#they said that i should try to stay away from too much lesbian drama

[el-the-cell]

Oh alright. Something beautiful happened to me today. I flew to london to visit my father.. On the train from the airport i hear two women talking in my native language wondering where they should get off. They seem very nice and also maybe lesbians? So i ask them if they need help, and we find out we're going to the exact same underground station. I start heading there but there were several delays and it took a while, we also had to take a bus instead, and so on. They ask about me and what i do, and tell me about their lives, how they both take care of dogs for a living, and live together in the southern countryside and so on, how they were together for 14 years before they got married 2 years ago etc.

By the time we reached our destination it felt like i had known them for a long time, and they hugged me good bye and also i told them how i was so glad to have met them, because i am like them too. And they laughed out loud and were like: sweetie, we knew since the moment we saw you. And they gave me relationship advice, and also general good life tips, and a delicious carnival treat they had brought form their region (as a thank you for getting them to the underground station).

Anyway, i don't meet many queer people irl, especially not any who are my parent's age, and are in such a wholesome relationship, that i can look up to like that. I will treasure this memory for a long time.

[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 7,970

Warning: Smut, Some Swearing, Age Gap

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***Raising Suspicions***

Kurt was quick to tell Amanda about his suspicions. He was sure that Cillian and you were involved after he’s seen Cillian’s watch at your apartment, lying on his study desk along with an empty condom wrapper.

He wasn’t surprised, knowing very well that you preferred older partners and that he was the exception all along. But Amanda didn’t buy into his suspicions.

‘Common Kurt, you are being ridiculous. Cillian wouldn’t be interested in Y/N’ Amanda said, but Kurt simply raised an eyebrow at Amanda’s comment.

According to Amanda, you weren’t Cillian’s type. You were too young and too outspoken. In addition, she explained to Kurt that Cillian wouldn’t like your tattoos, piercings and your involvement on social media. You were completely different to Amanda, not just physically but also mentally. You were an extrovert whereas Amanda was an introvert. She was mostly quiet and reserved whereas you were loud and direct.

Despite Amanda’s comments, Kurt didn’t back down and eventually confronted Cillian when they were on their own.

‘Are you fucking my girlfriend?’ Kurt asked Cillian out of the blue.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian responded somewhat flustered by Kurt’s question.

‘It’s a simple question Cillian. Are you fucking my girlfriend? Yes or no?’ Kurt asked again angrily, starring at Cillian’s watch again.

‘Did someone spike your coffee this morning or something?’ Cillian asked somewhat annoyed, making Kurt sound absurd.

‘Alright, don’t fucking answer my question then but, just so you know, since you are always trying so hard to stay out of the tabloids, it would look really fucking bad if you left Amanda for a woman half your age’ Kurt went on to say, catching Cillian by surprise.

‘You have issues man’ Cillian said angrily before walking away from the conversation, getting on with the things he had to do for the arts and music festival.  

Despite Cillian’s immediate reaction to Kurt’s question, Kurt’s comments didn’t leave Cillian’s mind for the remainder of the day.

Of course, it would be bad if he was involved with someone half his age, especially shortly after separating from Amanda which was something that wasn’t even public knowledge yet and it was exactly this what made Cillian think about whether he should continue seeing you.

With these thoughts on his mind, he became rather distant over the next few days, not returning your calls and messages, only engaging into conversations with you when he absolutely had to.

You were frustrated by his behaviour and the least you were expecting from him was that he would talk with you about what happened between you. If he believed it was a mistake that you slept with each other, then you wanted to know.

Eventually, a week had passed and nothing had changed.

***New Woman***

After having been upset and frustrated with Cillian and Kurt, you’ve given up on men all together and, on a Thursday evening, your closest friend Emily and her fiancée Judy took you out to a LGBT friendly bar in Dublin.

It was cocktail night and Judy introduced you to a friend of hers named Kirsten. Kirsten was a local Dublin artist and photographer and you got on with her quite well immediately.

You spent the entire evening talking and dancing and you eventually had a few too many drinks and left the bar together with Kirsten.

Sharing a taxi together, you got quite comfortable on the backseats and things eventually got heated between you and Kirsten when Kirsten leaned in and kissed you passionately while running one of her hands between your thighs.

Her lips were soft and smelled like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and you couldn’t resist but give into the kiss on the backseat of the taxi.

‘Did you want to come to my place?’ Kirsten asked when your lips drifted apart.

‘I probably shouldn’t…I have been making a few mistakes lately’ you whispered, knowing that Kirsten was, in fact, in a relationship with someone else.

‘It could stay our little secret you know’ Kirsten smirked but, despite the large amount of alcohol you had to drink, you shook your head.

‘Listen, you are gorgeous but I don’t do one-night stands, I am sorry. Perhaps we will meet again under different circumstances’ you said with a tender smile before allowing Kirsten to kiss you once more just before the taxi driver pulled up in front of her apartment.

After a short final kiss, Kirsten got out of the taxi and walked into her apartment while you remained sitting, asking the taxi driver to take you home.

When you got home, you quickly undressed and let yourself fall onto your soft and large vintage style bed which is where you remained fast asleep until 8 o’clock the following morning.

At 8 o’clock, your phone beeped and it was text message from your sister with a link to one of the bar’s patron’s Twitter Accounts…

******************************

“New Relationship for Y/N L/N with sexy Dublin artist Kirsten Lang??? It looks like Kurt Spencer is finally out of the picture”

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This was a nightmare, you thought. The last thing you needed was false information being out there about you while you were still dealing with your break up from Kurt and all you could think about was Cillian.

But, there was nothing you could do about it and, after digesting the news, you had a shower and got ready for another day of organising this arts and music festival.

When you arrived at the usual meeting spot, everyone had already seen the Twitter post and Kurt immediately gave you a serving about it, asking you why he wasn’t invited for a threesome with your lesbian friend.

‘Fuck off’ was all you managed to respond with. Still hungover and angry about the Twitter post, the last thing you needed was Kurt making a comment like this.

With your coffee in your hand, you eventually sat down next to Cillian who looked at you with a half grin on his face. His eyes were full of questions but he didn’t say anything at all.

‘What?’ you asked, annoyed by the way he looked at you.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked concerned.

‘No, I am not fucking alright, ok? I am sick of this shit’ you said with frustration as you scrolled through the Twitter comments.

‘You need to be more careful about who you hook up with in public. Trust me, I speak from experience’ Cillian chuckled, referring to that one night a few years ago where he was caught by cameras having a night out with one of his female co-stars. The incident caused his first major fight and break up with Amanda until it became public that Cillian and his female co-star were, in fact, accompanied by his co-star’s boyfriend and several other members of the film crew.

‘Well thanks for the advice’ you said angrily, still unsure why he cared.

‘Was it worth it at least?’ Cillian asked carefully, trying to figure out whether anything happened between you and Kirsten  

‘Nothing happened. We just kissed. So no, it wasn’t fucking worth it’ you said. You couldn’t help but chuckle yourself knowing how idiotic this all was.

‘You’ve got two choices here. Either, you set the record straight or you let it go Y/N’ Cillian said calmly, feeling genuinely sorry for you.

‘What would you do in my situation?’ you asked.

‘I’ve learned not to give a shit about gossip like this over the years. Personally, I would let it slide. But I can see that it bothers you, so get your manager to make a statement on your behalf or, like you young people do, make a statement yourself on this platform with the bird on it which I think is where the rumours are coming from, right?’ Cillian recommended with a warm smile.

‘What Twitter?’ you laughed.

‘Yeah. Or you can use whatever social media platform you young artists use these days’ Cillian suggested.

‘Good idea old man. I will make a tweet’ you laughed. ‘But tell me, if you don’t use Twitter, how did you know about it in the first place?’ you went on and asked.

‘Kurt has a big mouth’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Of course’ you sighed.

After the initial Twitter drama, your day working with Cillian went exceptionally well and you felt much better after setting the record straight on Twitter, having your followers and fans interact on your post and offering their support.

You finished up after about five hours, ready to head back home in order to have a lazy evening.

‘Do you want a lift back home?’ Cillian asked after you indicated that you would be leaving and were ready to catch up on some sleep. You had told Cillian earlier that your car was still with the mechanics and he could see the tiredness on your face.

‘No thanks, I will walk’ you said despite the fact that you were tired and walking was the last thing on your mind. You were trying to spend as little time as possible with Cillian.

Cillian nodded and, just like this, you were out of the door.

‘You know, if you like her, perhaps just tell her’ Janine, the administration assistant, said to Cillian after having observed his interactions with you for the past few weeks.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian asked surprised and with a slight chuckle.

‘It’s obvious that you like her. Just as it is obvious that you touched the damn printer again last week even after I told you not to’ she then went on to say.

‘I am sorry about the printer’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Sure you are’ she laughed before walking off.

***Change of Mind***

Unfortunately for you, the following day, which was also going to be the last day of working with Cillian and some others on the festival preparations, was going to be even worse than the last.

You barely made it to the office on time again, not having had much sleep again. You were on to your third cup of coffee and had been taking pain killers all night.

‘Fuck Y/N, you look awful. Are you alright?’ Cillian said as you sat down next to him and, over at the copier station, he could see Janine shake her head in disbelieve. He just told the woman he liked that she looks awful. He was a hopeless case she thought.

‘Oh, thanks Cillian. That makes me feel better’ you chuckled as you took a sip from your large cup of coffee and popped yet another two tablets of paracetamol.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it this way. You just look unwell’ Cillian said shyly, looking over to Janine for guidance. She nodded in approval.

‘I am fine. It’s just the time of the month’ you responded quietly and with some embarrassment.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked with some confusion.

‘She means that she’s got her period Cillian’ Janine chuckled from behind before walking off.

‘Right. Of course’ Cillian said, his cheeks starting to flush. ‘Why didn’t you just stay at home if you are unwell?’ he went on to ask.

‘Because my apartment won’t have any electricity until 8pm. They are finally fixing the central heating system’ you explained.

‘Bad timing’ he responded.

‘I know. I will go to my sister’s later for dinner. Although I don’t really feel like it. She’s got two young kids who are quite a hand full and all I want to really do is chill and watch Netflix’ you whined.

‘Well, if you want to, you can come over to my place. No kids there and we could get some food, watch a movie and then I will drive you home once the electricians have left’ Cillian suggested.  

‘Do you actually mean that or is this a “come up for tap water” type of situation?’ you asked causing Cillian to laugh.

‘You just said you have your period so it’s defiantly not a “come to my house for some tap water” type situation’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Believe it or not, some guys are into that. It’s just that I am not’ you giggled, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows.

‘I can assure you that I am not one of those guys. Just a movie and some food, alright?’ Cillian laughed and you nodded, knowing that this would be a mistake but you much preferred a quiet evening with Cillian than a loud evening with your nephews while you were battling your period pains.

Just as promised, after a long day, Cillian took you home with him after you cancelled on your sister.

He dropped you at his house first, showing you how the TV works, before leaving you there on your own for half an hour so that he could organise some food for you as his fridge was usually empty now that Amanda had finally moved out.

While he was gone, you looked around the living area and you noticed that all pictures of Amanda and Cillian had gone. He clearly had moved on.

Eventually, you lied down on the lounge, watching TV and it wasn’t long until Cillian returned with two large shopping bags and it looked to you like he was going to cook for you.

‘When you said food, I expected pizza or chinese take away’ you said surprised before telling him that no man had ever cooked you dinner before and you were delighted by his efforts.

‘Nah, I enjoy cooking’ Cillian said with a warm smile as he continued to unpack the grocery bags.

Amongst ingredients for risotto, he also bought a caramel fudge ice cream, a bottle of wine, a hot water bottle and very warm ruby red socks.

‘Please explain’ you giggled as you held up the socks.

‘The last time we watched a movie together, in your bed, you had your feet wedged between my lower thighs because they were cold’ Cillian laughed before running his thumb over your cheeks and then pulling away, realising that he might have overstepped the line once again.

‘Thank you, you are very observant’ you said, feeling the want to kiss him but holding back.

‘How about you have bath while I do this’ Cillian then suggested and your eyes lid up. Your apartment didn’t have a bathtub but you also didn’t see a bathtub in the bathroom you used the last time when you came to Cillian’s house.

‘I feel bad. I should really help you’ you then said, feeling guilty that Cillian was doing all the work.

‘There is no need Y/N. Common, I will run you a bath’ Cillian said before showing you the way upstairs to his bedroom.

‘You’ve got nice taste’ you said as you looked around his bedroom and observed the quite obviously new furniture and artwork.

‘Thanks’ Cillian chuckled as he grabbed a fluffy white towel from the large cabinet inside his walk in-wardrobe.

The entire bedroom was furnished with modern wooden furniture and only a little decoration. Over the bed there was a large painting of a landscape in France and the bedside lamps were almost contemporary or vintage.

Across from the large king size bed was a spa bath and, behind a nook, there was the rest of the bathroom. The entire area could be closed by a large sliding door or could be left open if you wanted to watch TV.

You watched Cillian put some bubble bath into the tub and then turn on the water before changing the lightening and handing you the towel, a t-shirt and your brand-new fluffy socks.

‘I will be downstairs alright?’ he said with a warm smile and you nodded shyly.

You got undressed as soon as he left the room and sank into the hot water. It was delightful but you wished he would have joined you for the bath.

He was very different from Kurt, caring and romantic and you wished that he would let you in, give you chance.

After your bath, you returned downstairs wearing nothing but the t-shirt Cillian had given you, your panties and the red fluffy socks.

‘This was so nice’ you said as the pain in your stomach had decreased. ‘And this smells so good’ you added as you looked what Cillian was cooking.

‘Before I put all this chilli in there, do you like spicy food?’ Cillian asked as you stood next to him, closely watching what he was doing.

‘I love spicy food so bring it on’ you giggled, giving Cillian a big smile.

***Return of Romance***

After you both ate dinner and cleaned up the dishes, Cillian had a quick shower before sitting down next to you on the lounge in a t-shirt and trackpants.

‘Still bad?’ Cillian asked as he observed you holding your stomach.

‘Yeah, it usually lasts a day or two’ you said and, without asking, Cillian got up and boiled the kettle.

Moments later, he returned with the hot water bottle he had purchased and placed it onto your stomach before indicating to you to lie down on the lounge and pick a movie.

‘Seriously? You let me pick a movie again?’ you asked as Cillian sat down next to you.

‘I know I might regret this but yeah’ Cillian chuckled just as you put one of the small lounge pillows onto his laps and rested your head on top of it.

Cillian’s hands soon found your hair and ran his fingers through it gently while you searched through Netflix.

‘Please, no’ Cillian chuckled as you stopped at Pretty Woman and cheekily pressed play.

It was your favourite movie and Cillian already regretted giving you the remote control.

About ten minutes into the movie, you shared some ice cream and then you sat up next to him, curling up against his chest watching Julia Roberts seducing Richard Gere.

You were still in pain and Cillian noticed, his hand rubbing against your lower back gently while you held onto your hot water bottle.

‘Are you alright?’ he whispered while you took in the scent of his aftershave.

‘Hmm, yeah this is nice’ you murmured, referring to Cillian’s hand massaging your lower back gently.

‘I am glad that I am not a woman’ Cillian chuckled just before he moved some of your hair out of your face which was when you looked up at him, starring into his deep blue eyes yet again while Richard Gere was taking Julia Roberts over the piano.

‘I always wanted to do this…on a piano’ you said quietly, causing Cillian to chuckle again but then lean forward, pressing his lips onto yours gently.

You loved the feeling of his soft lips on yours and gave into the kiss which was long, gentle and passionate.

Then your lips drifted apart and you looked at each other full of questions before they met again, this time more intense than before, your tongues meeting and moving in sync.

‘I missed this’ Cillian whispered as your lips drifted apart, his hands caressing your face gently.

‘So did I’ you said quietly before wanting more, kissing Cillian again, not getting enough of his sweet lips.

You spent the remainder of the movie curled up against each other, touching each other and kissing each other until, finally, Richard Gere climbed up Julia Robert’s balcony ladder with a bunch of flowers, admitting his love to her.

‘God that is so damn romantic’ you said as your eyes began to water, Cillian looking at you somewhat confused.

‘If you say so’ he chuckled before giving you another kiss and taking the ice cream bowls to the dishwasher.

‘I should probably get home soon Cilly, I am pretty tired’ you said as you got up, following him to the kitchen but not really wanting to leave.

‘You can stay the night if you want’ Cillian said, his hands on your hips, pulling you close for another kiss.

You nodded shyly before asking him whether he would give your lower back another rub. No one had ever done this for you before and it felt amazing, taking away some of the awful pain.

‘I could give you a massage in bed’ he smirked, causing you to look at him with some confusion.

‘Are you being cheeky?’ you asked, thinking that he intends to get kinky with you which was not what you were after while on your period.

‘No, I am serious’ Cillian said before kissing you again briefly. ‘Let me show you what these hands can do’ he winked, causing you to laugh and follow him upstairs to his bedroom.

As soon as you arrived at the front of Cillian’s large bed, you were quick to take off your t-shirt and climb on the bed, wearing nothing but your cotton panties and warm socks.

Cillian momentarily disappeared, getting some sort of body lotion from beneath the sink.

‘That should work I guess’ he said before he climbed onto the bed with you, his eyes gazing over your mostly naked body for a minute before he squirted some of the cold lotion onto your back.

His hands were magic, working your upper back and then your lower back gently before he leaned down, trailing small kisses at the back of your neck.

Goosebumps were forming all over your skin and you wished that you didn’t have your period as, otherwise, you would have turned around and make him take you on his large and comfortable bed.

Eventually, after Cillian had massaged your back for almost 20 minutes, you turned around to face him, relaxed and even somewhat sleepy.

‘Fuck that felt good’ you giggled just before Cillian took off his t-shirt and tracksuit pants and lied down next to you, quickly throwing the large doona over you both in the hope that you wouldn’t notice his raging erection.

‘Feeling a little better?’ he asked and you nodded before thanking him for taking care of you.

‘You know I could help you with that?’ you smirked as you reached for his crotch, noticing how hard he was.

‘Not tonight’ Cillian said as he pushed your hand away gently, knowing that you were probably still in pain. But, none of this prevented him from pulling you closer towards him for more gentle kisses until, eventually, you curled up against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

‘Cillian?’ you murmured, looking up into his deep blue eyes once again.

‘Hmm’ he responded with a warm smile, his fingers running through your hair gently.

‘What is this between us?’ you wanted to know.

‘I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I try’ he responded, his tone soft and warm.

‘Then stop trying. I mean, why are you trying anyway?’ you chuckled as you continued to look up at him while playing with his chest hair.

‘For so many fucking reasons Y/N’ he responded.

‘Like what?’ you asked.

‘For starters, you are twenty years younger than me’ he explained and you knew that the age gap between you had been an issue for Cillian.

‘So? You know I prefer older men’ you reassured him.

‘I’ve seen the shit you went through with your ex-girlfriend. This is going to be worse and I know much bad press bothers you’ he explained, remembering reading the tabloids when your first long term relationship broke down.

‘I am willing to take my chances. What else?’ you asked.

‘We both just came out of failed relationships. I don’t think it’s smart to start dating again so soon’ Cillian said concerned.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t expect to be your girlfriend or us going public. At the moment, you keep pushing me away every time we get closer and I wonder if we could just give this a chance. Let’s just keep it between us and see where it goes’ you suggested.

‘I would like that’ he then said before giving you another few kisses and turning off the light.

You were still curled up against Cillian and could feel the heat radiate from his body when you drifted off to sleep. Usually, you hated sleeping in other people’s beds but, that night, you felt comfortable and safe.

No one had ever treated you so well and you were happy with where you and Cillian were at and how far you had come after all the ups and downs.

