#they’re a bit big on him and they smell like andrew and he LOVES it

[that-vampire-loser]

Andrew minyards closet is FULL. he’s the complete opposite of Neil, loves shopping, loves buying clothes (and buying neil clothes).

And what does neil do? Instead of wearing the clothes Andrew buys him, he just wears Andrew’s clothes

[aliceblisss]

Study partner | Peter Parker | 18+

You’re failing math and there’s no one else to turn to but your friendly neighbor Peter Parker. You recently started dating and haven’t gotten past second base. It’s safe to say there’s some sexual tension.

CW: soft dom!peter, fingering, oral (f receiving) (also kind of m receiving?), unprotected sex, cream pie, spanking, choking, teasing, peter acts like a cocky dick, pet names (sweets, big boy, pretty boy), praise, ruining kink

A/N: andrew’s peter is the hottest peter imo and I would love to study with him like the reader does in this fic ;) also sorry this is so long lol. Enjoy!

———————————————————

“How do you fail math?” Peter asked; very condescendingly might I add.

“We’re not all geniuses like you, Parker, some of us have pea brains”

He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around my waist, “Ohh no that’s not true. Your brain is at least the size of a grape”

That mother—

I try to pull away from him but he pulls me closer and kisses me; instantly melting away my irritation. He smells clean, like he took a shower just before school. I can taste and smell the coffee on his lips. I fall into his body like a puzzle piece that fits perfectly.

He breaks away and smiles at me all goofy. “I’ll help you study. After all it is important to help the less fortunate” he teases like we usually do. I give his arm a slap and he just laughs.

“Tonight, around 7-ish?” he suggests.

I nod, “My place; my mom is working late” I add not so subtly.

His eyes widen a bit but he tries to play it off, “Ok cool cool, sounds good”. I can’t help but smile at his nervousness.

Truth is I do need his help with math. But we’ve been dating for a few months now and we keep having all these moments where we get close to doing it but either we get interrupted or one of us gets too nervous. By now the tension we’ve built up is so palpable it’s killing me so I figured I’d cease the opportunity.

The bell rings. Before we part ways I give him a kiss on the cheek and lean into his ear and say, “See you tonight bug boy”.

~~~

Ok so now I’m nervous.

I’ve shaved…everywhere, cleaned, moisturized, perfumed, all of it. I just want tonight to be perfect. What if he didn’t catch the hint? He’s a genius but he can be a bit clueless sometimes.

I hear a knock at the door; it’s him.

“Heyyy” his greeting is elongated as he takes in my appearance. I’ve decided to wear a big t-shirt dress. It’s casual but I know it’s already driving him crazy.

“Hey study partner” I greet him with a smile and a quick peck, forcing him to look back up at me.

Once he’s inside I noticed he has a crumpled up brown paper bag. I ask him, “What’s in the bag?”

As if he had almost forgotten he goes, “Oh! These are for you, m’lady”. He pulls out a pack of strawberries; he knows they’re my favorite.

“Aww thanks baby. Lemme go wash them real quick” I say as I walk into the kitchen with an extra sway in my hips in an effort to catch his eye.

He immediately follows me into the kitchen. As I stand at the sink facing away from him I can feel him slowly making his way towards me. Finally I feel his warmth, his presence, right behind me. He slithers his arms around my waist and hugs me from behind.

He leans into my ear and speaks softly with a groggy voice, “You look real cute today, sweets” he burrows his head into my neck, “And you smell so good too”. He takes a bigger whiff and sways us as he hums in my ear, tickling my neck and making me laugh. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting turned on by it.

I turn myself around whilst still in his arms and throw my own arms over his shoulders and around his neck; we’re still swaying. He has hooded eyes and a sly smirk on his face; it’s his turned on face.

I smile, “Aren’t we gonna study? I need your help with calculus, teach”.

He giggles but it’s slow, almost like he’s drunk or sleepy. That classic goofy smile is plastered on his face. “Yeah sure. 2 + 2 = 4. First lesson done now let’s kiss”.

He goes in for a kiss but I push him away laughing, “Peterrr come ooon I really do need your help”.

As much as I wanna kiss him until I can’t breathe I really do need the tutoring and I wanna tease him a bit longer.

He grunts, “Ughh. Okay okay, let’s do math or whatever”.

“Let’s go up to my room” I say as I walk past him with my strawberries in hand.

“Oh you see when you say stuff like that—”

“To study!”

“Right”

~~~

We’re sitting on my bed, books and notebooks sprawled out. I sit cross legged, he’s laying on his side, looking up at me.

We review the concepts that I don’t understand and he walks me through the mathematical problems. He’s wearing his glasses and has gone into full blown genius mode. I have to remind him not to talk so fast because he gets enveloped in it and I get lost quickly.

But I love it. I love his brain and how adorable he looks when he’s explaining all this.

I decide to tease him though, as he’s talking I take one of the strawberries and take a bite in an unnecessarily sensual way. I make sure to put my lips around it and suck on it a bit to simulate…another activity, whilst making direct eye contact.

I take the first bite quickly, just to get his attention. Once I have it I take the next one very slowly.

“So position as a function of, um, t-time, it would, uhh” and just like that, from genius to incoherent in two seconds. He’s entranced, eyes fixed on my mouth, breathing a bit faster now.

“It would what?” I ask him, putting on my most innocent face.

He blinks a few times and clears his throat, “Sorry, heh, yeah it would equal…” he trails off as he watches me take the last bite.

I snap my fingers in his face, “Peter!”

“Wha-what?” He raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes, biting his whole lip.

I chuckle, “You okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah I’m good. You’re just so pretty” he says in an attempt to save his ass. It charmed me nonetheless.

We continued with our work, I decided to not tease him too much. But it seems he had other plans. I started to notice a pattern every time I’d get an answer right.

He would give me subtle praise. Like “That’s amazing, keep doing that”, “You’re doing so good baby”, or “Correct, good girl”. And with each praise I felt myself get wetter. He knows what he’s doing, that sly son of a bitch.

So I pull out my next card.

I accidentally drop my pencil on the floor. So I get up from the bed and bend over to pick it up. Even though the t-shirt dress covers me fairly well, it won’t keep my ass from peaking out when bending over. Incredibly cliché I know, but based on his rosy cheeks and that lustful look in his eyes that I see once I turn around, I’d say it worked.

I sit back down and pretend to be concentrated on the work. Meanwhile I can almost hear Peter’s gears turning inside that beautiful head of his. He’s silent. Suddenly he sits up and closes all the books and drops them on the floor, leaving me with just the notebook in front of me.

“What are you—”

“Pop quiz time”

He moves over to sit behind me. I’m visibly confused so he explains, “I’m gonna give you the problems, you gotta answer,” he leans in my ear and whispers, “but you and I both know you can do it. So how about—” he pushes my hair to the side to expose my neck “—we make this a bit more interesting?”

His voice is low and raspy, his warm breath tickles my neck, his left hand keeps caressing my hair, grazing my skin, his right hand slowly moves over my waist.

“Sounds good”

My voice is small and frail, my breath quickens, my right hand grips onto the pencil, my left hand onto my bedsheets.

He lingers around my ear and neck, the near touch driving me crazy, “First question sweets,” he softly rakes his fingers up and down my arms, “There are 47 boys in the class. This is three more than four times the number of girls. How many girls are there in the class?” It should be illegal to make mathematical word problems sound this sexy.

I begin to write down the process, trying my hardest to concentrate, meanwhile his hands keep moving slowly over my body; caressing my waist and thighs.

I get the answer fairly quickly. “You got it?” he asks, I nod.

“Mhm”

“What is it?” he then kissed my earlobe, and it felt like my system rebooted. My eyes rolled back and I suddenly forgot how to speak.

“Well?” I can’t see it but I know he’s wearing a cocky grin.

“Eleven” it comes out breathier than intended.

“Very good. Next question” he pulled the neckline of my shirt over my shoulder and gently kissed the exposed skin. A whimper nearly escaped my lips.

“What’s the square root of 144 baby?” the way he slipped in the pet name made me weak. Nonetheless I get to work doing the math and one of his hands has found its way under my shirt. He’s lightly running his fingertips over my stomach, making me shudder.

Meanwhile his other hand keeps my shoulder exposed and he gives me a few more kisses here and there. I’m not making much progress, I’ve almost completely lost the capacity to do simple math.

The hand that’s under my shirt keeps moving up until…

I feel him smile against my shoulder, “No bra huh?” he couldn’t help but break character and geek out a little bit. I smile proudly, “Twelve”.

“What?” he’s distracted by the fact that the only thing separating my body from his are my panties and a loose shirt.

“The answer’s twelve bug boy”

“Good girl” he growls just before starting to attack my neck with wet kisses. I throw my head back, I can’t help it anymore; I give in. I move my hand to his hair and pull on it moaning out, “Oh, Peter”.

He pinches my nipple with one hand while the other keeps getting dangerously close to my aching core; his hand is right on top of it but he stops. Everything stops. He asks, “What’s the square root of 121,456?”

I grunt, “Peter!”

“I never said the quiz was over sweets” he said smugly.

I quickly start to write and try to do the math, he starts to kiss my neck again.

“You’re a dick you know that?”

“Really?

“Yes. What do you want me to do? Beg?”

“I mean that would be nice”

“In your drea—” I’m cut off by the feeling of his hand cupping my folds over my panties again.

“You sure you don’t wanna beg? What I’m feeling says otherwise” he whispers in my ear.

“I hate you” I hiss.

“Answer the question, or beg, sweetheart” he taunted.

I sighed, he gently moved his hand, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Fine” I grunted.

“Tell me what you want”

“Peter…”

“Yes darlin’?” he nuzzled into my neck.

“I want you”

“What do you want from me?” he kisses and licks my neck. A small moan escapes my lips; he’s turning me into mush I can’t take it anymore.

“I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me”

He turns us around so that I’m under him, tossing my notebook on the floor. He smiles at me and says, “Shit finally” breaking character once more. I quickly take off his glasses and set them on the night stand.

I smile at him before pulling him down by his shirt and crashing my lips with his. I pull the rest of him down by wrapping my legs around him. The kisses are fast and sloppy, messy and lazy. We’re more concerned with eliminating any possible space between us.

But he creates space again, only to move his hand down to my core. He begins rubbing my clit through my panties and I can’t hold myself back anymore, I moan louder than before into his mouth.

“That feel good baby?” he says into my ear.

I nod. He shakes his head, “Words y/n, or is your pretty little head burnt out from the math?”.

He’s being a dick but what I hate about it most is that it turns me on even more. “Yes, so good” I whisper in between heavy breaths. He then moves his hand under my underwear and nothing feels more right than his hands on my bare pussy.

He chuckles lowly, “You’re so wet for me. I can’t wait to taste you” he says, which causes me to groan in pleasure. I don’t know where this side of him came from but every word he says ruins me further.

“Then do it” I whine. My head is foggy and my core is aching for him.

And so he gives me one last smile and moves down my body. He removes my underwear and lifts and spreads my legs. He’s taking it in for a moment. I was about to get insecure but then I saw his face, his eyes; pure adoration.

Peter begins kissing down my thighs. He then licks all around my labia, avoiding where I need him the most. I start to grow impatient, buckling my hips in desperation. Desperation for him. A fact I cannot hide anymore.

He puts his arm over my hips to hold them down in place. “Be a good girl and stay still for me”.

Then, a singular lick on my clit, making my body jolt. He does it again, my body jolts again accompanied by a lewd moan. He does it again two more times and I catch a glimpse of him watching me, how my body reacts, with a devilish smile.

“You enjoying that?” I taunt.

“Yes, we both are” his smile widens to a grin.

I put my hand on his head and say, “No more teasing bug boy”.

“No promises” he says before giving me what I want. He goes down on my like there’s no tomorrow, making me go wild. He switches between fast light strokes and long deep ones. I throw both hands into his hair and pull, hard. It earns me a moan from him; a beautiful erotic sound.

“You sound so sexy when you moan baby” I confess and he gives me another moan in response.

Waves of pleasure keep washing over me. I won’t last much longer. And that’s when he inserts one finger inside me. My moans keep getting louder and he keeps getting hungrier. I’m almost over the edge when he adds another finger and in about three seconds I come undone.

I exclaim his name, my body shakes and convulses, meanwhile he’s not stopping until I’ve ridden out my orgasm completely.

Once I have we both stop to catch our breath for a moment. I look down to see his face, his cheeks are flushed, his lips plump and bright pink, with traces of me on them. He’s so beautiful like this.

He moves up my body and kisses me deeply. But I don’t waste time; I flip us over and start moving down to repay him. I wanna hear more of those sweet moans of his.

But he stops me. “Wait wait, please, I just wanna be inside you sweets” he pleas with a ruined look on his face.

“But I wanna make you feel good”

“You’ll make me feel good with your pretty cunt around my cock” he begins to make us switch positions again but I stop us and straddle his lap.

“What—”

“I’m gonna ride you”

A smile slowly grows on his face. I then help him take off his pants. Once they’re off his cock lands right in front of me. I press it against my abdomen and…damn…he’s big.

He’s not my first but he’s definitely my first like this.

He chuckles, “Having second thoughts?”

“No no, I’m just impressed is all” I say whilst softly stroking his cock. He blushes at my comment and his eyes flutter shut. His hands rest on my thighs.

His breathing quickens, I stroke him with both hands; one spreading his precum over his sensitive tip, this makes him groan.

“You…you sure you wanna d—do this?” He’s in pure bliss from the pleasure but he still takes a moment to make sure I’m okay.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of him under me. Eyes closed, pink lips parted, cheeks flushed, hair tussled; gone, ruined.

“Yes I’m sure pretty boy”

He opens his eyes slightly, “Do we need a—”

“I’m on the pill”

I stop stroking so I can position myself and he whimpers at the loss of my touch. I lower myself down bit by bit and wince, he grunts. He holds my hips and helps me. “Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, I kinda like it” I give him a smile, he grins.

Once he’s fully in we both moan in unison. I take a moment to get adjusted, meanwhile he removes the t-shirt that was still on me for some reason and gapes at the sight of me fully naked, on his cock.

He reaches out and massages my breast, I sigh in pleasure.

I start to move up and down, front to back, and we both start moaning, holding eye contact. His hands move down to grip my sides. I start to move faster as I watch his face contort so beautifully.

“You look so pretty riding my cock” he says. I simply moan in response. Next thing I know his hand has found my neck and he’s starting to move his hips up with me. My eyes roll back and I simply relish in this feeling. The moans get louder and the words get dirtier. My room is filled to the brim with sounds of skin slapping and moaning tangled up with cursing.

I look down to find he’s staring right at me. Eyes dark and lustful. Next thing I know he’s flipping us around and I’m on my stomach, and he’s fucking me.

He’s fucking me into the bed and moans turn into whimpers and cries of pleasure. I prop my ass up and he fondles it a bit before slapping it lightly.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out.

He slips a hand into my folds and begins to rub my clit. At this point tears are streaming down my face and the aching I feel, the need for release, is almost painful.

“I’m gonna—”

“No, not yet” he cuts me off. “I wanna cum with you baby”.

His thrusts are getting slower but harder and it’s making me lose my mind. “Peter it feels so good I—”

“You can. Be a good girl and wait for me” he spanks me again. It’s too much. He’s filling me up so good, hitting the right spot over and over again, rubbing my clit so well, and the sounds of his moans and whimpers are enough to drive me over the edge.

“You gonna cum with me?”

I nod, “Yes yes please”

“Cum”

And like the push of a button we both come undone and he moans out my name. Ecstasy. He’s officially become my drug.

We’re both out of breath but he turns me around and sits me up. He plants a kiss on my lips and says, “Clean me up sweets” with his cock in front of my face.

Is it possible to be turned on immediately after an orgasm? The answer is yes.

I happily take his cock in my mouth and start to suck him clean; he groans, eyes fixed on me. Once I’m done I look up at him. He says, “Damn, I love how you look with my cock in your mouth” holding up my chin.

I smile, “Should’ve taken me up on my offer then”

“Oh I’ll take you up on that”

We both laugh. I give him a kiss before getting up to use the bathroom. I come back to find him laying in my bed with his arms extended towards me. I hurry to the bed and he takes me in his arms.

“So, you gonna pass that math test next week?” he asks.

“You gonna punish me if I don’t?”

“I’ll punish you if you don’t, reward you if you do. Sound good?”.

[youranxiousnerd]

The Field Trip Thoughts

Because there is a lot of them

Spoilers for HSMTMS Below

First off, Gina and Ej are adorable. I don’t ship Portwell romantically but I adore their friendship

I’m sorry Ej is the president of the AV club?!?!?! He’s been a part of the club for, what, like two weeks? Go big or go home I guess

I love Nini’s outfit

RICKY USE YOUR EYES!!!

i see that a common theme this season is Ricky not being able to see what is right in front of him. 

I know Ricky is going through stuff. I’m a firm supporter of the Ricky needs therapy campaign. 

Gp better be Ej’s contact name for Gina or I will riot

“Are you announcing the fall musical, I vote Dear Evan Hansen.” 

two evans and possibly a third #joeserafiniforevan

YA KOURT IS STILL ON COSTUME CREW WE STAN AN ACTOR/TECHIE

“SPEECH SPEECH”

i love dara’s laugh

“Can you not keep your phone on silent in rehearsal like everyone else?” “’Sorry, everyone’, is what Carlos would say if he were more like me.”

I smell tension. They seem kind of tense this episode. I don’t know where it came from, there wasn’t really any build up bc thats how seblos rolls. Like they were completely fine last episode. Maybe Seb is just fed up or something happened off screen?

im just happy we’re getting seblos content lmao

“Terrible line” 

“Oh my god is your phone hungry i don’t understand.”

In the “previously on HSMTMTS” segment in episode 5, Carlos mentioned he was slightly scared to be on stage. he seems so effing stressed and irritated this episode more than usual. Carlos for the love of god talk to your boyfriend and eat a snickers.

I think the North High stuff has gone to his head. 

GAHH SEB’S COSTUME

okay carlos honey i love you but how can do you know north high stole your beast mask because a bit of fur is sticking out of a trunk. they have fur too. 

guys look around the room first it could have fallen but nOoOo you assume they committed a felony right off the back.

“Let it go” the kids of east high did not in fact let it go.

I AM DIANE AND I LOVE NORTH HIGH

yes, bring the loudest kids in the school to go steal something, thats an excellent idea.

and bring the kid who cant lie for sh!t im talking about you seb

RICHARD BOWEN YOU DO NOT SCREAM YOUR SCHOOL NAME IN THE ENEMY SCHOOL WTF

Carlos looks so done with everyone I feel you man, i feel you

north high looks more like pottery barn than an actual high school. Seriously, who or what is funding this place?

Miss Jenn: tells the kids to let it go and not go steal the mask. 

Also Miss Jenn: goes to north high

GET AWAY FROM GINA YOU MFER

ej is wearing the gayest shirt in history how does that north high boy believe they’re dating

nice save, ej. 

the faking dating was one of the best scenes of the episode. 

AWWW EJ 

im so happy gina is finally getting the attention she deserves. like i said earlier, i dont ship portwell but gina needs friends and ashlyn and ej are some pretty good friends. they have her back and that’s what i think gina needs.

LILY IS EVIL BUT SHE LOOKS GOOD DOING IT

kourtney darling lower your voice youre on a heist not shopping for shoes

nini you have done nothing for this heist why are you here? 

for the record, i don’t hate nini, but shes probably one of my least favorite characters. i liked her in episode 6 and season 1 tho.

the main kids all share one braincell they didn’t check the box where they originally thought the mask was.

