko constantly being unhappy during the beach episode and becoming angry when he is told to relax and do nothing, and his insecurity at the party in a room full of rich kids. 

In particular, we see him being uncomfortable being waited on by servants in “Nightmares and Daydreams”:

Servant #1: Fresh fruit, Prince Zuko?

Zuko puts out his hand and shakes his head respectfully.

Servant #2: May I wash your feet, sir?

Zuko respectfully puts his hand out and shakes his head again.

Servant #1: Head massage?

Zuko shakes his head again.

Servant #2: Hot towel?

Zuko looks at the towels for a moment and takes one. He is seen wiping his forehead before walking out of the room. The two servants bow behind him. Zuko walks out the palace gates, with Fire Nation citizens waiting for him.

Servant #1: Prince Zuko, is something wrong? You didn't take the palanquin.

Zuko: I'm just going to Mai's house. It's not far.

Servant #1: It's not a prince's place to walk anywhere, sir.

Zuko looks to the distance, walks over, and gets into the palanquin.

We see him trying to fit in with Mai because he’s a sixteen year old who has a girlfriend for the first time in his life and he wants to impress her, but what this scene actually shows is their differing values.

Zuko: Tell me, if you could have anything you want right now, what would it be?

Mai: Hm ... A big fancy fruit tart, with rose petals on top.

Zuko: You know, being a prince and all, I might just be able to make that happen.

Mai: That would be impressive.

Zuko: [To the servants.] Do you think you could find a fresh fruit tart for the lady, with rose petals on top?

Servant: Excellent choice, sir.

Mai: I guess there's some nice perks that come with being royalty. [Pushing Zuko to lay down with her.] Though there's annoying stuff, too. Like that all-day war meeting coming up.

Zuko: [Sitting up, followed by Mai.] War meeting? What are you talking about?

Mai: Azula mentioned something. I-I assumed you were going, too.

Zuko: I guess I wasn't invited.

The two look away from each other.

Zuko asks Mai what she would want if she could have anything and what she comes up with is fruit tarts. This doesn’t necessarily mean that Mai is shallow, but what it does mean is that she’s never had to worry about what she wants in terms of the big picture.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

She’s also never had to go hungry like Zuko has, and never had to serve others like Zuko has.

And then she brings up the war meeting, which to her is only an annoyance. Zuko doesn’t care about fruit tarts and palanquin rides, but this is something he cares about. It’s also funny to me that Mai is like “make out time,” and let’s be real, nobody would fault Zuko, a sixteen year old boy, for enjoying a little hanky panky, but Zuko is like “no, anxiety time!” Which shows how much he’s changed and how much he is struggling to be happy despite all the fruit tarts and hot towels and having a girlfriend who is all over him.

It is NOT a coincidence that when Zuko joins the gaang, we see him genuinely happy and among friends and making and serving tea.

Zuko had to go back to the Fire Nation to really understand how much he had changed and to really be able to choose his own destiny, but we know which one he chooses, between a life of empty riches and a life helping others. Even when we see him addressing the people as Fire Lord, his speech is all about service and humility. When the crowd cheers for him, he does this:

Zuko: Please. The real hero is the Avatar.

Which shows how far he’s come from the boy who so desperately wanted recognition, who was repulsed by the idea of serving others or lowering himself to the status of a “peasant,” who only thought of himself and what he deserved. His last scene is not his coronation, not his triumphant moment of standing in front of a crowd as Fire Lord, or even confronting his father, but a quiet moment, serving tea to his friends.

[waytoeden]

1.3: Where No Man has Gone Before

**note: i am aware that this is not the third episode & technically the 2nd pilot; but i’m just going with how amazon prime orders it ✋🏻

saw someone refer to this one as “the episode where they fight god with a rifle” which is hilarious and accurate

“have i ever mentioned you play a very irritating game of chess, mr spock” cute

“one of my ancestors married a human female” you mean your DAD spock??

their tan uniforms make me so uncomfortable pls put spock in blue!! put scotty in red!!

“flash the bridge” pls don’t

jim forgetting the name of this female officer??

ugh uhura, and mccoy aren’t here?? what’s the point then

a g-g-g-girl?? (this is my dad & i’s running joke whenever a new woman appears on star trek tos)

“improving the breed, doctor? is that your line?” gross

and then when she isn’t into him she’s a “walking freezer unit”

jim standing as close to spock as he can <3

i love it when they have to throw themselves around the bridge - gary rolling on the floor

“god’s in his eyes??? nah he’s just got contacts in don’t worry about it”

did the light hit them because they have a higher ESP rating?? or is that just coincidental?? and how did they make sure they hit the right ones??

the mansplaining

ugh the sick bay beds aren’t even sparkly??

okay now i’m thinking mccoy decorated sick bay himself and brought the sparkly beds when he joined the crew

for some reason jim doesn’t strike me as “a stack of books with legs”

“with almost a hundred women on board, you can do better than that” man dr. dehner is hot what are you talking about??? also jim has been up spock’s ass this whole episode

NO SEXUAL ADVANCES IN SICKBAY

“lady doctor” he can’t just say doctor huh??

even the conference room looks weird - the wooden table??

she’s mean to spock nvm she’s not hot anymore

spock’s right?? i feel like this is irresponsible of jim

“at least act like you’ve got a heart” CHRIST KIRK

“we’re talking about GARY” reminds me of the way they talk in the clone high episode where they introduce and kill ponce in the same episode

HOW IS HE STANDING UP IN THE TRANSPORTER?? HE IS UNCONSCIOUS

as if this force field is going to stop him

the phasers look so weird

damn it spock in the time you took to say that sentence he changed back

did they steal those control panels from the base on the planet?? edit: they did indeed

PHASER RIFLE!!

spock walking in with the phaser rifle is so funny

“what makes you right and a trained psychiatrist wrong?” i’m with spock here fuck psychiatrists!

“hit that button” (dramatic music & zoom in)

“haha i sure hope theres not a wire coming up to choke me i’m not even gonna look behind me to check WUH OH”

spock didn’t even get to use the phaser rifle :/

“there was some morning light. they were headed across the valley to the pointed peaks” very poetic description there doctor

the phaser rifle looks so stupid LMAO i’m so sorry

kirk slithering up the rocks again

YOU CAN SEE A HAND PUSHING THE ROCK

“let there be food” i don’t think that’s the quote gary

also gary is the funniest name for a god. just the most mundane name

ADAM & EVE METAPHOR ADAM & EVE METAPHOR

“above all else, a god needs compassion”

WHY DID HE ROLL ON THE GROUND?? unnecessary

“man you don’t even know my middle name :/ not that good of a friend” jkjk i know his original name was james f kirk i just think it’s funny

i really can’t help but laugh at kirk’s grunts he sounds like steve from minecraft

and the in pain™️ pose

KILL HIM

how did his shirt get ripped open?? really it went from one shot with his shirt intact and then the next it’s completely ripped off his shoulder

kirk’s huge ass microphone next to his chair

spirk <3

the message…man can’t be god…or something like that

OKAY AND ALSO WE DONT FIND OUT WHO WAS ORCHESTRATING THIS?? WHY THE LIGHT ONLY HIT THE TWO PEOPLE WITH HIGH ESP RATINGS?? WHY THEY FUCKING TURNED INTO GOD?? HELLO??

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Lydia Deetz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Lydia after she moved into town. You went to the same school as her and were in a few of her classes, though you doubted that really mattered; you’d find out about her pretty quickly even if she wasn’t.

- Lydia was an ...interesting character. You liked to think of your school as fairly accepting, people weren’t outwardly mean to her; some were even welcoming, but you somewhat understood many peoples hesitance towards befriending her. Above all, she was fairly standoffish though at the time, no one knew why.

- Still, you liked her style. She was strange and unusual, something you admired. So you took the chance and tried to befriend her, approaching her after school and trying to start a conversation as she unlocked her bike. She was polite but quick to end your talk, making up an; obvious, excuse before riding off.

- But you wouldn’t be deterred, continuing your efforts as the days rolled by and eventually getting her to warm up to you. You even managed to invite her out with you, giving her a tour around the town and slowly getting to know her better.

- Over time, you grow to like her more and more until you realize that you don’t just want to be her friend. It’s then that you have a real predicament on your hands, and a decision to make: try to ignore your feelings and hope they go away or confront them and hope for the best.

- It’s a few months into your friendship that you decide to confess your true feelings for her. Unbeknownst to you, she was planning on doing the same.

- You were sitting in the towns graveyard with her, a place you’d been to several times mainly because you knew she loved it. It seemed like the perfect place to tell her how you felt so you took a deep breath and stumbled through your confession. And... she burst out laughing.

- Yeah, so not a good sign. You were completely embarrassed and was wondering whether you could play it off like you were joking. Deciding that you couldn’t, you went to stand up and leave before she lunged forward, grabbing your hand quickly and exclaiming “no, no” as she tried to stop her laughter.

“I’m sorry, really. It’s just that, all day I’ve been wondering how I was gonna tell you that I liked you and, well, here we are.” She smiled, and ushered you to sit back down.

- The two of you had your first date in one of the towns many fields. You brought a basket full of stuff and sat out there for hours, having a picnic and overall just hanging out. She’s got about a dozen photos of the day.

- You had your first kiss at least a week after you first got together. Neither of you were brave enough to just go for it so it took you a while to actually do it.

- When you did, it was after the two of you snuck out together and were taking a late night walk through the town. You were sat on an old wooden fence, the moonlight shining above you as you talked. That was when you turned to look at each other and just began to lean in, inching closer and closer until your lips met.

- And thus began your strange and beautiful relationship.

- The two of you are most likely bambi lesbians; your relationship is fairly innocent and things never really get too hot or heavy. 

- It’s the 80s and you sort of live in a small town so you try to keep your relationship on the down low. Whenever you’re out in public, you try to just act like friends, never doin anything exclusively romantic in nature. 

- Holding hands, locking arms, hugging, sitting very close to each other; you can get away with a lot since you’re young girls but you try not to push your luck. 

- Most of your dates take place where there isnt a lot of; if any, people. She prefers keeping to herself so you wind up just hanging out at her place or places no one really goes, like the graveyard or forgotten roads.

- Pecks on the lips and cheeks.

- Sweet and chaste kisses. 

- Laying your head in her lap while you sit and talk. Occasionally, she’ll run her fingers through or just play with your hair, looking down at you with a soft smile. 

- She’s got soooo many photos of you. She likes to jokingly call you her muse, taking random snapshots while you’re doing something or asking you to pose for her. 

- Horror movie marathons. The two of you have stayed up late countless times, eyes wide and glued to her tv screen as you shovel popcorn into your mouths. 

- Riding your bikes together after school. Sometimes you’ll just ride around town, stopping at some random place you’ve never been to and going exploring together.

- Walks through and picnics in the graveyard. It’s one of her favorite places to visit except when its close to the anniversary of her mothers death. 

- Letting her talk to you about her mother and rant about Delia and her dad. 

- Meeting the Maitland's and her eccentric parents. They all love you and have a feeling that you aren’t “just friends”, not that it really matters to them anyways. Delia is particularly happy with the idea of you two being together, Lesbianism is so avant-garde. 

- Morbid conversations. Want to have an hour long conversation about death? Well, you’ve come to the right girl!

- You’ll never have to worry about getting rid of spiders again for the rest of your life. She’ll just scoop them up in her hand and gently place them outside while you trail hesitantly behind her. 

- Dancing together. 

- Surprisingly enough, she’s quite fond of being bridal carried or getting piggyback rides. 

- Getting to see all of her rare smiles and giggles, most of the time they’re reserved pretty much exclusively for you. 

- She doesn’t really use nicknames/pet names all that much but occasionally she’ll call you the name of a character from a movie or show when you say or do something that reminds her of them. 

- Collecting and pressing flowers with her. You help her swap out and rearrange the ones on her wall every few months. 

- She has a bit of a dramatic streak so occasionally you’ll just have to snap her out of it, either by cheering her up or helping to rationalize a situation.

- She loves rainy days. She likes to invite you over, sit up in her room and just hang out with you while the skies are a dreary gray. She finds the atmosphere very beautiful.

- Her room is perfect for afternoon naps. The two of you head over to her house after school, lock her bedroom door and pull the curtains down before snuggling under her covers and catching a few zzz’s.

- She’ll never admit it out loud but she actually really likes cuddling. You tend to cuddle hugging each other, taking turns having your heads resting against each other’s chests.

- She loves eating dinner or lunch at your house. Delia prepares the weirdest foods for everyone so being able to eat something like a normal turkey sandwich or bowl of soup is a nice change.

- Going to antique and thrift shops. If it looks haunted, she’ll want to buy it.

- Holidays!! She gets all festive around them; especially Halloween, always wanting to decorate and do the usual seasonal activities.

- Letting her style your hair. She finds it really fun and you certainly don’t mind looking a bit unusual.

- Gothic tea parties. Join her on her wooden floor, surrounded by black teddy bears and creepy dolls, eating little sandwiches and drinking tea.

- She likes to write you little poetic letters. Some are purely romantic while others are dreadfully depressing but you love them all the same.

- It’s pretty easy to find her presents; if it’s ugly then she’ll love it.

- Doing little crafts together. She likes artistic stuff, as long as it isn’t weirdly abstract like delias art.

- She tends to stick to compliments about the work that you do or the things you choose to wear. She prefers making you feel good about the stuff that you make not the things you were born with.

- Many people don’t seem to realize it but she’s got a pretty good sense of humor. That, paired with the shenanigans you get yourselves into, ensures that the two of you have a good time together!

- Getting dragged into supernatural and paranormal adventures. If it was her choice, she would probably leave you out of it, but alas, it isn’t.

- Beetlejuice is certainly an interesting individual to meet. Lydia is not fond of him calling you babe though, even if he calls everyone babe.

- She’s never really gets all that jealous. She reasons that you’re with her and if you’re with her, then you most likely like weird people, which you don’t find all that often where you live.

- She’s certainly been through some stuff, especially after moving to town so she’s fairly protective of you. Now that she knows the dead can linger on, she tries to look after you even more.

- She’s somewhat sensitive so she tends to take things to heart even when they’re misunderstandings.

- You dont fight a whole lot but when you do, your arguments wind up turning into catty yelling fights. One of you will usually storm out, throwing a “fine” or something of the sort out before you go.

- The two of you will give each other the silent treatment for a while but you’ll most likely be miserable the entire time. She’ll cave a little sooner than you will, finding you at school somewhere or being let in by your mom and just showing up at your bedroom door shyly. You both usually have a hard time staying mad at each other, once either of you apologize.

- She gives you a “love you” everytime you say goodbye. It’s pretty much routine by now.

- She doesn’t realize it for a while but ever since she met you, she hasn’t thought about dying. In fact, now that she has you, she can’t even bear to imagine it. She wouldn’t want to leave you behind, she loves you.

- Her one goal in life is to be the woman that historians say “lived with her lifelong best friend, never marrying or having children but writing letters to each other about loving each other fiercely”.

[mrs-daddyissues]

considerably

~ C H A P T E R  8 ~

~ Masterlist ~

Pairing: Alfred Pennyworth x OFC

Series Summary: Sarabi Nichols is Bruce Wayne’s life long friend that aids in creating weaponry and making outfits. When she was younger she had a thing for Bruce but now her taste has aged. Considerably. Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce’s guardian and butler is more her style now. Despite this knew found liking, Sarabi feels trapped. She can’t talk to Bruce about it and clearly can’t mention it to Alfred. The only person she has is her best friend, Claudia. Sarabi has to fight the things she feels for the older man because he could never feel the same way back, right?

{Normal} Playlist

{Slowed+Reverb} Playlist

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references

Word Count: 1831

Author’s Note:

If you didn’t see it in my last post, I just wanted to say that I am returning to work soon so my posting schedule will not be as consistent. Apologies but for now, enjoy!

Sarabi’s eyes fluttered open as soft morning light filtered through her curtains. She felt warm and tingly all over but couldn’t remember having a sex dream that night. She felt around her nightgown and found no evidence. Suddenly, like a large wave, all the previous night’s events replayed in her mind.

She remembered the way every person stared at her as she graced those stairs. She remembered dancing with that old guy and then with the young, skinny Edward Nygma that she introduced to Claudia. 

But the thing that was making her feel so pleased was the moments she shared with Alfred. She recounted their sensual dance as if they’d done it millions of times before and the way he talked to her in his jealous almost possessive tone. The dance and the small encounter that happened afterwards replayed in her mind and made her sigh contently.

At that moment, her phone pinged. She turned over with a gruff and grabbed the phone. On her screen was a text from Claudia.

So...did you get some? ;)

Sarabi’s smile faded when she realised what this all meant. She would have to face Alfred today and what was she supposed to do? Act like nothing happened or address the ache in her core that had started building. She felt a pinch of annoyance as she thought about how she could’ve ended the night with Alfred in her bed. 

Sarabi rolled back over and slapped her forehead. ‘What the fuck am I suppose to do?’ Sarabi stressed over and over again before deciding to text Claudia back.

No, did you?

Sarabi tried to distract herself by making conversation with Claudia but it didn’t help. Her body yearned for Alfred in a way it hadn’t before. Sarabi knew this stronger craving was because of how close she got to what she wanted last night. She didn’t know how long she could stand it.

Aw, that’s too bad. You’ll get him eventually. And yes I did get some and it wasn’t half bad. 

Sarabi was glad Claudia had some fun but now she wanted to have her own fun. She didn’t know what to do but she knew Claudia would.

What the fuck should I do? Do I act as if nothing happened?

Sarabi texted, hoping that Claudia had all the answers she needed.

Talk to him. When you get a spare chance. I might come over later and we can discuss it further, alright Sarbi? Gtg but I love you and go get some ;)

Claudia’s answer made Sarabi’s nerves fly through the roof but she made the decision. She’d discuss it with Claudia, hopefully, and get all the advice she needed. She would then, when she got a private, spare chance, talk to Alfred and see what happens. It could ruin everything they had but if it went the way she wanted, it could have some of the most delicious payoff.

Please, come over. I need your guidance, wise one! Love ya.

She texted back almost instantly. Sarabi knew it was the only way to know for sure. If she didn’t talk with him she would never know.

Sarabi managed to avoid Alfred for the day as he was in the ballroom helping clean up. Sarabi busied herself with work in the cave that ranged from weapons manufacturing to hacking into security cameras and surveying crime. In retrospect, she’s very glad that Bruce had that gala because now Alfred would be away for the whole day.

Halfway through the day, Sarabi realised what she was doing was useless so she retired to her room. Having no clue what else to do, she read, watched some TV and even had a random shower. She was bored and kind of wishing she had some sort of work to do.

