#the place I’ve wanted to see since I was four years old was so fucking crowded nd I was like barely keeping my overstimulation under contro

[alittleemo]

sometimes im like maybe im not nd maybe im j making it all up. and other times i sit at family dinner and go ohh so i can track Exactly what each of you gave me .

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Kinktober (reuploaded)

Breeding (Chris)

Request: Baby fever with Chris I BEG YOU/omg when you write breeding Chris can you add Y/N saying she wants to have a baby with such pretty blue eyes like Chris

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, breeding obviously, soft/slow sex

Y/n’s pov

Chris and I have been dating since we were 17 but I’ve known him and his brothers since we were 4 years old. From the moment we started dating, our families always joked saying we’d get married one day. Well, that was a future reality, since Chris had proposed to me in May of this year. Even though we’ve only been engaged for a few months and we’re only 20, I would love to start a family with him. We had this conversation the other day with Nick and Matt, for some reason the topic was babies and Chris was ecstatic.

“I want like four or five babies! I can’t wait until Y/n gets pregnant, she’s gonna be so cute with our baby in her belly” he smiled, poking me in the stomach. “Ow Chris don’t do that. We do have baby fever though” I laughed as Nick grimaced. “I hate babies and I hate children” he said, Matt smacked him, “Oh shut up Nick you know when they have a baby you’re gonna be the cool gay uncle” he laughed. “I’m not changing diapers” Nick grimaced again, “I wanna make Y/n fat and pregnant” Chris beamed happily.

That was like five days ago, today we were having a lazy day, we lived in the guest house behind Matt and Nick’s. They got it built after hearing me and Chris fuck too many times, but still, it was a nice gesture and we get to still live with them basically. “Would you really have babies with me?” I asked Chris as I cuddled up to his side. “I’d love nothing more than to get you fat and pregnant. Our babies would look so cute” I could literally hear the smile in his voice. I pulled away and sat up against the headboard, Chris doing the same right after, looking at me with a big smile.

“Our kids can’t call me daddy though, that would be fucking weird” he laughed, causing me to smack his chest. “They could call my parents Mimi and Papa, and yours Grammy and Pop-Pop. Those sound so cute!” I gushed. “My dad would love Pop-Pop” Chris laughed again. “You know what I would love?” I asked, earning a small hum for me to continue, “I’d love for the baby to have your pretty blue eyes and gorgeous pink lips” I told him as my eyes shifted between the two, Chris doing the same to me. “Yeah?” he asked breathlessly against my lips, “Yeah” I said back in the same way.

Chris leaned in and softly pressed his lips against mine, moving us to lay back. “Let’s make that blue-eyed baby right now! You’re off birth control right?” he asked softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Yes, now let’s make that baby” I smiled, placing a passionate kiss to his lips, after a few minutes, Chris pulled away. He took off his shirt and sweats before pushing my shirt up to see my stomach. “You’re gonna look so good pregnant. Can’t wait to put a baby in your belly” he said while kissing all over my stomach.

“Chris— babe please hurry!” “Sorry, I’m just so excited to have a kid with you” he blushed hard. Chris pulled my shirt over my head before taking off both our underwear, running two fingers through my folds. “So wet already- can we just go straight into softly fucking?” he asked breathlessly, “God, yes” I whined back. Chris slowly slid in and started thrusting fairly fast right away, not too fast though. I pulled him down for another kiss and we let breathless moans out into it, having both a passionate kiss and sex. I was running my fingers through his hair softly while the other held onto the side of his jaw.

One of Chris’ hands moved down to my clit, rubbing it quickly. Pulling away from the kiss, he started talking, “This is like the slowest sex we’ve ever had but— shit! This is gonna be the fastest I’ve ever cum, want you to cum for me princess” he said lowly. I let out a few loud moans before I started cumming, “Oh fuck Chris, so good babe. Want you to cum in me” I moaned. Chris hid his head in my neck, whining as he came in me, pumping into me a few more times before pulling out. He immediately moved down to finger his cum into me, not wanting any to spill out.

“Can’t believe we’re going to have a baby” he said excitedly, kissing all over my stomach. “They’re going to have the prettiest blue eyes, just like their dad” I smiled while playing with his hair. “God, I love you so much Y/n!” he said, looking at the pretty engagement ring on my finger. “I love you so much more” I replied as we both cuddled up with each other and drifted off to sleep, hoping we’d have a happy little family soon.

<<< 12 months later>>>

A few months ago I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Chris was ecstatic to find out he was going to have a son. He does, in fact, have Chris’ pretty blue eyes, he’s so tiny but you can already tell he has his dads nose as well. We named him Nolan Cole Sturniolo, Chris is literally the best dad ever, he helps me with everything. Matt and Nick are so excited that they’re uncles now, Matt always offers to babysit him so me and Chris can go on date nights. I wonder if he’ll be confused when he grows up, having a dad and two uncles who look exactly the same and all. Anyways I’m very happy with our little family.

[malfoyfarms]

She Wanted You

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Word Count:1.4k

Warnings:none

A/n: angst bc im boycotting watching season three LOL, not my gif

“What do you mean she left?” JJ questioned, dumbfounded. He didn’t realize it, but he was walking into a war zone. The Chateau no longer had the same feel. It was like someone sucked the air out, and pumped smog in. 

With tears in his eyes, John B pointed towards his sister’s room. Sarah and Pope were lingering in there, but JJ had no idea why. The room was oddly neat, incredibly out of character of the girl who resided there. Her closet was emptier than usual, the three picture frames that once had pictures of her with her family and friends were empty. What caught JJ’s eyes next, made his mouth go dry. His breath was no longer there. The navy sweatshirt he had given her years ago was folded, on the bed, next to the pillow he always claimed during their relationship. Atop the sweatshirt was a ring from a gumball machine, an orange and green friendship bracelet made of paracord, and a pile of notes written on scraps of random papers. Every other personal belonging was missing from its spot. 

JJ tore through the girl’s nightstand, and when he realized the box of her life savings was gone, he let out a string of colorful words and kicked the stand.

“Here, you should read this.” Sarah handed him a neatly written note. By the tear stains on Pope’s face, the somber tone from the kook, and JB’s raging anger, it was a farewell. 

He took a deep breath, and swiped the letter from Sarah. The familiar handwriting was already pulling at his heart.

J,

I’ve rewritten this letter four times already, and I still don’t know how to put my thoughts into actual words. Firstly, I love you. I love you until the waves stop coming in. I love you so much that I knew I needed to leave. I’ve known since you wandered home with John B in third grade, and gave me all the answers (even though they were wrong) to my math homework that if there was going to be another boy in my life, he was going to have to fight you for that spot. From 7 years old, I only ever wanted you. But over the last two years, I can see that I’m not the one for you. And that is why I’m leaving. One of the only things that got me through my day was seeing you smile, but I understand that there is someone else who causes those crinkles by your eyes.

I have to leave because it’s too painful. I need time to have all your kisses leave my body, I need to leave because I can’t smell the ocean, listen to Akon and Konvict, or even wash my fucking clothes without thinking of you. I see you in body language, in the waves, in every damn aspect of my life. Not only are we ingrained on this island, but you are ingrained in me. If I’m ever going to come home I need to remove every trace. 

I told you last week, I’d always be on your team, even from a distance. I need you to pursue Kiara because there is nothing more I want for you than happiness. Deep down, I know it will always be her. While that sentence feels like a shot, I’m coming to terms with it. 

Don’t try to come find me, either. I won’t be going to any of the places we’ve ever talked about, I do have my secrets still. Not Yucatan, not Tybee, and certainly not Jekyll. Take care of my brother.

All my love, 

Y/N

“When did you and Y/N break up?” Sarah asked. JJ couldn’t even think straight. Y/N and the boy broke up about a week ago, for that specific reason, JJ thought there was something there with Kiara. He didn’t think the girl would pick up her stuff and bolt. Leave her brother, her best friends, and the life she claimed to love. 

“I, uh, initiated it last week or so,” he stuttered, “it wasn’t definite or anything, but it was insinuated I guess. We had a conversation about it, but I don’t think I ever could have said it out loud.”

“Oh,” she thought. “You know she really loved you with every bone in her body.”

He sucked in a deep breath to try to keep his tears at bay. How could he walk out to the front room and face John B. He was the reason the youngest Routledge had left. With Big John gone, she was all he had left. Hell, with Luke gone, she was all JJ had too. In some form he robbed his friends of a family member. 

JJ laid down on the neatly made bed and latched onto the sweatshirt that smelled just like her. His memory flooded with images of Y/n in that sweatshirt. From it covering her bikini when they went night swimming, it being the one sweatshirt that was specifically for after she came home from school, the one thing that grounded her when she was having a rough day. JJ felt his chest start to tighten, and his hands were clammy and shaking. 

“I thought you said you’d never break her heart!” JB screamed. Impeccable timing. 

“John B don’t–” Sarah tried to interject.

“No Sarah, he promised. He promised me almost three years ago that if I gave him permission to date Y/n, he wouldn’t hurt her. He knew he’d be breaking more than just her heart. And now I can’t even help her pick up the pieces. I can’t fix my baby sister, the way she fixed each and every one of us!” 

“Bro, you think this is what I wanted? I had a conversation with her. Nothing was definitive. It’s not my fault she took her shit and ran!”

“When has Y/n ever not taken her feelings and ran? Name one time!”

JJ sat there in thought, and there had been one time she didn’t run, and he had promised that he wouldn’t tell. He was going to anyway.

“When you disappeared. I held her while she cried herself to sleep for nights on end. So don’t act like I never treated her right. You know I did.” JB ran his hands through his hair and left the room. 

“Until you decided you may have feelings for the girl who is like her big sister.” That stung. 

“What’s going on?” Kie asked.

“She’s gone.” John B said. “‘Cuz JJ’s in love with you.”

~~

JJ sat in the hammock, wearing the navy sweatshirt he hadn’t worn in years. It smelled just like her. He could even feel the marks of where she rolled the sleeves and dug her thumbs into the side. 

He barely remembered last week’s conversation about Kie, but never did he think that it would cause you to disappear. Y/n was so incredibly loyal. She wanted him. Every. Damn. Day. She wanted him when the clouds were out, and the usually blue sky was gray. She wanted him when he was bruised and beat up, she wanted him when he was crabby after a 14 hour shift, she wanted him at every hour of the day in any way she could have him. 

It was just a conversation, he thought. He never flat out said that he was leaving her for the tanned, wealthy kook. 

He felt so fucking stupid. He felt so much self-hatred. He remembered when they were 12 and 14, and Y/n wanted to walk to the gas station a few streets over, but John B wouldn’t go with her. He remembered what she usually bought. Peach iced tea, sour straws and a bag of munchie mix. Every single time. 

He remembered when the girl got drunk for the first time and dialed him to come get her. God, she was so inebriated. She clung to the boy, giggling profusely. That was the first night she ever told the boy she loved him. Y/n never knew it, but JJ kept that memory locked in his head. 

He pondered the time she was ready to give him her virginity. He remembered how nervous she was, but how much she trusted him. 

It had grown dark by the time he wandered back into the Chateau. He was surprised JB didn’t kick him out, he fully expected to be out on the streets by now. As he stumbled towards the bedrooms, he went past his own, and fully dove into the light purple sheets he had come to love. She’ll come back, he thought. She has to.

[mandareeboo]

Things I’ve noticed while re-watching Owl House:

Eda’s been living on borrowed time since season 1. She thought she was going to disappear on that bridge, and she certainly didn’t expect to have her time non-feathered to be doubled. That (and other things) has led her to be much more willing to die in season 2- she isn’t running anymore, but she’s not fighting much either. She plans to go out with Raine. She plans to hand herself over to the Emperor. She plans to die on the Day of Unity with Lilith as long as King and Luz are far, far away. Finally she plans to die in front of the entire city of Bonesborough to give Luz and King a better future

Eda put a LOT of work into being Luz’s mentor. It’s not really mentioned but in episode four she states that she “hasn’t figured out how old Witches performed magic”, but in Adventures in the Elements she has a whole training itinerary planned around elements and how connecting was/is important to old Witches. We also see she had a GIANT stack of overdue library books. I’m willing to bet she put a lot of time and reading into helping Luz with her glyphs.

Luz probably overheard Camila’s statement about Vee being “such a strong girl” and may have been somewhat hurt bc Camila implied she’d not had that before. It’s not intentional on Camila’s part but we all know Luz goes the extra mile to feel ashamed.

Even though Hunter tells Luz to stop messaging him he still apologizes when he sends her a photo of Flapjack. Idk I just think that’s polite and cute.

Of the covens we know the least about Construction magic. With Oracles we at least know about their mummy things they bring out. All we know about Construction is power glyphs and that they seem to almost earthbend

If Alador hasn’t had a day off in five years but has only recently stopped talking to the kids bc of the Abomatons that implies he was still socially active in their lives to some degree.

Belos saying Hunter looked the most like his brother while also having given him that big fuck off cheek scar makes me feel like at one point he really hated that and tried to “change” it

Luz and Hunter are the only characters in the show to have had any prolonged discussions with Belos. Even Kiki only got a few orders and jabs and that’s it. Just a subtle bit of his distaste for Witches even today.

Likewise Luz and Hunter both share the common denominator of being scarred by Belos

Even though Boscha keeps her word not to outright bully the gang after losing in Grudgby she still keeps surprisingly intertwined in their day-to-day lives, even stopping by Luz’s club to pester her AND seeming to be legitimately interested in Luz’s life goals. I feel like in Boscha’s mind she sees it as like. Rival pals.

Despite being a giant bigot Belos still called Kikimora “Kiki” once or twice. It literally doesn’t matter I just find it hilarious. “I hate Witches and witchcraft but I draw the line on not using nicknames.”