“I want one”

Wow, you guys got caught. Between the Wildcats, loud voices, and large crew I would have never guessed.

SEB’S FACE WHEN NORTH FINDS THEM IM DYING.

The aggressiveness of Antoine’s french is killing me. 

zacky roy what are you doing?

LILY AND THE FLASHLIGHT

carlos getting fired up

“fugly” dramatic gasp

“Oh yeah, what if we bop to the top” I HAVE WAITED 17 EPISODES FOR MEAN/AGGRESSIVE/ANGRY SEB IT WAS WORTH IT

GO OFFF SEBBY

carlos’ “honey calm tf down” face

“honey no” “honey yes”

East High is confused by a dance off (so am i) but then preform a musical number to save their teacher from getting fired complete with original a original song and dance 

“That’s weird even for me”

LILY DONT YOU EFFING DARE INSULT ASHLYN I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF

“She’s better than this” Next scene is Miss. Jenn dancing with the enemy

Around you is my least favorite song of the season. That being said, the singing is good

RICKY LOOK THE OTHER WAY

“Tom Holland on stilts” 

“That man is ridiculous and you should dump him and date me” ANTOINE THAT IS A HORRIBLE THING TO SAY BUT ITS SO FUNNY

i love antoine

dj antoine in the house!

“I knew you all didn’t like the Mob Song”

“What kind of budget” THANK YOU KOURTNEY

nini straight up said “see ya”

how is no one questioning why someone is in costume? didn’t lily say no costumes?

also how is howie beast playing guitar with those gloves?

YAY KOURTNEY

ANDREW BARTH FELDMAN EVERYONE

seb really said “go get em babe”

CARLOS POP OFF

i love how frankie was singing in his lower range or it was just autotune

ASHLYN I LOVE YOU YASSSSS

nice save, antoine. do i ship? idk, but it was cute.

mob song was good. the solos were pretty good as well as the dancing but the background track...not my style. it was enjoyable tho.

SALTY BIG RED

“No, Nini’s Rose Song.”

im so glad they addressed why the rose song cant be used. its a really good song and olivia sings it perfectly but it doesn’t make sense for the plot and you cant alter text.

“Ej you had one job”

nini really likes leaving

Zack you are an adult it is high school theater not the World Series

“it’s just a song, ricky” I think you kinda, ya know wasn’t “just a song”. Out of the Old wasn’t “just a song”. All I want wasn’t “just a song”. How is Rose Song any different?

gina and ej goofing off is awesome

seb and carlos being the theater dads watching over their children

ope- howie turn your phone off

carlos and seb really said “bye, have fun” THEY BOLTED

ummm...yeah

you can see how much howie regretted in that moment

“I’m Nina” ooo interesting is she going to go by Nina now?

Overall, I really enjoyed the episode. The stakes are high and I’m glad the other relationships are getting screen time. The balance was good this week, I wish it was like this every week. My only issue is how underdeveloped the plot was this episode, but beside that it was pretty good.

[aflyingcontradiction]

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 89 - Twice as Bright

Jon: Right. But no more abattoir metaphors, please. Jude: Suppose it’s not really me, is it?

Yeah, too Fleshy.

Jon: I just have a few questions. Did you burn down a section of Gwydir Forest last year? Jude: Not alone, but yes. You should have seen how devastated they were, such a loss. Jon: I’m sure the Forestry Commission were mortified. Why? Jude: Stop that! And it was because Nikola Orsinov asked us to.

Jon doesn't even know what he's doing and Jude is getting all bristly, like a scared cat hissing.

Jon: I just… er, you were a friend of Agnes Montague, correct? Jude: She’s not one of your little stories. Jon: According to the statement of Jack Barnabas, she very much is.

Anyone going to throw things at me if I say "Oooh, burn!" in this context? Because, this is very much an Ooooh burn sort of situation.

Jon: Yes, yes, I understand, you could easily kill me, I’m at your mercy, blah, blah, blah. I have heard it before. And from things much scarier than you.

Jeez, Jon, where's all THIS coming from all of the sudden? Man, I wish I ever went from 'exhaustedly done with the world's shit' to 'I'm giving the world its shit right back!' like that!

Jude: Are you trying to talk me into killing you? If I wanted, I could reach through your chest like runny wax, and hold your heart while it cooked. No-one would even notice, if I didn’t give you time to scream.

Oh god, I love Jude. Every other avatar we've met is all quiet menace until they go full-monster and even then they're just 'JooOoon, coming to fiiiiind youuuu'. And here's Jude just CHEWING the goddamn scenery with relish, cutting things asunder with her edge. I've said this multiple times to people while discussing TMA but Jude is just basically the navy seal copypasta of avatardom and I'm enjoying her so much right now!

Jude: Hard to say. When I look at you I feel that burning liquid pain, eager to flow out and purify your rotten carcass, but I feel that a lot. Jon: Oh. M-More or less than normal? Jude: Hard to say when every nerve ending’s on fire. Hard to tell degrees. Jon: Third degree, maybe?

I cannot tell you which of the two I want to squeal at more right now. I adore this entire dialogue so much.

Jude: Oh please, your god is nothing! The Eye, Beholding, Ceaseless Watcher, whatever you call it, that’s all it does, it watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge. I serve a reckoning, a surging tide of destruction and pain.

Okay, but you still react like a cat that's been sprayed with water whenever Jon asks you a question, Jude, love, you're not fooling anyone...

Jude: The unfathomable contest of eternal forces is not the only reason I might want someone dead.

This is important right here. Obviously the idea that avatars are still their own people, regardless of the Entity they serve, became really obvious somewhere along the line, but at this point in my first go I was still basically thinking in terms of "Hm, well, this power and that power interact in this way... wait, that makes no sense..." and sort of discounting that it's not always ABOUT the powers, despite how obvious that was!

Jon: Statement of Jude Perry, regarding… some advice.

Jon just vacillates wildly between fear and being so DONE with Jude's bullshit and I'm enjoying every minute of it.

Jude: The pain is sensational. You feel your flesh cooking, your nerves screaming out as they die exquisitely. Your whole body changes texture as you become that which feeds the fire. In that agonising, beautiful transformation, you can feel it ignite again and again and again.

Okay, now she's just making self-immolation sound tempting...

It was Agnes, of course. I don’t know where she found me, I only remember sitting in a booth with a beautiful young woman who smelled like matches and incense.

Well, someone's certainly smitten...

And with each act of glorious, hateful destruction, I felt my god’s love embrace me, consume me, give me life. Any feelings of pity or mercy I might have had for the poor woman I fed from were cauterised.

Ah, come on, like they existed to need cauterising in the first place...

And so I ended it. For all the agony and pain on Gretchen’s face, she didn’t seem surprised when I doused myself in kerosene and set it alight. I think she screamed. She must have screamed.

Tbh, Gretchen may have been traumatised for life but Jude seems to have lost interest in her after, so that was probably fucking lucky for poor Gretchen here.

Jon: Michael? (...) Corridors, weird limbs, laughs like a… headache? Jude: What? No. He’s pale, got a big, weird scar. Smells of, um… Jon: Oh, ozone! Jude: Yeah, that’s the one. Hangs around with the Fairchilds sometimes.

I love that the podcast is lampshading the fact that they've got two recurring characters named Michael (AND one Mikaele on top but at least he's usually referred to by his last name). I wonder at what point Johnny went "Whoops, I may have created a confusion." (I mean, not that it's unrealistic, my UK friend group-and-adjacent-people had enough Andrews, Johns and Matts that they basically all ended up with weird nicknames but it's just a bad idea to have identical names in fiction.)

Jude: Come on. It won’t hurt. (...) I lied. Jon: - SCREAMING IN INCREASING AGONY -

I mean, first of all, duh, yeah, OF COURSE SHE LIED! But also, Johnny is not a bad actor. The scream reminded me a little of that one time that my partner managed to scald a hand with boiling water while making tea (one of the worst sounds I've ever heard, incidentally, would like to not hear that again.)

My impression of this episode

First of all, I adore Jude. Don't get me wrong, I don't mean I'd be friends with her (I mean, duh, she was despicable as a human being and is now a fully devoted servant of the Entity-of-torment-and-loss, having near-orgasms over the idea of making people suffer, so...) but as a character she's just so beautifully over the top! It's fun! And Jon's interaction with her is incredibly interesting because, well, this may be the first time that Jon meets anything Entity-adjacent that is actually afraid of HIM (and yeah, Jude may be putting on a tough act, but she seems fucking terrified.) That was just really fun to watch, to be honest. A little bit of ... vicarious power fantasy, perhaps, at least until Jude turns the tables again. This was just a really enjoyable episode!

[hesmygolden]

we said forever (ch.3)

ch.1 - ch.2 

A/N: thank u so much for reading!! I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. I cannot wait to write about Y/N’s interaction with Harry after the breakup...

CHAPTER 3

It was hard to sleep without the image of Harry and Camille coming into your thoughts every few seconds. You tried your best to distract your mind from it and focus on something else, like the upcoming release of your movie, but it just wasn’t enough to drift your mind away from the blonde woman holding the man who was still the love of your life.

You probably managed to get around four hours of sleep before your alarm woke you up. You felt tired and wanted to sleep some more but remembered that today was the day you were meeting with your manager to get your life back on track again.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed how different you looked now and thought about how real it is when people say that breakups change you.

Your face looked sad.

There was just something about it that made you look so sad and empty, which made you tear up. You wanted to stop feeling this way and you wanted even more to look better than before.

You covered up what you thought looked bad with some makeup and managed to feel a bit better about yourself. You made yourself a cup of coffee and decided to order bagels once you arrived at your office.

Once you arrived at your office, you were greeted by a very optimistic and happy Andrew, your manager, which was followed by a tight hug.

“So happy you’re back!”

“Glad to be here.”

You smiled and stared at him. You could tell he was genuinely happy you were ready to get back to business and he was also relieved the press for the movie could start now.

“Francesca is arriving in about 20 minutes,” Andrew sighed as he picked up his phone to violently type something, “your bagels are on their way too.”

“Good, I’m starving.”

“You look…” He paused as he stared at you, a look of confusion and surprise all over his face, “different.”

“Yeah that’s probably because I lost a little weight and haven’t been getting any sleep.” You cracked a smile to cover up the mess you had become.

“Oh dear,” he shook his head, “you’ll be alright, you just need to get back to your routine and you’ll recover your power.”

You nodded silently and grabbed your phone, trying your best to not open Twitter in case that picture of Harry and Camille popped up.

busy tonight?

You thought it would be a good idea to hang out with Saoirse to get back in track with the world, have a good chat with a friend and get excited about your movie, so you texted her.

Hey Y/N!! Good to hear from ya… I’m free tonight, what’s on your mind? :)

You smiled at the text from your friend, this was going to help you a lot.

let’s grab something to eat at the Beachwood Cafe.

Sounds good! See you at 6?

see you Saoirse!

The smell of the bagels inside the office made your stomach grumble and you were quick to stand up from the sofa and grab your breakfast. The taste of the cream cheese and salmon making you remember how good life could be sometimes.

“Francesca is here!” Andrew said a little too loud and opened the door to greet the tall, platinum blonde haired woman.

Francesca was your hairstylist, she had been doing your hair ever since your career started and you were always happy with the results. Not that you’d ever done something crazy to your hair (unless it was for a movie, which was usually a wig), but you always loved the results.

“Hello sweetheart.” Andrew kissed her on the cheek.

“How’s life treating you Andrew?” She said with a big smile on her face.

“A bit better now that Y/N’s back to work.”

“Y/N dear!”, she squealed as she walked towards you with a look of adoration on her face, you were like a daughter to her, “I’m glad you’re back!”

You helped her set everything up after finishing your breakfast and heard Francesca and Andrew talk about some recent gossip from Gigi Hadid and Zayn Malik. You were so lost with what was going around in the entertainment industry and you honestly didn’t care that much, unless it involved any of your friends.

“So what do you have on mind for me?” You asked Francesca as she mixed colours and grabbed hair brushes.

“I’m bringing back your power dear.” She giggled.

“Francesca-“

“Nothing too different honey, don’t you trust me?”

You sighed and looked at her before nodding and relaxing on the chair. You did not want her to give you a drastic change since you didn’t want to seem like a cry for attention after going through a breakup, it just wasn’t you.

While Francesca did your hair, you went through your schedule for the press release of the movie with Andrew and couldn’t help but feel excited to go back to work even if things were going to be a little different now.

Time went by and you received a text message from Saoirse.

Hey is it okay if Timothée joins us tonight?

yeah, no problem :)

You didn’t think much about it. You had met Timothée Chalamet a few times before and he was a nice guy and a really good actor, but you wouldn’t really call him a friend so you were excited to get to know him better.

“Y/N, I don’t want to bring up this conversation but eventually we’re going to have to talk about this so it’s better to do it now.” Andrew’s words made your heart skip a beat, since you knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” You sighed.

“So the press is going to be all over you and they might ask you about Harry, “ he looked straight into your eyes, afraid you would break anytime soon, “do you know.. uh you know…”

“Have I talked to him? No, I haven’t.” You cut him off.

“But do y-“

“Know that he’s with Camille now?” You asked coldly.

Francesca bit her lips and focused on drying your hair while Andrew cleared his throat and nodded.

“I saw something on Twitter last night so I can only assume they’re a thing.” You said and took a sip of your coffee, trying your hardest to not cry.

“Well, they are.”

You knew what Andrew’s response was going to be but it still hit you like a thousand knives.

“They went public a month and a half after your breakup.” He finished.

“What do you mean they went public?” you raised your voice, which caught Andrew and Francesca by surprise, “Did Harry tweet or post something about her or what do you mean by that huh? Because he is not the type to make a relationship public.”

Andrew scratched his neck as he grabbed his phone, trying his best to not make eye contact with you since he did not want to see you cry.

“She posted a picture with him and later he confirmed it on a radio interview.” He said quietly.

You just nodded and felt your eyes getting teary.

“Well,” you fake laughed, “it’s what he and his team wanted anyway right?”

Andrew remained quiet and Francesca noticing the awkward silence, decided to join the conversation.

“Oh honey,” she exclaimed, “who needs a man anyway?”

You smiled at her in a thankful way and stared at your finished hair.

You let a tear fall down your face and brushed it off with a smile as you touched your hair.

You looked really great.

She had darkened up your hair a bit and given it a better form as well as a special keratin treatment which ended up looking amazing. You felt like a new woman and you were definitely ready to get back your life.

After saying goodbye to your manager and thanking Francesca for helping your self esteem get back on track, you headed to the Beachwood Cafe to meet Saoirse and Timothée, clearly not expecting to run into the one and only Harry Styles with his new girlfriend.

[honey-dewey]

Random Dewey Finn headcanons (?) I came up with while eating my breakfast

Before Dewey wanted to be a big rock star, he wanted to be an astronaut. 

His aunt gave him his first guitar for his 10th birthday, thus sparking his love of rock music. 

One of the major reasons he never quit music was because of that aunt. She passed away early, and was constantly the only member of his family that truly believed in him. 

Dewey’s mum was kind of absent, so he was raised primarily by his dad. 

Dewey and Ned met on the first day of high school, and were inseparable for all four years. 

Despite both of them liking both, Dewey likes Star Wars more, while New prefers Star Trek. They have debates of epic proportion over which of these preferences is better. Dewey somehow always wins. 

One of the reasons Ned let Dewey live with him is because Dewey is an amazing cook. He never eats what he makes though. 

His specialty is breakfast foods

While he may be an amazing home cook, he’s an even better baker. 

Dewey is highly sensitive to textures, especially food and fabrics. 

Because of this, he rarely tries new foods, sticking to a decently firm schedule. (He really likes hard boiled eggs) 

It’s also why he likes sweater vests. The actual sweater doesn’t touch his skin, but he can rub his hands up and down the knit when he gets overwhelmed. 

He’s also sensitive to criticism. Along with that, he cries easily. 

After the whole School of Rock incident, Dewey did some quick online classes on teaching. When a music teacher position at Horace Green opened up, he was the first one contacted to fill it. 

During SoR shows, Dewey has a tendency to get very hyped, and this eventually leads to a collapse, usually on the bus ride home. It happened once on stage, where he just went still and quiet all of a sudden and then began to panic. 

All of his kids know exactly what to do during his collapses. 

They made him (yes made him) a stress doll. It weighs about twenty pounds and looks like a panda. They lay it across Dewey’s chest and let him lie down on a blanket. The kids then surround him to make a protective barrier. It’s a very effective method. 

It took almost thirty years for Dewey to get diagnosed with mild autism, anxiety, ADD, and seasonal depression. His mother was a firm believer that mental illness was a hoax. 

He did try and take medication for it, right when he started teaching full-time. It made him nauseous and tired and so unlike himself that he quit after three months, a decision that was fully backed by his students. 

He eventually did go back and get a new prescription for his ADD. It works surprisingly well and doesn’t make him act any less like himself. 

This isn’t even a Headcanon. It’s straight up actual canon from the Broadway.com Stick it to the Man video! Dewey stims! He knocks his wrists together and does the raptor hands! (I don’t think his hands were truly by his side at any point during the entire show) He taps his feet and shakes his hands! His facial expressions are always on 10 and he scronches his face when he’s excited! His head go bop! He’s a stimming Boi!

Also have you ever seen a neurotypical person dress like that? Ever? Nope. Sweater vests and jeans and sneakers (that look like heelys) is not a neurotypical outfit. 

Dewey doesn’t like rainy weather, nor does he like the cold bite of winter. He has a heater and a happy light in his classroom for rainy and/or cold days. 

His favorite season is fall. He really really likes to step on leaves and hear that satisfying crunch. 

Dewey also has a weakened immune system, and is pretty vigilant about his health. He takes vitamins and vitamin D supplements, and yet always ends up with some kind of illness in winter. Despite this, he refuses to get any kind of flu shot. 

Dewey’s list of phobias includes: needles, heights, clowns, and the dark. 

He’s dead terrified of the dentist. Ned has to practically drag him every time. It’s not even that he has poor dental hygiene or has actual odontophobia, he just hates the experience. The combination of strong smells and uncomfortable touches and horrible noises overwhelms him so much. 

For much of the same reasons as his hatred of the dentist, Dewey dreads getting his hair cut. Social interaction mixed with weird feelings on his surprisingly sensitive head and the constant background noise and the hair spray-y smell make it an experience Dewey’s hated since childhood. Now, Ned usually cuts Dewey’s hair because he’s really not picky about how it looks, and Ned knows exactly how to go about the job without causing Dewey to hyperventilate and cry. 

He uses a night light! It’s the fun kind that projects stars on the ceiling. 

Dewey is the king of field trips. He’s always just as eager as the kids to go, and he loves to learn niche facts. His favorite field trip location is the aquarium. 

Dewey quit drinking after his 23rd birthday, when he blacked out and woke up in some random girl’s bed. She promised they didn’t do it, but ever since then, he’s terrified it’ll happen again. 

Speaking of which, Dewey’s a virgin. 

Once, one of Dewey’s female students came to him and said an older man was following her to and from school every day. Dewey was later suspended from work for a week for punching a man and putting him in the hospital. Once they knew why, the school board unanimously decided not to punish him. 

Dewey absolutely insists all of his kids call him Dewey and not Mr. Finn. 

He’s the most supportive teacher in the entire school. He’s got name tags on every desk with each kid’s preferred name and pronouns. When Billy comes out as non-binary, he makes the pronoun switch immediately and puts a beautiful stained glass-esque progress pride flag in one of his windows. 

Someone hatefully vandalized said pride art project and Dewey actually cried. His kids all banded together to make a new one. 