“Miss Nichols?” The sonorous British voice registered in her ears while she put away a pair of socks. She turned around quickly and felt all rationality leave her mind. Everything she had prepared before was completely washed from her mind like a sandcastle during high tide. She marvelled at how Alfred, without any effort, could make her mind unravel like that.

“Miss Nichols?” Alfred’s head inclined when Sarabi didn’t respond. She then quickly snapped out of her trance and shook her head, her curls bouncing on her shoulders.

“Yes, Alfred?” Sarabi let go of a shaky breath as her heart thumped against her chest.

“Miss Flynn is here to see you,” Alfred responded with the most professional voice Sarabi had ever heard him use. It was like he was trying to be overly professional.

“She didn’t tell me she would be here,” Sarabi wasn’t surprised though, Claudia was the ultimate best friend. She was there for her whenever she needed it.

Sarabi walked up to where Alfred was standing and watched how his eyes flickered down to her lips and back up to her eyes. Sarabi gave a similar stare to Alfred hoping he would just confess to her first. The tension between the two was thick.

After the dance the two shared the feelings between the two seemed much hotter and heavier. The tension was extreme and almost unbearably. She would love to get it other with and jump Alfred’s bones but he had other plans. 

“Miss Flynn is waiting,” Alfred reminded Sarabi as her body moved closer to his. Sarabi didn’t even notice she was doing it.

“Right, thanks,” Sarabi quickly scurried away to find Claudia watching from the bottom of the staircase.

“Did I interrupt?” Claudia asked with a worried but playful tone. She hoped she hadn’t interrupted an important moment but also hoped that things were moving forward.

“You interrupted nothing, let’s go,” Sarabi grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along.

“Where are we going?” Claudia questioned, thinking they would just talk at Wayne Manor.

“Anywhere but here,” Sarabi responded, she looked back to find Alfred watching her from the staircase. Those eyes were burning into her but as soon as Sarabi caught them, he turned around and walked away. The voyeuristic stares shared between the two were growing in number. Sarabi had no idea what to do about it. Sarabi just hoped Claudia had all the answers.

The two girls ended up having lunch at some swanky 50s style diner in downtown Gotham. They were seated at a red leather booth in the very corner. Claudia had in front of her a cheeseburger, fries and a large coke. Sarabi consumed and thoroughly enjoyed a hot dog, fries and a cherry cola milkshake.

While they ate, they discussed everything that needed mentioning. 

“So, how was Edward Nygma?” Sarabi wanted to know all the details and knew Claudia would share them without a care in the world.

“He’s got some weird quirks, that’s for sure, like he kept giving me riddles the entire night but I like riddles so it was kinda cute. We went back to my place and did it in my bed, on my couch and on my kitchen counter,” Claudia listed off the places she had sex with Edward Nygma and Sarabi scoffed.

“Jesus Claudia! I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up with an STD at some point,” Sarabi took a sip from her milkshake while Claudia rolled her eyes.

“They’re called STIs and I get tested regularly, I also always use protection,” Claudia stated matter-of-factually while shoving a bunch of french fries in her mouth.

“Is that what you did with Edward?” Sarabi teased and Claudia threw a fry in retaliation.

“No, but yes,” Claudia answered and the two girls giggled like school children.

“So, was he good?” Sarabi inquired, throwing a fry back at Claudia.

“Well I fucked him 3 times on 3 different surfaces, so,” Claudia chuckled while the waitress walking past stared on in disgust.

“I’m guessing he was pretty good,” Sarabi watched as the same waitress’ mouth hung open in utter disbelief. Sarabi had no idea what was wrong, they were talking quietly so the family a couple of booths over couldn’t hear and it was a free country after all. Sarabi just rolled her eyes at the waitress and she went on with her duties.

“Who are you rolling your eyeballs at?” Claudia looked behind her in the most unsubtle fashion and Sarabi slapped her arm.

“The waitress, now turn around before you get us kicked out,” Sarabi pulled Claudia by her shirt back into her seat and she pouted her lips in mock sadness.

“Okay, mother!” Claudia chastised with an overly dramatic eye roll and huff.

“Can we talk about Alfred now?” Sarabi looked around cautiously and she had no idea why. It’s not like Alfred would be around or had supersonic hearing.

“Right, right, right, let’s get down to business,” Claudia clasped her hands together and leaned against the table as if it was an interview.

“You reckon I should just talk to him?” Sarabi scratched the back of her neck nervously at the thought of confessing her feelings.

“Yes girl, definitely! Talking sorts everything out. You just sit him down and tell him how you feel,” Claudia explained as if she’d given the same talk a million times.

“But I don’t know how I feel,” Sarabi huffed in annoyance. She didn’t know if it was love, liking or something entirely different.

“Of course you do. Look deep into your heart and look. Do you find Alfred there?” Claudia spoke in a soothing voice as if she was a yoga instructor.

“As if Alfred is where?” Sarabi queried, confused beyond belief. Claudia could be overly poetic sometimes.

“Your heart, dipshit! Do you see him in your heart?” Claudia allowed ample time for Sarabi to take a look. 

Sarabi let her mind wander to the man being discussed. She felt the suave brilliance that followed him wherever he went. She saw his beautiful locks of hair and deep brown eyes. She heard his voice, low and rich with expression and British excellence. She could also smell his aroma, musky and deliciously masculine with the right hint of cologne. She experienced Alfred in every facet. She saw him, heard him, smelt him and felt him. He was everywhere. He was on her mind, behind her eyes, burning her core and in her heart.

“Yes, I do,” Sarabi opened her eyes and saw Claudia smile mischievously. 

“Then you love him! Simple as that, do you see yourself with him in the future?” Claudia took another fry and swallowed it greedily.

“I hope so,” Sarabi took a gluttonous gulp of her cherry cola milkshake, feeling the cool, sweet liquid burst in her mouth.

“So yes. It’s love, girl and believe me I do know what love is,” Claudia reassured when Sarabi’s head cocked to the side.

“So I love him?” Sarabi’s mind seemed to clear when the realisation hit.

“I do. I love Alfred,” Sarabi admitted to herself and for once, she felt relieved. 

For once she knew what she was, she was in love.

<<CHAPTER 7<<  ~ ~ ~  >>CHAPTER 9>>

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Three Days of The Hunter Job

leverage 2.05

hunt for the truth = fox news

you can’t change my mind, sorry

- - - - -

Nate: Here's what we can do. We can probably get you enough money to save the house and pay for medical bills--

Sarah: We aren't interested in money, Mr. Ford. This woman took my father's self-esteem. She took his reputation. She took his good name. That's what he needs back.

someone needs to make a compilation of their clients being noble as hell

- - - - -

Sophie: I wanna take the lead on this one. I wanna do what you do.

Nate: Yeah, listen, I know breakups can be very difficult, Sophie.

Sophie: Whoa. No, that's not what this is about.

Nate: I know that you have this need to be in control right now, you know.

Sophie: I don't have any such need.

Nate: But you can't project that onto the con.

Sophie: Excuse me? This, coming from the man who spent an entire year drunk, working out his obsessive vengeance on every dimwit in a suit who happened to cross our line of vision.

Nate: Hey, you put some thought into that one, didn't you?

Sophie: You know, I'm not tryin' to control the universe just because some guy dumped me. I-I appreciate the concern. I just, I need a new challenge.

Nate: Okay. (hands Sophie the files) This is your job.

Sophie: Thanks. Now, let's go get this bitch. (walks away)

Nate: Oh, boy

fucking get rekt nate you’re the literal last one to talk

- - - - -

huh nate is wearing flannel in this one

- - - - -

Sophie: Exactly. And then to protect themselves, they issue an apology to Mr. Pennington and then they throw Monica Hunter into the jaws of the very media machine that she bent to her own malicious will.

Parker: Wow. I gotta say, Sophie's briefings are much more dramatic.

Eliot: And poetic.

parker and eliot are cute

- - - - -

Sophie: But we can sell a story that commands respect. A story that she's gonna chase to get the respect she craves. Hm? Pack your bags, everyone. We're going to D.C. to make news.

(everyone continues sitting, looking uncomfortable)

Nate: That's when you wanna...

Sophie: I wanna do that bit again. Pack your bags, everyone. We're going to D.C. to make news. (leaves room)

Nate: She's walking into the closet

SOPHIE ITS OKAY YOU DONT NEED TO GO IN THE CLOSET

- - - - -

Parker: I got the pass. Easy.

Sophie: Parker, we went over this.

[Exterior Studio]

Sophie: You're not supposed to take it. Get caught with it.

Parker: I don't know how to get caught.

Sophie: Yeah, I know it's difficult to steal badly. Just, just try

- - - - -

Monica (grabs Parker): Hey. Hey. I will have you arrested for trespassing if you do not tell me what you are doing here.

Parker: Technically, you can't have me arrested for trespassing because you don't own the station.

Sophie: Parker, tell her the story

parker: TRY ME BITCH

- - - - -

hardison doing crazy tinfoil hat guy is iconic

+ parker and hardison’s high five and “that’s what I’m talkin about!” ADORABLE

- - - - -

Parker: Eliot, these conspiracies aren't real, right?

Eliot: What do you mean?

Parker: Like that one over there that says all the major wars of the past 50 years were ordered by members of The Council.

Eliot: Parker, I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you. (walks away)

Parker: You're not a member of The Council, are you? Eliot? Is he?

Nate: Oh, I don't know. (walks away)

Parker: Huh? Uh, Nate, is he?

parker looked so vulnerable asking it and eliot’s just like,,, imma fuck with her LMFAO

also this is another chaotic ot3 scene that I’d die for

- - - - -

eliot taking the general’s id with his pencil and handing it off to hardison? SMOOTH AS FUCK

- - - - -

Parker: But what if he won't talk to us?

Monica: Then we celebrate.

Parker: Celebrate?

Monica: Denial means guilt. Refusal means more guilt. Punch out my cameraman, and I'll kiss you on the mouth.

Camera Man: Mm-hm.

parker: 👀👀👀

- - - - -

parker gets hit with a car ,,, how many times in this series does she get hit with a car ??

- - - - -

monica’s face when she sees parker get hit by a car is LITERALLY the exact same as the surprised pikachu face

+

bruh imagine you see this happening ,,, like a girl get hit by a car, a suit running out, grabbing stuff of her body, then running away ???

her playing dead on the ground for a hot minute before “waking up”, dusting herself off and walking away ???

- - - - -

Hardison: Move. Don't stop. Come on.

Monica: They ran her over.

Hardison: I know, but we gotta go. Security cameras, the ATM cameras, the traffic cameras. We're always being watched. Just put your head down. Act natural.

Monica: Why are you dressed like a mailman?

Hardison: Invisible man, mailman, nobody notices the mailman. He blends right in. Just like a circus clown.

- - - - -

Parker: We totally went to the moon.

Eliot: Movie sets. I've seen 'em. They're outside of Albuquerque.

Parker: Why would there still be sets there?

Eliot: Because they're gonna reuse 'em for the Mars mission. Repaint it all red.

her bumping shoulders with eliot and leaning on him? the casual intimacy that nourishes my S O U L

- - - - -

Sophie: She has to have corroboration from her own sources. She has to craft the narrative. Monica Hunter has to be the author of her own personal nightmare.

Nate: Do I sound that creepy when I...?

Eliot: Hell yes.

Parker: Mm-hm.

Nate: Really?

Eliot: You do

- - - - -

Sophie: The only question is whether Hardison guessed her sources right.

Hardison: G-guess? Guess?

Sophie: Well, you know.

Hardison: Woman, my name Alec Hardison. I do not guess, OK? Look, journalists, they're lazy. They always go back to the same sources. I compared Monica Hunter's stories for the last ten years and created a heuristic model based on her sources. I-I filtered by story type, priority and evidentiary chain. Look, (pulls up info on laptop) sex scandal: 87 percent chance she goes to these sources. Serial killer scare: 90 percent she contacts these sources for confirmation. Government secrets and health scare intersects: Ninety-five percent chance she goes to these sources. Look, look. Right there. She's emailing them right now. Look.

- - - - -

Hardison: Get me out of here.

Sophie: Yeah, I'm working on it.

Parker (comes out of back room pulling on jacket): I'm on it.

Sophie: No, no, no, no, no, you cannot go. You're dead. Monica Hunter sees you and the whole con is blown.

Parker: Right

PARKER WAS R E A D Y TO GO IN AFTER HIM WE LOVE A PROTECTIVE OT3

- - - - -

Hardison: Damn the con. I'm a black man caught on an Army base with a video camera. I am going to jail forever.

the realest part of the show

- - - - -

Hardison: Eliot, get me everything you can on a Lieutenant Abbot.

[Apartment]

Hardison: Just-just do what I taught you.

Eliot (typing on laptop): Now, the "http" thing comes before—

[Interrogation Room 2]

Eliot: --the "www-dot," right?

Hardison: Eliot!

[Apartment]

Eliot: Which one's the forward slash?

Sophie: Oh, come on.

[Interrogation Room 2]

Hardison: It ain't the time, Eliot. It ain't the time.

[Apartment]

Eliot: It's not fun when you're hanging out there in the wind and there's a dude behind a laptop cracking jokes, is there?

Parker: (holding a gas mask over her face before looking over it) I like it when we switch jobs. It's exciting

someone PLEASE make an eliot-being-bad-at-technology compilation I’m begging

also it’s officially canon that hardison tries teaching eliot about technology

- - - - -

Eliot: No, that's everything on this guy.

Lieutenant: Sir, I need to know why you're on this base.

Hardison: Yes. Why am I on this base?

Lieutenant: I'm asking you.

Hardison: No, I'm asking you. Why am I on this base? Why am I in this room?

Lieutenant: So I can ask you questions.

Hardison: Or maybe it's so I can ask you questions, Lieutenant Kyle Abbot, Social Security 823-24-6270?

Lieutenant: I don't know what you're up to.

Hardison: Maybe you’re not cleared to know. Two disciplinary actions? That one in Germany? Maybe you're just too much of a security risk.

(lieutenant goes to leave and Hardison slams his fist on the table)

Hardison: Did I say you could leave?

(lieutenant swallows nervously)

T H I S

S C E N E

T H O

- - - - -

[Army Base Gate]

Nate: Not gonna work.

Eliot: It's all in the salute, man.

[Apartment]

Sophie: Just work the stars and bars. Nobody wants to--

[Army Base Gate]

(a soldier moves to the side of the car and leans in, saluting Nate)

Sophie: --look a general in the eye.

Nate: Uh, good form soldier. As you were.

Soldier: Clear.

(the gate goes up and Nate pulls into the base, parking near a building. He gets out of the car and walks toward the door)

- - - - -

Nate: We hunt for the truth through many dark places. (approaches Monica menacingly) I am a patriot, Ms. Hunter. I'm sorry. (to Eliot) Earl.

(Monica takes a can of pepper spray from her purse and sprays it in Nate’s face, driving him back. She runs out the door as he groans in pain. Eliot goes to pat his back)

Eliot: Good thing Parker switched that with water.

Nate: Didn't! Didn't switch. (they both start coughing)

LMFAO

- - - - -

Monica: My friends, this is the enemy. Our water has been poisoned.

(an aide spits out a mouthful of water)

JFNSKDKEJWJNFJ

- - - - -

(Eliot is cutting vegetables while Nate opens a bottle of wine and Hardison swirls orange soda in a wine glass)

hardison is literally swirling his neon orange soda in a wine glass as eliot cooks actual food for the fam I CANNOT

- - - - -

Parker (holds up photo): Loch Ness Monster.

Hardison: Loch Ness submarine.

Parker: No!

Eliot: Scottish waters are cold and deep. It's a perfect place to test.

Parker (holds up photo): Area 51.

Eliot: True.

Hardison: False.

Eliot: That's true.

Hardison: False. She said Area 51, 51.

Eliot: I'm sorry. False. Area 52.

Hardison: Been there.

Eliot: Yep

I’m crying the ot3 was top tier chaotic this entire episode and parker was having A Time™ with all these conspiracies

someone make a compilation of these scenes overlayed with the wii music. pls.

[peeterparkr]

limits of desire⤳t.h.||19

chapter 19: the bridesmaid

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the conversations

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty, SMUT (skip the ¨** if you don’t want to read it), flashbacks in italics

word count: 6.5K

song I recommend to listen while reading:

angel eyes-abba

as long as you’re mine-Wicked

New Years Day-Taylor Swift

Falling-Harry Styles

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Desire is defined as a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen. However, in a friendship, that feeling should never go beyond a certain established point because it will all collapse. 

It’s hidden between smiles, dirty secrets and willing eyes. Keep it quiet, or it’ll go all to hell. It’s better, sometimes, to keep it hidden. No one gets hurt. Even if people pointed it out. 

Maybe they were oblivious, it probably was that. But when y/n and Tom looked back now it seemed to be more than obvious that there was something more than a clear friendship. But maybe, it should’ve stayed as one. Clearly, their friends thought the same. Or at least, they wanted to change a few things because they truly didn’t want to follow up their mess. Because those friends had been there every time they had fucked up. And this mess, they didn’t know how to control it. 

Even if neither Tom nor Y/N had ever admitted it, Haz and Liz had always been there right beside them whenever they needed them. 

“I mean she is getting too close to him, isn’t she?” Tom asked Harrison as they both stared at Y/N, they were at a party. “I mean—out of everyone why is she hanging out with Andrew Jacobs?” 

Harrison shrugged. “I—well, Andrew was kind of the one who was getting close.” 

“Yeah, but—“Tom cleared his throat as he took a sip ofthe beer in . “But, uh… it’s Andrew and she seems…” 

Harrison raised his brows. “Are you jealous, mate?”

Tom laughed, rolling his eyes. “No, I’m not, I’m just concerned about my best friend-“

“Ouch,” Haz input. 

“Girl best friend,” Tom cleared out. “I mean Andrew is not good enough for her.” 

Harrison stared at his best friend. “They’re only talking, man, don’t worry about it.” 

“Right,” Tom gulped. “Still, I’m going to save her from him.” 

“Tom,” Haz stopped him. “Why are you doing this? She’s having fun.” 

“Is she?” Tom frowned. “I mean… I know her, I wouldn’t say she’s having fun.” 

“Relax, she’s probably just listening to his jokes, he’s funny,” Haz said, “not her type, mate.” 

“And what is her type?” Tom frowned. “So far she’s only dated jerks, so—Andrew is kind of her type then.” 

“So you perfectly fit into her type too then, no need to act up,” Haz pushed. “Don’t worry, lover boy, she loves you just fine.”

