#they’re like a weird fucked up dog to me. it’s a shame that their husband died

[dexter-erotoph]

i havent mentioned how unreasonably happy i am about this….. id say im like one of eyes’ biggest fans i love them so much

[tripleaxeldiaz]

elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance. 

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand. 

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck. 

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out. 

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well. 

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

[spaceorphan18]

Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  

And then his alarm goes off.  

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  

“Ah.”  

Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  

“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  

Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  

“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  

He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  

Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  

Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  

Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  

Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  

She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”  

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  

“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  

And yet he did.  

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

[ichayalovesyou]

Why Does God Need A Starship? (Live Reaction):

I always thought Sybok was cool and interesting and NOW I’m sure! You know it’s times like these that I’m grateful I kinda came back into the Star Trek fandom on my own, because I don’t have to deal with Opinions of older/louder Trekkies. This one kinda has a lukewarm reputation but I’m getting the vibe that I’ll genuinely enjoy it.

Yet again Bones is serving up some LOOKS damn! Look at these elder gays! Spock has rocket boots, amazing. “Because it’s there” and then falling off the goddamn mountain is such a James Tiberius Kirk thing to do 😂 “HI BONES!” These guys omfg. OH MY GOD SO WE DO SEE CAITIANS OUTSIDE THE CARTOONS?? Hell yeah! Also pole dancing to no music, is... weird. Lmao. Also okay I’m sorry Sybok is cool! Sybok is cool and interesting and I really like him! (Not morally obviously dude is shady as all fuck, but a cool dude nontheless!) Always fascinated by Cult Leader type villains, especially when they point out valid criticisms about the society from which they came (important distinction is that the CAUSE is not vilified, but the person and their means, something M****l has largely forgotten)

Awww I may ship Hikura, but Uhura & Scotty are also cute as hell!! Awwwwwww!!!! Old married couples can be so freaking cute. Chekov & Sulu are LOST ohhhh my god this is hilarious, these two idiots. Also can we talk about how Koenig’s eyebrows are slowly gaining sentience and Takei aged like fine wine? Lol. THE HOLY TRINITY OF ELDER GAYS ARE CAMPINGGGG! I’m- oh my god they’re so cute. “Marshmelon” this is cute as hell oh my god. They’re indulging and messing with Spock at the same time I’m dead! They’re singing ohh my god this gonna give me cavities with how sweet it is!!!

This Klingon dude is frickin ROCKING the eyeliner! Bruhhhh was the frickin spotlight necessary! Leave the gays alone SHHHH they’re SLEEPING!! Lmao. Yo I’ll be real this movie starts incredibly slowly but I seriously do not mind, it’s relaxing to not have to worry about missing important details if you look away for a second, it’s nice. WAIT? Does Jim’s shirt say GOT MILK?!!? Oh no, it says go climb a rock, oh thank god [“fatty milkers” flashbacks]

Seriously McCoy is just radiating so much old southern lady/gay energy in this movie and I love it so freaking much “if you ask me (and you haven’t) this is a horrible idea” he sounds like my North Carolina living Meemaw. Wow you can see Spock low-key taking psychic damage from seeing Sybok 😲 V’tosh Ka’tur of the highest order huh? Still disturbing that his government literally cast him out, that’s a red flag 😬. What happened with Sybok is probably a lot of why Spock was pressured to be as Vulcan as he was, I’m sure Sybok was a massive scandal/shame for Sarek, and knowing him, he’d end up making that his kids’ problem not his 🙄

Oh neat!! Chekov is in the in the captain’s chair. Oh this is the song they replaced Nichols’s voice for 😤 but also GIRL THAT WAS BADASS AND THAT SONG WAS A BOP! Quick question, wow these “alien” horses are somehow even worse than the unicorn dog (also it’s a desert planet, wouldn’t it be better to have, like, alien camels or something?) This dude’s Klingon is freakin impeccable btw! He’s really got the vibe down! Jim did you forget how fuckin bananas strong Vulcans are??? Sybok went like 😡☹️ when Spock pointed that laser rifle at him 😂😂😂 again even tho I know Scotty and Uhura are married but it’s scenes like getting held hostage right there where they radiate such POWER COUPLE energy GAWD! 🤩

Stay out of this Bones we’re having a lover’s quarrel! Jim is taking fucking psychic damage from this entire conversation lol. Okayyyy whatever Sybok is doing is definitely some kind of mind control type thing, that shit is creepy af no thank youuuuuu (spores anyone?). Oh my god Spock & Jim are so married lmao, that “I’m sorry” Vulcan kiss in the brig man Aw. (Oh man Magic’s of mega-tsu got devani mixed by that comment lame!) SCOTTYYYYYY!! YAS!

Yay rocket boot glomp! Lmfao! Sybok needs to brush up on his earth history Columbus did NOT figure out the world is round 🙄 Ah Scotty being like “listen, you’re not okay rn so I’m not really down for whatever you think you wanna do right now it can wait until you’re right in the head again” and they could’ve not done that and it would’ve been creepy (especially by today’s standards) but they didn’t! And that was awesome!

Bones being skeptical and has every right to be! He’s faced down would be gods and would-be messiahs before! Also I’ve seen people judge Bones for being the first to cave but Sybok totally did that shit to him without consent! He didn’t go back on his beliefs, Sybok forced him to! BONES PROTECTION SQUAD IS HERE AND ITS ME! Oh Bones, man, poor babeyyyy (fuck Sybok!) 😭😭😭 OH MY GOD BONESSSSSS Sybok leave him alone! Goddamnit! Leave him alone!

I think Jim can see Spock’s Sybok induced vision cuz they’re ✨Bonded✨ (it didn’t seem like they could see Bones’s, other than what Bones was doing). JIM KNOWS SO MUCH BETTER! ITS HOW HE BEAT THE SPORES ITS HIS CORE! I UNDERSTAND AND LOVE HIM FOR IT!!! Spock 😍😍😍 he’s like, you’re bullshit happiness pill doesn’t work on me cuz I am whole for the first time in my life, and I love my husband, and I already learned my lesson decades ago 💚🖖🏻💚 (who knew how important the character development from This Side of Paradise AND Return To Tommorow would be??? Hell yeah!)

I love Scotty so much 🥰 hardcore badass Hufflepuff from beginning to end! Also I hope Sybok appears in SNW that could be really really interesting if they do it right! ITS GOD (derogatory) REVERE HIM! Oh here comes that legendary question!! “What dies God need with a starship?” Red flag don’t call Jim a creature! Oh shit god has laxer eyes oh no lmao! Bones snaps out of whatever Sybok did to him when ���God” hurts his friends and we LOVE HIM FOR ITTTT! Awww Spock & Sybok and be saaaaad, oh shit! Into the lightning to fight a mirror of yourself like Lazarus in that one episode!

OH SHIT THE KLINGONS ARE HERE! Oh damn Spock just swore a cuss the right way, at a Klingon General no less! General dude just went “caotain tell Kirk you are sorry!” LMAO! NOT IN FRONT OF THE KLINGONS 😂😂😂😍 KISS DAMNIT!! God this whole after scene is so good, maybe the god is the friends we made along the way. “I lost a brother once” you also lost SAM dummy, I know you were just telling Spock you love him but still. SHUT UP SPOCK IS PLAYING ROW ROW ROW YOUR BOAT ON HIS LYRE??

Okay, seriously, I unironically love this movie, it might be my favorite out of the ones I’ve seen so far actually. TMP felt like the movies getting their sea legs, but it was slow and messy, it wasn’t as thought provoking as it wanted to be (aside from Spock’s wonderful arc in that film). WoK & TSFS are amazing for drama and angst and Spirk content, but they weren’t really asking the big questions Star Trek is wonderful for. Then The Voyage Home is just plain silly and fun and wholesome. But this, this movie had depth! The whole premise is “what is god and is there is one?” I LOVE that as someone who has a very complicated relationship with spirituality. I also already loved the TOS episodes This Side of Paradise, Return To Tomorrow, The Omega Glory and The Way To Eden, and this movie had the best of those concepts! Sybok was such a fascinating antagonist/anti-hero and I hope we get to see him explored more on screen one day, even if it’s just through Discovery/SNW flashbacks. It may have started off slow and it’s not without its flaws but this felt like the Star Trekkiest TOS Star Trek movie so far!

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide stood underneath the water, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared at the black tiles of the shower wall, wondering how she would even be able to find someone to marry. 

The only viable suitors that would yield any sort of political power had to at least be lords, this she knew. Elide suppressed a shudder as she thought about the lords of Perranth. They were all decades older than her and, as demonstrated when she had to dance with them at her birthday, thought very little about personal boundaries. 

Most of them had spent the time staring at her tits and they weren’t subtle about it either. She panicked, thinking about what would happen if they insisted on her performing her ‘wifely duties’. 

She had voiced this concern with Aelin and Lysandra, her hands shaking when she told them. They had both assured her that there were other options for suitors and none of the bachelors she had danced with on her birthday met the requirements to be her husband. 

Elide turned around and tipped her head back under the shower, washing the shampoo out before lathering her long hair with conditioner. 

She stayed in the shower until the water became cold and wrapped her thick, fleece housecoat around her. The mirror was fogged. Elide sighed, rubbing her eyes, and used her sleeve to wipe a small circle in the middle. 

She frowned at the pallorness of her face, her hair clinging to her scalp like a soaked dog. With a sigh, Elide opened the cabinet and pulled out her haircare, plugging in her hair dryer. She combed through her leave-in conditioner and hair oil, making sure each strand was properly moisturized. 

Then, she sectioned her hair and blow-dried each part. She used her round brush so later, she wouldn’t have to spend so much time straightening it. Someone knocked on the door, a deep voice accompanying it, “El, can I come in?” 

“Yes, the door’s open,” she called back, knowing it was Rowan. He slipped in on near silent feet, the door clicking shut behind him. Elide swilleved on her vanity stool when he stayed at the door, a perfectly manicured brow arched. “What did you do?” 

“Why is that your first question?” 

She shrugged, drying the last section before she clicked the power button and put the tool to the side, letting it cool before she put it away. “You’re being weird. And you look guilty.” 

Rowan sighed, running his hand over his hair, sure to mess it up, “I know her nephew. We’re, uh… friends.” 

Elide blinked, “Friends as in you were classmates and grew apart or friends as in…” 

“Friends as in best friends and he’s my ex?” Rowan said, his voice higher than normal. “We grew up together and had a summer fling that turned into… not a fling and… yeah.” 

Elide frowned, “You grew up in Doranelle. How does someone from Doranelle have any claim over Perranth?” 

Rowan shoved off the door and sat down on the counter, kicking his toe into the floor, “His parents were divorced and shared custody. He spent half the year here and half in Doranelle, until his dad died.” 

Elide felt a pang of empathy for the man. The hurt of losing a parent was something that stayed with one for a while. “So… what’s he like?” 

Rowan let loose a dry chuckle, “He’s, uh, he’s something. Doesn’t talk much. Surprising sense of humour, he’s got a bit of a temper. Very blunt man, doesn’t take being lied to well.” A gentle, friendly sort of fondness washed over Rowan’s face. “I think you two would get along very well under different circumstances.”

Elide hummed, “So he’s a cranky old bastard like you, huh?” 

Rowan’s indignant scowl was answer enough. 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Against the polished floors, Elide’s heels clicked sharply as she walked down to the main foyer, where they were to greet Maeve and her nephew. 

She arrived after Aelin, Rowan, and Lysandra, who were all trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “So, is this appropriate to meet him?” she asked, turning around slowly for approval of her sleeveless, powder blue sheath dress. Elide propped her hands on her hips to pose, her hair shifting silkily over her shoulders. 

“You look wonderful,” Lysandra said, listening to something in her earpiece. “They’re here.” 

Elide curled her hands into fists, trying to quell her nerves. She tossed her glossy locks over her shoulder and flashed a dazzling smile, “Well, then. It’s time.” She sat down in an armchair, crossing her right ankle behind the left. 

Aelin sat in the chair next to hers, reaching over to squeeze Elide’s hand. “It’ll be ok.” 

“I know,” Elide said, her heart rate speeding up as Rowan walked across the hall to greet them. 

He was tall, she could tell that much, but Rowan’s build hid him from her view as they clasped hands and spoke quietly. Maeve walked in after her nephew, and Elide stood, dusting off her skirt. 

Aelin stood as well, wearing a professional smile as she took Maeve’s hands and kissed her cheeks, “Maeve, it’s nice to see you again.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, your Majesty.” Maeve turned to Elide, bowing her head the slightest bit. “Lady Lochan, you look lovely.” 

Elide smiled tightly, shaking Maeve’s hand, “As do you, Ms. Nathair.” As much as she loathed the woman, Elide couldn’t deny she had impeccable taste and she wore the clothes beautifully. 

Maeve nodded primly, half-turning to beckon her nephew to her, “I’d like to introduce my nephew, Lorcan Salvaterre.” 

He stepped up and Elide felt her jaw drop. He held her gaze as he bowed to Aelin, “Your Majesty.”

Aelin recovered from her shock faster than Elide, “Hello, Lorcan.” Elide didn’t hear what else her cousin said. She felt her cheeks burn, a combination of anger and embarrassment. 

She- 

He danced with her, saved her from Lord Bigge. And she had slapped him. Her vision went red as his lips twitched with a small smirk and she regretted ever wishing for the feeling of them on hers. 

Lorcan bowed to her as well, “Sweetheart.”

Without thinking, Elide raised her hand and slapped him hard, across the face. A sick sense of satisfaction raced through her when his head snapped to the side and a bright red handprint was left on his cheek. She turned on her toes, quickly walking towards the kitchens. That fucking asshole. 

Shocked cries left everyone’s mouths. As she turned the corner, Elide glanced back, seeing him wave Rowan off. He worked his jaw, chuckling quietly. Lorcan’s dark gaze flicked to hers, “She always does that.” 

Elide thought she deserved an award for restraining herself and not flipping him off. She fled to the kitchens, slinking around the staff. There was a tray of cookies and she snatched one up, quickly regretting it as she learned just how fresh they were. 

She carried it quickly to the back table and dropped it, blowing on her fingertips. Elide slumped into a seat, not bothering with correct posture as she broke off pieces of the cookie and ate them. 

She glared at the opposite wall of the nook, hoping the palace would catch on fire and Lorcan would be crushed beneath a burning beam. 

Elide savoured her cookie. It wouldn’t be long until someone came to find her. She was embarrassed. He had known who she was the entire time and- and what? Danced to play with her, to toy with her emotions? 

One of the kitchen staff slid a plate her way, piled high with cookies. Elide smiled, her foul mood lifting the slightest. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, miss,” the young boy said, quickly returning to his task. 

Not long after, Aelin burst in, her eyes wide, “Elide! What the fuck was that?”

Elide sulked, muttering, “I’ve met him before.” 

Aelin slid onto the bench across from her, “When?” 

“At the ball,” she whispered, her throat growing tight. “He’s the guy I…” Elide felt so stupid. It must’ve been some joke to him and his aunt. 