Sometimes, the kids purposefully ask Dewey to sing certain things because his voice gets so damn tender and beautiful, as opposed to the usual bombastic singing they’re used to. (Think like. Some of the 35MM songs) 

Dewey has a routine with his drinks throughout the day. Two cups of coffee in the morning, one at home and one at work. One water bottle before lunch and one after lunch. A Gatorade or some other fitness drink after school, usually during band practice to make up for how sweaty he gets. And one cup of lavender citrus tea with extra honey after dinner. 

He broke his only water bottle about four months into teaching full-time and started to use a plastic one every day. Ned decided that wouldn’t do, and got him a Mandalorian water bottle. Dewey loves it to bits. 

Dewey doesn’t celebrate any one version of a holiday. He’s equal opportunity for any and all holidays, but he grew up Jewish. That doesn’t stop him from helping Ned put up his Christmas tree every year. Nor does it stop him from celebrating Yule with his online friends. 

Despite being Jewish and mainly celebrating their holidays, Dewey loves Christmas music and starts playing it as soon as he can. The kids dare him to hit those ridiculous Mariah Carey high notes in All I Want For Christmas. He does it. 

He also once sang ‘Little Drummer Boy’ to his kids the day before holiday break. He only played his guitar softly and by the time he was done, each and every kid was fast asleep. (He played Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer as well) 

Dewey absolutely collects soft blankets. He has four halloween ones, two Tim Burton ones (a Beetlejuice and a Corpse Bride), eight winter holiday blankets, and three miscellaneous. He brought them all into class once and built a blanket fort to teach his kids about ancient civilization. 

Speaking of which, his teaching methods are unorthodox at best, and at worst downright crazy. But he always teaches and he always makes it memorable. His class has the highest test scores in the school. 

Dewey usually teaches using music or hands on activities. He plays soft background music during every class no matter the circumstances, and said screw the building’s lights and uses primarily lamps and strings of Christmas lights. 

He also kind of forgets that he teaches essentially middle school, and he swears every so often when he’s super passionate. Like when he taught the kids about the US Presidents and called Andrew Jackson a racist bitch and Richard Nixon a lying bastard. 

After getting bullied throughout all of high school, Dewey came to terms with what his body looked like, and now he really doesn’t care. (He did have a lot of fun smashing the scale his mother got him for his birthday once) 

Dewey was supposed to teach his kids about mental illness for a suicide prevention thing the school did, but got about halfway through before he had a breakdown and the kids declared the rest of the day a bust. They watched cute animated movies instead of learning for the rest of the school day. 

Speaking of animated movies, Dewey really loves Studio Ghibli. 

The first time one of his kids called him ‘Dad’ he cried. Then they kept doing it and now he’s had to accept that he’s basically a father to about 30 11-year-olds. 

If you ask any kid in the school who their favorite teacher is, they will not hesitate to answer ‘Mr. Finn.’ Even if they aren’t in his class, he’s their favorite. 

Dewey’s classroom is always open for lunch. It’s quiet and calm, usually with a movie going in the background. 

He also stays after school for about an hour every day, helping kids with homework. He hates math with a passion but that didn’t stop him from trying to figure out Katie’s math homework with her. 

Even at home, Dewey cannot stand the quiet. He either has his headphones on or the radio going. Silence just isn’t an option. 

Dewey once got pneumonia and tried to come in to work anyway. The kids made him go home. He didn’t really put up much of a fight. 

The first instrument Dewey ever learned to play was the piano. He started to learn when he was super young, and that was how he learned how to read music. His kids didn’t even know he knew how to play until they walked in on him practicing one day. 

Dewey says ‘fuck gender roles’ and wears the girl’s skirts to a few SoR concerts. He likes the way it makes his legs look. 

Some jerk parents constantly tried to get Dewey in trouble for months because they didn’t like him and thought he wasn’t ‘high class’ enough for their kid’s education. Dewey was so stunned when they showed up during one of his classes that he couldn’t speak and just started to cry. Said student stood up and called their parents out. Two days later, those parents were off the school board. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the spectrum, Dewey found out a new kid he’d received was being abused at home because they weren’t getting high enough grades and he yelled at the kid’s parents in front of all the other staff members. 

Essentially, Dewey can’t defend himself at all, but will not hesitate to protect his kids. 

Dewey has said multiple times he would die for his kids. He’s always 100% serious, especially during lockdown drills. 

Once, the school had a lockdown that wasn’t a drill, and Dewey managed to keep his entire class silent and calm while mentally preparing himself to lay his life down for his kids. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. 

Dewey’s also said he’d seriously consider adopting any of the kids if their at-home situation was that bad. 

When he finally could, Dewey moved out of Ned’s house and into his own cramped loft apartment. He’s in love with the apartment, even though it’s tiny and kinda smells. 

Dewey has almost no concept of volume control. He’s slightly deaf from constantly doing very loud shows and sometimes shouts because he thinks that’s a normal speaking volume. 

As one of, if not the actual, youngest teachers at the school, Dewey is universally adored by the rest of the staff. It took a while for all of them to get on board with him, but now they all really like him. 

Dewey’s favorite fruit is pomegranate. There’s just something super cathartic about cutting into a pomegranate and slowly de-seeding it. Plus, it tastes super good. But he only likes them if he can de-seed them himself. 

One of the ways Dewey grounds himself is by pressing things to his mouth. He usually just puts his hand up on his face or the end of a pen in his mouth, but whenever he has a blanket, one corner is up against his lips. The same goes for stuffed animals. They’re always against his face. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. 

[yetanotherbuffyblog]

The End has come

THIS IS THE END

So after killing Caleb at the beginning of this episode, Angel gives Buffy a magic doodad that’s supposed to go to someone more than human but with a soul, and Buffy tells him not to join her in this fight because he’s got to hold the line in case it fails. He’s also a bit upset that she’s into Spike, but accepts it and buzzes back off to his own show.

The magic amulet goes to Spike, who is upset about seeing Buffy make out with Angel, but she sort of gets together with him? In the middle of the night she’s bothered by a vision of the First, and in their conversation, she comes up with a plan. And then they go do it.

I’m going to condense a lot of Plot here but I don’t know how else to sum this up.

Basically, they go invade the Hellmouth, go down in there, while Willow uses her magic and the Slayer Axe (STILL NOT A SCYTHE) to awaken every single Potential Slayer. Then the Potentials have the power to defeat the oncoming Uber Vampires. Which they do, and it’s Awesome. The rest of the cast, the non-Slayers wait out in the school to take down the ones that get by the Slayers.

Once the spell is cast Kennedy gets the axe back to Buffy and she continues kicking butt. In the ensuing fight, Buffy gets wounded, but gets back up despite the First taunting her. Also Anya dies saving Andrew. Wood also gets wounded but survives. Spike’s amulet thing glows, and he sort of… glows with light, and then starts to explode and wipes out the Uber Vampires. The Scoobies all evacuate while the Hellmouth collapses, and pile into the school bus while SUNNYDALE SINKS INTO THE GROUND WOW.

Anyhow, that’s… kind of a cool, but very definite, ending.

-“Okay I’m basked, what are you doing here?”

-I was right! Buffy should have taken off Caleb’s head while he was down--made sure he was dead. THAT is how you check for a pulse.

-What the fudge she cuts him in half from the groin up? I mean that’s kind of awesome but it’s also crazy.

-I complain that Caleb doesn’t have much of a backstory that makes sense; I suppose he doesn’t need a complex motivation, but I would have liked to have had a better idea of who he was and how he got there. I’m told that he was a last-minute addition to the story, so I get there maybe wasn’t time, but for a character so major he’s just kind of… there.

-Buffy’s language turns a lot more casual around Angel. I like their interactions after their breakup much better than back when he was the main love interest. He feels less like ‘Tragic Vampire Boyfriend’ and more like, I don’t know, an actual person.

-The vampire super senses kind of depend on plot/drama. It makes sense that Angel can smell Spike on Buffy, but I don’t know how often we see the vampire super-senses.

-Spike has a bad drawing of Angel’s face stuck to his punching bag.

-It’s good that Spike tells Buffy straight up that he has overheard the conversation with Angel, rather than stewing on it for the rest of the episode. Then again, this IS the final episode.

-Maybe the First, being, well, the First Evil, doesn’t need motivations relatable to humans, but I can’t help but think: why does he want to take over the world? What does he get out of it?

-Is the First even a ‘he’ I suppose? More of an ‘it’ if we’re being honest.

-I was worried that Willow’s full-on evil mode last season would be forgotten when I started this season, but it keeps coming up and Willow is constantly trying to make sure she doesn’t go back to that place. And I like that! It’s dark that she asks Kennedy to kill her if things go badly.

-A reference to Trogdor the Burninator? In Buffy? It’s more likely than you think.

-It ends where it begins: in Sunnydale High School.

-Dawn takes no crap these last few episodes and I am here for it.

-This one bit where the original four are standing together, and split up as they walk off to go and do their own separate duties? That’s cool.

-Buffy deciding the time of the final showdown, rather than it being part of a prophecy, or something that the villain chose in order to enact the evil plan and they have to rush to stop him--I like that we do it this way, this time, this final time.

-That is an awful lot of uber vampires.

-Could they not have had Willow do her spell before they go down into the evil hole?

-Yes, them being stronger helps, but Uber Vampires are not nothing--they’re resistant to most attacks, even by Buffy at the ordinary level. She struggled with them. The Slayers are seen taking them down pretty well, which shouldn’t be what’s happening right now. I get that they have had training and briefing on the things, but really, it shouldn’t go THIS well.

-Willow goes blonde for a bit. And then collapses, which seems like it could be a prime point for the villains to attack her.

-Andrew, Giles, Wood, and Anya with swords are really not going to be much against Uber Vampires, are they? I mean they are in the episode, but from what we’ve seen thus far I don’t know why they would be? Although maybe this proves that swords are better than most of the weapons they use. They should ALWAYS be carrying swords.

-It’s AWESOME that Buffy gets back up after being stabbed. But I don’t really know how she did it.

-The amulet and Spike’s whole ‘shining and destroying the Uber Vampires’ thing is kind of a deus ex machina. But it does feel like a natural end to his character arc on this show. So even if it doesn’t make that much Plot sense, it makes Character-sense, and so I can’t hold too much against it.

-High School is collapsing, as it should because it sucks.

-Of course Andrew has survivor’s guilt.

-Did ALL of Sunnydale collapse?! Is the Hellmouth just… gone? That’s a fitting way to end the series, but I don’t know how that works, exactly? Good thing nearly everybody got out of town.

-It is VERY impressive that Buffy was able to hang on to the top of the bus while they were racing out of town.

-Okay it makes character sense for Spike’s ending, but it also feels a bit weird that at the end of the day, the world is saved by Spike, when we’re sort of gearing up for this big female empowerment thing. Not that it undermines it entirely, but that it does feel a bit off.

-Also that Anya dies? Look, the whole ‘people providing backup in the school with swords’ thing doesn’t make that much sense, considering that it’s during the day. Makes for a great dramatic final battle, but not really a lot of sense.

-TV Tropes claims that Joss was more concerned with making an emotionally-satisfying and thematic finale than worrying about continuity, and I get that--hence the Uber Vampires going down easily to the awakened-Slayers. 

-Giles’s pronouncement that there’s another Hellmouth in Cleveland made me think of the tourism video.

-TV Tropes ALSO says that this episode was meant to be the length of two episodes, or a two-parter, but that the network denied them the necessary amount of episodes. Those goofballs!

-There will probably be a post or two talking about my thoughts on having finished the series, and where to go from here.

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

Twinyards bonding ft. Neil @ the beach :’)

@s-ff-q-dr​ Here ya go bb. It’s quite a bit angsty tho. TW: blood mentions + allusion to Dr*ke

Aaron woke to the squawking of gulls fighting over something they’d found in the trash. Hauling himself up into a sitting position, he scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

“Ronnie,” Kevin whined, his eyes still shut, “stay.” 

“I didn’t even go anywhere,” Aaron grumbled. Kevin threw an arm around Aaron and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Aaron could feel the smug, sleepy smile he wore but he couldn’t be bothered to be a brat. Not when laying in Kevin’s arms felt so good. Maybe a few hours wouldn’t hurt. They lay there in a tangle of limbs until the smell of eggs grew too strong and Aaron’s stomach began to voice its outrage. It took some doing but Aaron managed to bribe Kevin into getting out of bed with more kisses than he deserved. Kevin deserves all the kisses, Aaron thought to himself as he dragged his boyfriend down to the kitchen. 

Erik and Nicky called greetings to the pair as they sat down at the table. Plates had already been set out for them. Erik and Nicky were discussing the plans for the day but Aaron couldn’t find it in himself to pay attention. Instead, he found his gaze drawn to the kitchen. At the stove, Neil worked quietly as Andrew sat on the counter stealing ingredients. Taking a spoonful of the eggs he was cooking, Neil offered it to Andrew. To Aaron's surprise, his brother accepted it. The small smile that unfurled across Neil’s face made it apparent that he hadn’t expected it either. 

“Do you want me to feed you too?” Kevin whispered, his breath ghosting the shell of Aaron’s ear. 

“Shut up, Day,” Aaron said as he shoved him away. Kevin laughed and spooned another helping of bacon onto his plate. They spent another hour there at the table. Neither Neil nor Andrew joined them. As the clock struck eleven, Erik stood up and started clearing the table. With some gentle coaxing he managed to convince everyone to go and get ready for the day’s activities. 

They dressed quickly and were out the door an hour and a half later, record time The sun was up, beating down on their poor heads. Neither Andrew nor Aaron were built for the heat. It wasn’t long until the backs of their pale necks had turned a bright red. Suddenly a shadow fell over Aaron. A big floppy hat fell over his head, covering his eyes. 

“Better?” Kevin asked as Aaron pushed the hat off his face. 

“Yeah,” Aaron mumbled. Kevin’s smile grew wide. The sheer brilliance of it outshone the sun framing him. God, I love him, Aaron thought. “Fuck off,” was what he said. Lacing his fingers through Kevin’s he turned away and prayed Kevin would mistake his blush for a sunburn. As he did he caught sight of Neil again. 

Leaning up against the railing, he stared off into the distance. A forlorn look had settled over his face as his shoulders sagged.  Despite the day’s heat, he had his arms wrapped tightly around himself as though he was cradling himself. Andrew returned from the ice-cream cart and offered Neil a bite of the monstrosity he’d bought for himself but Neil wasn’t paying attention. Aaron saw his brother open his mouth but was too far away to hear what he said. Whatever he said was enough to bring Neil back but not to pull more than a half-hearted smile from him. Instead, he left Andrew there in favor of walking down the boardwalk towards Erik and Nicky.

The six of them spent the remainder of the day out on the pier. A carnival was set up at the edge. Upon learning that neither Kevin nor Neil had ever been to an amusement park, Nicky frog-marched the pair up to the ticket booth. Purchasing all day passes, he sat them all down to figure out a game plan. 

“So we’ll start with the merry-go-round, then the drop, next the Pharaoh’s fury, and then….” and on and on Nicky went. “Alright, so you’ll take them right, Erik?” 

“Sure but what about the twins?” he asked. 

“They’re coming with me.” Andrew let his head fall onto the table with a loud thud. “Don’t be so dramatic, Andrew,” Nicky chided. “Come on, it’s going to be fun!” Kevin kissed Aaron goodbye before tugging Neil out of his seat. He walked quietly beside Kevin as Erik started up a conversation. Muttering a steady stream of curses, Andrew got up and plodded off after Nicky. 

“It won’t be that bad,” Aaron offered as he caught up to his brother. Andrew cast him a dark look that begged to differ. Aaron huffed a sigh. It was going to be a long day. 

It was. No matter what ride Nicky took them too, Andrew refused to get on. What his brother’s problem was, Aaron didn’t know but he was determined not to let his sour mood put a damper on Nicky’s enthusiasm. Sure, Nicky’s chipper attitude could be annoying, but Aaron knew it was an act. There was far more to Nicky than met the eye.

Aaron had always known of Luther and Maria’s homophobia but he’d never known the depths of the despair that Nicky had faced living with them until… Aaron shut his eyes against the swell of emotions. Memories of broken glass and blood stained bed sheets and Andrew’s manic laughter filled his head. The weight of a hand on the back of his neck shocked Aaron back to the present. A pair of hard brown eyes were locked on him. In them a flicker of fear and spark of anger glinted. Andrew cocked a brow in a silent question. Aaron shook his head and he felt the weight of his brother’s hand drop away. 

“Oh my god!” Nicky shrieked. “There’s no line for the drop! Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go,” he cried as he snagged Aaron’s wrist and pulled him along. As they made it to the ride, Nicky let go. Aaron fell back a little ways. 

“One ride,” he said. 

“No,” Andrew said. Aaron turned to glare at him but Andrew wasn’t looking at him. Instead, his eyes were watching a point in the sky, the seats of the ride as they ascended up into the clouds. 

“Wait. Are you-”

“Shut up,” Andrew snarled. Aaron clamped his mouth shut then. They watched as the riders made it to the top. The seats hung there for a few seconds, prolonging the suspense. And then, it fell. Screams filled the air, already a buzz with the cheers of other fairgoers. The ride stopped midway in it’s descent before slowly rising once more. “One ride?” Andrew’s voice was so soft that Aaron almost missed it. Almost. 

“Just one,” he replied. A few minutes later, the ride slowly descended and the passengers disembarked, laughing at themselves and one another. 

“Nicky,” Aaron called. He jogged up behind his cousin and tugged him down. “Let us go alone.” Nicky’s brows furrowed in confusion until he saw Andrew step past the barrier. His eyes went wide and a massive smile split his face. 

“Not a word, Nicholas,” Andrew hissed as he made his way to the middle seat. Strapping himself carefully into place, he worked his jaw. Aaron took the seat beside him. Belted into place, they pulled the bar down over their shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron caught sight of his brother’s leg. bouncing like mad. 

“Hey-”

“Don’t.” Again, Aaron fell silent at his brother’s command. Behind their heads, the ride clicked and jostled. Instantly, Andrew’s hands were clutching the fabric of Aaron’s shorts. “FuckFuckFuckFuckFuck,” he cursed as the ride began its ascent. Up, up, up the ride went alongside Andrew’s anxiety levels. His grip on Aaron’s shorts tightened with every click of the ride until his knuckles were white. 

“Andrew,” Aaron called. His brother whipped around to look at him. His eyes were wild, practically feral. Instinctively, Aaron reached out and grabbed the back of his brother’s neck. The effect it had was astonishing. Almost immediately, Andrew’s eyes cleared, the sea of terror parting enough to show that some semblance of humanity remained behind in his brother. “Breathe.” Andrew sucked in a deep breath and let it back out slowly. “Hold my hand, yes or no?” 

“Yes,” Andrew hissed through his teeth. With seemingly a great deal of effort, he uncurled his fist from the material of Aaron’s shorts. Dropping his hand from his brother’s neck, Aaron laced his fingers through his brother’s. The pair of them pressed back into their seats, their gazes locked on each other as the ride stopped at the top. “Aaron?” The slight wobble in Andrew’s voice was like a punch to the gut. In the endless seconds they sat there at the top of the drop, Aaron vowed he’d never do anything like this to his brother ever again. 

And then, they fell. A scream tore from Aaron as they plummeted. Andrew’s eyes were screwed shut, his face twisted in pain. Down, down, down they went. The ride halted abruptly just beneath the midway point but their stomachs kept going down. As their seats rocketed up Aaron’s screams turned from terror to joy. He laughed hysterically as they shot back up. 