Considering King didn’t live in his hatching place OR have the engraving on his collar for like eight years of his life if the Collector hadn’t been busy with Belos he likely would’ve found him instantly with the wanted posters

Lilith saw Eda as “dangerous” and “misguided” and I think a lot of that drew back to when she witnessed the Owl Beast attack and permanently disable their father

Raine only knew Eda for like seven months before she became cursed. They’ve literally known her for most of her life but almost all of that time came from after that point. Idk I just think it’s interesting bc Eda always saw her curse as a burden but to Raine it’d been part of her life so long they probably feel like it’s just... her.

The Day of Unity had basically nothing to do with Phillip going home, it was just a “fuck you all and die” as he left.

I feel like no one really talks about this but Gwendolyn and Dell are Wild Witches. Yes they're both in covens but Dell is secretly regrowing damage done by Belos and Gwen seeks outside-coven help AND steals magic artifacts to try to heal Eda, like none of this is legal

Also I feel like no one talks about how the pain sharing spell and the fist raising Eda and Lily do as kids is probably Wild in origin. No one else uses verbal spells and we've seen organized witches duels today and they don't do that gesture.

Vee is a very quiet and easily panicked girl and while that's perfectly natural after all she's been through when 'Luz' came back from camp Camila probably assumed the worst

Unless we get a flashback to King’s dad or a flash-forward to grown-up King we will never see a grown living Titan.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I quit my school play?

Tl;dr at the bottom!!

For context, I’m 15f and was just cast in my school play. I had never been in one of my school’s productions, so I figured I’d give it a try and make some new friends (I transferred to this school). I really enjoy theatre, and I’ve been in productions since I was around seven or eight years old; I’m no stranger to it.

Well, it turns out the amount of interest for the school play was a lot bigger than they thought, so there were limited roles. Thankfully, I did manage to get into the main cast, so I was like, yay me (even though it was a smaller role, which I was wholeheartedly expecting, albeit a tad sad about)!

Yesterday, we finally started rehearsals and read from the script once, to get a feel of our characters. I didn’t know much about the role, since it was a lesser known play and all that was in the description for my character was ‘foreign housekeeper’. All I knew is that I’d have to have some kind of accent (something I’m not too good at, but I figured it would be fun to get out of my comfort zone a bit), so I had been practicing some kind of accent at home to try out with the script.

But when I was reading through my lines, I quickly discovered that this was NOT what I thought it was going to be.

My character, putting it lightly, is a blatantly xenophobic stereotype. They are a completely one note character whose only personality trait is, ‘foreign’. She can’t speak English very well, and tends to ‘mix up her words’, which the other characters tend to berate her for. She also never speaks in more than four words at a time, and the script goes out of its way to never have her speak in more than one syllable at a time. It’s disgusting, and I fucking hate it!

Here’s a direct line from the play so you can see one of the worst examples.

MY CHARACTER: No nuts in this house!

CHARACTER 2: Do you realize what you did, [my character]? You put all the words in the correct order! That’s wonderful! We’ve been waiting so long for this day!

MY CHARACTER: You thank.

CHARACTER 3 (and this character is the goddamn LEAD): Well, she’s bound to get things right once in awhile.

It just..makes me so uncomfortable. I want to get out of my comfort zone, but playing this character takes me out of it and places me one hundred miles away in the open desert.

The worst part I think is that this show is a goddamn murder mystery, and my character has no fucking purpose. They don’t even end up dying; they’re just there for ‘comic relief’, and it’s all fucking xenophobia! And at the end, it’s revealed that they’re stealing from their bloody employer.

I also think, based on their prior recorded performances, they’re going to put me a costume I’m not comfortable in…so I’m really considering quitting right now.

Here’s why I think I may be the asshole for quitting.

I technically signed a contract (not knowing about the characters but assuming it wouldn’t be more than a few swears and some sex jokes here and there) that I would play any character they cast me as…so I would be breaking that promise if I quit. There IS an understudy, so I won’t technically be fucking them over with this…but god, I am such a people pleaser that I’m thinking about just sucking it up and playing the part.

My parents told me I’m overreacting on the part and that I just need to ‘make it fun’…but fuck, I just can’t with it. I want to cry every time I’m at rehearsal because I feel like I’m condoning xenophobia with it.

So, do you think I’d be the asshole if I quit the play?

Tl;dr: WIBTA if I quit a show I signed a contract for (although there is an understudy) because I don’t feel comfortable with playing a character that is an xenophobic stereotype?

What are these acronyms?

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Four

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: IT'S TAKEN A WHILE BUT IT'S HAPPENING, MATTY AND MOUSE ARE SO CLOSE. Hi:) Hope you enjoy this part, finally throwing them into the same building!! Lot's happening in this one!

Warnings: Mentions of rehab, struggles around body image

Masterlist

🐭 @/petitesouris 13m Early start, hoping it's a good session today!

The next week rolled around slowly and it had been one of the most agonising waits of my life. 

I’d constantly been emailing with the Primary Talent Team for the last few days, back and forth, just trying to work out which date and time would best fit both our schedules. It’d been gruelling. And the entire exchange would have gone a whole lot easier if it hadn't been for the fact that it had all been centred around them and based on their terms and conditions. Not forgetting the mile long list of Do’s and Don'ts they had also attached to their most recent email, which had been oh so fucking thrilling.

To be honest, I might not have minded it if my whole life had only revolved around the radio show. But as proud of it as I was, and as incredibly hard as both Adi and I constantly worked, I had other priorities that took precedence. I loved the show with all my heart but it could never be my entire life. Not with Teddy waiting for me back home at the end of each day, relying on me alone to raise and feed and clothe him.

Not that Healy’s management could comprehend that, or the fact that I had a schedule and a set routine. They didn't know when to stop and pushed and pushed to get what they wanted. And I could only fight back so much. Which meant that I’d ended up dropping Teddy off at Finn’s place a whole two hours earlier than usual just so that Adi and I could prep for the dated interview.

So, with that in mind, it was safe to say that I wasn't in the perkiest of moods when Adi bounded breathlessly into the studio that morning, a lot later than expected.

"I know, I know, I'm late!" Adi immediately squawked as she hurried on over, the door behind her slamming shut in her wake. "But I have good reason! I hardly slept last night, too excited for all of this!" She added as she threw her knitted tote bag down in its customary corner, the one I’d brought her the birthday last, and tossed her phone and throng of keys down with a clatter onto her paper-filled desk.

I rolled my eyes, but was unable to negotiate with the amused smile that pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Still had time to post a quick photo though. Don't think I didn't see it, Adeline- you tagged the show."

Adi’s smile was blinding when she spun around to meet me, brown eyes wild and full of mirth.

“Figured since you still haven't a clue about how Instagram works that you just wouldn't see it, my love!" She retorted whilst throwing herself down into my desk chair and kicking her Doc clad feet up onto the table. She shot me a smug smirk. 

“Cow. And oi, I’ll have you know I’ve caught on since Circa ‘18!” I defended, but relented upon seeing Adi’s arched brow. “Fine, I had Finn explain it all to me one night after a bottle of wine. But the point still stands.”

Adi’s raucous laughter bounced around the loft and I could only roll my eyes once more before huffing. 2018 had been a rough year for many, but mostly me, seeing as I’d accidentally posted a quick shot of me in the tub for the group chat to my story, exposing a little more than I’d like to our show’s following.

Adi stared back at me in disbelief, loosening the bun of unruly curls that had been strung together by a silk bandana, which also seemed to match the colour of the very short shorts she was wearing.

"He'd had to have been a saint in another life to have dealt with an indisposed you for that long."

I scoffed at that, but couldn't help my own trickle of laughter. “I sent Teddy round to his the next day with a box of chocolates- you know, those fancy ones he’s always banging on about?” Adi hummed her assent. “Felt proper bad about it all. Took him ages to teach me how to stop going Live.”

We both laughed.

“Waste of time that was, should’ve just brought the chocolates here! Knowing Finn, he only helped ‘cause he found the entire sodding thing hilarious.” Adi supplied, pulling a pack of chewing gum free from her jacket pocket.

Snorting faintly, I denied her offering of a piece with a wave of my hand, and went back to fidgeting with my phone, distracting myself again from my plume of thoughts. I spun the device round and round, slowly enough so that each edge made contact with the wooden desktop. 

“You alright there, babe?” Adi queried after a while, and I glanced over to see her eyes now trailing the movement. “Ted doing alright?” 

I stilled and then hummed, watching as she turned and went about fumbling her way through an array of wires that sat on my desk, most of which were already hooked up to the monitors. It was a task Adi did most mornings, even when I’d already ticked it off the list, ever the perfectionist, wanting to double check that nothing would go wrong with the day's show.

“Oh yeah, all’s fine. Teds is already obsessing over Halloween, ranting about what costume he wants to get this year. But August has only just passed, Ads.” I groaned, thinking back to the previous evening when Teddy had spent a good portion of his bath time rambling on about what every other kid in his class was going to be.

Adi peered back at me, the extremity of the grin she wore wrinkling the corners of her eyes. “Just kids, ain't it? We were the same, you'll miss it in a couple of years.”

I supposed she was right, but only because I didn’t have much of an experience to look back on. Halloween had just been me and mum in the woods up by the creek, collecting flowers and eucalyptus for the wreaths we’d make, then reading old stories by the fire.

“Don't remind me, please. I don't want him getting any bigger!” I sighed all too dramatically before standing to head on over towards the printer, picking up everything I’d sent off earlier from out the tray.

“It's the way of life, babe. So, when do you reckon Teds will end up towering over you?”

Adi simply chuckled when I stuck a finger up at her from over my shoulder, not even wanting to pay that idea any thought at all. Teddy was my baby, I couldn’t picture him all grown up.

“I should mention that I saw your tweet, by the way. Guessing you're nervous for today?” Adi added after, her tone a little softer than normal, catching me off guard enough that I actually stilled in place before I turned to face her.

“And you’re not?"

Adi’s mouth quirked upwards when she shook her head, dark ringlets moving with it.

“Why would I be? This is fucking huge for us, M! The exposure that we'll receive alone could really give us the big break we've been searching for- I honestly can't even begin to believe it.”

I gnawed on my bottom lip as I lingered over her words, then pushed back the thought of me having been the one to deal with the stress that was Healy’s management team to the back of my mind. Adi didn’t deserve that, I’d always been the one to deal with all the crap happening behind the scenes, and besides, Adi had a right to be excited. I only wished that I had the ability to join in on it.

“I just don't want to start up any more unnecessary drama, Ads.”

Drama was the very last thing I wanted, knowing that this whole thing with Healy could easily blow up in our faces if we didn’t go about it the right way. And if shit actually does end up hitting the metaphorical fan, then… I wasn't sure I'd be fit enough to handle it. Handle the backlash that would surely follow and affect the show, the only source of income I had. And without it, both Teddy and I would be royally fucked.

Apparently my lack of response had Adi rolling her eyes, adding an extra flare of dramatics to it by flicking my ear as she passed me by. “Don’t be such a worrier, babe. It’ll all work out, always does with us, don’t it? Besides, how can it not when I have a face as gorgeous as this?”

She winked, flashing me her famous grin.

“Tart.”

“Slag.” Adi easily countered.

A breathy chuckle escaped me and I shook my head before returning to the wad of papers I’d been rifling through. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s the radio, babe. No one will be seeing that gorgeous face of yours, or the way your arse is currently hanging out of those shorts.”

Adi cut her eyes at me from across the room, but they gleamed under the studio’s lights. “Don’t be jealous. We both know you love it.”

“Jealous? I’m a mum!”

“A fit one.”

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat at that and I couldn't find the energy to deny it, so I just shook my head.

“Anyway, you’re wrong.” And at my confused look, Adi continued on, grinning wickedly as she waved around one of the large devices she’d since picked up and cradled in her hand. “We are working with the camera’s today. Sort of why I'm here setting them all up. See?”

“Wait, we’re filming?” I gawked, and my eyes felt like they were just about ready to bulge out of my head as I sat up further to shake my head at her. Mouth already dry. “Non. No, Adi. No one ever mentioned that! I can’t.”

“They called yesterday demanding it. Just as you left to pick up Teds- it must've slipped my mind. I'm so sorry, hun.” Adi revealed sheepishly, her face scrunched up in an apologetic wince as the camera rig dropped to her hip. “But don't worry, yeah? I promise it'll all be sound and then we'll be well on our way to becoming the UK's biggest radio show!”

I reverted back to worrying at my bottom lip, chewing on it as though I hadn't eaten for days whilst I tapped an anxious rhythm into the arm of my chair. I couldn’t do the cameras, not today at least.

“Trust me, Mouse. It’ll be alright. You’ve done it before and you can do it again. No one will say a thing.”

I wished I could fucking believe her.

***

The Sun @/Thesun 16m Matty Healy spotted out in London today! The singer has been relatively quiet for the past few days- somewhat strange for the wayward frontman- but will this all change now that he's been seen? (Link) H @/user1 18m um, what? he’s where?? Adi @/AdelineWells_ 19m Long day ahead but we're very excited for today's show! Big surprises in store for you lot, so who's looking forward to it?? @/petitesouris @/Mouseonamic Indie @/user2 21m @/AdelineWells_ AHHH hope it's another Adi's All-Knowing segment!! Urmymedicine @/user3 23m Did anyone else see Jamie’s ig post?? He says to keep an eye out- AN EYE OUT FOR WHAT?? Talk! @/user4 11m I feel like I've been hit by an unnecessary amount of information

***

Matty’s bleary stare made an attempt to focus on the blurring buildings that passed them by as the car cut through the paved streets of London. Grey just melting into another varied shade of grey.

It was still far too bright for the beginning of September, the remaining weeks of summer only just tittering away now, and Matty couldn't help the scowl that had long since settled into his hollow features. 

One of the very few things he liked about the city was the fact that it was almost sure to be gloomy during the colder months. But it seemed as though the sun was shining a little brighter today, much to his chagrin.

A dull pain throbbed at either side of his temples, it’d been there since he’d been forced awake, and so he'd had to wind the window all the way down as soon as they'd set off to keep the nausea at bay. He silently regretted not turning in early last night, but it couldn't have been helped. It was hard to stay asleep without his usual nightcap, and even then, it was harder to dismiss the memories that plagued his mind without downing half a bottle of something or other.