“Harrison, stop.“

“I’m just messing with you,” Haz sassed, but truly he wasn’t really joking, he knew Tom was burning with jealousy even if he didn’t want to admit it. “No need to act up, Tom, you guys are meant to be.” 

“Can you stop that? We are friends, that’s it.” 

“Then why are you so jealous?” 

“Am not.” 

Harrison laughed. “Well, even if you aren’t, I’m still convinced you have nothing to worry about, y/n will probably blow him off in a bit.” 

But Harrison had been wrong, and Y/N had accepted a date with Andrew Jacobs. That day, Tom lost it. Harrison remembered how flustered Tom had been, even if he didn’t want to admit that his attitude was derived specifically from y/n’s date. 

Tom had woken up in a bad mood and had avoided talking to anyone. 

“What was that name of that girl?” Tom had finally spoken to Haz. 

“What girl?” 

“Y/N’s friend, she was hot.” 

Haz raised his brow. “I dunno who you’re talking about.” 

“Elizabeth… Lizzie,” Tom said, “I’m gonna call her, see if she wants to hang out.” 

Harrison frowned. “Lizzie?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I thought y/n had asked you not to hit on her friends,” Haz reminded him. 

Tom shrugged. “If she’s out with Andrew Jacobs then I can call up one of her friends.” 

“Oh, so…” Haz rolled his eyes. “That’s why you want to call her.” 

Tom shrugged. “No, it’s fair play, if she’s out there dating my friends then it’s only fair if I date one of her friends, too.” 

Harrison frowned. “That’s not really how it works.” 

“I’m just angry, alright?” Tom sighed. “I… She didn’t speak to me at all that night, and when she did she only made fun of me, and she ignored me all night long, and then just,” Tom scoffed. 

“She was slightly drunk.” 

“I mean, I mean… She only just broke up with that other guy, Tony, gosh, and she’s already dating someone else? And I mean, I am her best friend, why does she keep ignoring me?” 

“I mean, you were kind of the reason they broke up,” Haz explained. 

“I’m not.” 

Harrison shrugged. “Why do you care that much? You do that all the time.” 

Tom clenched his jaw. “This isn’t about me.” 

“This is about y/n giving her attention to anyone else but you,” Haz pointed out. 

“That’s not true.” 

“That’s your biggest fear Tom, losing her without you ever admitting what you really feel for her,” Haz snapped. 

Tom rolled his eyes as he stormed off the room. “I don’t have feelings for her.” 

Harrison, to this day, thought that Tom had taken too much time to admit it and he wondered if things could’ve been any different had they said it earlier, or had they not said it at all. Tom always avoided anything that involved his feelings and excused himself on practicalities.

Funnily enough, Lizzie had the same feeling. Because Lizzie remembered how y/n would silently cry and ignore it, and how Lizzie knew y/n. But Lizzie never pointed it out because she knew y/n liked to remain hidden. But she knew her best friend, and she remembered how she had acted this way since they were kids. Like that time when y/n had a crush on their friend Luke, and y/n, upon her realization had told Luke that his eyes were so blue she could drown in them, but then asked her mother to change school, and when she couldn’t, she had avoided talking to Luke Miller even if he liked her back. Or how y/n, after giving her first kiss with one of her brother’s friends, ran away to Lizzie’s house and hid under Lizzie’s bed. 

Y/N ran away. That’s who she was. She never stood up for her feelings, and she never spoke them up. But y/n, y/n wrote her feelings. And she stood behind the crowd and never liked to be seen, and never wanted anyone to speak it up. She was private, she never showed off. She never liked chick flicks because y/n never liked any type of PDA, and y/n never liked the whole idea of someone yelling to the world that they loved someone. 

For y/n, it was always in the details. Y/N was someone who loved to chase, y/n liked challenges, and proving the world that they were wrong. 

That’s why when Tom had come up in her life,and it seemed that he loved to do the exact same thing she did, y/n hit the jackpot. She crushed on the guy who relied on the details but who avoided talking about his feelings, the guy who had her wrapped around his finger like a ring but didn’t care at all. Someone whom y/n should and could o run away from, but someone whom she didn’t have to, because he pushed her away when she was about to run away. It was perfect. 

But then, she fell. How could she not? Lizzie didn’t blame her. Even if at first she didn’t quite understand it, and even if Lizzie hadn’t initially noticed. But then, Lizzie heard her. 

“Y/N, oh my god, Tom texted me,” Lizzie said. They were at her place, girls night in, they were having a grown up slumber party where they could basically talk about y/n’s date. They were currently preparing margaritas as Y/N was taking a slice of pizza.  “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

“He… what?” Y/N looked up, leaving her slice on the plate. 

“Of course he did,” Hannah laughed. “The look he was giving you all night long.” 

“The… what?” Y/N pushed.

“Should I text him back?” Asked Lizzie. 

“Uh… What? What did I miss?” Y/N asked. “Is…” 

“You didn’t notice because you were up all night talking with Andrew but Tom was looking at Lizzie!” Jess explained. 

“Did he, now?” Y/N cleared her throat. “And what look did he give you?” y/n asked. 

“The kind of eyes he used to give you,” Hannah said. 

Y/N laughed. “He’s never given me any eyes.” 

“Please!” Jess yelled. “You both basically undress each other every time.” 

“We do not,” Y/N laughed. “We are friends,” she bit her lip. “But what… did you guys talk?” 

“Just a little,” Lizzie giggled. 

“Look, I… I know Tom,” Y/N sighed. “It’s a game he likes to play.” 

“Does he, now?” 

Y/N laughed as she ran to the couch and stood up there. “Please, don’t fall under the lies that are his eyes.” 

“Oh we’re getting poetic y/n, cool,” Hannah grinned as she handed y/n her glass. “Fine then, explain.” 

“Tom Holland,” y/n smirked. “One look, and you’ll be doomed. One smile and he’ll have you wrapped around his fingers, he’ll make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, didn’t he?” 

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Maybe.” 

“Angel eyes,” y/n mocked. “Please, he’s done that with thousands of them, but good thing you’re my friends because I can warn you about his poison eyes,” y/n giggled. “He’ll blink once and you’ll be tangled up in his sheets, you’ll fall for him,” y/n brought her hand to her face dramatically. “Because who wouldn’t fall with him?” She sighed. “But!” She raised her voice. “He’ll be clear, he doesn’t want anything more than a one night stand, but oh, every girl falls for it because he’s being…” 

“Honest?” Jess asked. 

“Ding ding ding! He’s honest,” Y/N laughed. “But then he’ll have your heart and break it and you’ll be alone, wondering what you did wrong, but you know it deep inside he was always honest, even if he revolved with hope, even if for a slight moment he made you believe… He was clear, he never wanted a relationship.” 

“Oh come on, y/n,” Hannah laughed as she threw a pillow at y/n. “He’s not like that, he’s nice with you.” 

“Have you ever thought about him wanting more than a friendship?” Jess wondered as y/n sat back down on the couch.

“Huh,” y/n blushed. “No, I could never like someone like him. Please, he’s a lie… And even if… I do admit I am crazy about his eyes,” she coughed. “Woah, what did you put in this?” She sighed staring at the glass, making her friends laugh. “No, no, he wears a disguise, and besides you know what I want, I…want someone to lean on, but you know, someone who lets me be free? Whom I can trust, and…” 

“Someone to hold,” Lizzie laughed. 

“And I mean, I’m not gonna lie, maybe the thought roamed around my head, but then I realized… I could never like someone that would make me feel so lonesome, you know?” Y/N explained. “I want someone whom I can settle down with.” 

“Andrew Jacobs?” 

“No, no, not him, gosh it was...awful,” Y/N laughed. “But we…I mean,” y/n sighed. “I want someone who loves me for who I am and whom I know will be there in the morning, someone who gets the details.” 

“The details?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, and…” 

“But please, we’re not telling you to date Tom, how about a friendship with benefits?” 

“y/n would fall for him,” Lizzie nodded. 

“Okay, Lizzie, and this isn’t to discourage you, but I think Tom… “ Hannah bit her lip. 

“Tom what?” 

“Please, don’t you see it? Tom is clearly attracted to you,” Jess laughed. 

“No, no, that’s in his nature, he flirts, but he won’t do anything because our friendship is more important,” y/n said as her friends gave her some looks.  “And because I don’t like him and he doens’t like me. He just likes to have toys and then throws them away when he’s bored, and I don’t wanna be a toy.” 

“But please, he seems so easy to fall in love with,” Jess grinned. 

“That’s what makes a good playboy, you never feel like you’re being played,” warned Y/N. 

Lizzie chuckled. “Maybe I can change him.” 

“Please,” y/n rolled her eyes. “You can have an affair but that’s it, and I know you Lizzie, it’s better to forget him. Otherwise there’s no getting over him.” 

“Please, y/n, maybe you won’t like him but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a taste,” Lizzie said. 

“You should listen to y/n,” Hannah warned.

But Lizzie didn’t. And she texted Tom, because she didnt. And in the next party, there she was, with Tom’s hands around her waist, and with y/n walking away. And she realized it, y/n’s eyes told her. Everything. 

And Lizzie never told y/n, but Lizzie had been the one to cut off things with Tom, he had played his part, but Lizzie had been the one to end it all.  Because she saw y/n, and she saw her best friend was foolishly in love with him. Because y/n had cried that night, and she had blamed it on school, or on her hormones but y/n was compeltely broken. 

She feared her best friend had done the one thing she said she’d never do. Lose herself completely. Falling in love with the guy who could never love her, with the guy whom she could chase. The unreachable. 

But Y/N hadn’t realized she might end up more hurt than intended. Because little by little, Tom would show even more that he loved her back, but Tom showed he was an idiot. 

And Lizzie remembered seeing y/n cry when Tom would flirt with y/n and then end up with any girl in the room, y/n was out of her head in the last months before she left to Mexico. She was completely devoted to Tom, and Lizzie had read some of y/n’s writing. 

And she had received a crying y/n that didn’t want to explain anything, just that she had opened up about her feelings and that Tom had pushed her away. And Lizzie remembered listening to y/n: 

“I wanted to wait, but… There’s nothing else I can do, I… I’m such a fool,” y/n sighed. “And now what? I’m a fucking idiot, I opened up and he pushed me aside, and I…” y/n had sighed. “And now what? I lost him, but maybe it’s the best cleanse myself, and forget him, but… There’s a part of me that thinks he wants me to, and tells me to hold on to him, but… Right now, I need to leave.” 

“y/n, he’s an asshole, he’s not able to love,” Lizzie said. “You’ve said it yourself.” 

But Lizzie had seen something on y/n that she’d never seen before, she didn’t want to be quiet. She didn’t want to run away. It was when y/n received the call to represent the BBC as a reporter in the press conference Tom would be holding. 

“You don’t have to do it,” Lizzie said. “Just tell them that you’re y/n, the one who’s involved with all of this, and you shouldn’t be there, I’m sure they have more reporters.”  

“I want to be there.” 

Lizzie sighed. “You’ll only get hurt.” 

“I know, but I just can’t believe myself,” Y/N sighed as she stood up. “I don’t know how to do this,” y/n rubbed her face.  “I love him, and I don’t know how, I don’t know what else to do. He changed my life alright, and in these past few days… It’s a completely different life, I need to change and I don’t know how to… Make him love me again,” Y/N sighed. 

“He loves you.” 

“But… I hurt him and I know, but I… Look! I had the perfect man, I truly.. Miguel was incredible alright? He was everything I asked for in a man, everything, if you picked my diary from my childhood.” 

“I know, he’d be the description,” Lizzie nodded. “I know, y/n.” 

“And I let him go because of Tom, who’s.. Definitely not the type of guy I planned on falling in love with.” 

“You can’t plan everything, y/n, especially you can’t plan whom you fall in love with,” Lizzie said. 

“And right now, I don’t know what to do, I only want to scream…. And I want to shout it to the world, hey I fucked up!” She opened up her arms and yelled. “I love him! I love you, Tom! But what the hell, right?” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s funny… isn’t it? I shouldn’t be here, this isn’t me. I’m always calm, I’m...private but right now I think I should just… do it for him? Finally speak up, maybe….”Y/N licked her lips as she walked around the room. “I love him, I love him,” she whispered to herself. “But we’ll only end up hurting each other, right? Gosh, I never thought I’d be making a fool…”Y/N plopped herself beside Lizzie and then screamed into the pillow. “But, the scariest part is… He loves me back, I… “ She sat up. “I don’t know what to do, I want to turn around and back away, because that’s my nature, I’m scared of him, but I want him, and I love him. And… gosh, I fucked it up, I… But I was scared because I’m scared he’ll wake up one day and look at someone the way he looks at me, and they’ll fall, because he’s so easy to love, you know? And I don’t want him to play with me, and I don’t want to fall for those angel eyes but… Gosh, I just need to look at them, and I need to see his smile, once more.” 

Lizzie smiled just slightly listening to her. 

“Is it weird? Is it weird I wanna risk it all even if it’s all a lie?” Y/N bit her lip. “Because I look back and think of all the good times, and I see it, we can build up to something nice from it… “y/n smiled, and Lizzie hadn’t And I know I can’t live without him. But I also remember all the bad times, and I wonder, does it have to be the same? With all the pain? But…. Gosh, I just need to see him one more time. One look, just one look and I’ll be down at his feet again.” 

“Then why don’t you see him one more time?” Lizzie asked. 

“Because then I’ll want to stay forever.” 

“And don’t you want that?” Lizzie inquired. 

“But what if he doesn’t?

There were Lizzie and Harrison, the friends tangled up in the mess. Harrison had met up with Lizzie moments after Tom had conveniently disappeared. They, along with the security, stopped the press that was clearly going after Tom and y/n. Neither of them knew what the hell they were going through. 

“Can I… May I know what the hell was that?” 

“She still works for the BBC, remember?” Lizzie said. “I—didn’t know she’d be doing that!” 

Haz sighed. “I—I just never expected y/n to do something like that.” 

“You think I did? I thought she was going to look up for him after this,  not blurt it all out, “ Lizzie sighed, “where did they go?” 

Harrison shook his head. “I don’t know, I just need them for god's sake to talk this shit out.” 

“They better,” Lizzie agreed. “I don’t want to… I mean I’m here to support her but I can’t keep up tangled in this drama, not if they don’t talk it out, I mean it’s been 5 years now? And they keep on pushing away their feelings and avoiding it.” 

“Yeah, right, they’re probably going to… talk it out.” 

But they weren’t. Tom and y/n were excellent at avoiding their feelings and they were even better at avoiding to speak. 

Just after blurting all that out, y/n had rushed out of the Lancaster room and into the Lobby, she was nervous and she, of course, did what she did best, she ran away, but to her luck, Tom had rushed after her. And to their luck, yes Haz and Liz had been again saving their asses. 

“Y/N,” Tom yelled. “Y/N.” 

Y/N stopped mid alley and turned to him. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Tom ran out of breath just as he stared at her. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” Tom smiled. “Uh… that was…” 

“Stupid, yes I know, I probably ruined your career, and I know… I’m sorry I’ll just-” 

But she couldn’t finish her sentence, because Tom had cupped her face and kissed her, with his other hand pulling her close to him. She melted into his touch, their sweet kiss was nothing but a way of telling each other that they could work this out. She closed her eyes and kissed him back but then quickly pulled away. 

“Tom, Tom, we should…. Talk,” Y/N said but Tom had kept kissing her cheek. “Or we can... “ He looked into her eyes. “We can… do that later.” 

Tom rushed to the lobby Tom had rushed to book a room. Tom was sweating. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked. 

“We...we need some privacy and we certainly won’t get it elsewhere,” Tom explained. His hand was on her waist. And y/n feared. Y/N was shaking, too as she looked into the hotel, as she expected a tumult running for them, they were the prey, and they were hunting for them. Tom was solving it, but y/n felt naked, as if the hunters would come for her. The wolves were waiting for her, to eat her. 

And y/n wanted to do what she did best, disappear, but Tom was willing to disappear with her. Maybe he’d felt it, too. Maybe he feared it, too. He took her hand in his. 

He licked his lips nervously. 

“And please, if anyone asks, I took a cab,” Tom begged the receptionist as he then rushed into the elevator, pulling y/n with him. 

He was sweating. 

“How did you—“

“They called me,” she showed him her credentials. 

“Right… you’re a reporter,” Tom licked his lips, and then realized he was still holding her hand. He let her go. 

Y/N looked down at their hands and nervously stared at the elevator, “you didn’t press—“

“Ah right, right,” Tom gulped as he pressed the button for their floor. Maybe this was stupid. 

“I meant everything I said,” y/n whispered. 

Tom glanced ar her and took a deep breath. “So did I.” 

Y/N bit her lips. 

“Were you going to—?” Tom frowned. “Run away?” 

“From them,” y/n admitted. “Not from you, never from you.” 

Tom finally turned to her. “For a moment I—“

“I did think about it,” y/n said. “I mean…if I’m honest I felt sick for a moment, I… spoke up in front of a bunch of people and admitted you—well, uh, I kind of admitted you’re the love of my life in front of them,” y/n admitted embarrassed. “I finally had to stop blending in with a crowd and I—“

Tom smiled cupping her cheek again. “Yeah, you did.” 

“But then I realized it, I don’t ever want to run away from you,” she whispered. “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Tom took a deep breath, and instead of answering her question as they should, he kissed her again. Because it felt like the right thing to do. His hands went straight to her waist. ‘His fingers are pressing against her back, their bodies merging into one. But the elevator stopped, they quickly let go off each other and stepped back. 

A man walked in staring at his phone. Tom cleared his throat as he glanced away from her. There was a tension, there was such an awkward situation going on. Both of them were angry, but alas, both of them didn’t want to waste any time. They had been in love with each other for 5 years now and only now they were both sure it was reciprocated. Of course they had to talk it out, they were both hurt but if they were honest, they didn’t want to keep their hands off each other. 

But finally, the elevator opened again and they were on their floor. They awkwardly walked their way out, and started l

Tom looked at her. “Eh…” he gulped. “I’m sorry for...kissing you back there.” 

Y/N blushed. “I didn’t mind.” 

Tom smiled, just slightly. 

“But uh, yeah, we… We need to talk, right?” Tom said. 

“Yeah, there’s… there’s a lot to talk about,” Y/N agreed. 

Tom walked to the room. “Yeah, we…” He looked her in the eyes, and he then stared at her lips. 

“Yeah, we need to talk,” Y/N whispered, but they were both significantly getting closer. 

In her heart, she knew this was absolutely the last thing she should be doing, but she leaned in anyway, closing the gap between their lips, scared he wouldn’t kiss her back, but he did and he pulled her closer, slotting his lips against hers, his fingers tracing down her back. 