You also remembered your relationship with Kurt. Being with Cillian was all so different to what you knew. It made you realise what you had missed out on.

You slept well through the night with Cillian holding you tight but, the following morning, you were woken up by an uncomfortable feeling beneath you.

You were quite vigilant when it came to your period and when you felt something sticky on your upper thigh, you got disturbed.

Woken by the unfamiliar feeling, your eyes drifted open slowly and you looked up. It was getting light outside which was when it clicked.

You remembered that you should probably have changed your tampon again before going to sleep and your heart began to pound heavily.

Feeling you wiggle around and moving the doona to the side, Cillian was slowly waking up himself, his arm falling over to the side searching for you.

But, you had scooted up and out of the bed which is when you noticed the two small blood stains on your upper thigh.

You quickly ran to the bathroom to wash them off and change what had to be changed but you knew what this meant.

You probably had gotten some stains onto Cillian’s sheet sheets as well and you weren’t ready to face this embarrassment.

‘What’s wrong Y/N?’ Cillian murmured as you returned from the bathroom.

‘I…I think…’ was all you managed to say as you pulled aside the doona and, as you had feared, noticed a small blood stain not only on the sheets but also on Cillian’s upper thigh, which was caught up in between your legs all night when you were sleeping.

You immediately began to shake nervously, feeling embarrassed by what had just happened.

‘Hey Y/N, what’s wrong?’ Cillian asked as he held out one of his hands, indicating for you to come back to bed as he was surprised by your reaction.

‘I am sorry Cillian but I think I stained your sheets and there is some on your thigh…I am so fucking sorry’ you said almost hysterical.

Cillian looked down at his thigh and the sheets for a brief moment, unsure about what the problem was until he noticed the blood stains.

‘So? I will wash the sheets and have a shower, who cares’ Cillian said with a raised eyebrow before pulling you onto him.

‘That’s so embarrassing’ you said but Cillian disagreed.

‘No, it’s natural. Don’t worry about it’ he said before kissing you passionately and you were surprised that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Kurt would have made a massive scene if you had ruined his fine cotton sheets like that.

As you were making out, sharing several kisses while grinding your bodies against each other to get some traction, you suddenly heard a loud female voice coming from the doorway.

‘You are fucking kidding me’ Amanda said loudly and in disbelieved as she saw you on top of Cillian half naked by that point.

‘Holy Fuck’ you shouted before quickly scooting beneath the doona.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily about the fact that she had just entered his house unannounced before getting up and pulling a t-shirt over his head.

‘Getting the last of my stuff. I told you I would come by over the weekend to grab it’ Amanda explained angrily.

‘Yes, and I would have expected you to use the fucking doorbell when you do’ Cillian said firmly before walking downstairs with her.

‘I cannot believe that Kurt was actually right’ Amanda said almost hysterical and you could hear her and Cillian argue from the bedroom.

‘Right about what?’ Cillian asked.

‘That you are fucking her. God that’s so disgusting, you know that? She is almost half your age…trading me in for a younger model, that’s something I never expected’ Amanda said with anger.

‘I didn’t trade you in for anyone Amanda. We broke up because you couldn’t get over your fucking jealousy’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, it was warranted it seems’ Amanda said.

‘I never fucking cheated on you’ Cillian yelled and it was at this point that Amanda began to shout, calling you and Cillian names.

Eventually, Cillian kicked Amanda out of his house and immediately called a locksmith before driving you home.

***First Date***

You didn’t expect to hear from Cillian for the remainder of the day, especially in light of what happened with Amanda and the fact that he told you last night that he wasn’t sure where this was going between you. But, to your surprise, at around 2 o’clock you received a call from him.

During the call, Cillian asked whether you felt like going for dinner with him at restaurant near your house.

Was this a date, you wondered? It sure sounded like a date. If it was a date, did it mean that he no longer cared about the implications he was concerned about previously after your talk last night?

You sure wanted to find out and accepted Cillian’s offer to take you for dinner and he picked you up at 6 o’clock, nice and early so that you had enough time to watch a movie at your place afterwards.

The restaurant was rather busy and Cillian had booked a nice booth in the corner, giving you some privacy.

He ordered a bottle of wine while you looked through the menu for some tapas to share. You enjoyed the same type of food and it was easy for you to agree on the dishes.

‘So, is this a date?’ you asked Cillian after the waitress had taken your order.

‘I suppose’ he chuckled before he took your hands into his, sharing a tender moment with you.

‘Good, because I was worried that our run in with Amanda this morning put you off a little. I’ve heard what she said to you’ you said quietly, knowing about Cillian’s reluctance when it came to dating you, a woman twenty years his junior.

‘If anything, it made me care even less about the reservations I have about us’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, hopefully, those reservations will disappear completely when you realise how awesome I am’ you joked just before the waitress brought out the first dish.

You enjoyed your dinner and wine despite the fact that a group of girls on a table nearby were watching you. You tried hard not to care, but the giggling and whispering bothered you more than it would usually have when you were out with someone else.

Eventually, one of the women from the table came over just as you and Cillian were about to leave, asking Cillian for photo which he declined politely.

The restaurant was only a short stroll from your apartment and you were ready to get your comfortable clothes on and watch a movie with Cillian.

Shortly after you arrived at your apartment, you got changed into a nightie, poured two glasses of wine and asked Cillian whether he could get the lighter from the top draw of your bedside table so that you could light some candles.

As you put the two glasses of wine onto your coffee table, you heard a loud buzzing coming from besides your bed and you recognised the sound immediately.

‘Cillian!’ you shouted as you watched Cillian play with one of your vibrators, a big grin running over his face.

‘Give it here. I said top draw, not bottom draw’ you chuckled as you took the vibrator out of his hand.

‘How does it work? It clearly won’t fit inside you’ he asked curiously, his grin getting bigger.

‘It’s called a wand and it is for clitoral stimulation only. I actually never used it because it’s too intense. My sister talked me into it, saying it’s the best thing ever. But I don’t know’ you explained, your face flushing with embarrassment.

‘Sounds interesting’ Cillian chuckled, which is when you noticed that Cillian had already lid the candles on your beside table.

‘Not really’ you said before you shuffed the vibrator back into the draw and, just as you came up, Cillian crashed his lips onto yours.

‘There are other things I’ve found in your draw’ Cillian said after your lips drifted apart and before he reached for the handcuffs and satin blindfold in your bedside table and threw them onto your bed.

‘Cillian, remember, I’ve got my period’ you giggled just as Cillian pulled your nightie over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

‘I am aware. Just let me make you feel good’ he said, grinning again before pushing you onto the bed and hoovering over you.

‘Cillian, I am serious’ you giggled, his teeth grazing your neck gently.

‘Don’t worry, your panties are staying on and I promise that I won’t touch you down there’ he said reassuringly and, whilst you had no idea how he would get you off without touching your most intimate body part, you agreed and reluctantly lifted your hands over your head and allowed Cillian to tie your wrists against the bedhead with your leather cuffs.

Cillian then gently placed the blindfolds over your eyes, carefully tying the knot behind your head without catching your hair in between it.

You trusted him. Yet it was difficult for you to relax especially since, all of a sudden, you heard a familiar loud bussing sound again.

‘No no no, this vibrator is too intense. I never….oh my fucking god’ you moaned as you threw your head back into the pillow and arched your back as soon as the vibrator hit your clit through your thin cotton panties.

‘Fuck that’s sexy’ Cillian observed as he watched you squirm against your restraints and moan as he moved the vibrator over your clit in circle motions.

‘Don’t move’ he then chuckled as he placed the vibrator onto your clit and resting the handle on your stomach. You felt the weight on your bed lightening and heard him get up, walking away from you momentarily.

‘Fuck Cillian…don’t leave me like this’ you protested just before you heard the door of the fridge opening. What was he doing? Getting himself a beer?

Then, finally, you could feel his weight on the mattress again, right next to you.

His hands began to roam over your breasts and stomach while he pushed the wand back against your clit more firmly after tuning it up a notch.

‘No no no….oh god’ you moaned, your legs squirming.

‘If you do not stay still on your own, I will tie your legs up too’ Cillian said cheekily before pulling on each of your nipple piercings slightly. He knew that you loved it when he did this, subjecting you to this little bit of pain.

You inhaled sharply, wanting him to pull them again, but Cillian had other ideas and it wasn’t long until you felt something extremely cold on your left nipple.

‘Fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as ice cold water began to run down your left breast while he turned up the setting of the vibrator again.

The ice cold feeling soon moved to your right nipple, running down from it over your stomach like a cold stream of water.  By this time it was obvious to you that it was an ice cube which Cillian had placed into his mouth and which he was running over your breasts.

You could feel it melt slowly and the cold water ran all the way to your belly button followed by his hot breath.

Then, you could feel the entire ice cube slid down your stomach and all the way to the hem of your panties while, again, Cillian turned up the vibrator, reaching its highest setting.

‘Holy Christ’ you inhaled, trying as hard as you could to stay still.

You were close to climaxing and Cillian had to hold you down, securing your thighs so that you were unable to squirm away.

‘Oh fuck yes’ you screamed as, finally, your orgasm washed over you and you had no choice but to give into the sensation.

It was at this point that you heard a knock on the wall from the apartment beside yours, causing Cillian to chuckle as you had told him about the letter you received from your neighbour last week complaining about the noise level from your apartment when Cillian visited you the last time.

You eventually came down from your high and Cillian released his tight grip on you and turned off the vibrator before taking off your blindfolds and untying you from the bed.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked and, surprisingly, you did.

With a quick nod and thanks, you pulled Cillian on top of you for a passionate kiss before pushing him down onto the mattress beneath you.

Without words, you looked at him and suggestively bit your lips before reaching for his black Calvin Klein briefs and pulling them down.

‘You know I just love your cock…it’s fucking perfect’ you smirked as you starred at his erection before separating his legs, bending his knees up and taking your place between them.

Cillian scooted himself up in the bed so that he could watch you and you leaned forward to kiss him, loving and deep, before making your decent on his perfectly toned body.

When you finally reached his hard shaft, you kissed the tip of his cock suggestively before collecting his precum with your tongue.

Cillian’s hands knew what to do to help you now and he gathered up your hair and hold it out of the way as you lowered your head and take his cock into your mouth, moaning as your mouth is filled.

Cillian groaned as you finally took all of his length into your mouth and down your throat. You wanted to devour him and you took your time about it, pleasure slowly building, pressure teased and growing as you kept bobbing your head up and down.

Looking up at him while you wrapped your lips around his hard member turned him on incredibly and it didn’t take long for his breathing to become laboured.

By this point, his legs straighten, splayed out on either side of you while the frequency of his moans and groans increased.

You knew Cillian was getting close and you loved watching him moan with a slightly open mouth while you slowly and deliberately wrap your lips tightly on the head of his cock and take him deep into your throat again, all the way to the base.

Your eyes close on their own with the sensation and greed you feel and each time you rise you look into Cillian’s deep blue eyes, stopping to let him watch as you flick your tongue all over his frenulum and swollen pink tip.

His face suddenly changed and his mouth contorts. Cillian’s hands tighten, no longer simply holding your long hair out of the way but gripping your head with handfuls of your hair in both hands right at the scalp. He took control, pushing your head down hard, his cock filling your throat before letting go of you again.

‘Again’ you moaned, loving the way he takes charge and he complied with your request, grabbing your hair again and making you take his length all the way into your throat.

‘Fuck Y/N, I am close’ he moaned and, with him thrusting into your mouth and you bobbing your head at the same time, it wasn’t long until you felt it, the unmistakable spurt of cum into your mouth as his body is finally released.

You could taste him, feeling the slick cream on your tongue, holding it in your mouth as you milk the last drops. Then looking up, you see Cillian’s beautiful sexy smile and flushed cheeks, open your mouth and show him the cum pooled on your tongue.

Another groan escaped him as he watched you hold it, tilting your head back slightly while some drips escaped you and ran over your chin.

Looking at his face, completely turned on by what you were doing, you smiled wickedly and very deliberately closed your lips, looked at him, and swallowed.

‘God, why are you so fucking sexy?’ Cillian asked just as you moved up towards him and pressed your lips onto his.

‘I don’t know, I just am’ you winked before sharing another passionate kiss while his hands were roaming over your back.

After some pillow talk, you eventually curled up against Cillian, running your fingers through his chest hair while his right hand gently touched your cheek.

It didn’t take either of you long to fall asleep and you were still curled up against each other the next morning when you heard a loud knock on the door.

***Meeting June***

‘Will we ever be able to just wake up next to each other without being interrupted?’ Cillian growled as he turned over, ignoring the knock on the door completely. He was clearly not a morning person.

You jumped up quickly and threw on Cillian’s t-shirt which, the night before, had found it’s way to the floor besides your bed.

Wearing nothing but the t-shirt, some purple cotton panties and giant plush socks with small bunny rabbits on it, you walked to the door and opened it, thinking that, surely, it was just a delivery. Your local postman had a habit of arriving early and you were considering getting a postal box soon.

‘Good Morning Sis’ June said and it took you a few seconds to rub your eyes yawn before realising that you probably shouldn’t let her inside with Cillian lying in your bed completely naked.

But your sister didn’t ask for permission and barged inside, putting a bag of croissants and two coffees on to the kitchen counter.

‘What are you doing here?’ you asked surprised as she hung up her coat.

‘I know how shit you feel when you get your period and you didn’t come by the other night so I wanted to check on you, that’s all’ June explained just as she was walking through your loft, not having noticed Cillian yet as part of the view of the bed was covered by a large industrial style bookshelf.

‘Now is not a very good time’ you said nervously which was when she noticed clothes scattered across the floor.

‘Oh shit’ she giggled just before she bluntly looked past the large bookshelf.

‘Morning June’ Cillian chuckled just as he reached down to the floor to retrieve his briefs before pulling them beneath the doona and trying to discretely put them back on.

‘Holy fuck’ June shouted, her jaw dropping to the floor.

‘Jupp, swearing runs in the family’ Cillian chuckled before getting up from beneath the doona, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs.

With a grin on his face, he walked over towards you and gave you a quick kiss before taking your coffee from your hand, taking a sip and telling you that he will go and have a quick shower.

He quickly retrieved his jeans from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom all while your sister’s eyes followed his every move.

‘Stop looking at him’ you demanded, giving your sister a nudge as it was obvious to you that she was checking out Cillian’s ass.

‘How the fuck did this happen? Did I just dream this?’ she asked as you were shyly drinking your coffee with some embarrassment, unsure how to answer her question.

‘Oh my god, he is the guy you were telling me about. This all makes sense now’ June said and you confirmed her suspicions and told her that you’ve resolved your differences.

You trusted your sister and told her about what you had discussed with Cillian the night before and that you were at his house, which is why you cancelled on her.

Eventually, Cillian came out of the bathroom, wearing his tight black jeans but not much else.

Your sister looked at him with some excitement, not even ashamed for drooling over the man you were involved with.

You noticed immediately, giving her another nudge just as Cillian stole the rest of your coffee.

‘Can you put your shirt on please’ you eventually said before handing Cillian one of the croissants and the jam from your fridge.

‘Well, I would, but you are wearing it’ Cillian reminded you, unbothered by the fact that your sister was in the same room.

You quickly disappeared behind the bookshelf and changed into your own clothes before handing Cillian his t-shirt and your sister sighed with some disappointment as he put it on.

Despite the fact that he had met your sister already, he felt somewhat awkward with your sister around and, after putting on his t-shirt, he left your apartment in order to get some more coffees, allowing you to update your sister on the situation.

While he was out, waiting for his coffee order at the nearby coffee shop, he received a call from his agent drawing his attention to a quite unfavourable article which had just appeared online, less than 30 minutes ago.

**************

OK! Magazine News 

Cillian Murphy following the Hollywood Trend?

Rumours have emerged suggesting a developing relationship between actor Cillian Murphy (43) and singer/songwriter Y/N L/N (23). This comes after Murphy has only last month been spotted at a Dublin fundraising event with long term girlfriend Amanda Winter and L/N was rumoured to be involved with local artist Kirsten Mann after having been spotted leaving Soho Bar together as little as three nights ago.

Music producer Kurt Meskin confirmed the break up from singer and songwriter girlfriend Y/N L/N earlier yesterday and revealed that the break up was due to a romance unfolding between Y/N L/N and actor Cillian Murphy. It is unclear how Kirsten Mann is involved and Meskin wasn’t able to comment on Mann’s relationship with L/N’s.

Murphy and L/N have been working together with others, including Meskin, on the United Arts and Music Festival since earlier this year. The festival is set to take place later this year and will feature L/N as well as Murphy’s long term girlfriend Amanda Winter.

Meskin said that he was saddened by L/N’s actions but has accepted her decision.

‘There is not much I can do. Unfortunately, these things happen but it’s simply sad to know that not only one, but two relationships have been destroyed by her actions’ Meskin said when referring to what sounds like an affair between L/N and Murphy.

It is not clear whether Murphy and Winter have since separated but it appears to be likely as L/N and Murphy were spotted in front of Le Maison Restaurant in Dublin late yesterday evening.

The picture appeared on Twitter shortly after the date night between Murphy and L/N and has since received a large number of comments as fans question what happened with Amanda Winter and criticise the twenty year ago gap between Murphy and L/N.

“Perhaps he’s following into the footsteps of other Hollywood actors like DiCaprio who like their girlfriends much younger” one person commented on Twitter.

Neither L/N or Murphy have commented on the rumours but, with L/N’s social media presence, it is probably just a matter of time until a statement is received.

  Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

[dangerous-mess]

Holiday Troubles

Characters: Aizawa, trans male reader

Contains: Unsupportive family, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, mentions of a deadname (D/N), mentions of religion and praying, mentions of dysphoria, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with fluff ending. This was written mainly as a comfort fic during the winter holidays but wanted to post this here (originally posted on AO3). Please read with caution as this content may be triggering for some

Word Count: 2K+ 

The holidays were always rough for you, being not only gay but transgender as well. There were the off-putting tension and feelings every time you walked in the room, and the side glances and judgemental glares that were shot your way if you were even caught wearing something feminine and not masculine. Mostly from your parents and family, feeling the obligation that you had to follow gender norms in the hope to not only pass but to be taken seriously in your own identity.

The holidays got a little easier once you married your now husband. He made visiting your family a bit easier and made the holidays in general, more enjoyable for you. This year, unfortunately, he had meetings and a nightly patrol that he couldn’t get out of, so you were left to go to the Christmas family gathering by yourself.

The day came, and needless to say, you were a nervous mess. You dressed up in a suit, something masculine of course to appease your family and keep those comments at bay. Though, you knew you weren’t in the clear as there was still a high chance of being deadnamed and misgendered by family who were unsupportive or others who just didn’t try. Your husband, Shouta, let you know before he left early that morning that if you needed anything at all to give him or Hizashi a call and they would come and get you in a heartbeat. He said Hizashi, just in case he couldn’t be reached, which was fine with you, Hizashi had become a close friend to you.

You arrived at your parent's house a little later than they asked, just cause you were nervous and needed more time to prepare for this evening. You knocked on the front door, adjusting your suit as you waited for someone to open the door, only to be greeted by one of your younger siblings. They gave you a big hug, before dragging you inside where you were greeted by family. Your grandmother was the first to deadname you. She called out as you talked to your uncle, a devious smile on her face as the name rolled off her tongue. You cringed hearing it and so badly wanted to correct her, but if your mother caught wind that you did, who knows what drama may pursue. You endured the conversation with her, as she made sure to drop in your deadname every chance she could get.

“Honestly D/N, you really should stop playing dress up and realize that you are a girl. Your husband would be so much happier to have a wife who knows her place and not some confused girl.”