“Ah,” Aelin said. “Your mystery man.” 

Elide nodded glumly, crossing her arms petulantly. “Yes.” 

Aelin was silent for a few moments, chewing on her bottom lip in concentration. “As the queen, I can’t condone you physically harming your royal opponent.” 

“But?” 

Aelin grinned wickedly, a feisty gleam in her eyes, “As your cousin, I say beautifully done.” Uncertainty flashed across her face, “What did he mean by ‘she always does that’?” 

Her cheeks flushed and Elide looked down at her lap, “Um, I might’ve accidentally hit him when I was ranting to Lyss?” She nervously glanced up at Aelin. “Please don’t make me apologise.” 

“Never,” Aelin said, “but we do need to return. Maeve has gone mad.” She stood up, her honey-gold ponytail swishing gently. Elide reluctantly stood up and looped her arm through Aelin’s, leaning her head on her cousin’s shoulder. “Personally, I would’ve gone for a kick in the balls, but a slap works just as well.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Bright, pealing laughter echoed throughout the hall and Lorcan tensed. Rowan shot him a warning look, telling him to keep his shit together and not antagonise Elide any further. 

His aunt was muttering something about Elide’s impropriety and how she would be having a talk with Vernon for accosting her nephew like this. Lorcan decided it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tell his aunt Elide slapping him was the highlight of the trip so far. 

He hadn’t meant to dance with her on her birthday, but she had looked like she needed help. Lorcan hadn’t missed the way that sweating lordling had pawed at her. And he hadn’t meant for it to feel like… that. 

He hadn’t meant a lot of things. 

Aelin and Elide appeared, the former shooting him a halfway apologetic smile. He could see right through it, knowing Aelin was bursting with pride for Elide. 

When his eyes slid to Elide, she turned her head, but her cheeks pinked when he continued to stare at her. She finally snapped and sent him a glare that could freeze Hellas’ fiery realm. Anger acted a veneer to shield the humiliation shining in her eyes, but Lorcan read it easily, a slight note of shame tightening his chest. 

He really was a bastard. 

“Please excuse us for the mishap,” Aelin said, patting Elide’s hand. Lorcan stifled the urge to roll his eyes, the look on Elide’s face confirming it was anything but a mishap. “Lorcan, we’d like to invite you to stay with us at the palace.” 

Elide’s eyes widened and she stiffened, shooting him another dirty look. Just because he could, just for that rush he got when she paid him any attention, Lorcan winked at her, “I’d love to, your Majesty.” 

Aelin smiled innocently, “Wonderful. We’ll send our staff to help you with your bags.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide stewed silently in the foyer as Aelin and Rowan saw their guests out. The minute the door closed, Elide cried, “Why would you do that?” 

Aelin placated her, “Ellie-Boo, it’s to our advantage. We could never keep tabs on him if he was staying over in Maeve’s manor. This way, we can figure out their plan and stop it.” 

Feeling like she had gotten worked up over nothing, Elide mumbled something rude, “Fine. I guess that makes sense.” 

The queen scoffed, “Of course it does. I make the best plans.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: aha ! he’s here and wasn’t it fun ?

@mythicaitt​​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​​ @schmlip-scribble​​ @the-regal-warrior​​ @empire-of-wildfire​​ @ladyverena​​ @ttakeitbacknoww​​ @shyvioletcat​​ @alifletcher2012​​ @tswaney17​​ @ourbooksuniverse​​  @flora-and-fae​​ @thesirenwashere​​ @queenofxhearts​​ @maastrash​​ @mynewdreamwasyou​​ @cursebreaker29​​ @empress-ofbloodshed​​ @b00kworm​​ @hizqueen4life​​ @silversprings98​​ @amren-courtofdreams​​ @minaidss​​ @superspiritfestival​​ @sanakapoor​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​​​ @spyofthenightcourt​​​ @januarystears​​​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​ comment to be added/removed from the tag list !

[clairecrive]

“Look at him!”- Bane x reader imagine

This is for the anon that asked: For a Bane request, what about the reader approaches him about getting a pet and reader ends up getting said pet whether he approves or not? Hope you like it!

Requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

How difficult could it be to convince someone to adopt a dog? I mean, who wouldn't want to have a bundle of joy in their life? You would have met with such resistance on the subject. You really underestimated the situation. One of the reasons you had found Bane so fascinating was the way he has always been able to broaden your horizon and let you see things and sides that you would never think existed. You had had such different lives and had so diverse experience that your union seemed almost doomed to an outsider. But you had always reacted warmly to his different point of view and opinions and much to anyone surprises, so did he. Well, up until this point anyway.

"Babe c'mon, you're saying no before even hearing me out." You had been nagging him about adopting a dog for a few days now but he had always quickly dismissed the subject with a shake of his head and an icy glare. Shame on him to think that you would be so easily deterred though.

"Look around you, do you think this is a place where a dog can live?" This was the first time he argued about it and so far, he was already loosing. You lived under the city. And Gotham was fucking huge, so.

"Absolutely. There's a lot of space where he or she could roam free and happy. Besides, you basically have beasts running around this place. I don't see how a beautiful puppy can cause you any problem."

"I don't have the time to take care of him and neither do you."

"Please, they're not so high-maintenance as you're making them out to be. They only need food and lots of love, which we have lots of." You easily pointed out. Besides, you were thinking of a company buddy nor a guarding dog.

He didn't give you an answer, just a pointed look and you knew that you were nowhere near convincing him.

"Why are you so opposed to getting a puppy? They're small and cute and an endless source of love and affection."

"Do I strike you as the affectionate type?" He deadpanned looking at you for a few seconds before focusing back to his paper. Obviously not.

"I know that you're not. Very well actually, always begging you for a little of attention." you sassed because in this case, appearances were not deceiving. It's not like his lack of affection came from the absence of feelings or emotion. You knew that he was deeply traumatised and he has a hard time showing affection other than with his eyes. Just being with you was a huge step forward for Bane and you're aware of that. While you appreciated deeply this will of his to step out of his comfort zone to please you, you couldn't help but feel something missing. Because there was. And it was not only a reference to his inability to kiss you. That was for obvious reasons. Sometimes though a soft caress was just as full of meaning as a kiss, especially when it was pretty much the only way he could show affection that was PG-13.

"Oh, I see what's happening here. You want a dog because I don't give you enough attention. That's selfish." He snickered and you were taken back by how cruel he sounded. Was he trying to hurt you? To make you feel guilty about your wish and desires? Ugh, such a man move.

"First of all, I'm not selfish. Seeking affection from the man you love isn't selfish, it's human. You don't have the same need for it and that's fine. That makes you different but it does not make me weak or weird. Plus, don't pretend that you won't be head over heels for a puppy after a while because that's a load of bullshit." Now the conversation has shifted to a more personal subject and the tone both of you restored to use didn't help to make the atmosphere less tense.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. There's no place for a dog in our lives. I'm sorry." You knew that in his way he was trying to apologize for his cutting words but now he had crossed a line and you were so fucking done with his dismissive attitude and assertive tone that suddenly you wondered why you were even asking him for permission. He wasn't your husband much less your father. You didn't owe him an explanation nor did you need his approval. Of course, his enthusiasm and participation would have made the whole experience even more jolly but it wasn't mandatory. You could do this even without him.

"Maybe in yours but you bet your ass that there is in mine."

You didn't realize that things had gone sour up until the moment you stormed off his room. Maybe you were being a little dramatic about it but that's just what happens when you're frustrated. And God only knows how much Bane is good at it. Despite what it could have looked like, your theatrical exit didn't mean you were going to leave him. As if. You hadn't climbed on top of the mountain just to go sliding down it at the last minute. You know him and you knew that he just needed some time to get adjusted to the idea. Or well, you hoped so. Because there was a beautiful light brown curly poodle in your arms now and since the first time your eyes landed on his quivering form, you knew that only death could separate you from the little thing.

Bane was pushed at the back of your mind, he was going to deal with it. He had to. Maybe he'd throw a fit at first but you'd guarantee that he would love him just as much as you did. He was the best little boy you knew after all. You had just got home from the animal shelter and was currently laying on your bed when a loud knock was heard. You quickly turn around to weakly try to hide the little thing with your body. You didn't answer, knowing already that it was him, but then again he wasn't asking for permission, he was just notifying you of his presence. Well then, so would you.

"Y/N?" His voice came muffled by the ever-present mask on his face. He sounded almost uncertain. He didn't know where he stood after last night. You had stormed off and he didn't come to your room that night to sleep. You didn't think too much of it given that it wasn't an unusual thing for him to do. He often works all night and you always wondered how he managed to function without a good night sleep.

You just hummed in response, too focused on playing with your new buddy. He was growing his teeth so he had the tendency to bite your fingers, his teeth were so tiny though that you hardly noticed.

"Listen, about last night-" he started but stopped when he came closer enough to the bed you were sitting on to see the puppy you were holding. "- was totally pointless seeing as you went ahead and did it anyway." he growled displeased with the fact that you went behind his back.

"You're my boyfriend and I love you but I don't need to ask for your permission. I wanted a dog and so I adopted one. You don't want it and that's fine. He won't be a burden for you in any way, I assure you. See? Not that selfish." you couldn't help but throw shade at him. What? You weren't angry that he didn't want a dog, but his words last night stung and he hadn't apologized for that yet.

He let out a deep sigh, and you knew that he was feeling guilty. No matter how violent and crude he was with certain people, he never was one to hurt people without a reason, people that he loved nor women. And you ticked two out of the three boxes.

"You're the least selfish person I know, I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean what I said." He simply offered but you took his apology gladly. Turning towards him, setting the dog on the ground so that he could explore a little, you simply looked at him in the eyes. They are really expressive.

"Does it really bothers you my need of affection? Is it a burden for you?" You ask. The thought that you could come across as clingy had never crossed your mind. Yes, you were affectionate but not that much. Or at least you thought so. But maybe for Bane's standards you were and he was just too kind to tell you.

Sitting next to you, he takes his hands in yours before speaking. "It really doesn't. I've never had someone to love him as you do before. Yes, sometimes it can feel too much but it's a good kind of feeling. Although I worry that you need more than what I can offer you." It was not the first time that he shared with you his apprehension of him not being enough for you. However, he never opened up to you like this before. The intensity of his gaze made him look more vulnerable than ever and suddenly you realized what the fuss was all about. He was scared.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're more than enough?" Allowing your foreheads to touch, you try and infuse your love to him so that he could feel less insecure. You felt a cold nose poking your leg and smiling a little, you picked him up and held him close to your faces.

"Besides, that's not true. Now you have someone else that will love you endlessly. He won't ever get angry at you and won't ever leave you. Say hi to daddy, baby." You cooed and smiled when the dog started licked Bane's cheek. By the way his eyes narrowed, you figured he was smiling under the mask. You attacked his other cheek with small little kisses so that he was smothered with love.

"We" kiss "love" kiss "you" another kiss. The giggle that he made was music to your ears. Holding you close to his chest, he let himself fall on the bed so that you and the dog were laying on him. Picking him up, Bane observed him for a moment.

"I guess we can keep him." He said and almost as if the puppy understood what he said, he barked and licked Bane's cheek again making you laugh and your heart flutter with joy.

[thistangledbrain]

Day 19 & 20!

Day 19 - “I hate it when...”

As you’ve gleaned from prior posts, I hate it when you forget autism is a developmental disorder and not an intellectual one. We are so. Fucking. Tired. Of being treated as lesser, or like we don’t understand what you’re saying to us.

Outside of the reactions to others’ behavior, though, I have some personal “I hate it when”...I’ve let you into my mind and told you what I appreciate about how my brain works, but there are things I don’t like, for sure.

I hate that personal stressor things trigger a toddler-like need to SHUT DOWN. Like writing this blog, for example...the vulnerability I feel usually leads to a need to go to sleep for a long time, once I’m finished. Or after a long day socializing. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to engage my brain anymore, I just need to shut all systems down and sleep. Especially if there’s been a meltdown (meltdown—->shutdown)...and oh boy do I hate meltdowns. They’re really rare, thank dog.

I hate that my executive function is an absolute bag of ass. This is probably the biggest thing I would change. It got infinitely worse when my disability got bad (EDS), for some reason. And it drives me up the damn wall.

I hate my low function days/moments. It’s like my brain just won’t kick into gear, or the gears and wheels are rusty and grinding, & it’s rather anxiety inducing. I usually “hide” on my low days, sometimes in my darkened bedroom, and watch favorite shows or movies, or get lost in a good book - if I can. On low days I find myself re-reading crap constantly because it’s not making any sense, so I’ll even avoid complicated recipes...I have no idea why these days/moments happen, but boy do they piss me off/make me anxious (that’s kind of the same thing for me. My anxiety nearly always manifests as anger). On my low days, you’ll see (if you were a fly on the wall, because I suppress this even around my own family), me walking in tight, anxious figure 8’s and flapping my hands in a distressed way, as I anxiously try to mentally kick my brain into gear. (It doesn’t work, but it IS a little soothing. And my dogs are SO sweet...they gather around me tightly and just seem to know I need them.)

🤷🏻‍♀️ There’s probably more I could expound on that I don’t like, but writing this one has been pretty distasteful. I try not to dwell on things I hate anymore, so I’ve put this entry down multiple times and come back to it when I’m in a decent frame of mind. I think I’m tired of talking about it now, so I’m gonna just stop talking.....

Which is a good segue into Day 20 -

————————————-

“Communication”

Ahh communication. This entry will be long, because I have a lot to communicate LOL....

Personally, I write far more coherently and eloquently than I speak. My brain goes too fast...I often trip over words; my brain’s three steps ahead of what’s coming out of my mouth and I get scrambled sometimes. I can also take the time to think about what I want to say/HOW I want to say it. Like many autistics, I’m a blurter. LOL...I am constantly trying to remind myself, just because I think it, doesn’t mean I have to say it. This gets a LOT of us in trouble...one of my most memorable examples is, I *loudly* blurted “that’s BULLSHIT!!” in a church one time. (I was speaking on how my devout Methodist grandmother, who regularly takes communion at her church, was not permitted to receive communion in a Catholic church, merely because she isn’t Catholic, despite the fact that this woman is all about some Jesus & a devoted churchgoer - not just on Easter and Christmas.) In my defense, it WAS (IS) bullshit. I just didn’t need to practically yell that in church. As you can imagine, it was like a needle scratching across a record & everyone turned to stare. (My poor husband rescued me.) 🤦🏻‍♀️ Sigh. It’s a good idea to keep me out of most church services.