He pushed her against the door, as her hands explored his hair. His mouth moved beyond her jaw, and his hands were walking down her body, holding her thighs. Sloppily, his wet lips traveled down her neck. She closed her eyes and her own hands were trailing down his back. 

He looked up at her, catching his breath. 

“Or we can leave the talking for later,” she said. 

He nodded quickly and clumsily opened the door, and as soon as he opened the door, y/n threw herself back to his arms. The kissing intensified, as his hands were now holding her whole body, he pressed her against the wall and she wrapped her legs around him. His hands held her legs. As he would try mounding their lips, she couldn’t help but smile and giggle. 

Tom had to pull away to look at her. “What?” 

 “I don’t know,” she giggled. “This is—different.”

“It’s not like it’s the first time,” Tom reminded her.

Y/N blushed. “I know but…” she grinned as he kissed her again. 

“No, I—I get it,” he chuckled against the kiss. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. 

She laughed as he pushed her into the bed, Tom laughed too. 

“What now?” Tom giggled. 

“I don’t know,” she grinned staring at him. “I’m sorry—I’m” 

*

Tom laid down beside her. They both started laughing. 

She turned to see him. “I’m sorry, I’m nervous.” 

He smiled at her as he took her hands in his, kissing her hand. And her lips went back to him. He grinned, and turned her around to place himself on top of her, she smiled against his lips as his hand traveled back down to her thighs, it felt cold against her, making her squirm. 

Y/N started to unbutton his shirt, making Tom grin, his own hands went up her shirt and cupped her breasts. He pulled his mouth back, tugging on her bottom lip, and he then pulled up her shirt slightly, his lips trailed down and landed on her collarbones as he sucked lightly, but his fingers traced down her stomach feather light causing her to shiver. 

She grinned and pushed back his shirt, leaving him bare chest. It was her turn to push him around, rolling on top of him. Tom’s eyes widened as her hands caressed down his chest and abs, her lips back on him, now her wet kisses melting Tom, making him moan against the kiss, as she felt a growing bulge underneath her. 

She ran her hands through his chest, slowly, staring at his body. 

She sat up as she took off her shirt, and Tom quickly snapped off her bra, without any hesitation. 

“How did you—“y/n chuckled. “Ah, I forgot you were experienced with—“

But he didn’t let her finish, as he pulled her back down and rolled on top of him. It seemed to be a game they were both trying to play, as if they were just trying to prove a point to each other. He started pushing down her pants and grinded against her, her own hands travelling back down to his pants as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. He helped her pushing down his pants and her own as she palmed down his boxers. He moaned as she sloppily kissed and nibbled on his earlobe. 

He then pulled back from her, to look into her eyes, he smiled. 

She grinned. “What?” 

“I’m just making sure you’re the right one,” he whispered as he walked his fingers from her thighs to her neck, brushing slightly, so lightly. 

She blushed, feeling her whole body warming up. “I love you.” And she meant it. 

“I love you, too,” and he kissed her, with her hands on his back and his slightly teasing her thighs, as they brushed against her panties, but they landed back on her waist as if he was trying to merge their bodies each time he kissed her. A hand finds its way back to knead her breasts and her own hands travel down to his back, pressing it lightly. 

He grinned as he trailed wet kisses down to her chest. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, y/n, you’re so beautiful,” he whsipered, as she giggled. 

His fingers ran over to her heat, where she squirmed, only teasing as they danced on top of the fabric. 

“Tommy,” the nickname slipped and she felt his smirk against her chest. 

“Tommy?” He looked up. “I’m sure I’ve never…” He chuckled. And y/n saw a part he’d never seen of Tom, he was shy. But he peppered with kisses all over the way to her mouth. 

And he kissed her again, as if couldn’t get enough of it, but it came to a point where they were only smiling. 

“Are you blushing?” Y/N asked him, 

He chuckled nervously, “maybe.” 

“I never imagined you would get shy,” she admitted as she caressed his face. He kissed her cheek.

“I—I am not…” 

“Even last time,” She grinned as she pushed his hair back from his face. 

“I—“He chuckled. “I don’t know, I—you bring in the softness in me and I’m not—“

She took a deep breath and pecked him, wrapping her legs around him. He grinned and continued to walk his fingers through her body, And he helped her pull down her underwear and she pulled down his boxers.

Tom reached over for his wallet and took out a condom. Y/N was about to ask about it. 

And it was different than the first time this had happened, it felt more intimate as he took her hands, and intertwined their fingers. He grinned as he was aligning with her, she wrapped her legs around him and squeezed his hand. He filled her up and she moaned but he slowly found a rhythm, it was sensual and they were connected. And it was completely satisfying. 

And different from what Tom had ever had before, it was slow, at times but y/n turned him around and quickened it up, and her movements, Tom swore were out of this world. And her hands traveled down his chest and her lips wouldn’t leave his neck. His hands would struggle to find its pace, touching her ass, rubbing her heat and kneading her breasts but his lips would try to find hers, and eventually they were holding hands again. 

And they were barely kissing, between moans and I love yous, and between giggles and smiles. And before they knew it they’d both reached their highs, and both their backs had arched and they had kissed. 

*

Tom laid down beside her, catching her breath, but he pulled her back to him, as sweat was streaming down their bodies, and she laid down on his chest, kissing it. 

He ran his hands through her hair and just watched her. 

“So, that’s one way of talking,” y/n whispered. 

Tom laughed, rubbing his face. “It’s way more fun than talking.” 

Y/n walked her fingers on his chest and then pecked his lips again. He smiled. 

“But we really need to talk,” Y/N said. 

“Hm, wouldn’t you rather do that again?” Tom suggested. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Tom.” 

“Well, what’s really to talk about?” He sighed. “Really? 

Y/N sighed, as she looked up at the ceiling. “I—well.” 

“Well?” Tom rested his head on his hand as he turned to face y/n who was currently hiding under the sheets.

“I was really hurt, Tom,” she admitted. “When you left, I mean.”

“I know, I was an idiot.” 

“Why did you leave, Tom? I spent all night telling you I loved you, and… Asking you to run away with me.” 

“That’s the thing, y/n, I didn’t want to run away,” he sighed. “I guessed I was scared, I thought I wouldn’t make you feel as happy because I looked back at all the pain we’ve gone through, all the tears, all the times I was not man enough to admit I loved you and every time I pushed you away if you showed any type of feelings.,”

“You knew then?” 

“I’m not sure, I guess I thought I was going crazy,” he continued. “I thought I was exaggerating or giving myself false hope, because everyone kept saying it, you know?” 

“What did they say?” 

“That I couldn’t love, that I… was only a playboy, and, most of the time, they were right,” he sighed. “I knew deep down that’s why you ran away to another country, because that’s who I grew out to be, you know?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Maybe I did it for the same reason you didn’t run away with me when I crashed the wedding,” he said. 

“Maybe.” 

“Why were you going to marry him?” 

Y/N shrugged. “I guess I got trapped in all the fantasy, and I knew I’d end up a sad wife, but I knew that I’d rather learn to love someone than admit that I had lost you forever, I really did think you had left for good.” 

“I think we both know why we ran away.” 

“Because we know each other,” y/n said. “It’s our biggest strength and our biggest weakness.” 

Tom nodded. “I can’t live without you, y/n.” 

“That’s scary, isn’t it? I guess that’s the reason as to why I put on the white dress.” 

“Why?” 

“I thought I’d be lonely without you, and I guess I thought that marrying Miguel would take away that loneliness.” 

Tom nodded. 

“And these days, everything went to hell,” y/n continued. “And even if right now we seem to be calm, I can’t help but think of all the tears I shed for you this week only, and how I had run out of reasons to stay.” 

“Do you have them, now?” 

“I do,” y/n looked into his eyes. “But I’m scared.” 

“I am, too,” Tom agreed. “And I feel like this is just another fantasy.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed as she cupped his face. “You fear it, don’t you?” 

He sighed. 

“I know what you’re scared of,” y/n whispered. “You’re scared I’ll run away.” 

Tom bit his lip. “And you’re scared I’ll find someone else.” 

Y/N licked her lips. “We’re scarred.” 

Tom caressed her hair. “I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t want to see you again.” 

“No, I know you did,” y/n said. “I meant it, too.” 

Tom’s eyes widened as he watched her. 

“We need some time away from each other,” y/n sighed. “I… I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t planning on seeing you again. I wanted to become strangers, but then I thought about it and I just don’t want to be someone you used to have a laugh with, you know? I don’t want to become a stranger whose laugh you could recognize anywhere.” 

“But maybe it’s for the best, isn’t it?” 

y/n’s eyes glazed. “I was hoping you’d say we didn’t have to.” 

“But we have to, don’t we?” Tom gulped. “And maybe we’ll find each other again, have a fresh start, fill in the blanks.” 

Y/N watched him. “It’s going to be hell.” 

“But maybe it’s for the best, Y/n, even before all of this, I feared you had run away from the hotel, and just minutes ago you were going to ask about the condom, because we fear who we are,” Tom said. 

“But we’ve proved each other wrong.” 

“Yeah.” 

“It seems stupid, isn’t it? After all this time and now that we both know about it we try to stop it,” y/n brushed his lips. “But we need to heal.” 

“And I know you didn’t get married to Miguel because you need to find yourself, and I need to find myself too, we need to heal our broken parts.” 

“Otherwise we’ll end up hurting each other more,” y/n stared at the ceiling. “And I know that asking you to love me right now would put us in big problems, both our reputations are...delicate.” 

Tom bit his lip. “We could keep it a secret.” 

“That wouldn’t stop us from hurting.” 

Tom took a deep breath. “We will find each other again, right?” 

“Yes, but until then, I’m going to miss you,” y/n kissed his cheek.

“I know,” Tom sighed. “I won’t be able to walk down the bakery again.” 

Y/n intertwined her legs with his. “I liked the past conversation better.” 

Tom laughed. “It was way more fun.” 

“But we knew this conversation was coming.” 

“I guess that’s why we both tried to avoid it,” Tom pointed out. 

Y/N snuggled close to him. “I hope I never lose you.” 

“You won’t.” 

“I’m just scared we won’t need each other anymore,” Y/N sighed. “But I know I’ll find my way back to you.” 

“This isn’t the end, y/n.” 

“But it does feel like it,” y/n sighed. “At least we can make this moment last as long as we desire.” 

Tom kissed her again. “Tonight, there are no limits.” 

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[reddie-fangirl24]

This was difficult cause WOW amazing film choices, I’d love any of the losers in the beginning scene of Cabin in the Woods? Like when they’re getting ready to leave, probably Richie as Marty the stoner and Eddie as Dana who doesn’t realize he’s having a full conversation without pants on, Beverly as Jules who just dyed her hair blonde, Ben as Curt who has to point out the pants, & Mike as Holden the hot new guy in the group?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMISSION!

I hope you enjoy the story!

This was going to be a great weekend! Eddie couldn’t remember the last time the Losers club hung out. Funny, it was strange how he didn’t remember who Ben was for a moment. Why weren’t they spending much time together ever since high school started? 

Putting that worry aside, Eddie was busy getting dressed, packing all the suitcases that he needed. He was so happy to meet at Ben’s house. If his mother found out where he was really going and who he’d be with then he’d spend the rest of the weekend locked in his room. Nothing new.

Something fell out from between the pages of one of his school textbooks. Shocked, grabbing it, Eddie looked at the drawing he made of his history teacher.  

“What a piece of shit,” a familiar girl’s voice gawked over his shoulder.

“I was in a hurry!” Eddie yelled, slamming the drawing back between the pages. He scrambled for his inhaler on the table and took a puff. His heart was already racing enough. Thank God, it was not Richie. Oh, if anybody found out about his affection for his teacher then they were going to believe he was some kind of psycho.

Beverly giggled. She missed this. It had been a while since she last met up with her best friends. Just like Eddie, she couldn’t make out Bill’s voice over the phone when he called to invite her. And she almost forgot about living in Derry before moving. 

“You know what I mean. Do you hate that teacher? I always draw out the teachers that I don’t like and stick them on the dartboard.”

Eddie groaned, his cheeks growing hot. “Um, no, you see, I drew it-” He paused when he took a look at his friend’s hair. She was no longer his ginger-haired friend. Beverly was his blonde friend! “Holy shit, your hair!”

“Very fabulous, no?” Beverly asked, showing off her short locks like a model.

“I can't believe you did it!” Eddie exclaimed.  

“But it’s nice, right?” Beverly asked, growing nervous. Even she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with the change. The other girls at school all had blonde hair. She was always an outsider among them. “Could you please say something because I’m starting to get insecure about it and - “

“Oh God, no, it's awesome,” Eddie relaxed her, touching Beverly’s shoulder. “It looks good, really. I never thought you’d change your hair.”

“It was an impulse,” Beverly shrugged, trying to get off the subject. “I woke up one morning and thought it would be a good idea. Besides, we all need a change now and then, right?”

“Bill will like it,” Eddie remarked. He knew that he had feelings for Beverly in the time when they hung out together. Bill could never stop staring at her when they were together.

Beverly snickered, “That is if he’ll notice. Ben will probably notice it before Bill,” she remarked. And then she pointed to the picture that Eddie was holding. “You should get rid of that.”

Eddie looked at the textbook in his hand. Wait, which did she mean? The drawing inside or the textbook itself. “Huh?” he tried to act dumb.

Shaking her head, and smiling again, Beverly walked over to him and pointed at his chest. “Right, Eddie Kaspbrak, Homewrecker. Please. Do you know who you are going to hook up with this weekend? A boy your age with thick glasses.

Again, Eddie’s cheeks flushed. How did she know these things? “God, that's the last thing... if you treat this like a set-up I'm gonna have no fun at all!”

Beverly set up one of Eddie’s suitcases on the bed. He had two which took up most of the floor in the room. Funnily enough, she only packed one. “I'm not pushing you to do anything. But we're not packing this!” she indicated to the textbook. 

“This means we definitely won't have room for this,” she said as she took out the drawing from Eddie and dropping it to the floor. As Eddie went after it, he heard a ‘tsk’ noise. When he looked back up, Beverly was holding two of his school textbooks. 

“Oh come on, what if I'm bored?” Eddie argued. “And my mom wants me to study!”

“‘Soviet Economic Structures’? ‘The Aftermath of the Cultural.’” She made a gagging face. “No! We have a lake! Kegl We are the Losers on the verge of wild -- Look at my hair, man!”

She did make a fair point. “It’s great...”

Just then Ben burst into the room with a football. Bill was right behind, crashing into the door as he slid into it. He was a clutz, that was for sure. Accompanying them was Stanley who was not happy about their antics. 

“Think fast! And a going Mike Hanlon who is in the outfield, or in this case, the streets!” Ben dramatized as if he were one of those football announcers. 

 “That's a letterman jacket he's wearing and yes, that's a football he's throwing right at the girls.” Bill included in the dramatization as he swiveled around Eddie’s luggage. 

He and Bill practically tore about the room, running around and knocking objects over. Beverly had no idea that they became interested in football. Especially Ben. Was he losing weight?

“Would you guys stop?” Eddie asked of them, almost jumping on his desk when Bill ran by him.

“Please, you are going to break something if you are not careful!” Stanley shouted, keeping a safe distance at the door. 

“Well, faster than that...” Bill commented, Stanley’s words going in one ear and out the other. 

“Ben!” Somebody called from out the window. Eddie glanced out the window to see Mike. It had been a long time since he saw him. Bill threw the football out the window. Jumping into the air, Mike caught it. Lucky for him, a car stopped just in time when he hopped into the street. The driver was not happy with him.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he excused himself, letting the car drive on. That was an unsafe choice for him to make in the first place. He was just so ecstatic to spend the weekend with his friends. So, he went over the curbside and waited for his friends. 

“Are you guys insane?” Stanley asked them, clashing at his hair. He looked like he was going to burst an artery. 

Understanding the circumstances, Ben nodded. “Sorry, Stan.”

Finally, Bill noticed Beverly for the first time. He froze, staring at her. What a terrible time for his mouth to dry up. “Beverly.”

She smiled. “Hi, Bill.”

“Wow, look at your hair!” Ben remarked. He never thought that Beverly would do something like this. Her ginger hair was lovely. But it was so nice to see her again.

“See, I told you that Ben would be the first to notice,” Beverly elbowed Eddie.

“N-No, I d-did notice! I uh...” Oh great, the stutter was back, too. “It’s really great to see you.”

Beverly smiled at her friends, but her heart fell. At that moment she felt how unnecessary the blonde hair was. They always accepted her for who she was. “It’s great to be back. Now let’s get this weekend started!” she ecstatically threw her arms into the air. 

“I never knew you were the type to actually take textbooks home,” Ben innocently joked. He hoped that it wouldn’t insult Beverly. When they did go to school together she was hardly ever in class. She never had the homework and quipped to the teacher that she didn’t take the textbook home with her for assignments. 

Eddie took the textbook back from Beverly. “There’s nothing wrong about taking a textbook on the trip,” Stanley commented. And then he was the one to get a look from everybody. 

“Seriously? Professor Bennett covers this whole book in his lectures. Read the Gurovsky; it's way more interesting and Bennett doesn't know it by heart so he'll think you're insightful.” Bill explained. Beverly glanced his way. Did Bill actually learn some poetic terms while she was away?

“We’d better get going,” Stanley told them, leaving the room. “Where is Richie anyway? He said that he’d be here by now!”

Eddie got all his belongings together. Richie. He was spending the weekend with Richie. They hadn’t done that in a long time. 

Before he left the room, Ben nudged him. “You have no pants.” Gasping, Eddie scrambled to get pants. He was really standing here in his underwear the whole time? Taking a puff from his inhaler, he had to relax. This was going to be a fun weekend.

“Mike! Crazy mad skills of catching!” Bill told Mike once they were outside. They gave each other a high five.

“You laid it in my hands, I did but hold them out,” Mike commented. 

“Hey, Mike! How is it going?” Beverly greeted her friend with a hug. 

“I’m great. It’s nice to see you, Bev. Wow, look at your hair,” he remarked, taking a look at her gorgeous locks. 

“Hey, Mike, how have you been?’ Eddie was next to greet him once he came out of the house. He struggled down the steps with all his luggage. 

“Great. Thank you guys for letting me join. It’s been a while since we all met up,” Mike noted. He was not going to bring up the reason for their avoidance. This weekend was not about revisiting the shadows of the past. It had been a long time since he actually had fun. Being home school had its perks, but he did not enjoy the loneliness. 