You took a deep breath and bid your goodbyes to your grandmother as you went to find someone else to talk to. Eventually, dinner was called, and you all gathered around and your grandfather said a prayer. You looked down at your feet the entire time, not really wanting to participate in the prayer. Soon it wrapped up and a line formed into the kitchen to get food. After everyone got food, everyone gathered around and talked, telling stories of things that happened within the past year in their lives, as well as asking questions to others to get the latest scoop. You just decided to eat silently, trying to not participate in the gossip fest happening before you.

“So Y/N, how are you and your husband doing?” Your dad asked before he took a sip of a beer. You held up your pointer finger, signaling that you needed a moment as your finished chewing food before you smiled and spoke.

“Oh, we are doing well! He sends his deepest apologies that he couldn’t make it, hero duties called.” You smiled, taking a quick glance around the room. Some whispers were exchanged, knowing it was about you and Shouta. It was clear that besides your family not supporting your identity, they also did not support your marriage to a hero. Especially a hero who was supportive of you and your identity.

“Honestly, how she manages to keep such a hero man, is insane. Like who would wanna marry some confused lesbian?” One of your aunts spoke out. You gripped your glass tightly, biting your tongue, not wanting to start any issues.

Other family members chimed in to add on to your aunt's comment and soon it became too much. You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom farthest away from your family. You pulled out your phone and texted your husband. You told him that you needed him or Hizashi or someone to come to pick you up, as you originally walked, as it was nice earlier prior to the sun setting. You quickly got a reply, saying your husband was on his way, and that he was getting someone to cover the rest of his patrol. You felt a bit bad to interrupt and have him leave his patrol, but god you just needed him right now more than anything.

You hid amongst the rooms as you waited for Shouta to send you a message or signal that he was here. Your mom called out your name, walking down the hall looking for you. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you and grabbed your arm.

“Come on Y/N, we are about to exchange gifts. Stop trying to hide and be nice and spend time with your family. It took a lot of work and effort to get everyone here, like your grandparents who haven’t seen you in ages.” Your mom aggressively whispered at you, as she pulled you towards the living room. You stayed silently, hoping that your husband would be here soon.

Your mom let you go and pointed to a chair near the tree. You sat down and were handed some gifts. You slowly opened them, trying not to draw attention to yourself. The first gift was in a gift bag, and opening it exposed a colorful piece of clothing. You pulled it out and it was a sundress. Although you didn’t mind breaking gender norms, dresses were never your thing, they held too many bad memories and made you dysphoric. You frowned, not having the energy to fake a smile. You felt your mind start to spiral before a voice pulled you out.

“Oh, D/N do you not like it. I made sure to even get the right size and everything. I thought you could put that on and surprise your husband when you go home. Imagine how he would react to see his wife, finally coming to terms with herself.” Your grandmother called out, staring at you the entire time. You went to open your mouth when another voice spoke up.

“Actually, I think my husband looks handsome and perfect just the way he is in the suit he is wearing, but thank you. Maybe we can save the dress and give it to one of my students, I know one of them would get much better use of it.” Shouta’s voice boomed out, making a hush fall across the room. You never heard the front door open, but then again Shouta was very good at staying silent. You looked at your husband, feeling all your emotions and feelings starting to rise to the surface. You caught a dirty look your mother gave you as you stood up and made your way over to Shouta.

He held out his hand as you got closer and held it tightly, quickly bidding goodbye for you both as he quickly led you outside to the car that was waiting outside and still running. “I had Hizashi drive me over, hope that’s okay.” You just nodded at him, not letting go of his hand until you got into the car. As soon as you and Shouta were in the car, Hizashi sped off.

“Heya listener, how did it go?” Hizashi asked out, peeking into the mirror looking back at you.

“I lasted longer than last year, so that’s a new record at least.” You joked, trying not to cry. At least not now, you had to make it until you were home and in bed, with your husband holding you close.

Hizashi talked most of the ride home, while Shouta kept glancing back at you. You tried to listen to what was being said, but you couldn’t focus, so you just looked out the window, slightly dozing off. You woke up to the feeling of being carried, your eyes adjusted as you saw Shouta was carrying you into the house and to the bedroom. On any other occasion, if he was carrying you like this you were bound to tease or crack a joke or something, but in this moment you just stayed in his arms, gripping onto him tightly. Once you both got to the bedroom, he helped you undress and slip on something comfy. After he finished helping you, he quickly changed and climbed into bed, pulling you close to him and holding you tightly.

For a while, you just laid there in his arms, fighting back the urge to scream and cry. Though, after he comforted you and let you know it was okay to be upset and that you could let it all out. In which you did, you sobbed in his chest for what felt like hours. You screamed and sobbed and let out all the feelings you bottled up for the few hours you were at the family gathering. Eventually, you ran out of tears to cry and were only left with your own thoughts. You were overthinking, mostly dwelling on the words your family spoke out to you this evening, and couldn’t help but question if it was true.

“Sho...I’ve got to ask you something, kind of important.” You gently pushed away and sat up in the bed, looking at him. He stared at you, and nodded, letting you know it was okay to continue on. You took a deep breath and went for it, “Am I enough for you? I brought a lot of baggage and trouble into our relationship and I know it can’t be easy for you dating me, specifically with the backlash and comments that get made by my family and others about me transitioning and just. If you were with anyone else, I feel like you won’t get all this drama and I’m sorry I’ve brought so much of it onto you Shouta.”

You watched as his facial expression changed and you quickly looked away, finding interest in anything that wasn’t his face, afraid of what his reaction not only meant but the words that were about to follow. “Y/N, please look at me.” You slowly looked up and he placed a hand on your cheek. “I love you Y/N. I love you for you, you are my husband and I won’t want anyone else besides me. You are more than enough for me. And we both have a lot of baggage but that doesn’t change my feelings for you, we can work through it all together. I meant what I said in my vows and at our wedding and I still stand by it. Forever and always.”

You fiddled with your fingers before speaking up, “I love you Shouta so much, I’m just afraid one day I won’t be enough, cause as silly as it is, I don’t feel masculine or manly enough, that you’ll find more of a ‘real’ man one day and just leave me behind.” Tears filled your eyes and you looked down, just wanting to hide under the blankets.

“Y/N Aizawa, you are absolutely masculine and manly enough. I will never find anyone else or more a man than you. You are all I want, and all I need. I love you so much, don’t ever doubt my love for you, cause it is never-ending sweetheart.” Shouta spoke out, lifting your head up and placing a small kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his arms, holding you close. You just stayed there close, as Shouta whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

Shouta always made the holidays more bearable, but he also made life in general easier. He made waking up a little easier and helped with your hectic thoughts to calm you down. He truly was the love of your life and the best you could ever ask for. You couldn’t have gotten any luckier to have a husband as sweet and perfect as you. He may not be the number one hero to the rest of the world, but in your eyes and his heart, he was, he was your number one hero.

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

*****************

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

******************

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

[mychemicalrachel]

So I finished season 2 of Love Victor a few days ago but I needed time to process because that was a lot and part of processing is reviewing/reflecting, which I’m gonna post here. Everything under the cut because I ramble.

(also, it’s anti Victor/Rahim. Venji is endgame and you can pry that from my cold dead hands. Skip this if that’s not for you. I’m not posting this to start drama. Just my opinions.)

To start off, I liked this season. I’m gonna trash it a little, but it’s done with love. There were a lot of things I wanted to see after season 1 and, surprisingly, I got a lot of those things! Such as…

I wanted more Felix and Pilar. Which we got. I did not want it like this. I’m not opposed to them together, I like them, but I wanted Felix and Lake to stay together. HOWEVER, I’m kinda glad they broke up because y’all it’s paving the way for bi Lake (another thing I really wanted) and I cannot wait to see her and Lucy together.

Kind of following along with that, I really wanted them to give Pilar more friends this season. And they did that with Rahim. And then they took Rahim away and gave him to Victor instead. Guys, this is killing me. I want to see Pilar with actual friends, give her more of a social life I am begging you.

JACK. I knew, I just KNEW, that we were going to get a Spier cameo this season and I honestly kind of expected it to be Emily, maybe Nora, but I am so happy it was Jack. He’s grown so much since Love Simon.

I wanted to see Mia portrayed as her own person and not a villain. She was justified in her anger and betrayal because Victor hurt her. They handled it really well I think. She’s such a good friend. I’m also glad we got more of her and Veronica bonding. I can’t wait to see Mia with the baby, that’s gonna be so cute.

I wanted more Andrew and this season did not disappoint. He was like the cool uncle that everyone went to for advice. 

Now, with all of that said, I did get a lot of things I wanted from this season. I also got things I did not want. I was actually really excited when they introduced Rahim and kind of went full circle by having him go to Victor for advice. I was like, hell yeah! Gays who can be friends without being all over each other! And then they started this love triangle thing and I kind of hated it. I liked Victor and Rahim as friends, I want more of that because I think Victor (and Rahim, too, to be honest) could use more queer friends. Just friends. They built up this entire relationship between Benji and Victor in season 1 and spent a lot of this season confirming that yeah Benji and Victor are in love even though they have some tough times, and now I’m just supposed to accept that Victor has started having feelings for someone else? No thank you, please stop.

And that leads me to things I want to see in season 3!

Victor chose Benji obviously. You cannot convince me otherwise. Someone he started having feelings for when he was going through a mentally distressing time in his life fails in comparison to the guy he spent an entire season falling in love with.

Now I’m not discounting Victor’s feelings. I’m sure he felt something for Rahim, but we need to acknowledge that Victor was in the middle of a stressful time. He had only recently come out, he was dealing with his mom not accepting him or his boyfriend, he quit the basketball team, he was struggling with his place in his and Benji’s relationship and then Benji wanted to “take a break”. He can’t be blamed for latching onto someone who wholly accepted him and made him feel normal.

Also, it’s fairly common to play into the trope of “this character is new to being gay, he can’t just be with one person so we have to add another love interest and make sure what he’s feeling for person A is real.”

That said! Benji will probably feel insecure now! And that’s okay! Let’s explore that! Let’s allow Benji to be the one who's insecure in this relationship for once instead of always having Victor be the one to doubt everything! They don’t have to break up to take a step back and slow things down!

As such, I really want to go back to the Victor/Benji roots. Make them friends again. I want stupid cute moments like them dancing to Call Me Maybe and trying on thrift store clothes. We spent so much of this season making Victor and Benji boyfriends that we kind of skipped over the whole friends aspect. There’s a reason they fell in love in the first place and we need to revisit that. A relationship is not just sex and miscommunication. It’s laughing together, it’s enjoying each other's company, and I didn’t see nearly enough of that between Victor and Benji this season.

They were not at all subtle with the parallels between Felix and Victor this season; Felix having to choose between Lake and Pilar while Victor has to choose between Rahim and Benji. I mean, I don’t think it was supposed to be subtle. It couldn’t have been more obvious. And at first I was worried that Felix chose Pilar because of the parallels and that must mean Victor was going to choose Rahim. But the longer I look at it, the more differences I notice in their parallels and I don’t have the eloquence to unpack it all right now, but it all just made me more assured that Victor is going to choose Benji.

Moving away from Victor/Benji, there’s something that keeps bothering me; it’s when Felix and Lake had sex at the lake. Cute romantic moment, yeah sure, I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it, except it made a deal out of Felix buying condoms beforehand. He was prepared. That’s good. Only, when they went out to jump into the lake, they only had towels. Which means that there is a very good chance they didn’t use protection. That, coupled with Georgina’s comment about watching Teen Mom...I foresee a pregnancy scare in the coming season. Whether it’s an actual pregnancy and we get a whole pregnancy storyline (possibly an abortion, maybe a miscarriage. I don’t really see it going full term for whatever reason) or if it’s just an episode where Lake thinks she might be pregnant.

I’m pretty excited to see how they handle this newfound romance between Lucy and Lake. Does Lake already know she’s bi? Does Lucy? Lake made a comment at the beginning of this season about making sure everyone knew Mia didn’t turn Victor gay, which makes me wonder how Lake will react to discovering she also likes girls. No, I’m not saying she’ll think Felix turned her into a lesbian. But I think she’ll doubt her feelings for Lucy. She’ll think (however briefly) that maybe she was just hurt and maybe she doesn’t actually like Lucy, she’s just coping with having her heart broken by a boy.

But I want all of her doubt to end when she accepts that she’s totally bisexual.

Now that we got our bi character, I’m gonna start demanding an ace character, too.

I want Mia’s mom to be awesome. Her dad kind of sucks and she deserves at least one good parent.

HOWEVER, if her mom also sucks, I think it could bring her and Veronica closer.

Speaking of parents, I want to explore Lake’s relationship with her mom more. She always tells Felix about how she was pressured to be skinny, and that right there is a terrible basis for a mother/daughter relationship. But she also felt comfortable enough to tell her about Felix’s mom and ask for help. So yeah, I definitely want more of them. I need Lake to stand up to her mom, though. I need her to be like, “you made me insecure in my body and I have self esteem issues because you made me think I wasn’t good enough” and I want to expand on that. Maybe Georgina had a good reason (in her mind, anyway) to treat Lake like that, and while it may have been a horrible thing to do, I don’t think she saw it that way. I’m not saying she should win a mother of the year award, but what she did to Lake needs to be acknowledged and talked about.

And then there’s Felix’s mom. I want to see her recovery. It’s a process and I don’t want her to magically be okay now. I also want her to meet Pilar (and Victor. Has Victor ever met her?) but also she really liked Lake and I want them to keep in touch, even though Lake and Felix aren’t together anymore. I still want them to be friends. 

AND I HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED TALKING ABOUT ISABEL AND ARMANDO. I’m glad they found their way back to each other, but again; it’s a process. I think they should stay apart for a little bit and not just jump back in where they left off. They still have problems to sort through, but this is a start. They’ve realized they want to be together.

[adhd-disaster-willie]

you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6

chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

warnings: swearing

word count: 2,757

notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))

---

It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time. 

“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn. 

Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.

“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”

Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”

“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”

“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.

Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”

“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”

“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”

“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles. 

“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”

“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile. 

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie. 

“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”

“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”

Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions. 

“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”

“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails. 

“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights. 

“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.

“Well?” 

Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”

Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”

Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”

“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”

Alex doesn’t say anything. 

“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke. 

Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him. 

“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”

“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”

“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”

“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs. 

“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”

“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”

“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk. 

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

---

Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.

It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad. 

Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that. 

Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining. 

Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her. 

Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.

“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle. 

Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”

“So why the… candles?”

“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”

“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”

“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”

“That’s…”

“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing. 

“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?”

“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”

“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing. 

Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows. 

“Lets go for a drive.”

Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.

“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.

The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving. 

Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.

Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie. 

Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off. 

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.

Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yea.”

Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”

“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”

“Hot dog.”

And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?” 

Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off. 

“I can what?”

“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”

So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”

Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance  to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second. 

The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge. 

Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!

“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex? 

Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.

---

notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow. 

chapter 6

taglist:  @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire

[klm-zoflorr]

Issues with the Tyzula ship that Tyzula shippers/fics typically avoid

Stereotypical Tyzula Ty Lee: “Azula-san, I completely forgive you for everything you ever did to me or my best friend and have always loved you unconditionally. I will help you become better if it means risking the quality of my life, my other relationships, my sanity, and even my life. I will magically be able to help you deal with your myriad of mental issues as if you always only needed love/affection instead of real medical help. I will always love you even if you don’t really change your behavior or worse, remain the same power hungry bitch you grew up to be. I love you ‘Zula.”

Look, I am not opposed to Tyzula for I actually think that they had a real friendship, even if there was a massive power imbalance, that got fucked up by Ozai’s abusive teachings and Azula trying to act as her sovereign and friend at the same time. But there is a tendency among Tyzula shippers/fics to make Ty Lee forgive Azula way too easily, make Azula not deal with her flaws or make (proper) amends to Ty Lee and Mai, retcon Azula into a soft baby who didn’t do anything wrong other than get abused, and/or gloss over the issues between the two.

For example, If Tyzula occurred pre-Boiling Rock like some fics imply, do you think it would have been consensual? Especially considering that there has been a massive power imbalance (Azula is Ty Lee’s Sovereign) since their childhood that Azula took advantage of even then; Azula forced Ty Lee to join her squad at firepoint; and Ty Lee is deathly scared of Azula? And if it happened post-Boiling Rock there is a massive power imbalance in favor of Ty Lee since the moment Azula “acts up” (it doesn’t have to be a big thing since Ty Lee is scarred shitless of Azula) Ty Lee can either call Zuko to jail her and/or have Aang de-bend her. There are some Tyzula fics that properly deal with, imo, the pre- and post-Boiling Rock power imbalances but most of them just gloss over them.  Not helping is the fact that comics imply that the two never had a real relationship at all and that Ty Lee is still deathly afraid of Azula, willing to chi-block Azula the moment she is anything other than docile. 

Also, how come most Tyzula shippers/fics don’t touch about LOK’s Turf Wars said about Sozin outlawing homosexuality and the implications it has for a lesbian/bisexual Azula? If Azula, who tries to be the model princess in a post-Sozin Fire Nation, can’t even realize that using fear is not a good way to maintain relationships, how would she deal with the fact that she has feelings for girls? Most of the Tyzula fics or headcanons I have read don’t seriously deal with the fact that either Azula is deep in the closet and/or suffering from serious internalized homophobia and would not likely express her sexual preferences in public unless she was in an extraordinary situation or got serious therapy plus years of self-reflection/character growth. Not to mention the fact she would be one of the leading perpetrators of homophobia by virtue of being Ozai’s right hand general/advisor.

So, do I have a valid point about how Tyzula shippers and fics often engage in abuse and/or toxic friendship/relationship apologism? Or I am just being too harsh on a group of shippers that have been vocally condemned by the greater ATLA community and most likely will never see their ship be canonized? And yes, some of my own fanfic works do contain Tyzula so feel free to call me out if I am being a hypocrite and holding people to standards that I can’t uphold.

-----------

This was a very interesting submission, Anon, and I don't think you're "in the wrong" here, even if I don't necessarily agree with you. At least you're polite, so I won't swear at you xD I'll sum up your points for clarity's sake

"Tyzula shippers make Ty Lee dumber and ready to do anything for Azula. They write stories without depth and without adressing the imbalances in their relationship"

Here's my personnal opinion on that: this kind of drama/angst is hard to write, and I don't want to waste my time for 10 chapters while they're angstying over whether or not to love each other. Mental health issues are hard to write too, and I want azula to be happy, so I can just make them dissapear. I completely acknowledge it isn't the most realistic kind of writing, but I don't care, I just want to have fun. I wouldn't pretend it's canon either.

Now, some Azula fans are just biased towards her, and like to pretend her canon character did nothing wrong and is purely a victim and is owed Ty Lee's love. I'm not gonna shit on them, in the grand scheme of things it's quite inconsequencial, but I don't think that's accurate.

"Tyzula shippers make it happen even if Azula is still a "villain" and hasn't redeemed herself for her sins"

I can link this to my first point a little, and erase all moral complexity for the funzies while acknowledging it isn't canon. But there's also the fact in ATLA, Ty Lee has little to no redemption arc herself. She just betrays azula, and then the good guys accept her and mai with no problem? We could interpret that as "she was always supporting Aang's cause and hated azula secretly since forever" but I don't think that's very correct, because Ty Lee never shows any sign of it, never talks treason, never helps the good guys while azula isn't looking (unlike mai!). The only thing that could possibly make her betray Azula, in my point of view, is seeing her other best friend almost die to her hands. And even then, it isn't a moral choice. I firmly believe Ty Lee was just as indoctrinated in the Fire Nation's ways as everyone else there. And that she actually supported her nation and obeyed Azula as her commander not only because they were friends, not only because she had to, but because she was loyal to her nation. And the only reason I can see her go to the good guys' side at the end of atla was simply because of self preservation with a side of unbrainwashing from FN propaganda

So, in conclusion, I don't think Ty Lee is a completely good character, and I don't think she has a problem with Azula's crimes.