I am rather famous (infamous?) for calling bullshit straight to someone’s face, BLUNTLY. It’s out of my mouth before my brain’s “tact gatekeeper” I’ve spent over a decade trying to train is even half awake at his post (it’s a him because my husband is the one who taught me how to use tact in the first place. And it’s a him because said “gatekeeper” is lazy and falls asleep on the job all the time 😆). Have you ever just blurted your honest thoughts and heard shocked gasps or someone just busts out laughing? Yeah. That happens to me regularly. Or uncomfortable chuckles and someone will blink a few times and say, “oohhhkay, well, you could said that a different way.” (My old response to that was, I’m not responsible for what your reaction is to what I say...you’re in charge of your own feelings. I *understand* now how irresponsible and unfeeling that is, and I try to keep that in the front of my mind, even when I’m frustrated and nearly burning up with the desire to speak my thoughts in their raw form, but this is routinely an area I struggle to adapt to...and I am very sorry when I hurt someone I care about.)

On the other side of this same coin though, this is a trait my friends respect deeply, because I’m not cruel hearted or anything. You always know where you stand with me, and I’m the last person to try and lie to you. I SUUUUUCK at lying. And on the rare times when I do, I usually end up eventually telling on myself (this drove my older stepsister NUTS when we were kids, because she liked to do lots of sneaky things, and I don’t have an inherently sneaky nature LOL...so “DO NOT tell momma” was a *serious* risk for her, if she let me tag along 😂). Lying to someone just feels disgusting. Oily. Shameful. I hate lying. Plus, my short term memory is a grabasstic bag of CRAP, so there’s a good chance I won’t remember the lie and get caught anyway. 🤷🏻‍♀️ My boys also suck at lying or hiding stuff, and generally prefer not to...but I also give them a safe forum to be honest. (I’m sure there’s LOTS of crap I don’t know, but you’d be surprised how much they DO tell me.)

Another thing with me personally is that I go mute sometimes. I’m not being deliberately obstinate. I’m not REFUSING to speak in those moments...sometimes I literally can’t, and the effort of doing so will make me gag, or even projectile vomit. Sounds very dramatic, doesn’t it? It is. (And it annoys the SHIT out of me.) There’s not a fucking thing i can do about it. The movement of my tongue in my mouth will literally begin to trigger my gag reflex, and if I try to power through it, I’m rewarded with my lunch returning to the surface anyway, regardless of my desires, and sometimes rather unexpectedly & violently. USUALLY this happens when I’m uber stressed, but sometimes it seems kind of out of the blue & catches even me off guard. If this happens but I still have something to say, I start texting instead, and explain. Most people - especially my hubby - are very kind when this happens. (I don’t want your pity, I just want you to switch to written communication for a minute until I can figuratively kick the fuck out of the engine in my “speaking center” and get it to work again.) Other times, I will literally get tired of talking. Like my mouth and tongue - and somehow, the “word forming” part of my brain feels physically exhausted (weird, I know, but I also spend the vast majority of my life silent - I am home alone all day, hate talking on the phone, and simply don’t speak much, by choice. So maybe it is actual “mouth fatigue” 😂😂😂 - I’ve stopped eating before because I just got tired of chewing, too, even though I’m still somewhat hungry. 🙄) I am usually *perfectly* happy to keep listening! And I’ll stay engaged in the conversation usually. I am just...done audibly talking. I’ll literally say “my mouth is tired of making the sounds now, but please keep going”...but I think my husband is the only one who doesn’t find this unusual, and rolls with it. It usually happens after a long, animated conversation...instead of winding down, though, it just..stops. If I try to keep going, cue the gagging. I can stay engaged in the conversation if you let me start writing/typing instead of speaking, for my responses. So that’s a “fun” little trait of mine that many neurotypicals find unsettling. Please don’t take it personally. My mouth just doesn’t want to make the words anymore - and I’m probably mostly done adding what I needed to add to the conversation anyway. I’m a great listener when this happens, though. 😆

Communication is a really interesting thing with all of us, because it’s a struggle on one level or another. I will tell you, it’s a frequent topic in my groups. “WHY CAN’T NEUROTYPICALS JUST SAY WHAT THE FUCK THEY MEAN?!?! 😩😩😩” I’m dead serious - you might think, because we’re sensitive (generally), we can’t “handle” it? You’d be so very wrong. What we can’t handle is when you dance around a subject or we have to try and translate what you just said to us (which most of us are not that good at). Just fucking say it! Nine times out of ten, you’ll just get a look of dawning realization and a “oh, shit, okay” response. We can handle it. Just. Say. It. We’ll respect you a lot more in the morning, LOL 😆

I think every autistic has some sort of beef with neurotypicals when it comes to communication (as I’m sure you have yours with us, obviously).

You guys operate under some weird ass rules that we simply don’t understand - especially if you don’t tell us those rules & just expect us to know. Like, if my husband hadn’t patiently taken years to show/teach me how the way I said certain things were hurtful, I would still be in the “yeah she’s cool but she’s kind of an asshole” territory. (I still struggle to grasp this, or at least it still frustrates me....truth is truth, whether it’s an ironclad general fact or your own personal truth - and yes sometimes the truth hurts, but like...I don’t pin any responsibly for that on the truth teller, if that makes sense?)

Working in rescue also helped hone my ability to speak “neurotypically” to others - I work with a LOT of women, and boy do a lot of them NOT appreciate when you bluntly tell them what you think. Men on the other hand....

I know *lots* of autistic women who prefer friendships with men, largely centering around this communication thing. We hurt men’s feelings a little less regularly than other women’s. I know I was like that, until I got a little more used to how I have to modify my communication with most women (but that annoys me, I’m gonna be honest - it annoys my Autie friends, too). The only time I am as starkly blunt as I used to be, is when speaking to my female Autie friends (because they can handle it), or most of the dudes I’m friends with. But if my message is getting “lost in the sauce” and you’re not getting my point, I usually give a frustrated sigh, WARN you that I’m about to tell you flatly what I need to say, because we aren’t getting anywhere, and just say it.

Yes I am the friend who, when you gush on and on about your new back yard bred puppy, talking all about how you’re gonna breed him when he grows up, is gonna flatly say “he’s not breeding quality”, if they’re not. Then I’m gonna ask you why you want to do such a thing, given that you’re aware of the massive load of rescue dogs (PARTICULARLY Great Danes and Cane Corsos) - and probably beat your argument down every step of the way. That doesn’t always go badly though - one of my closest friends was considering breeding their dog, and while it was a beautiful dog, it was not one that should reproduce (from an “improve the breed” perspective). We barely knew each other, but I gained a reputation for being kind but starkly honest...and I knew what I was talking about...and now I have this person’s deep respect, and they have mine (because they listened and did the research I asked them to - and did not add to the breed population). So it’s not *always* a trainwreck, because the people who end up respecting how I communicate, usually end up VERY close friends. AND I WANT THAT IN RETURN, which is refreshing for a LOT of people. I want your dead honesty in return - PLEASE. It’s so much easier for me to process and accept. For example, my house is almost constantly in some sort of disarray. I have one friend who will come in and go, “girl. I almost can’t breathe in here - this clutter is too much”(and then she offers to help me tackle it!!).

Or, fairly recently, “oh my god those curtains are so horrible, I hope you’re getting rid of those when you redo this room.”

“But I MADE those curtains! I love that print!”

“Ugh. No. They’re terrible. Get rid of them.”

My feelings were not hurt in the LEAST (I of course had a flash of “you bitch, I was so excited to find that print and I MADE THOSE, ya jerk” 😂). At first I said, “well you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with my shitty curtains, because I like them” 😂, but then as I was redoing the room, I took them down...and it DID look a lot better, so I left them down 😂😂😂....

So I guess my point with all this is: every autie I know deeply wishes you’d just fucking spit it out. We WILL often miss or misinterpret the point if you “fluff” it too much (around my neck of the woods, we call it putting too much gild on the lily, though I’ve never understood that one. Idk if a “gilded lily” is/was ever a thing, why anyone would gild a lily in the first place...LOTS of us struggle with colloquialisms that don’t make literal sense. 😆 Recently a friend was baffled over “shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which fills up faster”, and fully half of the respondents to her post were people baffled by why anyone would shit in their hand - I and a couple others had to explain, and it just ended with them going “well that’s a fucking stupid saying anyway, and wishes aren’t things you can put in your hands, either” 😂😂😂...but I’m from the south, and these things are just part of our vocab. MOST of them are easy to grasp for me, like “nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs”, because I immediately picture it and can grasp the meaning. But others I don’t get - the gilded lily is one LOL)...

We are LITERAL AS FUCK. It’s why we ruin lots of jokes, too. My poor husband is the dad joke king - and I ruin fully 1/3 or more of his jokes by being too literal (which he also finds amusing, so that’s good). Sometimes we realize we’re ruining the joke but we don’t care, because it’s dumb, or we just .... can’t....HELP IT. 😩😂

Jeez, I could almost write all day about autistics and communication LOL!!

But to summarize (and not succinctly, sorry), I guess, for me and many many others...we are often blunt, direct, almost painfully honest, and very, very literal. Your unspoken rules of communication absolutely go over our heads, unless you - yannow - *communicate* and explain them. We’ll probably tell you those rules are stupid and exhausting, but we will TRY and stick to it as best we can. But see, we literally have to think about every single word that comes out of our mouths, because we communicate far more directly than you weird fuckers do. And it is literally actually exhausting. It’s not an easily natural thing for us to adapt to, your weird way of saying things but not saying what you really mean. You’re wasting a LOT of words there, sir, and we are now getting obsessively confused over why you would do such a thing. 😂 It’s also why I keep getting banned from Facebook. My recent one was because I said - in one of my Autie “safe” groups, where I should be able to just say what I mean - that I tend to punch or want to punch people who deliberately startle the shit out of me. We were talking about how stupid April Fool’s Day was, and how we hate pranks. Three of us got banned for 30 days for just...well. Facebook called it “incitement of violence”. 🙄🥺🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼

But I haven’t met - yet, maybe? - an autistic person who is cruel natured - not one of us gets any joy from being a bully type. WE feel everything on a higher level, so we kind of assume you do, too...you might think, “then why are you such an asshole?!”, but it’s simply that we - or every Autie I know, anyway - struggle to grasp how directly communicating your feelings is so fuckin hard or hurtful for y’all. I think anyone struggles to grasp something they themselves don’t experience. All you have to do is explain, though, and keep guiding us towards communicating in ways that we both find acceptable. I mean we’re champs at accepting all manner of different human - regardless of race, sexuality, and so on - but the communication is one area that frustrates the ever loving SHIT out of most of us, because it makes so little logical sense why anyone would say a bunch of useless words that muddy up their intent.

My closing advice? Help Your Pet Autie ™️ (this is absolutely a tongue in cheek term btw) understand how you’d like to be communicated with, and guide us. BE SPECIFIC for fucks sake - we suck at guessing what you might want, and it’s so frustrating that we’ll often just stop communicating at all. Instead of saying “it hurts me when you say this”, try saying “the WAY you said this hurt my feelings because of ____. Maybe you could put it like this instead” (or, “you know, you should really just keep shit like that to yourself”) and *give examples*. Don’t expect us to come up with different ways of saying shit, because we don’t understand what it is specifically you want, and it’s not very logical, therefore it’s not “natural” for us. Plus, everyone is different. I can’t talk to one of my sons the same way I can talk to the other, without certain negative reactions. Give us a chance to know your needs - we DO CARE!!! - but be CLEAR. I know in your world, tact is a big deal, but MOST of us will miss the fucking point if you’re too tactful (and when we misinterpret, we always err on the side of worst case scenario, and make the issue wayyyyy bigger than it should be. Being clear is soooo important).

And hey. Maybe it’ll help clear up some communication in other areas of your life. Being clear isn’t a license to be a fucking asshole; nobody’s giving you a license to unleash on everyone about how much you can’t stand humans...if WE hafta be quiet about that, so do you lmao...fair’s fair. 😆 But quit hedging and hinting and hoping we will pick up on the whatever your grievance is - because we won’t. We’ll just know you’re unhappy, and start panicking over guessing what we did wrong, and just shut down, because we have no idea.

Just. Fucking. Say it. 😘

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #332

i’m even more tired than before to try and think up song lyrics, i’m pasting from Word and then fucking off to bed lmao.