“Do you need help with your bags, Eddie?” Stanley asked his friend. He was struggling to lift his heavy bags into the trunk of the RV that Mike was able to talk his grandfather into borrowing. This thing sat in his farmland for years. Luckily, it was working fine.  

“We’re going away for a weekend, right?” Beverly joked. “It’s a weekend, not an evacuation!”

“I have packed everything that I needed in case of any dangerous predicament!” Eddie commented. “Trust me when I say there is nothing in those cases you won't be glad I brought.”

“What could happen?” Ben asked, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Tons of things,” Stanley remarked. “We could run into poison ivy, there could be jellyfish in the water, or - “

“Okay, Stan, we didn’t need an answer. Remember, we’re supposed to be having fun,” Bill reminded him. 

All that was missing was... “Oh my, God,” Eddie commented when he looked across the street to see a car parking. It was half parked up on the sidewalk, annoying to women who were walking by. 

And there was Richie Tozier, his mouth on a huge bong. He looked like he had trouble maneuvering it in the small car that he owned, hitting the horn by accident. Who’s to say that Eddie was surprised. Getting high and joking around was all Richie cared about. 

“Richie!” Beverly called out to her friend. Oh, how she missed him. She ran up and gave him a hug. But that hug only lasted a second. “Shit, you stink!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Richie?” Stanley nagged him when he ran up to his car. He looked around as to make sure the police were not around. 

“People in this town drive in a very counterintuitive manner, and that's what I have to say,” Richie giggled, obviously high out of his mind. His glasses were skewered on his head.

“Do you want to spend the weekend in jail?” Ben asked him. “'Cause we'd all like to check out my cousin's country home and not go to jail!” 

“Richie you should know for a fact that this is not okay!” Beverly was next to lecture him.

Richie took out his duffel bag.“Statistical fact: cops will never pull over a man with a huge bong in his car. Why? They fear this, man. They know he sees farther than they and he will bind them with ancient logics.” He paused, taking a longer look at Beverly’s hair. “Have you gone grey?”

His comment resulted in Beverly giving him the finger. Things hadn’t changed at all. 

“You're not bringing that thing in the rambler!” Eddie told him. 

“A giant bong, in Mike’s van?” Richie went and poured the water out. Removing the bowl, Richie sticks it in a little holder inside the tube and telescopes the entire thing down, pulls a lid off the bottom, and pops it on the top, making it look exactly like a can of Fresca. 

“What are you, stoned?” Stanley asked him, shaking his head in disbelief. Arguably, he was happy to be going on this trip. He missed their adventures.

 “As Bolde,” Richie remarked with little care.  They all rolled their eyes. Well, that was Richie Tozier for you. 

“Come on, we’d best hit the road,” Mike told them, waving them inside. “I can take the first lag. Ben, you have the directions, right?”

As they were all getting into the van, Richie elbowed Eddie. “Eds! You fetching minx? Do you have any food?”

“Don’t call me Eds!” Eddie warned sticking a finger in his face.

“Come on, you like it! You know it!”

“No, I don’t! Call me Eds one more time on this trip and I will bury you in your grave!”

This was going to be an exciting weekend alright. 

“Everybody ready?” Mike asked in the front seat. The Losers shouted in glee, throwing their hands up like they were on a roller coaster. “Then let's get this show on the road!”

[imaginebeatles]

How do I write a good smut story?

There’s no one proper way of writing good smut in my opinion, and really it’s all about writing what you would find hot to read, which is easier said then done. But you can have emotional smut, short and punch smut, or the more lingering, poetic or long-winding smut. Or just blunt straight forward, no-plot smut. Really it’s about what you like and trying to simulate that (also in terms of how you describe and phrase stuff). See what turns you on when you read and take inspiration. 

However, I can give you some pointers that might help you no matter what kind of smut you’re writing. I hope they’ll come in handy for you: 

Do not underestimate the importance of characterization. It might feel like smut doesn’t really require much characterization because it’s just sex. How much characterization can there really be. But good characterization can really add to the whole thing and make it feel more real, more charged. People react differently to different situations and the same goes with sex. People don’t all have sex the same way, and it’s so nice when you can see the characters for real when you read smut. I feel this is often overlooked, but getting characterization right and putting some effort into that can really make your smut a lot better and a lot hotter – you’re reading smut about those people specifically for a reason. 

Describe! Describe! Describe! Describe everything! This doesn’t mean you have to give long paragraphs of what exactly they are doing and describe literally everything, but sex is about (physical) sensations and emotions. Describe not only what the characters are doing, but also how it feels and smells and how things taste. Describe what they can and cannot see, what they hear, not the sounds the other character are making, but also from their surroundings (the ruffling of the bed-sheets, the creaking of the headboard, how their bodies sound sliding together, their clothes dropping onto the floor). Describe how the do everything too. What parts of their bodies they use, how quickly or how slowly, be detailed. Again, this doesn’t mean you have to put in lengthy descriptions if that’s not your style, but adding little hints of it really makes it so much sexier. Same with emotions: what are they feeling and thinking, why and what made them think/feel that? Keep it natural though. Smut should be easy to read, not a chore to get through. Basically, describe, but not to a Dickensian level ;) Keep it short! 

Emotions. Sex isn’t just about the sexual act itself. Your characters feel stuff emotionally too emotionally when they’re having sex, whether it’s kinky sex, anonymous sex, romantic love-making, anything involves emotions; negative ones and positive ones. Write about these feelings. Sex isn’t serious or all just horniness either. Make them laugh and giggle, make them make jokes, or tease each other. Or maybe they’re sad and need the other person to make them feel better, or maybe they’re angry with the person, or whatever. If they’re in love, make them be cute together. 

Think about WHY you characters are having sex. This may seem irrelevant sometimes when you just want to write something without plot, and I don’t mind you need to have a plot. But what made them have sex? This doesn’t have to be a dramatic or meanwhile thing. It can just be because they thought their partner looked sexy, or because they were sexually frustrated, or because they’re in love and they wanted to show that to the other person. But even these simple reasons can really change how a smut scene may come across and can really change the feel of the story. Now imagine if they have more dramatic reasons to have sex! As with any fic, motivation is important. 

Writing-wise, don’t use stupid euphemisms.  Call a penis a penis and a vagina a vagina or some other similar words (cunt, pussy, cock, dick, erection, hard-on, ass, hole, whatever). You’re writing smut. We know what we’re reading and what you’re referring to. These words are hot, precisely because they’re usually more taboo. Just don’t do it. They’re usually very ridiculous and can be really jarring. 

Make your characters want to have sex. Put perhaps in a better way, make them passionate. This kinda goes hand-in-hand with the emotions things, but the weirdest thing about sex scenes in book (not so much smut because there is a reason we write about these people and that relationship) is that so often it seems like they’re not even that into it? Like, if you want to have sex with someone, you desire them. You want to touch them, to kiss them, to feel them, their bodies, hear them moan and groan and feel good, or if it’s more aggressive, you want to possess them. Characters need to want each other. It’s a passionate thing to have sex with someone, not something with the same passion as your doctor giving you a prostrate exam or something. Also, show what the characters desire in each other. Show their passion. Even when you’re writing something with more dubious consent, it’s at least one person who really freaking wants it. Something as simple as undressing the other person is the most erotic thing and shows they really want the other person. If you don’t show that your characters what it badly, it just comes off as cold and mechanical. 

Try not to make your characters sound like porn actors. This is more a question of how and when characters say stuff and how often than what exactly they’re saying it. It’s difficult sometimes, because dirty talk is hot (again, it’s about passion as well. dirty talk can be a great way to have characters show they want each other), but just don’t overdo it. Tone it down sometimes. Also people make a lot of other sounds too than just yelling and screaming and saying dirty stuff. They may moan occasionally or let out tiny whimpers or just gasp or curse softly. Loudness does not always the way to go. Usually it’s not, and when characters are loud, they’re not gonna be loud right away, it’s gonna build. 

Please, please, please, do not skip foreplay and preparation. Especially when it comes to sex between two men, because you cannot fuck someone’s arse if they’re not prepared!! Spit is not sufficient lubrication (unless they have had sex not that long ago already). Nothing puts me off more when I’m reading smut than when a guy pushes his dick in without stretching the other man and using at least some kind of proper lubrication. It’s just really painful. Also foreplay is often times even hotter to read than the actual anal or vaginal sex. Don’t skip it. Let tension build. Same goes with sex between two women or a man and a woman. Unless it’s some kind of kink they’re into, dry sex is not sexy and just really painful. If you don’t want to focus on that, just a single line explaining they’re preparing the other person is good enough. 

(In addition, there is not just one way to have sex. Involve other intimate acts as well. This kinda goes along with the foreplay, but sex-sex isn’t necessary for good smut. Eroticism and sensuality can be great too. The same goes for the actual sex-sex too, which can be done in many different ways. Play around with sex! It’s supposed to be fun, after all!) 

[crowleyellestair]

Your recent Jaskier FanFiction was so beautiful! I love it! Would it be possible to request a second part with the wedding, and perhaps a possible third part with the birth of their first child? Thank you so much for writing it!! 💜

AN/// Thank you! You’re making me blush with that ‘beautiful’ stuff. Thanks for asking! And yes, I will make a part three as well. I tried, and I hope you like it

If you want to be tagged for that or any other Witcher stuff, just ask!

Masterlist

  It had only been two days, but Jaskier was impatiently pacing the length of their small homestead. He could hear the liveliness of the pub bellow, and somehow it had made him more anxious. There was a large assignment due the next day that he hadn’t started, but all he could focus on was Y/n. She had been acting out of character, and had left abruptly.

Y/n was kind enough to tell him exactly where she was going on her so called ‘business trip’, but something gnawed at his heart. He trusted her more than he could put into words. He knew that she would never be unfaithful, nor would she be vile towards any living thing, so that leaves her being on an actual business trip. The problem wasn’t her, but the world around them. Jaskier hadn’t seen Geralt in years, but he assumed that the world was just as cruel as it had been- or tenfold due to the war. Y/n was much like Jaskier in her hard headedness, but didn’t give many details when it came to what was happening.

So, there Jaskier was, pacing the floor. After a while of hip holding and talking it through, he found a seat at their desk. His eyes flew over everything scattered there, herbs, potions, ink and music covered it. So much so that he couldn’t see the actual surface of the desk. It brought a small smile to him, their separate lives colliding on this small workspace, creating a beautiful mess of them. It was poetic, and he was already working on trying to create the symbolism into something. He looked around the room, noticing that the entire place was like the desk. Sheet music scattered the floor, some hidden under Y/n’s apothecary notes. The small dresser by the door had clothes shoved into it, most of its items falling out of the drawers.

With a sigh, he got up to tidy the area. Jaskier was surprisingly the clean one of the two, but usually he was so focused on Y/n when she was around that he would tune the rest of the world out. Nothing mattered when she was with him, except her. The heartbreaks of the past and the opportunities of the future would melt away while he got sucked in to their present.

Their life right now was admittedly a hot mess. Jaskier was attending the university and Y/n was an apprentice under the town mage. She didn’t have powers, but in the words of the mage himself, “no one else is qualified to be [his] student.”

Between his classes and her endless errands, the two barely had time to see each other. The only time they had was after the sun fell out of the sky and though it would take a while to rise the next day, it still wasn’t enough.

On Fridays, however, Jaskier and Y/n would sprint to middle grounds and have lunch together. They could only spare fifteen minutes, but it was enough for them. It was enough to know that the two would try and gain more time together if they could, and it drove them both through the end of the day after a long week.

He had finished cleaning the room before plopping back down on the chair at the desk. Jaskier’s hand brushed under the table at the far end to shift the loose board there. A small pouch fell into his open palm, and he brought it into the light. In the bag was a ring. It wasn’t expensive and there weren’t any jewels in it, but he thought it was perfect. It looked to be more of a man’s ring, but he wanted Y/n to be able to wear it while she worked. If there were protruding parts, she’d need to take it off, and he hoped she never would. On the inside of the ring was an engraved flower, because he was her dandelion.

Jaskier had the ring for about a year. He actually got it before they moved into the shared stead above the pub. He was so sure that she was the one that he forgot some of the steps in between asking for her hand.

The sun falling brought on a new wave of anxiety. Y/n had said she’ be back before then, but the only noises he heard outside of the door were the students begging the barkeep to let it slide that they were students. He had made space to sit on the table itself, so he’d have a perfect view of everything outside of the window it was in front of. The darkness hadn’t helped him see any better, yet he stayed, trying to decipher faces.

When the door swung open, a smile spread over his face, but fell just as fast. The love of his life stood there, but Geralt was right behind her. His eye pierced into hers, and saw a shyness in her.

This was her business trip.

To try and lighten the air, she pushed out a soft laugh as they entered and asked,

“Why are you on the table?” Jaskier didn’t laugh or reply, his arms staying circled around his knees on the desk. There was a long moment of his blue eyes flicking between Geralt and her. Y/n looked nervous, scared even, while she looked back at him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke of Geralt, but he had remembered telling her a while ago that he missed him. Y/n dropped the bag that was slung over her shoulder, Jaskier noticing that it was actually Geralt’s bag. She motioned the Witcher to sit on the bed, nowhere else to really sit. She looked between the two, not pulling off her cloak yet.

“I’m sorry Julian. I know I said I was on a business trip, but this was important. I know it’s been months since you’ve said anything-.” Jaskier finally piped up.

“It was over a year ago.” Her shoulders sagged, and he wished he didn’t interject.

“I know, but you two were best friends.” Geralt’s brows drew together before his gravelly voice filled the room.

“So, you’ve been tracking me for over a year?” Y/n cast her gaze to the floor, a flush forming over her cheeks. A small nod could be seen, and the two men were baffled.

Jaskier’s heart hurt. He remembered telling her that if he had the chance, he would try and be friends with the Witcher again. Not necessarily travel, but he would open his arms. Putting the pieces together, he realizes that since then, she’s been looking for him. Jaskier knew she had a secret project she had been working on, but she wouldn’t tell him what it was. She had made it her mission for the last year to try and make him happy.

He was, but in that moment, all he knew was that he only needed her to accomplish that. Y/n was his key to happiness.

 Without that year of searching, Geralt wouldn’t be standing there. He thought, like he always does with everyone, that once Jaskier moved on, he would have found someone better to call his ‘best friend’. He was wrong, obviously, as he looked down to Jaskier kneeling in front of him. He looked to Y/n, who was kneeling next to Jaskier, both of them facing the priest. Geralt watched as a long tapestry wrapped around their conjoined hands, a sign of their marriage.

It was only a month ago when Jaskier had asked Geralt to be his Giver, and he couldn’t really say no. So, there, he stood behind the two, sneaking a glance at the woman standing behind Y/n, her Giver in a ceremonial physician’s cloak. Geralt hated them, but he had decided to purchase doublet and matching trousers for the occasion. Looking around, every seat had been filled, people having to stand to be there.

The ceremony wasn’t long, but like the two, it was dramatic and elegant. It took place on the edge of a cliff. The forest near Oxenfurt had an opening at the edge, the canopy of leaves refusing to grow more as if it wants the spot to be flooded with the sunset light. Logs had been fashioned into benches and leaves had fallen just so to give the illusion of an aisle. Lanterns hung from low branches, but still high enough to give a natural ceiling to the onlookers of the ceremony. Thin, shinning tule hung from higher branches, giving the trees a blurred, sparkling haze.

Geralt wasn’t surprised when he showed up in a light pink outfit. There weren’t constraints or traditions to what’s worn at ceremonies, but he assumed it was because he was showing it as a sign of comfort. Jaskier could be himself around Y/n, so why not go full out? The dusted pink doublet had gold embroidery covering it, and he had a short, white cape that hung off of one shoulder. It was a nice contrast to Y/n, who wore a blue dress. She chose the color on purpose, only accepting this color because of the resemblance to Jaskier’s eyes. She had a favorite color before meeting Jaskier, but since the first night with him laying on the guest bed, it had been his eyes. Eyes like the sea after a storm. A clouded blue, but always seeking brighter times.

The flow of the dress gave her an ethereal look, the flowing material long and loose. Her dress was different from most, as there were no sleeves or corsets, just the same material as the skirt, coming up and resting over her shoulders. Thin gold bands kept the dress to her body, looking like a pantheon goddess. She had a gold band in her hair that braids wrapped around, giving a small twinkle in the sunset haze.

The two looked perfect together sitting there. Jaskier had tuned out everything the priest had been saying, never taking his eyes off of Y/n. The bard had lost himself looking at the smile she tried to throw from her face. After the first minute or so, Y/n’s face started to hurt by smiling that big for so long, but she couldn’t stop. At one point, she looked over at him, her gaze telling him to look at the priest. When he gave a small shake of his head, her shoulder gave him a little nudge. He let out a giggle, nudging her back. Geralt rolled his eyes when he heard multiple people in the crowd give ‘awes’, but he still gave a small smile.

When the dark tapestry had wrapped around their hands, and they said binding vows, they stood. Jaskier and Y/n shared words before she giggled and gave a gentle ‘no’, before being dipped anyways. Their lips connected just as the last light of the sun peaked over the mountain line, and cheers could be heard.

When he brought her back up, she was laughing, and she lightly hit his chest. He caught her hand before it could make contact, and he brought her knuckles up to his lips. He placed the softest of kisses there, their gazes locking. Geralt watched as the world fell away, and they got sucked into just each other. People around started to converse and move, speaking of the pub under their home being open for a party, but it didn’t phase the two. They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, staring.

Geralt used to be annoyed at Jaskier for his grandiose stories of love. He would scoff at how unrealistic it is, saying fairy tales should stay in children’s hearts. He’s lived long enough to know what the world is really like. He was surprised at how even after their adventures, Jaskier would still find the brighter side of life. This was something he didn’t expect. Jaskier truly had a fairy tale ending, and Geralt was… content. He felt satisfied that his friend was so happy with his life.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and dating Charlie Dalton

(Not my gif) (requested by anonymous)

- You meet Charlie on the first day of school when everyone is saying goodbye to their parents. You were just staying off to the side and waiting for your father when Charlie spots you.

- He almost immediately decides ‘I’m going to flirt with that gorgeous girl sitting on that bench’ and gives his friends a sly look before slinking off towards you. He strikes up an amusing conversation full of charming pick up lines and compliments that make you swoon ...that is until your father; the headmaster, shows up behind him.

“I see you’ve met my daughter Mr. Dalton.”

- “Oh this is your … this is your … haha okay well I’m gonna go say goodbye to my family now. See you around y/n ...or not.” He adds on as your father sends him a glare. But the way the boy keeps turning back and looking at you as he’s walking away makes you believe this isn’t the last time you’ll see him... and you were right.