"There is a power imbalance"

I'm not going to deny that. But who told you all relationships with a power imbalance are inherently bad? They're more likely to be toxic, but they won't always be. If the person with the upper hand is respectuous and nice, everything works out perfectly. It's more of an advice towards people who don't have the upper hand in their unbalanced relationship, and who could get taken advantage of. But Ty Lee is smarter than she looks, and I believe she would know to stay away from that.

Pre-boilling rock, there is indeed problems with them getting together, but they're not due to one of them being toxic. Azula is Ty Lee's princess, and it isn't her fault. She was literally raised to lead. And Ty Lee was raised to follow. We see that despite that, Azula still considers Ty Lee as her friend and gets her in her team in a nice way. But it isn't her fault she was raised in the middle of a war and sees the will of the fire nation as more important than anything.

Additionally, I don't think Ty Lee hated Azula, for the reasons I mentionned before.

Post-boilling rock, I just don't think Ty Lee would be scared, or cruel enough, to jail or unbend Azula for no reason. Because, again, I don't think she hates her.

"The fire nation is homophobic"

As is usual with me, I loathe the comics and don't consider this as canon. It doesn't even make sense, apart from saying "fire nation's evil, they're homophobic now too" to be honest, if anyone's gonna be homophobic it's gonna be everyone, cause there was no gay representation in atla.

Oh, and f*ck this, I hate homophobia, I don't want my fictionnal worlds to have it too. It's dumb as shit and everyone is gay in the Fire Nation. There.

"So, do I have a valid point about how Tyzula shippers and fics often engage in abuse and/or toxic friendship/relationship apologism? Or I am just being too harsh on a group of shippers that have been vocally condemned by the greater ATLA community and most likely will never see their ship be canonized?"

You do have a valid point that some tyzula shippers have the same problem as some azula stans, as in that they put her on a pedestral and say she did nothing wrong. But some also just don't want to bother with that and just want to write fluff, and that's fine. There are way worse things they could be doing.

It is true that Tyzula is kind of a controversial ship, and for this reason I don't think you should care too much about it. Bullying people never help anyone, and criticising tyzula shippers will only push them back in their fandom spaces and make them unable to tell apart genuine, objective criticism and mean bullying.

I don't want Tyzula to be canon, btw. Well. For me canon kinda stopped at the end of atla, so everything is possible after this point lol. Not that I even care much about canon.

You are not an hypocrite for liking tyzula and criticizing it. You can call out the behavior of people in your own community, it's perfectly fine and should be encouraged. I'd pay more attention to your opinion too, because I know you don't just dislike the ship and want to find any reason for it to be "problematic"

I'm gonna put that submission in the Tyzula tag, if anyone in there feels offended by that do let me know. I don't intend to shit on this ship at all. Also, if anyone wants to add points or give me perspectives I didn't think about go ahead!

[sunshine-stars]

Deja vu

Flynn remembers some of her happy memories with Carrie. Then they see her Instagram posts with Kayla doing the same things.

Inspired by Deja vu by Olivia Rodrigo

Word count: 2707

Car rides to Malibu

“We’re going to Malibu? That’s awesome!” Julie exclaimes.

Carrie laughs a little. “Yeah, my Dad has to meet with some business people there and didn’t want to leave me alone so he invited you guys too.”

Flynn’s over the moon. They’ve been to Malibu a few times, most of them with Carrie and Julie, and it’s always so much fun. It’s about an hour one way and it means that they have a little road trip, which is always more than a little chaotic.

“You know I’m in,” Flynn answers, smiling. Julie agrees and they make plans to go the next day, after asking both of their parents.

“You’re stealing all of the sour keys! How dare you?” Flynn yells at Carrie. She knows that they’re her favourites and she’s eating them all, the traitor.

Carrie huffs. “Only because you’ve already eaten half of them and I want some too!” Her lips are slightly stained green and Flynn can’t help but look at them. They’re probably so soft.

“You’re just lucky that the green one’s aren’t as good as the orange one’s, or else I’d have to kill you,” Flynn replies after a beat too long.

Julie takes a sour key and between bites says, “You’re both wrong, the purple one’s are the best.”

“Of course you think so little miss purple,” Carrie teases.

Julie gasps. “Hey! Flynn’s the shortest, not me!”

“How did we get back to this?!” Flynn groans. “Weren’t we just talking about how Carrie’s a thief?”

“I am not! You’re the hoarder, you made me take them. Besides you being the shortest is so cute and fun.” Carrie raises an eyebrow with an evil little smile.

She’s obviously trying to get on Flynn’s nerves, and she’s succeeding, but why does Flynn’s heart speed up when she calls them cute? Why does her mind go blank for a second as they feel very happy?

She shakes her head a little to steady themself. “You do realize that you’re stuck in a metal box with me, right? Where I could kill you and no one would know. So I suggest you shut your mouth before I make you.”

Carrie coughs a little as her face goes slightly pink. Julie’s just looking knowingly at both of them. What just happened?

Carrie’s Dad turns around in his seat to look exasperatedly at them, though there’s a little smile on his face. “Settle down kiddos. Flynn please don’t kill my daughter, I love her. Carrie please don’t try to aggravate Flynn. Also why can’t you all just share the sour keys? You all like different flavours.”

“Because once Flynn finishes all of the orange one’s she eats all of mine and Carrie’s,” Julie responds like something weird didn’t just happen.

“It’s not my fault that there’s always less orange one’s! It’s not fair! Why aren’t you also telling off Julie she participated in this?” Flynn frustratedly and loudly says.

Carrie’s Dad sighs. “Julie wasn’t yelling and trying to annoy you two. Why do you and Care bear always get into silly arguments?”

Julie mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “It’s because these two idiots are in love with each other and won’t admit it.”

Flynn glares at her, but she just flashes her perfect little angel smile. Julie’s so sweet that no one expects her to be a little devil, it’s stupid.

Flynn suddenly realizes that Carrie has been very quiet. They turn to look at her and she gasps. There’s only one sour key left… and it’s an orange one.

“Bubblegum, Pinky Pie, Sappho, lollipop, sweetheart, love of my life can I please please have the last sour key?” Flynn quickly rambles.

They just have to get the last one and she’s not above begging for it. So what if her begging includes calling people sweet pet names to bribe them, and so what if they do it more with Carrie? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a coincidence, right?

Carrie looks down and avoids their eyes, her cheeks turning even redder than before. Is she okay? Why has she been acting strange? Flynn has no idea, but they hope for the best.

“Well since you asked so nicely, soda pop.” Carrie hands her the sour key. If Flynn didn’t know any better they’d say she was flustered, but that can’t be right.

Flynn flashes Carrie a wide smile as they start to eat the delicious treat.

Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two

“You said you didn’t want any ice cream.” Carrie crosses her arms and glares at Flynn.

“That was before I saw how good it looks, and I love strawberry. It’s like the best flavour and it reminds me of you.”

Julie sighs and looks at them disapprovingly, but also slightly amused. “Flynn honey, you said you didn’t want any because your stomach hurt from all those sour keys. Ice cream will only make it a lot worse.”

“I’m feeling better now,” Flynn argues. “Besides now that I want it it’s all that I’ll be thinking about. Do you really want me to be constantly thinking about and bugging you for ice cream? I have seven sodas all the time. It's fine.”

Flynn may have a massive sweet tooth, but how can she not when it tastes so good.

“That’s not healthy and I still don’t like it,” Julie scolds.

Flynn just shrugs in response. “Okay, mom.”

Julie throws her hands up in the air and Flynn turns back to Carrie with pleading eyes.

Carrie just sighs and passes it over. “You’re lucky I like you, babe.”

“I know, sweetie.” Flynn thanks the universe for it everyday. They have no idea where they’d be without Carrie, and frankly, they don’t want to know.

Flynn ignores the fluttering in her chest as they take a bite of the strawberry ice cream and almost moans. The cold sweet fruity taste is so refreshing on this warm day.

It’s a shame she has to share it with Carrie, they want it all to themselves. The thing is that Flynn would do anything for Carrie. Sharing ice cream with her is the least they can do for this truly amazing girl who somehow loves her.

And trading jackets

Carrie wraps her arms around herself. “This ice cream is making me cold.”

Well that’s not allowed. Carrie is this warm ray of sunshine in Flynn’s life and she’s just not allowed to be cold. Not when Flynn’s wearing a perfectly good jacket.

“Here take mine.” Flynn passes it to her with a smile.

It’s their jean jacket that has a bunch of patches and embroidery that Flynn either bought or made. There are lesbian and nonbinary flags that they all put on together after she came out, along with a hundred other things that all have a special meaning. It’s precious to her. If it were anyone else they’d be hesitant about letting someone wear it, but it’s Carrie, it’s a no brainer.

Carrie looks up at them, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Are you sure?” She has a hesitant and caring look on her face. She knows just how much Flynn loves the jacket.

“Of course, Sappho.”

Carrie smiles softly as she puts the jacket on. Flynn has to catch her breath. She’s wearing their jacket and she almost explodes.

For a second Flynn wishes that they were dating. That she was giving their girlfriend her favourite jacket. That she could wrap her arms around Carrie, kiss her perfect lips, and ramble about how gorgeous she looks and how her wearing their jacket makes her feel so happy. It’d be something out of one of those cheesy rom coms that they watch to make fun of, but secretly like.

Flynn’s daydream is interrupted by Julie’s laugh.

Laughin’ ‘bout how small it looks on you

“It’s so small on you,” Julie says between giggles.

Flynn looks at it again and sure enough it’s too small for Carrie. They’ve had it a couple years so it’s a little small on Flynn, but it’s too sentimental to throw out and it still fits. On Carrie the sleeves come up a bit too much above her wrists and she can’t really button it up.

It should be something for Flynn to laugh at like Julie, but it almost adds to the charm of Carrie wearing their jacket. The imperfections make it real. Besides, perfection never lasts. Robert Frost said “Nothing gold can stay,” but this isn’t gold. It’s as precious as it, but maybe, just maybe, this can last. This moment, their friendship, hopefully it can stay.

Watching reruns of Glee

“Seriously? Why is Rachel always in the spotlight? The rest of them have good voices too,” Flynn complains. Their legs are thrown over Carrie’s lap as they watch a random episode of Glee

Carrie scoffs. “I have no idea. I’m passionate about being a singer, but I’m not that self absorbed. You don’t always need to be the lead.” She leans back on the couch more. “Besides, I can sing better than her.”

Bein’ annoying

“Not self absorbed, huh?” Flynn teases.

They know that Carrie has an absolutely angelic voice that they’re constantly in awe of. She can definitely sing better than Rachel and she’d fight anyone who disagrees. It’s just that teasing Carrie is so much fun. Basically half of their relationship is bickering with each other. Julie says they act like a married couple, but she always sees stuff that isn’t there.

“Shut up.” Carrie moves Flynn’s leg off of her.

Flynn gasps and looks at Carrie with a horrified expression. “How dare you?! Do you not love me anymore?! Betrayal of the highest order! Dishonour! Dishonour on your whole family! Dishonour on you! Dishonour on your cow! I can’t even look at you right now. My heart… it hurts.” They dramatically turn away from her and sigh, acting hurt.

Flynn doesn’t even have to look at Carrie to know that she’s looking at them with an exasperated expression on her pretty face. After a minute she feels a body lay on top of them.

“Can you please stop being such a drama queen? Of course I love you, you idiot,” Carrie says quietly into their ear.

At that moment Flynn realizes just how close Carrie is to her. She’s pressed up against them and her face is literally a breath away from theirs. She has to fight not to get flustered at the fact that this gorgeous girl is oh so close to them and how they are so aware of her every little movement.

Flynn swallows. “Says you, and what happened to babe?” It’s the best thing she can come up with at the moment.

“You’re still the love of my life, soda pop, but when you’re being a bit of an idiot I’m gonna call you an idiot. It’s how it works hun.”

Carrie can’t just say that. Especially not when she’s this close to Flynn who feels like they’re going to combust. It’s just not fair how she doesn’t have a single coherent thought in their mind. Her brain cells have decided to go on vacation to leave her speechless, which they very rarely are.

Flynn doesn’t even bother to wittily respond, partially because she can’t, so they just half watch the episode of Glee that’s still playing and enjoys the moment.

Singin’ in harmony

“For the last time bubblegum, I can rap, but I can’t sing.”

“Come on, at least try. You can’t possibly be as bad as you think,” Carrie pleads as the sun sets around them, painting the world a soft pink.

Carrie looks breathtaking in this glow against the pink sky. Pink has always been her colour. The shade doesn’t even matter, anytime she wears pink Flynn just has to do a double take. Not that she doesn’t look incredible in everything else, pink just kind of enhances it even more.

“You’ve heard me sing, pinky. Don’t act like you haven’t. You know it’s terrible.” Flynn walks slightly faster. If they keep looking at Carrie against the beautiful sky she’d do anything she asks.

Carrie puts a hand on their shoulder, making them stop for a moment. “Yeah, but I can’t remember the last time I heard you sing that wasn’t just singing terribly on purpose to random songs on the radio. Please, I promise I won’t make fun of you.” She just looks so genuine as she says those soft words. It’s enough to make Flynn fall head over heels for her once more, but really, she does that every second they’re with her.

“Maybe later. We’ll try to sing in harmony together.” Flynn takes Carrie’s hand. “Let’s go watch the sunset by the ocean.

Carrie smiles widely and Flynn automatically does the same

I bet she’s bragging to all her friends , sayin’ how you’re so unique

Unfortunately, Flynn never got the chance to sing in harmony with Carrie.

Flynn told herself she wouldn’t look at Carrie’s Instagram, but they just couldn’t help it. She misses her so much and it’s better than nothing, right? Plus Carrie hasn’t blocked them, and Flynn hasn’t either.

There’s a picture of Carrie and Kayla in Carrie’s Dad’s car. They’re both smiling and looking at the camera and eating some kind of snack, but Flynn can’t quite tell what. The caption says that they’re on a road trip to Malibu.

The next post shows Carrie and Kayla sharing strawberry ice cream at an ice cream shop in Malibu, there’s only one spoon. Carrie is wearing Kayla’s beautiful trademark purple jacket.

A picture of them watching an episode of Glee, both sprawled out on the couch together. They’re smiling widely and just look so happy.

Then a post of the two of them posing at sunset, the sky a soft pink that makes Carrie look angelic.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that too?

Carrie did all that with Flynn. They carry the memories so close to her heart. They mean so much to them. They’re a reminder of how it was before, when it was good, when they were all happy.

Now she’s doing all that with someone else. Flynn’s not jealous, but they don’t understand how Carrie’s able to do all of this. Flynn can barely think of road trips, strawberry ice cream, her favourite jean jacket, watching glee, and pink sunsets without being overwhelmed with her feelings and memories of Carrie.

She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused

Flynn can’t help but wonder if Carrie does all of these things with her friends. She’s obviously allowed to, but Flynn kind of thought she was special. They thought that maybe there was something else there. That maybe their feelings weren’t completely one sided, but that doesn’t matter anymore.

That was our place, I found it first

They both found that ice cream place in Malibu with Julie. It became a tradition to go there every time they went on a road trip there with Carrie’s Dad. It was important to them.

That post hurts slightly more than the rest. Flynn saw that place the first time they went to Malibu and dragged them all in. They wish she could go there again with Carrie, but that’ll never happen. Not after… everything.

I made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you

Do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Carrie has to get deja vu when she’s with Kayla, right? She can’t have just forgotten everything they’ve done together. Their entire friendship.

They were as close as could be for years, and now they’re nothing. The girl she knew and loved isn’t quite there anymore. Now she’s been replaced by mean comments and rude looks. Flynn hopes that they can get back to where they were, but it’s not likely.

Do you get deja vu?

Flynn gets deja vu when looking at her posts. She gets a sudden wave of nostalgia and wants to look through her closet to see her favourite jacket and all of their clothes that are connected to memories of Carrie.

Their friendship was as precious as gold, but just like in the poem, it didn’t stay.

Taglist: (send an ask to be added) @lyxchen @sunnysbright

[haikyuuwaifu]

Rockabye

Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, TW Child Abuse, TW Neglect, TW Alcoholism, TW Drug Use

Bakugo x F Reader x Shinsou Poly

Masterlist

The Return of Rei Todoroki| The Return 2| The Return 3

The Return 2

Y/N parked her car, unclicked her seat belt, and opened the door stepping out into the cool night air. Pulling her jacket around her, she pulled her phone out to text Katsuki; simply informing him of her location. Sliding her phone back in her pocket, she pushed the key fob walking towards the cafe, her car beeping locked behind her. Peering through the window, she scanned her eyes around the building until she noticed a familiar head of dark midnight hair huddle in the corner. Wrenching the door open, she stepped in.

Sliding her jacket off, Y/N slide into the booth across from Nemuri. The woman in front of her hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge her presence, and that was fine. She was fine with waiting until Nemuri was ready to talk. For the next hour, the two women sat in complete silence.

*A/N: This section will be written out in manuscript conversation form*

Nemuri:  Sighing softly, she spoke; “I think...I think I’m ready to talk about it.” she whispered, eyes trained on the table in front of her.

Y/N: “What exactly happened Nem?” she asked, tracing her fingers softly over Nemuri’s interlocked fingers.

Nemuri: “I had planned to leave work early, and surprise Enji. I left at noon; got my hair done...I even stopped at the store to buy his favorites to make him something nice for dinner...It had been a while since we had any one on one time.” she mumbled. Taking a sip of her coffee she continued on, “I knew he would be in the office, until at least 6. I called his secretary to confirm that he was in meetings and made my way over to his place.” her lips trembled now as the memories moved to the front of her eyelids. “When I got there, I was met with noises, which was odd; because I knew the maids were always gone by 1130 on thursdays...” she squeezed her fists tightly, knuckles turning white. “I made my way further into the house, only to hear a voice to the left of me...there was a woman draped across the couch...i-in nothing but Enji’s robe...the robe t-that I a-always...” 

Unable to finish her sentence, Nemuri’s body shook as she sobbed finally, letting the emotions spill over. Y/N slid out of her seat and over to her side pulling her into a hug. Stroking her hair she cooed softly, as she let Nemuri cry out her frustrations.

Y/N: “What happened next Nem?” she murmured softly. 

Nemuri: sniffling, she continued on, “She asked me who I was...and what I was doing in her husbands home. I told her that I was his girlfriend and that they had been divorced for years...She just...she laughed at me Y/N. She laughed in my face and told me, that I was a fool and that she and Enji had still been fucking around for years...years!” at this point, Nemuri’s sobbing had ceased, but her body still shook slightly. “I was so angry, becuase god could he really do something like that to me? After everything we’ve been through together?” she asked burying her face in Y/N’s hair. 

Y/N:  Next to her, Y/N’s mind was running through every possible scenario of how she was going to beat Rei’s ass. Still stroking Nemuri’s hair she asked softly, “What exactly did Enji tell you about Rei Nem?”

Nemuri: “ He didn’t go into much detail about her, jus that she wasn’t the best parent and they had stuck things out for the sake of the kids...at least until Sho turned 18.” she answered, dabbing her cheeks with the napkin in front of her. “Why? Is...Is there something I don’t know?” she asked.

Y/N:  “There’s a lot of things you don’t know Nem, and it’s probably best if I tell you, but let me get it all out before you ask your questions.” Y/N murmured moving back to her side of the booth...tapping her fingers against the table she spoke. “ I grew up in an orphanage, and as shitty as it was; I got lucky when I won the scholarship to attend school at Shoto’s school...I met Shoto when I beat these kids up for making fun of his scar...That scar was the result of Rei pouring hot water over him because he looked too much like his father.” she murmured eyes cast down towards the table. “I didn’t really know the extent of Rei’s abuse before I met Shoto, but after meeting him and his siblings; I could see the signs...Growing up in an orphanage full of kids who no one wanted, you knew what to look out for; and you knew you had to protect yourself...The Todoroki kids didn’t know those kind of life lessons.” 