What was the last video message you received on your phone? I think it was a clip of Doris (Sara's beardie) eating and just being her perfect self? Was your last birthday cake homemade or store bought? Store-bought. One thing you miss about middle school? Shit, nothing. Middle school was the worst. Do you have any shirts signed by famous people? No. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. Would you ever pierce yourself? No. I am very much about having a professional do your body mods/art. Plus, I have tremors in my hands. Do you live in a safe neighbourhood? Supposedly. We haven't lived here nearly long enough to know. What is the last thing you did that shocked someone? /shrug Do you often find yourself questioning your future? Only always. Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? Yeah. Do you like your license photo? I hate my permit picture. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favorite? Not very, but I like 'em enough. I always say my favorite is Deadpool, but I know he's technically an anti-hero, but whatever. If you don't include him, uhhhh... maybe Spiderman. Have you started watching any new TV shows recently? No. Have you ever been able pet a normally wild animal, like a tiger or dolphin? No. :( At least, not to my recollection. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. There's actually a winter treat 'round here that you make with snow and sugar called snow cream. Good stuff. What is the messiest area in your home? Right now, the spare room/my wanna-be "office." What’s your favorite computer game genre? Still horror, like video games. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you received financial help from your parents in the past 5 years? I'm completely financially dependent on them still. Are you a fast or a slow eater? I eat like, stupid fast, but without being messy. People *cough*Mom*cough* will absolutely point it out, but I seriously can't help it. Making a conscious effort to eat slow feels way too weird. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? No. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? Ew, no. Tell me what's on your mind? I've been considering yet again reaching out to some tattoo parlors and asking if they're open to hiring someone to handle the front desk and take care of business besides actually performing piercing and tattooing, given my tremors. My group therapy has kinda been encouraging me to use the possibility for social exposure, and besides, I'm very comfortable in the environment and just general aura of tat parlors. I'm sure I'd have to answer the phone, handle money, and obviously talk to costumers, but I know and accept that. I've been at such a stagnant point with my social anxiety in particular that I have to start pushing back harder, and doing this I feel would be one of the most relaxed, social job positions I can hopefully handle. I don't dare to even try this though until I get vaccinated to protect my immunocompromised mom. Writing this all out has actually been pretty encouraging about this idea... Do you wish you never dated someone you dated? Yeah, Tyler. It was such a "I'm lonely and he was nice in high school, so we'll try it" situation. I got nothing from it. Are you scared of growing old alone? Pretty badly. What are you listening to right now? I'm listening to/semi-watching John Wolfe play the remaster of Resident Evil 2. What breed was the last dog you saw? He was a German shepherd. Would you ever go swimming during a thunderstorm? No. Any time a thunderstorm was brewing and I was in the pool, I'd always get out. What is the next concert you will attend? Mom and I plan to see Ozzy when/if he reschedules his tour after he had to cancel with his Parkinson's diagnosis. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :/ What's the highest science class you have taken? I don't know, actually. What makes you squeal like a school girl? No shame, seeing Mark and Amy do something cute together actually does this, lmao. What’s your favorite symbol? (i.e. the pentagram, the cross, etc.) Do fictional ones count? Because in that case, the Halo of the Sun from the Silent Hill franchise. I'm getting it tattooed somewhere at some point, I'm thinking the left side of my neck. I'm either gonna fashion it in a way where it looks branded on or carved into me. Have you ever been on anti depressants? For all of my pre-teen, teen, and some of my adult life. Apparently, I've only had one truly educated psychiatrist out of no less than a dozen I'd seen, because he fixed me right up. He taught me that those who suffer from bipolarity should avoid anti-depressants; they ramp up your bipolar symptoms. Instead, mood stabilizers are favorable. And what do you know, after I was prescribed a stabilizer and a catalyst for that medication, my depression decreased dramatically and became handleable. Have you ever starved yourself? Kinda. What’s the stupidest name you’ve ever given a pet? I had a guinea pig named Harry Potter. For no particular reason lmao. I'm not even a Harry Potter fan. Do you have nice legs? God no. Do you like fedoras? Okay so I know I am in the strong minority, but I actually do, haha. What is your favorite food group? Carbs. @_@ Have you ever got told that you should be a model? No, but one of the most flattering indirect compliments I've ever gotten was being mistaken for one. Jason's phone wallpaper was one of my favorite pictures of myself with my first snake, and someone asked him if I was a model. ;v;' What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? "Donaukinder" by Rammstein is one of my faves. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? SOBS Darkiplier bc his origins are so damn tragic and unfair. What book do you think should be directed as a film? Was The Giver ever made into one? I don't remember that book well, but I do recall it being absolutely beautiful. Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? Yeah. I have thousands on the Silent Hill wiki, where I'm one of the admins. I'm also a content moderator at the Team Ico (Shadow of the Colossus devs) one. Every now and again I used to go on the meerkats wiki as well, where I mainly fixed the fucking nightmarish grammar. Very briefly, I edited at the Dragons of Atlantis wiki as well. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? Not very, but of course I still acknowledge the risk and am more conscious of hand washing and stuff. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, I don't actually use my Twitter, I don't have a personal Instagram... There may be more, idk. Is TikTok a "social media platform?" Because I don't have that, either. What was the name of the first porcelien doll you got? Never had one, given I was afraid of dolls as a kid. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "Decode." Would you be happy with a life without romance? To be entirely honest, I'd feel like I was missing something. Was your childhood happy? Mostly. What fundamentally matters do you? Love, kindness, peace, all that gooey stuff. Is true world peace ever possible? As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think so. The human population is far too big to come to a unanimous agreement on anything. Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? Yeah. Would you ever own a pet black widow spider? No. I'm getting more into the idea of owning invertebrates (I jabber enough about wanting tarantulas, and there are others, like mantises, I'm interested in as pets), but black widows, I'm not into the idea of having. Too venomous for me to be comfortable risking. If you have a job, what is the longest shift that you've worked? N/A Do you know all of the words to "Bohemian Rhapsody?" FUCK YES I DO. ^ Do you sing it with all of the different voices? sho nuff Do you own more than one copy of a certain book? No. Do you like interpreting poetry or just reading it for fun? Both. I love symbolism, so I get joy out of digging for subtle meanings in poems. Do you have a favorite Dr. Suess book? Yeah, it was always Green Eggs and Ham. Do you watch The Walking Dead? If so, favorite character? Not the show, but I've watched let's plays of the games, haha. In which case Clementine is inarguably one of the best female characters in a video game universe. Who has/had the most mature romantic relationship you’ve seen with your own eyes? Uhhh. I mean I never saw them much, but probably my late grandmother and her last husband. He was fucking incredible to her, and Grammy adored him as well. They helped each other so much and just obviously had the purest love between them. When was the last time you got something for free (legally)? What was it & have you enjoyed it so far? Lmao do balls in Pokemon GO count? Their occasional free boxes are the reason I can play the game because PokeStops are essentially non-existent here, so yes. What is the one fruit you can’t stand to eat? How about vegetable? The first one that came to me were oranges. I enjoy orange juice, but I just caaaaannot with the white veiny shit that you can't totally get off when peeling it. Without that, I might actually enjoy them, but idk. As for vegetable, asparagus is absolutely abhorrent. When’s the last time you actually recited the pledge? If you aren’t American, do/did you have anything similar in your country that you do during a time at school? Probably not since high school. Last person you shared food with? Ummm I have no idea. It's really just Mom and me here and we eat our own stuff. What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I believe it waaas... "Down In The Park" by Marilyn Manson, maybe. If your life was a TV show, what would be the theme song? My inner high school emo just screamed "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by AD2R. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Gahdamn, there's a lot. I don't feel like going through a mental list in my head and then describing why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? Vol'jin; I think the entire WoW fanbase will forever be pissed about it. It was THE most "lul we dunno what 2 do w/ him anymore, let's let a totally random, unnamed, unimportant demon kill him" like what the fuck, Blizz. Most of his "oomph" was in the book, and I just really wish they'd done so much more with him in the game. Has anything “cute” happened in the past week? Off the top of me noggin, no. When did you last say “I love you”? Did you mean it? Yesterday to Sara. OF course I did. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times? Hi, PTSD, how are ya. Have you ever slept all day? Essentially. When I was on a larger dose of my anxiety med, I physically couldn't stay up for barely even five minutes, and when I'd lie back down, boom, I was OUT. I stayed on that dosage for I think just that one day, it was so bad. Can you have kids? Well, I have a functioning menstrual cycle, so I would assume so. Doesn't mean I will, though. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Only black. Do you like eating sour things? Hell yeah, I love sour stuff, candy in particular. Do you like pickles? fuuuuck yeah Did you ever have a really close friend move away? Yeah, in elementary school. I feel bad I can't remember her name at the moment... What's the most creative thing you've ever done? I mean, I guess the things I've written in RP. What's the most creative thing someone has done for you? For me? I don't really know. Do you like to watch ghost-hunting shows? Sure, they're some of my favorites. What’s something you’d like to be better at? Social interaction. Have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? Yeah. Do you think you would make a good parent? No. I know I wouldn't. The only time I ever wanted kids was with Jason, and honestly, I really hope I don't end up with a man because I never want to deal with that urge again and make a mistake. I'm just in no way emotionally fit to be a mother. How many best friends do you have? Just one. What do you cry over the most? My PTSD, honestly. I never sob about it anymore, just shed some tears. What language did/do you take in high school? Latin for one semester, then all four available for German. Which sports do you follow? None. Who was the last person you talked about marriage or having kids with? About marriage, Sara. Kids, the subject was lightly touched upon with Girt, though "with" was never a part of it, but obviously implied seeing as we were dating with long-term in mind. Have you ever been in a house fire? No, thankfully. Have you ever made out for one straight hour? them is rookie numbers Are you any good at remembering phone numbers? No. I literally don't even know my own, nor my mother's. I need to fix that. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt. Do you have a bookshelf? If so, just one or how many? No. If I gave you twenty bucks what would you do with it? Save it to go towards Venus' terrarium. Is there a movie from your childhood that you still watch today? Well of course! I'm unashamed to watch any "kids" movie I enjoy, like Disney ones. Most "kids" movies tend to be better than those intended for adults, it seems... Are you afraid of mice? Oh no, I adore mice and I think had a pair as pets before I got rats. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I can't really answer this; I haven't gone on nearly enough vacations to develop a theme. I can say confidently though it'd probably be something small. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't enjoy musicals. Have you ever watched Doctor Who? One or two with Sara, yes. I know we at least watched the weeping angels episode. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? Warriors by S.E. Hinton. Sometimes I wanna get back into them, but I am YEARS behind and more into Wings of Fire anyway, so. I don't read nearly enough for both. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Literally no trick seems to work for me. I just suffer lmao.

[velveteencurtains]

evermore first impressions!

willow - GIRL EUEJDNSKJDJEJD LOST IN YOUR CURRENT LIKE A PRICELESS WIINE!!!!! TAKE MY HAND!!! WRECK MY PLANS!!! THATS MY MAN!!!!!! girl this is so fcuking GOOD! gonna be 100% honest the 1 is a better album opening but this is so fucking good you guys. life was a willow and it bent right to your wind!!! ID COME BACK STRONGER THAN A 90’S TREND???? EVERY BAIT AND SWITCH WAS A WORK OF ART??? SHES SICK SHES REALLY SICK I SWEAR. the way she sings “that’s my man!” yes ma’am yes ma’am!!!!!! the parallel between “I knew you stepping on the last train” and then “you know my train could take you home” SHES SICK YOUR HONOR SHES SICK

champagne problems - okay we love a piano opener. i’m so conflicted on what i think this song is gonna be about. MORE TRAIN LYRICS GIRLIE. this really is this is me trying’s older, sadder sister. “our group of friends/don’t think we’ll say that word again” MA’AM??? SHE WOULD HAVE MADE SUCH A LOVELY BRIDE SUCH A SHAME SHES FUCKED IN THE HEAD??????? IM LOSIJG MY FUCKIJG MIND. taylor and joe wrote this together? we love a couple with shared mental illnesses

gold rush - jack antonoff do not let me down. GIRL THE HARMONIES AT THE VERY BEGINNING JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE. okay I can definitely see what they meant by this song being about being lost in a daydream, the juxtaposition between the chorus and the verses is AMAZING. this is just gorgeous’s older sister huh???? “ocean blue eyes/looking in mine/i feel like i might sink and drown and die” and “eyes like sinking/ships on waters/so inviting/i almost jump in”

‘tis the damn season - i can’t tell if i want this song to be christmassy or not. OH SO THIS IS JUST HOLIDATE. TAYLOR JUST WATCHED HOLIDATE AND WROTE A SONG ABOUT IT. this is a continuation of tim mcgraw, argue with the wall. NO BC TIM MCGRAW IS ABOUT LIKE A LOVE FROM HIGH SCHOOL AND THIS IS LIKE COMING HOME FROM COLLEGE AND REUNITING WITH THEM BC YOURE BOTH DEPRESSED AND LONELY

tolerate it - jesus christ i’m not emotionally ready for this. STOP THIS IS THE PRELUDE TO BETTER MAN. LIKE BETTER MAN IS AFTER SHES ALREADY LEFT BUT THIS IS BEFORE WHEN SHES STUCK AND KNOW SHE DESERVES BETTER BUT SHE JUST TAKES IT IM GONNA CRYYYYYYYYYYY. okay but i’m imagining the babe music video and that whole of like the doting housewife who gave up everything for her husband and does everything to make him happy but he just does not appreciate it at all and he doesn’t see how much his indifference hurts her. @taylorswift mv now. honestly? loved that but as a track 5 it’s pretty weak

no body, no crime - I PREDICTED THIS WAS GONNA BE MY TOP SONG ON THE ALBUM LETS SEE IF I’M RIGHT. GIRL THE SIRENS AND “HE DID IT” AS THE FIRST LINES?? THEN THE COUNTRY INSTRUMENTAL??? TAYLOR HAS FINALLY GIVEN ME A GOOD OLD FASHIONED “MURDERED MY CHEATING HUSBAND” COUNTRY SONG HELL YESSSSSSS. OH THE WIFE IS MISSING???? NOT GONE GIRLLLLLLLLL MISS TAYLOR CHANNELING AMY DUNNE HERE!!!!! OH SHUT UPPPPPP SHES A LESBIAN WITH ESTE’S SISTER AND THEY COVERED UP HIS MURDER AND NOW THEYRE GONNA LESBIAN TOGETHER MISS TAYLOR

happiness - okay miss happiness you’ve got a lot to live up to but let’s do this. NOT THE MIRRORBALL PARALLEL “i was dancing when the music stopped” and “when no one is around, my dear/you’ll find me on my tallest top toes/spinning in my highest heels, love” NOT THE IDEA OF CHANGING YOURSELF JUST TO KEEP SOMEONE BY YOUR SIDE IM GONNA SOB taylor please stop this i cant emotionally handle any of this. girl this is the prelude to tolerate it which is the prelude to better man

dorothea - okay so seven’s older sister? so dorothea and whoever this singer is were besties when they were teens and then dorothea moved away and now the singer misses her former best friend and also first love and also they’re lesbians yeah it’s gay it’s so gay. taylor i’m literally begging you from the bottom of my fucking soul please give us a music video with two girls please miss swift i ask of you this one (1) thing

coney island - see i thought this was gonna be seven’s older sister when the tracklist was announced so now idk what to expect! JESUS OKAY I KNOW IT SAYS “feat. The National” IN THE TITLE BUT I FORGOT AND I GOT SCARED BY HIS VOICE. NOT A FUCKIJG CAR ACCIDENT TAYLOR IM REALLY SORRY I RRALIZE YOU ARE YOUR OWN PERSON AND I NEED TO STOP CONNECTING YOU TO HARRY BUT REALLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. okay anyway here’s my theory hear me out: This is dorothea’s husband who’s confused why his high school sweetheart wife doesn’t love him anymore and why she’s now hanging out with her old high school best friend again damn that’s weird they’re like really super close that’s super odd. anyway that’s just a theory I actually don’t really know what this songs about! miss swift is too smart for me

ivy - stop this song is so sweet!!!!!! i feel like this is getaway car’s sister! i need to stop doing that i know it gets annoying but really honestly it is! NO NO NO THIS IS DOROTHEA’S PERSPECTIVE WHEN SHE HAS AN AFFAIR WITH HER HS BESTIE AND HER HUSBAND STARTS TO FIND OUT GUYS IVE FIGURED IT OUTTTTTTT. WAIT WAIT WAIT THE HS BESTIE IS FROM NO BODY NO CRIME AND DOROTHEA IS ESTE’S SISTER GUYS IVE FIGURED IT THE FUCK OUT YOU GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I GOT IT

cowboy like me - let’s yee and let’s haw ladies and gents. WHOS SINGING????? WHOS SINGING WITH HER???? taylor shut up for a second lemme hear who tf this is. AM I CRAZY OR IS THIS JOE???? i’m probably dumb. but am i? why can i not at all remember what joe’s voice sounds like rn. is that joe??? im so confused. maybe i’m super dumb and it’s really obvious and i’m just fucking stupid. it’s probably not joe it’s probably some country legend that everyone else knows bc they grew up yeeing and hawing and i’m but a wee city slicker but i’m gonna hold onto this stupid theory that it’s joe singing with her until someone proves me wrong later. also this song is fucking gorgeous where’s my cowboy hat not wearing one while listening to this song makes me feel sacrelige. okay wait tay and aaron wrote this one is it aaron? i’m sorry taylor i don’t listen to the national you can hate me if you want

long story short - god the production on this slaps!!!!! and the idea of being hurt before and then finding your love and being all about them and not even caring abt what happened before!!!!! god i’m gonna cry i’m gonna cry. NO MORE KEEPING SCORE NOW I JUST KEEP YOU WARM?????? taylor really said “oh you’re not in love and i’m gonna make you feel like SHIT ABOUT IT” taylor pls a petition to let us say “BITCH” after the last line so it’s “i survived...bitch!” okay pls and thank you

marjorie - oh is this about taylor’s grandma :(((( i knew she used her name but this feels like it’s really all about her. babey. this is so sweet. taylor i love you

closure - okay the opening??? slaps! literally! okay the production of this is interesting! okay i’m like trying to figure out who this is about....who cares this is so good. oh my god the distortion??? it just underlines the anger of it all so perfectly and i love

evermore - exile hive let’s GOOOO. please be an exile pt 2 pls be an exile pt 2. so odd to me because, as a whole, this actually feels like a way more happy and optimistic album than folklore did, yet the title comes from the line “i had a feeling so peculiar/that this pain would be for/evermore”. OKAY BON IVERRRRRR. the violence of the dog days? that’s my next instagram caption thanks taylor. NOT A DUET SECTION AGAIN LIKE IN EXILE TAYLOR PLEASE I CANT HANDLE THISSSSSSS. “we always walked a very thin line” AND “is there a line that we could just go cross?” THE PARALELLELLLLRJSNDBBD. I’m gonna die for this I really think. okay so she ends it on this pain wouldn’t last evermore so that’s good

overall? this is a masterpiece. miss swift has done it again. folklore aoty 2021 and evermore aoty 2022. no body, no crime is really THAT BITCH. i need a mv miss swift! okay bye gonna go cry over this

update: after listening all night i feel like i need to point out that i’m stupid and thought este was the mistress and the singer was the wife when in fact ESTE is the wife in no body, no crime. SO addendum to my theory: este and dorothea were besties in hs then dorothea left and got married and so did este but este’s hubby cheated so then este’s friend murders him and she’s cool w it, then dorothea and her husband move back home and este and dorothea reconnect and realize their long hidden feelings for one another, dorothea leaves her husband and she and este run away together

ANOTHER UPDATE: ‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON IS FROM DOROTHEA’S POINT OF VIEW!!!!!!!! WHEN SHE COMES HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS AND SHES SINGING TO ESTE!!!!!! CJNECNSJSNNDN

[freddiesaysalright]

Peace Like A River Part 1

A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story

Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee. 