A frigid wash of air wound its way down his throat as he took a long breath, his mind slowing a tad as the afternoon breeze trickled across his skin. But soon enough Matty’s calm was broken and his attention was then caught by Jamie, who sounded just as thwart as he felt.

“You even listening to me, mate?”

Jamie’s undeterred voice filtered through the back of the car, a short lived sigh following in its wake.

Matty merely rolled his eyes from behind his darkened sunglasses and proceeded to slump further in his seat, lolling his head to the side so that his focus was now within the car instead of on the distractions of the outside world.

His gaze trailed its way across the dark leather seats and blacked out windows before it finally ended up landing on his manager, who was kitted up in one of his many sharp shirts and a pair of formal fitting trousers. A right snazzy twat.

Matty could appreciate their pattern though, Jamie hardly ever ventured too far into the world of fashion, so the burgundy tartan was a sight to behold.

He soon fixed Jamie with an apathetic stare from across the backseat, fingers already itching for a fag, or maybe something stronger. He couldn’t be arsed with the mindless bother he’d been sent to complete today, really didn’t want to be dealing with a roomful of people that were there to assault him with an extensive range of hard-hitting questions, or have any more unwanted cameras shoved in his face in truth. 

But here he was, doing it.

Following orders because that was what it took to be a puppet. He was too tired to be tugging on any strings today though, simply wanted to get the afternoon over and done with, hopefully without any repercussions, so that he could fall back into bed.

“Matty, mate.” Jamie huffed, his face having fallen into a pitiful expression that Matty didn’t quite like looking at, but couldn’t seem to look away from. 

For a while, he'd been fearful that he'd pushed his luck all too far with Jamie, as well as the rest of the band too he supposed. But it seemed as though the guy had a thing for redemption, because he was trying his fucking hardest to annoy Matty into growing the fuck up.

“Look. I know you don't like this anymore than I do, but it's your job, mate. You ain’t got much of a choice here. But think of it this way, right. It's better you being here, doing this, than drowning away in your own fucking sorrows- thought you'd given up drinking since rehab, anyway.”

Matty’s jaw clenched involuntarily at the reminder. Rehab. What was it with everyone and always bringing it up? He’d been too fucking gone on painkillers to have given a second thought to the little amount of alcohol that particular shit show had provided. Could hardly call it a rehabilitation centre either, not when you were constantly surrounded by other abusers who were practically there on a getaway, just finding other means to entertain themselves with.

Jamie broke the silence just as Matty’s mind began to spiral, and Matty couldn’t help but be rather thankful for it.

“You just gonna sit there then?” Jamie snorted, obviously trying to fill the tense quiet now, “Normally you’d have told me to piss off by now.”

“Piss off.” Matty murmured, turning his focus back to the window.

The car seemed to be slowing down now and Matty furrowed his brow when they came to a gentle halt outside a block of buildings.

“Where are we?”

“Outskirts of Islington, I think. Not too far from the studio.”

Matty didn't get much of a chance to reply- not that he'd had one, Islington never did manage to bring up the most fondest of memories with him- because Jamie had all but jumped at the chance to exit the vehicle, opening up the sliding backdoor to escape into the stream of daylight.

With a tired sigh, Matty ran a hand through his mussed hair before he made a move to join his manager, clicking his neck slightly as the bottoms of his leather, heeled boots clacked against the cobbled pavement.

There was the usual musty scent that lingered throughout the city as he took a breath, but the smell of petrol was somewhat stronger here. Hardly anyone was wandering down the backstreet they had pulled into though, and those that did didn't linger too long on either him or the extravagant hired car that he'd been sanctioned with since having been struck with yet another driving ban.

Craning his head up, Matty could tell that there wasn't much to the building they were standing outside of. A commercial unit, three stories or so. Its brick exterior worn and dotted with timber sash windows. It was quaint enough, but not what he was used to when it came to things like this.

"Alright. A quick debrief before we go in." Jamie started, already fixing the faint creases in his otherwise pristine shirt, caused from where he’d been sat working in the backseat. “This is the same show that you had a bit of a spat with earlier this week, alright? So you'll be meeting the same girl that spoke out about your, um… Well, your image and publicity, and all that crap, generally speaking."

Jamie’s eyes flitted around them before he was back to typing away on his phone again. Fucking thing was practically attached to his hand, made Matty wonder how the hell he managed a wank.

But then he caught onto that last bit of his sentence and furrowed his brows, throwing Jamie another quick glance, not quite comprehending.

“Why we even here then? Thought your lot had a right mare dealing with all that.”

Jamie had the decency to look a tad bit sheepish as he started to lead them over towards one of the heavy-duty doors that adorned each of the surrounding units.

“They think that by doing this, it will clear up any allegations. They just want you to right your wrongs, I ‘spose. Make it known that what went down was just a 'misunderstanding' of sorts.”

“Right my? For fucks sake, Jamie! I was shitfaced! And if I remember fucking rightly, this supposed presenter spoke some actual truth. How the fuck am I meant to deny that and clear this whole fucking mess up?"

Matty was quite close to fuming now. It was always the same thing, again and again. The lies were never ending. So much so that he could hardly even recognise them from the truth anymore, everything had seemed to mould into one.

Jamie had since paused, his hand resting on the door's brass handle whilst he gave Matty the best smile he could possibly muster up. "Matty, mate, I'm sorry. Listen, I thought I could-"

Matty cut him off with a throaty scoff.

"Don't make out you're sorry. Not when you're just here ‘to do your job’. The only thing you're sorry for is the fact that you've got to be here at all, to suffer through all this shit with me and put up with the added drama. Just do me a fucking favour and keep your half-arsed apologies to yourself, mate."

Jamie looked genuinely taken back by his vicious rant for once, and somewhat hurt too, but Matty paid it no mind. He knew where to hit where it hurt, and he often didn’t stop until he tasted blood. The band knew that better than most.

"You act like you're here for me, when all you really care about is goin’ by the book and following the rules. Fucking grow a pair and apologise to me when there's an actual ounce of sympathy behind it." He spat back, teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw, glowering at the man standing before him. 

Matty shoved past his startled manager before he could linger on his words and pushed his way through the door. Fisted hands already making their way into his pockets as his nails dug crescent shaped moons into his palms in a desperate attempt to take the edge off of his vibrating anger.

"Ah, good, you're already here then! Thought we'd heard voices!" A cheerful lilt called out just as Matty rounded the short hallway, Jamie hot on his tail, and came face to face with a girl, who was leaning heavily against the metal rail lining the steep stairwell. 

Matty winced at the brashness of her greeting, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses at the very force of her presence. She had a mane of thick curls bundled atop her head, lips lined red and lashes winged with a heavy liner. She was definitely younger than him, but not by much, and he could only guess as he approached her, that she stood at a similar height to him too when she wasn't prancing about on metal staircases. 

His fingertips trailed across the paperboard carton he had stowed away in his jacket pocket as Jamie hurried on over to meet the woman- a beaming smile now replacing his previously dejected look. Matty bit into his cheek at the sight of it.

"Yeah, sorry if we're late! Hey, it's great to meet you, I'm Jamie and this is obviously Matty." Jamie greeted with an incessant smile Matty couldn't bring himself to look at, before his manager was gesturing towards him- the disgruntled singer he was always stuck babysitting- and then reaching out a hand.

"Adeline, but my mates call me Adi." The girl, Adi, chirped as she took Jamie’s palm in her own, her eyes flitting towards Matty long enough to get a good once over. A gesture Matty returned. "It's great to have you both here."

She wore a grin so large it practically surpassed the honey brown eyes that brightened her face. Her teeth were white, if not a little crooked, and the force of her smile showed off the metal piercing that sat against her front teeth.

"We're honestly really excited to have you on the show! We'll have a proper laugh and just chill, so there's no pressure or anything. Mouse is upstairs, by the way. Still have to set up the final bits and bobs." Adi added, her enthusiasm somehow never faltering. "You'll love her! She's the main man round here, the one who started up the show and all that. You'll be speaking to her once we begin, but depending on how everything goes I'm hoping to join the two of you at some point."

Matty merely hummed in reply, which earned him a slight jab to the ribs from Jamie, one he tried not to lash out at. And Adi’s eyes slitted a tad as she followed the gesture, though Matty noted she gathered herself rather quickly.

"So, is that all of you then? No one else to meet?" Jamie wondered politely and Adi chuckled in retort as she began to lead them up the shifting staircase, giving them both an eyeful of her long legs.

"Nah, you're in the clear. It's just the two of us running things around here."

Matty worked his jaw at her response, whilst the sound of his boots hitting each metal stair reverberated around them.

"And that works?" He couldn't stop himself from asking.

Adi's head snapped back to find him, eyes peering over her shoulder as she rounded the first small landing and started on the next set of stairs.

"Mouse was on her own for a long while before I came along. We cope fine on our own though. We might not be as big as some other radio shows at the moment, but we've got a good relationship that works well within this industry. She can be stubborn, whilst I can be pushy, and even when we butt heads over things, we're able to make up in the end for the sake of the show. I don't know how it would work, throwing someone else into the mix."

Matty gave her a curt nod.

"So, Mouse?" Jamie questioned just as they bypassed the second floor, continuing up the staircase. Matty could hear the curiosity that lined his voice.

Adi flashed them another grin. "Mouse. It's what she goes by."

"Oh?" Jamie prodded, prompting her even further. He had a right thing for nicknames, loved hearing the stories behind them or something. 

"Don't know how it came about, in all honesty. You'll have to ask. But it's been her pseudonym ever since she started as a kid."

Matty’s ears perked up upon hearing that, but it was Jamie who quizzed her.

"She's been doing this since she was a kid?"

"Technically. But no, it started out as a Twitter account, just her venting her thoughts and opinions on the music she loved. And trust me, teenage Mouse was just as cut throat and sarcastic as she is now- maybe even more so- but people loved it, still do. The idea for the radio show came about a couple years later, and that was that."

Adi stopped talking just as they reached the very top. The staircase had led them straight into an open plan room, where a large leather sofa separated the sitting area from the tiny kitchenette in the far back corner, and where half of the living space had been overtaken by a recording booth.

Matty blinked. It wasn't at all what he had been expecting.

"God, this is insane." Jamie suddenly crowed from beside him and Matty followed his manager’s wide eyed gaze to where a skylight had been fitted overhead, giving them a clear view of the bright blue skies they'd just escaped from.

"I know." Adi spoke through a breathy exhale, her eyes twinkling as she grinned up at the oversized window. "It was what sold us on the place, honestly. That, and the access we have to the roof."

She gestured over towards the closest window to the stairs then and Matty found a fire exit hatch sat just on the outside of it.

"Don't think the other tenants renting out the spaces below even know about it. Well that, or we've just been lucky enough to never to catch one another up there." She chuckled and Jamie joined her. 

Matty’s hand tightened around his pack of cigarettes, eyes lingering on the hatch. But before he could ask if he could get a quick look at it, Adi was waltzing her way across the room and over towards the kitchen. 

She waved them closer and gestured towards two sofas and a vintage looking armchair that should have looked somewhat out of place, if it hadn't been for the rest of the mismatched furniture that littered the space. From the mint green fridge shelving a chaotic range of mugs, to the wearing Victorian coffee table, which was hilariously similar to the one Matty’s grandmother had preened over whenever guests had gone to visit.

"Tea, coffee?" Adi asked and Matty dipped his head as he took a perch on the edge of an armchair facing the tele box. It looked well over two decades old and he questioned the last time he'd seen one that'd had a DVD player built into it.

"Coffee. Black."

Adi raised an amused brow but didn't comment, looking towards Jamie. "And you, Glasses?"

Jamie only chuckled at the name referring to the thick rimmed frames he often wore. "Tea, please. Milk, two sugars."

"Be with you in just a sec!" Adi winked in reply and pulled four mugs down from the fridge.

"Cheers." Jamie thanked her, smiling all the while, before a look of remembrance crossed his face. "So where's this famous Mouse of yours then?"

And as though someone had answered him, Matty looked up to find the door to the recording booth opening and watched as someone stepped out to join them.

[daughter-of-prospero]

Jonah Rant

Someone on Youtube reminded me that I rage-typed an essay-length tirade about Jonah Magnus and his status as a certified Bastard Man right after the finale. They asked if there was a chance they could see it, which was a good question because did I even still have it? Turns out: Yes! It’s evidently been chilling in Onedrive for ~2 years. So for those who wish, my thoughts regarding that awful little man are below.

Spoilers for The Magnus Archives.

I went into the finale fully ready to not hear from Jonah again. I thought ‘oh, cosmic horror, as important as he thinks he is, he’s inconsequential and John just zaps him with eye lasers or something’. I didn’t want it per se, but I thought it was plausible.

But no. Oh no. Jonah Magnus speaks again, and he hasn’t been around for all of season 5. We heard him on a recording and we heard him chanting in the background and also all distorted in a job interview flashback, but there has been no actual uncompelled words being spoken by Jonah Magnus in real time since 159.

Yes he wrote the incantation but, rather crucially, he did not read it.

I binged TMA right as it got up to the season 4 finale. I got through season 1 in one day, and season 2 the next, and then got through three and four in the days after that. I caught up just in time for 160 to drop.

So I, foolish, naïve baby that I was, had over a year to forget what this character actually sounded like, and just how much of a slimy, insufferable fucker Jonah Magnus is. Was. Bitch.

I’ve gone into this elsewhere so I won’t belabor it but one of the reasons I’m so viscerally miffed by him is because of every human character in this podcast, he is the only one that is never shown sympathetically. I’m not counting Nikola Orsinov, or NotThems, or other manifestations of the Entities. I mean of the human, or avatar-human characters he is the least grey. Morality in this show is complex and tough to think about in my brain and one of the great ways it does this is through having really layered characters with motivations that are, at least a little, understandable. Jude Perry was a violent, sadistic lady...she was also devoted to Agnes and in some ways I think you could argue they were each other’s only links to humanity until what’s-his-name came along. Coffee shop Himbo guy. Peter Lukas is a misanthrope to the max who will send people into a nether realm if they so much as look at him wrong – which is to say, look at him at all. He was also raised to know nothing but loneliness, and pursuing it was kind of the only way he ever got some sort of approval. Which also manifested as more distance.