Y/N: “The first time I stayed over, Shoto was a little worried, I’d never want to go back. At the time Enji, spent a lot of time at work...he didn’t know how to deal with what was going on at home; so Dabi was the one who took the brunt of the responsibility before I came along.” she said, waving her hand towards the waitress. Pointing at what she wanted to order she continued; “Everything had been fine when I got there, and I had gotten a long pretty well with the siblings...and then the door slammed open and a drunk Rei had come home...Shoto tried to apologize, but I had told him it was fine. I wanted to see what was happening, so I could better understand my new friend.” “She was so drunk, she didn’t even know I was there; but I watched as the good mood quickly disappeared. Natsuo had shrunken into a corner of the room, attempting to make himself practically invisible, and Dabi had made his way towards his mother ready to reign her in. Shoto stood in front of me, trying to hide me from her scrutunizing gaze, but her eyes were focused on Fuyumi.” 

Nemuri sat across from Y/N, her fists clenched as she listened to Y/N tell her about Rei. 

Y/N: “She poked at her slight rolls, and called her a pig. She tugged at her hair and told her it was a rats nest...she said awful things to her child with a voice full of absolute hatred.” she declared fist clenched and her knuckles white. “That was the first of many times I was bared witness to Rei Todoroki treating her kids like shit...I would come over and she would be drunk or strung out on whatever drug she had gotten her hands on that day...There wasn’t a lot I thought I could do, I didn’t want to lose my best friend or the siblings I had grown to love...When something bad happened, I just convinced Dabi that we should leave the house for the day. Enji would give us his credit card and we’d go and find something fun to do...One day when I was 11...I wasn’t able to come over, there was an adoption event at the orphanage and I didn’t have a choice but to go. I wish I had skipped it.” she mumbled. “Maybe if I had, then things would have been different...I went to school the next day, only to be met by the principle and Enji...there had been an accident at the house the night before and Dabi was in the hospital...I had been informed on the way there, that Rei had come home high on LSD and hallucinating. She thought Dabi was a burglar and had thrown the pan he was using to cook at him. He had been knocked unconscious when she knocked over cooking oil, resulting in the kitchen bursting into flames...Fuyumi and Natsuo had been at the library and Shoto was at anger management therapy...” 

Nemuri gripped Y/N’s hands tightly as tears started streaming down her cheeks. 

Y/N: “Rei...She ran out of the house in a panic, as the fire continued to spread throughout the house...she left her child behind...to die in that stupid fucking fire.” she whispered voice laced with hatred. “It was by some fucking miracle, that someone saw and called the fire department right away...Dabi ended up suffering severe burns all over his body; and was attached to a breathing tube for months...I don’t think I’d ever been as angry as I was when Rei showed up to his hospital room, sober and unassuming as to how her son ended up there.”...

Y/N: “It took Enji and three security officers to get me off of her. I couldn’t tell you how it happened, but I couldn’t see anything clearly but Dabi’s bandaged body and the woman responsible for it.”

Nemuri: “Jesus, Y/N... that’s so awful!” she whispered, hands over her mouth; shock adorning her features. 

Y/N: “Yeah well, not a lot could be done. As Enji’s wife she was entitled to half his shit...and her family had tons of money before the marriage...Enji only stayed on because the agreement said she’d get everything if he left her before the last child turned 18...she never even wanted kids...she just had them to trap Enji.” she murmured, taking a bite form the food set in front of her. “After the hospital, Rei made her dislike for me known strongly, but she didn’t abuse her kids anymore on the days I was around; which I tried really hard to do daily; but some things couldn’t be helped.” 

Nemuri: “So what happened after that?” 

Y/N: “For the next 7 years I looked after the Todoroki’s as best as I could. I convinced them to find things to do that would keep them out of the house, and I helped Enji learn how to talk to his kids...I suggested they attend family therapy without Rei...she was hardly ever home after a long discussion with Enji resulting in a tentative agreement that she would get whatever she wanted so long as she stayed away from them...and she had agreed. The older I got, the stronger I got and we had our run-ins from time to time. When I was 16 she found out Fuyumi was a lesbian and before she could go in on her for being an “abomination” I had her by the hair and out the door. I was bigger than I was at 11, so it hurt more...Rei made sure she and I were never in the same vicinity together so she could attempt to torture her children in peace; but I always found out.” “She would rat me out to the orphanage, but at that point they didn’t care what I did. I had my own job, I paid for my own things...I hardly even lived there anymore...” 

Nemuri: “They must have gotten the divorce right?” she asked fingers playing with the thread of her jacket sleeve, remembering how she had met Enji a few days after Shoto’s 19th birthday, 6 years before.

Y/N: She nodded her head, “Enji had the papers drawn up and ready to push through the day Shoto turned 18...Rei must have forgotten her agreement, because she was absolutely livid; but it didn’t matter...with the threat of legal action and physical violence she signed them and she’s been gone ever since.”

Nemuri: “Then what the fuck is she doing here now? Six years later?” she hissed, fists clenched, anger for the Todoroki’s and anger for Y/N present. “How could she do something like that to her kids? How could you take on that kind of burden Y/N?”

Y/N: “The Todoroki’s are the only family I have Nem...and I would do absolutely anything for them. Anything at all...Without hesitation I would do anything for them, and in that moment they needed me. They were also there for me...when I was 17 and pregnant and I needed them. She came back, because she must have heard that Enji had plans to make YOU the next Mrs. Todoroki and wanted to scare you off, but I’m not going to let that happen.” she murmured waving down the waitress. “I’m gonna pay this check, and we’re gonna take you home.”

Nemuri: “He was going to propose to me?” she asked. Y/N nodded as she put the money on the table. “Take me with you...If you’re going to Enji’s I want to be there...to see how you handle things.” she whispered. Nodding again, Y/N stood up. “Let’s go then, Shouta and Hizashi are already there; but I doubt  they’ve been much help in calming Enji down.” Y/N muttered, putting her jacket on and making her way out of the cafe.

-The Todoroki siblings had a pretty harsh life before Y/N. But as she said; they were family and she’d do anything for her family.

@dabilove27 @abyssmium @amarillyis @mushimoon14 @shikiry @therealwalmartjesus @bbymilkbread @kac-chowsballs @pepper-elaine @wineandionysus @loverofallthingsfoxy

[flameontheotherside]

A small breakdown?

I chopped off more of my hair. Its not as short as I chopped off 2 years ago because I don't want to "look like a lesbian" 🙄 and I don't like hair above my shoulders like that anymore. Im still going to grow it out long again but I do this every time I'm in a crisis and if my hair is damaged and it was.

Not sure what brought this on but should just get it out by writing.

A few days ago I asked Erik to go away, that I don't want to be his tf and I just want to live a normal life. My chest hurt. My heart hurt every time told him to go away. He protested of course. Said he's never leaving me again. That he's seen me at my worst and not even that would deter him. He even brought God to me. He skipped my granny who would smack sense into me and went straight to God. Just great!

Long story short this is my life path...just great. Erik said I can't just quit being someone's TF. That it's impossible and that I got this. Erik isn't going anywhere and he's trying to help me through this depression or whatever I'm going through right now...

I have a handful of things to look forward to. I'm overall happy but I guess deep down I'm just tired of living. My life ended up being the complete opposite of what I hoped for myself 15 years ago. I'm sad that my bf doesn't want to get married, I'm tired of having a dead TF, I miss home, and if I can't have what I want, I rather be alone.

No, I'm not suicidal or whatever. I'm just very disappointed with myself and how my life ended up. I rather smoke a giant blunt, down a six pack and listen to emo music and cry to be honest. My 33rd bday is coming up and I've got nothing.

Also my new cat keeps getting sick and we are losing money trying to get him better. I don't mind if it cuts into our food money because I'm fat again...that's another problem. I feel disgusting and fat. Because that's exactly what it is. I'm eating too much and laying in bed watching TV, and getting stoned.

I'm still losing weight but it's fluctuating like fucking crazy. Can't seem to get to 150 and I'm stuck between 160-170. I'm okay with 140 and I can handle 150 but not fucking 160+ but I just eat my feelings and kill myself almost at the gym trying to compensate.

My bf is a lot like Erik too. Sometimes it's nice, sometimes it's annoying and sometimes it makes me want to punch something. Lately it's made me want to punch something. Why did my life have to turn this way? Why didn't I just stop looking for Erik when I wrote that birthday letter? Well I did stop but it lasted a year. I should have totally given up and focused on growing up.

I hate myself to giving a fuck about finding Erik when I did. When the psychic told me he'd kill myself, instead of acting like an adult, I screwed up friendships, partied, had the wrong bfs and just basically coasted. I had a career but it ended because of my ex. He didn't want me to succeed further than him so he convinced me to stay down with him when I could have gone up.

Now I'm collecting disability, im on the spectrum, suffering from tourettes, depression (bipolar ii), anxiety, ptsd, adhd, ocd and..... I talk to spirits. Why not add that to the list of fuckery? 🙄🤦‍♀️I fucking talk to spirits.

My life is also a scifi-drama just without the cameras.

[inlovewithbuddyaurinko]

Vesbud First Meeting

“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened, besides, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?.”

Everyone knows and loves a meet-cute, but our favorite space lesbian moms had a meet-violent. For femslash February, an elaboration of the scene described in Vespa’s wedding vows with some of the author's artistic license thrown in.

co-written with @chobiwolf​

It had been a rough day for Vespa after a rough couple years. She’d managed to get a good steal in and had enough of a score in her pocket to drink the next two nights away without any concerns. It beat the previous few months of staying out of the way of any law authorities, it definitely beat being thrown in prison, only to be released by that...she shook her head, she couldn’t get caught up in dreaming about that near-magical laugh that would creep into the corners of her mind at any moment she wasn’t otherwise occupied.

The bar was nice, nicer than Vespa had any right to, but it was the only place that had a transport lift and at the moment, Vespa was out of any mode of transportation sturdier than a hijacked hovercycle. The number of people packed into the room, the walls practically shaking with the beat of the music being blasted over the hidden speakers hid the gangly woman easily out of the way in a corner to avoid judgemental glares of patrons dripping in the finest of venusian silks and velvets.

Buddy Aurinko thought she'd find her mark here, or a drink at the very least. Even though it had been years since the prison break, Buddy spotted her the moment she walked into the bar. Vespa Ilkay looked the same. It was like years of crime and a hard life hadn't done a thing to knock her down. This was a whipcord of a woman with a shock of razor cut green hair. She may have been huddled over a drink but she radiated fierceness. That quality was exactly what Buddy was here for. That... or a large sum of money and a drink with a cute girl. This was really win-win for her.

She slid into the seat beside Vespa, a drink in hand already. "Can I buy your next round, darling?"

Vespa jumped, face heating up when she realized that someone had managed to sneak up from behind, her hand going to a knife at her side before she laid eyes on the most beautiful woman in the whole damn galaxy. That same woman placed a tentative hand on the arm that had started to shift back to what was, undoubtedly, a knife.

“Oh uh, you don’t have to do that, I can pay my own way even if I don’t look like it.” was the stuttered reply, flicking her eyes over the frankly impressive form sitting next to her. “But I wouldn’t be opposed if you were to join me?”

"No, no, I won't hear of it, and I never repeat myself so don't make me ask again." Her demeanor was not overly friendly. But she angled herself towards the woman in a way that put their shoulders close enough to feel the heat coming off of eachother. "Why, I'm of the opinion that a dashing woman such as yourself should never have to buy herself a drink again." With her smile and the near panic in Vespa’s eyes, Buddy realized she would have to try and smooth things over quickly to prevent a bolt from the bar.

"So what do you say to one round? Your drink looks a bit more like salad than alcohol and I happen to know a few good options around here." She did a once over of the bar seemingly opening herself to a blindspot and making her appear a bit more genuine, though most of what she said was exactly the truth. Oh the trouble she could cause with this one… "Bartender!" A grizzled person who looked like they had less compassion than a swarm of rangian mosquitoes took her order, "Yes, and two of those please, one extra strong for the lucky lady. Oh, and in case it’s not clear: mine should be the strong one since I do seem to be a very lucky lady." She winked at Vespa.

Vespa should’ve kept a higher guard up. She shouldn’t have so readily allowed this woman to completely disarm her, but boy, this woman, this woman was the prettiest, fastest talking, most vivacious human she had never seen. The blush never quite left her face.

"So what brings you to this fine establishment?” Buddy gestured a bit vaguely to their surroundings.

Vespa’s hand didn’t quite leave her knife, but her shoulders lost the tension that had been carried there since she first sat down hours ago. She wouldn’t consider herself one for romance, but this woman....this woman could convince her that maybe a little wouldn’t be too bad. She’d never gotten a drink bought for herself before, and stared with eyes wide in surprise. “Uh just, you know, a place to hang around. What about you? You look like you belong here more than I do. Like I should be watching you in a stream, not, not have you next to me here.”

A bright laugh bubbled out of Buddy. She had never been a stranger to compliments, but she turned quickly to grab their drinks as a distraction from the slight heat she felt flush in her cheeks.

"Here we are! And who knows maybe I am on some stream somewhere," she smiled knowing it was likely Neptune's most wanted or something to that effect, "but I've certainly found this place just as cozy as you have.” The bar was probably the opposite of cozy, it would be listed in the dictionary with the word ostentatious.

“Perhaps even more so since there definitely wasn't a pretty girl at the bar when you came in." She put on a bit of drama, "Oh my, unless there was! Look at me: I've known you for 10 minutes and already a homewrecker. The shame of it! Well, I say shame but I can't actually find a single iota of it in me. So tell me, are you, in fact, here with someone, darling?" She paused to take in Vespa desperately trying to keep up with her manic speech. Buddy sipped from her drink to keep herself from talking more. Maybe she was a bit more nervous than normal. Marks weren't normally this— well this adorable, this dashing, this capable! That last one she was about to test.

Vespa cleared her throat, voice suddenly raspy with nerves. “No. Uh, no, just, just me here.” This woman really did talk a lot and her own head was slightly spinning. “I think I prefer the seat occupied by you instead of it being empty.” She attempted to flirt, cringing slightly at herself at how awkward it sounded. “Uh, Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. It’s gotta be as pretty as you?”

Buddy flashed a smile at her, wide and genuine at Vespa's incredibly honest way of flirting. "The name's Buddy," here she leaned in close and whispered, "and since you aren't here with anyone at the moment, would you like to be, miss…?" she trailed off hoping the other would also supply her name. By now the two of them had slid much closer and the hand she originally had on her knife arm had moved up to the woman’s far shoulder.

“Ilkay.” Vespa blurted out, cheeks tinged a deeper pink still. “Vespa Ilkay. Nice to meet you Buddy.” Her skin was covered in pinpricks where Buddy’s arm was around her, like every single nerve was standing on their head. She felt hot and hoped that she didn’t seem as nervous as she felt. Buddy was leaning in so close that it was like there were only two of them in the whole world.

"Vespa Ilkay…" Buddy knew that name, and she knew ultimately why she had come to 'run into' her, and yet here, face to face, she felt a nagging almost-girlhood crush from her 'tag along with dad to work days'. None-the-less the words slipped off her tongue like silk and she found her drink abandoned as she focused on the woman's face. All harsh, strong edges, and softening honest blush. Hair knocked loose from its gelled, spiked style by the constant shaking head and flustered denial of compliments.

She just couldn’t help herself, what was a little more distraction for one night after all? She brushed Vespa's hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her other hand had come to rest comfortably at the middle of Vespa's back now, trailing lazy circles with her thumbnail. "Why, darling you look positively feverish!" For emphasis she put the back of her hand on Vespa's forehead, "Hm, well I'm no doctor, but maybe another drink would cool you down? Or… maybe you want to get out of this place with me? I could show you an exciting time to be sure.”

Vespa would have passed out right then and there, Buddy's voice like a purr in her ears. She could’ve died and been perfectly happy. The hand on her back felt like it was shooting electric currents into her spine. The only way to make sure she didn’t melt into more of a mess was by running through in her head all the most easily breakable bones in the human body. She ran a hand through her hair, unable to imagine that this was real, it must be impossible, she had to be dreaming.

“I’m fine, I’ll just need a moment.” She straightened up her back, going-anywhere with Buddy sounded amazing. But no, she couldn’t. That was too much. “I’ll get out of here eventually.”

Buddy leaned back and the previous closeness had her wearing quite a dark flush herself. She felt the heat in her face and rather hoped it didn't clash with her hair. A ridiculous thought, one that made it clear that she was flustered herself, though she'd never admit it. She reeled herself in. She was a bit dismayed the rest of her night would not be spent with a companion, but the evening was not a total loss: there still was the money she was here to steal, now, there was just the matter of actually taking it.

Buddy breathed in and looked around trying to feign a bit of embarrassment, eyes cast down with a demure flutter of eyelashes. "I hope you'll forgive me for being so forward. It's not often I come across a lady like you." She looked up, making purposeful eye contact with a visibly flustered Vespa.

"Miss Vespa Ilkay, I do hope we see each other again." She leaned so far forward she saw the panic from the other that this was a kiss. It was not. Her lips brushed the other woman's cheek and she whispered, "Sooner rather than later if you can." She did then press a chaste kiss to Vespa's jawline as she slid out of her seat leaving a hint of brilliant red in her wake. The close contact made it easy to slip the card from Vespa's pocket into her own hand. She stood up fully and cleared her throat. "I do believe I may need to go to the powder room though, so... dear?" She turned Vespa's face to her own delicately, "Do take care of yourself."

Buddy went to the restroom of the bar that she knew had a broken window and a solid escape plan. She had left behind merely one thing besides the lipstick on Vespa's face. One thing in the form of a note written on a napkin. It would probably take Vespa a while to notice it if she noticed it at all. But it read as follows:

Wonderful doing business, darling. Sorry those drinks ended up being so expensive for you. But I did not lie to you, I do want to see you again…. If you can catch me.

--Buddy Aurinko

Vespa Ilkay was love struck. There was no other way to put it. She sat with her drink in her hands, once again staring down at the countertop, but this time, with a fond little smile on her face.

She was convinced that never before had anyone captured any heart so quickly as Buddy had wormed her way into her brain. There wasn’t anything more Vespa wanted than to drag her off to that damn washroom she said she was headed and kiss their brains out against the door, an activity she hadn’t felt motivated to do with anyone before. She looked down at her hand where it had dabbed at the mark on her cheek, a perfect mirror of Buddy’s lips in the palm of her hand. The red lipstick seemed to glow against her own skin.

20 minutes later and the bartender was glaring at her and making snarky comments about buy another or get the fuck out.

Vespa wasn’t particularly looking forward to going to find some dark corner to fall asleep in, but if it had to be done it had to be done. She reached into her pocket for her score to pay for all her drinks and she froze. It was gone. All of it. All that was left was a damn note. She cursed aloud. Scanning over the note, she then cursed her dumb heart for stupidly skipping a beat, dammit, even Buddy’s damn handwriting was gorgeous. Thankfully, there were just enough creds to pay for both their fucking drinks stuffed into her boot she could use. It now meant though that she would have no safety net if something were to go wrong, or even another way off the planet.

She stormed out of the bar, figuring that damn woman couldn’t have gotten far. She went towards the more crowded, better lit part of town. Aurinko clearly knew what she was doing. And someone as fabulous as her could blend in among a crowd more easily than in the dark and shadows. Finally, after what felt like forever of running, she spotted a shock of bright red hair at the opposite end of the street and started to push people out of her way as she was running towards her.