- He talks and flirts with you a lot after that. He’s pretty shameless about it although he tries to keep it away from your father considering he usually threatens him with detention whenever he sees the two of you together.

- He starts visiting you at your house after you tell him your address, hoping you can see him away from your fathers eyes. He sneaks out of Welton to sneak you out of your house more often then not.

- The boys joke and tease him about your little romance. They call you two the Romeo and Juliet of Hellton; he couldn’t be prouder.

- One night while you’re trying to sleep you hear a knock on your window. It’s Charlie of course and as you’re starting to scold him for showing up so late he pulls you into a kiss.

“Sorry, just couldn’t help myself. Come on, I have to show you something.”

- He takes you to the cave and basically tries his hardest to make you swoon. Poetry, candles, deep conversations and affection. You can’t even lie to yourself and say it didn’t work. After three more of these nighttime adventures the two of you start dating in secret.

- Your dad probably never even finds out until like a year later. He’s pissed but at that point the boy is obviously committed to you and it’s far too late to order you to dump him.

- He lets you do his makeup whenever you want. He doesnt outwardly admit he likes it but you can tell he does.

- He has a ton of pet names that he likes to use, things like babygirl, hot stuff, sweetheart or something poetic when he’s in the mood.

- Lots of innuendos and attempts to get laid; he’s only half joking when he uses them/tries. They rarely work

“So what are we doing tonight Charlie.”

“It all depends on the mood baby. Things could get pretty hot.”

“Nice try.”

- Getting your lipstick stolen. Kisses smeared in lipstick. Giggling at his stained cheeks and lips. Just a lot of stuff having to do with his interest in lipstick.

- Always coming up with ways to sneak you away and off with him. He likes the adrenaline rush it brings when you have a chance at being caught and the fact that he’s breaking the rules seems to add a certain spark to your dates. He always feels very proud when you get away with it.

- He takes all the blame if you guys ever get in trouble. It’s partly because he likes the affection and attention you give him when he gets punished.

- He loves to pester and annoy you. He always ends with a “You know you love me~”. You usually reply with “Don’t be too sure kiddo.” Which prompts him to act over dramatically offended.

- Has probably written your name on his chest and flashed you. It makes you laugh more than it makes you impressed or whatever other reaction he’s looking for.

- Really extravagant and over the top gifts. He usually enlists the boys help with getting them.

- Passionate kisses.

- Watching the sunset together; it’s just about the only time that he genuinely doesn’t try to make jokes and says something poetic without trying.

- He will fight anyone who disrespects you, like hold him back because he’s going to throw punches.

- He’s always trying to make you laugh; it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy when he brings a smile to your face.

- Laughing through kisses.

- Mid sex-

“Call me Nuwanda baby.”

“Charlie I swear to god.”

- Turns his head so when you try to kiss his cheek you end up kissing his lips. He always gives you a smug little grin after he does it.

- The boy is an attention seeker. Your eyes have to be on him like atleast 90% of the time or he will do something stupid to get them on him.

- A f f e c t i o n s t a r v e d

- Half of the dead poets society has a shitty relationship with their parents so this applys to a lot of them obviously including Charlie.

- He can fall asleep in seconds if you run your hands through his hair.

- The kind of guy to move your hand to cup his face when you’re alone together. He likes the feel of your skin against his and the soft warmth of your hands.

- Cuddling; he likes to hold your hand under his while it rests on his chest.

- His friends have to constantly hear how he has a ‘hot ass girlfriend’ and how it makes him better than them. They’re only slightly jealous.

- Dancing in the woods together.

- Sneaky kisses in the hallway whenever you come to visit your father.

- Quickly breaking apart once someone walks by. He breaks out laughing when they’re gone, you have to slap his chest to get him to stop.

- Defending him when he’s going to get really harsh punishments.

- There’s not a lot of serious moments together. It seems like every moment your together your cheeks are hurting from laughing and smiling so much.

- Plays the sax for you.

- He always tries to push people’s buttons, especially your fathers.

“Dammit Charlie put out that cigarette.”

- He’s up for basically anything you want to do. He loves a good adventure.

- Helping him with his work, which is mostly making sure he actually does his work.

- Compliments every now and again; mostly when you need them or when he’s totally in awe and doesn’t know what else to say to you.

- Speaking of: He occasionally gets tongue tied when he sees you. He doesn’t even know why a lot of the time, it just happens.

- Has probably said ‘I love you’ twice in like your whole relationship. He doesn’t like talking about his feelings or being vulnerable.

- Romantic poetry that is most likely written by really old poets. He dramatically reads them to you while twirling a rose. It’s an amusing sight to say the least, especially when he does it in public.

- Probably writes your name all over his paper when he should be writing notes. If anyone looks at it, he gives them a look that basically says ‘I dare you to say something’.

- Long hugs.

- Fights are a rare thing. They’re usually because you didn’t side with him when he was fighting with his friends.

- He’s a pretty jealous dude; he doesn’t like people messing with you. But at the same time he also tries to make you jealous when he’s in his Nuwanda phase.

- His arm around your shoulder, walking down the halls as he finger guns people and winks.

- He’s the comeback king and you’re his queen. You have competitions on who can make the other speechless.

- Leans in your doorway and watches as you get changed or do your makeup.

“Look at my beautiful girl.”

- Spontaneous dates and kisses; he likes keeping you on the edge.

- Finding cute love notes left on your pillow in the morning after he stays the night.

- He’s always there to comfort you. He doesn’t really know what to say but he’ll lay a hand on your shoulder and hug you.

- Finding flowers on your windowsill when the society has meetings.

- He’s really suspicious when you go to hold his hand in public; he thinks you’re plotting something.

- Piggyback rides as he runs down the hall.

[curious-minx]

Denis Leary is making an animated vignette series based on Dogs Playing Poker and 10 Other Pieces of Kitsch Art That Should Be Turned Into TV

KITSCH auction house tremors and stampedes.

Dennis Leary basically discovered sex, drugs and rock n’ roll with his 2015 two season FX series Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll. Leary’s always been one of those guys that can’t be beaten down  in spite of how dopey and cynical his edgy working class personal brand is. He’s got an entire deal set up with Fox, the flailing broadcasting company has placed all of their chips on a Denis with only one lousy  “N” in his name. I can’t even with this fake Irish Bostonian droid. Relish in the delicate thought process of Leary and leftover former Daily Show producer, Jim Margolis,  bringing up a Pinterest screen grab of the Dogs Playing Poker by Grand Master of Kitsch Cassius Marcellus Coolidge and money signs popping out of both of their heads. Here is a dramatic retelling of this thought process:

“Yo, get this Big D,” salivates the recently fired from Netflix Jim Margolis to Leary over a Zoom, “Fox got this Bento Box Animation Studio sitting around doing nothing but churning out animated interstitials for the Masked Singer, Paradise PD, The Prince, The Blues Brothers animated series, animated Harold And Kumar, Housebroken, The Great North, and ugh..um..Hoops..”

“I fuckin love Hoops, Jimmy! Why aren’t we pitching this on Netflix again?”

“Because Dogs Playing Poker is going to work so much better as pregame filler for live Sporting Events...on Fox.”

“Oh yeah. All of those rotten good for nothing grease monkey and lunch pail people will probably be giving each other Budweiser flavored Covid at the local saloon with these damn dog pictures hanging up. It’s like when old drunks would stay out late and watch the Flinstones at the bar, did you know that actual human male adults would sit in a town like Boston and waste away in a bar watching Flintsones. Can you believe that Johny?”

“My name is Jimmy, err Jim, but yeah Denis we’ll send you the scripts over. Any idea who we should cast?”

“Get me the hot blonde from Inspector Gadget 2, God dammit I miss Louie..are we sure we can’t get Louie back on air?”

“Afraid after Patton Oswalt dognapped his role from him in Secret Life of Pets, Louie CK has been banned from ever appearing as a talking dog again.”

“So bogus. Bobby Kelly will have to do.” Denis gets a text. “Dammit, Adam is getting all thirsty for this juicy  delicious bone. Gotta throw a  big bone to my dog Ferrera. Who else?”

“Ok. I’ll get one of those sad Daily Show losers. Um picking one at random, Roy Wood Jr. They’ll pretty much jump into anything, because John Oliver was in Love Guru they start thinking they can fail their way up.”

“I said no politics at the table! Paws off the table! This is going to be so fucking lit!”

////

Kitsch Art deserves so much more. George Lucas, retired American filmmaker, robber baron of childhoods and all around  mensch has been heavily invested in the kitsch art of Norman Rockwell. There are a bounty of stories to tell. Too many of them are far too white and basic, but there are rich narratives to be found in his out of date even for his own time romanticism of The Old Masters. Hopelessly out of date could have been a failing of Rockwell, but his politics grew progressive as his career went on and fought against the system. Cassius Marcellus Coolidge is the man that operated the first bank in Antwerp, New York  had the astronaut-like grace to wonder, “what if dogs played poker like people played poker?” A painting that dates back to 1894 used as means to sell cigars. What strikes me most about this painting is that they aren’t wearing clothes, but I bet when you try to imagine the painting you imagine these dogs fully decked out in some sort of work coat. There is a further anthropromized version of the ad called “His Station and Four Aces” that depicts a glimpse at a look at an entire canine furry society. His ideas of putting an animal in clothes remains to this day one of the most novel and surefire commercially friendly means of artistic expression. The original cynical man laughing all the way to the bank, his own bank that he founded to boot.

Seen above: An example of a Comic Foreground that also demonstrates the failings of having too few people in your party to properly partake in the comic foreground experience. 

“Cash” Cassius wasn’t the first man to imagine a domestic pet in people clothes, but he’s probably one of the few to do so with such commercial finesse. The man also at one point filed the patent on the “Comic Foregrounds,” which is the technical name of one of those carnival boards with holes to stick your head in. In post Covid times how many more heads will be salivating and rushing towards those holes to pop their heads in to create a lasting memory, if only for a second. So when I start learning more about this remarkable weirdo Cassius Coolidge, a man according to his official website dogsplayingpoker.com’s Biography: “Trying to chase mischievous boys from an abandoned house, he fell from a window and hurt his knee, leaving him injured for the rest of his life.”

Flash forward back to 2021 and Denis Leary and his career a man with a wikipedia with fun entries about all the accusations of plagiarism and hate speech against autism I start to worry about the legacy of more Kitsch art falling into the hands of other greedy and desperate TV executives. That being said if you are a greedy TV executive who happens to be a maniac that likes reading rando’s tumblr pages do I have a list for you!

TOP TEN PIECES OF KITSCH ART THAT SHOULD BE TURNED INTO SOME KIND OF SOMETHING

“We Are Having a Heavenly Time” Columbian Bike Monkey and Parakeet by, once again, Cassius Coolidge

Coolidge’s anthropomorphic foresight strikes again! This time he effortlessly establishes a captivating duo that could be easily voiced by an endless combination of celebrity voice actors. PAUL RUDD as “Monkey” and ISSA RAE as “Parakeet” present “We Are Having a Heavenly Time” present a travel show. You could basically use whatever leftover footage you have lying around from the many Conan O’Brien segments and plug Monkey and Parakeet and their trusty bicycle anywhere for an irreverent glimpse into the foreign World around us.

2. “Clown and The Girl” by Haddon Sundblom  

Now I know what you’re thinking, that title is miserable! I agree, but with a little  reverse engineering you get The Girl and Clown, which could be a whole new addition to the Girl on a Train, Girl with a Dragon Tattoo, Girl with a Dangly Earpiece, the Girl-Verse! The girl appears to be quite fearless of this clown, which is good because we need someone to be brave for when the clown takes off his mask.

Sundblom is also the original artist for the Coke a cola Santa Claus and how is it that we have gone this many rotations around the sun without a single Coke a cola Santa Claus special is the real reason why Christmas will always be the saddest time of year.

3. “Clean Your Fornasetti” based around the artistic Plate collection of Pierro Fornasetti 

Muk bangs, videos of people eating are a huge cyber traffic boom. People love watching people eat. Why not add the element of surprise by what kind of playful Fornasetti chanteuse is hiding underneath this plate full of gruel? Fornasetti is an artist with over 11,000 items created in his name and over 500 of them are based around a variety of expressions of a single woman. Clean Your Fornasetti is a deep and poetic rumination of the romance between the act of someone cleaning their plate and the reveal that the plate contained a visual feast all its own.

4. “Mickey’s Kinkade Playhouse” by the one and only Thomas Kinkade

The Kinkade Studios features over 63 “narrative panoramas” featuring Disney characters, but largely Mickey and Minnie, simply vibing. It’s time we stop pretending that small children like Mickey Mouse and market him for wistful older audiences that want to radiate in a nice long warm bath of color and sound. I am not sure I am even pitching an actual series but more of a Narrative Panoply. One thing that is missing from Disney Plus, and streaming services in general, is a severe lack of programming frills and flourishing. The iconic Adult Swim bumps are something completely lost to the dustbins of programming history left to remain in youtube compilations. Thomas Kinkade is a lot like Enya. Art critics treated him like a comedic punching bag for so long, but I doubt there’s an artist that grasps the kind of sterile enchantment people want after a long day of opioid benders. We’re all trapped inside doing puzzles why not do the bare minimum of slightly animating a pleasant scene of Mickey and Minnie roasting marshmallows or enjoying a breath of fresh Alpine air?

5. “Dust Lickers” by Odd Nerdrum

Quick! Get me Trash Humpers’ Harmony Korine on the Line Show him Shit Rock! The world of Odd Nerdrum is a harsh and primeval one that would make for an astonishing animated landscape. Odd Nerdrum himself feels like a worthy subject of some kind of documentary based around his imagery and insistence on making his art in the most arcane and old fashioned methods possible. Once again, maybe the visual world of Odd Nerdrum may not make for a full on narrative series, but once again would make for one hell of an animated segment.

6. “Homemade Pasta” by John Currin 

A cozy Queer slice of life cooking drama based around the two charming fellows of John Currin’s Homemade Pasta scene. A series of vignettes based around the completely unfabulous and domestic version of bliss that was denied many people as a result of the AIDS crisis. You can’t tell me you don’t see those two nice guys getting cozy and making pasta together and you aren’t dying to see how they go about rolling out their own focaccia bread.

7. “The Velvet Elvis” by the Collective Conscious 

David Lynch at one point in time was trying to crack into making his own Elvis biopic. I think it’s pretty safe to say that the age of a public wanting a David Lynch directed Elvis biopic has probably passed, but that does not stop Velvet art enthusiasts. TheVelvetStore.com is featuring a remarkable promo that could really bump up what a David Lynch Elvis movie could be like and the horror of having one’s soul trapped inside of a Velvet Elvis rendition painting seems like a pretty fertile place to begin a proper story about Elvis in America. 

8. “Big Eye Bunch” by Margaret Keane 

Yes, it was only a matter of time before Ms. Big Eyes herself, Queen of Kitsch, Margaret Keane would come up on a list like this. Tim Burton tried and sort of kind of captured what it so endearing about Keane’s work, but I think a fully animated dive into an orphanage full of sad Big Eye kids that time travel and meet other Big Eyed children version of historical figures is a Big Idea that could make a whole new generation keen on Keane.

9. “Banality” by Jeff Koons

An animated series based around the artistic sensibilities of Jeff Koons would be a tricky affair, but just the kind of gaudy whimsy that someone like Michel Gondrey could use to proper effect. A series based around someone trying to steal the fifteen million dollar Michael Jackson statue would also be appropriate.

10. “Groovenians reboot” by Kenny Scharf

Scharf is the only artist on this list that actually was a kitsch artist that caught the attention of early aughts adult swim. A tv show that only features the artistic sensibilities of Scharf but also a voice acting cast that consisted of Paul Reubens, Rupaul, Vincent Gallo, and Dennis Hopper. There’s also a theme song performed by the B-52s and musical direction by Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh. One of the only known published reviews of the pilot describe the show as needing mind altering substances to enjoy and that it is essentially like “watching a cartoon reflected off of a funhouse mirror. This is basically a description of the modern tik tok addled twitchy type content that makes a killing on the Internet for millenial and zoomer types. Basically the whole aesthetic of a warped and broken looking cartoon is the exact sort of thing weirdos deep diving at youtube at four in the morning are looking for and seeing that this gets a failed pilot and Denis Leary’s Dog Poker vignettes get greenlit is exactly what’s wrong with the world.

[sentfromwolves]

oc prompt game .  ( queen of the meadows. uselessness / mars & laurel ) 

< hoes b4 bros >

hwa: mom

hwa: mom

hwa: mom

starmom: son wuat the fuck its 4am

hwa: o fuck i forgot timezones again

hwa: wait

hwa: why r u up ! !!  

hwa: MOM

hwa: go 2 SLEEP

starmom: no now im here and awake and alive enough whats up son

hwa: mom we need an intervention (go 2 sleep)

starmom: jesus christ

starmom: for who

hwa: mars said he wants 2 marry the dude from his plant class (seriously!! GO. TO. BED)

starmom: that class started literally 2 days ago

hwa: I KNO!!!!! (pls, mom, for the love of everyone around u and also me, get some sleep)

aspen groans and rolls over in his bed, peeling himself away from his sheets and staring groggily at his phone. it’s not unlike mars to get fleeting, would-be crushes on other green witches in his classes. usually he’ll ogle them for a day or two, wax poetic about their ass, and then move on. he’s a tall kid with a heart of goddamn gold, and wears every single emotion he ever owns on his sleeve. it’s caused trouble more than once, but generally he’s pretty good about loving, and realistic expectations, and knowing that you can’t marry a guy you met two days ago. frozen proved that much, if nothing else.

still, he cracks open the door to his room and sidles down the hall and peeks up the stairs. there’s no movement, but something clinks in the kitchen that connects to the living room, and he ambles in that direction, wondering what he’ll find. maybe yonghwa had also been texting cobalt, who is a habitual night owl. maybe cobalt is also in on this intervention thing too. after all, their witch bonds are stronger than most. when one of them feels something too strongly and doesn’t clamp down on it, often times the others will feel it too. and aspen knows that most of them have been feeling pretty ecstatic over the last few days, the stress mitigated by the unbridled adrenaline and raw energy of diving back into classes, into a sea of new faces and old as the new semester cracks open like an eggshell suspended above all of their heads.

what he finds isn’t cobalt hunched over the fridge with three popsicles sticking out of his mouth (a regular occurrence during summer). what he finds is mars draped over the living room couch holding his hand over his forehead dramatically, a spoon hanging from his fingers and a half-empty jar of gelato (his gelato, aspen realizes with a little bit of exasperation), looking like he’s ready to be painted by a young leonardo dicaprio.