“Drew, you’re missing it,” he gasped between fits of laughter. He watched as Andrew pried his eyes back open. His grip on Aaron’s hand tightened but Aaron didn’t mind the circulation being cut off from his hand. The ride dropped them once more and, this time, Andrew kept his eyes open.  

A few minutes later the ride began its slow descent back to Earth. Aaron’s laughter continued until his feet touched the ground. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

“That was horrible. What kind of person enjoys that?” Andrew asked as he lifted the bar off their chests. 

“People who aren’t absolute losers,” Aaron replied. Undoing his harness, Andrew got out of his seat and nearly face planted. Another bout of laughter overtook Aaron as he watched his brother struggle to stand. The adrenaline had faded from his body and left his legs too weak to hold him up. It lasted until Aaron tried to get out of his own seat with similar results

“Who’s the loser now?” Andrew shot back but Aaron couldn’t be bothered by the insult. Instead, he was all too focused on the half-smile his brother now wore. 

It wasn’t long before the sun started to set. Andrew, for his part, did go on a few other rides. He’d willingly climbed into the spinning teacups and deliberately spun them too fast. Stepping off the ride, he stumbled over to the closest trashcan and promptly emptied his guts into it. Nicky wasn’t far behind him.

They met up with Erik and the others at the entrance as the last of the sun’s rays began to fade. Neil seemed to be in better spirits after a day at the carnival but it didn’t last long. The second his eyes fell upon the sandy shores of the beach, his smile came crashing down. What it was about the beach that triggered such a change in mood, Aaron didn’t know and, frankly, it wasn’t his business. Bottling up his curiosity, Aaron let Kevin regale him with stories of incompetent ride operators and sleezy carnies with rigged games. 

They beelined for a little restaurant at the edge of the boardwalk. Seated on the open-air balcony, the view of the moonlit ocean was amazing. Neil sat with his back to the view between Erik and Nicky. Despite being the closest to it, there was no way he could hear the lapping of waves from where he sat. Tipsy from their drinks, the group made their way back to the beach house an hour or so later. 

“Les go, Aaron,” Kevin slurred, tugging him towards the bedroom. Aaron followed him and helped Kevin undress. They fell into bed trading drunken kisses before falling asleep in one another’s arms. That night, Aaron dreamt that he was back on the ride only this time, it wasn’t him screaming. It was Andrew. Tears rushed down his face in rivers as he screamed and laughed. Blood flowed from a cut in his head, flooding his eyes and mixing with his tears. Pieces of glass were still embedded in the flesh there. 

Aaron woke with a start, panting as sweat poured down his face. Kevin had moved to his own side of the bed in his sleep. Despite the amount of thrashing and noise that had undoubtedly accompanied Aaron’s abrupt awakening, he was still asleep. Of course he was. Slipping out from beneath the covers, Aaron made his way to the bathroom. He flicked the lights on after he’d closed the door and saw himself in the mirror. It wasn’t really him though. Once more, he saw the terror-filled eyes of his brother as they hung there, miles above the ground. Splashing water on his face, Aaron kept his gaze off the mirror before hurrying back out. Bypassing the bed, he grabbed a jacket and headed for the door. Shuffling across the sand in the pale moonlight, Aaron headed towards a figure at the edge of the water. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asked. 

“Needed some space,” Neil replied. “You?”

“Needed some air.” The two of them lapsed into silence. This was how it always was:  Aaron tried to say something and Neil put in as little effort into responding as he could. To be fair, that was exactly how Aaron had treated Neil since the day they’d met. Not for the first time, Aaron kicked himself mentally for his lack of foresight. There were a lot of things Aaron wanted to say to Neil. Fuck you for being closer to my brother than I am, was definitely pretty high on the list. How’d you do it? What makes you so special? were too. Thank you, was still number one. 

“My mom died on a beach.” All those thoughts flew out the window. The pieces of the puzzle slowly clicked into place: Neil’s silence, his lack of attention, Andrew’s insistence on going to the beach for the summer. This is it, Aaron. He’s giving you a chance. Don’t you dare fuck it up. 

“That sucks,” Aaron said.

“Yeah, it was pretty shit.” 

“How’d she die?” 

“My dad stabbed her.” And, in that moment, Aaron wished that he had been the one that Nathan had stabbed. Honestly, there was very little he wouldn’t do to get out of this conversation. And then, God took pity upon Aaron’s wretched and gave him one last chance. “I know she was a bad person. She beat me and made me hurt in ways that none ever should but...”

“But she was your mom. She was all you’d ever had,” Aaron whispered. 

“I tried to tell him but he just doesn’t understand. It’s not his fault and I know he’s trying to help” Neil insisted. “But, sometimes, he just makes things worse. Sometimes it’s just so hard.” Neil’s voice broke, shattering like a mirror and, in every fragment, Aaron saw himself. 

When Tilda died, Aaron hadn’t shed a tear, not for her at least. Instead, he’d lain in his brother’s hospital bed, wailing. Aaron had all but given up his faith by then, but he’d held his brother’s nearly empty body close and prayed. “Don’t take him away. Please, please, please, God. I can’t go on all alone. Please, let him stay.” And He’d heard him. Andrew had made a full recovery and was up and walking a few days later. But, at the time, Aaron had not known whether God had returned his brother to him as a gesture of kindness or an act of cruelty. 

To save Aaron, Andrew had killed the only family Aaron had ever known. All that he’d been left with was a cold and distant uncle who saw him as a mark of his mother’s failure, a cousin who pretended his problems away, and an empty husk of a human being for an older brother. Andrew’s attempt to fix Aaron had only broken him even more. 

Being here on this beach was hurting Neil and potentially damaging his relationship with Andrew. Anyone who knew Neil knew that he was only ever truly at home on the court or by Andrew’s side. No one on earth could possibly fathom what it took to be one of the monsters, to stand by Andrew Minyard. Even to them, there were times when Andrew was all vice with no discernible virtue. Aaron had long since realized that Neil loved Andrew with all his heart; more than Kevin, or Nicky, or even Aaron did. For Andrew, the man he trusted to protect him, to drag him out to the place where Neil had lost his only family… It couldn’t be easy. Nothing with Andrew ever but this was pushing it too far. 

Tears tracked slowly down Aaron’s own face as he put an arm around Neil and drew him close. Who they were for, Aaron didn’t know. Maybe they were for Neil, a man who’d never been shown an ounce of love in his life, and yet, was so full of it. Maybe they were for Andrew, a man whose love was just as wicked and sharp as the knives beneath his bands. Maybe they were for himself, a man who still hadn’t learned how to love at all. 

They sat there in silence, letting the salt of their tears mix with the briny ocean water. By the time Neil’s breathing had evened out, Aaron’s tears had been spent. Scooping up a bit of water, he cleaned the tear stains from his face, careful to avoid his eyes. He waited for Neil to do the same before they walked back to the beach house together in silence. Light spilled out onto the porch from the open door. Entering, they found Andrew waiting for them in the living room. 

“Go to bed, Neil,” Aaron said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Andrew and I need a minute.” Neil cast a worried look at Andrew, who only motioned for him to go. Aaron waited until he heard the snick of the bedroom door closing before turning on his heel. He walked back out, knowing his brother would follow. Making his way down the stairs and out onto the beach, Aaron made sure to put a good deal of distance between himself and the house. He didn’t want to accidentally wake the others. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Aaron stared out at the water. There was no point looking at Andrew; he’d only be wearing his blank facade. “I hate Neil Josten.”

“You’ve made this abundantly clear,” Andrew drawled. 

“Do me a favor and shut up for a few minutes. You didn’t seem to have a problem doing that before,” Aaron snapped. Why he turned to look at his brother, Aaron didn’t know but, in doing, so he caught the flash of surprise that passed over Andrew’s face at his outburst. Andrew’s mouth clamped shut. Taking a shaky breath, Aaron tried to see past the red. “You’re hurting him. Being here is hurting him. Have you ever seen him cry?” 

“Neil doesn’t cry.”

“What did you think he was doing out here by himself?” Aaron watched as his brother worked his jaw. “You are more than the knives in your bands. We don’t just keep you around for protection. We drove all the way out here because you said you wanted to go to the beach. You wanted something. Nicky gave up his plans for Germany to be with you. Erik flew all the way out here. Kevin was going to spend the summer with Wymack at the National Court. Kevin gave up Exy for you! We’re here because we wanted to support you. Andrew, we’re here because we love you. And no one here loves you more than Neil does.” 

“Aaron-”

“Don’t you ‘Aaron’ me!” he countered. 

“I know!” Andrew roared. Aaron’s fury faded a fraction. “Do you think I can’t see what it's doing to him? Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Yes. “He needs time, Aaron. He needs new memories. Today, he spent the whole day running around with Kevin, enjoying something other than Exy. Today, you spoke to him without picking a fight. Do you think I didn’t see you holding him? The next time he thinks of the beach, he’ll still think of her but he’ll think of us too.” The red tint around Aaron’s vision faded enough to see the truth in his brother’s words. As his anger subsided, Aaron’s thoughts drifted back to the months after the crash. 

“When you drove me across town to see The Wallows…”

“I knew you were afraid to get in a car with me. I wanted to show you that you were safe, that I wouldn’t hurt you.” There were tears pouring down Aaron’s face now, clouding his vision. He heard the sound of sand hissing beneath his brother’s feet as he closed the distance between them. “Yes or no?” 

“Yes,” Aaron whispered. He felt his Andrew’s arms wrap around him and he left himself sag against the solid weight of his brother. Clinging to the material of his brother’s t-shirt, Aaron’s body poured out more tears than he’d thought was humanly possible. Four years ago, Aaron had wondered if God had been playing a cruel trick on him when Andrew recovered from the crash. Now he knew it was the greatest act of kindness that anyone could have given him.   

[celosiaa]

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

*

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

*

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

<3

[neural-nett-and-link]

Prompt: “- Today we transform into actual dragons. - Let's talk about that.”

[cw pee, again]

ok i’m just gonna put a blanket cw on this blog for pee. this neural network does NOT shut up about it

- Today we transform into actual dragons. - Let's talk about that. 11 19 1081 Millennium Big Foot Impersonation - Today we show you a mythical beast that's been in existence since 2-700 AD. - We're talking about the mythical beast Millenii Hooves. - Thanks for being here. - Yeah. Now, we've got some crazy KY1 proof, because we've put an entire book of Kyriakos around here. - Yeah, we're gonna need it. - But maybe you're looking to get a little bit of KY1 here. (laughter) - OK. And if you want some, you're gonna need some KY1. You can get a lot of KY1 in one bite. - Dink it. - [Rhett] Now, John Legend has repeatedly joked that he's not actually actually the mythical beast until he dies. - Well, it's possible, but, he's not going to make that statement. I'm just trying to make a point. - Yeah, he has a pretty strong stance. I mean, I like to drink, but I have a pretty strong stance. (laughter) - I mean, that's true. That's true. - That is true. - I don't know if it's right, but it's true. - I mean, have you seen the internet before, but the internet is forever. I'm talking about the internet. - There's nothing, I mean, it's just like the shadow side of the internet. - What is this? Is this an image of a bloody hand? - I know, I'm gonna bring it in, I don't know. (laughter) It's a good start. - I mean, it's just so, it is. - That's a great starting point. - So we're gonna start with that, and then we're gonna go forward. - Hmm, about the hand. Yeah, I think this is a pretty good mascot. I mean, it's got like a Deion Sanders look to it. - I don't think so, but it is an appearance-changing shape. - I mean, I think it's pretty good, you know. (laughter) - It's pretty good. - Okay, so the hand, I think it's an elongated hand. This looks quite like an adult hand. (laughter) - I don't know, it's like, I get my hands very close. - My hands are really close, I think. (laughter) - Alright, I'm gonna see, I'm gonna take a little bite. - [Rhett] Look, look, look man. You've got a pretty good bite right there. - You put your mouth on that hand. And you don't want to use your tongue, it just gets mushy. - We have to do a chemical boiling right now, because the grub is turning red. - We gotta turn away. - Is that drunk? - [Rhett And Link] No. (gray noise) (all laughing) - I mean, look at that. - What does it taste like? -Oh my gosh, it's disgusting, it has a like, flat taste. I mean, the ol, it's making, it's making it kind of sour. It's not like sour at all. - Just like sour, sour. - I know, but it's pretty good. I hate sour. I mean, it's got a fresh bite, but it's a little washed down. - It's got saltiness, I'm not complaining, but it's not bad. - Well you've been drinking a lot, and you really like sour. But this is good. - I know, it's good. - The sourness is an actual serving. - Is that that sour crunchy thing in a little tomato? - That's sour. That's in there. This is sour, sour, sour, sour. (laughter) Sweet. - This is good. - Sour, sour. - Sour, sour. - Sour. - Look at that. - [Link] Oh, you just put some K-Cups? (laughter) - Sour, sour. (laughter) - Yes, eating K-Cups. - Look at that paw. (laughter) - Oh no, smell, smell. - Wow, the smell's pretty strong. - [Rhett And Link] Sour, sour. - Sour, sour, sour, sour. Sour, sour, sour, sour. Sour, sour, sour, sour, sour, sour, sour. (all laughing) - You've got a little thingy. - Hostile area to the nose. - Sour, sour. Sour, sour. - Sour, sour. - This is nice. Sour, sour. - Sour, sour. Sour, sour. - You can almost taste all the salt. - The saltiness is a thing. I don ==================== - Today we transform into actual dragons. - Let's talk about that. 12 14 1185 Eddie's Dragon Screens - Hello again. - Thank you for making us part of your daily routine. We are here to make you happy, and we like to be happy. - And we take at least a part of your day to make you happy. You have made us a part of your daily routine here on this show, so we're going to be taking your daily place. - We're going to be devouring the world's greatest favorite dish of all time, Edible Dragons, which I love to call 'Chow'. - Thank you. - To prove a point. - Okay. This is the first episode. Dink it, and sink it, and then chew it. We're going to be chopping down to the bone. We're going to be before the Dragon SmaZhen (makes music) world record. - I'm not messing with the world record. This is what I call it. - So, you may have seen it, for example, on Good Mythical More. - Sure. - And it is actually the only living product of the Giant Panda Collection. And it's only sitting on shelves in Singapore. But in addition to all that, we're going to be giving you, our viewers, a special bonus video in one of the instruction videos on the Dragon Screens. And we're going to be losing some of our accelerant technique, so this is gonna be a fun thing. - Good Mythical Morning. - We don't know what we're gonna do! It's gonna be like a Halloween party, with fireworks, and people have to get off the boats to catch the next drops. Yeah. There's a little fire here. It's gonna be a little fun mixed with the videos that we're watching today. (jazz voice) Happy Halloween, everybody! - We're really excited to be here. - Yeah. - And we need to show a little something to the people who have not been to Singapore. They're probably thinking about it in the movie "Black Mirror". But they're not thinking about it in Singapore because it is in Singapore. So, we're gonna get a hold of them to get a little bit of a snapshot of what they've been up to. - Okay. - Getting ready, welcome to the beginning of the episode. - I mean, thanks. - What is happening with you guys? - Thinking about what you've been up to? - Starting to wonder. - Yeah, thinking about what you've been up to. - Yeah, thinking about what you've been up to. - Okay. - They're still giving us presents. - Oh, really? - Yeah. Lots of gifts. Lots of presents. - I haven't even shoved my child's seat down, so I'm just pinning it here. - Yeah. - Okay, I guess I'm done? - Yeah, yeah. - (laughing) - This is good, this is good. - And yep, I'm feeling good, and I'm drinking this. He's so nice. - Yeah, he's telling me happy Halloween. I gotta say I'm glad that he's in a nice place to be. - He goes to the parade. - He's the first one. - And he's getting a lot of presents. Like, he's giving out free burritos right at the parade. - I'm giving him pizza money, he says. - I mean, the burritos we're giving out. - Yes, I'll give you a piece for that. (laughing) - (laughing) - I got a burrito. I can get you a fist. I'll give you a finger. Oh, we got a bang. - He's getting down on it, man. - Hold on, I'm giving you a finger. - What don't you give us a bang? - Oh, you're laughing at me? - I feel like it's time for a little game. - I'm just peeing on the table and thinking about what I've been up to. I was taking a nap, and I woke up. And, you know, I was kind of bum comin' back to the airport after that. I mean, I'm just kind of thinking about what I've been up to. Because again, I do not, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for that, and for not being with you guys. But I'm just, I'm I'm behind for some reasons. But I'm less worried about this. - I'm tired of being pulled around. - Yeah, I'm tired of it. But I'm going to be making a difference. And thank you for liking, commenting, and subscribing. - You know what time it is. - And you know what time it is. - Hello, I'm Andrew. I am currently in my second ==================== - Today we transform into actual dragons. - Let's talk about that. 19 15 1710 Focused Meditation - | Mindful Panic - Our heads are full of stress. - And so are our yoga pants. - Mm. - And we can't let that situation get to us. We've got to pay close attention to our minds, - Right. - And our boobs, too. - We're on our yoga pants, right, - Now. - I got that. - Okay. - And this is just the beginning. (music playing) - I'd give it a nice little pull. I wanna give it a pull. (upset music playing) - Oh my god, oh, that's so big! - Are you panting? - Yeah, I think I need a little massage. Maybe someone's watching. - Oh, oh, oh, oh. That's hard. How about a little massage from the front? (all giggling) - I'm sorry, Rhett, I'm embarrassed. - [Rhett] What is it? - This is gonna be a problem. (audience laughing) - It's not gonna be a problem. I think I need a little massage, I think you need a massage from the front. You know what, we're gonna be doing a tug and a pull. That's it. (dinging noise) - And you got it. - You've got it? - The handle is harnessed. (laughs) You got it, all right. (audience laughing) Here, let's give it a tug. (audience laughing) You wanna teach me how to offer this massage? - Yeah, teach me how to offer it. - Yeah, you get the opportunity to. - I want to be a teacher. - It's not me. Vani's got a little hand-seating chair. And here's Vani. - She's a teacher. - [Vani] I feel like I'm being trained to teach this class. - I think I know what I'm doing. (audience laughing) (dinging noise) (audience laughing) - Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You're learning! ♪ ♪ You learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ You learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ I learned something new ♪ ♪ The thing I learned ♪ I learned something new ♪ You miss it, I'm learning an art ♪ ♪ You're learning something new ♪ You learn something new ♪ Let's teach it ♪ ♪ You're learning something new ♪ You're learning something new ♪ Here we go. ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ You learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ I learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ I learn something new ♪ ... Oh it's scary. (dinging noise) ♪I learn something new ♪♪ ♪ ♪ I learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ I learn something new ♪ ♪ You learn something new ♪ ♪ You learn something new ♪ You learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ I learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ I learn something new ♪ ♪ You learned something new ♪ You learn somethign new ♪ ♪ You learn somethign new ♪ ♪ You learn somethign new ♪ ♪ You learn somethign new ♪ ♪ You learn somethign new ♪ You learn somethign new ♪ ♪There's somethin' I learned. - Do you know this thing you're teachin' me? - I've never seen this thing that I'm teaching. - Oh, I've seen the whole thing. - It's like a clock. - Yeah it's kinda like a heartbeat. ♪ (theme music) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪You'll learn something ♪ ♪♪ • ♪ ♪ ♪ You'll learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ You'll learn something new ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ You'll learn somethign new ♪ You'll learn somethign new ♪ ♪ You'll learn somethin' new (dinging noises) ♪ ♪I learned something new ♪ ♪That's different. ♪That's new. (dinging noise) ♪ (audience laughing) ♪ ♪ ♪You're learning something new ♪It can't be my beer. - [Rhett] I'm approaching it in a different way. - That's cool. - What do you call it? I call it the Jolt. (dinging noise) You're coming back to me. - [Link] I'm coming on to you. - Oh yeah, I'm coming to ==================== - Today we transform into actual dragons. - Let's talk about that.