Meanwhile, Buddy slipped through the crowds like a fish through water. She flipped the card a few times in her hands before pocketing it in a holster on her thigh. Sure she turned a few heads here and there but she knew how to disappear when she wanted. Right now she was a bit careless though, having just wooed a pretty lady and gotten the score of the decade, and with barely any work on her part.

Suddenly, she heard a disturbance behind her and glanced back to see that same vivid green hair poke out through the crowd as Vespa not so much ran as plowed her way through the crowd. Buddy smirked, my this one did catch on fast didn't she? Buddy broke into a sprint and rounded a corner into an abandoned alleyway. She only stopped there briefly to remove her heels to make her tracks harder to follow as she crossed through to another backstreet.

The alley Buddy disappeared down of course connected to another side street that Vespa cursed out everyone who had ever worked on it from their first to last breaths of their lives. Her thick boots kept her from completely falling over as she made the sharp turns necessary and though she lost easy sight of the red hair that she had before, she managed to spy it again part way down the next street. “AURINKO!” She shouted off after Buddy, heads turning to look at what the commotion was. A sober Vespa would not have brought so much attention to herself, or to her target. A sober Vespa could slide between people and shadows with not so much as a whisper of clothing brushing against each other. Knives could disappear into backs before the glint of steel was seen, bodies would hit the floor, dead from poison before taste was processed by the tongue. But now, Vespa Ilkay was on a manhunt, willing to slash and burn in a fight against Buddy Aurinko. So,it was normally not a very good thing to draw attention to oneself if you were trying to stay unnoticed, but she wasn’t letting her get away with her score and only way off this miserable planet.

Buddy smiled to herself as she turned another sharp corner into an alley that would take her up a side fire escape and up out of Vespa's reach. But when she got there the stairs were out of sight. A quick glance around showed her their charred remains clinging half-heartedly to the building's side above her. She heard Vespa yell her name and knew she had no time to escape.

“Shit."

Profanity did not become her and she certainly would refrain more were she in anyone's company, but as it was she had no one around to hear her… Thank goodness for that. Though that would not be the case soon. She didn't have a blaster on her and she really would rather not use that on Vespa anyway, so she drew her knife from one of her many thigh holsters and readied herself for a fight.

Turning the corner, Vespa skidded to a stop, knife drawn already and barely caught herself from falling over from the sudden cease of movement when she saw Buddy trapped there at the end of the alley. She grinned, the expression dark and proud, teeth looking more like razors. This was a woman who had fought through blood and liked it.

“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened.” Buddy looked to be illuminated from the shaft of light spilling over the buildings around her, making her hair look like flames. She still looked strong and steadfast, Vespa knew that this fight wouldn’t be as easy as it may have appeared to be, and only one of them would be walking out of that alley. And Vespa was willing to place money that it was going to be herself.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening today, darling." Buddy flashed a grin of her own, winsome and daring. She took the opportunity then to throw her heels at the woman who not only held an impressive dagger but was glaring them at her as well. Vespa rushed at her. Despite the small space, Buddy was able to parry and roll to her left, deftly avoiding the attack. This was certainly the most fun she had had in years.

The heels were certainly a clever ruse, but Vespa ducked them, internally tsk-ing that they were going to get scratched, Buddy didn’t seem like the kind of person to do that to her clothes, not that Vespa cared, of course.

The run at Buddy still left Vespa with her back to the entrance, she wasn’t born yesterday of course. But she couldn’t help but admire how cleanly Buddy dodged her knife. Nothing that could be considered aggressive was being done yet, they were still circling, feeling the other out.

“Those are my creds, not yours.Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?” She made another quick swipe at Buddy’s bust line which forced her to take a hop back, though still with plenty of room between them.

Buddy laughed breathlessly at the exhilaration of their fight. They were both so evenly matched that it was more dance than confrontation. She hadn’t felt like this since the day she ruined her fathers prison, just because she could. The day she had first seen Vespa Ilkay.

In her distraction, Vespa got the drop on Buddy and tackled her. Getting the wind knocked out of her chest stunned Buddy enough that when she regained her concentration a split second later, Vespa’s very sharp blade was at her throat, and she felt a small trickle of blood run down the nape of her neck. She still had a hand on her own knife though, and she angled the blade up towards the woman on top of her. She couldn't help but start laughing again, breathless, overtaken, and evenly matched. She looked into the woman’s eyes above her as she tapped the blade to her abdomen.

Vespa was about ready to drive the knife through her, not enough to kill her, someone so beautiful didn’t deserve that. But it was just so she could take her creds and go, but that laugh. It floored her.

She knew that laugh. That was the laugh that saved her. The fiery shock of red hair she only managed to get a glimpse of when she ran.

The starstruck woman didn’t even notice the knife running along her side, a dangerous position she would never allow anyone to get her into in any other situation. The thin blade lightly skimming over her shirt next to her skin sent shivers down her spine. Just, Buddy’s eyes. They were like pools she could get lost in.

It was the most unattractive, ungraceful thing that. Just-just staring down at the woman beneath her, mouth agape. “You-you were the one at the prison. You saved me.” Vespa collapsed one side to roll off of Buddy, still staring at her in shock, unable to process what just happened.

Buddy breathed a sigh of relief as Vespa rolled off of her, and they both lay there on the dusty ground of the alleyway, staring at an alien sky.

“I suppose I was, and I did.” Her voice was nostalgic and drawn out.

She pulled the card with Vespa’s score stored in it from her hoster and held it up above them, an outlined rectangle dangling from elegant fingers standing out against the artificial atmosphere, “Well, we seem to be doing all right for ourselves solo, but don’t you think we’d be better as a pair?” She smirked. Buddy turned her head to face the other woman and smiled at her, no wit, no false charm, but completely genuine and a little vulnerable.

Vespa’s heart still sounded like it was beating in her ears, dazed. Her eyes flitted to the card held in the air above them. She could just reach out and take it, but she didn’t want to, it was like it would break the dream she was in. A minute passed, no sound was heard but their still heavy breathing and the faint sounds of people talking, a car driving by, the headlights casting shadows down the alley. “So?” Buddy asked again, “How about that offer to get out of this boring old dump with me?”

Vespa squeezed her eyes shut, making sure she wasn’t dreaming for the second time that night when her brain caught up to her ears. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds— that sounds great.” Vespa’s eyes opened and she turned her head to look back at Buddy. Somehow, Buddy looked even more radiant than before. Just so hopeful and full of life, like with her, the two of them had the entire universe at their fingertips. “I think a partner in crime could be good.”

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Cost of Living || Morgan & Erin

TIMING: Before Lydia’s death

PARTIES: @corpse--diem & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan seeks comfort from a friend who understands a little about murder and revenge.

CONTAINS: two sad gays

Morgan had never bemoaned her inability to drink more. She had almost dropped the large bottle of bourbon she’d brought for Erin out of spite on the way over. But it stayed tight in her grip as she shambled to her friend’s apartment and knocked on the door. When it opened, she said nothing, but sank, almost as if falling, into Erin’s chest, hoping she’d catch her. “Everything...is going...to shit,” she said. Her words were muffled on account of being mumbled into Erin’s shirt, but the heavy weariness in her tone filled in whatever got lost. Morgan just managed to pull herself upright again. “I’m honestly not even sure how much to tell you because I am so fucking tired of losing friends right now. But, you know, hi. And uh—” She lifted the bourbon. “Congrats. Careful, she’s heavier than I make her look.”

There was a flurry of Morgan and leftover glitter trailing in from the hallway the moment Erin opened the door. “Hey there dollfa--oof,” she started to welcome her friend, and did her best to catch her with the one good arm she had and braced still healing ribs for impact. The collapsed hug took a little bit of her breath but from the exhaustion and disarray in Morgan’s voice, Erin knew it was more than worth it. She gave the woman a hard squeeze anyway, rubbing her arm, her own face riddled with empathy and understanding. “Honestly, there’s little that can surprise me anymore, so this is a safe space. Say as much of your peace as you need to.” A small smirk lifted the corner of her lips at Morgan’s offering. “That helps. A lot. Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about top shelf.” Benefits of dating a mysteriously wealthy woman, she supposed, remembering the car Deirdre bought Blanche and the apartment and dog she’d given Nic. Ushering her friend inside, she lamented the fact that she didn’t have any spare eyeballs or hearts or something for her friend to munch on for the first time since she’d given up the organ business. “Now. Please, sit down, tell me all about it,” she said, gesturing towards the couch as she grabbed a glass from the kitchen.

Morgan followed Erin’s urging and collapsed onto the couch, ragdoll style. “No one understands what I’m doing. Or--okay, Deirdre understands what I’m doing. There’s this tortured, maybe-evil vampire who sometimes understands what I’m doing. But everyone else I’ve brought into this, my friends--friend I asked over and over if they were sure and if they could handle it--either don’t want anything to do with it, or they’ve decided to take matters into their own hands and--” She scrubbed her eyes clean before the tears burning behind them could fall. “The person I thought was one of my closest friends tried to steal my exorcism ingredients. After they hatched a plan with the ghost I’m after. The ghost that killed me in the street. That murdered one of my students and endangered the rest of them. Oh, and get this! She’s my great-great grandmothers’s ex! Which means I was cursed from birth and then murdered over a shitty nineteenth century lesbian drama!” She slumped over, holding her head in her hands.”Listen,” she groaned, “Before I get too cozy with the rest of my bullshit, I need you to be very, very honest with me: are you going to want throw me out for wanting to wreck the ghost who destroyed me and my family over the past one hundred twenty whatever years? Because I can just go, if this is making you uncomfortable. It’s not like I can get drunk with you anyway.”

There wasn’t much to do but listen once Morgan started. Truly started. Collapsing at the door was only a small taste of what Morgan needed to spill out, like a pot of boiling water no longer able to contain its contents. Erin knew that feeling all too well. There was more than a few familiar pings that went off as she spoke, actually and most of them weren’t pleasant. “If you try to tell me you don’t know the answer to that, I actually will throw you out,” Erin said firmly, turning enough on the couch so Morgan had no other option than to face her. Her voice softened slightly. “Constance deserves what’s coming to her and you deserve to be the one to end it. But this—“ she gestured vaguely towards Morgan, “the fights, the lows, things going wrong, people dying and getting hurt. People won’t look at you the same and your relationships’ll change. That’s part of the Big Time Take Back My Life Revenge package. And it feels like shit.” She paused, reaching for her forearm gently.  “I support you no matter what, okay? But that’s part of this and something you have to accept and live with when it’s over.”

Morgan laughed through her tears. “Are you sure everything she did isn’t suddenly invalidated by her being a ghost or being young? Because some people seem to feel that way, and I didn’t realized that over a century’s worth of being magically ground up and spat out or being murdered was some kind of conditional thing, nevermind what average standards of adulthood were in the 1890’s, or life expectancy, or anything other than her stupid Little Coven on the Prairie face.” She dragged her hands through her hair, trying to brace herself for the worst. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I know you’ve...you’ve done something incredible and hard and awful and you are so much stronger and more free now, even if not everyone sees that. And I just want some of that control back. Even a little. I want the last word on how that ends. And I...I hate it so much but I don’t know how close I even can be with someone who won’t try to understand how important and personal this is. I just didn’t think it would be so much.” She finally looked at Erin again, searching her face for disapproval, for hesitation. “And then there’s the personal life stuff but I think we, uh, should have a round of you stuff first. The way you sound, I don’t guess it’s all been victory laps and roses since you killed Roy.”

Erin softened only slightly when Morgan brought up the ghost’s age. Being a ghost didn’t matter much to her - if they had conscious thought and free will, and knew better, then it was free game to right some wrongs. Right? Still, she felt herself paling at Morgan’s compliments. “Maybe. A part of me feels better but a part of me doesn’t either? I’m not trying to sound preachy but that’s all I’m trying to say. You gain and regain some things but you lose things too. Some of those things you can’t get back.” It wasn’t exactly the same as Morgan’s situation but the core of it, even in a general sense, was something that felt unfortunately familiar. Roy had destroyed her family just as much as Constance had Morgan’s. A tight-lipped, wry smile crossed her lips at Morgan’s question and she leaned forward to grab her drink again. She raised her brows and took a sip. “What do you mean? I’m thriving.” Another sip emptied the glass and the bourbon went burned smoothly down her throat. She poured herself some more, a little apologetic that Morgan couldn’t partake. Sounded like she needed a few glasses herself right now. “I got what I wanted,” she nodded, giving a dry laugh. “Roy’s dead, my friends are in literal pieces, my house and business are still half-ash, my boyfriend’s gone and my best friend just blocked me from her life. Hopefully that’s not a taste of what you might end up with. Learn from my mistakes?” She offered before knocking back another long sip.

Morgan watched Erin drink enviously. Sometimes she could go for a day or two without missing her life, but seeing Erin’s nerves unclench as the liquid sloshed down her throat, the way she slumped into the cushions, actually taking in the comfort of softness, reminded Morgan of how much she’d lost and how much everyone who pretended to get it or understand that things ‘sucked’ or were ‘unfair’ had no fucking clue. But she wasn’t circling the drain so hard that she couldn’t catch the exhaustion in Erin’s voice. “Literal pieces? You and Nic, Marley--what? Okay, first of all, whatever edgelord bullshit Marley is pulling right now is not your fault. If she’s going to push people away and turn into a toxic asshole, that’s her problem, not yours. I mean, I’m sorry it hurts, and it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it, but I don’t think it’s you, Erin.” Morgan grabbed one of the pillows on Erin’s couch and squIshed it over her stomach, digging her fingers in until it looked ready to burst. “I know it wasn’t perfect, nothing is perfect,” she said quietly. “But I do think it was right. And maybe if more people had been pushed into such an awful, desperate situation, they wouldn’t be so quick to decide they know best.” Morgan certainly didn’t trust anyone except for Deirdre with the true price of eradicating Constance. Miriam wouldn’t bat an eyelash,but their last talk had been so complicated, and she wanted Miriam to understand a life with as little violence as possible. It wouldn’t be fair to keep asking her to sink into the dark with her just because she was already there and deeper. Erin had killed in the name of her cause, and Roy was just as dangerously persistent as Constance. But the methodology of killing him hadn’t been important. Holding her secret even tighter than the pillow across her chest, Morgan lifted her gaze to meet Erin’s. “I don’t know what it’s worth to you, but I will not stop being your friend just because you decided your life was worth more than the law or other people’s comfort. I believe in what you did. I’m sorry it’s...that it’s hard.” She knew hard too. She looked at it every day she checked in with the exorcist, insisting she had a plan for the source and could do it herself. “Is there anything I can do…?” She asked quietly.

Erin couldn’t help the snorting laugh when the word “edgelord” popped up into the conversation, nor could she help the wave of despair that followed it. Marley was tough, had a flair for the dramatics, sure, but she had also been the closest thing Erin had to a best friend she’d had in a decade. And Nic - well, that one still felt too fresh and raw to poke at yet. But Morgan’s presence and words alone were a calming salve she needed more than she realized. “The accident really messed her up. Big time. I know it’s not okay, the way she’s handling this and the way she’s treating me for it. She signed up for this and she pushed me out of the way so I wouldn’t die. But I don’t know that I’d be handling it well either. I just--I have to give her some time, you know? She’ll come around.” Probably. She has to, she thought, circling the top of her glass with her index finger. And if she didn’t? Erin wasn’t ready to contemplate that just yet. Morgan’s next words hit harder than she was prepared for and only furthered to cement how deeply Morgan understood what she was going through right now. She was one of the few who truly could.

She glanced over, that familiar burn tingling behind her eyes and she reached for one of the hands that threatened to tear apart her throw pillow. “Hey, me too, okay?” she nodded, squeezing her cold fingers hard. “I promise you’re stuck with me.” It was a weird promise to make, and not one Erin often promised anyone, but the dedication and loyalty Morgan had shown her throughout this entire thing had been unparalleled and that was a rare thing to have in her life. She’d be an idiot to let that fall to the wayside. “Just sitting here and listening to be whine about my life is all a girl can really ask for.” The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile. “Whatever you need from me too, you know. You’ve got it.” She raised a brow, tilting her head. “And hey, get me an iron rod and some salt and I can punch some ghosts for you too. I’m not above punching a murderous ghost-brat if the situation calls for it.”

Morgan couldn’t fault Erin for standing by her friend, even if she thought everything would be much simpler with Marley Stryder left in the dust. She was a person, complicated and pitiful and capable of more than just harm. But she was also a person who complicated Morgan’s life considerably, and had now hurt three people Morgan cared for. She gave Erin a squeeze and said, “If you say so. I hope she comes through, for your sake.” Morgan didn’t feel convinced for a minute, but Erin deserved a better friend than that. Injury or not, Marley could afford to at least be more communicative about the shit she was grappling with.

Morgan smiled at Erin’s reassurance and swallowed back the urge to cry again. “That means a lot, you know. I’m...stars, I’m just so tired of this. And of people not understanding. If I can just get it over with…” Even with the human cost, she could finally be free of everything. “And the last thing I want is for you to end up as part of Constance’s next body count. She’s not afraid to murder to get to me, and I have enough blood on my hands. But maybe next time we go out I’ll give you some iron knuckles or a big ol’l thing of salt to hang onto.” She snorted through her tears. “At least after all these years I have a salt pistol now. It’s kind of cool until you remember it’s only good for one thing.” She wiped her face and leaned into her friend’s shoulder. “But there is...I don’t know if you can do anything, is the thing, but maybe you might know someone after the whole...Roy mess. But the guy Felix left in charge of my decap isn’t so great with the timely deliveries. Smaller loads, and tighter timelines, like down to the wire. And you’ve never seen me how...the way I get sometimes. If you can give me a name, some other hookup or back up avenue I can look into so I don’t lose my fucking mind on top of anything else, that would be pretty swell, not gonna lie.”

Erin had a feeling Morgan wouldn’t quite understand her attachment or commitment to Marley. She hadn’t seen the side of Marley that remained on her side through the entire Roy ordeal, who’d thrown herself in the line of fire when Erin had been dangerously close to meeting her maker. It wasn’t something she could explain either. Whether she liked it or not, Marley was too important and too close to her now to toss aside. “One can only hope with her,” she teased gently.

“Oh, Morgan,” she chuckled a little, holding her friend close when she began to dissolve into a mess of tears, trying to fight back the ones Morgan’s words were slowly edging out of her.  God, she didn’t want to cry. She was so tired of crying and moping around this apartment, moving from her bed to the couch and back, even if that’s all her body was telling her she was capable of lately. “A salt pistol? Have you ever used it?” She smirked, raising a brow. “I could totally go for those iron knuckles though, if you get a chance. It could be multipurpose. Ghosts aren’t the only things that need punching,” she laughed, but only for a moment, Morgan’s next question slowly dawning on her like a slow dread building. Morgan had mentioned her medication before, and that Felix had been her prior hookup. And now she needed a new hookup. Her request wasn’t an unreasonable one, and if there was anything Erin could do to ease even a little bit of Morgan’s plight, she’d jump at it. But diving back into that mess? Reaching out to contacts she thought she’d never have to speak to again? She tensed unintentionally, straightening her back, but tried to relax again and rested her cheek on top of Morgan’s head. “Yeah. Sure. I can’t make any promises. I know I was in that world and I know a few people I can contact but if that’s what you need, then I’ll see what I can do.” She glanced down for a moment, straining to pull a smile onto her face, reaching down to lightly tap Morgan’s nose with her index finger. “And if it means one less thing you’ve gotta worry about dollface, I’ll be glad to.”