We get these little nuggets of what brought a villain where they are now, and we certainly don’t have to excuse them, but we have some context. We have some understanding that there is humanity in there, and that understanding makes them all the more unsettling.

Not fuckin’ Jonah.

What do we know about him? He’s a couple centuries old. Great. He found out about the powers, was drawn to the eye, and decided to start body-hopping to cheat death. He’s been doing this for ages. He tried a ritual and it failed. He took his time then, plotting and planning, and being smug, and finally arriving at a hypothesis that had a lot of credence to it. Everything fell into place, he was right, its all or nothing with the entities but the Eye rules because it opened the door (or WHATEVER).

So his big motivator is he doesn’t want to die.

And you know what, this is super understandable. We don’t know what his childhood was like (Jesus, can you imagine him in a little powder wig, climbing a tree to get a high vantage point to spy on people and get blackmail on them?), but fear of death is almost universal.

And of all the billions of people on this planet, I cannot help but notice that we are not thwarting narcissistic necromancers every fifteen minutes. Because the world would have fucking exploded a long, long time ago if we had more Jonahs in it. i.e. the people who would make aggressive selfishness a full-time occupation.

There’s a sort of cocktail of shit that makes him a memorable baddie not the least of which is that he never even attempts to justify his abhorrent actions. He’s not lying to himself, or anyone else, he’s not serving a cult, or a bunch of worms. He’s in it for himself, and if he has to stack the corpses of every living thing on the planet to reach immortality he’ll fucking do it without hesitation. Couple that with his manipulations, his merciless psychological torture, and a low, smooth voice that is always so infuriatingly composed and you have a Hell of a villain.

(I maintain that one of the reasons he’s so effective is that he enunciates so carefully. He doesn’t run words together, or mumble, he never really raises his voice, he is always in control, and everything is a flex right down to the articulation. I feel like we associate crisp, clear speech with formality, presidential addresses, or theater, things like that. Where you know what you are going to say and so the recitation is more confident. We hear this happen in statements, to a certain extent, but there’s still a lot of emotional range. For 199 episodes we never heard Jonah lose this pointed, smarmy tone. People don’t talk so formally in life, or when they’re talking on the podcast. There is something unsettling and intimidating about hearing such clear and confident speech all the time. It sounds like he knows exactly what to say in any situation. It sounds like he is utterly confident in every word that leaves his mouth. It sounds like he’s in a scene and no one else got the script but him. Because that is kinda what’s going on. At the very least, he thinks that’s what’s going on)

When he drops from wherever he’s suspended in the panopticon, he, you know, sort of makes a noise because that’s gotta be jarring. And we for once, for once, for fucking ONCE hear him even vaguely uncertain. And stupido io, I thought he was finally brought low and we might get a tantrum or something.

But no. Jonah Magnus has a lot of lost time to make up for, it’s been 20 eps since he’s been able to serenade everyone with his unique brand of horny arrogance. This motherfucker has exactly a millisecond of confusion and grogginess before “I was having the most...wonderful dream”. You can hear him edging.

And he’s kiiiiind of surprised to see John by himself with a knife, but still, so blasé, so, ‘oh, is that all?’ He’s a liiiiitle regretful to hear it’s over, but immediately heads into waxing rhapsodic about seeing a thousand lifetimes and the rapture of infinite sight and suffering and other Hellraiser shit when John speaks for all of us and tells him to shut up. Yet another reason to respect him.

And John has a lovely little catharsis where he gets to tell this orchestrator of his despair that Jonah has failed because the Things that Jonah is so devoted to will die a slow death. How long has he been waiting to say that, do you think? I mean at this point there’s nothing that could do what he’s probably feeling justice but he says it himself he gets some satisfaction from “knowing that I’ll be leaving these things that you serve trapped and starving in their own private hell.”

And all Jonah has to say is: “That we serve.” To the bitter, bitter end he is determined to just...okay I was gonna say twist the knife but that seems a bit tasteless now...determined to cause even more hurt. He cannot resist, it’s kind of all he knows. He is at the edge of a cliff and taunting the person that’s about to push him off of it.

And if you ever need a posterchild for ‘hubris’ just pull up a sound clip of Jonah Magnus. He tries to play the old ‘alright, playtime’s over,’ card, brushing the dust and what-the-fuck-ever else off his suit and manipulate John again. He has the...not even audacity, he’s looped back around from being semi-omniscient, to being so confident in that omniscience he thinks he knows everything and therefore acts way more stupidly than someone without that surety. He is enough of a dipshit to try and say to John “we both know you don’t have it in you”.

Motherfucker, what have you been doing for this entire season? What have you been doing this entire show? You have purposefully created someone who has withstood the brunt of every entity and come out more or less intact. You purposefully guided him into honing his powers, and put him in a position where he has nothing to lose. Well, Martin, but Jonah can’t do anything about that. Not anymore. Because the one person who can protect Martin is coincidentally the same person who can, will, and reeeeeally wants to Kill Jonah.

“King of a ruined world and I shall never die” my ass. King? Really? You were a placeholder, my dude. The Eye didn’t give a fuck that you were at the top of the panopticon and it didn’t give a fuck when John pulled you out of it. You said it yourself, dipshit. You might have started the archives, but John IS the archives. He is the only person more powerful than Jonah and Jonah, of all people, should know this. Especially considering you could presumably see John cutting through the domains, dishing out biblical vengeance, on a warpath for your tower.

So of course, he decides to antagonize John even more if that is even possible by telling him they both know he can’t do it.

And John fucking punches him and it’s great. Extended sounds of brutal ass whooping, please and thank you.

And then we get one of two lines that sums up Jonah Magnus for me.

“P-please John, I don’t want to die”.

This guy. Who dedicated his several lives to ruling the world and feeding on everyone else’s pain. Who has committed atrocities that numerous to count and too horrible to name. Who is being confronted by the direct target of his machinations and who, I think it’s safe to say, hates him more than anyone or anything else in existence. Has the absolute fucking nerve to go “but I’m scared :(”

When he went ‘I don’t want to die’ I actually said to literally no one because I was alone in my room “HA, Fuck you.”

John puts it a bit more eloquently. “Neither did they”. Beautiful. And then he’s gutted like the repulsive little fish he is.

The second line that sums up this insufferable megalomaniac is a little earlier. It’s casual, neither of them makes a point of it. Maybe because it’s a little redundant. “Empathy only holds you back in the end”.

I don’t want to die, and Empathy only holds you back in the end.

I mean, that’s the thesis statement of the shit-eating essay that is Jonah Magnus.

He’s so far beyond regret, or anything that isn’t 100% self-motivated he cannot perceive that perhaps John will have maybe, I don’t know, changed a bit. Gotten used to horror. Killed. He cannot fathom anything outside the tower as more than a food source. He is so used to seeing people as pawns he dies not actually understanding why John killed him. “Good luck” are his last lines.

First of all, the direction is ‘wetly’ and on the one hand I know what that means, but on the other, I cannot think of a more fitting adjective to end on with this guy.

Second of all, the ambiguity of how sincere he is or isn’t being is enraging, and so classic and I hate him, which is to say fucking excellent job of writing and acting both.

He goes to his grave thinking John’s making a power grab. He cannot conceive of any other reason for John doing what he’s doing. They’re opposite ends of the spectrum. One who can think of no one but himself, and one who will sacrifice himself because he’s thinking of everyone else. You know how matter can’t be created or destroyed? I think guilt might be the same way. And Jonah found a handy receptacle for all the guilt he doesn’t have time for and that receptacle is named Jonathan Sims head Archivist of The Magnus Institute.

What a good villain. What an infuriatingly mellifluous bitch. The thinks he’s King of the World, he thinks he’s going to get such special treatment, he thinks consequences apply to everyone but him, he thinks this is a game he can win when he doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s playing.

As much as he looked at John and went “perfect, an insecure idiot”, the Web looked at him and went “perfect, a pompous ass”. He wanted to live forever, but now he’s dead. And he doesn’t even get to live on in memory. No one knew he was up there. No one remembered Elias, let alone Jonah. You think Georgie, Melanie, Rosie, and Basira are going to tell the world about him? What would be the point?

Congratulations, Jonah. You tried to ensure your immortality and ended up ensuring that you died both literally and figuratively. Before it got yeeted into another dimension The End must have had a fucking Field Day the second his heart stopped beating.

What a bastard. What an unfathomable bastard. Like he really thought this would all work out for him, that he was the most Important Thing in the world when, at best, at best he was a glorified fucking contact lens.

Ass.

[octuscle]

Full time barista here I’ve always been envious of the men on stage especially the heavy weights. Don’t want to over work the chronivac but help me become a muscle bull as big as jean pierre fux.

Mate, I understand you only too well…. There are few things hotter than the real heavy beefcakes. I've tried it long enough myself… But I didn't make it either. Jean Pierre is a pretty good role model… But I have an idea…

Friday morning. It's 06:00, you have to hurry, in one hour you have to prepare the first coffee. You don't have time for much more than a few situps and pushups. In the bathroom you have to hurry. You need longer and longer to conceal your receding hairline. You are now 40 years old, slowly you just notice that you are getting older. If you go out tonight to party, it will take you almost the whole Saturday to recover. The cosmetic industry has nothing effective to offer against the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. And even if you don't need to be ashamed of your body: You won't gain much more muscle in your lifetime.

Shit, at 07:00 o'clock people are already queuing up. You hate it when you can't open the store in peace. But as it looks, it will be 10:00 o'clock, until you have the first moment of rest. In fact, it's even 10:30 when your colleague thinks you can take a break. If you need it, he adds with a wink. You look fantastic today! You take a mineral water and sit down in the warehouse. In fact, you feel pretty damn good right now. You drink the water in one go. You don't have much time for a break. And you have to piss again before the lunch business starts. Your lower jaw drops as you wash your hands. Fuck, what happened to you. There are no more receding hairlines or laugh lines. You look ten years younger than when you got up today. The only difference is that you look as if you'd spent the last ten years doing little else but lifting iron. Your T-shirt is almost blown up by your biceps and pecs. And your jeans look like they're painted on your monstrous legs. How could you not notice that? As you tie the apron back on your way back to the counter, you wonder why you were just amazed. Since your 20th birthday, you've spent every spare minute at the gym, investing every penny you earn in protein and supplements. Hell, if you didn't look the way you do, you would have wasted a hell of a lot of time and money.

The calm in your coffee bar begins to subside again. The lunch business is starting up. There's a beefcake in your line that makes you jealous. Yo, bro! he greets you. It's nice to see that there are real men working here, too. What you can recommend to him. You suggest the protein bomb. A scramble of 10 eggs with 400 grams of chicken breast. He grins and nods. And a liter of still mineral water. The bro shares your taste. While you type everything into the register, he asks you if you're all-natural. Of course you are. With the money for the meal, he slides you a card. In case you want to think about it.

It is 17:00 o'clock, when you tie off your apron. Fuck' according to your watch you have walked 12,000 steps today on the few square meters behind the counter. But it also looks like it's been a pretty good day so far. You're 20 now, and the idea of opening your own café with healthy and, above all, protein-rich food came to you when you were 16. That's when you started getting into high performance bodybuilding. And a place like this was missing at that time. And then you built this place with your mentor and trainer as a straw man. But you can't stand behind the counter for more than ten hours. Even if you are the best advertisement for your products, you have to work out at least four hours every day. Otherwise you don't stand a chance on the big stage.

You might not be one of the big ones yet… But you are on a really good way to get there. You met Jean Pierre Fux once at a fitness fair in Germany. A great role model for you. And he said that at your age he would have been a linnet compared to you. The prerequisites for a brilliant career are there. Enjoy it and make the best of it!

This and other hot pics @anton227ludwig

[mrs-snape5984]

“I was held in chains but now I’m free…”

“Hey, little train! Wait for me! I once was blind but now I see. Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination?” (“O Children” by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)

I feel obligated to set up a trigger warning on this post, since I’m mentioning thoughts of suicidal ideation in my text. If you’re feeling uncomfortable with this topic, please feel free to ignore the following four paragraphs and skip right to my praise for the incredibly talented artist of this comic strip.

As already mentioned in some of my latest posts, I’ve commissioned some of my favourite artists here on tumblr for a special project of mine: My afterlife project.

I’m suffering from multiple autoimmune disorders, which probably have paved the way for this bitch of a disease, ME/CFS (myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome), two years ago. Sure, my life already wasn’t the easiest before, but since then, it came to a standstill. More and more, I lost my abilities, my social life, my place in the society…and surely even my participation in my own family. My days are mostly spent in bed all day and night, surrounded only by darkness and solitude.

Patients with severe ME/CFS might die earlier than expected, due to multiple organ failure and - yes, I have to admit, that this reason is, indeed, undeniably relatable (and alluring) to me - suicide. With each passing day, that I’m doomed to “live” with these confines of my personal hell… imprisoned within myself without any chance to escape… death appears to be a welcoming friend, who’s only awaiting to pull me into a tight embrace. For me, it’s like it’s written in the following poem (“Joy in Death”) of Emily Dickinson…it will be good news and maybe even a relief…not just for me.

I know, I can’t leave, yet… and that I have to stay as long as endurable - at least for my children’s sake - but… yeah, BUT… but, damn, I’m tired. My personal limits are set… my lines are drawn… my responsibilities are cleared and both of my closest friends are informed about my pathetic little wishes (please, play that goddamn song for me!). I’m prepared. But for now, I have to stay…. to fight a little longer… to be a mom, even though my kids only see me for a few minutes each day… a mere shadow of the mother, they used to know. It’s a fucking shame!