8

40

808

The Most Social & Demonstrating Magic Roles of 2018

- Today we're gonna be learning how to do things that are really distracting.

- Yeah, we're gonna be doing stuff that sounds like a nightmare. But we're gonna be learning how to not get distracted by it.

- Yeah, okay, I think I've got my first one here.

- We've got a new video game update, Dragon's Tale, which you can access tomorrow.

- Thanks for being your mythical best!

- I played it and I did a lot of, uh. I felt like I was getting distracted.

- This isn't just a game. We got all these things to help with that, folks, let's get to it.

- Oh, aren't we getting distracted, Rhett?

- Yeah, we're getting distracted by this game. It's time to play.

- Thanks for watching.

- We are not actors. We're just about as real as they come. There's some really, really cool things that we got just for the show. I got a whole deck of cards, a whole deck of items that get presented to me individually, and you make items of that, and then when it's time to

- Rhett, what's the most socially disruptive job you can do?

- Well, I think I get a little distracted by all the unexpected things that are going on in my life. Now, I've been to Japan. And then I've been to the [International] Space Station. And then I've been to Columbia. And then I've been to the Smithsonian. And then I've been to the Institute for the Study of Lincoln in the tradition of the College of Letters. So, all of these things have gotten me. And I get distracted by them. And it's my job to talk it out.

- Which is cool, right?

- Yeah, I think that's cool. This is a game that we're gonna play. And I've been to the university, and you're not gonna be surprised. But we're gonna show you how to safely and efficiently talk it out and, in a positive and culturally respectful way, we're gonna teach you how to find an outside source to talk it out, so you can not be distracted by the unexpected things that are happening around you. And I've been to the Smithsonian, and I've been to the Institute for the Study of Lincoln, and I've been to the Smithsonian. And I've been to the Institute for the Study of Lincoln, and I've been to the Smithsonian.

- Yeah.

- And then I've been to the Institute for the Study of Lincoln.

- So, I've gone through the Institute for the Study of Lincoln, and I've gone to the Institute. And I've made a point of going to all of these, and I've been to the different, and I've been to the different places. And so, I've felt a connection. I don't want to take it back to wherever that is. So, I have written up a book, Not About Magic, and I'm going to teach you how to get rid of that distraction in the most socially disruptive way that you can think of.

- Oh, you're not just gonna be solving a problem?

- No, I'm going to be talking about some unexpected things playing. For me, that's a lot.

- That's it.

- I mean, something for everyone.

- Yes, I think this is a thing.

- Right.

- You really got it.

- This is gonna be very, very entertaining. Rhett, you get part of it right.

- Yeah, but you're gonna be missing the rest.

- Yeah, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna.

- Right out of the gate. I'm gonna be happy to be winning. It's like a high school lacrosse tournament.

- Oh, you are.

- See, I'm not trying to do well on this exam.

- Well, okay, I'm gonna be satisfied when you get around to it.

- Anek, that's not it. You're gonna be like, "I did it."

- So, if I can get your last piece right, you get an Atek.

- I did it.

- Okay, Link. I would like to begin.

- Oh. (dramatic piano music) Okay, we got a new game. It's time for, "Diversified." Okay, I'd like to introduce you to the first thing we're gonna be playing. There's a new game called, "Diversified." It's a game that you take in multiple directions, and you can call in all the items at the same time to get to the correct item, but you have to continue in one direction instead of going another direction. You have to stop at the fruit that you're looking

====================

- Today we transform into actual dragons.

- Let's talk about that.

11

59

1157

Do You Need A Living Tongue? | Rhetting In Tongue Form

- I don't!

- Okay! I'm gonna teach you how to use your tongue now.

- Right.

- I'm gonna put in your mouth the thing in the middle, at the bottom.

- Is it a tongue?

- Yes.

- It's just a tongue? I've never seen one! Oh, you know, you may like some of the things that I do. We don't. I'm giving you some tongue worship, and I'm gonna help you figure out, what parts of the tongue are really important. I'm gonna give you some tongue worship, and you'll figure out what is really important. Okay, I'm gonna be the guide.

- Yeah, man. Okay, now we're going to take our first bite from the Tongue Form Deluxe Toothpaste. I'm not telling you this toothpaste is an actual toothpaste. But it is entirely made out of tongue pieces that are made out of tongue pieces, and we're gonna do some tongue worship to try to identify that, oh, a little tongue. To identify, whoa. Is that saying, this tongue is part of your tongue? Because you're so good at identifying things. No. I hope that's not the case. What is a tongue? You don't need to be able to use your tongue, it's become part of your body. You can kind of know that it's part of you. It's your tongue. That's what I- (chuckles). Uh, I think this is a tongue,

- But it's part of your tongue.

- Are you looking in the mouth?

- No, you're looking around your mouth, and the tongue's part of the-

- Oh, no.

- (giggles).

- Your tongue. Like a tongue would be part of your mouth. Is it actually part of you?

- Absolutely yes, it is. It's part of your tongue. You can't see it. It's part of your mouth. You are my Tongue Form. Thank you for taking that. All right, let's take the other one. The Tongue Form Deluxe Toothpaste has a tongue for a mouthpiece. And of course, that tongue is a part of your mouth. And it's really hard to erase. This thing is really big and strong. Well, this thing's a little bit strong, I don't know. But I think it's-- I think is very strong. I think this is concrete. This is the mouth piece. It's the above part of the mouth. And it's very strong. I think there's a lot of hard adhesives. It's amazing how confident this guy is making this thing. I mean, it's hard. I don't know what else to say, it's like you've been handed a gun. It's pretty terrorist. It doesn't kind of-- It's like-- This is, like, the thing you carry around like a toy? That's like a toy gun. It's really hard. I don't know what becomes of it. Yeah, it's like a glove. You've been handed a gun. I mean, you know what? I'm gonna start using this thing, I'm just gonna use it like a toy, and I'm gonna like, just hold it like a toy. I'm just gonna-- I'm gonna start licking it, like you would with a toy gun, and-- (chuckles)

- You just lick it?

- I don't know. I do like, I'm just gonna lick. I'm going to give it a little lick, I'm going to lick it, it's gonna be like licking time.

- It's gonna--

- You didn't lick it.

- Oh, gosh. You lick it. That's nice. I think you'll like it. It's good. You like this? This is hard. Okay, I think I like this, but I like my mouth. It's got a full mouth. We're gonna give the Tongue Form Deluxe Toothpaste a total lick. Oh, wow. It really is amazing. I mean, it's like you're just licking your pantry. It's a little bit like a second hand. You're licking through your pantry, dirty drawer.

- You're licking your pantry.

- Yeah, and it's the big and massive tongue, I think.

- It's got a little--

- It's a little little bit of tongue.

- It's like licking a pack of wolves. What? Oh, gosh. I think you're licking your mouth. (chuckles) I'm licking your tongue. (chuckles) It's really good. Now, I think I like this. (chuckles) You really like this? You're eating a g

====================

[shadow--writer]

Maybe we're all Lonely and Afraid, Maybe we're all Trying to Find the Words to say

song!

Maeve x Lucas. Shadows on the wall. 2.8k

TW (there are more squicks): slight mention of past abuse, mention of plague, mention of eye stuff lol 

@dela-png

Lucas was a hard worker. 

It was obvious from the way he moved, from the way his face scrunched up as he thought. 

Watching the same thing be mirrored on someone of much shorter stature had become...an amusing game of sorts to Maeve. This had gone on for a few weeks now, Will begging them to take the lessons down to the dock to get out of the stifling heat of being indoors. 

While she agreed at first, under the guise of the heat, she soon realized the boy had other motives in coming to the dock. 

The air today was stifling, even outside. She fanned herself with her hand, almost melting into the chair she sat in. Will had finished his work quickly, a bit too quickly, before running off again. 

Lilith and Amanda had gone off alone to seek shelter from the heat, a flimsy disguise to be alone if she ever heard one. But they got what they needed to done, and with a wink she sent them off. 

Emmie and Andrew on the other hand…

“Ms. Maeve it’s too hot,” Emmie whined, sinking into her chair. 

She reached over to take the little girl’s hand, gently holding her wrists in her hands. Her still, oddly enough, cold hands. 

“We can go to get some more water...well you could finish your water,” she said with a warm smile. “Water is very important in staying cool.”

Emmie made a face. “Yeah but water is gross!”

“...my love, it doesn’t have a taste.”

“What makes it gross!”

She laughed softly, letting go of one of Emmie’s wrists to brush back her hair. Just a bit sweaty, her cheeks were rosy though. No fever, no sunburn. No signs of a heatstroke. 

“Why can Will go and play and we can’t?” Andrew whined, crossing his arms as he stared at his addition pages.

“Will isn’t...playing. He’s helping Lucas, see?” She pointed to the smaller boy, toddling after Lucas while brightly talking about something. There was a necklace around his neck. 

The eel tooth she pulled out of Will’s stomach. What a first meeting. 

She pursed her lips to keep from smiling. Will had burst into the clinic when she was trying to save a man’s eye (a very impromptu moment that almost cost that man his other eye) yelling about how Lucas made him his own tooth necklace. 

It did take a while to calm Will down from the sight of the man’s infected eye (and her all bloodied), but that wasn’t her fault. 

He now wore that necklace everywhere. She never saw him without it. And if he didn’t wear it around his neck, she tied it around his wrist. Oh how he bragged about it to the others when Lucas wasn’t around. Talking the big talk about how he was just like their big brother. 

She hid her giggles, watching Lucas pick up a crate of fishing gear and watching Will attempt to pick up the same. 

Attempt, being the key word. 

He fell back with a thump, making a face at the heavy crate. Lucas was none the wiser, silent as he walked away from the young boy’s struggle.

Lucas was so quiet when he worked. And the others tended to avoid him like the plague. And she knew what avoiding like the plague looked like. 

She rubbed at her palms, trying not to think back on that time. The blood on her hands. The tears. The horror in the streets. The smoke from the Lazert blocking out the sun. 

She sighed, massaging her temples. Sometimes she wondered how on Earth she was able to sleep at night. Most nights she didn’t go to sleep to begin with. And of course, her quite atrocious eating habits. 

Which Lucas, somehow, was helping to manage. At least a little. 

Will picked up a smaller crate, this one having hooks and replacement fishing line. Quickly, he bolted after Lucas. 

She wondered how long this would go on before Lucas noticed his little shadow. The shadow with the face of a round cheeked boy. So energetic and innocent. The missing teeth reminiscent of hers.

Giggling, she held her arm over her head as she looked up at the sky. No clouds. Not even a hint of rain.

She knocked three teeth out the first time she fell from a tree. Her mother told her that if she kept her teeth by her bedside she would trick a fairy changeling. A well tricked fairy would leave sweets. 

Ah, she was thinking in fairy tales again. It was the innocent and the horrifying that made her miss her mother. 

And she was waxing poetry. All lost in her mind today it seemed.

“Here, we can wrap up lessons, and you two can go find somewhere to cool off. It’s too hot for arithmetic anyway,” she said, closing the books scattered around the rickety old table. 

Andrew and Emmie lit up, dashing away from the table and laughing as they ran who knows where. 

Smiling and humming to herself, she started to clean up the mess they made. It was an explosion of books and papers, and it was going to be a pain to sort the pages by kid. 

She tied her hair back with the handkerchief, her smile growing bubbly as she touched the soft yet worn fabric. Such a simple gift. Small yet she treasured those who made it. 

She snuck a look at Lucas, he was showing Will how to bait a hook. The latter of which was gagging at the prospect of having to hold a worm. That poor worm. 

A treasure from those who made it and those who helped give to it. 

Lucas was a hard worker. 

But he was kind.

Watching him laugh, the boisterous sound making her heart flop in such an odd way she had to look away from him. Hearing Will try and mimic such a laugh was amusing as well, making her stifle her giggles to not be heard by the two of them. 

Will liked following Lucas around, chuffing when he chuffed, rubbing the back of his neck when Lucas did so. The weird, adorable, totally Lucas, focus face now on the face of someone much younger. The crease of the eyebrows, the squint, the way he breathed harshly when things went wrong again. The way his tongue would peek out from his lips when he focused really hard.

Kids were strange things. 

Will cheered when he baited his hook, Lucas dodging a little as to not get impaled by the hook as the boy waved the baited hook and line around. Both were laughing, the sun unbearably beating down on them. 

She swept the papers into one hand, rapping them against the rough surface of the table to even them out. Tucking the small stack into the notebook of her notes on addition, she moved on to Emmie’s work. 

Lucas watched her for a moment, helping Will set his hook down so someone else may use it. 

She knew his footsteps, now echoed by a shadow’s. Will stomped harder to make his footsteps louder, and she found it adorable.

“Afternoon,” she said, keeping her back to them. Her heart kept fluttering weirdly when Lucas was around. It was starting to become even stranger than normal. 

He kissed the top of her head, she could feel him smiling against her hair. 

“You smell nice today,” he said softly, taking her hand away from where she was cleaning up.

Will watched, taking her other hand and making her laugh. 

Lucas saw this, blinking at the little boy as he mimicked Lucas’ soft expression when he looked up at her. But it was more childlike and a clear imitation. 

She decided to play along a little. “Why Lucas! You’ve gotten so much smaller!” she said, gasping a little as she looked down at the smaller boy, he was growing like a weed, now coming up to her hip. 

He giggled, smiling brightly. “Now.” She tugged her hand out of the actual Lucas’, placing it on her hip. “Has someone put a spell on you?”

“No!” he laughed. 

“No?” she asked, tapping her lower lip. “Have you just been shrunk? A potion maybe? Did you eat something weird?” she teased, squatting down a little. “Now you seem to be around my height. A blessing don’t you know. My neck hurts from always looking up at you.”

He laughed. “Ms. Maeve, I'm not Lucas! I’m Will!”

She placed her hand on her chest, gasping again. “Oh my! You were so convincing I thought it must have been Lucas!” His gapped tooth grin made her smile. He was a sweetheart when he wasn’t whining. “Now where would the real Lucas be?”

Will shrugged, but his giggles and side eye’d looks to Lucas made her smile.

“Ah. Is he over here?” she asked, looking over where Will was. Lucas was much taller with her near the ground, he’d be an imposing sight if it weren’t for the joy lighting up his eyes. 

Her gaze slowly fluttered up as she met those eyes. An even brillianter blue today. And now him trying not to laugh. She got to her feet, twisting her lips as she looked at him. “Hmmm well you’re around my Lucas’ height.”

He let out a tiny snort, eyes crinkling with affection. Her cheeks warmed. 

Ignoring her flushed face, she stood on her tiptoes, pretending to inspect his face. He had freckles now, his skin deeply tanned. 

She wanted to count them. They were…well, the only word for it was adorable. They suited his face well. Though the tan lines from where his hair stayed matted to his face made her giggle. So uneven. 

In some ways she was lucky she couldn’t tan. 

“Hmmm you look like my Lucas…” she said, landing back on her heels with a small click. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, both him and Will mimicking the motion. “Oh dear now it seems I have a doppelganger,” she giggled. “Two doppelgangers!” 

Lucas dropped the charade when he laughed, nose wrinkling at her antics. 

“I’m afraid you can’t be my Lucas though,” she said, coming to her conclusion. “You do look an awful lot like him. But he doesn’t have freckles.” 

“Can’t you make an exception just this once?” he asked with an affectionate smile. “I’m sure your Lucas wouldn’t mind. And the freckles are an easy fix! A little makeup and they’re gone!” He made a vanishing motion with his hands, Will doing the same. 

He still didn’t seem to notice it, which was still amusing to her. 

“Even so! I still can’t overlook one thing.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” he asked, moving closer to her. This was risky with him working today and all, but the heat might’ve just melted her brain into mush. 

She rubbed her nose against his, moving away. “I’m afraid you’re much too short to be my Lucas.”

He gasped dramatically, holding his chest and stumbling into the nearest table. She laughed so hard she snorted, covering her mouth with her hands as she smiled. Watching her laugh, he shot her a grin that made her blush. 

“If you can figure out a way to get a little taller…” she held her index and thumb apart a little for reference, trying to get her laughter under control. She had to fight her smile. “Then we might get somewhere.” She sighed, leaning against her table, papers scattering on the ground. Will watched the two of them, laughing. “And then maybe we can find my Lucas. Wherever he may be.”

He looked around, dragging a small crate over and standing on it. “How’s this?”

She bit her lip, smiling as she inspected it. “Hmm a bit too tall.”

He stepped off the crate and up onto his tip toes. He quirked an eyebrow and she laughed. “Perfect.” 

He snorted, resting back on his heels as he leaned over to kiss her softly. “I should get back to work,” he whispered, kissing the corners of her mouth before moving away. 

“I’ll miss you,” she said, wiping an imaginary tear away from her eye, making him chuckle. 

He ruffled her hair. “Don’t forget me,” he joked, holding her hand gently, raising it and kissing her knuckles softly. “After work, I can make dinner.”

“Tonight?”

“If you’re free.”

“Well I’ll disappoint many men, don’t you know they just come flocking to my door!” Not quite a lie. A drunk man, like any person, could turn into a stupid person. “But I think I can fit you in,” she said with a wink. She could feel his teeth graze her skin as he laughed, letting her hand fall to her side.

“I’m honoured.”

She smiled, leaning against the table again. “It’s a date then.”

His cheeks pinked as he nodded and walked away. “Y-Yeah. A date.”

“Hopefully this one goes better!” she called after him. “Hard to get bit by an eel that far from the ocean.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

She giggled, waving at him sweetly. “Never. Will has evidence of his fight with the creatures around his neck now.”

He looked surprised that Will would wear the necklace. Pride soon soaked into his features and he grinned. “Too bad you didn’t get a tooth stuck in you, I would’ve made something for you too.”

She snorted, waving him off. “Get back to work, eel boy.”

He saluted, jogging away.

She turned away to pick up the papers she knocked down, smiling to herself.

Gods she loved him. 

It took her a moment to realize what she had just thought. What she knew was going on.

She waited for the waves of panic, for the horror, the disgust in herself to set it. She waited for her stomach to sink to her feet and the colour to drain from her face.

But it never came.

Instead, there was a warm feeling. Buzzing, her heart racing a little, that same love struck smile never faltering. 

She loved him.

The very thought startling her.

She slammed the papers down on the table, spooking Will from where he was trying to make fish hooks out of sticks. 

Even startled, she did not mind. 

No. She did mind! She minded about one thing.

It was too easy. She hadn’t suffered enough to get to this realization. The universe never smiled upon her for long. Something always was going to happen. Always going to go wrong. It was too easy to stay here and love him so...freely. 

She froze at the prospect of telling him.

There was the catch. She couldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t. 

Stacking Emmie’s papers and tucking them between the pages of a book, she gnawed on her lower lip. She feared him rejecting her. A kiss was one thing. Yes a rejected kiss would (and did) sting but…

Loving another was different. Kisses were physical, showing affection. Infatuation.

But no. She loved him.

She glanced at him, he was trying to pry a few of the smaller kids off his back, he was tending to the nets and they mistook him for a plaything. He was laughing, holding one by their shirt collar. She didn’t recognize the child, they looked around six. 

Her eyes darted away, lashes brushing her cheeks.