“um,” aspen says, “you okay in there, buddy?”

“aspen,” mars says. “can you marry a guy you just met?”

goddamn it. they really do need an intervention.

“no, mars,” aspen says with all the patience of a man who just woke up at 4am because his witch family are being dumbasses. “you can’t marry someone you just met.”

“fuck,” mars says, and sits up. “okay, plan b.”

“plan b?”

“i’m gonna ask him on a date.” mars looks fiercely determined. so determined, in fact, that aspen breaks out into a laugh that threatens to wake cobalt up from his dead slumber upstairs.

“what?!” mars demands, his voice pitching high. “what’s so funny?”

“it’s just,” aspen says. “no, you know what? i’m not even going to say it. okay, so you’re gonna ask - “

“hot greenhouse man,” mars says dreamily.

“you’re gonna ask hot greenhouse man on a date,” aspen says. “cool. and how are you gonna do that?”

mars face drains of all color. because for all of his open-hearted adoration for people, his poetic compliments, his easily obtained sincerity, mars has never asked a person out before in his life. in the realm of dating, he’s as good as useless, and aspen’s gonna let him flounder a bit in the blind, desperate hope that he learns how to swim.

“i’m,” mars says, sputters, and says again, “i’m gonna figure that out. right. now.”

“cool,” aspen says, planning for the inevitability of mars chickening out by the time the sun has risen in the sky. “i’m going back to bed while you do that. wake me up when there’s breakfast being made.”

mars, in fact, wakes him up later on when breakfast is (rather poorly) made.

he also tells him that he knows hot greenhouse mans name courtesy of one of his rather nosy, gossipy friends.

his name is laurel. and aspen is worried he’s going to break mars heart.

***

aspen doesn’t have to worry for long.

the moment he meets laurel, he knows that this is as good as fate crashing into his living room floor and starting a forest fire. laurel has the fucking heart eyes of the century every time mars back is turned, and for all of their early floundering, he’s a good soul with a cute smile and (currently) light blue hair that fluffs up to minty green whenever he gets excited or happy.

however, there is one big problem. the biggest fucking problem in aspens world. something that keeps him up late at night, staring at his ceiling, asking the universe how two people can be so stupid that it’s almost funny for everyone involved except it really isn’t because how is he, the good samaritan stuck between a rock and two love-struck people so dumb about the feelings of the other that they don’t even know how to act, supposed to sleep soundly when he can’t knock the minute amount of sense into his best friends head to do the right thing?

the right thing, of course, being to ask one another on a date.

“three months,” yonghwa says on the phone with him one night. “aspie, it’s been three months and neither of them have asked each other out?”

“i know,” aspen moans, hitting his head against his desk, hands in the air. “i know! they’re both like, oh wow, look at this beautiful friend i made. and then mars waves him out of the house, turns around, and starts screaming because he’s so fucking in love! how can he not just - just ask him out? how is this hard?”

“listen,” yonghwa says, “i’ve seen one whole picture of them together and i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone look at mars the way laurel looks at mars. that guys whipped. and he’s not even gonna ask him out?”

“they’re dense, hwa,” aspen bemoans, lifting his head. “dense as bricks. denser than bricks. it’s like the cauldron gave them all the good looks in the world and then was like, hey you know what? good looks? well then i guess you can’t have any braincells around each other!”

“could you,” yonghwa asks, “could you like, give them a nudge? a push? a kick in the ass? throw them off a cliff.”

“i’ve tried everything,” aspen says, and looks up at his computer screen. yonghwa is bent over, painting his toenails as he speaks, the glittery polish he’s using apparently magically scented with blackberries and vanilla. “i straight up said, now is your chance mars, go ask him out! and he just looked at me like this deer in headlights. what if he says no, he said. what kind of bullshit!”

“useless,” yonghwa says, blowing on his big toe. the enchanted blow dryer aspen had sent him for christmas dances around his head, drying out his recently dyed silver-purple hair. “i wish i was there. i would just do it for them.”

“i wish you were here too,” aspen says, breaking from his complaints to let his words flow with genuine fondness. “i’m excited for when i can finally have you back here for real. i miss you.”

“i miss you too, aspie,” yonghwa says, and smiles up at him through the camera. “it’s only a while longer. and then the whole family will be together.”

“not quite,” aspen grumbles. “laurel should be part of this family. hell, he spends enough time over here that he should be on my chore wheel.”

“ah yes, the chore wheel,” yonghwa says sagely. “you should just add him. maybe they’ll finally get the hint.”

“no,” aspen says. “they’re both fools in love. i really don’t know what to do.”

yonghwa tilts his head thoughtfully.

“maybe,” he says, “they just need to suffer a bit more, and then they’ll figure it all out.”

“maybe,” aspen replies, but he really doesn’t think so, but he pulls all of his blind hope and shoves it into that one, tiny word.

***

one month later, aspen snaps.

it starts on a friday afternoon, when he hears the door bang open and closed, and a wail reaches his room where he’s trying desperately to finish a lit essay while talking with emerson about latin translations and books that he wants to set on fire.

“i gotta go,” aspen says, glancing behind him at his door.

“gotcha,” emerson, “wanna come over and dramatically recite shakespeare with me while i pretend to care about grading these papers?”

“please,” aspen says, “i think i’ll need it.”

“cocoa or tequila?” emerson asks knowingly. “or do you want some sort of bliss tonic? I think we have some leftover from the party.”

“cocoa,” aspen says, “i love you. talk to you later.”

“doors unlocked!” emerson calls after him before he ends the call.

in another life, aspen thinks, he’d ask emerson out on a date. but harper is madly in love with him, and aspen is madly in love with harper, and so he stays out of both of their paths, knowing better than to get in the way of something that could be wonderful for the two of them.

sighing, aspen closes his laptop, stands up, and prepares for the worst.

mars is on the kitchen floor.

aspen fights two spontaneously grown thorn bushes, a snapper plant that descended from the ceiling to eat his hair, and three rows of angry, bushy cactuses that have since surrounded the open dishwasher and its surroundings with all the grace he can muster.

mars doesn’t so much as move or bat an eyelash at him when he comes to stand at his head. he’s face down on the granite, arms splayed out in front of him, and he looks, quite frankly, like he’s just keeled over and died in the middle of the day.

aspen does the nice thing.

he kicks him (gently) in the head.

mars lets out a pathetic cry.

“what happened,” aspen says, and it’s not a question.

the only other time mars poisoned the whole kitchen with toxic plants, it had been because someone had called him a giraffe and he’d cried all the way home. he’d been seventeen at the time.

mars rolls over onto his back and stars up at aspen. he’s on the verge of tears.

“oh my god,” aspen says, crouching down. “baby.”

“aspen,” mars croaks. “i’m a dumb person.”

“oh my god,” aspen says. “no you’re not, mars. tell me what’s wrong.”

he sits down gingerly, ignoring the cactuses around them, and mars scoots up a little so he’s laying with his head in aspens lap as aspen brushes his fingers through the boys hair.

“i really like laurel,” mars says, like it hasn’t been painfully obvious for four months now. “like, really, really like him.”

“yes,” aspen says. “i know.”

“cool,” mars replies, staring glassy eyed at the ceiling. “so today, i go into the greenhouse early because like, i’m planning to give him this cactus i found down at the gardens to laurel, because the needles don’t hurt at all and make little bubbles when you tickle the head.”

“okay,” aspen says.

“and there he is,” mars says, lifting his hands to the ceiling like he’s looking at heaven and laurel is up there somewhere too. “beautiful. haloed in light. perfect. the most amazing guy i’ve ever been blessed with. and he’s getting kissed by some other dude.”

okay, that’s a hold up. laurel? kissing another man?

“are you sure?” aspen asks.

laurel has been madly in love with mars for months. this story doesn’t make any sense.

“yes!” mars exclaims. “like, the cutest fucking gesture and he’s just sitting there, laughing as it happens! and i’m sitting there with this stupid cactus like, oh! that’s why he never asked me out. he must’ve been like, dating this hot dude this entire time and was just taking - what, i don’t know - pity on me or something! i look stupid.”

mars actually wails at this.

“i’m a dumbass!”

aspen frowns.

“no,” he says, leaning down to kiss mars forward. “you’re absolutely not a stupid person, mars. you’re the best, sweetest, greatest person i know. and if that’s really true - which i’m not saying it is - then laurel is missing out on something incredible.”

“but i don’t want him to miss out,” mars says, and sobs.

“i know,” aspen says, immediately planning either murder or the biggest fucking Mom Talk he’s ever going to have in his life. “i know, baby. you’re the best thing i’ve ever had in my life. and you deserve the stars.”

***

the stars hiss at aspen the moment laurel makes it into their front garden, telling him hurriedly that the boy he’s been waiting on to arrive is finally here.

aspen checks his watch.

cool, three hours since mars breakdown.

enough time for aspen to school all of his emotions into neat little lines and prepare for whatever the fuck is about to happen downstairs. as requested, cobalt is diligently distracting mars upstairs with video games and an ongoing call with yonghwa, who’s hollering memes at them while dancing to the ponytail song aggressively.

aspen goes downstairs and opens the door.

laurel is standing on his porch looking wildly out of breath.

“is mars here?” he asks, all of his words blending together into one massive slur.

“amazing,” aspen replies. “you’re both useless.”

laurel freezes.

“um,” he says, very eloquently. which is great, because aspen doesn’t have time for him to go on any sort of ramble that dodges the point. aspen’s nonexistent love life might be a hot garbage fire that he’s given up controlling, but he’s not about to let mars go down in flames over what he hopes and prays is a misunderstanding of cosmic proportions.

“no,” aspen says, shutting laurel’s mouth with an audible click. “nope. don’t talk, laurel. it’s my turn. i get to talk now. mars is upstairs, by the way. my kitchen is a nightmare. and if this conversation doesn’t go right, i’m going to make you clean every single cactus out of my dishwasher before you leave.”

“what?” laurel asks, dumbly.

“listen to me very carefully,” aspen says. “mars likes you a lot. he might even love you, and for mars, that’s a monumental thing. he’s wanted to ask you out since he met you. he’s so far down the rabbit hole of affection for you that i don’t think his heart has room for literally anything else.”

laurel sits there gaping like a fish out of water. jesus christ - had he really been so dumb?

aspen tries to boil down every strand of exasperation in him.

“today,” he says, “even after months of friendship, you kissed someone else in front of him.”

“i - what?”

“don’t ‘i - what’ me, mars was crying on my kitchen floor for two hours because of this,” aspen says. “if you really didn’t notice that he was madly interested in you and you were just wanting to be friends, then i might be able to forgive that when mars recovers. and that’s a big if. but if you were leading him on, thinking it was cute to have him fawn over you while stringing him along, i will personally - “

“waitwaitwait,” laurel says, loudly, holding out his hands. “wait, aspen! please!”

aspen frowns at him, in what he hopes is his best scolding mom stare.

“you have five seconds,” he says, “go.”

“this is a whole, big, wild misunderstanding!” laurel says, so loudly his voice has to carry out through the whole house. “the guy that kissed me was one of my old frat brothers! he was just coming by to say hi! he’s got a girlfriend and a boyfriend for godsake! it was just - just platonic. i don’t feel that way about anyone but mars! i’ve wanted to marry that guy for months now. literally marry him! i’ll even get down on one knee - “

laurel is jumping down onto the ground before aspen can stop him, even as he rushes forward, trying to stop this mess of a man from also destroying his house with blooms of crazy fucking plants. he can already see the dirt around his front yard sifting, little tendrils of greenery poking on through.

“laurel!” aspen says, loudly. “laurel, please - “

“i love him!” laurel shouts. “please, aspen. i really love him! can i see him? i can explain it all, really, i just want to see - “

“laurel?”

aspen turns around.

mars is standing in the hallway, illuminated in the soft gold of the fairy lights floating around the ceiling, swimming like snakes above their heads.

he looks stunned and a little bit awkward, his massive cardigan slouching off of his shoulders, hair a mess, eyes tear-streaked and nose rudolf-red.

“mars,” laurel says, from his kneeling position in front of aspen. “mars.”

he stands up and aspen moves out of the way. laurel crosses the hall to mars and without hesitation, takes mars face in his hands and kisses him hard on the mouth.

aspen feels like he’s part of a korean drama. he thinks he must be at the season finale, because how could anything in his life get more dramatic than this?

“oh my god,” cobalt says from the stairway, holding his phone up and videotaping the entire thing. “they really are useless in love.”

aspen knows he should say something, because the whole hallway is filling with cherry blossoms and red roses, massive lilies and blooming sunflowers. but for a moment, he just sits down hard, and agrees with cobalt’s assessment. mars and laurel are useless in love.

but their love is more gorgeous and brilliant than anything aspen has ever seen before.

and how could something so beautiful be useless at all?

come ask my flower prompt questions here!

[demoncryptspanties]

Time after time

Part 4

Masterlist, part 1, part 2, part 3, 

A/N There are a couple linking issues between parts so if you can't find it just type the title in the search bar. Thank you guys for reading x. 

Hilda had filled you in on the situation, but you hadn’t the opportunity to see Ambrose at all. The council had kept him in a holding cell of sorts until his trial and you had been questioned and dismissed by the council just as Hilda and Zelda had. Being unable to be present during the trial itself had meant that Hilda, Zelda and you had been stuck in the house for 3 days. With little to do and knowing this was the time of his actual trial, you paced around the living room. Having been unable to relax at all, you were antsy and panicked just wanting to see him.

You maybe burst into tears twice out of the blue, Hilda rushing to console you while Zelda made another cup of tea. That is why it was such a relief when there were two knocks on the door, guards from the council. 

The guard opened a letter before reciting its contents to the three of you. “The verdict itself will be at midnight. Nothing you do or say will change that fact or the verdict. At his final request, until a decision is made, he is to remain here. If any attempt is made by him to run or disappear, he will be held in his cell indefinitely and will face execution or life sentence, on top of the results of the verdict.” 

Once he had finished you shook your head lightly and attempted to look behind them. They stepped into the house and out of the way revealing a very shaken looking Ambrose.

The feeling of him in your arms again seemed to be instant, whether you or him at run to each other was unknown. When he finally did separate from you, the aunties pulled him into hugs of their own. However, the happy moment was brief, interrupted by all your feelings of anger and disappointment.

“What the fuck Ambrose,” you whined, eyes glassy again.

“Not that I want to use the same language but yes. What the fuck indeed,” Zelda said with a small huff and a shake of the head. She walked away leaving a very antsy Hilda.

“Perhaps you should eat something dear. Before the verdict,” Hilda tried to smile but the action was lost just as quickly.

You moved your hand to your hip glaring at him until he decided to speak up, “I’m sorry it was stupid.”

The sound of his voice as relieved as it made you, also seemed to ignite a fire in your stomach. “You’re sorry that’s what you have to say. It was stupid. Are you mocking me? It was beyond stupid, where did you even get the idea. Who gave it to you? I get in passing, ha it would be fun to blow up the Vatican but to plan it out, to actually want to do it. What is wrong with you. What were you thinking, that it would all turn out okay because it clearly hasn’t?” Your tears were freefalling by now, the anger making you lose your self-control and start desperately gasping for air.

Hilda went to comfort you, Ambrose, as well until the sad look in your eye stopped him. He let Hilda try to calm you for a moment and then proceeded to sit down next to you, pulling you into his arms. You snuggled into him until your breathing levelled out. Wiping your eyes, you gave him a quick peck and pulled him closer to you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break down. It’s been a hard couple of days. I should be the one comforting you,” He let out one of his signature chuckles kissing the top of your head.

“No, you were right. You should be angry at me. I didn’t think at all. Of anything of anyone.” He held you there for another couple of seconds before Zelda had called him to the kitchen. He untangled himself from you, Hilda handing you some hot water as you two sat on the couch.

“This next couple of hours is going to be hard for him,” Hilda said softly

“I know. I’ll do my best to comfort him.” You sighed. “Perhaps you should make him some comfort food,” she seemed to perk up with the notion, walking to the kitchen just as Ambrose walked out.

He stood in front of you unsure of what to say. You gave him a soft smile and started the conversation instead “So how was your time in Rome, besides the whole blowing up the Vatican.”

Your inviting gaze had him launch into a series of anecdotes about all the people he had met and what he had done. You continued talking until whatever Hilda had cooked was ready and then through the diner itself. It was only when it was the two of you again that you both stopped. Your smiles faded as you lay in the middle of the room. With both your eyes focussed on the ceiling there was no need to pretend for one another.

The atmosphere had shifted drastically after this, with time looming forward with the threat of the verdict everything became sadder and more meaningful. You opted to sit in silence for a while, neither of you keeping an eye on the clock in the corner. It seemed that you were both going to continue with this until the verdict but then he jumped up with great urgency, shaking his head as if trying to talk his way out of something. 

“Where are you going.” You asked eyebrows cocked in confusion, looking up at him from your spot on the floor. 

“To write my last will and testament.” He replied; his eyes were wide his breath coming shorter.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic Ambrose” You answered, getting up and pulling him towards you. You gave him a soft peck holding his gaze. He sighed deeply and pulled you into a hug.

“They could kill me because I didn’t give them up.” He mumbled into your shoulder.

“They won’t you know that. You know I respect you for that. I think it was honourable.” You said, kissing the skin just above his robe on his neck.

“Honour isn’t exactly revered in our culture Y/N” He pulled you away from him, looking deep into your eyes.

“You can just say you’re scared you know. Or cry, or both. I won’t think any less of you.” He pulled you away from him so that you were standing at arm’s length. He sunk on the bed, gesturing for you to join him, which you did. You moved into his arms and he held you tight, not wanting to let go. You didn’t know what happened at the trial and you didn’t want to. You knew what he needed and that was comfort, it was you. That was only further confirmed when you heard soft sobs coming from him as his breath became deeper and more desperate.

When he calmed down his face was buried in your chest. He pushed away from you and hold your gaze. “If they choose to execute me, I don’t want you to be there.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me. They won’t execute you; you didn’t go through with it. It was a conspiracy to blow up the Vatican not the act itself.” You said trying to reassure you.

“I suppose, the decision is at midnight as you know so we will find out soon.” He seemed more relaxed than previously; his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Well that is in a half hour I would prepare yourself.” You pulled him upwards, eyes not giving anything away. Not the fear you were feeling for him or the sadness of the whole situation.

“I am prepared.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. It seemed more for you than anything else.