For this particular part of my afterlife project, I’ve commissioned my sweet friend @sleepybradipo, who will always be my first choice to draw my vision of the young Severus in his own uniquely tender art style, which I’m so weak for.

In my imagination, I will be able to choose, how my eternal life will look like. Finally, I’ll be with Severus! We’ll meet at the age of 11 years and eventually spend the rest of our lives side by side...growing old together. Severus and Jukes will finally get the life, they’ve always deserved to have. I’ve started to show sections of this existence by Severus’ side in some of my other posts, which belong to this project. It may sound strange and pathetic (obviously), but this is all, that I'm wishing for. I want to come home to him.

For this artwork, I asked @sleepybradipo to make the process of “renewing” visible…almost like some kind of resurrection! Jules is stripping off her old, exhausted self, only to be 11 years old again…happily running towards the 11 years old Severus, who’s waiting for her.

Ivano, at first, I felt guilty for my request for this commission. I’m constantly afraid of becoming a burden to others with my ridiculously morbid thoughts and ideas. But you, my dear friend, made me feel seen with your kindness and compassion. Your understanding of my fantasy and the way, you’ve realised it in this mesmerising piece of art, are absolutely breathtaking! I don’t know, how I could possibly show enough gratitude to express, what your art is doing to my black little heart. It’s like a bandage…a soothing balm… a comforting embrace. Thank you for everything, Ivano.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

PS: I have to apologise for my repetive use of terms in my writing this time. The lack of coherence might be caused by my current “crashing” condition and a weird cocktail of different medications. I’ll try better next time, but it was important for me, to show this heart-wrenching composition of art as soon as possible. Your work needs to be seen, Ivano!

[ethereal-tempest]

Nanami lovers lemme yap to yall rq

Soooo I’ve been working on this mafia/crime boss!Nanami x reader ting for a while and I just wanna gauge who would be interested in me actually posting it :) below is gonna be a tease of what I’m working on, if the interest is there maybe I’ll post more chapters! if not I’ll just keep writing for myself 🙂‍↕️

Time. Something you never seem to have enough of these days.

Thud.

For the better part of six years, you’ve run yourself into the ground giving time for the family, and time for the business, going overtime to make both succeed but only finding success in one and clinging to survival in the other.

Thud.

And now here you were wasting precious time… beating the shit out of some hot-headed scum. At your feet groveling on his knees sat Haruta, a low-life and deceiving arms dealer that you have the unfortunate choice of doing business with or rather had.

“Fuck! I— I don’t know.”

You ceased your punching, grabbing a fist full of the golden hair, “who have you been selling me out to Haruta?”

“N-no one I-I just gots your shipment mixed up—“ “FOUR TIMES—“ your gloved knuckles connect with his face once again, and again and again and again hitting him a total of four times before his body slumped back to the floor. Heavy labored breathes escaped your mouth as he weakly inhaled and exhaled, “Four times is not a fucking mix up, so tell me the truth…” your eyes catch sight of movement just behind Haruta's crumpled body, Maki's hand raises to her ear, listening to the person on the other end speak before turning to you. She takes quick steps around Harutas weak form, being her lips to your ear to whisper,

“Nanami is here.” You grit your teeth in irritation, there was once upon a time when that name brought you joy, and happiness even, but now the name was nothing but a bitter reminder. “Fucks he want?” Maki ducks her head again continuing to listen before leaning in again to whisper, “Says he’s gotta talk to you about something.” You sigh eyes rolling on their own, “I don’t have time for his bulls—“ “They’re saying he’s insisting on it, boss.”

A wild snarl leaves your lips, leg coming out to kick Haruta in the stomach, you weren’t dressed for this, not with combat boots black cargo pants, and a matching shirt.

“Put them in the Platimum section and lock it down. I’ll be with him shortly.”

Maki nods her head and relays your message,

Stepping over Haruta you turn to Nobora, “Stay with this bastard, make him talk. Maki with me let’s see what the blonde fucker wants.”

You walk into another room taking your time to change into your outfit for the night, a simple mini skirt with a corset top, thigh-high boots, and various accessories adorn your body accompanied by your LV purse.

Re-emerging from your room you find Maki has changed too. She previously wore an outfit similar to your old one and now wore a simple but sleek suit combination, using a lace bra in place of a shirt looking more fashionable that most bodyguards but still as intimidating.

Without a word she falls instep behind you, the subtle sounds of club music tickling your ears as you inch closer to the door of your hidden passageway.

You exit from just behind the bar, making a small stop to grab your favorite drink and continue your course.

What does he want now of all times… stupid pretty bastard. It has been years since the two of you were anything even resembling friends, let alone lovers. Both of you both grew up knowing of your fathers' double lives and went on to become their heirs assuming their obligations to leading double lives as well.

Your eyes scan the crowd around you, Mei Mei had brought in quite the crowd tonight good… the emptiness wouldn’t do you any favors if the conversation turned heated.

Finally, your eyes settle on the blonde man who came in search of your attention and it looks like he brought company.

Before you could even touch the stairs to begin your ascension to the section he had his eyes on you. A smirk graces your lips as you watch his eyes drag up and down your body before meeting your gaze.

Maki opens the rope for you to walk through, and you give a general greeting to Nanami and two additional men he has with him, watching as they stand at your arrival. “Gentleman—“ your greeting is interrupted as a strong hand snakes around your lower back pulling you into a firm chest, your eyes snap up and meet gorgeous winter blue eyes. “Baby you look stunning, it’s been too long.”

Gojo tucks his head into your neck leaving quick kisses as he makes his way up to your cheek, placing a much longer kiss before pulling back to look into your eyes. “I’ve missed you too Satoru, if I knew you were here I would’ve worn something better” A playful laugh leaves his mouth as you hear someone clear their throat.

You peer around Gojo's shoulder to see Getou and take on a shy smile while Gojo's hand slips from your waist being replaced by Getou, “Sorry about him, he pregamed before the rest of us” You simply nod your head already able to tell the white-haired man had a head start, “That being said” Getou leans down to whisper in your ear, “You do look captivating Darling, I’m sure this is driving Nanami mad.”

You bite your lip as Suguru pulls back, watching as his eyes look just over your shoulder and follow his gaze to where Nanami stands waiting to be acknowledged. He wore a nonchalant expression on his face but the vice grip he had in his cup betrayed him.

Your head shakes from side to side as you try to ignore the heated gaze you caught in his eyes and simply turn back to Getou while whispering, “One can hope so.” His chest rumbled with his husky laugh and you couldn’t help but join. The two of you quiet down and you slam back the rest of your drink, preparing to set it down and ready to finally give Nanami some attention.

Warmth replaces the chill left in your hand as you were tugged out of Getou's grip. You stumble only slightly before you catch yourself with both hands on Nanami's chest, you look up at him through your lashes and see a mix of emotions in his cold eyes, they soften slightly as he takes one of your hands in his while the other snakes around your lower back drawing you closer to him. There was something about his touch that caused your mind to think back to when you felt it constantly when you woke up, as you went to sleep, when you showered, when you laughed, while you cried, while you fu—His plush lips leave a heated kiss against your tender knuckles and you slightly wince at the action drawing you back to reality and Nanami’s eyes back to yours in an instant, before he further inspect your hands.

Even under the low light of the club he could see your knuckles were inflamed and slightly swollen from trying to beat information out of Haruta just a moment before their arrival.

“What’s this about?” He says as he gently caresses the back of your hand while drawing little circles on your lower back with his other hand and you have to fight the liquor that's quickly trying to think for you, “Don’t do that Ken— Nanami.” You slip your hand from him but don’t leave the slight hold he has on you, “Don’t what?”

You see the hint of smirk beginning to form on his lips and know he knows what you’re referring to, “What happened to your hand?” He asks instead, hoping to get an answer this time, “None of your concern.” Nanami observes you for a moment before humming and says, “If you have a moment from pummeling people into the ground I need to talk to you.” “We are talking, here now.” He rolls his eyes and it’s his turn to say “Don’t play with me.” You roll your eyes at his response, “But you know I love to play Nanamin.” “You know I hate that name.” You smile sweetly up at him happy to see the slight anger in his eyes, “If you want to talk business we’re going have to wait, you guys just got here and I have appearances to keep up with.”

He hums as he walks you back until your back hits the rail he asks, “So what do want to do in the meantime?”

You watch as he brings your hand up into his before placing it on his chest, you wet your bottom lip as you feel the warmth he radiates through his shirt beneath your fingertips and continue skimming, briefly touching the skin of his chest. Your eyes follow the path of your hand until your hand lands on his cheek and your eyes find his again, “Dance…” he smirks and your eyes fall to his lips as you bring your thumb to gently stroke his bottom lip and say, “with Geteo.” His face falls and you can feel the annoyance rolling off of him as he stands tall no longer pressing you against his body and the rail.

——

So what we think

[around1302]

XVII. YOU HAVE ME

SPARE PARTS: a series (17/20)

BOLOGNE, ITALY

(W) strong language, family restraints, alcohol use, fingering

good lord this has taken me some time to finish. i’m so sorry, life just got in the way. hopefully 4.3k of a smidge of angst and a fuck-ton of fluff makes up for it!

HARRY’S POV

“What’s the move for tonight?”

“You can do what you want, I’m taking Charlie out.”

Niall’s usual grin twists into a smirk, his eyes glinting. I resist the urge to roll my own.

I am taking Charlie out. Not that she necessarily knows that yet.

I don’t mean to sound like a desperate man, but I need Charlie and I to move on like I need air. I can feel her warming to the idea of me, but at the end of the day she still just sees me as her annoying bandmate who’s up to giving her an orgasm or two. 

I need to be more than that to her. I can’t be either nothing or just her temporary fix.

And if there’s one thing that’s apparent about Charlie, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. She doesn’t crave sneaking around and fleeting glances and meaningless moments. I’ve seen her face light up more from seeing a couple holding hands in public than when I’ve been literally going down on the girl.

In fact, in the time I’ve known her, she’s only ever dated one person – Zayn, which is also why this could get messy.

(But fuck him. I was there first).

“I’d love to say I’m surprised about this whole thing, but I’m really not.” Niall snorts.

I narrow my eyes, but before I can ask anymore questions, the guys barge into Niall’s suite.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Horan. You have it fancy in here.” Louis gawks far too loudly for the fancy establishment we’re in, but I have to say, I share the sentiment. We all have nice rooms (it’s the most expensive hotel in Bologne, for God’s sake) but Niall managed to bag da Vinci’s fucking shrine. 

Niall shrugs, sitting up with that mischievous flicker in his eyes.

“Lia still out?”

“Yeah,” Liam explains, “she’s dragging Charlie and Zayn round the shops. Tried to rope us in but we managed to escape.”

My chest tightens. I force it to relax.

Liam throws his legs up on the Ottoman, stretching out. After the show last night, we’re all exhausted. After nearly four months of touring, non stop performing and the consequential non stop partying, we’re all wiped the fuck out. It’s why Niall and I said no to their little day trip around Italy. To put it frankly: I can’t be arsed with the tourism shit when there’s a mini bar five feet away from me up here.

“Good,” Niall reaches behind him, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” I spit.

“This, my friend,” Niall flicks the box open. My suspicions are confirmed, “is about to get me the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Holy shit.” Louis grabs the diamond, making Niall fly up and snatch it back. 

“For real?” Liam stands too, while I’m still sat in shock.

“Why I got this fancy suite,” Niall’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas, “want to do it tonight. Italy’s always been her favourite place and I figure–”

“You’re twenty-one.” “Twenty-two this year.”

I scowl. Niall’s cheeky grin droops.

“Oh come on, man. Who cares how old we are? I know I’m gonna be with this girl till I’m all old and gross and grey, why not seal the deal now?”

“Because it’s insane!” I splutter. I’m not angry. Am I? Why am I angry?

“Hardly,” Louis sharply laughs, “they’ve been basically married since they met.”

“Okay, but being basically married and being actually married are two very different things.”

“Dude, don’t you think I know that? I have thought about this, you know.”

My jaw tightens.

My best friend is about to propose to his girlfriend, and I can’t say I’ve ever even had one. The girl I’ve been in lo– whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can narrow my anger down to one, ugly thing: bitter fucking jealousy. 

So, I do the mature thing; I storm out.

Luckily for me, the second I step out into the hallway – all heaving chest and unnecessary frustration – Charlie, Amelia and Zayn bump into me. They’re all laughing about something, a million shopping bags between them.

“Oh, hey man–” Zayn starts, but I cut him off by grabbing Charlie’s waist and pushing her in the direction of my room. The sliver of skin given to me below her crop top sends a spike through my spine. 

I don’t care that Zayn is probably about to start quizzing Amelia to no end, all I care about is the universe quite literally handing me the only person I want to talk to right now.

“Yo, what the fuck?” She twists, staring at me with what I assume is a mixture of vexation and confusion, but I’m too busy staring ahead to notice. Charlie doesn’t make a move to escape my grip (something I know she’s more than capable of doing), so I keep walking us to my room. 

I messily scan my keycard and grab her shopping, setting it down as carefully as I can in my haste before closing the door with her body. 

There’s something else I want to do before talk.

But, I hesitate for a moment, brushing my lips against hers. I silently ask for permission, pulling her toward me so her lower back lifts from the door and our torsos press together. She hesitates, too. Brushing her nose against mine before kissing me with as much urgency as I got her into the room with. 

I sigh into her mouth, completely wrapping my arms around her back to hold her flush against me. “Missed you,” I mumble against her lips, trailing my hand up to hold the back of her head. I rake my fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail. 

“Missed you too.” She gasps, looping her fingers through my belt hooks.

I nearly let myself smile, but then she palms me over my jeans.

Quickly, I hold her wrist, preventing me from dragging her to bed and insisting we don’t leave my hotel room all night. “Go out with me.” I let the words tumble like a subconscious spill, letting my chest do all the work so my brain doesn’t have to. 

Frowning, she pulls back. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want to rewind and let her do whatever she wants with me. Why the Hell did I–

“Go out with you?” She’s smiling. She’s smiling.