Being in love wasn’t some...profound thing. It happened slow, it crept up on your senses, drugging you and sending you down into the murky feelings below. It could happen quickly, it could move at a slog. It could be romantic, platonic, about family. But being in love was no different than being angry at someone. Being in love could be used against you. Love was an emotion that vile people used. 

Love was a chain, dragging her down into the depths of the ocean while she gasped for air, finding none. 

No. 

No. It was different. 

Being in love with Lucas was different. 

It was...innocent in a way. Like the taste of bubblegum on a hot afternoon, the smell of something sweet in the mornings. 

The feeling of waking up in the arms of the person you were indescribably, unspeakably, deeply, undoubtedly, in love with. 

It was all different than before. Before it was a biting cold followed by the sugary sweetness of mock warmth. Being left in the snow, shivering and alone until they wanted you again. Possessing. A chain around her throat. 

But she wasn’t in love with Nicolas Bell anymore. 

This was something new altogether. 

It frightened and enticed her. 

Lucas was odd. He was dense as he was sweet. How he interacted with her and around her was so different from what she knew of before. Skittish, but like a puppy in a way.

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. He was like a puppy. A kicked puppy at times.

He met her eyes again, she smiled.

She did love him. 

And she was okay with that. 

[5-secondsofcolor]

Te Guardo || A.I.

Warnings: None? a bit of odd angst? This is unedited so tenses are funky

Length: 2K

Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.” & Ashton x Airport

AN: This is a part of @h0tsos and @maluminspace second fic event. Thank you so much for organizing this again!! I’ve linked the event masterlist below if anyone wants to go check out other folk’s work. 

EVENT MASTERLIST

_____

Ashton shuffles through his glove compartment of his car, he should’ve registered the car months ago when he first moved to LA but lies of ‘next week’ let him go on far too long. Now he slowly pulls out old ticket stubs and memories of nights passed, looking for his title and registration in the parking lot of the DMV. 

He pauses when he finds himself gripping a smooth plastic paper, pulling out square Polaroid. All of them tossed in there unceremoniously after his moving away party. By the look of the pictures, it’s clear they’ve survived a few seasons, fading in the time spent in his glove compartment. 

A smile breaks out as he plucks one out and tucks it into his wallet before he continues to pull out crap. Finally, a piece of pink paper peaks out, a sigh of relief coming alongside it as he joins the appointment line. 

After an eternity, he gets to the attendant, the woman doesn’t look up from the last form on her desk before asking “What’s the reason for your appointment?”

“Registering a vehicle”

“Can I see your license and registration?”

He pulls out his wallet, as the attendant finally looks up at him giving him an irate look for not being fully prepared, he returns an apologetic smile as the top of his ears warm. Shuffling through the wallet for his license produces the polaroid first, he tucks it back down and grabs his license. 

“Here it is,” he announces as he hands it over, the attendant giving him no response. A couple of moments later, the woman hands back his forms alongside a small ticket with ‘B36’ stamped across the top.

“Take a seat and wait for your number to be called,” The attendant says excusing him to the waiting area. 

With little else to do, he pulls the polaroid out and allows his mind to remember the night it was taken. Vanessa had done her makeup in the way that made her brown eyes pop, the bright colors complementing her brown skin. He always liked the way her highlighter made her look so golden. The darkness of her hair blends slightly into the dark background but he remembers her soft natural curls and the way they always smell like coconut oil and soft flowers. 

They’ve spoken since he moved but it held an awkwardness and it’s all his fault. Truly, he’s replayed that night over and over so much so that he wonders if he’s remembering it right. It was nothing but a moment stolen but it put them on a different path.

“Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met,” Ashton said as he cupped Vanessa’s cheek. 

In the poorly lit backyard, it all felt rushed, childish for Ashton to use their only moment’s alone all night to make half declarations of love but it’s what it boiled down to as the timer on Ashton’s big move nearly hit 0.

Her breath caught in her lungs as he pressed his lips to hers. She tried to commit it to memory, feeling it was the start of something. The way string lights gave everything a warm light, the chatter pouring out of his— well now Luke’s apartment, the way was just cold enough for goosebumps to raise on her skin, and the softness of his lips. Instead what’s committed to memory is the sadness, the reality that he was driving away in 2 days.

“Ashton! Andrew’s looking for you,” Luke’s booming voice breaks the moment before she has a chance to acknowledge what happened. 

“I’ll be right in. I’m just going to walk Vanessa to her car,” His attempt to shoo away Luke is useless, Luke’s too drunk to realize what he’s walked into. Instead running out and wrapping an arm around Ashton’s neck. “Can’t believe he’s all grown up. Leaving us for LA. Can you believe it?”

“Don’t worry about walking me, my car’s just a house over. I’ll just text you when I get home, promise.”

“Please,” it sounds like a plea as Luke turns him around, shouting about one thing or another as they rejoin the last party, leaving Vannesa with a blank mind and absolutely too much to process.

She pulls into her driveway quickly. Surreal feelings hitting her as she sits in her car a moment after turning it off. That couldn’t have really happened, she shakes her head as she collects her things. Habitually pulling up Ashton’s contact as she turns on her living room light. Her mind still blank as she opens their conversation. 

After a moment, she presses on Calum’s contact and quickly types, “Home safe! Let Ash know please.” and tosses her phone on the couch.

Ashton waited for that text message. Holding on to the promise made in passing, he got her message from Calum but nonetheless, he called her, wanting to hear anything from her but got her voicemail and waited for her to call him back. 

____

After a dinner with, Vanessa finds herself down the street from her apartment at a little brewery. It’s the one that always reminded her of Ashton. Countless afternoons spent meeting up. He used to make these walks down the streets with her on lazy afternoons.

Her friend’s saved a booth, as is Friday tradition. Except today, an acquaintance won’t stop chatting her up. He’s cute, kinda interesting, she knows he’s a good guy, Cameron, their mutual friend, won’t stop talking him up. 

Talked up or not, Vanessa can’t remember his name as she nods and gives a polite chuckle when a change in cadence indicates a joke. It also doesn’t stop her from glancing at her phone the moment it vibrates. “A. Irwin” it reads with a familiar contact picture popping up.

She all but jumps out of her skin the second she sees the name. Grabbing a jacket and excusing herself, “I’m sorry. I need to take this.” 

The brisk fall air hits hard after her being inside the warm bar. She nestles her phone between her shoulder and ear as she wrestles her jacket on, breathless she gives a small, “hi.” 

“You busy?” 

“No, no not at all,” she says. Only half a lie she thinks as she turns around and gives her confused friends a reassuring thumbs up and smile, “What’s up?” 

“Not much, just heading to bed and I was hanging with Calum, he did the you thing for the first time in a while,” Only kind of a lie, he thinks to himself as he eye’s their polaroid now balanced in the corner of a larger frame. He couldn’t force himself to toss it into another drawer to get lost with time, the same way he couldn’t ignore the way he felt all day. 

They’ve texted for months, catching up at odd times but the overwhelming feeling to hear her voice pushed him to call her after the day at the DMV. 

“The me thing?” She laughs, forcing him to elaborate just which odd habit he is referring to.

“The fidgeting thing-- bouncing on your heels.”

“I don’t do that,” She argues, planting both her feet firmly on the ground. 

“It’s not exactly the same but you gotta admit it’s pretty similar,” Ashton argues, he can picture her doing it now, holding her phone to her ear. 

“Whatever,” She breathes a laugh through her nose and with that Ashton can see the accompanying head shake. He tries to find an excuse to keep her on the line. Does he bring up the Polaroid? Does she remember that day the same? Did he make their afternoon melancholy up for himself, in search of an odd comfort? 

“I’m gonna need some proof here, Ash.” 

“Fine I’ll go get it myself.” Her scoff in response only eggs him on as he promises, “I’ll get a ticket back there right now.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Give me a few weeks. I’ll get the evidence myself.”

“Ok. You can show me,” a wave from indoors catches her eye, her friend beckoning her back inside to collect her things, “I gotta go Ash. It was great talking.” 

“Yeah it was. We’ll speak soon, yeah? I’m serious I’ll come up there and show you.” 

“Whenever you book that ticket, don’t forget a sweater. It sure as hell isn’t California warm here,” She jokes one final time before hanging up. 

 She can’t help the smile when she gets a screenshot of his flight. Almost two weeks to the day. Friday, November 15th. 

___

Two weeks fly, Vanessa thinks before she rushes out of work. So much for making it on time. Maybe the flight is delayed, just allow her a little buffer. It doesn’t feel real to be picking him up. Excitement and anxiety is all she can feel as she dumps her work supplies onto the passenger seat and hits the road.

A bit of relief hits her as she sees the sign at the gate. Two minutes to spare, she laughs at herself as she pauses at the loading zone. She spent an afternoon cleaning her apartment, forgetting her car but it’s too late now. 

“Is this my Uber?” The voice is all too familiar, her heart skipping a beat as she looks over to the passenger window. His skin tanner than she remembers but the smile, it’s always stayed the same. She opens her door with a shriek, running around the car, and into his arms. 

“Ashton!!!” She shouts into her chest. Her heart beating so hard he can probably feel it himself.

“Hi,” he breaths her in planting a small kiss to the top of her head. She feels smaller than he remembers but then again maybe that’s just a sign that too much time has elapsed. 

“Welcome back,” She laughs. Unable to shake the smile on her face as she bypasses the city and begins their drive to her apartment. 

He stares openly, unable to believe how much more he’d missed her. In the car, things feel simplified. She doesn’t face his stare until they’re at a stoplight. 

“What?” She gives him a true smile, showing her teeth and he knows he booked the right ticket to visit her.

“Nothing. This place has been good to you,” He’s unsure what it is but she’s different. 

“I think you’re just falling for the look of a real autumn,” She brushes aside her compliment as her eyes return to the road. Her stomach does a backflip as she ignores his eyes. 

A feeling of regret rears its head as she’s tempted to reach out and hold his hand. Her brain is all shaken up as she tries to focus on the tales from LA. Traffic is and she’s grateful for it.

They get back to her apartment right before sundown, her entire apartment illuminated by the lazy afternoon sun. Ashton’s been here a thousand times but with his time away, its familiar feel isn’t fully there. As his eyes sweep her living room, he sees that the same milk crates hold her records but the tables above it are now natural wood, matching the rest of her furniture. Her apartment looks more streamlined from its previous Craig’s List used furniture charm. 

“You can put your stuff on the chair,” She points to a corner of the room, it’s apparent the chair’s been cleared of her own pile of miscellaneous clothes in preparation for him to visit. The entire living room gave a feeling of a deliberate organization that it never gave him before. 

Ashton tosses the duffle bag onto the chair and pauses at the same bookshelf from years ago, he recognizes some of the book titles and peruses the new ones before a new picture frame catches his eye. He holds his breath recognizing it as nearly the same picture he’s been carrying in his glove compartment for months. The pair to the one that now lives on his mantle at home. 

He knows he can’t toe the line with her anymore, the unknowing drowning him this time around as he gently calls, “Nessa?”

[ziracona]

Dwight/Jake wedding headcanons maybe? They deserve it.

For sure!

It’s a couple years down the road. They’ve been living in the Indiana house with Adam, while the others orbit in and out from Springwood and Lockport and Haddonfield and Indianapolis and Bloomington and New Jersey and Missouri and New York and such every few days. It’s peaceful and fun there for them. Woods, big house, familiar smells and people and memorobelia and Ron’s grave and markers added nearby for Vigo and Alex and Lisa and Sujan and the person from the lab with no name and the survivors who came before them and never got to be buried. It’s home. They’re just chilling, Dwight and Jake talking with intent but also very relaxed about something while Adam edits a sequel in his easy chair, deep in edit mode, when Jake calls over, “Hey Adam, do you want to be a best man, or do you want to marry us?”

Which Adam hears the wrong homophone for for a second and almost takes him out before he realizes they meant the other version of ‘marry’ and remembers how to breathe again.

He stutters out a, “Well, I, uh—I mean, I can do whichever you’d prefer, but I’m not ordained. In. Anything. I know I did Min and Nea’s, but—”

“—Yeah, we know, but we just need it to be legal,” Jake shrugs, “and we don’t want a stranger at the wedding period, so someone’s getting ordained.”

“I think you can get ordained online in like an hour,” adds Dwight helpfully, “and we’re not religious either, but—and now that I’m saying this it was Meg so that means I should make sure becuase sometimes her memory for numbers is uhhh bad, but she told me like a week ago you only need ten people to officially get your new religion recognized. And we could be ‘the survivors’ or something. I don’t know I believe in much, but I believe in that.”

Jake nods. “Whatever is true, this group of people can rip a hole in the fabric of the universe for each other. I’d ascribe to that.”

“I kind of like that,” says Adam, “I would too. But if we have a spiritual ‘leader’, wouldn’t Ace be a better choice than me? Or Jane?”

This is considered a good point and they debate between Adam, Jeff, Tapp, Jane, and Ace for a bit, [Philip is also briefly considered, but they realize just as fast he’d be overwhelmed and stressed by having to do it & mercifully swap him to another role], then decide on Ace, who’s always been the kind of...not exactly dad, not exactly uncle, but not not those things, and certainly some kind of an early spiritual or morale core for them, parentish figure, and a comfort and hope leader for them all. Also, they know he’ll get a fkn kick out of being ordained for this.

Dwight takes Quentin as his Best Man, Claudette his Maid of Honor, and Jake takes Nea as Matron of Honor, Andrew as Best Man, and Meg as Maid of Honor. They decide fuck it, and it’s kinda Parks & Rec (an argument used by and against Jake many times the next few weeks) anyway, and also both take Adam and Philip as Best Men because fuck it, it’s too hard and also wedding rules are arbitrary and made to be broken, and so then Jake adds Kate as a bridesmaid, Dwight adds Laurie, they realize the number of survivors is dwindling dangerously and decide fuck it, our wedding is for us might as well be fkn weird and cool, and add David, Min, Tapp, Jane, Jeff, and Laurie as groomsmen and bridesmaids too. This still leaves Michael, Anna, Sally, Benedict, Susie, Jeff’s three Legion kids, and everyone’s families which is like fkn a lot of people, to be audience party (sans Nancy, who is pleaded with to be wedding party and run the music pre-reception because the number of people that they want involved /and/ who won’t give in to or be tricked by Meg into some kind of terrible flash mob stunt is very small, and in fact, basically is just Nancy. She is happy to do it and thinks their desperate reasoning is hilarious).

They break the news to Meg and Claudette and Ace first (after Adam), ask Ace to marry them, and tell Meg she can run post-weddding/reception music however she wants, except the songs for a couples dance & parent dances. She is /thrilled/. Claudette is very happy and cries. They call up Quentin & Nea to add to the conversation and Jake says Nea and Meg and Susie are in charge of setting up the wedding because he knows they’re gonna fight him for the role anyway, but they have to throw whatever they can together with only the stuff they own already and $50, they want only family & the other survivors/their families at the wedding, the service short and sweet, and to have it at the cabin, by the river. Meg loses her mind with indignance and joy together, and goes buckwild. They hit thrift shops for fairy lights and streamers and more.

Everyone is thrilled to be asked, Jane says “about time,” and Philip can’t think of anything to say and gets overwhelmed emotionally and taken off guard to be asked to be a groomsman. It’s sweet. Everyone with fashion sense takes everyone else shopping or through their wardrobes for fun wedding clothes and to at least have accent pieces that match a color theme. (Complimentary blues, yellow/gold, and pinks to the grooms’. More on that). It’s super fun & they make a fashion show of it. There’s no matching in form, just color, which is just the best version anyway there’s really no goddamn reason to spend thousands of bucks on a wedding when you could just have a funky cute good time with the people who love you & no stress.

Jake picks a deep blue hanbok (bc the hottest Jake I’ve ever seen is the one @eggchef did for lunar new year & the note in the tags about an actual hanbok has been banging around in my head ever since), and when they’re going through stuff for Dwight, he comments a pink one is surprisingly nice because it’s not the color he’d expected to think about, and Jake remarks offhand that if they do deep blue and pink they’ll be stealing their girls’ looks, and the second he says that, they both know there’s no other choice now. Dwight gets a light pink suit and a tie that matches Jake’s blue. They’re adorable and both look exceedingly handsome.

The wedding is short and perfect. Ace does a great job, it’s a nice day, and Meg works wonders with her $50 budget and (notably obscenely large) preexisting store of party supplies, + help from her mom who is passing down the legacy of being the best tiny budget party planner on earth. It’s very open, but with near arches and dangling glass and prisims that cast rainbows everywhere, lots of meaningfully chosen for their blessings and symbolism flowers and flower chains from Claudette. It’s a little reminiscent of the birthday decorations Min and Nea did plus the prisims, and that accidentally makes all the survivors super emotional like 1 minute in.

Only the moms get to speak in the wedding (besides Ace and the grooms), and Andrew and Meg and Nea and Quentin and such all gotta save their roasts for the reception. It’s sweet. Ace knows them super well and it shows in the best way. The grooms write their own vows, and both echo their statements in the hatch tunnel without knowing the other was going to do so too. Jake starts with an “I am deeply, unendingly, ridiculously in love with you,” and Dwight brings in a, “I wouldn’t be who I am without you.” They end it with Dwight saying, “Will you still stay with me, now that it’s all over? Through whatever we’re thrown to next?” And Jake replying, “Wherever you go, I’ll always follow.”

I cry.

The reception is a party by the house. It’s just a huge prepared buffet made by the family who can cook, so no one has to sit and wait. Meg starts the music with Cascada’s Evacuate the Dance Floor because she doesn’t “want to see people dragging their feet like a bunch of fuckin weenies, I want asses on that dance floor!” There’s a lot of 90s and early 2000s pop, but also many many classic dance songs. Lots of ABBA. Lots of it. Everyone has great fun. Min, Nea, Susie, and Meg made the playlist, except for a few of the specific dances. Muriel Fairfield’s mother-son dance with Dwight is to Song For Ten by Neil Hannon because he knows she’s a sweet big emotional nerd and it’s the song she wants, and he’s willing to do it, and she sobs and is a mess but also the happiest she’s been since the day she got the call he was alive.

They have literally zero idea where they’re going when they drive off for a honeymoon. They’re like “Uhh so I’ve been looking at our complete and utter lack of wedding structure and planning as a good thing? But we might have overstepped that a little here....”

Dwight drives while Jake searches the web for LGBT safe honeymoon locations because there’s nothing that would ruin a trip more than that not working out, and reads off a list and Dwight is like, “Wait wait holy fuck, I though you meant what US cities or maybe Canada. Switzerland? Do we even have cash for the plane fare somewhere like that?” And Jake just looks at the page silently for a few seconds, shuts the laptop, and without expression says, “...I really hate this, but I’m gonna let myself be a rich boy, just once.”

They take Andrew’s jet to New Zealand (Jake calls him and listens for 2 minutes then just monotone goes “Okay but you owe me for being a dipshit for fifteen years,” and they get the ride). Jake picks a relaxed pace and some scuba diving, some hikes, but no overnight camping. Lots of just seeing the world and holding hands and grinning at how absolutely breathless and shocked Dwight is at every chunk of nature like nothing he’s seen before. They are disgustingly, blissfully happy.

[babygreenlizard]

i follow a lot of your blogs and you're a writer, right? what's your thoughts on omegaverse/abo and werewolves? do you have any of your own headcannons?

Thank you, Anon! I am, to a certain point, I could by no means make it an actual career, but yes I do love to write!

And you just opened a big can of beans with this ask, lol. I'll leave the whole thing in the cut below. If anyone has any questions at all, don't be afraid to send them in!

Omegaverse and ABO have always been um, iffy, to me. I like the idea but everyone tends to take it too far or is just too ridiculous - and this comes from a woman who enjoys crackfics like candy.