“I’ve fired it a couple times, actually,” Morgan sniffled, managing a small grin. “I actually got Constance in the head with one once. It was pretty great in the moment.” In the fallout, not so much, but she was trying to make herself feel better, not worse. “A couple other times too. In uh, in a car chase, actually. I didn’t get her, but maybe you’d be proud of me, leaning out the window like I was in a movie. And I wasn’t even on mobster brains or anything.” Her smile flickered wider for a moment and she gave Erin a squeeze to the extent of, I’m okay, I’ll be okay.

She was still touching her when Erin tensed. “I didn’t know who else to ask,” she said. “I just need a name, a jumping off point. And I can pay. If that’s a question with anyone you talk to. Deirdre covers me and you know she’s good for it, and I’ll take...fuck, I take whatever the price is. I don’t want to be gouged by some asshole, but I need to be myself or none of this is worth anything.” She caught Erin’s finger and hooked it around her own, as she made a soft, wet laugh. “Thanks, dollface,” she whispered. “I can come with, if you want some back up. I think I made quite an impression that one time. And you know I’m a lot tougher than I look, even if I am kind of a crybaby.” With Erin’s assurances, Morgan deflated with relief and finally stretched out, feet on the coffee table. “So what’s this about Nic, and the other stuff? Was that...part of the things you lost because of what you did for yourself?” She gave her a little nudge and lowered her voice. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to be tough gal, shit together Erin all the time with me either.”

It wasn’t funny, but it really was and Erin let out an abrupt laugh at the image of Morgan running around with a salt pistol, hanging out of car windows and shooting ghosts in the head like some tiny badass, peppy zombie with a mission. “I’m sorr--no, actually, I’m not sorry. That’s amazing,” she managed between hard giggles shaking her shoulders. “Why do I never get to see you do any of this badass stuff? How is this fair?” She shook her head, letting out a long breath as she relaxed a little further into the couch. “Promise you’ll teach me how to use one of those things one day?”

Erin could hear the hint of desperation in Morgan’s voice and knew this wasn’t something she was asking lightly. Asking your reluctant friend to reach into shady contact rolodex for illegal supernatural drugs wasn’t usually high on anyone’s list. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. But If I need your assist, you better come packing heat, you hear?” She teased slightly, trying to hide the dread building. She wasn’t looking forward to stepping back into that world but there were a few people she could reach to who didn’t want her dead for what she accomplished with Roy. For all Morgan had done for her, this was the last she could do. She squeezed Morgan’s hand, relieved at possibly settling some of Morgan’s nerves. Without thinking, Erin shifted only to grab her drink again and settled back against Morgan and the couch. Fiddled with it between her hands anxiously. “I don’t know--” she shook her head as she struggled to put it to words. “Getting here took everything I had. My home, my work. Did a number on my relationships too. Living with everything I had to do just--I thought I was ready for it, and I forced myself to be, but actually living with it makes me feel like I didn’t win anything at all.” Felt weird to say that outloud. Morgan was the first person she’d been able to open up so honestly about where she landed with the fall out and god did it feel good to know that she’d heard. Really heard. “The Nic thing--it’s unrelated to everything. He had to go on some hunter mission… thing, and didn’t know when, or even if he’d be back. And right now I can’t even think about leaving. I’m trying to rebuild, you know? The timing just--it sucks.” She took a deep, wavering breath when she felt the warmth of tears pushing forward down her cheeks and smothered them with a long swig of bourbon. “It really, really fucking sucks.”

“I guess you don’t hang out with me enough,” Morgan teased. “But I guess I could show you a thing or two. Not sure how helpful a salt round would be since your eyeballs aren’t dead enough to see ghosts, but we’ll have a good time. Probably wouldn’t hurt, knowing how to pop off a few rounds in a pinch. I don’t think White Crest has shooting ranges in every corner of town like they do in Texas, but there’s gotta be something in a place with this many hunters. If you want a badass date, you just have to say the word and I’m there, okay?”

Maybe that date would be soon, maybe it wouldn’t. There was an awful gravity to Erin’s words, like she was speaking from the bottom of a pit. And what she said, that she didn’t feel like anything had been won and therefore felt no satisfaction or relief or...anything that Morgan craved at the end of this bullshit tunnel. And it was so unfair, for Erin to lose someone she should have been able to lean on the most at a time like this. Morgan was glad Nic had gotten out of this cruel place, at least for a while, but the leaving itself made her wonder if White Crest really was more cursed than she’d ever been.

“Hey. You can rest now, Erin,” Morgan whispered, watching the gleam of tears build up behind her friend’s eyes. “Maybe it doesn’t feel good right now, but you can rest. It’s okay.” She went still, still watching, waiting to see if Erin would believe her. Then she said, “What’s going to make you feel like you can stop running, or hiding, or whatever else you’re trying to tell yourself? I’m good for more than just talking or fighting, you know.”

Erin smiled at the prospect. “You got it. It’s a date,” she promised. It’d be good to do something with Morgan that wasn’t backed by pure necessity for once. Whether it was someone owing someone a favor or needing a shoulder to cry on. It wasn’t often she had the opportunity anymore to simply enjoy herself with her friends. Had all the time in the world now for that, didn’t she?

Morgan’s words were soft and kind and didn’t help much in the way of keeping those tears behind her eyes. Her question was a good one and it gave Erin pause as she wondered it herself. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, shaking her head, clutching the glass tightly in her hands. It felt like she’d been running and fighting for so long now, she almost didn’t know how to stop. How to make the cogs and wheels in her head run at half speed or allow her mind and body the break they so desperately needed. “I’m still so… angry. And unsatisfied.” And lost. A large part of her never truly believed she was making it out of that whole thing alive.

Her eyes jumped up to Morgan’s suddenly. “God, this sounds terrible doesn’t it? We literally just talked about how we’re both going through this, and here I am making the endgame look pitiful and hopeless.” She rubbed her eyes, letting her fingers run down the side of her face as she took a deep breath. “It can’t feel like this forever though, you know? It’ll get better. I’m really leaning into this idea that destroying everything so you can rebuild, properly rebuild your life, will make it worth it. Because it has to be. And that’s all I can do at this point.”

Morgan nodded through a tight smile. “It’s okay. I’d rather you be honest than lie to make me feel better,” she said. And it would be different for her, right? She hadn’t lost her home like Erin had, but she had her zombie body and she had her mother’s box of trauma sitting in the closet. She hadn’t thought to dump any of it at the feet of her mother’s ghost, and it was too late now. That door was as likely to open again as Morgan’s magic. She had lost more than plenty and she had everything to win by seeing this through. Even with a little blood on her hands-- Morgan had come too far to make this stop, right? She would get to after and better and so would Erin. They just needed the dust to settle for a fucking minute.

“And it will be,” she said, firmly enough that it would sound like she believed it already.

“But what about right now? In my experience, you can either dance it out or cry it out. Where, you know, cry doubles as screaming. What are you feeling like tonight, doll?”

It will be. Erin could only nod and placed a hand on top of Morgan’s. Maybe it would be different for Morgan, maybe she’d get the satisfaction of putting to rest a lifetime of atrocities and pain for good when Constance was finally gone. It was all Erin wanted for her. It was what she deserved, frankly. And if this was how she had to go about getting it, getting her hands a little dirty, she could support her just as much as Morgan had. “It will be,” she repeated, more confident, even if it was partially pure bravado.

Morgan’s question rolled around in her mind as she took a long, slow sip. What did she want to do right now? She wanted to drink. She looked at the still nearly full bottle. Check. More crying sounded terrible and yelling wasn’t really her thing if she could prevent it. But she understood what Morgan was asking of her. A smirk lit up her features and she downed the rest of her glass. “Wait here,” was the only thing she said before unfurling herself from Morgan and the couch, moving with a sudden fire under her feet. When she reappeared with a box of clinking dishware, there was a pep in her step and an old field hockey stick under her arms. “Grab that bottle?” She nodded towards the bourbon. Didn’t wait for Morgan before hightailing it for the front door and took to the stairs that led to the roof. “Did I ever tell you I used to play field hockey in high school?” She let the box fall gently to the ground once they made their way up and she took a breath, that mischievous grin still lighting up her face. “And my mom left me some of the ugliest China I’ve ever seen in my life.” She dug into the box, pulling out the first mug her fingers touched. She’d been holding onto them for sentimental value she supposed but now? They just seemed… heavy. Unnecessary. “What’s that one lady say?” She asked, eyeing the mug as she held the stick up, lining up a trajectory. “If it doesn’t bring you joy—“ she tossed it into the air, swung, and shattered it into a dozen pieces across the rooftop.

That actually did feel pretty damn good. She laughed, really laughed, letting out a loud holler of a cheer for herself. Offered the stick to Morgan and reached for the bottle. “You’ve gotta try this.”

It took Morgan a while to put the pieces together. Bourbon, made sense. Field hockey stick, ugly china? Less so. But, “Uuh...okay, sure!” Outside, the world was full of stars and the sweet glow of light pollution from the common, like a candle had been struck and nestled under invisible glass. It was so picturesque, like a Hallmark Card. You wouldn’t guess how many people died or lost their lives and souls. You wouldn’t guess just how thoroughly you could be buried under the worst bullshit. Morgan came out of her thoughts just in time to see Erin taking the china and swinging it to pieces. “Ho-ly shit!” Morgan gaped. This wasn’t quite either of the avenues she’d thought of, but she’d be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t fantasized about playing another round of ‘zombie smash’ in the middle of her un-life crisis. And Erin’s smile was bigger than Morgan had seen it in a long time. She held out a finger for pause. “Oh, dollface, you gotta see this first,” she said, laughing with pride. She took one of the fragile teacups, held it up as if for a magic demonstration, and crushed it between her hands. “Now you see it, now you--don’t!” She laughed again, pleased with herself, then took the field hockey stick from Erin. “I don’t know why I’m surprised you were a jock butch in school,” she said, twirling it like a baton. “Crazy to think we thought a little lunchroom drama was the end of the world, huh?” She tried to repeat Erin’s move of tossing the dish into the air and hitting it to pieces, but the plate fell to the floor before she could take a swing. “I was more of an academic decathlon kind of kid,” she winced. Nerds, at least back in their day, were not especially known for their coordination. She took another, set it on the floor. “But what about...this!” She gave it a good thwack across the roof, cheering for herself when it shattered on one of the pipes. “Fuck everythiiiiing!” She cupped her hands like a sports announcer calling a goal or a point or whatever the hell it was. Another swing, another crash. “Let’s go team!”

“Oh, okay. Now you’re just showing off.” Erin cocked her head and laughed harder, watching the teacup practically disintegrate in her fingers. “That’s goth-butch-jock, thank you very much,” she corrected. God. It was even wilder to think that everything she was experiencing--the supernatural half of it, at least--was going on around her even back then. Weird things happened in White Crest, that had always been known. But there was no way she could have known what those weird things were or that she was living smack dab in the middle of it all. How she had survived this long unawares truly had been a wonder. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You’ve got some pretty strong nerd vibes,” she laughed, clapping and cheering along when she smashed the next piece. Laughter and the sound of shattering, destruction and joy existing hand in hand, filling the night air. She grabbed another cup, running her fingers along the smooth china. Broken things could still be good. “You’re more capable than you give yourself credit for though, you know.” Erin motioned for Morgan to get ready again, positioning herself at an angle where the blast radius wouldn’t nail her in the forehead. “Alright, you’ve got this, Morgan. Just don’t take your eyes off the prize.” When Morgan was ready, she started counting slowly. “1… 2… 3!”

[howardpotts]

four: buy your pretty heart

Love on the Brain - Masterlist in links

Pairing: MobBoss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and violence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer?

Chapter warning: Uhmm none, i think. 

A/N: I haven’t uploaded in a while, but I had some unplanned hiatus. It’s just that a lot has happened privately that made me lose interest in anything. I hope this chapter is any good, since it’s been written in small pieces in the last 3 months. 

Let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 

You thought you were going to spend your entire day daydreaming about the night before, instead you were thinking over and over about what has happened.

Even when Wanda was gushing to you about that girl and how they spent the entire night dancing, kissing, talking - you had a hard time to keep your thoughts away and your focus on her.  She looked tired, just as you. Big bags under her eyes, hair was a little bit more fussy than normal. You tried to cover your tiredness with makeup, which was pretty well done in your opinion. 

You were grateful it was friday, meaning that you could focus on other stuff on the weekend. Take your mind of whatever happened today, trying to suppress it til monday; when Steve is going to take you out on dinner and, well, probably fuck you senseless after. 

“Lets go shopping after school”, Wanda stated. She had a date on sunday and she knew that you were going to meet with Steve on monday. You told her about yesterday night, but you didn’t dare to tell her what happened this morning. You didn’t want to get her in any kind of trouble.

“Wan, you’re a genius”, you admitted, smirking to her. She claps her hands in excitement, her golden bracelets sounding like bells, making her look even more enthusiastic. 

You slumbed out of your class, eyes a little foggy from all the staring to the screen in front of you. The teacher had you noting everything he said on your computer. It couldn’t get any more boring than it already was - and that on a friday afternoon.

“What kind of dress are you looking for?”, you asked Wanda, trying to shake away the boring class. She hooked her arm into yours as you walked through the busy hallways of the school. You both didn’t care to look who was walking around, you just wanted to get out of here and into the city, focussing on way more exciting things.

“I think something laced. Black, maybe? Or would that be a bit too tame?”, she asks you.

“Depends on the dress”, you respond. “A little bit of lace, a shape that makes your figure look like candy and it can serve you well.”

The fresh air gives you new energy when you step outside. It’s pretty cold outside, but for February, it’s actually quite nice. 

A call of your name has you looking around. Some guy approaches you. Brown hair, little bit ruffled. You have never seen him in your life. “Steve sent me. He wanted me to give you this.”

A big grin on Wanda’s face, and you fake one too. It isn’t that you don’t like Steve, but at this moment you were a little bit terrified of what could be in the package. You want to , thank the guy, but he’s already walking down the stairs, acting like he never spoke to you.

“Open it, open it!”, Wanda squeals enthusiastically. 

Your heart could jump out of your chest when your hand moves to open the package. 

There’s a little note on top of it, almost flying out of the box as the wind waves lightly in the box. You grab it quickly and turn it around. 

Wear this and nothing else. 

Wanda giggles, you blush. A little paper still hides what exactly is in the box but Wanda’s patience is wearing thin and she gets rid of it as quickly as you can blink.

There’s a black jacket in it. On the inside a label saying ‘BALMAIN’.. Wait, that’s designer right? That’s a pretty well known brand. Not that you expected Steve to get you some cheap stuff, but designer? Did he really put that much money into you or did he send this to every other girl, asking it back after wearing it once? Ew, no, he didn’t do that. That’s disgusting.

“BALMAIN?”, Wanda gasps. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Where the hell did you find this guy- Don’t answer that.” 

“That’s pretty expensive, right?”, you ask. Her eyes turn big as she watches you.

“Yes, that’s fucking expensive”, she calls, still impressed by the gift in your hands. “And we’re not talking hundreds here, darling. We’re talking thousands. Two, maybe three.”

“Thousand?”

“Thousand!” She throws her hands in the air to give the words even more of a drama effect. 

You don’t know what to say. Or do. It’s kind of overwhelming, to be honest. You’ve met the guy not even 24 hours ago, and he already gave you the responsibility to decide a man's fate and now he gave you a jacket worth thousands. You have to admit that it creeps you out. Alarm bells are going off, warning you to cut him out of your life and find a good man. One that will swoon your parents and will probably be better for you than he’ll ever be. 

But you’re flattered at the same time. Why would someone like him - a man with charm, looks, grace, money and a lot of female attention - invest money in someone like you? You’re not special in any way. You’re as average as can be. You’re a communications student, living in some apartment with two other roommates because you can’t afford to rent one for your own. You have some kind of barista job in the weekends, trying to earn enough to pay for your rent, food and some fun activities. 

“Maybe we should drop this first”, you suggest, looking at the box in your hands. 

As you walk, Wanda starts talking about her night. “She was amazing”, she sighs. “I walked up to her and straight up told her how beautiful she looked. Later on she told me she liked that directness, that no one ever does that to her.”

You’re so happy for Wanda. She’s been crushing on this girl for a few weeks now, but never acted on it. Apparently everyone thought that the girl was pretty intimidating.

“Wait, what was her name again?”, you ask, interrupting her story.

“Maria”, she answers quickly before picking up her story again. “Anyway, we started dancing, but I wasn’t sure if she was into women. So I kept my distance, and so did she, so I got more and more insecure. I looked over at you and saw you chatting with some guy. When I looked back, I saw her checking me out. And I’m not talking about girl-ready-to-bitch kind of checking, but the lesbian kind of checking.”

You chuckle. Her stories were always this over the place - but it was fun to listen to. She always knew how to keep you interested, waiting eagerly on how the story is going to end. 

“So that kind of felt like my que. Wow, I say a lot of ‘kind of’, don’t I? Anyway, I moved a bit closer, gave her my famous flirty eyes.”

You walk over a crosswalk and turn right after, only two streets away from your apartment.

“Did you kiss?”, you ask, not being able to wait anymore. You need to know.

“Oh honey, we didn’t just kiss. We made out, we did the dirty, we went down town, we-” 

“Yeah, okay, I get it”, you laugh. She chuckles and pushes you lightly when you fake roll your eyes. 

“Will you see her again?” Her eyes glow up after you ask that question. She nods furiously as she grabs her phone, showing you a few messages. Excitedly, you squeal lightly. 

“Thank you a thousand times for joining me last night”, she sighed as she hooked her arm in yours once again. A content feeling settles in you as you walk further. A few seconds of silence between the two of you. Cars pass by, people sometimes almost bump in to you as you walk further down the street. 

“And your night had to be pretty exciting as well, right?”, Wanda breaks the silence, wiggling her eyebrows. You nod, a little smirk on your lips. 

“God, it was good”, you sigh. You tell your story shortly but swiftly, letting details pass and not mentioning what happened the morning after. 

“And more than a one night stand?”, she asks you as you stand in front of your apartment door. You give her a quick look before focussing on letting yourself in. 

“I’m not sure”, you say. “I think we just want to booty call each other. And apparently giving me gifts.”

You let yourself in your room and drop the box on your bed. Again you open it, this time taking the jacket out. It turns out to be longer than you thought. He was quite serious about not wearing anything else. The jacket is long enough for you to cover up everything you want to hide from the public. But it also shows enough to seduce him. And he knows that.

“Can you please stay another hour?” Your manager, Sarah, looks at you with her big puppy eyes. “Pretty, pretty please?”

A little smirk is on your face as you roll your eyes. “What would you do without me?”, you say as you put on the brown apron again, after taking it off just a minute ago. 

“I would be homeless and a failure. Thank you a thousand times!”, she cheers as she grabs your shoulder to give it a little squish. You smile and walk back into the little cosy cafe. It was pretty crowded, with a little line of five people waiting outside to get a free table. 

Slowly you check your half of the cafe, the front half. Your colleague, Brent, watches over the other half and Sarah is behind the bar making the best coffee of the city. She owns the cafe and made it a big success, promoting her selfmade cookies and waffles as her original trademark. And it works. Whenever it isn’t busy, you make small talk with the customers and they always tell you that they’ve heard from someone else that they had to try one of her delicious cookies. 

A man puts his hand in the air, making a little gesture to come over. You put on your smile and walk over. “How can I help you?”

“Why don’t you start by giving your number?”, he smirks. “And a cappuccino.”

Your hand balls into a fist, nails digging into your flesh as you watch his smug face. He watches you. Not even your face, but your body. He checks you out. 

“Sorry sir, we’re not allowed to give out personal information to our customers”, Brent hops in from behind you. You turn your back to the customer and mouth a little ‘thank you’ to him. 

You walk towards Sarah and ask her for the cappuccino the guy asked for. As much as you’d like to not serve him his coffee, you still had to be customer-friendly. 