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heating. I’m getting shy, for fuck’s sake. I don’t do shy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said those four words over the years, and I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve said it to. I don’t recall nerves ever being a factor in that habit.

“You realise I’m a sure thing, right?” She cocks her head, and I want to kiss the faint dimple that pops beside her lips. I settle for her bottom lip.

“I want to take you out.” I pull her lip between my teeth, bathing in the way she sighs. “Properly.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Nope,” I pop. I need to banish this shy thing. Fuck the shy thing. I realise our proximity might have something to do with that, so I step away, flicking the light on so I can see her properly. 

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are dark and her hair is mussed and– and shit. I’m so gone on this girl. She folds her arms across her shirt, and that’s when I notice the shirt. It’s my shirt – the one I gave her weeks ago, the band she claims to hate, the shirt I’ve dreamt about fucking her in ever since. 

The shirt which now rests just below her bra. 

“Oh,” she clocks my thought process – probably because I’m staring at her chest – and fumbles with the messy hem. “Shit, sorry. I never even asked if you wanted it back–”

“Never.” I murmur.

A pause. “What?”

I blink back to reality, back to her eyes. “I never wanted it back,” I clear my throat, try and regain some conviction, “the band sucks anyway.” I wink, she chuckles.

God, maybe we should just stay here. We could order room service and continue our theme of fucking in hotel showers and spend all night getting sweatier and sweatier in between the sheets and–

No! No. I need to take her out. 

“Be ready by seven.” 

I bend to pick up her shopping, handing it back. Charlie takes the bags slowly, looking at me like I just told her my name’s actually Bill.

Then, softly, nearly meekly, she whispers, “I thought we had rules?”

My lungs stop working. “We did. We do.”

Right – I’m not even considering her right now. I know what I want, and I know I want it badly. I need to learn I can’t just demand this. Sure, I’ve waited six years, but she sure as shit doesn’t know that.

Patience is a bitch.

She looks at me, scrutinising, studying. I want to read her mind, it seems to all work so complicated up there. A million bolts and cogs working tirelessly; I’d give it all up for just a peek. 

“I suppose I’d be pretty stupid to deny we’re at least friends at this point, right?”

I can breathe again. “Right.” I rush to say.

“So… dinner as friends. Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” No, fuck no. “Bonding time.”

She purses her lips, seemingly amused. Nodding, she swivels from the door, palm wrapped around the handle and about to let me stand in my room and punch the air but…

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out first?”

Her eyes flicker accusingly at my crotch. Specifcally, my hard on, from just kissing the girl.

It’s like I’m fucking fifteen again.

I snort, pushing my tongue against my cheek to stop the habitual impulse to say something inappropriate. I want to scream yes, God, yes but I can’t. Charlie’s like some kind of kryptonite – one handjob will turn into one blowjob will turn into round after round after round.

“I’m good, love.”

Charlie scowls. “You’re really just going to try every nickname in the book, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, sweet pea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she swings the door open, so before it slams behind her I shout a reminding,

“Seven!”

And then I stand in my room, and punch the air. 

“Jesus, Styles, this place is fancy.”

I smirk. “Only the best for a princess.”

“Hey–”

“I’m kidding! Here,” I let go of the small of Charlie’s back to pull her chair out for her, “sit, before you hit me.”

“I can still reach you from over here.”

I playfully roll my eyes as I take my seat. She definitely can. I made sure to get us a table hidden away, close enough for our legs to accidentally tangle and far enough away from anyone else Charlie doesn’t need to worry about people.

She’s always panicked about mobs. The first one was pretty traumatic I guess, and ever since she’s been the overly cautious one in public. Never seen without heavy glasses and an even heavier hoodie, so I made sure she wouldn’t be spending our first date (that is what I’m declaring that is, friends or not) in fear.

It’s not conceited if saying your name for a last minute res at one of the most established restaurants in Bolonge works. Fame has it’s perks, I’m allowed to admit that.

… I think.

Within a few seconds, a waiter comes over with a bottle of red I preorded on the phone. Charlie leans back, looking at me quizzitivley as he pours us both a glass and leaves the rest between us. We thank the waiter, and I gauge her reaction.

A pause. My heart awaiting a beat.

“I’m impressed.” She raises her brows, a glimmer of a smile on her rouge lips.

“Good,” I lift my glass, clinking it against hers before we both take a sip.

I let my eyes properly roll over her for the first time since I met her outside the hotel. It was too dark and too much of a rush to the car for me to drink her in, and God. She looks fucking edible. She’s wearing a strapless dress that lets my wind wander to every inch of skin I can kiss with her still in the thing – but, Jesus, stop. 

Tonight isn’t about that.

Quiet falls on us, because, well. What do we talk about if not for the security of sex or argument, if not for the safety net of anyone else around us? Here, we’re uninterrupted. In fact, no. We’re not anything.

We’re two people on a first date. We’re fresh.

“You know,” Charlie chuckles to herself, setting her glass down and leaning on her palms, “I love trying to figure out the other people at restaurants like this. Like, okay, that couple,” she nods behind me, so I try and turn as discreetly as I can. She hits my leg. “Don’t be so obvious!” She hisses behind a smile.

I’ve just gone and made things worst myself by taking Charlie out, haven't I?

“That couple is on their first date, and he’s trying to figure out how to leave.”

“And how do you know that, Sherlock?”

Charlie shrugs and leans back to take another sip.

“I know people. He’s fidgeting like crazy, looked at the bathroom like five times in the past thirty seconds. For sure planning his escape.”

“Or he just really needs a shit.”

Charlie snorts into her glass, spraying wine onto her cheeks. I guffaw, and both of us fall into laughter too loud for an establishment like this. “Fuck, my makeup.” Charlie taps at her cherry stains aimlessly, so I lean across with my napkin.

“Here, hold still,” I chuckle, pinching her chin between my fingers and trying to get as much grapejuice from her face. In the midst of the scene, our waiter returns.

“Are you… oh.” He clears his throat, and we pause to look up.

“We might need a few more minutes.” I mumble. Charlie grins sheepishly.

Yeah, okay, maybe it is conceited – but thank God we do what we do, because judging by the compressed scowl on the guy’s face as he leaves us, we were one 0 in our bank accounts away from being kicked out.

As I’m wiping at her face, our eyes lock, and the words tumble out before I can think about what I’m saying.

“Niall’s proposing to Amelia.”

She gasps. I sit back.

Silence holds us, until a slowly whispered, “shit,” punctures it.

“Yeah.”

I see her reach for her wine. Then she downs it.

“So I told my mum Gemma was a drug dealer. Of course my mum was like, Harry, she’s nine. But it was the worst thing I could come up with at six years old.”

Charlie throws her head back at the story of myself and my sister, one of my favourite memories to relay. I stab my fork in my pasta and try and muffle my grin as Charlie giggles away.

“I never thought you’d be the type to take WWF wrestling so personally.” 

I shrug. “I was a dedicated fan. I still refuse to believe it’s staged.”

Her laughter dies, and she gets this sort of gone off look in her eyes. Like she’s thinking about something, someone, and then it hits me – I’ve been sat here reeling off stories about my sister without any regard for the fact she no longer has hers. 

“You know,” she shifts, eyes dropped to her plate. She pushes a piece of broccoli around with her silverware, chewing on her lip. Then, her voice gets quiet, small, when she admits, “I don’t think my parents have called me one time this whole tour.”

She chuckles to herself, but it’s void of any humour.

“They did their usual prayer for my safety before I left, and rang to see if I had changed my mind, but…”

I dip my head to meet her eye. She looks up at me, meekly. Like tears are threatening to spill but she’s using every muscle to hold them back. I’m so terrible in situations like this, I never say the right thing because, truthfully, people don’t often open up to me.

(Not like this, at least.)

So, I go with my gut, and pray it doesn’t betray me.

“Pretend I’m your parents.”

Charlie piques. “What?”

Confidence begins to slip from me, evident in the way I mess with my hair and twist my rings beneath the table. “Pretend I’m your parents,” I repeat – despite the out she just gave me.

“This apart of that daddy kink you were talking about?” She smiles smally. 

“No,” I lilt. “Tell me about tour. Look,” I sit up straight, bringing my hair forward and cracking my neck. Getting into character. I lift my hand to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hi sweetie, how’s tour going?”

Charlie snorts. “That supposed to be my mum?”

“I’ve never met the woman, go with it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she sits up and lifts her hand, too.

“Hi mum. It’s fine.”

“Fine? Come on, you’ve been away for months.”

She sighs, giving me that look through those lashes. I lift my brows.

“It’s been amazing, actually.”

I smile. We’re getting somewhere.

“Everyone really likes our album,” she continues, “and I started banging the one with long hair you always tell me I need to stay away from.”

“Heey,” I drop the ‘phone’. She looks pointedly at my hand. I raise it again.

She heaves a breath, her expression stone again.

“I wish you’d try and understand my job a little more. I think you’d see what I’m doing is actually really cool if you took the time.”

My chest aches. I knew Charlie had a strained relationship with her parents, I just never knew why. They’d never come to shows, she would never mention them. I don’t even remember them sitting with her at Poppy’s funeral.

Maybe when Charlie blamed herself for her sister’s death, her parents did too.

“You were wrong, by the way.”

I got so lost in my own anger I forgot we were doing this.

“Wrong?” I ask. 

“About the dude with long hair. He’s actually alright.”

I couldn’t let this night end.

We practically got kicked out of the restaurant when we wound up being the last two in there, and then we stumbled our way to my hotel room and have been laid on the bed giggling over nothing for the last hour.

Red wine is strong shit.

So far, I’ve learnt Charlie hates the colour purple, secretly loves 90s horror and sometimes worries she made a mistake by going to that audition six years ago.

“I just want a dog, y’know?”

“You can have a dog.” I laugh.

“No, no,” she flips, her hair messily cascading her shoulders as she hovers above me. I let the wine guide my hand, tucking a strand or two behind her ear. She leans into my palm. “I want a dog, and a spouse, and a kid.”

I caress her cheek, and then she lays her face completely on my chest. I freeze, watching in awe as she shifts so her legs hang off the bed and her head is on the spaces were my shirt gives way to my skin. Charlie tilts her head, closing her eyes when my fingers find home on her scalp.

I just want this, I want to scream.

“What?”

Fuck. Wait. Did I not think that?

The domestic bliss lasts all of ten seconds before she’s sitting up again.

I’m at a loss for words. I’m sure she’s going to leave, that I just fucked up this whole night, but then she’s climbing a top of me. My hands instinctively fly to her thighs, holding her close through the silk while she assesses me from above, her hair a curtain.

“You want friends with benefits forever? That’s your end goal?” She sounds amused, so I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I want to shout, is that all I am? Even after today, after everything?

I’m better at holding in my thoughts this time, though.

“You really think we can ever be friends?”

Then, she sighs and straightens. Her hair no longer tickling my neck.

“Jesus, you’re confusing. I thought that was why you took me out in the first place!”

This girl will be the death of me.

“Okay, Charlie,” I sit up, gripping her waist to pull her against me. I feel her chest huff out against mine in three quick, fluttering motions. “Let me be crystal clear,” I cradle her face, now, just brushing her bottom lip. She leans into my touch again, and I feel every ounce of self-doubt fade away with the sigh she lets out. I knock my nose against hers.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Charlie rushes to say, “You have me,” whilst fisting at my shirt.

As much as I want that to be true, I know she doesn’t believe those words in the same way I want to believe them. So, I stifle a breathy chuckle, shaking my head.

“I don’t think I do.” My throat stutters at the word baby. I haven’t tried that one out yet.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlie looks genuinely confused, which I suppose is the problem. The problem I created. I pull back, sinking into her brown eyes till I’m sure I’ve turned to stone. All I’ve wanted for the last six years is to hear Charlie say those words: you have me. Yet, in this moment, I realise I’ve gone about all of this completely wrong.

“I want a redo.” I barely whisper, insecure in my words.

“A redo?”

I quickly lick my lips. “Of everything.” I thumb at her jaw. “I fucked it all up, Charlie.”

“Fucked what up?” She deadpans, clearly tired of my inexplicability.

“You. Me. Us. This.” 

Charlie shorts out a huff, as if she’s finally got it.

“We didn’t know this would end up happening–”

“I knew.”

I let my confession barrel before me. If I scare her off, then fuck it. I scare her off. But she needs to know. She needs to know that,

“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen and you shouted at me for being late to our first recording. I knew the minute you stood there in your stupid scarf and your even stupider boots that I was going to have it bad for you and I’ve not known what to do with it since.”

Charlie looks startled, but she’s unmoving from my lap, so I take it as a sign to keep going.

“I thought that you’d always hate me,” my throat swells, “so I’ve been a prick to you and I… especially after Zayn, I just didn’t…” I shake my head, looking down, losing myself.

It’s the wine, that’s all that’s fuelling this sudden, dumb confession. The wine and the fact that right now my best friend is probably engaged. But, then...

Charlie lifts my chin.

Charlie hesitates.

Charlie’s eyes flick back and forth between mine.

Charlie kisses me.

I kiss back with force, pouring everything I couldn’t say into her lips. I hold the back of her head, moaning against her tongue as she pushes me back to the pillow and grips my shirt so hard it pulls nearly painfully against my back.

And then she stops.

“Zayn told me after Amsterdam he loves me.”

Just found the quickest way to kill a boner.

“Oh.” Is all I can say, apparently.

“But I don’t…” she trails off, her eyes dropping to my lips. “I don’t love him.”

“Okay.” I whisper. 

My insides are having a fucking party, right now.

“That doesn’t mean I love you.” She rushes to clarify. I smile.

“I know.”

“But you are the first person I think about when I wake up. And when I go to sleep. And while that’s confusing because most of the time you piss me off, you don’t seem to do that anymore.”

I try not to sound so excited as I respond. “At all?”

“I mean, don’t push it.”

I chuckle, brushing her hair from her face. But then a dreadful pit starts to hole its way through my stomach, and I have to ask,

“You’re not just saying this because you want a dog?”