They usually end up enforcing and justifying sexism in some way that usually ignores or insults the trans/queer/genderfluid/agender/etc communities. It's not very inclusive and Stephanie Meyers essentially started all this. Her shit writing and racism and lack of any knowledge have fucked up an entire generation, my generation.

I actually have 2 universes, kinda; Shifters-verse and Ancestry-verse.

Shifters are your werewolves and Ancestry is more of how one's genetics or bloodlines affect just how feral/animal you are. These universes are more open for queer/LGBTQ/trans/agender communities.

We can start with the Shifters-verse,

Ruts don't happen! Wolves or canines don't go into ruts (IRL), that's for deer/moose/elk, not wolves and that's the biggest click-off for me when it's applied to werewolves.

Heats do happen but it's a twice-a-year thing, the rest are more like periods. A once a month for a week, the order of how they happen can be different for everyone. Someone can have 2 heats in a row or 1 in January and the other in August, it doesn't matter.

Ranks aren't a thing like in other works. Alpha/Beta/etc are not secondary genders, they're not.

Ranks follow more along with a family dynamic. Like you have the parents or dad/mom friend/s, so on and so forth. I'll use an example.

When I write my BBSxABO-verse, Brock is the Alpha/Mom/Parent, essentially making them the leader.

But, he doesn't make choices by himself, it's a family dynamic which means he asks everyone for their opinion and then they cast a vote if needed.

And these ranks can easily change, they're not permanent.

One can be a part of multiple packs! E.I; Smii7y has 7 different pack marks, 1 for each group he plays with.

Marks are bites and can vanish? fade? when the connection with the pack is broken.

Everyone has one scent, the idea that someone has multiple scents is hard especially when others write a wolf's scent with 2 things that don't go together cause they have never smelled it themselves.

E.I, Aleasha Brayer from my BigBang alternate universe smells like Peaches or Chloe Andrews from my Criminal Minds/H5O/NCISLA universe smells like raspberry tea.

Ancestry-verse, this one is a bit more controversial and way more fantasy ironically, so I don't use it often.

There is no shifting.

The closer or more animals in your genetics the more animal you are.

For example; with my H50xAncestry-verse, Danny Williams has fewer animals in his history, thus he doesn't have as many animal/wolf qualities compared to Steve McGarrett.

Scents and orders and ranks don't affect Danny the same way it does others. It's why he butts heads with Steve a lot more and calls the other out on his bullshit or trauma.

Steve on the other hand is significantly closer to his animal roots, which is why we see him do dangerous feats to catch the bad guy, and can be irrational and impulsive at times. Doesn't like to be vulnerable.

Steve is more likely to follow ranks and orders, hence the Navy part of his life. It's actually encouraged more In-Touch people to enlist in the military.

There are no ruts here either.

Heats don't happen either. Just regular periods.

Ranks are more prominent depending on ancestry.

Examples; H5O is a pack and follows the ranking system, not as extreme as say Criminal Minds or the NYPD in Blue Bloods.

The Family Dynamic is more of a focus. (god I'm a sucker for found family)

Everyone has one scent and depending on how much animal runs your blood depends on how strong you can smell it and how much it effects you.

I probably have more and I'll add to this list when I write more with these universes.

[iam93percentstardust]

Sense of Memory and Desire

So @ad1thi and I were talking yesterday about this post and, well, I’d say my hand slipped but honestly, I’ve wanted to write this for a while.

Rated M

No powers AU//featuring Tony and Steve approximately the same age//also featuring Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker:

Gucci calls Tony first. 

They’re doing an ad campaign, they say. For a perfume inspired by alphas and omegas, they say. They want him to be the omega, they say. Tony knows how these perfume ads work. They’re meant to be sensual, hinting this could be you with a strong alpha or a sweet omega on your arm. They usually come off as oversexualized, almost tacky, instead. But they describe it to him and it sounds tasteful. They tell him who the photographer is and Tony’s knows him only by reputation but also knows that as an omega, he will make it sensual and not tacky.

Tony says, “Sure. Why not?”

And that’s when they spring the big one on him: they want him on the verge of heat, no more than a couple hours away, for the extra sparkle to his eyes, the youthful glow to his skin, the aura every in-heat omega exudes that says come here.

He could probably say no. But he doesn’t, too intrigued by the thought of how the ad will turn out. Instead, he asks, “Who’s the alpha?”

They name him a model. Tony’s worked with him before, even slept with him once back in college. He likes the guy well enough. For an alpha and a model, he’s surprisingly down to earth. If it were any other ad, or at any other time for that matter, he would be perfectly okay with it. But he’ll be close to his heat. That makes things different.

“You need to ask Steve,” he tells them.

They dither.

“Steve,” he says flatly, “or I’m walking.”

They agree.

~

The thing is, Steve is almost never possessive. 

Tony met the man who would one day become his alpha at a benefit Stark Industries was throwing to support and honor veterans. Steve had been a captain in the army—although Tony suspects he was a special sort of captain, judging by the deference often demonstrated towards him. They had met and talked most of the night; Tony had been smitten by the time they finally parted. He’d left Steve with a phone number and a plea to call though he’d fully been anticipating that someone like Steve would want little to do with someone like Tony.

Steve surprises him though by calling him when he’d walked literally two steps away. Tony had turned, a little in awe that Steve was that eager. They ended up going out for burgers that same night and then finally back to Tony’s penthouse where Steve had placed a hand on his lower back, drawn him in, and kissed him sweetly before taking his place on the couch.

It had been like that for months, fun dates and sweet kisses, incredible conversations that kept Tony wanting more, wanting to burrow into Steve’s life and never leave. The lack of sex had worried him though until Steve told him he was waiting for Tony’s heat, an old-fashioned, charming idea that left him melting like chocolate in the sun. 

And Steve had been sweet and wonderful and not at all possessive—until the week leading up to Tony’s heat, when he’d turned jealous and growly and eventually, Tony had locked them both in his penthouse. Steve had apologized for it once, after Tony’s heat had broken, when he’d still been tied to his alpha. Tony had kissed the apology from his lips, rolled his hips up into Steve’s knot, and wailed when Steve flipped them back over to drive his knot deeper into Tony’s willing body.

Steve is just like that before Tony’s heat and Tony loves him for it. No one else has ever wanted him enough to treat him like he was something to be treasured, something to be guarded jealously and kept away from the world.

Letting another alpha touch him, Tony staring up at him with the same adoration he reserves for Steve, ranks at the top of the list of bad ideas.

~

Happy ends up being the one to drive them to the photoshoot. Gucci had been willing to send a car, had even been discussing it with Tony over the phone when Steve had ripped the phone out of Tony’s hands and growled, “No,” into it. And that had been that. Tony doesn’t blame him. He knows how many pheromones he’s putting out right now. Steve had once described his scent as oranges and chocolate, an intoxicating scent at the best of times but when it’s as dialed up as it is before heat…

Well, this isn’t the Dark Ages. Tony doesn’t need to worry about being jumped by rabid alphas but he does turn heads everywhere he goes. Steve doesn’t like that.

They pull up to the studio a couple hours before the shoot for hair and makeup. Steve offers a hand to help Tony get out of the car. It’s something that Tony doesn’t usually like but he adores being pampered in the days leading up to his heat so he takes it and lets Steve lead him into the building. 

The photographer greets them in the lobby, right by the front door. “Peter Parker,” he says, holding his hand out first to Tony and then to Steve to shake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers. Right this way.”

They walk down the hallway, Parker chatting the entire way. As they near the studio entrance, Parker’s steps slow. “I’m really sorry about this,” he says apologetically. “Gucci insisted we bring in the other model just in case Captain Rogers doesn’t work out.” He sounds sincere, which is why Tony stops Steve from moving forward. Parker eyes the two of them, at Tony wearing Steve’s oversized clothes so he’s practically swimming in his alpha’s scent, at the fire in Steve’s eyes at the very thought of another alpha seeing his omega like this, and grins. “I didn’t think we would need him so I sent him to a different shoot in the building.”

“What are you sorry for then?” Steve rumbles. Tony shivers. He loves it when Steve sounds like this. It makes him want to wrap himself in Steve.

Parker pauses with one hand on the doorknob. “He made it into the studio before we could stop him so the room might smell a little like him. But he was the only alpha on set, I swear. I don’t like it when other alphas besides my mate are near me when I’m in heat and he really doesn’t like it so I made sure to hire only betas and omegas.”

“Thank you,” Tony says quietly, appreciating the courtesy. Parker nods reassuringly at him and opens the door. 

There is the slightest hint of another alpha in the room but it’s almost entirely overpowered by the omega staff members. Even so, Steve growls under his breath, only stopping when Tony puts a hand on his arm.

“Just focus on me,” Tony murmurs. “My scent is the only one that matters.” And as he gets closer to his heat starting, his scent will start to overshadow everyone else.

Steve is led away by a couple makeup artists. As he goes, he turns his head so that he can see Tony, keeping his eyes locked on him until Tony eventually has to follow Parker to his own team.

Parker flits off to set up the camera and the lights, leaving Tony in his team’s very capable hands. They start by making him take off his shirt. Tony whines a little, not wanting to lose his alpha’s scent, but they let him keep the pants so he settles. 

“They’re hot,” one of them says, eyeing the way they ride low on his hips. “You wearing your alpha’s pants and all. Peter might even want a couple pictures like that.”

The other one hums her agreement but doesn’t look up from the eyeshadow she’s applying to Tony’s eyes. It’s something dark and a little glittery and he would probably feel ridiculous if it hadn’t been for the dark background he can see behind Parker. The eyeshadow will probably look fantastic against that. She moves on to the eyeliner, drawing a skillful wing shape that leaves Tony marveling at her steady hand. He’s got a steady hand as well, kind of has to as an engineer, but he’s pretty sure he couldn’t pull off what she’s doing. She finishes with a coat of mascara and then moves on to lipstick, a deep red shade that makes Tony feel silly until he looks up at where Steve’s sitting and sees the way they’re highlighting the five o’clock shadow he’s got.

Steve’s eyes are dark and hooded as he looks back at Tony, promising filthy things as soon as they get home. Tony clenches his thighs together and whimpers. He wants his alpha now. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?

“Ooh yeah,” the makeup artist says. “If I had an alpha looking like that looking at me like that, I’d be getting wet too.”

Tony doesn’t blush but only because he reminds himself that he’s an omega with years of experience behind him. He wears that experience incredibly well for someone nearing middle age—money talks when he’s hiring personal trainers—but he still has too much experience to be blushing about a lewd comment.

“You two ready?” Parker calls and Tony stands, walking over to join him. 

Steve catches up to him about halfway across the room, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist and pulling him into his side. Steve is shirtless as well, radiating body heat and making Tony luxuriate in the skin contact. 

“You look good,” he murmurs. Tony throws him a questioning look. Steve always thinks he looks good but there’s something about the way he says it that’s different. “When we get home, I’ll show you exactly how much I like it.”

Tony hides another whimper.

Parker is grinning at them when they join him. “Save it for the camera, guys,” he tells them but doesn’t seem too put-out by their flirting.

He gestures at the backdrop behind him. It’s a dark grey piece that’ll probably look black after post-production but likely photographs better than a pure black piece would. There’s a small set of steps that Parker ushers them over to.

“I really want to emphasize the size difference here so we’re going to start with Steve on the top step and Tony on the bottom.” He waits until they’re standing in place before he starts making adjustments. “Tony, move a little bit closer. Steve, I want your hand on his lower back. Tony, can we try you wrapping your back hand around Steve’s neck?”

He snaps a couple shots and then shakes his head. “Actually, lower that hand again.” Another couple pictures. “Look up at him for me, Tony. Tilt a little towards him, Steve. He should practically be supported by you. You’re the only thing holding him up.” Steve moves so that their chests are almost entirely pressed together, parting just a few inches on the side closest to the camera. “Yeah, that’s perfect. I want to get a natural feel for the two of you so feel free to talk, move your heads maybe a little bit but don’t actually move from those spots, ‘kay?”

Steve lowers his head so that his lips are brushing Tony’s ear as he mutters, “I saw what’s under those pants you’re wearing. Are you trying to kill me?”

Tony smirks. “Not at all. Just teasing a little, you know how it is.”

“Is that what you want, sweetheart? Want to tease me?”

Looking up the way he is, Tony can see the heat in Steve’s eyes. He shivers and presses closer to Steve’s chest, craving the touch. His heat will be starting soon. He can feel it creeping up on him, his hole starting to slick up and loosen.

“Maybe I’ll take you home, tie you up, tease you for hours. How does that sound?” Steve taunts. Underneath that, Tony can hear the shutter clicking away but he can’t concentrate on anything but the words Steve is whispering in his ear. “Shove a vibrator inside your pretty hole and let you scream. Bet I could make you come at least twice just from that. Maybe I’ll even draw it for you so you can see how pretty you look, fucked out and covered in your own cum. You want that?”

“Steve,” Tony whispers, eyes falling half-closed as he pictures it, Steve leaving him alone on the bed, one of their toys buzzing inside him, pressing against his prostate until he’s begging and overstimulated. It would be torture but oh god, what bliss.

Steve’s hand clenches and smooths out on his back, traces the dip of his spine, falls to cup his ass and pull him up tight against him. Tony’s mouth falls open in a low keen as his alpha’s thigh presses against his dick. He wants to ride him, wants to push Steve down and shove those pants off his hips, damn whoever’s watching.

“Perfect,” Parker calls, interrupting their moment. Steve snaps his eyes away from Tony and toward the camera, right as the camera goes off. Parker views the picture and lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Are we done?” Steve snarls, gently urging Tony’s hips into a rhythm against him.

“Must be closer than we thought,” Parker comments as Tony bites his lip against a wail threatening to escape. “Not quite done though. There’s two perfumes and they want two ads to go with it. So, for omega, we’re gonna have you switch places on the steps.”

Tony doesn’t like the idea of having to move at all but he obligingly tries to make his legs work. Ultimately, Steve and Parker end up having to move him while he only sort of helps.

“Sweet omega,” Steve croons into his ear as Parker positions them the way he wants. “You’re doing so well. Gonna reward you when we get home. Gonna wrap you up in our nest, keep you as full as you want.”

“Please,” Tony begs. He’s ready. He’s on the verge of his heat, teetering on the edge. God, Gucci better fucking like this because he’s never doing it again.

“I know, sweetheart. You’re so ready for me. You gotta hold on just a few more minutes though.” Steve’s strong arms are supporting him, forming a line against his spine to hold onto his shoulders. He’s done this before, when he’s deep inside Tony and wants to hold him in place. The memories make him shudder, one of his hands coming up to cup Steve’s head, holding him in place as Steve scents his neck, placing teasing, biting kisses along the length of his throat.

Through the haze of his heat, he hears Parker mutter, “Fuck, they’re gorgeous.”

He turns his face to smirk at the photographer. Gorgeous is right. He and Steve have been voted America’s hottest celebrity couple for the last five years in a row. Parker’s right to be jealous of what they have because no matter how good Parker’s alpha may be, Steve will always be better. It doesn’t matter how jealous Parker might be though. Steve belongs to Tony. 

The camera goes off right as he starts to turn, capturing an expression that’s blissful and heat-hazy and just a little bit smug.

“Alright, we’re good here,” Parker calls, voice a little high-pitched and nervous. “Can we get their shirts?”

The shirts are all but tossed at them. Somewhere in the back of Tony’s mind he recognizes how embarrassing this is. Heat is supposed to be something private between alpha and omega, not flaunted in front of a screen. The majority of his mind is too focused on Steve bundling him into his arms to care.

“I want to see those prints,” Steve growls as he sets off for the door, practically at a run, Tony cradled in his grasp like they’re once more newly bonded.

“Yep,” Parker agrees, looking anywhere but at the two of them. “Oh and Tony?” The pair stops just a few feet from the door. Parker lowers his gaze from the rafters to the two of them. A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face.

“Have fun.”

[alecmagnuslwb]

Year After Year

Read on AO3

1 Twenty

Zatanna stretches out along the couch her feet propped up on the coffee table a large magical tome in her lap. It’s nearing midnight and soon enough her birthday will be over and done with.

The morning had been so busy filled with her attempting to convince Nick that going out to search for a missing page from an ancient book that’s likely sitting in a dragon’s den was too dangerous. It wasn’t until Nick had stormed out ignoring her pleas, John kissing her on the head and following him out to ensure he didn’t get himself killed that she had even realized the date.

She’s never been big on birthdays; they’d been her thing with her mother and after her death she just stopped putting any sort of effort into them. This year was no different, she’s fairly certain she’s never told John when her birthday is and even if in his frequently spiraling state Nick does recall the date he’s likely not to acknowledge it at all.

Which works just fine for her.  

The door busts open Zatanna jumping up from the couch in defense mode immediately only to stand down upon seeing its only Nick. A single aged page in his hand, his jacket a little burnt around the edges.

“Got it,” he says roughly already heading for the stairs, likely to shut himself into his room conjuring and doing who the hell knows what until the wee hours of the morning. “Wasn’t dangerous, just like I said.”

“The fact you’ve been gone nearly 12 hours and look a little crispy says otherwise,” Zatanna shouts after him, Nick already halfway upstairs. “Where’s John?”

Nick waves a dismissive hand at the door he left wide open. “Stopped to run an errand.”

And then he’s disappearing around the corner his bedroom door slamming shut behind him. Zatanna flops down on the couch head in one hand and picking at her fishnets with the other. Her worry about John subsides while her worry about Nick increases. What a strange feeling it is to be falling in love while watching your closest friend/ex fall deeper into an obsessive magical hole that you can’t seem to stop him from falling into.

It’s another reason her birthday slipped her mind this year, she’s too busy losing Nick and holding onto John to focus on much else.

Zatanna runs a hand through her hair standing just as she hears footsteps nearing the brownstones door. John steps in a bouquet of flowers in his hands that he immediately attempts to hide behind his back when he spots her standing there.

“Hey, luv I wasn’t sure you’d still be up,” he says smile bright and feign confident, a classic John Constantine grin. She can’t help but smile back.

“You were gone nearly 12 hours after leaving to fight a dragon, of course I’m still up,” she says stepping closer and reaching up to run her fingers along the stubble on his jaw. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah,” he says shaking his head, a bit of ash falling from his hair. He reaches down tugging at his shirt. “Just a bit singed around the edges. Finding it took longer than fighting it.”

He sounds a little sad, the same sadness she carries about Nick’s behavior. They’ve talked about it before, what to do is still a question that hangs in the air and tonight it’s late, they’re both so tired and John is hiding a bouquet of flowers behind his back that she’s too curious about to broach the topic once again.

Zatanna places both hands on his chest, smoothing out his ruined shirt.

“So, what is that you’re hiding behind your back?” she asks tilting her head in a way she knows he finds adorable.

“Ah, that is a gift,” he says stepping back just enough so that her hands fall and the bouquet is held out between them. A gorgeous arrangement of lilacs and lavender, her favorites, just a little crushed at the top from where he’d briskly tucked them behind his back. “For you. Happy birthday luv,” he says urging her to take the flowers.

She does, smelling them and then cradling them in her arms.

“How did you know?”

John just shrugs a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

“I have my ways.”

Zatanna steps closer, bridging the small gap of space between them.

“Your ways, huh,” she says eyeing John suspiciously. “Your ways being you noticed my ID when I accidentally left it on your dresser the other night.”

John just chuckles reaching his hands out to pull her in by the hips, crushing the flowers between them.