Word Count: 3.4K

Tag List: @psychosupernatural @someone-get-a-medic @bensrhapsody @deakyclicks If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had like the snippet of an idea for this and then needed more for a plot, but I think I’ve finally got it together lol. Hope y’all like it!

Part I here we go!!!

Grinning, you read over the letter once more from backstage. His words in that graceful, loopy handwriting warmed you from your heart to your toes. You sighed contentedly, stuffed the paper into your back pocket for luck, and waited for your cue.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!” the host cried. 

You shook out the last of your nerves and walked out on the stage, waving and grinning at the huge crowd that stood and applauded for you. You had never done a show for an audience this large and it was both intimidating and exhilarating. 

“Thank you!” you said, as you waited for them to stop cheering. “Thank you. Thank you all for coming. Really, I appreciate it because whenever I have to go out and do things, I think about killing myself.”

A nervous titter went through the crowd and you smiled again.

“Seriously, I do. I’ll think about killing myself over nothing. Like, the other day, I was in the car on my way home from the store and my sister called me and asked me to stop by her place and help her and her husband move furniture. And I actually thought ‘If I crashed my car right now and died, I wouldn’t have to go move any fucking furniture.’”

They laughed.

“It’s crazy, I know, but I casually think about it any time I’m even minorly inconvenienced. But what stops me from doing it - like, my next line of thought - is something equally meaningless. Like, in that scenario with my sister, the thing that held me back was like, I thought ‘But fuck, Bohemian Rhapsody is coming out in like two months and I really wanna see that.’”

A couple cheers came through the laughter and you smiled.

“Oh, we got some Queen fans in here tonight?” you said. 

More cheers.

“Yeah, cheer, clap, fuck yeah!”

A swell of shouts and whistles went through the crowd and you joined them.

“Fuck yeah, y’all were raised right,” you said when it settled down. “Queen is a great band. Just four sexy dudes making banger after banger. They’re legitimately my favorite band. I’m not gonna lie, they really got me through some shit, but we’ll come back to my trauma later.”

You paused for a small bit of laughter.

“Now normally, I don’t like when comedians talk about Queen. And by that, I mean, I don’t like it when comedians talk about Freddie Mercury,” you said. “And it’s not for some pretentious reason like they’re not real fans or something. It’s literally just that when people joke about Freddie Mercury, they joke about the same two things - his teeth and his sexuality - two extremely fucking boring things to joke about.”

You took a sip of water.

“Not only are they boring, they’re just rude. Like, these are things this man was born with and couldn’t change about himself - he had no control over that. What he did have control over - the fucking ridiculous lyrics of Under Pressure.”

A giggle went through them. You smiled.

“I’m serious. Have any of you ever looked up the lyrics to that song? Most of it doesn’t really bother me, it’s just those weird scat-like shit Freddie does between verses. Like, they have these great, meaningful lines followed by Freddie going ‘Um, bah, bah, bay.’ What the fuck?”

They laughed.

“That shit is in the official lyrics of that legendary song and I think about that every goddamn day. That and fucking ‘dee, dah, day - ok!’ Shit like that is how you know these dudes were on drugs. One of those guys came up with that, pitched it to four other people - if not more - and they all went ‘fuckin genius’ and bam! Under Pressure is one of the greatest hits of all time.”

They laughed harder.

“I guess I’m not as disturbed by that as I am by the fact that the people ate it up like they did. It’s one thing for those guys to say it’s genius, but then for us as the public to say it as well just fucks me up. The first time I heard that song I was like ‘what the cinnamon toast fuck am I listening to?’ Shit was weird.”

You took another drink as they laughed. 

“But honestly, I don’t understand why people go for Freddie’s sexuality when there are clearly much more roastable things to talk about. I don’t care how rich and famous he was, if you’re a straight white guy making fun of gay brown guy for being either or both of those things, you’re punching down, dude, and that’s not comedy, that’s just being an asshole.”

For that, they applauded. You continued on through your set, and this audience was great for you. They were responsive and you held their attention throughout. You were almost ready to close the show.

“I always like to end my shows with the most important person in my life,” you said. “I’ve talked about her already tonight, and she’s my daughter, Violet.”

The tech guys put a picture of her up on the projector behind you. You beamed at it. 

“That’s her. She’s three years old and she’s my everything. She’s the reason I get on stage and in front of cameras. She’s the real reason I don’t crash my car to get out of moving furniture.”

With one final laugh, you bid them goodnight. You took a little bow at the roar of applause and smiled widely. You said a few more thank yous before the spotlight dimmed and you walked off stage to the sound of cheering and clapping. It never ceased to amaze you how far you had come. 

Someone took the mic for you as your assistant approached. She was a recent hire, and something you initially resisted. But now that your name and brand had grown, you really did need the help. Her name was Stacy, and she was incredibly efficient. You liked her, as did Violet, which sold you on hiring her.

“Great show,” she said with a smile. “Vi is asleep in the green room. We’ve got a couple VIP guests for you to meet before we take you both back to the hotel.”

“Alright, lead the way,” you replied.

You followed her to another room backstage where you saw a group of men. Most of them had their back to you, but one face, you recognized. Gwilym Lee, who you considered a friend, even though you hadn’t spoken in a while.

Before you had really thrown yourself into standup, you did a bit of acting. You and Gwilym shot a pilot of a sitcom that unfortunately never aired, but while filming, you had become really close. You even felt like he was flirting with you a few times, but back then you were nowhere near ready to start a new relationship, so you’d kept things strictly platonic. Nowadays, you mostly liked each others pictures on Instagram as your main form of communication. But life was busy for both of you. You were on tour and he had gone on to films.

You started to smile but then froze when the man next to Gwilym turned his head. You grabbed Stacy’s arm harshly.

“Holy shit is that Brian May?” you wondered.

She chuckled. “Yeah! The VIP guests are Queen and the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Shut the fuck up!” you cried. “Really?!”

“Yep,” she assured you. “Go on in and say hello.”

Your stomach dropped with nerves. Again, you shook yourself free of them and donned your stage personality. Slipping into that mask was where you were most comfortable. While you talked about the things you had endured in your comedy, there it was lighthearted, and you did not have to face it head on. You could throw a joke out and dodge it. 

“Well, hello!” you said brightly as you entered the room. 

They all turned eyes on you and smiled as you were introduced. Brian May and Roger Taylor were without a doubt the most thrilling to shake hands with, but Rami Malek, Joe Mazzello, and Ben Hardy were also exciting. When it came time to shake hands with Gwilym, you offered a warm, friendly smile. 

“It’s great to see you again,” you said. “It’s been two years or so now?”

“Just about,” he replied. “You were wonderful.”

“Thank you!”

“Gwil was the one who convinced us to come tonight,” Joe explained. “He said you were hilarious on set when you filmed before.”

“That’s sweet,” you replied. “It is a shame that show never took off, it was a good one.”

“I certainly loved it,” Gwilym said. 

You chatted with them for a bit. They all were calming to be around. Brian and Roger were complimentary of your bit about Under Pressure, which eased some of your nerves about the set. Even though you were, you didn’t feel like you were putting on a show for them. In minutes, it felt like they were your friends. 

The door opened shortly after and in walked Stacy, hand in hand with your very sleepy daughter. She clutched her stuffed dog close to her chest as she ran right to you and crawled into you lap. You wrapped your arms around her and held her close, kissing the top of her head. She eyed the guests warily. 

“What are you doing awake, sweetie?” you asked gently, stroking her hair. 

“She woke up for a little while,” Stacy explained. “I tried to get her back down but all she wanted was Mommy.”

You smiled. “That’s okay. You can have Mommy whenever you want her.”

She snuggled into your chest, turning her face away from the strangers. 

“You don’t want to say hello?” you wondered, and she shook her head. You looked at the guys. “Sorry. She’s kinda shy.”

“That’s alright,” said Brian. 

“She’s grown up,” Gwilym said. “Last time I saw her, she was just learning to walk.”

“Oh, yeah,” you remembered. “She actually walked right into you during a scene.”

You both chuckled at the memory.  

“The director was almost mad, but she was so cute,” he continued. 

He knelt down in front of you and gently touched her arm. She turned her face to just barely peek at him. 

“Hi, Violet,” he said sweetly, smiling at her. “It’s been a while.”

Her brow furrowed. 

“You were still a little baby,” you explained to her. “But you’ve met Gwilym before.”

She relaxed and looked between you and him. 

“Daddy?” she questioned. 

You stiffened and cleared your throat uncomfortably. Then shook your head. 

“No, baby,” you told her. “No Daddy.”

She pouted at you and then hid her face again. You looked apologetically at Gwilym, who shrugged it off. He started to get up, but hesitated to pick something up off the ground. It was your letter that had been in your pocket. He held it out to you. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You quickly took it, your face flushing with embarrassment. Even though there was no way he knew what it was, you still felt really shy about the whole situation. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, not meeting his eyes as you stuffed it back into your pocket. 

“A letter?” he questioned. 

“Just some particularly touching fanmail,” you lied. 

“Not enough people write letters anymore in my opinion,” said Roger. 

“Why sit and write a letter when you can send a text?” Ben replied. “It’s much faster.”

“Yeah, but I sort of miss the anticipation involved in letter writing,” Brian said in agreement with his bandmate. 

You continued to visit with them as Violet slowly fell asleep again against you. For a while, you felt Gwilym’s eyes on you intensely. His expression was odd. It appeared he thought he knew something more about you. It made you shift in your seat a few times before at last, he seemed to let go of whatever question was burning in his mind. 

They visited for about another half hour before you really did need to get back to your hotel, and so did they. You said fond farewells to all of them, reassured them that you would see the movie, and then it came to Gwilym. 

“We’re in New York for a few days,” he said. “Let me know if you’d like to get coffee or something and catch up.”

“That would be great,” you replied with a smile. 

You gave him a side hug since you had Violet on your hip, sleeping soundly. Her stuffed dog slipped from her hand but Gwil caught it before it hit the ground and handed it to you. 

“Can’t have that,” he said lightly. 

“Thank you,” you returned, taking it. You looked at all of them. “Have a wonderful night, guys. It was so great chatting with you.”

They all bid you one final farewell. Gwilym was the last to leave and you shared a lingering look with him before he closed the door. You continued to stare at the spot where he disappeared, realizing now how much you had missed him these last couple years. 

“Ready to go to bed?” Stacy asked. 

With a yawn, you nodded, and she ordered an Uber to take all three of you back to the hotel you were staying in. It wasn’t far from the venue, since you would be doing three shows there this week before moving on Boston. Stacy eyed you with an odd smirk as you stared out the car window. Finally, you looked at her. 

“What is it?” you asked, a bit snappier than you intended. 

“You and Gwilym Lee seemed to have a little something going on,” she said with a sly smirk. 

You rolled your eyes. “We just knew each other a couple years ago. Besides, you know I’m...involved with someone.”

“Ah, right,” she said, rolling her eyes now. “The ever elusive Dear Friend.”

“Hey, if anyone’s elusive, it’s me,” you said. “I was the one who made the arrangement what it is.”

“Y/N, you write letters to some mystery man,” she replied. “He could be anyone. Gwilym Lee is a real person and right in front of you.” 

“Dear Friend is a real person,” you argued. “I’ve just never met him.”

“And yet you’re convinced he’s your soulmate,” she returned. “I just don’t get it. How can you fall in love with someone through paper?”

“You don’t understand,” you said. “You’ve never read his letters. He’s so...eloquent and smart. And I can be myself with him. I can share my deepest thoughts and desires without any fear of judgement. He does so with me as well. It’s a real connection. The strongest I’ve ever felt with anyone.”

“You don’t know anything real about each other,” she insisted. “Not your names, not your jobs, where you live-”

“Those things don’t matter,” you cut across her. “The real stuff is deeper than that. And that’s where Dear Friend and I meet.”

“Whatever,” she said dismissively, weary of having this discussion yet again. “You’ve got your family reunion on your last day in town. I suggest you find a man in person to go with you. If you show up without someone again, I think your mother will actually lose her mind.”

You considered this. She was right, your mother absolutely hounded you about your romantic life since Violet was born. You told her you weren’t ready since your marriage had left you so scarred. You didn’t tell her about Dear Friend, though, since you knew she could never understand something like that. Plus, you had only been corresponding for a year.  

“I think Gwilym would go with you,” Stacy said, nudging you with her elbow. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of hiring some actor to be my boyfriend,” you replied. “I don’t want to expose Gwilym to my family. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”

She chuckled. “At least take him up on the coffee. I really think you should explore your options in case this Dear Friend isn’t who he says he is.”

“I will take him up on the coffee,” you assured her. “But it’s not a date. In the meantime, find some poor struggling actor to go with me and get my mother off my back.”

“I’m on it,” she assured you, already looking through her phone to get started. 