Charlie smiles against my lips. “I want you, Harry.” One sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m not thinking about the dog right now.” 

I lean up to kiss her, flipping her onto her back. My hand slips under her dress, and her breath hitches. “Good,” I breathe against her mouth, rubbing her over her knickers. Her gasp travels to the back of my throat, and I swallow it, keep it, store it, run it over and over in my mind as I push her pants to the side and curl my middle finger in her.

“Stay the night?” I ask, adding my index finger.

“Oh,” Charlie moans, her head tipping back. I kiss her throat, “yes.”

“Yes, you’ll stay the night?” I nip at her neck, losing myself in vanilla and Merlot.

“Yes, Harry,” she pulls my face up, “just assume from now on I will always– fuck, stay the night.”

I grin. Her nails dig into my nape as I pull my fingers out and rub her clit. 

“God, like that,” she breathes as I push my finger down harder, tuning myself to every gasp and moan she gives me. I kiss her through her orgasm, muffling her cries with my mouth despite wanting the entirety of Italy to hear how pretty she sounds when she comes.

“Always so good for me, baby.” I murmur, gripping her thigh as I shift my weight and move her core to my own thigh, still covered by the overpriced trousers I asked Amelia to find for me. She bucks her hips, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth. I whimper.

“Baby,” she breathes questioningly. “I like that one.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

[riotkayla]

Finding the Truth: part five

Synopsis: Eddie plays at the Hideout, Willow throws a tantrum, and the call of the tattoo needle is strong. 

TW/Warnings: needles, just fluff and domestic shit, slight cursing? 

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are welcome! Please do not copy my work for your own or I will hunt you down :)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

did I edit this? a Lil but not a lot

tagging: @luceneraium @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @marvelforlife2008 @ali-r3n @shenevertricks1831 @luv4fandoms  @waitlalice @eighthwvnder @3rriberri​ 

Heavy bass is vibrating through your chest as Corroded Coffin finished the last song of the night. It was the first time in four years you had stayed up past 9:30 on a weeknight outside the comfort of your house. Wayne had begged to keep Willow for the night, going on about wanting to ring in the New Year with his favorite grandkid. Eddie was adamant about you coming to see the band play at their old stomping ground. How could you say no to those pleading eyes? 

“Hawkins,” Eddie spoke into the microphone, the crowd around you screaming. “I’ve got one more song for you tonight.” You gave Eddie a puzzled look as the chords of Journey’s song “Faithfully” came to life. “This one is dedicated to my lady.” 

Dustin bumped you on the shoulder, his grin shining through the smoke that filled the room. “Why did he add Journey to the setlist? He fucking hates them.” You called over the sound of Gareth’s keyboard. 

“They say that the road ain't no place to start a family, Right down the line, it's been you and me”

“No, he hates the Eagles remember?” 

“Dustin I know him like the back of my hand, he hates them both equa-”

“Shut up and watch Eddie,” Dustin pushed your head back to the stage, making you watch Eddie sing. You looked him over once, then again. Your eyes froze on the spot your engagement ring was supposed to be situated in. There was nothing dangling next to the guitar pick. You turned back to Dustin. 

“What is he planning?” 

“N-nothing, I swear,” he wouldn’t meet your eyes, instead he looked at the stage trying to convey their plan was about to be ruined. You watched him try to nonchalantly tilt his head to you with his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Through space and time, Always another show, Wonderin' where I am Lost without you.”

Eddie sang, glancing between you and Dustin. 

“Really? Then where is my ring?” You could feel the panic set in. “Dustin tell me what he’s planning.”  Jeff took over the vocals when Eddie finally got the message and jumped off the stage, bounding towards you. God, why did he have to look so heavenly in the dim bar lighting? 

“Hey Bug?” Eddie pulled you in, resting his forehead against yours. You locked eyes with him, a lump growing in the back of your throat. “Y’know I love you, right?” All you could do is nod, afraid that opening your mouth would cause tears to fall. 

“And being apart ain't easy on this love affair, Two strangers learn to fall in love again,”

“And I’m not gonna leave you ever again. Not in a million years,” He’s grabbing your face between his hands. “Shoulda chased you down the night I let you leave,” Calloused thumbs rubbing against your cheeks. You could feel your hands shaking as you grabbed onto his leather jacket, trying to steady yourself. Slowly he moved his hands down to your shoulders, one hand moving to his pocket. You’re frozen in place, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. 

“Eddie,” you weren’t sure where to begin. “Are you sure?”

“Baby, you are the sun, the moon, and all of the fucking stars to me. I’ve spent every day since Chicago planning our future. I don’t wanna do life with anyone else,” he’s on a knee now, your ring grasped between a finger and thumb, brown eyes pleading with you. 

“Faithfully, I'm still yours,”

All the walls were down, and with the walls came the tears. You couldn’t even form words so you just sobbed and nodded your head. Eddie gave you a smile, slipping the ring back onto your finger before giving it a kiss. It was back where it belonged. He stood up, pulling you against his chest. The crowd around you chanted “Kiss, Kiss, Kiss,” and you happily obliged. You pulled him up, hands tangling in the dark curls as you crashed your lips into his. 

“Happy New Year baby,” Eddie mumbled against the kiss, a smile growing as the two of you pulled away. 

-----

Willow would not stop screaming. It was high pitched, piercing your eardrum, making her face turn bright red. Tears were streaming down her little face as she continued to wail. It was making it impossible to listen to Eddie on the other end of the line. 

“Baby, I can’t leave tonight. They want us to rerecord half of these songs, I keep trying to hurry but I’m stuck here for the night.” Another ear-piercing scream erupted from your daughter’s lungs. “I promise I’ll be home tomorrow night.” 

“It’s fine,” you groaned, wanting to slam your head against the wall. The life of a rockstar. There was never really an off-season, always on the go to record something or tour. Eddie had been told they were only supposed to spend a few hours to start on the album but it was closing in on twilight and he was still in the city. “Can you talk to her? She misses you.” 

Since moving in, Eddie and Willow spent no time apart. He was her new best friend, the stay-at-home parent to play with all day long. This had been the first time in almost three months he wasn’t there to tuck her in. 

“Yeah, put her on,” he lounged against the brown leather couch in the recording studio. He heard you shuffle around the kitchen, trying to console the sobbing toddler. ‘mere Will- daddy wants to say goodnight’ to which another sob erupts from the background. It was driving him crazy being so far away. 

“Daddy?” there was a sniffle. 

“Hey, baby girl,”

“Where awe you?” 

“Daddy has to work late tonight,” he sighed. “I’ll be home tomorrow baby. I’ll come get ya from gran’s as soon as I get back,” there was another sniffle. “Willow, don’t cry. I promise I’ll be home real soon, ‘kay?” 

“I misses you” 

“I miss you more, goodnight princess,”

------

Bright fluorescent lights shined down, making Eddie look paler than he already was. Technically this was Willow’s idea, she wanted something for Eddie to carry around with him, and he was happy to oblige. 

“I thought you said she wanted a ring to match mine,”‘ you flexed your fingers out, showing off the emerald. 

“Yeah, but this is more my style,” Eddie grinned up at you. The tattoo artist sat on the opposite side, laying the stencil over the part of Eddie’s chest that housed his heart. “She’s gonna think it’s the coolest thing ever.”

“Yes, our three-year-old will definitely think this is cool,” you mocked him, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “Good thing you look good tatted up baby.” 

Willow was written in your penmanship, enclosed in a heart. After the fiasco a few weeks back Eddie hadn’t left home. This was the first time the two of you were out of the house and child-free since then.  Dustin came over to watch for the few hours you two would be gone. Even so, Willow still cried when she saw Eddie grab his boots from their place at the front door. If she was bad now, you couldn’t fathom to think about how she’d be whenever they kicked off the next tour.

“Hey,” Eddie squeezed your hand to grab your attention. “Whatcha thinking ‘bout?”

“Just the little monster I’ll have to deal with when you have to go back on the road.”

“Oh,” you watched the little frown formed between his eyebrows. “Maybe you guys could come with me?”

“Maybe,” you squeezed his hand with a small smile. “Just depends on if I’m Mrs. Munson by then.” Eddie rolled his eyes, wincing when the tattoo needle pierced his skin.

 He wasn’t a stranger to the call of the needle, his arms and chest littered with random pieces from over the years. If he lifted up his arm, your name branded into his rib cage, added right before you two had left Hawkins in ‘86. The collection of bats on his elbow had grown and trailed up his forearm and wrapped around the puppet that decorated his bicep. Willow loved sitting in his lap in the mornings and tracing the shapes that littered his chest with her chubby finger.

“Make sure there’s room under that heart for another name to be added,” Eddie reminded the artist, who only grunted in response. He looked back at you, noticing the confused look. “Y’know for the next kiddo.”

You hummed, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead.

[wolfofansbach]

Personal thoughts and meditations upon the occasion of the Riverdale series finale. 

Probably like four people are going to read this but I feel compelled to write it out anyway. This show has genuinely been a massive part of my life. I watched the first episode because some high school friends encouraged me to (IRONICALLY, BRO). I was in high school when I started this show. Those friends of course long ago fell away, unable to continue, unable to wacth anymore, but I have kept the faith. All seven seasons. Every. Single. Episode.

I’m not even entirely sure what captivated me so much about the show. I loved the atmosphere of season 1. I genuinely wanted to find out who killed Jason Blossom. Was genuinely fucked up by episode 1 x 12 and the first season finale.

I have such fond memories of watching the first season. I distinctly remember a road-trip I Tok with my friends the summer of 2017, and joking about  maple syrup drug empires and the “weirdo” line back when that was the wildest scene on the show. Joking about how sick of the song ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons (2017) we were. 

And then I decided to get involved in a fandom for the first time in a couple of years, and so I revived my old Tumblr, and I began Posting. And reading posts.  

That was my last summer after high school and I was so nervous about college but this show and this fandom helped me get through it. My freshman year I lived in a dorm, and if you wanted to watch TV you had to go down to this common room, so every Thursday I would go down there like an hour ahead of time and occupy the place to make sure the remote was in my hands by 7 PM. A few times I failed, and I missed an episode because of it. But rarely! 

I remember that slowly dawning feeling as season 2 progressed. Scrolling my Tumblr feed and slowly seeing people come to the realization: “wait…is it just me or does this show actually suck.” Was kind of frustrating at the time, realizing that the writers just like…were bad, but in retrospect? Beautiful. Incredible. Legendary. 

And you could even say that’s where the fun really began. Yes, there’s plenty to hate, but also Riverdale is brilliant. The show of all time. For real. No other show has done it like Riverdale. They just haven't, and they never will. The age of the cable television teen drama is ending, and what a hell of a last hurrah Riverdale has been.

The Red Circle. Jingle Jangle. The Gargoyle King. Edgar Evernever and his fantastic rocket. Bret Weston Wallis and Donna Sweett (genuinely cannot say their names without giggling). Jughead getting hit in the head with a rock and faking his death for like…some reason? I genuinely can’t remember, something to do with the Hardy Brothers idk. Tabitha sprinkling the devil with the tears of the Virgin Mary. The normies can laugh all they want about “epic highs and lows” but do they remember the even funnier lines like “if there’s no wedding, that means the gargoyle king has won” or “word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance…” THEY NEVER WILL. ONLY THE TRUE FAITHFUL UNDERSTAND. 

And is silly as it all was, I have genuine affection for these characters. Like Betty, Veronica, Jughead, Archie, Cheryl, Toni, actually mean a lot to me. YES they’re fake but I want the best for them (and for Beronica to be canon but you know we can’t win them all). I’m genuinely grateful that this show has existed and been a part of my life for the past six years. 

Moreover, I credit this show for seriously getting into writing. I’ve actually written almost a million words of Riverdale fanfiction. Much of it will never see the light of day, but it exists. Maybe I even have one or two left in me, I don’t know. At the very least I’d like to finish a few uncompleted fics. But I’ve also branched out. Since I started seriously writing in 2017, I’ve also finished several original manuscripts, and who knows, maybe one day I’ll get one published. Stranger things have happened. 

So, thanks Roberto.

And thanks to all of the very cool people I’ve run into in this fandom. I honestly wish I’d gotten to know most of you better, but them’s the breaks. Hopefully this isn’t weird but I’m going to tag a few people in particular. 

@village-skeptic. I know you’re not in the fandom anymore (lucky you), but thank you for, once upon a time, reading every one of the 200,000+ words of a 17-year-old kid’s turgid, indulgent, Riverdale Spanish Civil War fan fiction. I never, ever would have finished that story without you, and I credit it with giving me the confidence to keep writing, and in fact to write everything I’ve written since then. You’re brilliant and awesome. 

@satelliteinasupernova. Thank you for also reading Interbellum (are we noticing a pattern), and more importantly for all of your wonderful drawings. INCLUDING fanart of some of my fics. You have no idea how happy that Strange Death of Elizabeth Cooper piece made me. You rule. 

@sullypants. You were a perennial presence on my feed. Always wonderful to see. I love your taste in art, and I love those ‘penguin classics’ covers you made for a few of my fics. Thank you also for beta reading a few fics for me back in the glory days. And thank you for chatting with me a couple times over the years, including a few times when I was in quite unhappy places. 

@stillhidden. I’m not sure if we’ve ever actually talked, but you like or reblog everything I post and it makes me feel like I’m not just shouting into the void. Same goes for @frauleinfunf Thank God for dutiful mutuals. 

@sonyascomet. I can’t remember when I started following you but you have a really good sense of humor. And I’ll always remember when you kept posting about “Greg” for Succession and I, not knowing anything about Succession, kept imagining Greg Heffley. 

@stillhidden thank you for your world-weary Riverdale posts. You truly understand fandom like few others.

@halcooper. Your devotion to the neglected parents of Riverdale is truly admirable. Every time I see Lochlyn Munro in some weird low budget horror movie I’ll think of you.

I hope I didn’t forget anyone who would be offended by my forgetting, but I doubt it. 