“Maybe,” he says grin getting cheekier by the minute. “You look great in your photo by the way, clearly witchcraft considering your gorgeous but nobody looks that good on an ID.”

Zatanna snorts before whispering a quiet thank you.

“You don’t have to thank me, I just wanted you to have something, even if there is only about ten minutes left of the day and it’s not much. At the very least I’ll be making sure you get that much every year as long as you keep putting up with me. Promise.” he says rubbing circles into her hips with his thumbs. “Next year I’ll even bake you cake.”

2 Twenty-Three

“Thank you,” she says one last time bowing to the audience before her. She picks up a single rose at her feet smiling before heading back stage.

She passes by her crew a few high fives and congratulations on another successful show given as she goes. She hands the single rose to her favorite stagehand Mikey with a smile.

It’s another birthday in books, this one spent doing what she loves on the stage and hopefully ending in a warm bath with a large glass of wine.

“Ekat em emoh,” she whispers to herself once she’s closed the door to her dressing room and a swirling portal appears before her. She steps through already flinging her coat and top hat off as she enters the Zatara mansion.

She kicks off her clunky heels as she heads up the stairs passing by so many of her father’s left behind artifacts. She closes her eyes moving her neck back and forth to releases some tension, unlacing her corset as she steps into her bedroom.

“It’s your birthday and yet here I am the one getting a present,” a familiar sly voice startles her from the darkness.

“Jesus,” she says clutching a hand to her chest there’s only one person with the access to get past her wards but he surprises her all the same. She turns to see John leaned back in the chair by her vanity legs spread comfortably. A bouquet of lilacs and lavender rest in his lap, his grip on them loose.

“Well now I’m pretty sure that’d be taken as blasphemous if anyone upstairs heard you call me that,” John says that damn little smirk of his just visible in the moonlight.

“Sthgil,” she says waving a hand around the room. A swell of warm low-lit bulbs coming to life so she can see him more clearly. She goes back to unlacing her corset, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it all before. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” he says standing and getting a little closer as she slips on a Black Canary band t-shirt. “I haven’t missed your birthday yet, have I?”

He hasn’t, not since that first one. They’ve broken up since then, a mini reunion on her birthday last year mere weeks after he father’s death. John had shown up with a bouquet of flowers and a red velvet cake that tasted like beets and just held her all day. Blame and guilt flew out the window for that day, even if the cake tasted like shit.

They’ve been doing a lot of back and forth ever since then, but a few days ago Zatanna had heard whispers of John getting himself into some new spectacular shit and when he hadn’t called for help she assumed he’d be a no show today.

And yet here is, keeping his promise.

“Good point,” she says turning to face him. “Please tell me you didn’t bake a cake this year?”

John laughs, one of those big genuine laughs he so rarely does. All she can do is join along with him, the sound contagious.

“No, no cake,” he says handing her the flowers. “But just you wait I’ll be perfecting that one day, just need some more practice.”

She doesn’t think there’s a spell in this world that could make John Constantine a decent baker, but she appreciates the effort nonetheless. She sits the flowers down on the edge of her bed and folds her arms around his middle, he immediately holds her right back.

“How does a steaming hot bath and some wine sound to you?” she says voice slightly muffled from where she’s buried her face into his chest.

“Anything you want Zee,” he says rubbing his hands slowly up and down her back. “It’s your birthday.”

3 Twenty-Five

“Edolpxe!” she shouts pushing her hands out at the swath of demons before them. She regrets the choice immediately as a rain of demon guts and ichor spew back at her and her companions.

She shakes her hand out not that it does much good then attempts to wipe any goo from around her eyes and swallows once. And ugh, yup there’s some in her mouth. She spits out what she can in digust.

“Happy fucking birthday to me,” she grumbles under her breath.

“You okay Zatanna?” Andrew Bennet asks as he comes to stand beside her, covered head to toe in the same gunk she is. Boston, the lucky incorporeal bastard, floats up beside him a vision of cleanliness.

She nods, “Yeah, just in desperate need of seven or so showers and a giant bottle of mouthwash.”

Andrew huffs in agreement. Boston opens his mouth clearly about to say something that will no doubt drive Zatanna crazy about his clean state, but is cut off by a voice off to the side.

“So, I guess I’m late then?” John says, the purple bouquet of flowers she’s come to expect every year in one hand. “Or maybe judging from the look of you two, just in time.”

Zatanna rolls her eyes. They’ve been going strong for the last few months, had a dinner plan for her birthday tonight and everything. Just this once deciding to do a little more for the day outside of the walls of wherever she calls home, but of course he’d been running late for dinner and not answered his phone when a hoard of demons turned up in the alleyway behind the restaurant.

Luckily Boston and Andrew had answered her call.

“Naelc pu siht ssem,” she says the mess in front of and on them disappearing in a moment. Her mouth still feels gross, but she’s okay with that, kissing John with demon ichor mouth for not showing up on time seems like a good form of payback.

Andrew and Boston bid their goodbyes as she conjures up a portal for them then she walks over to where John stands leaning against the wall lighting a cigarette. He takes a long drag blowing the smoke out to the side before she gets within touching distance of him. She leans up immediately kissing him deeply.

“No offense luv, but you taste a bit like a demon’s asshole,” John says once she’s pulled back taking her birthday flowers from his arms. Well, she thinks, that’s what you get for being late.

She smiles sarcastically up at him. “And you taste like an ashtray,” she says plucking his cigarette from between his fingers and tossing it into a puddle by their feet stamping it out with the front of her tall steel toed heels for safe measure.

“You love it,” he says offendedly looking down at his lost cigarette.

“I love you,” she says pointedly, tangling their fingers together and tugging him along. “I tolerate that.” She flings her head back slightly to the puddle drenched cigarette. “Now come on let’s get dinner I need to get this taste out of my mouth.”

John chuckles as she pulls him along faster, “The ashtray flavor or the demon asshole taste?”

“Both.”

4 Twenty-Seven

“Got any big birthday plans?” Zachary asks as he packs up the last of his gear in a suitcase spelled to have no end.

Zatanna scoffs, “No, you know birthdays aren’t really my thing.”

“Except when Constantine’s here,” Zachary says, a hint of judgement in his voice. He’s not exactly John’s biggest fan, then again most people aren’t.

She ignores the remark patting Zachary on the shoulder as she passes by to grab something from the drink cart. Vegas is always a good time for shows, especially when she gets to see her cousin, but right about now she’s ready to grab a drink and then head home to San Francisco.

Just as she starts to pour whiskey into her glass a fiery portal comes to life next to the drink cart and Zachary jumps into defense mode, hands at the ready. Zatanna however just keeps pouring her drink. She recognizes that magic, feels the pull of it in the air and the scent of a specific brand of cigarettes lingering at the edges; this is no threat.

“Bollocks,” John says as he falls through the portal flat on his back, scrambling quickly to shut it. A decaying green and grey hand reaches out as he does, the portal severing it off as it closes. He falls back again spreading his legs so the hand doesn’t fall on him as it twitches on last time. He falls back to the floor in relief eyes shutting for a second before gazing up at Zatanna.

She takes a sip of her drink regarding him.

“John,” she says swirling the ice around in her glass.

He smiles up at her reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out a severely crushed bouquet of lilacs and lavender.

“Zee, these are for you,” he says reaching them up to her. She takes them, their fingers brushing, lingering for a few moments more than necessary.

They haven’t seen each other much over the past year since their last split not long after her twenty-sixth birthday. She stopped calling what they did breaking up, was it really a broken thing if eventually it always came back around whole? It’s to date the longest they’ve gone without being a couple officially or at least sleeping together at some point or another. Overall it’s been an odd year for them to say the least.  

They’d saved the world from an apocalypse, but it had cost them a member of their so-called Justice League Dark. A loss that Constantine had taken full blame for, so much so that he went to hell to make it right without telling Zatanna he was even leaving.

She’d almost mourned him, but somewhere in her soul she just knew he wasn’t dead, could feel that he was still alive. Life still had to go on though and back to San Francisco she’d gone. She dated Hal, a nice enough entertainment agent for a bit, but then one day when he witnessed John literally crawling up out of the floor of her kitchen bloodied and more defeated than he had been when he’d left their relationship had effectively ended.

She healed John that night tending to his wounds and holding his hands as the burn of the hellfire still running through his veins subsided. She was still mad as hell at him for the leaving the way he had, but this was who they were, how they worked. They were always there for each other when they needed no matter their status.

He’d left after that, this time telling her where he was going. She dated Monica for a bit and then John turned up with a real bonafide boyfriend named Oliver, not the one you’re thinking. For a moment in time they’d both been happy with other people and for the first time since the day they met Zatanna thought maybe they’d actually well and truly reached their end. The cycle finally come to a close.

But then Monica had accused her of always relying on John and never on her when she was in trouble and even when she wasn’t; then shortly after Zatanna paid a visit to John for help his relationship with Oliver ended abruptly. They both acted like the breakups timing were simply coincidence.

John made a vague reasoning about fucking things up as he always did and Zatanna spouting something about wanting different things, but they both knew the truth. Whether the main reason or not, the fact they were still in love with each other despite all the anger and history was far too clear for their partners to deal with any longer.

Things had been almost awkward between them after that. For months it’d been like they were avoiding talking about anything at risk of admitting they still cared.

If there was ever a birthday she expected him to skip, it was this one.

“I know you aren’t the type to cheat, but the way you two are looking at each other I feel like I should remind you that you have a boyfriend,” Zachary says not so quietly, breaking their staring contest.

Right, she does have a boyfriend. Detective Dale Colton is sweet and caring and doesn’t have a clue it’s her birthday because she never felt the need to tell him. She’s never felt the need to tell him a lot of things. Which should probably be very telling for her, not that she has time right now to unpack all of that.

“No worries there Zachy,” John says shortening the name just to annoy Zachary as he hefts himself up from the ground. “I’m not here for that, just keeping a yearly promise.”

Zachary glares at Constantine before returning his attention to Zatanna. He opens his mouth no doubt about to invite himself to stay and have a few drinks, but she cuts him off.

“Don’t you have a date?”

Zachary holds her eyes for a moment before sighing grabbing his bag and tossing a wave and a birthday salutation over his shoulder before heading for the door.

“Drink?” Zatanna asks John already pouring a second glass, anticipating his answer. “You know,” she says looking at the flowers she’s sat on the drink cart. “These are by far your saddest looking bouquet yet.”

John laughs a small sad thing as he takes the offered drink from her hand fingertips brushing once again.

“Well that’s the kind of year it’s been hasn’t it,” he says tossing back the whole drink.

She frowns reaching out to tug on his sleeve to get his attention.

“Maybe it’s due time we change that,” she says turning away and grabbing the whole bottle of whiskey and heading for the balcony. It’s her birthday dammit and all she wants is to be on real speaking terms with the man she often begrudgingly admits is probably her favorite person in the world.

They settle out under the warm Vegas night talking, really talking for the first time since he left for hell. As the night wanes on their laughter becomes a little less sad and everything around them starts to feel a little like forgiveness, like getting back on track. Damn near almost like friendship.

Not that they’d ever be friends. As Papa Midnite had once put it so bluntly after they’d said as such while bargaining with him, “You’ll never be friends. You’ll be in love till it kills you both. You’ll fight and you’ll fuck and you’ll hate each other till you quiver, but you’ll never be friends.”

They’d ignored him that night, but both were well aware they were kidding themselves if they tried to act like he was wrong.

“Happy birthday by the way,” John says after a while, mere seconds left till midnight. “I’m still working on mastering that cake.”

5 Twenty-Eight

Dinah waves and Ollie salutes as she heads for her room at the Justice League headquarters as fast as she can. She knows that Batman has detailed files about every member right down to what they sleep in every night most likely so no doubt birthdates were included. While she didn’t expect Bruce to be sentimental enough to try and throw a party or something, Dinah and Ollie had both seen a glimpse of her file and expressed an interest in celebrating the day.

She was fairly certain she’d talked them out of it, but she still wanted to get out of there before they changed their minds just to be safe.

She turns the corner to her room now, almost in the clear.

“You lot better be saving the world, if the League’s keeping you out this late.”

Zatanna flips on the lights revealing John lying in the center of the bed on his side like a fully dressed Playgirl model. The expected bouquet of flowers on the pillow near his bent arm.

“Supervillains don’t really stick to a 9 to 5.”

“That,” John says shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, “is why I like my demons, evil wizards and hell beasts they’re a late-night crowd. Interrupt your sleep, but never your dinner.”

Zatanna laughs sitting down beside him and picking up the flowers from the pillow.

“So that’s why you turned me down then? Dinner plans and time management?” she asks looking up from the fresh flowers and into John’s eyes. She’s been on the official roster of the Justice League for six months; she’d ask John to come with her and he’d refused. Convinced that his style would never be okay in the eyes of the capes and tights crowd.

They’re still dating despite his turn down, sort of. It’s complicated. Not the most complicated they’ve ever been by far, but still complicated.

He doesn’t say anything just smiles at her softly.

“So, I know you can get past my wards because I have you keyed into them, but how the hell did you get in here?” she says changing the subject.

John’s smile transforms into a classic Constantine smirk, winking as he pulls a card from his pocket handing it to her. Batman’s Justice League backup ID card.

Zatanna cackles, full out cackles.

“He’s going to kill you if he ever finds out you have this,” she says through gasping laughter.

John reaches out brushing the long dark hair that’s fallen into her face away, “Worth it.”

+1 Thirty

Zatanna pulls her hair up into a high ponytail stretching her neck out. After another great show and a successful mugging prevention she’s ready for a quiet rest of the night in her San Francisco apartment.

She’d moved late last year, tired of living in the Zatara estate all alone. Opting to keep it up and running for when she needs anything and as safe haven shelter to fellow magics in trouble whenever they might need it.

She’s comfortable in black leggings and a Nightwing crop top Dick had sent her as a joke that she wears to spite him constantly. She sits down in front of her vanity about to take her makeup off when someone knocks on the door.

She heads over pulling it open and there he is just like every year except early for once.

“John,” she says but he stops her lifting his hand to quiet her, index finger hovering over her lips.

“Wait just, three,” he looks down at the dented watch on his wrist. “two, one.”

“Happy birthday, luv,” he says looking back up just as it hits midnight the usual bouquet of flowers appearing magically in his hand.

She smiles, loving the consistency of this little ritual of theirs.

“Tup meht ni a esav,” she says waving her hand at the offered flowers. A clear, glass vase appears on the table beside her door the flowers delicately placing themselves inside floating up from John’s hand.

She reaches out pulls him in by his tie, leans up and kisses him hard. He responds immediately hands instinctively reaching under her thighs and lifting her up tight to his body. She wraps her legs around him kicking the door shut before he starts moving, carrying her into the bedroom.

He lies her on the bed removing his trench coat running his hands along every inch of her as he kisses her just right and just so slow. He pulls back something akin to worship and a look in his eyes that seems like he’s just made up his mind about something important. She doesn’t have time to think about it though because soon enough he’s moving down her body and she’s not thinking at all.

It’s hours before they finally leave the bedroom, somewhere in the middle of the night migrating out to the living room lounging on the couch. Zee’s propped up on pillows dressed in only John’s shirt that stops mid thighs with John lying between her legs in an old pair of sweatpants that she can’t be certain who they belong to, his back pressed to her chest.

A cheesy old sci-fi movie plays on the tv as John runs his fingers along her arms that encircle him. She watches as his black tipped nails play shapes of magical runes and charms along her skin.

She recognizes some of them, symbols of affection and protection. She thinks he might be getting openly sentimental the older they get.

It’s peaceful, content, it almost feels permanent. Thirty seems to be making her sentimental too, thinking about the future and all that.

“Shit,” John says lifting up suddenly. “I forgot!”

“Forgot what?” she says watching as he lifts up onto his knees, turns and scoots forward keeping his space between her legs.

“I’ve got another gift for ya,” he says bringing his hands together. “Learned a new trick just for you.”

He smiles saying a few phrases in Latin under his breath his hands slowly coming apart. Bright red magic swirls around them and slowly bit by bit a cupcake appears. It’s lush red velvet with a light cream cheese frosting and top hat shaped candle on top.

“I’m 98% certain this one won’t taste like beets.”

“98%?” Zatanna questions skeptically remembering the horrendous cake he handmade from many years ago.

“I’ve been practicing just like I told ya I would. Now, if you don’t mind,” he says gesturing to the candle.

Zatanna smirks. “Erif,” she says a small flame lighting up the tip of her index finger. She tilts it lighting the candle before holding it up to her lips and blowing it out, holding John’s eyes the entire time knowing exactly what this little trick does to him.

Lighting his cigarettes this way driving him wild has been a favorite past time of hers for a decade.

“Menace,” he grumbles before holding the cupcake closer to her. “Make a wish.”

She appeases him, closing her eyes and making it seem like she’s thinking up a good one, when all she’s thinking about is how good right now feels, before blowing out the little flame.

He pulls the candle from it offering it up to her and she takes a hesitant bite.

“It actually tastes like red velvet,” she says truly stunned, not caring that she’s talking with her mouth full.

“Told ya I’ve been practicing,” he says before taking a big bite of his own and flopping back down into his previous position pressed up against her.

“Only took you ten years,” she teases snatching the cupcake from him and taking another bite. He pinches her thigh lightly in retaliation making her giggle. They settle back in finishing the cupcake and making comments about the terrible movie onscreen.

“I’m gonna stay,” John says after a while. Zatanna hums, she’s starting to doze off the late hour and John warm against her leaving her just too comfortable to stay awake.

“For my birthday? I know. You always do.” She sleepily runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair twisting it when she reaches the ends.

“Well yeah, but not just for your birthday,” he clarifies. “I was meaning stay for a while. Here or in the House of Mystery until someone tries to steal it from me or the old Zatara mansion, lady’s choice really. I miss you Zee.”

Zatanna leans down pressing her face into John’s hair for a moment. “You mean that?”

He nods. “I can’t make any promises, fuck knows I’m shit at keeping them, but I want to stay. I want to do better by us. I want us to stay us. We’ve been at this for over a decade and it’s been made clear to me by just about everyone who’s ever met me that I need to get my shit together in at least one area of my life and I want it to be this one.”

Suddenly she remembers that look in his eyes before he’d cleared her mind entirely in the bedroom. The look that said he’d made up his mind about something. It was this. It was the decision to say all this out loud, to say what he wants and stay, really stay.

Zatanna nudges him to sit up, he gets the hint turning as much as he can to face her.

“I want you stay. I always want you to stay,” she says hand reaching out to rest her hand on a familiar tattoo on his chest, thumb brushing a scar she only just became acquainted with but knows she’ll end up memorizing the shape of. “And as for promises you’re better at keeping them than you think you are.”

She thinks of how he’s always a call away no matter what, how he’s never missed her birthday and how he even finally learned how to make an edible damn cake. He’s better than and at a lot of things than he thinks is.

He leans in kissing her soft and slow.

“I love you, Zee,” he says when he pulls back. “I don’t say it enough.”

“I know,” she says brushing a hand through his hair. “I love you too.”

He smirks leaning in for another quick kiss, just a press of lips.

“Say it backwards?” he says cheekily.

She rolls her eyes but does it anyway.

“I evol ouy.”

She kisses him again a quick hard press of lips sealing it like magic then leans over for the remote flipping off the tv. She maneuvers till she stands, holding out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” He takes her hand following her to the bedroom and in the morning she wakes with him wrapped around her. He makes a traditional English breakfast, vegetarian style just for her though it goes against every fiber of his English being and he stays.

Maybe she hadn’t made a real wish when she blew out that candle the night before, but it feels like something they’ve both been trying to get right for a decade came true anyways.