You reached the hotel at last. You took Violet to your room, bidding Stacy goodnight as she went to her room next door. You tucked your daughter into bed and kissed her on the forehead before heading over the desk. You pulled out the letter from Dear Friend that was still in your pocket and read it once more. Then you pulled out your stationery and pen to begin your reply. You were halfway through your letter when you remembered Gwilym. 

You opened your phone and pulled up his number, which you had from your days of being coworkers. You opened up a text to send to him and found yourself blanking on what to say. You had written paragraphs to Dear Friend, but when it came to asking someone to get a simple cup of coffee, you had no idea how to phrase it. It made you all the more certain Dear Friend was your person. Words came easily when talking to him. 

You went with your stage personality. You sent a casual, “Is tomorrow too soon for that coffee?” with a silly emoji. Then you returned to your letter. Gwilym texted back almost right away and suggested meeting around nine in the morning, which you agreed to. Then you finished writing your letter and sealed it in an envelope for Stacy to send off in the morning. 

The letters always took some time. One thing you knew about Dear Friend was that he was from the UK. The PO box you sent the letters to was in London, but you could also tell from the way he spelled things. You often teased each other about these differences. So of course, they took longer to send and receive. But, you agreed with Brian May that the anticipation of getting one was one of the most exciting parts of the experience. 

Another benefit of him being across the pond meant that your opportunities to meet were few. In fact, you hadn’t had one since you started writing. It was a bit of a relief. You knew you loved Dear Friend, but keeping him at arm’s (well, ocean’s) length felt safest. And after your brutal marriage to Violet’s father, Henry, being safe was of top priority for you. And yet, the desire to be with Dear Friend grew daily. It just terrified you to face the reality of it. 

The next morning, you dropped the letter and Violet off with Stacy while you went to meet up with Gwilym. You went to a local coffee shop and ordered. You paid, and he protested, but you insisted, and assured him that he could get it next time. You grabbed a table and started talking. You told him you were still living in Los Angeles and that you were mostly doing shows out in California. You tended to avoid New York, since Henry and his friends and family were still there and he was still an NYPD officer. You couldn’t avoid it on tour, though, nor your family reunion. You told Gwilym about the reunion, but not the part about you ex-husband. 

“You’re hiring someone?” he asked, baffled. “A stranger?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Some guy that was rejected from Broadway or something. I’ll pay him, and we’ll come up with a story for my mother, and then the next time I see her I’ll tell her how we tragically broke up.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll do it for you.”

You blinked. “You really don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “We’re friends. I know meeting strange men is difficult for you.”

Gwilym knew that Henry had abused you because you talked about it in your sets. You never got into gruesome detail, although you had confessed a few things to Dear Friend. You talked on stage about not dating because of what you had been through. It was extremely kind of Gwilym to offer this, and you weren’t sure how you could thank him. Your comedian mask slipped on again. 

“I’m not sure I can afford your rates, Mr. Lee,” you teased. 

“How much was my coffee?” he returned. 

“Five dollars,” you told him. 

“Well, it turns out, for friends, I offer a discounted price of five dollars,” he joked. “So, consider it payment for the coffee.”

Your brow furrowed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Really, it’s fine,” he reassured you. “It’s just one day.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” you said, seriously. 

He raised a curious eyebrow at your tone. 

“I mean, it’s just one of the nicest things,” you continued, blushing once again under his gaze. “You’re a very generous person, Gwilym.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “Or you’re just still getting used to kindness.”

You smiled, unwilling to go any deeper. 

“Let’s chalk it up to a combination of both,” you said lightly. 

You finished your coffees and headed to the door. He had to go to an interview and you were going to take Violet around the city since the weather was nice. As you hugged goodbye, you smiled up at him. 

“See you Saturday?” you asked. 

“Saturday,” he affirmed.

[dani-aka-that-one-namechanger]

@totallycorrectghostpokemonquotes here ya go XD

Froslass: Gengar, you would not believe what I saw this morning when I was folding laundry! It was the most amazing thing!

Gengar: Was it the ghost of Rotom rising from the grave to take the region back to its proud Kantonian way?

Froslass: No. No, it wasn’t.

Gengar: Shame…

Froslass: It was an alien!

Gengar: WHAT?!

Froslass: I know! I just got done starching and I saw it! It was so bright and so shiny and I almost dropped the iron on the cat because it was so amazing!

Gengar: And you’re sure it wasn’t Spiritomb and the Russians?

Froslass: No sweetie, I’m sure it wasn’t Spiritomb and the Russians.

Gengar: Well, damn again… now how should I know that what you saw was actually some sort of extra-terrestrial and not some sort of weather balloon or Soviet Russia's Invasion?

Froslass: Because I’m your wife, Gengar, not some power hungry communist or a big weather balloon flying around.

Gengar: But you’re a woman.

Froslass, laughing: Of course I’m a woman sweetie!

Gengar: …Right. But there’s no way of confirming what you saw was an alien coming to Earth or not.

Froslass: Well I saw it, and… and Polteageist across the street saw it too! We were both doing our laundry and we both saw it at the same time!

Gengar: Hmmm… another woman. I’ll call up her husband Shedinja, we fought together back in the war and he should be able to confirm what this whole ordeal is about.

Froslass: Perfect! I’ll go and make deviled eggs and Jell-O pudding and talk politics! Maybe even this time I can vote for myself.

Gengar: Great idea! I love Jell-O pudding! Let me call Shedinja up right now. *Talking to Shedinja* Hello Shedinja, me and my woman here would like for you and your woman to come over and talk about things. Alright. Sounds great. See you at 4. Arceus Bless Kanto. Death to Spiritomb. Okay. Buh-Bye. *to Froslass* They’ll be here at 4. I’m going to read the newspaper.

Froslass: Do you think she’ll make something? Last year when we were celebrating the 4th, do you remember when she brought the tuna fish casserole? I never thought to use onions! Onions of all ingredients! And then she brought the quilted napkins and I told her, I said “Polteageist, I just can’t belie-“

Gengar: Null matters woman, her tuna casserole tasted like pesto and regret. Don’t bother me anyway, as I am reading the newspaper. Oh, seems here, a bird Pokémon named Decidueye wants to make Pokémon equal.

Froslass: He’ll probably get shot somewhere in Cerulean City.

Gengar: You’re probably right. Says here Sears and Roebuck are going to make more catalog houses in the area. They’ll never go bankrupt!

Froslass: No chance!

Gengar, laughing: Ah… I trained you right.

*Shedinja rushes in*

Shedinja: Gengar!

Gengar: By Arceus, Shedinja! I haven’t seen you since the war!

Shedinja: Still smoke without a filter?

Gengar: Still a lazy drunk that cries when your mother writes?

Shedinja: You dog! So good to see you!

*Polteageist enters*

Polteageist: Did somebody ask for tuna casserole!

Gengar and Shedinja: NOPE!

Froslass: I did! Oh and it smells the same as it did last year!

Gengar: You two go off and do something feminine while we talk about things we believe are too logical for you to understand.

Froslass and Polteageist: Okay!

*Froslass and Polteageist leave*

Gengar: So Shedinja, when I go home today, Froslass said the wildest thing to me!

Shedinja: Did Rotom rise from the grave to bring Kanto back to its true form?

Gengar: Sadly no.

Shedinja: Damn.

Gengar: But what she did say was particularly peculiar and that’s why I wanted to have you over for dinner. She said she that she along with your wife, saw an alien in the sky this morning!

Shedinja: An alien, you say… not a communist invasion lead by Spiritomb?

Gengar: No, I already got rid of that idea.

Shedinja: Weather balloon?

Gengar: That too. What I’m worried about is that if she is right, we’re going to have to tell the paper, and then there’s going to be people everywhere and the military is going to come…

Shedinja: Not to mention that we’re going to have to admit they’re right.

Gengar: That too! I just haven’t been able to make up my mind on whether she saw an alien or not!

Shedinja: Here’s an idea; let’s eat dinner and test them to see if they actually saw aliens. If what they say makes sense, we’ll call the paper and tell them that what they saw and… *rambling*

*Froslass and Polteageist enter*

Froslass: We’re back, you two!

Gengar: *to Shedinja* But they’re women!

Froslass and Polteageist: We are!

Froslass: Gengar, I don’t know why you keep saying that. I’m obviously a woman, you know… how we’re trying to have a baby…

Shedinja: You found a good one.

Gengar: I really did.

Shedinja: Mine just wants to talk about artifacts all the time.

Polteageist: You know Gengar, I’ve been meaning to ask you about where you got your little Tapu fellow at, he’s just so cute!

Gengar: You weren’t kidding.

Shedinja: Not one bit.

Gengar: I hope she has good child-bearing hips. Do you folks want to start dinner?

Everyone: Of course!

Gengar: Great. Froslass, take it away!

Froslass: Okay. What do you want me to take?

Gengar: You- you- you- Just bring the food woman.

Froslass: Oh… okay!

Shedinja: Like a dog, Docile.

Gengar: Exactly. Polteageist, would you mind saying grace? I feel like I haven’t heard a word from you this evening!

Polteageist: That’s how you boys like it! I’ll start if you insist. Dear figure of omnipotence, may you rest in peace somewhere peaceful, like Poni Wilds or somewhere close to that.

Froslass: I hear Alola is quite nice this time of year.

Polteageist: And they have the world’s biggest artifact museum in their region!

Shedinja: Hush woman! Proceed.

Polteageist: Anyway Mr. Arceus, I hope you can do all the things we want in the world or something like that. Also, I really hope my casserole doesn’t flop, last 4th of July, I put way too much pesto in it.

Gengar: I told you, Froslass. I told you.

Polteageist: Oh, and don’t forget to get rid of my dad’s cancer. Amen!

*silence*

Gengar: That was beautiful Polteageist. Now let’s dig into this tuna casserole and-- OH MY ARCEUS!

Froslass, Shedinja, and Polteageist: What?

Gengar: AN ALIEN!

*a ridiculously colored Blacephalon enters*

Blacephalon: Hey guys, did I make it into Alola?

*everyone starts screaming*

Gengar: By Arceus!

Froslass: It’s an alien!

Shedinja: From another planet!

Polteageist: That somehow speaks English!

*silence… then contunied screaming*

Gengar, holding a chair: Fend off, satanic being or this chair will be perpetually stuck in your face!

Blacephalon: What do you mean?

Gengar: I mean, I will beat the devil outta you, you devilish foe!

Blacephalon: Why are you talking like that?

Gengar: I… Don’t know.

Blacephalon: Well anyway, do any of you guys know where Alola is?

Polteageist: Why do you want to go to Alola?

Blacephalon: Well, you see, I was initially planning on Galar but then my other alien friend, Lunala, was all like “Nah, man, Alola.” and I was all like “Alola?” and she was all like “Alola!” so yeah…she died on entry but I still wanted to play the slots, ya know?

Froslass: We’re in Kanto.

Blacephalon: Now how far is that from Alola?

Froslass: Very far… from Alola.

Blacephalon: Oh…

Shedinja: Listen here, you white freak! What’s going to happen to you is that I am going to go next door, grab my M1, come right back here, and shoot you in the face!

Blacephalon: No, you’re not.

*Blacephalon kills Shedinja*

Gengar: By Arceus! Why have you done this? Such horror is none I’ve ever seen before!

Blacephalon: Look, buddy, you really gotta stop talking like that. It’s weird.

Gengar: You’re weird.

Blacephalon: Uh, yeah. I’m an alien. So, I killed him because he was going to kill me first. And I’ll kill you if you keep talking like that. *starts mocking Gengar*

*Froslass and Polteageist laugh at Gengar*

Gengar: That’s not fair.

Blacephalon: Well, life isn’t fair, kiddo. Trust me, I’ve been alive for 3 million years.

Gengar: That explains the wrinkles-

Blacephalon: Thin fucking ice Gengar! You are walking on thin fucking ice!

Gengar: Wait, how do you know my name?

Blacephalon: The person writing this script made an error. Listen, what I’m going to do is that I’m going to take a straight shot from here to Alola, making a stop for some Kantonian BBQ, make a fortune on slots, and spend the rest of my life as an alcoholic in Hau'oli City. This *kicks Shedinja* never happened.

Froslass: Wait a second… make a fortune?

Blacephalon: Yeah baby. You, me, and all of the money in the world!

Polteageist: Can I come along? I hear Alola has the biggest artifact collection in the world!

Blacephalon: Sure thing suga, go outside and warm up our ride.

Froslass: You fly an alien spaceship?

Blacephalon: Actually, I rented a Buick. It’s got leather seats though!

Polteageist: Leather?! *knocks over Gengar to EXIT*

Gengar: You- you can’t just do that to me!

Froslass: I’m sorry Gengar, it’s just that he’s so charming and he’s going to make good money, and his Buick has leather seats!

Blacephalon: So does my regular spaceship.

Froslass: And his spaceship too!

Gengar: That is kinda cool. Just one thing before you take my wife and go for BBQ and slot machines…what planet are you from?

Blacephalon: *puts on MLG glasses* Planet Cool. Come on woman, let’s go eat some brisket and make interstellar love, ratio 2 to 1.

Froslass: You had me at brisket!

Blacephalon: Oh, and don’t forget that tuna casserole, Gengar. I smell pesto!

*Blacephalon and Froslass leave arm-in-arm*

[notthefilmreview]

So...I’m obsessed with NEVER HAVE I EVER now and I’m not mad

Hey it’s Dana and I’m procrastinating my school work (because even the lockdown can’t stop my teachers from giving me work - how great!) so I’ve decided to watch a bit of the new Netlfix series NEVER HAVE I EVER which (after a google search) I found out is created by Mindy Kaling!

(However, by the time this post goes up I’ll probably still be procrastinating but for a whole different set of school work! Yay for me, I guess!)

I actually really have no idea what it’s about except for the fact that the title is a game I used to play with my friends to find out some gossip about their love life and vice versa which was often uninteresting because we never really had much to say. In conclusion, American High School romances have lied to me all my life about games like Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever (it’s either that or me and the people around me have just lived fairly uninteresting lives...sounds plausible).

Anyway, read on to read about me reacting to NEVER HAVE I EVER the series for the first time!

Let’s just take a moment to appreciate how pretty Devi is; her hair is goals; orange is her colour; she has such a cute smile; she is thriving! 

Also, I do love the religious diversity and the Indian representation.

Hahaha! Okay this first scene is quite funny and the arm hair thing is so relatable if you have dark hair; I envy people with lighter hair!

But, what is it with people and always wanting to be invited to parties??? They’re seriously not that fun and I often leave with a headache and an empty stomach. At first, they are quite entertaining but after a while (when you’ve told every single story about what you did in your summer holiday and stuff about your dog) you’ve run out of things to say and just awkwardly stand there until someone - and there is always someone - finally mentions school and now you’re that group of people talking about school because there’s nothing better to talk about. Or maybe that’s just my experiences with parties - I don’t know (I haven’t been to many lol).

Hey, that’s Mona from DC’s Legends of Tommorrow!!!! Omg! is this why she left the show???

Ahhh and Devi is not only a Hindu and an Indian-American but she is also a wheelchair user - Mindy is out there just trying to give everyone all the representation we need!