“Why don’t we switch sides ‘til the d-bag over there leaves this place?”, Brent asks when he stands beside you before focussing on Sarah. “Oh and a latte plus a chocolate chip cookie for table fifteen.”

You nod, a little smile appearing on your face. You couldn’t be happier with your colleagues and your boss, they were all so attentive and supportive to each other. There was this atmosphere that made you enjoy the work you were doing. You’ve worked at other places where the ambience was a little bit different. 

The cappuccino appears on the counter, not a second later it’s in Brents hands and he walks towards the guy. It wasn’t the first time someone asked for your number - and you wouldn’t be annoyed if he asked about it nicely. But the arrogance on his face and his eyes on your boobs did not make a good first impression. 

“And the latte, cookie’s coming right up”, Sarah sighs as she put down the latte. You give her a quick smile. She grabs a small white plate and puts a napkin on it first before grabbing the wobbly cookie. 

See, the thing about Sarah’s cookies was that it wasn’t just your ordinary round cookie. It was a bit thicker, but still moist from the inside. It was a little bit warm, the chocolate was on the edge of melting, and the sugar wasn’t as overwhelming as most are. The moment you had your first cookie, you fell in love. You actually had to watch yourself to not overeat, restraining yourself to one cookie a week. 

As you walk to table fifteen, you take a quick look at it already. Just swiftly taking in the customer to decide what kind of small talk you can make. Most of the time you could see it in a splitsecond; some were here just to work, some were here for some social acts, and with some you had to guess.

But this one had you by surprise. He made your breath stuck in your throat. How in the living hell did he end up here? Did he stalk you?

“One latte and a chocolate chip”, you say nervously. With a little shake, you put down the latte. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

His blue eyes meet yours, making you hot all over. You’re not sure if it’s because of the nerves, because of the things he made you feel or because of the morning you’ve witnessed at his place. 

“It’s my regular. I didn’t expect you’d work here”, he countered. You give him a little smirk as you also put down the cookie. “Did Paul give you the package?”

“Yes, he did.” You didn’t know what else to say. To say it’s beautiful? That you like it? That you’ll wear it? That’d be cheesy.

“Good. I hope to see you in it tomorrow”, he smirks as he takes a sip from his latte.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t”, you tease as you turn around, moving your hips a little bit more as you walk to your next customer.

Tags: (OPEN)

@mcueveryday​ @mschellehitt​ @thamuddagirl​ @buckysthot​ @what-if-i-am-weird​ @myspectacularfantasies​ @ornella0910​ @steeeeverogers​ @babygirl-htx​ @estillion14​ @my-super-musical-life​ @tranquil--heart​ @golddaggers​ @swanlakemikey​ @notyourtypicalrose​

[fytheuntamed]

Do you have any thoughts on why the novel might be so popular among lgbt people despite (sometimes quite obviously) being written by a straight women for straight women. I think this is quite evident in for example the sex scenes

Why do I think the novel is so popular amongst LGBTQ+ people despite being written by a straight woman for straight women? Simple! It’s a good story and the characters are complex and intriguing. No piece of media is ever perfect, so it simply comes down to whether an individual feels the positive aspects of the media outweigh the negative aspects of the media. Are there problematic aspects within the novel? Of course! But that doesn’t mean the novel as a whole should be disregarded. You can consume media while still being critical of it, just like you can like a character while acknowledging that they’re not a good person. LGBTQ+ people, like everyone else, value a good story and interesting characters, so even if there are aspects of the story that we dislike, we may still stick around if we think it’s worth it! Also, I think there’s a shortage of stories like “Mo Dao Zu Shi” where you have LGBTQ+ characters whose sexuality isn’t the focus of the story. Yes, Wangxian are soulmates and very much in love, but that isn’t the whole point. You have a delightful bundle of politics, magic, familial ties, concepts of right and wrong, mystery, etc etc that also features a beautiful love story between two men. I guess my point is, LGBTQ+ people are flawed just like everyone else and sometimes we consume content even if we don’t agree with every part of it.

I’ve avoided getting involved in any discourse surrounding the various versions of MDZS because I wanted to keep this blog drama free, however I would like to take this chance to offer my own thoughts on the “problematic” aspects of the novel. Before I get into it, I just want to make three things clear: 1) I’m white, 2) I’m not mlm, I’m a lesbian, and 3) I’ve only read the second half of the novel and honestly I can’t remember too much of the specifics. The relevance of my opinion on the matter, therefore, is limited and my words should be read with this fact in mind. I would love to hear everyone’s thoughts and feelings on this matter, so do feel free to either leave a comment or reblog and add your two-cents. All I ask is that we keep it respectful so this can continue to be an enjoyable space for all fans.

I’ve been going through the untamed’s tumblr tag daily since the start of this blog in August 2019, so I’ve seen the whole spectrum of opinions on this matter. Some people feel very strongly that some of the ways in which MXTX writes particular aspects of the novel are “problematic,” some people are indifferent, and others feel that criticism of MXTX’s writing comes from a lack of knowledge of Chinese culture (particularly LGBTQ+ Chinese culture). (I remember seeing a post touching upon this last matter, but I didn’t save it, so unfortunately I can’t link it.)

I think the two most common criticisms of the novel that I have come across pertain to matters of consent and the imposing of heteronormative concepts onto Wangxian. Again, I want to stress that I haven’t read the novel in its entirety and my memory of it is foggy. Talking about consent first, some felt the scene in the novel where LWJ kisses an unexpecting blindfolded WWX was a big no no, while others thought it was a very sweet, romantic scene. (To give context for those who have only seen the drama, this scene would have been placed in episode 25 had they included it). For this matter, I’m of the belief that consent is a must. Regardless of whether WWX enjoyed the kiss, the fact stands that no one is entitled to another’s body, and this is why consent is, in my eyes, non-negotiable. For those who have no problem with this scene, I do think it is worth considering how you would feel about this scene had it involved, say, Jin Zixuan kissing a blindfolded Jiang Yanli. If that had been the case, I do think the majority of readers would have found the scene in poor taste (I could be wrong, though!). I will say that the trope of the forceful kiss is extremely common and can be found in every genre; it’s definitely not restricted to LGBTQ+ couples. For the aforementioned reason, I don’t like the forceful kiss scenario irregardless of the genders of the people involved. I do think writing such scenes for LGBTQ+ couples in particular can perpetuate harmful stereotypes, particularly that LGBTQ+ people have no respect for personal boundaries and can’t control their physical desires. I think the situation is doubly bad if the person who is being kissed is “not yet gay,” because again, it perpetuates the idea of the big bad gay person and the innocent “straight” person who is at the whims of said big bad gay.

Moving on to WWX and LWJ’s sex life, I have seen multiple people in the tag mentioning WWX having a “rape kink” and their discomfort with this fact. Logically, I understand that we are all allowed, as human beings with different tastes and preferences, to enjoy the things that bring us pleasure (excluding certain obvious things). That being said, I do not personally enjoy rape fantasies in my media and try to stay far away from it. As I mentioned, we are all welcome to our own tastes and preferences, but I do think it is important that we realize that we are all also the product of our environments. Things, including kinks, do not exist in vacuums, and therefore they must arise as a result of some mixture of external and internal forces. Does MXTX giving WWX a rape kink automatically make her demon spawn? Not really. Does MXTX giving WWX a rape kink add anything to his character or the story? Also not really. All this being said, I do think LGBTQ+ media is oversaturated with consent issues and I’d personally like to see this come to an end, because once again, it perpetuates harmful stereotypes that do have a real impact on LGBTQ+ individuals.

As for the imposing of heteronormative concepts onto Wangxian, I think the biggest complaint I’ve seen is about WWX being referred to as the “mom” or the “wife” within the Wangxian couple. I would like to state here that this may be a situation in which cultural differences come into play. Additionally, because the novel is not originally written in English, it may be a case of telephone in which the true meaning becomes distorted as it is translated from one language to another and then to another and so on and so forth. Therefore, I am going to proceed with my thoughts on the matter in a more generalized way. For me, this is a big pet peeve of mine, to the point where I will not reblog content that refers to any of the male characters as “mom” or “wife.” My reasoning is simple: WWX is a man, so he would be someone’s “dad” or “husband,” not their “mom” or “wife.” I know from first-hand experience that non-LGBTQ+ people will often try to place a gay couple within a heterosexual context to make it easier for them to process how two women or two men could be together. I understand the reasoning behind this way of thinking, but that does not mean this way of thinking should be encouraged. It’s bad enough that non-LGBTQ+ couples are ensnared in an endless maze of gendered ways of being and thinking - let’s not force that on LGBTQ+ couples as well. My other issue is that the words “mom” and “wife” not only have gendered connotations, but they have implicit sexual connotations as well. In this context, “mom” and “wife” are just another way of saying “bottom.” Just think about it; nobody’s out there calling LWJ “mom” or “wife.” The whole idea of “top” and “bottom” in gay media is so……..it’s almost like an obsession? And for those of you who may be thinking it’s not that deep and has no bearing on real life….I really wish that were true. Go look at the comments section of any gay couple’s youtube video and you will invariably find someone asking who is the top and who is the bottom. That’s invasive as fuck, y’all, and you don’t see that shit on straight couple’s videos (again, because the assumption is that women are always in the submissive, therefore there’s no need to ask because it’s assumed the answer will always be that the woman “bottoms” and the man “tops”). All this being said, I can only speak about this matter from my viewpoint as a lesbian. If one day I were to get married, I wouldn’t want people referring to my wife as my “husband,” because the whole point is that we’re both the wife! I know there isn’t one rule/mindset that applies to all gay people, so I would love to hear others’ feelings on this matter.

Finally, I would also like to briefly touch upon Mo Xuanyu, who we don’t really get to see in the drama. I don’t know whether LWJ or WWX ever explicitly state their sexualities or which gender(s) they’re attracted to, but I’m pretty sure Mo Xuanyu is explicitly stated to be strictly into men (please correct me if I’m wrong!). I do wonder what MXTX’s intentions were (if there were any) when she decided to make Mo Xuanyu gay, because what I’ve grasped of his characterization is that he is written similarly to other gay male characters that give the impression they were created by checking off a list of every popular stereotype about gay men. I guess I’m just curious, as someone who knows very little about Mo Xuanyu, how others felt about his character in terms of complexity and stereotypes.

If you took the time to read all this, thank you! Let me know your thoughts~

[the-woundupbird]

Hello Dracula Recap 1/4

Okay I will try to organize all my translations and thoughts about the drama into this post so that I can stop info-dumping on my poor friend who has kindly let me go on and on about the show. I’ll post some links to videos so you can watch and understand as I go on with my review/thought dump. 

Essentially it’s three different stories nested into one but the central story is about Anna, an elementary school teacher who has been hiding her 8 year relationship with her girlfriend Sojung from her mother.  The relationship between Anna and her mother is the central source of conflict in the show, more so then the emotional fallout that happens when Sojung breaks up with Anna.

Personally I think the show had if not at least a lesbian writer than some queer women in charge of shaping the show.  People were saying on twitter that it felt too real, almost like a documentary of the painful reality for so many closeted women in South Korea.  To be honest, even as a Korean American I saw so much of my mother and my own relationship with her with regards to my sexuality in the exchanges Anna had with her mother.  

The show begins with Anna and her mother, shaping the major relationship with the show.  Her mother teases her that her face looks bloated and that men care about women’s skin.  Anna straightforwardly says she doesn’t like men and her mother tries to laugh it off but there’s a heaviness to the exchange that is examined later.

In the next scene Anna is at school working as an elementary school teacher.  During break she keeps checking her phone, even contemplating texting the recipient, “Are you busy?”  I was able to pause the show and read some of the earlier messages Anna had sent this person who is revealed to be her girlfriend Sojung and yikes:

Ah… Food? 

You ate and you’re working, right?

 It seems like you’re sleeping. 

Good night.

Busy? I saw you didn’t respond so I’m worried are you sick?

 Okay, I understand. Did you get home? You must be so tired. Get some rest. Sleep well. Did you sleep well?

Anna is stressed because her girlfriend is blowing her off pretty blatantly.  As someone who’s dated in Korea it’s mandatory to be texting every day and even do a phone call.  The level of hands off-ness is a cause for major concern from Anna.  Especially with her girlfriend of 8 years.

When Anna goes to a dinner with her co-workers from school she finally gets a text from Sojung: I have something to tell you.

Anna picks up the phone in an instant and zooms out of the room, ignoring the guy across from her who I totally think was flirting. 

The conversation with Sojung is painful in that it is so evident that Sojung is pulling away and Anna is holding on. 

“It’s me.”

It’s noisy.  Are you outside?

“Yeah I’m at a company dinner.”

Let’s talk later, then.

“No now is fine… I feel like lately I’m the only one chasing after you… I’m the only one trying to hear your voice.”

Did you drink a lot?

“What? No I didn’t drink.”

We said we were gonna meet on Saturday, right? I don’t think I can meet.  Sorry. 

“We haven’t met in almost a month.”

I’m sorry. 

“Why? Why can’t you?”

I’m doing a blind date. My mom is making me.

“With a guy?”

Of course.  With a guy.

“You’re not even gonna lie?”

Anna-ya. I don’t want to hide anymore. 

“Can’t you just lie?”

Let’s talk again tomorrow.

“Sojung-ah!”

Talk to you tomorrow.

And then Anna runs off to chase after her girl, even going to her girlfriend’s house. Quick comment her girlfriend definitely seems well-off.  It sort of makes me wonder how the two of them met.  One person on twitter was musing that maybe instead of being a cc or college couple they met through volunteering and fell in love that way.  Regardless the contrast from an apartment to a house intrigues me because there’s definitely a difference in socio-economic class here.  But I digress.

Anna grabs her phone, after hesitating to rush into Sojung’s house. 

I’m outside your house.  Come down for a sec.

Let’s talk when you’ve calmed down.

Also my parents are home right now.

It can be just for a little.  

Just show me your face.

But Sojung refuses and you have the image of Anna trudging back home.  She sees her mother hugging some man and even though she calls her mother, her call is put on silent and she storms off to go sob at the bus station in frustration.  I want to focus more on Anna but it’s important to note here that her mother sort of chases after men a lot but can’t seem to settle down which is a point of stress for Anna. 

Growing up, Anna struggled to pretend to be happy for her mother meeting new guys and feeling sort of neglected as a result.  All the while Anna puts on a brave face for her mom’s happiness because when she was little Anna’s mother had held her close and whispered “I don’t need anything but Anna. You’re the most precious thing to me.”  The loving words were both a deep compliment but also an unbearable weight on Anna.  It was something that she felt like she had to live by.

This burden only gets worse when Anna was in middle school and was caught presumably kissing or hooking up with her girl friend and got dragged by her gf’s mother to a Catholic church to repent.  

When Anna’s mother is able to pull her out of the church she tells her about how when she was young she also was super obsessed with a girl and she even wrote her letters and followed her around.  “It’ll pass,” she tells Anna. “You’re just young.  Remember when you liked that guy next door? You said you wanted to marry him! So that’s why I’m not even a little worried.”

“But what if it doesn’t pass? What if I stay like this forever?” Anna whispers, staring right at her mother. 

And a world of painful silence is Anna’s answer as her mother just walks away from the question, attempting to forget that the encounter ever happened.  

It flashes forward to high school Anna just watching her mother find a new man and she begins down a journey of hiding her true self to keep things safe for her mother. 

But then things come to a head when Sojung sends Anna a text to break off their relationship:

Actually I’ve been going through a lot lately. Our relationship isn’t like what it used to be. Anna-ya, I don’t want to hurt my parents.  I can’t win.  I can’t throw it away. Let’s end it like this. Thanks for everything. I’ll send your things to you through the mail. It’d be good if you did that too.

Ignoring how that’s probably the coldest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the history of breakups, Anna wonders to herself, will I be okay like this? Later on in episode 2 I think I understand better why Sojung did this but I’ll share my thoughts on the second ep review.

Anna comes home after that devastating day of having her girlfriend of 8 YEARS break up with her to her mother misunderstanding Anna as being upset with her, setting up a ton of Christmas decorations. 

“It’s nice right? My kind daughter, what’s wrong? I don’t like when you’re like this.”

“It’s pretty.” (Yikes at Anna pretending like she isn’t absolutely gutted for the benefit of her mother as per usual in the dynamic)

“I’m going to head in.”

“Are you still mad? You should tell your mom.”

“I’m going to head in.”

“You ah, you were like this when you were little. You were always sulking after it’d all passed.”

“Mom.”

“Isn’t it better to just say it right away and let it all out?”

“Mom.”

“I did this all for you to see! You said you wanted a tree when you were little.”

“Mom, when I was little, when? When I was little, when? And what passed? Nothing’s changed!”

“What didn’t pass?”

… “Christmas didn’t pass.  I’m so tired today.” 

And Anna closes the door and leaves her mother to stare at a picture of her and her daughter together under a Christmas tree.  Personally here I adore the dynamic of Anna just almost barely teasing at the secret the two of them know, her sexuality. But her mother doesn’t quite push her because she’s a little afraid to know.  I’ve had a similar conversation with my own mother and that line between ambiguous and crystal clear is so much harder to parse out than people think.

Anyway I’ll continue this if you guys want but hopefully you like the translation and commentary. Let me know in the replies or my messages if you’d like me to just do straight translation with the clips or continue this style!

[omgdramaticperson00]

Miraculous Rewrite - Detailing & Changes P.1

Main Cast -

Marinette: Marri is still a main character and generally stays similar to canon but home girl is losing those stalker tendencies (Like let's be honest she was creepy at times). I've also decided she won't have a crush on Adrian at least not for the first half of the season mainly to give some other characters some time to shine and also have her have actual conversations with him.

Adrien: (Oh my clueless boy) Adrien is going to be way more shy but eventually will learn to loosen up. I think the death or...lack of his mother should really affect him so that's why he’s going to be way more quiet and shy. I want to give him an arc where he begins to realize his father’s toxic behavior and gas-lighting of him. I'm also giving him a backbone so he’s more willing to stand up to people like Lila when she does some shady shit.

Alya: IM CHANGING NOTHING! SHE’S PERFECT -v-. Okay maybe a couple of details but i'm not sure just yet.

Lie-la: I'm thinking the whole Volpina plot needed work but overall i liked it so for miss Lila i'm going to combine that with the queen bee turns evil plot. Why? You may ask...FOR THE DRAMA, and also because it would be very interesting to see Lila with a miracu - I've said too much *faints*. I'm also going to make Lila a part of Marinette's friend group so we can really see her fall from grace.

Chloe: Ms. Bourgeois over here is actually getting an arc and some character development. I was so upset when they finally gave Chloe a bit of redemption only to take it away. That was just awful. We're also going to make her more of a friend to marry then an enemy so while they're not on the best terms, eventually they’ll warm up to each other and become great friends. I'm aslo making Chloe a lesbian purely so she can date Sabrina (Hate if you want but i ship).

Nino: Nino is kinda in the same place as Alya i'm just not sure what i'll do with him just yet.

Villains & Antagonists -

Gabriel: Gabriel will basically play the same role as he does in canon but he will constantly verbally abuse Adrien and gaslight him into doing everything Gabriel wants. I'm thinking he’ll be like this even before Emilie die’s or...goes into a coma?

Adriana Rossi (Lila’s Mom): ( secret for now)

Plot -

For season one the main plot will revolve around Marinette and her friends as they fight akumatized villains, try to balance school and superhero hero life.

Side note - I'm writing this at 9pm and i'm feeling tired plus i have school in the morning so like.... Yeah. i will try to really go into detail on the plot in the next post. ill most likely post this in the morning.and her friends as they fight akumatized villains, try to balance school and superhero hero life.