He left not shortly after, with a brave face and promise to come back to you which he did 3 hours later; they had decided that he would be on house arrest indefinitely. Although that now eliminated the problem of execution it proposed a new issue. The fact that he had promised to travel with you forever, that you would experience all the culture and try not to miss anything. He felt as if he was breaking a promise but of course, that was not logical, it wasn’t his fault.

You had welcomed him with open arms, the two of you gorging on fruits and wine again, reminding you both of better times. By the time the two of you had finished and settled down, it was mid-morning. He was wine drunk, you choosing to stop before you lost your sense of self.

“You know how much you mean to me Y/N. My universe is you.” He whispered, sounding as if he was afraid of waking something.

“That was rather poetic Ambrose.” You smiled at the ceiling.

“You know I’ll never leave you.” He reached for your hand and held it tightly.

“I mean you can’t even if you wanted to now.” You both chuckled, him going into full-blown laughter before settling down just as quickly. “I’ll always come back to you. Whenever you need me, no matter what happens” 

“Marry me Y/N,” he asked, completely serious, the easy smile absent from his face. You were both lying in the middle of the room looking at the ceiling as if there was a world to be seen there. He got up and stumbled towards something, handing you a small box before settling back down next to you.

You were still dazed, twisting the wooden carved box in your hands as if it would explain itself. “Ask me again in the morning,” you offered a smile playing on your face that he couldn’t see, too engrossed in the ceiling, “But know I would say yes.” 

You pecked his cheek setting the box back where he got it from and joined him. The two of you sat in silence, for the most part, you making small apparitions for him to look at before he drifted off. You let him rest not waking him when his aunties tried to get him to eat. Choosing to spend time with them instead of going back to Ambrose, you revealed his proposal with worried eyes. Although he had been asleep the whole day, the anxiety that he would forget was too much for you.

“Dear, the more you think about it the worst you are going to feel. He had the box prepared he was probably just waiting for a good time to do it.” Zelda said over her cup tea.

“What happens if there isn’t a good time for a while. Even years and now I know that it’s there.” Your shoulders slumped more than before.

“Well hint at it” Zelda offered.

“I don’t want to push him. Something huge just happened I want him to be ready and not just propose to me because of change.” You sipped your tea slowly savouring how sweet it was due to the copious amounts of sugar you put in it. “In all honesty now would be the worst time to do it, maybe in a year or so.” You sighed deeply before exclaiming “Judas priest I don’t know” 

Ambrose chose to walk down at that exact time. The atmosphere had changed and the three of you were silent. He walked towards you with a slight frown before kissing your head. “Good morning aunties is something wrong.” 

“Nothing at all dear,” Hilda answered, her usual smile on her face. 

“Would you like to have a bath after I eat something” Ambrose whispered to you while he was preparing a sandwich.

You hummed into your tea, deep in thought. He seemed to catch on because he massaged your shoulders gently, kissing your cheek. “Do you want to talk about something later”

“Shouldn’t I be worried about you. No, I’m fine,” You smiled at him, but he didn’t seem to buy it. “How are you feeling?”

“Glad I’m not dead, or in jail.” He was still on the high of the previous day, the implications of his sentence not yet sinking in.

“I’m glad, I’m going to go and run that bath, join me when you want to.”

You had about 5 minutes in the tub alone before he joined you, slipping into the space behind you. “You know that I love you, Ambrose.” You said reaching for his hand in the water.

“Of course. Do you want to tell me what the problem is?” He said softly near your ear.

“It’s just, the emotions from yesterday. I’m just tired” You leaned into his chest, the candles proving a smell that only made you calmer.

“You’re everything to me Y/N,” He said tracing sigils into your thigh with his free hand. 

You savoured the moments of serenity and engaged in meaningless chatter about his time away from you in Rome and yours here in Greendale with your sister. You knew there in that moment that you regretted nothing, not your status with your old coven or your relationship with your parents. It was all worth it, he was all worth it.

The coming days had been similar, in a state of bliss for the two of you until it came to the trip you had organised with your sister months ago. It was to place a few towns over, a getaway that Ambrose was supposed to come with you on.

In the night with you two huddled together he encouraged you to go pretty forcefully. Saying that you had booked this, weeks in advance and it would be a waste if you didn’t go. You did, kissing him on the doorstep and running towards your sister’s car. You waved him goodbye, as you drove away excited for the week to come but also upset that you were leaving Ambrose unwillingly.

Your sister reassured you the whole way through the week, the two of you able to relax and have fun but you missed him dearly, the new circumstance meaning more than usual.

He seemed fine when you got back, a little clingy but otherwise fine. Your absence didn’t seem to anger him, and he didn’t seem envious. It was a week until you actually had a conversation about his situation.

“Y/N, you know how I can’t leave here.” He said matter-of-factly. He had rehearsed this speech anticipating your reactions.

“For the time being,” your eyebrows were furrowed when you looked to him.

“Well, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. We made a promise to travel before this whole situation. I want you to do that. Before you say I don’t dictate your actions, I know. I am asking as someone who loves you dearly to travel. I know you will always come back and send letters. I don’t want you to miss out. The sentence was indefinite, it could mean forever.” He took a deep breath, seemingly pleased with himself.

“Okay. You seemed to have made up your mind I’m not going to fight over this. You’re right, I want to travel but a lot of it was I want to do it with you. You can see the world through my eyes. We’re both writers, we’ll figure it out” He pulled you into a tight embrace, relieved with your response and happy that you understood. 

And so, it began.

The first time you left for a period longer than a week was again a trip with your sister. She decided on Egypt practically forcing you to come with her. It was when she has a conversation with Ambrose who also was very forceful in your attempt to go that you said yes.

You left with a promise to talk every two days through the mirror at a set time. The car ride was bad enough, but the boat was worse. Angelica had to get you drunk to get you to let loose a little. Your first week there was great, once you got used to the heat and the change in atmosphere, but it all went downhill at the end of the second week.

You were in a tent in the middle of nowhere, some underground restaurant that Angelica had been dying to go to, the boys were pretty but the girls even more so. It was when you were approached by an olive-skinned girl with dark brown hair that you started to feel a little weird. She had propositioned you which you did say no to, but it made you think about your relationship with him and the propositions he was probably getting at home. Though he was unable to leave the house, they did run a funeral home which meant that you had grieving families in and out. And what a better distraction than a cute seemingly single guy that you would be spending the majority of time with during the organisation for said funeral. 

You began to miss him in more aspects than one and making a mental note to talk to Ambrose about it. That night your talk with him was curt and short, you let your imagination get the better of you, although trusting him, the allure of other witches in the area was a bit much. 

This made the next two weeks a little harder to get through. You missed two conversations with Ambrose and tried to enjoy yourself, but Angelica left you alone for the last 2 days, sensing you didn’t want to talk about it. The trip to Egypt seemed to have been a blur. Like it didn’t happen at all because of your mood. The minute you got back you just sunk into Ambrose’s arms and sat there for what felt like an hour but was probably only about 10 minutes. 

He seemed relieved to see you but tried to hide it with a small laugh that died pretty quickly. He buried his face in your hair so you wouldn’t be able to see him and took a pretty deep breath. The two of you didn’t say anything to each other, there wasn’t a need. 

It was a couple of hours later, the two of you just staring at the ceiling in each other’s arms when you asked him about your relationship. “I know we’re still together, but we are staying monogamous right. That was a dumb question I’m sorry.”

There was a bit of silence on his end before he answered, “yeah. Unless you’ve met someone or something. I get my situation is difficult, but we can work through it right.”

“I was actually more concerned about your end. You run a funeral home; people are always looking for distractions when grieving.” He chuckled lightly and nothing was said about the topic again. The conversation seemed somewhat unfinished but neither of you said anything to change that.

The next years became monotonous. You woke up next to Ambrose who in that time had become a licensed mortician. You had breakfast, drank a lot of tea and spent the day either helping with the funeral things or learning witchy things from the aunties. You travelled now and again but never longer than 2 weeks. You and Ambrose were practically chained together, talking every day. He never gave you a reason to doubt your relationship or anything that happened. There were no serious arguments and nothing that made you uneasy. But also, no marriage proposal, it was the fact that you knew the box was there. It was still in the same place, hidden under Satan knows what in a drawer. 

The day started as you thought it would. Your hands traced circles on his chest, you were humming something under your breath, but he didn’t seem to notice. Ambrose was deep in thought and you could tell, his eyes although looking at you were so far away. 

It was a few minutes of laying when he finally broke the silence. “You need to leave,” his voice was firm but hurried.

“There’s no need, my flight is tomorrow. I’ll leave in the morning.” You were confused but still a little dazed.

“No, I mean you need to leave for good,” you perked up immediately, moving to sit up next to him.

“What do you mean. Not come back. You can’t kick me out of my own home. You are joking right.” You had a slight frown on your face, but his eyes were still not focussed on you.

“No. I’m breaking up with you.” He closed his eyes while saying it unable to see your reaction.

“What are you talking about. What did I do? Did you meet someone or something? We’ve been together for decades, you can’t just no.” You had stood up by this point trying to process what he was saying.

“No. I just realised that I am holding you back and you have, met someone I mean. Probably loads of someone’s that you decided not to date because of me. I am holding you back and I can’t do that anymore.”

You voice moved up about two octaves, the shock still in your system, “What is that supposed to mean. Holding me back from what. I have everything I need and want here with you. Do you want me to stay is that it, I’ll stay?” You were pacing, tears falling from your eyes but in your state, you didn’t notice.

“No. You are going to leave tomorrow and yes come back this is your home and we can be friends. I just can’t do this anymore. You didn’t do anything, you are perfect, always perfect I just can’t anymore. My sentence could mean forever, it’s unfair for you to feel the need to come back.” Despite what he was saying he was calm, still in the same position as before.

“You don’t get to decide what I’m feeling; you don’t get to decide what I want to do. Ambrose, I am fine with how things are,” 

“But I am not,” he lost his composure, raising his voice at you before sighing deeply. “I can’t do this anymore, we are over. Done.” 

“Ambrose. You can’t just break up with me because you think you’re doing me a favour. This is bullshit. I love you Ambrose and no amount of space and time is going to make me change that. If you want me to stay I will but you are not holding me back. I make my own decisions about my life and I am happy with how things are. I am happy with you.”

His voice quietened down to just above a whisper, “I am not. I am not happy with you. I can’t do this anymore; I can’t keep faking that. I am sorry but I can’t. It isn’t just about me holding you back. I am so restricted, and I can’t bring that onto you.”

He had you at a loss for words, holding you in your place before you went to the door and slammed it behind you. The noise must have roused the aunties because a moment later a pretty angry Zelda entered Ambrose’s room while Hilda went to meet you in yours.

“What did you do Ambrose,” Zelda had a fire in her eyes and a set jaw looking down at her nephew. 

“I did what was best for her. I can’t keep doing this to her.” 

Zelda cut him off with a stern look, “You don’t get to decide that. Well, it’s you who has to live with the consequences of your actions. You get no sympathy or help from me, I’m sure you already saw how wrong you were to do that.”

Ambrose couldn’t answer his aunt, the guilt of the matter reaching him too deep but his desire to make Y/N happy and to do what was best for her, reaching him deeper. He had made his decision, he only hoped it was the right one. 

Meanwhile, you were sobbing in Hilda’s lap, completely distraught and still confused. It wasn’t the nature of his feeling but rather that this is honestly what he thought was best. You wondered whether this had been brewing for a few months, even years. He had wanted to travel so bad, but you had tried in every way you could magic and otherwise to show him everything you deemed enough, and yet it wasn’t enough. You weren’t enough, it was that feeling that had you sobbing uncontrollably. 

You just about cried yourself to sleep, the next day coming quicker than you wanted. You packed a bag and got a hold of Angelica. You told her what happened and the fury that radiated off the image of her was immense. She vowed to kill him, but you just told her that you would stay with her for a while.

You left without so much as a goodbye, promising to keep in touch with the aunties. He knew how to contact you if he needed to. You went to find your sister, ending up back in Spain, staying in the same place you had first met Ambrose at. The first couple of days were harsh, you didn’t move out of your room, Selene having to remind you to eat. Angelica had met you there and pulled you int her arms as you cried.

Lilac had come a week or two later, talking about how she knew he was bad news from the beginning. It was a breakup, a somewhat normal breakup. You just didn’t understand why it happened and apparently neither did the other girls. 

Although they extended the invitation to you, you chose not to drink and instead tried to pull yourself together. You tried to tell yourself that it was a long time coming after his sentence but that seemed fake even to you. The box in the drawer seemed to tell you otherwise. So, you wrote and wrote. The girls brought you more paper and you sat at the table or in your bed writing. Hilda had called to ask how you were but didn’t say anything about Ambrose even after you asked specifically.

Everything seemed a mystery even to her. It took a month, but you called your dad and spoke to him. He had spouted out something about not all people who seemed good together were meant to be together. He was basically just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. A month after that you decided to return to the coven in central America. They were still happy to have you after the years and said for you to come as soon as. Lilac left to do her own business, but you spoke once a week and Angelica had insisted on coming with you. 

Life without Ambrose was weirdly refreshing at first. Once you told yourself you were ready to put your head up and move on your body seemed to believe it. You started to go out and smile more but desperately tried to stay around people as much as possible. That’s why you grew to hate the night. When everyone was asleep and you were alone it made you think of him, whether he was thinking of you. Whether he cared what you were up to, or if you were okay. Whether he had moved on or fallen for someone else, whether that’s why he broke up with you. 

It made you miss him. The apparitions you would show each other, his smile and laugh. The kimono robes which you had stolen from him but now refused to wear. You missed him utterly and completely and while not feeling empty, you felt like something was deeply wrong. Like something was missing and you didn’t know what would fix it. 

Unbeknownst to you, he was a mess. Maybe it was because he was stuck in the house and everything reminded him of you. Maybe it was because unlike you he couldn’t leave and just move on to a new place like that. Maybe it was because he was lonely. He spent the days mostly drinking tea and doing his job. He seemed to sleep more than ever, feeling fatigued easier. Over time he stopped seeing you everywhere. His kimonos stopped reminding him of you and he was able to open that drawer. He took out the box and held it in both his hands. It was then he knew he made the wrong decision. That it wasn’t fair to you, to him and everyone around you. The reason he did it seemed fake when he looked at the specially carved wood. He traced the grooves with his fingers and thought of you. Everything seemed wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it. It was too late.

It must have been over a year later when he asked to see you, to speak to you if he could. Hilda had told you that he wanted to during your last talk. You were happy, something was still missing, he was still missing but you were happy. Being around the women, feeling loved the way one is supposed to. Beginning the process of learning everything there is to know had given you a new freedom, it was clear by the look in your eyes. You still missed him though. You missed him a lot, which is why you wrote. The reason you took the writing course in the first place was to channel your emotions, it had been cathartic and still was. 

The various pieces of paper and notebooks practically littered your extremely spacious room. The women had been generous, probably because how eager you had been to learn from them and also, of course, their own kindness. When you had heard that Ambrose wanted to talk to you, you felt weird. Not, not wanting to talk to him but your hesitancy made you think a lot harder about the situation. 

You had felt good without him, of course, you still missed him but throwing yourself into your work had been a decent coping mechanism. Although you would never admit it to anyone sometimes you would sit in one of his kimonos while writing. You couldn’t explain why but gave you relief, it had been so long that they no longer smelt like him, but it provided you with a weird sort of comfort.

The night was bright because of the long summer nights when Zelda called you. You had a mirror along one of your walls which you sat Infront with a smile on your face, more for your benefit than anyone else’s Almost to tell yourself that this was fine, and you were okay. Red hair replaced your reflection, which for some reason made your smile drop slightly. 

“Hello Y/N, how are you dear.” Her question was the usual, monotone but there was something underneath it like she was asking more than just how you were.

“I’m fine, a little tired because of a mishap earlier but other than that I’m good. Lilac is actually visiting next week.” You took a deep breath and settled deeper into your chair.

“Well Hilda was going to beat around the bush, but Ambrose would love to talk to you if you’re up to it.” She held the pipe tighter in one hand and blew smoke into the mirror obscuring your vision, that also meant that she missed the twitch in your face at the mention of his name.

“Sure, send him over.” You weren’t sure if your voice betrayed you, because you were everything but sure, but she left a half-second later anyways. After a minute Ambrose appeared in front of you, a gentle smile on his face.

“So, Y/N, how are you.” His question was stiff.

“I’m fine, it’s been nice here. What about you?” Your answer was just as stiff, when you said it out loud it sounded rehearsed.

“I’m good. Haven’t been out much,” he let out an awkward chuckle and coughed. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you as much as I know I did.” 

“You’re a year late. It doesn’t matter now. I’m okay, I’m over it.” You said that more for yourself than anything. 

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but his eyes focused on something behind you. You had pinned up some of the writing you had done which he was reading. A lot of it was about pretty generic things since you had taken down the other ones a day prior put there were a few that you thought he couldn’t see behind you.

I am still not able to come out of that dream, your sight is in my mind, haunting me because I know we’re never meeting, after all, you don’t want us to. I just don’t know how to come out of it. Your face is inside my head bright like the sun. I’m burning. 

The first he didn’t think was about him but the second was pretty obvious.

Why did you come back? What I want is peace and quiet. To be able to breathe, to be loved unconditionally and to love the same way and I had that with you. I had that and then you made me leave with the guise that it was for me but now I just want to come home. I only ever want to come home to you.

He didn’t know what to feel about it. He felt guilty but also something he didn’t quite recognise. He missed you, that much was obvious but now after everything he felt he didn’t deserve you, that it was unfair to you to be with him.

“I want us to be able to be friends. I miss the aunties and the town. It’s a weird place but you know. It was home for a while. It’s still home to me.” He sort of jumped at the sound of your voice. Not quite noticeable but enough for you to see he was distracted somewhat. Selene hissed lightly, settling on your hand. 

“Please, come and visit. It would be nice to see you in person, to see you at all. I want us to be okay. You were a huge part of my life; I still want you in it.” He didn’t know what more to say and, in all honesty, neither did you. He said a quick goodbye and called Hilda who appeared almost as soon as he left.

“Dear, how was that. Not that you want to talk about it. What about your day, or week? Zelda said something about a mishap.” You told her just that, about the small fire and your day. You were distracted, eyes darting everywhere but her eyes. She left quickly after that and you went straight to bed. 

Once Lilac had arrived, you talked to her and Angelica together about your conversation. Lilac had been quick to “Fuck him” but Angelica had been more understanding in a way. She encouraged you to see him. It was almost as if she knew how badly you wanted to and gave you permission to do it. When you had gotten back to your room at the end of the day you found Selene curled up in one of Ambrose’s kimonos.