Oh - so she managed to walk again after trying to see a hot boy’s chiseled jawline behind a car? Hmmmm...seems plausible.

I’m also getting a really 80s vibe that seem quite common in Netflix movies and tv shows (like Sierra Burgess Is A Loser) but I know it’s meant to be in the 21st century.

Lol I’ve never heard that before but it made me choke on my food. Imagine people bullying you and calling you the UN - the political slander, the international slander. Omg I love this show so much.

I don’t really thinkl Devi should care if Ben thinks she’s unbangable because she is only 15 so she doesn’t exactly need to have banging as her number one priority.

Yassssssss strut queen!

The heels things is extremely relatable; I’m already a clutz while walking in flats but when I put on heels I’m falling all over everywhere (you should’ve seen me dance at my Year 11 Prom lol). Devi is wearing really high heels - I seriously could never so good for her!

So Paxton just says yes to having sex with her? What? Is this how it works? Is it that easy? 

I’m so confused.

So I’m thinking that maybe there’s something more to Paxton than meets the eye. Maybe he’s a shamed virgin (which isn’t really as much of a problem as Hollywood tries to convince us) or maybe he might do a 360 and publicly shame Devi.

What I know, is that Paxton might end up having feelings for Devi after this (because this is how romance works, guys). Also, Devi might back out of having sex with Paxton.

So we’re onto episode 2 which is titled “...had sex with Paxton Hall-Yoshida”, making the title make more sense to me now.

Devi is casually just reading After which coincidently is also on Netflix (marketing strategies?).

*Love is in the air* (I was waiting for LGBTQ+ representations and I know this may cause some conflict with Devi’s plan for them all to get boyfriends butttttt in the long run, once Fab comes out to the gals they’re all going to accept her - at least I hope).

That blonde girl is too cute with her pixie hair cut omg I already love her so much and I haven’t even heard her talk.

This is the only love at first sight that I accept (this and The Half Of It, of course).

(Also the blonde’s eyebrows are beautiful; I want them so much).

This is the guy from Supergirl who played Lena’s old scientist boyfriend (and ruined all our lesbian Lena backstory but I did like him as a guy).

I like how Devi’s PTSD over her dad’s death is really being explored slowly.

Also, I knew that Devi would back out of having sex with Paxton and why does she always get cuts on her on her legs? is this symbolism? to do with her leg? and her mental state? am I reading too far into this?

Let Kamala be the beautiful biologists she deserves to be without an arranged marriage with a man whose family just wants her to be a wife.

We also shouldn’t forget how Devi’s mother’s feeling after her husband’s death. She may seem so strong on the outside but we all know she’s breaking on the inside and I hope that her and Devi can have a heart-to-heart about that.

Personally I think the blue ones...

Awww I think Paxton’s sister (Rebecca) and Devi are going to become good friends and I’m excited to watch it happen ahhhhh!

I’m thinking that Ben and Devi are going to become friends which would be quite sweet considering their rivalry.

Ohhhhhh Kamala has an asian boyfriend??? I’m officially attached; we need to end this arrnaged marriage; she needs to be with her boyfriend.

Awwwwww this is beautiful. I love Devi’s mum so much, she deserves love and attention.

Okay so we’ve now met a more human side to Paxton with him explaining that he’s been quite protective of his sister ever since she was adopted. And they’re not going to have sex (even though Devi told her friends that they did have sex) which is really going to cause major conflict.

Anyway, I should probably actually do some work now so bye!

MAJOR EDIT: So it turns out that I did work for about half an hour then decided to watch the rest of the season without reviewing as I go (because I was even lazy to do that lol). I did not think that I would actually finish the whole season in one go; I thought that I would just watch the first couple of episodes until it felt too awkward to watch the rest. Nevertheless, I watched the rest of the the season and I already want a new season to come out so badly!

Firstly, let’s deal with Paxton. 

So I thought that Paxton would make a massive U-turn and start being less of a douche (as his sister Rebecca - who is just so deadpan with him that I just love her more and more - puts it) and more of a sweetheart who has some type of depth to him. Yes, he does seem to have depth in the way that he’s not just some hot guy on the swim team who’s always mean to everyone because he is usually nice and doesn’t forwardly go out of his way to bully anyone (and I also give points for the fact that he is half asian and not a nerd because we need our dumb asians to replace London Tipton in our hearts). 

The problem is that I’m just confused about him. Why does he always come to Devi’s aid whenever she’s in trouble? What is his purpose? Why does he turn up at her doorstep when she doesn’t answer his text messages? 

I’m particularly confused (and also extremely worried) about that last question because it’s just weird and uneccessary to turn up to someone’s house when they don’t answer your messages. Maybe I would have let him off if he did it once but this guy does it soooooo many times that it’s started to become a bit creepy. Like chill. Seriously. Not everyone is constantly on their phone to text you back instantly and sometimes I’ve even not answered for a couple of days but you don’t exactly see anyone knocking at my door like “hey, Dana, answer my texts - I wanted to know what fucking ice cream you like”.

Basically, it’s just creepy and I feel as though they’re trying to use that to use that as him essentially developing feelings for her but now he needs to lay off because Devi’s got her eyes on Ben now.

Okay so Ben is what I’m excited for now. The next season will most likely focus on their love triangle and maybe devlop Paxton more to possibly make us really confused on who Devi should choose. Personally, I think she should choose Ben at the end of the day. 

Ben started off as Devi’s nemesis and I never really paaid much attention to him at the start because I thought he would just be there for a bit of comedy and to push Devi out of her comfort zone. It turns out that he has pushed Devi out of her comfort zone, in a different way of course (but when they kissed and the camera started panning down I thought they they were actually going to start having sex and I was like omg, whoa, I shouldn’t be watching this but also it would kinda be fulfilling to see Devi choose to have sex with this guy who actually wants her and actually likes her in that moment, fully forgetting about Paxton - it was actually just panning down to another call from Paxton).

I did see a glimmer of something between them but I thought it was just going to be a friendship to add to her group but I’m not mad at how it actually ended.

I feel as though we as the audience will route for Ben more because of that episode that completely centered him, which showed us just exactly how hard Ben’s life is. It was this episode and the Model UN episode that made me think that they might make this a thing (and there was also the fact that he tried to kiss her twice at his house).

It’s also an added bonus that Devi’s mum thinks so highly of Ben because it means she probably won’t have to hide him from her. While, yes, dating a guy who your mother doesn’t like (such as Paxton) is a symbol of rebellion and thriving outside of your family’s hold sometimes it’s not the right option if they turn you into someone completely different. Ben and Devi have this relationship in which she can be her complete self around him and not have to hold anything back or do anything in order to please him. They challenge each other, trust each other (especially with Ben driving her all the way to Malibu and STAYING), and understand each other to a level that Paxton just can’t seem to relate to.

Kamala’s breakup with Steve seemed really out of the blue with her really trying to stay away from an arranged marriage, to plain falling for the guy on the other end of the arranged marriage. Although she did say that she doesn’t want to marry yet I’m still really confused on why she dumped Steve but told Prashant that she likes him. I feel as though it would’ve made a bigger impact if she told both guys she didn’t want them and wants to focus on her aspiring career as a biologist.

I say that but I do see the sparks between Prashant and Kamala with them having a lot of things in common.

I want to end this fairly long review of the entire season 1 of NEVER HAVE I EVER talking about this girl right here, an absolute legend, a queen, the girl who wear a white suit to a sleazy high school party: Fabiola.

This girl is such an icon and her gay panic after summoning (yes, summoning) her whole family to tell them she’s gay (only to end up telling them she switched from AP French to AP Latin) made me both laugh so hard and feel so much pain for her.

When she finally told her mum that she was gay, I panicked. I had to mentally prepare myself to watch this woman shout, cry, question - even disapprove - of her daughter. Instead, what we got was a mother who accepted her daughter and told her that she’s only ever wanted to make her happy. It just made me realise that all that time her mother spent trying to get into her daughter’s love life (after thinking she had a boyfriend) was her version of trying to bond with her daughter and understand her and basically just be a mother.

Well, you know what, she is doing a great job as a mother and I’m so happy for Fab because I know when her mother finds out about Eve (if she hasn’t already) she is going to try and get all the gossip from her daughter and try so hard to take her shopping for clothes that’ll make her look good for dates with Eve (and I am thriving for this).

Her mother’s approach almost reminds me of the mother from Ackley Bridge (if anyone knows that show) who tried to get to know what being a lesbian really is like for a girl by going to one of the most gay areas in the UK. That was just an iconic moment and if you haven’t seen Ackley Bridge go watch that because it’s really good (at first though, after a while it gets a bit trash and you’ll understand).

I hope that season 2 comes quick (but it may not be for a while) and fingers crossed Ben and Devi are endgame, Kamala sorts out what she wants in life, Eleanor finally has a stern talk with her mum, and Fab and Eve finally become official (unless they are already) and we see a story more focused on them.

[fanficimagery]

Home Is Where the Heart Is

#288 “I thought you were dead!”

Summary: Searching for years, Hallie Potter has finally found the one person she's been looking for. 

Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Michonne are tiredly working, stabbing walker after walker through a chain link fence where they all seem to have congregated. Carol and Maggie have all ready tried drawing the dead's attention elsewhere so they didn't weigh down the one portion of the fence they seemed to be favoring, but it didn't seem to work for long. The dead ended up coming back to the fence line and pressing against it.

"Why do they keep coming, man?" Glenn asks, grunting as he struggles to pull free his crowbar. "We've quieted the kids and the animals aren't making any noise."

"Don't know, but if they keep comin'," Daryl mutters, "they're gonna tear down the fence."

"Keep workin'," Rick tells them. "They'll thin out."

Michonne frowns. "Yeah, but not fast enough."

Before anyone else can complain, boom after boom resonate from across the field.

"What now?" Rick groans.

Suddenly a dog starts barking.. and a lion roaring. Wait.. a lion?

"What the hell is that!?" Glenn shouts.

Carol and Maggie come running through the gate as if the hounds of hell were on their heels, eyes wide. From the the tree line, an actual female lion steps forward. But instead of eyeing up the humans, it roars and pounces along the tree line, and it slowly draws the attention of the dead.

"What the hell..? That ain't normal." Daryl walks further down the fence so the walkers aren't blocking his view. "Where'd it even come from?"

Slowly, but surely, the walkers follow the roaring lion and the invisible barking dog. The lion eventually disappears into the tree line once more, only for a woman to come charging out and wielding a sword.

"Shit," Rick frowns.

They watch as the woman slices through the dead, one right after another. She moves slightly faster than any of them are capable of, but even with her speed the amount of walkers she's attracted seems like they're about to overwhelm her.

"So do we help her?" Glenn asks, gaze darting from his group to the crazy woman with the sword.

Michonne grips her katana tighter. "Whatever you decide, decide it fast. They're going to kill her."

But before the walkers can all converge on her, there's a bright red light, a thunderous boom, and the ground beneath the walkers explodes upward.

Everyone's staring in shock, but Daryl's eyes squint in suspicion. "Wait a minute," he mumbles. He tries to get a better look at the woman and sees something he recognizes. "HALLIE?!"

The woman freezes and glances towards them, head tilting to the side. "DARYL?!"

"Fuck." Daryl and the woman are running towards the gate then, the woman named Hallie stabbing and slicing at any walker in her path. "I thought you were dead!" He shouts again when she's closer.

"You wish, Dixon!"

Daryl makes it to the gate first, he scrambling to open it just as the rest of his group stops behind him. "We need to help her," he says without glancing at the ones he calls family. "You can trust her."

They say nothing as the gate is swung open, instead the members from the prison community working to drop the walkers once and for all. They make quick work of them, and covered in blood and guts they watch in surprised awe as Daryl scoops up the woman named Hallie in his arms.

The woman is laughing, tears leaking from her shut eyes. She has the oddest shaped scar- was that a lightning bolt?- on her forehead and long, dark hair braided down her back. Jaws drop when the woman finally pulls back, only for Daryl to drop her and then claim her lips in a kiss.

"Uhh.. what?" Glenn muses. "What is going on?"

Maggie grins. "I'm wondering the same thing."

Carol beams, nudging the couple in good humor. "Stop. They're cute."

"They can hear 'ya," Daryl then grunts. The prison group all grin as they watch him tuck the woman under his arm. She’s short compared to the hunter. "Everyone, this is Hallie. Hallie, this is Rick, Carol, Michonne, Maggie, and Glenn."

Hallie smiles, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hullo."

If they're surprised at her British accent, no one mentions it.

After everyone introduces themselves and Hallie waves at all of them in acknowledgment, Daryl then glances down at her. "When did 'ya get back? Anyone else make it out?"

Hallie's smile falters then, but before she can tell him what he wants to know, the shout of, "Dad!", has jaws dropping yet again.

Daryl whirls around. "Teddy?" A lanky teen emerges from the tree line and Daryl takes off in a sprint.

Left alone, Hallie chuckles at everyone's gobsmacked expressions and then even more so when Teddy barrels into Daryl and knocks him over into the field. "Teddy's my godson," she explains. "His parents passed away when he was only a few weeks old, so I helped his grandmum raise him. Andy was too old to take care of a child, so she signed over custody to me."

"And he calls Daryl his dad?" Glenn says. "That's.. weird." Maggie smacks his arm and Hallie smiles at them.

"Teddy was introduced to Daryl when he was only two what with the Dixon's being our neighbors at the time. We dated over the years and eventually married, and-"

"Whoa. Wait, what?!" Glenn yelps. "Married! You're Daryl's wife!?"

Rick huffs laugh. "This day is just full of surprises."

Daryl returns to the group, a young boy hanging off his back and glaring suspiciously at his friends. "This is Teddy," he tells them. As soon as Teddy drops, he places himself between his parents and smiles innocently. "Don't let his smile fool 'ya. He takes after his goddamn Uncles." Hallie flinches and Teddy tenses, and when Daryl takes notice dread fills him. The group notices too. "Shit. Who's left?"

"Uncle Charlie and Aunt Hermione," Teddy answers.

Daryl quietly curses. "What happened?" Hallie chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment, she eyeing Daryl's group with trepidation and shifting her weight from foot to foot. When she meets Daryl's gaze again, he gives her a terse nod and then looks out towards the group. "Whatever is said next, it's one hundred percent truth." The group he's come to know as family all lose their easy going smiles, tensing. "I had trouble believin' in the beginnin', but it's real. Magic is real."

Glenn is the only one to snort and then everyone is inhaling sharply as Teddy steps forward with a frown, his hair changing from black to red.

Hallie sighs and tugs him back. "Really, Teddy? Did you have to do that?"

He hangs his head in shame. "Sorry, Mum."

Hallie tugs on his hair until it shifts back to black and she tucks him in between herself and Daryl once more. "Magic is real and I only brought it up because what I have to tell Daryl- it would have confused you. I rather get the secret out of the way and talk freely, but if my magic is going to bother you then I'd appreciate it if you let me know now so we can be on our way."