All this to say this show has been a genuinely huge part of my life for six years. SIX YEARS. I graduated college, my God. I wish I could say I became a millionaire or a successful author in that time, but nah. Maybe one day, but for now I’m just kind of vibing. And unfortunately, I’ll have to vibe without Riverdale from now on. 

But as I sit myself down to watch the very last episode of this show, I remind myself that we’ll always have the memories. And I’ll always be an unapologetic Riverdale enjoyer. As a great man once said, snakes don’t shed their skins so easily. 

[butyou-callmewhenyourebored]

When We Are Together - Matty Blurb

Author's Note: Just a little something to tie you over whilst I try and spring some creativity from my brain and write my new Matty piece. A little blurb that stems from the When We Are Together imagine. p.s If you would like to discuss the playlist, I know some of them might not make sense, but I can tell you my reasonings behind picking the songs etc just send me an ask! Enjoy! x

Warnings: None really. Use of the word fuck if you'd like to be warned!

762 words

When We Are Together

Since finally getting with Matty, you had been essentially been MIA from anyone that didn’t have direct contact with you. Luckily for you, you were essentially shagging the boss so it didn’t really matter if you were late for work or not because he was the one who was making you late in the first place.

Your eagerness to always want to just be on him was easily accepted by Matty because the desire to have his way with you was constant. Much to your brother’s dismay but he kept his mouth shut because he had already given you his blessing but it didn’t stop you catching him looking at you like he wanted to gorge his own eyes out whenever he caught the two of you with your hands all over each other even if it was innocent.

The two of you were sat together on the sofa in the rehearsal room. The boys preparing for an upcoming performance on The Jonathan Ross Show. The boys out on a cigarette break/coffee run whilst the two of you sat intwined as he pottered about on his laptop. Your head on his shoulder, his hands rubbing soft circles into your thigh that were draped across him when a thought popped into your head causing you to sit up suddenly.

“Everything alright darling?”

“You said you’ve been writing songs about me for over a decade.”

“Yeah of course I have. I’ve been in love with you since I was 17 years old.” He laughed against your temple as he pressed a kiss to it.

“Can you tell me? Seeing as I’m such a muse for you rockstar!” You smirked pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I can show you, if you like? I’ve got a Spotify playlist.” Matty chuckled as he turned his laptop in your direction before passing it over to you.

You looked at his open Spotify profile for a moment before turning back to your boyfriend. “Am I supposed to guess which playlist I’m listening to or are you going to give me a clue Healy?”  You cocked an eyebrow at him playfully causing him to roll his eyes at you.

Reaching over you, Matty scrolled through his playlists before landing on one. Your breath immediately got stuck in your throat as you caught sight of the four word title.

‘Love of my Life’

Your eyes flitted to him for a millisecond before turning back to the playlist. Your hand flying to your mouth as you tried to process the information. “It’s in chronological order too.” Matty whispered, squeezing your thigh. You would have laughed if you weren’t so overcome with emotion as you read all the songs that you had inspired. You really were intertwined with every era of this band without realising.

Fallingforyou

Settle Down

This Must Be My Dream

I couldn’t Be More in Love

Be My Mistake

Tonight I wish I was your Boy

You and Me Together Song

Oh Caroline

All I need To Hear

When We Are Together

I’m in Love With You

Happiness

About You

“Seriously?”

You managed to choke out. Your eyes glossy as you turned to look back at him. He nodded. “But Fallingforyou came out like a million years ago!” You laughed through the sob that had erupted from your chest before falling against your boyfriend. 

“I told you, I’ve been in love with you for forever.”  

Which just made you cry even more.

Then the boys returned, your brother leading the troops. Two cups in his hand, your fave coffee order ready for the long day of band stuff they had ahead of them when he spotted you crying in Matty’s arms.

“Dude why the fuck is my sister crying? What the fuck have you done Healy?”

The anger bubbling in him, thinking he had hurt you in some way. Not wanting a fight to break out, you pulled away from Matty, sleeves of shirt wet from where you’d try to contain the emotions that were spilling out of you. When you finally felt composed enough to converse with Ross, he was already on his knees in front of you ready to comfort you. You reached out to hold his bearded cheek sweetly.

“He’s done nothing. He was just showing me this.” 

Dropping your hand, you turned the laptop round to show him what had made you so emotional. Your heart physically bursting from how much you loved this stupid curly haired man sat next to you. The two of you watched your brother flit his eyes across the playlist of songs before his eyes landed on you wide.

“Seriously? This entire time?”

Matty just smiled.

“The entire time.”

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

this not the weirdest thing i ever send ask to you but what if shrek forever after malec au they got into a really big fight and magnus said something along the line of "wish I never marry/met you" and bam his magic lash out and turn it into reality

“Why does everything have to turn into an argument with you?”

“I’m sorry being with me is so difficult for you, Alexander.”

Alec groans loudly, “That’s not what I meant and you know that. Stop twisting my words.”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Magnus—“

“I am miserable here,” Magnus yells. “I am so fucking miserable here and you know that.”

Alec sighs as he moves closer to his husband. He takes Magnus’s hand in his and rubs over his knuckles.

“Baby, I know. But it’s getting better. Things are changing.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

Alec runs his hand over his face in frustration. “I know today was a shitty day but you’re blowing things out of proportion. I—“

Magnus steps back, anger written all over his place. “How dare you say that after how your council behaved with me?”

“Have you forgotten that I did take your stand or what? I fought with them, Magnus. I told them that that language would not be tolerated against my husband,” Alec yells back, never one to back down.

“I deserve respect as a person, Alexander. Not just your husband,” Magnus says tiredly. “Your council stepped down because I’m the inquisitor’s husband. But what about the other warlocks? What about Magnus Bane? They will never respect me as a warlock, Alec.”

He knows Alec fought back but it’s not enough. It’s not enough after the words that were thrown at him. Not after the disdain on everyone’s faces.

Magnus isn’t new to the discrimination and the disdain and hatred. But just because it’s familiar, doesn’t mean it’s easy.

“These are old, stuck up assholes, Magnus. These are hundred year old traditions and it’ll take time to change them, I—“

Magnus’s voice is thunderous as he replies, “I am four hundred years old, Alec. So, you do not need to tell me how difficult it is for traditions to change. How long it takes for someone to let go of their hate. Or pain. It took a lot out of me to move to fucking Idris with you but I did. For you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that. I didn’t ask you to leave Brooklyn for me. I didn’t ask you to change your life and I’m sick and tired of you holding against me,” Everything stuns the second the words are out of Alec’s mouth. He sees Alec’s face turn into horror as the reality of the words hit him.

“I came for you,” Magnus whispers but his voice is loud enough in the silence of the room. “Because I love you. And I thought we deserved to be together after all that we went through.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t—“

Magnus raises a hand to stop Alec from apologising.

He doesn’t care for apologies right now.

He wants Alec to hurt.

“And maybe things are changing and the world would look a lot different if I’d just wait but what if I don’t fucking want to, Alec?” He breathes. “What if I don’t want to or shouldn’t have to suffer. I have had enough.”

“Magnus—“

“You don’t get to stand here infront of me and tell me that I’m blowing things out of proportion when since the second I’ve stepped in this city, all I’ve received is hate and snide remarks. I have heard everything and more than you will ever know. About how I’ve corrupted you. Or cursed you. And ruined you and I have listened to every single one of them so that we get to fight for a better world but I am done,” Magnus roars and steps back.

“I was wrong to believe that love is stronger than anything else,” Magnus exhales before he takes the final blow. Before he says the things he knows will hurt Alec the most. “I wish I had never married you then I wouldn’t be in all this pain.”

_______________________________________________

He stretches his body as the sun shines through the curtains and disrupts his sleep.

Magnus groans as he hides his face in the pillow beneath him. He lets out his hand on the other side of the bed but it comes up empty. Magnus opens his eyes and frowns to find nobody on the other side.

Confusion flood him as Magnus doesn’t remember anyone being there the previous night either so he’s not sure why he expected someone to be there.

He just did.

Weird.

He can’t go back to sleep after that so he decides to start his day a bit early.

Magnus pours coffee for him and it tastes not that great. Then he magics coffee from his favorite cafe in Berlin and it still tastes weird. It’s not bad—it’s just not that great.

Even the shower doesn’t feel that great. It’s weird when there are two vanities in the washroom but he knows he redecorates his house all the sound so ignores it as well.

A couple hours later, Magnus portals to the institute. He had to rework the wards.

It’s always nice to meet Isabelle too. Jace though, the Jury is out on that one.

There’s another Lightwood sibling but Magnus has never met him. He’s just transferred from Idris.

Magnus imagines him being the biggest dick.

“Magnus!!”

He turns to find Isabelle Lightwood, with a beaming smile on his face.

“Isabelle, hi darling.”

“I want you to meet someone,” Isabelle says before she turns.

Magnus’s mouth open as his eyes land on the beautiful man right next to Isabelle. He’s a walking dream and everything Magnus likes in a man. Tall, dark and handsome.

“Hey,” the man says hesitantly. “I’m Alec Lightwood.”

“The new head?” Magnus asks as he offers his hand. “I’m Magnus Bane.”

“Co-head.”

“Hmmm. And is Alec short for something?”

The man blushes and something flips inside his chest. He’s not sure what. But there’s been a void inside of him since he woke up today. Like right was left and left was right. Like how it would feel if everything tilted to a 17 degree angle. Right now, the world feels back on its axis but that void remains.

“Alexander. But no one calls ne that,” Alec replies.

Magnus smiles back. “And who is this Co-head?”

All blush and smile leaves Alec’s face and there’s emptiness on it as he replies. “My wife. Lydia.”

And Magnus feels that for some inexplicable reason, the world will never feel right again.

Part II

[danvillecheese]

why do u think act ur age is fucked

[cracks knuckles] alright. essay time. you asked for it.

I’ve done a similar response to this before here and mentioned something else about it here but I’ll go over it again since those posts are both from a while ago. also bear in mind I haven’t seen aya recently bc I don’t like it. okay let’s get into it

[also im gonna preface this saying maybe i sound very pessimistic but im ranting and its just gonna sound like im complaining because i am. i mean no real malice by the way. im simply a person with a blog.]

first off. they don’t use the show don’t tell as well as they could. in the what might have been montage, sure, they showed potential scenarios and how phineas felt (very briefly) when isa stopped visiting his backyard but it just feels so rushed. I get that they only had like 11 minutes to show it but idk there has to be another way to write it. or just not have it at all idk its just from a writing point of view the whole episode feels rushed and out of place from everything else continuity-wise. why not use little easter eggs planted in the show beforehand? operation crumbcake? pharmacists? meapless in seattle? god theres so many episodes with evidence that phineas liked her back even if he didnt know. just. continuity!!!!

second. why did their friends not try something sooner. it’s not like they didn’t know. like phineas seems to be okay with saying “i wish! i am so in the friend zone there” in front of his friends (that quote alone makes me lose my shit but that’s a whole other point) so clearly they knew about phineas. and isabella also wasn’t quiet about it (source: pnf s1-4). they had like four years of high school to do something and they planned it the day isa left for college? nah its just the least realistic thing ever for me. also them being 18 is like yeah okay maybe the slow burn was worth it and theyre way more grown up (i love a good slowburn) but ohhhhhh my god SURELY their friends were getting sick of them dancing around each other. just me?

third. and I’m sorry to ash simpson but oh my god I hate the character designs like They Would Not Fucking Look Like That. it almost feels like it completely disregards their arcs during the original summer. like yeah child chub disappears over ur teen years but sometimes it stays a little longer! make phineas less twiggy!! make isa look more like her mother! (am i about to redesign them again? whoops)

four. and i know this is no fault of dan and swampy but the show was about to end anyways and yet the entire friend group was paired off into hetero ships?? get fucking real. none of those kids are straight. realistically, i know it was a different time and gay marriage wasnt even legal in the us yet so it wasnt all that common to have queer romance on screen let alone on disney channel but like i said, the show was about to end. what were the disney channel execs gonna do? cancel it? lmao

five. "I am so in the friend zone there." "we are guys. we do not talk about our feelings." WHAT!!! i cant believe this shit is real. these lines of dialogue are canon. what the hell. what kind of message does that even send to younger, impressionable viewers? if ur a 10 year old boy watching that (ok fine maybe that isnt gonna stick with you forever but listen) and you go 'oh its okay to just bottle everything up and not tell my friends about my feelings about anything ever' that is insane! thats not how things should go!! like i get the whole "im so in the friend zone" and yes, this also has to do with the era but like if they wanted to be a more progressive cartoon that kids look up to and enjoy maybe they just. shouldn't have put that whole conversation in.

i barely have any problems with the b plot. in fact id watch the episode just for the kazoo solo. because that plot lines up with the continuity. i can totally see heinz having bowling night with perry and carl and monogram every week! i can totally see perry and monogram retired! and carl running owca and getting payed for it! that all checks out! that one makes sense and works with the canon! if they got that plot so right how did they get the a plot so wrong?

i can answer this question: fanservice. its an awful word, i know. act your age is a fanservicey episode which is why i think it crashed and burned. mml season 2 is rooted in the same issue: doof is very present and takes away from the original plot of the show. like, the one he wasnt even in until the last episode of s1. slightly getting off topic but it is the crux of the issue. fanservice doesnt make for good storytelling. even if it brings in the big bucks. at its core, telling the story the way it should be told is the best one. even if it pisses people off. a good portion of the viewers will still appreciate whatever ending the creators come up with. and no, im not saying phinbella shouldn't have become canon, in fact i really like the ship and all their dynamics, i just think they went about it the wrong way.

as someone who's written and published fic about them getting together in different universes (granted, they were from when i was younger so its mildly terrible. take them with a grain of salt) there are a lot of other ways to tell that story canonically. honestly, i think the best way of doing it was to keep it ambiguous. dont tell that story. let the viewers pick their own ending for phineas and isabella. maybe they dont get together after all. who knows!

thanks for the ask! hope you had fun getting lectured <3