Daryl takes her hand in a show of support, but the group remains quiet. They're shocked, but they're not fearful.

"It's.. odd," Rick says. "But you're Daryl's wife which makes you family."

"Thank you." The group slowly comes around, the tension leaving their shoulders. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to borrow my husband for a bit. We'll be back soon."

Teddy whoops and immediately hugs Hallie- chest to chest- and Daryl groans. The group all seem confused, but Daryl steps up to his wife and son, hugging the both of them to sandwich the boy between him and Hallie. Then with a wink and smirk towards the group, Hallie, Daryl, and Teddy disappear with a pop.

Glenn faints and the group vows to never let him forget it.

When Daryl's feet land on solid ground once more, he immediately lets go of Hallie and stumbles back, dry heaving. Teddy laughs at him and when he straightens up he realizes they're in a well kept home. There's not a spot of mold, nor cracks in the walls, and the air is thick with the aroma of a well cooked meal.

The sound of feet pounding have him turning around and he huffs a laugh when he sees Hermione running down some stairs, but she comes to a halt on the last step. Frowning, she pulls out her wand and points it at him. "Honestly," she sighs. She swishes her wand at him and then at Hallie, rolling her eyes as she puts it away once more. "Are you or are you not a witch, Hal. Clean yourself up before coming home."

Hallie smiles sheepishly and then Hermione's closing the distance between herself and Daryl. She hugs him low around the waist and Daryl's arms go around her shoulders, his face pressing into her unruly hair. "I'm so glad you made it," she says. "The world has gone absolutely mad. I don't know how you survived without the aid of magic."

"It's a struggle, I'll give you that," he says. Daryl slowly pulls back, spying a rather ragged Charlie who has just come in from the kitchen. "Weasley."

"Hey, Dixon," Charlie tiredly says. "S'good to see you."

"You too." Daryl then looks to Hallie. "What happened? You were gone for so long, I thought-"

"I'm sorry," she says. "I only went to pick up Teddy, but ended up staying longer than expected. Then I got a call from Dudley, asking if the illness was man-made or magical, and I had no clue what he was going on about."

"After Dudley called, my mum and dad called," Hermione says. "The dead were suddenly waking up and eating the living, and-"

"You don't have to explain," Daryl tells her when he sees how emotional she’s getting. "I remember when it all started." Hermione smiles tightly and nods, hugging herself.

"The magical community thought to shut us in to keep the spread of the illness out," Hallie picks backs up, "but they didn't count on the illness being spread through the air and infecting everyone no matter the wards. When the first wizard died and then reanimated, it was absolute chaos."

"The Burrow lasted for a while, but a herd of the dead came through," Charlie says. "Magic doesn't quite work as it should on them and the dead got through the muggle repelling charms."

"Jesus," Daryl sighs.

"We lost everyone," Hallie admits. "Hogwarts is still standing- Neville and Luna are actually still there- but I couldn't go there. Not when I knew you and Merle were still out here."

"About that," Daryl then grunts. "Merle's gone. Dumb bastard got 'imself killed goin' after a man that's tryin' to take the prison from us."

Charlie perks up, frowning. "Seriously? Don't they know the living are supposed to stick together in a time like this?"

Daryl's head shakes. "This man- he calls 'imself the Governor. He had his own little town, but we kind of wrecked their defenses when we tried rescuin' one our own. He had her tied up and let loose a walker in the room with her. She didn't make it."

"Oh, Daryl," Hallie frowns, hugging her husband. "I'm sorry."

He briefly hugs her back. "It is what it is. But now he's got a new group of people, and has them convinced the prison was his all along and we took it from him, along with his family. He's going to bring a war to our front door."

Hallie's eyes flash. "Not if he can't find it."

"..what?"

Charlie chuckles, Hermione groans, and Teddy practically bounces in place. "How many people are at the prison?" Hallie then asks.

He shrugs. "No more than fifteen. We tried takin' in the innocents from the Governor's town, but they thought we were cruel or just as cruel when we fought in their town. They either went their own separate ways or attempted to mend the fences around the town on their own."

"Good," Hallie then grins. "There's no more magical governments to keep us quiet about magic, but I still rather tell the minimum amount of people."

"What did you have in mind?"

Hallie slowly grins. "You'll see."

Hallie had then returned Daryl to the prison almost an hour after she had kidnapped him, she leaving Teddy with him. She promised Daryl and Rick that they had nothing to worry about anymore, and went about spell casting around the perimeter of the prison.

"Don't let anyone out until we get back," she tells them. "No human being will find the prison and the fences have been reinforced to hold back the dead. You can all sleep in peace tonight."

Rick seems surprised, but Daryl merely huffs. "You put that muggle repelling charm on the prison, didn't 'ya? That's why you don't want us walkin' out, because if we do we won't find the prison again."

"Got it in one, darling," she winks. "Now go eat and rest in peace. Hermione, Charlie, and I have a house to move, and they're going to reinforce my spells on the prison. We'll start mending the prison and ridding the catacombs of the dead tomorrow."

Rick purses his lips before saying, "You sure no one can find us? We can actually sleep without leaving a few people on watch over night?"

"I'm positive, Mr. Grimes. Be happy, eat, and sleep. Your lives just got a whole lot easier."

Hallie, Hermione, and Charlie actually move their house in the dead of the night, the three of them not wanting to part with their fireplace since it was all ready connected to the floo. Neville and Luna still sent them potion ingredients, and visited when they could, and they hardly thought the prison came equipped with a fireplace of it's own.

Then after placing the house in a portion of the field Daryl's group hadn't seemed to be using, the three magicals went about mending fences and reinforcing them- especially the portion of the fence that was allowing in the dead at the back of the prison. Charlie made plans to cut down wood from the nearby forest to make a sturdier fence that the dead couldn't see through, and Hermione made plans to contact Neville to see if there was a way to purify the soil for better crops.

The sun was just coming up when they decided to chance a trip to the prison, Hermione and Charlie volunteering to cook up a large breakfast spread of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast while Hallie went ahead to warn everyone of their imminent presence.

The heavy metal door creaks open and Hallie isn't surprised to find Daryl all ready awake, her smile faltering and nose wrinkling at the smell of the dead lingering in the air and the stuffiness of heat inside their shelter. Immediately pulling out her wand- with a swish and flick of it- Hallie purifies the air and puts a strong cooling charm on the dining area and corridor where she guesses everyone is still sleeping.

Daryl seems to sigh in relief and his lips twitch. "You made it cold? The others are gonna love 'ya for that."

"They're going to love Hermione and Charlie even more when they get in. We had bacon and sausage that needed to be cooked off."

Daryl chuckles and then walks forward to embrace Hallie. He hugs her tight. "Still can't believe you're here."

"Sorry it took me forever to get back. It was hell over there and then when everyone just.. died, one right after the other, I had to get out. I needed you."

"Mhmm. Sorry 'bout our home. Me and Merle tried stayin' as long as we could, but then they started bombin' the city."

"Don't be silly. Haven't you ever heard that home is where your love is?"

He snorts. "I think it goes home is where the heart is."

"Same thing."

The two continue hugging each other until the others finally wake and make their way into the dining area, Daryl introducing Hallie as his wife to the others who hadn't met her. They're all still a bit overwhelmed with the idea of magic, especially when Glenn goes outside and then stumbles back in with word that there's an actual house where there wasn't a house before. However things quickly calm and all is forgotten when Charlie and Hermione come bearing food.

"So it's really this simple?" Hershel asks- a white haired man that gives off major grandfather vibes. "You wave those sticks of yours and the Governor can't find us?"

Hallie nods, but it's Hermione who frowns. "Technically, yes. But if he's a wizard then he'll still see the prison. Or if he has a witch or wizard in his ranks, they can find us."

"But since it doesn't seem likely," Hallie pipes up, glaring lightly at her friend, "any time they get close to the prison perimeter they'll suddenly remember something and head in another direction. They won't even see the prison. They'll just see a bunch of trees."

"What if they do have a witch or wizard?" Beth frowns- Hershel's youngest daughter.

Charlie grins at the young girl. "No worries, pipsqueak. If this man does have a witch or wizard on his side, the moment they realize we've got Hallie Potter on our side, they'll run."

Hallie punches her friend in the arm. "It's Dixon now, Weasley."

Charlie, Hermione, Teddy, and Daryl all chuckle, and Hallie sighs.

"Not to sound rude, but what's so special about a name?" Glenn asks.

"Because Hallie Potter is famous," Charlie grins and Hallie punches him again. "She, along with my idiot baby brother and the brightest witch of their age," he says while gesturing to a blushing Hermione, "defeated the most evil wizard to ever walk the Earth- all at the age of sixteen and seventeen. No one will want to go up against Hallie Potter. They won't live to tell the tale."

All eyes dart to Hallie, surprise and awe in their gazes. She blushes even harder and tucks her face behind Daryl's shoulder.

"Cool," Carl breathes in awe.

Charlie nods. "Right? Settle in, muggles, and prepare to hear the tale of the Girl Who Lived."

[timeisacephalopod]

Hi 'tis I the thunderiron whore.....😂 So for the au fic ask otp thunderiron with yellow color please.

Yellow= dragon/ shapeshifter AU

**

“Does anyone know what Thor’s form is?” Tony asks.

Natasha shrugs, painting her nails in disinterest. Steve looks like a confused eagle, fitting considering his shifter form is an eagle. And he’s born on the fourth of July. And his favorite color combination happens to be red, white, and blue. He resents being so violently American considering he has a long list of problems with the country but everyone else thinks its funny. Especially considering his best friend is named after two US presidents. Guy was basically set up to be the most American American in the country.

Rhodey rolls his eyes though, “what’s it matter? He’s not topping dragon for cool forms, you’ve got pretty much everyone except the five other dragons in the world beat,” he points out.

Yeah, Tony was annoyed with that. He used to be the only one but then Wakanda showed up drunk to the party with four more dragons so screw them. Even if he thinks Shuri is the best and, for the first time maybe ever, he finally gets the opportunity to learn about engineering from someone else. Also, her dragon form is black and silver and its totally badass. His is red and gold, not yellow, gold. He and Shuri did a photoshoot once just because they look awesome standing next to each other. Thor has like fifty of the pictures taped to his wall because apparently he can’t be assed to buy frames. Which, that’s Thor for you.

“Yeah, but we’re all shifters and we know everyone’s form but his. We even know Loki’s,” he points out.

“That’s because Loki has tried to eat no less than five of us as a wolf,” Clint says.

“Well, whatever it is it can’t be worse than Clint being a gold fish,” Bucky says.

“Actually Scott being an ant is absolutely worse.” He didn’t even know that was possible, being an insect in another form. It is, obviously, but its exceedingly rare- almost dragon rare. Which really does make being an ant that much more insulting. Imagine having one of the most rare shifter forms in the world but you’re an ant. Tony would kill himself in shame. Probably by drowning in a cup because he wants to go out dramatically. Rhodey would probably fish him out though.

“Yeah, imagine being a dingo. People keep fucking screaming ‘a dingo ate my baby!’ at me,” Rhodey says, imitating the terrible Australian accent that often gets thrown his way.

“People keep trying to harvest my scales by either breaking into my house or straight up trying to harpoon me so,” Tony shrugs. “I don’t think you have it the worst.”

“Okay, but what if Thor has like. A super embarrassing form?” Natasha says, turning to Tony. “As his boyfriend you’re legally obligated to suck his dick and find out, immediately reporting to us that he’s a plankton or something.”

“I think he could be something more embarrassing than that,” Bucky says. “Like a jellyfish.”

Clint frowns, “jellyfish are cool.”

Bucky’s eyebrows draw together, “jellyfish have no brains,” he tells him.

“Oh, so that’s what your form is then,” Clint says, snickering.

“Clint, you’ve literally pet me outside the VA. You know I’m a chocolate lab,” Bucky says, confused.

Clint looks confused and a little horrified. “Wait, the one armed lab outside the VA is you?” he asks and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“How many one armed vets do you know that go to that specific VA that are also chocolate labs, Clint? Yeah the fucking dog is me. Explains the weird baby talk thing you do but I ignored it because you pet ears good,” he mumbles.

Rhodey smacks a palm to his forehead and sighs. “Can’t be worse than people trying to pet you,” Tony points out. “Only the Australians know the danger of the dingo.”

“Yeah, true, but also I don’t bite. I’m not a savage,” he says.

Yeah, he only bites if he gets real pissed off and of the five times he’s bitten someone there’s an eighty percent chance it was Justin Hammer. Fifth time goes to Obadiah and it hadn’t been pretty. He should be lucky it was Rhodey over Pepper because he’s seen her hunt as a cougar, she’s fucking terrifying and she wouldn’t have taken Obadiah down like Rhodey had, she would have straight up eviscerated him. She genuinely doesn’t like job hunting so she probably wouldn’t take too kindly to her boss and also best friend being murdered.

“This is why I like being a dragon,” Tony says, “no one walks up to a house sized lizard and thinks ‘hmm, looks like my friend’s gecko I’ll pet it.’ One of the few perks, aside from looking totally badass.” Downside? People try to kill him a lot because dragons scales are the most valuable material on this planet. Next up goes to vibranium. He doesn’t much care for being more valuable than vibranium.

Natasha rolls her eyes at them. “Suck Thor’s dick. Find out what he is. Tell everyone,” she tells him. “That’s your mission, go get it done.”

**

Tony curls up with Thor watching some backing show he doesn’t give a shit about but Thor’s into it. Tony doesn’t mind because he makes really good sweet tarts and Tony likes fruits more than most other things. Not surprising, considering his form.

“How come I’ve never seen your animal form? I’ve seen Loki’s but not yours,” he points out. Subtlety isn’t his thing and he doesn’t think sucking Thor’s dick will put him in a better mood, he’s almost never in a bad mood to begin with. Unless Loki has done something to fuck him up, or on the rare occasion Hela appears dressed like she killed her husband for his money and she’s ready to kill her family for theirs too. Which is surprisingly likely. Tony finds it weird that, technically, Thor is the black sheep of the family. His older sister? Dark hair, mental issues, ready to kill at a moment’s notice. Loki? Technically adopted, but has dark hair, mental issues, and is also ready to kill at a moment’s notice. Thor? Blonde, always chipper, and is the human embodiment of being a ray of sunshine.

“You’ve seen my form,” Thor mumbles, avoiding the subject in such an obvious way that even Tony can’t miss it.

“Thor. No I haven’t. And your brother tried to eat me twice, so you can’t be worse than that,” he says. His guess? Thor is a lab but he’s self conscious about it because labs are a popular dog form. Usually golden labs, chocolate labs and other color variations like Bucky’s are more unusual. But that’s his theory, that Thor has a common form that he’s embarrassed about and that’s why no one has seen him in his shifter body.

“It is,” Thor says, looking away in embarrassment.

“Dude. Clint’s a fucking goldfish. If he’s not standing in a dish of water when he changes he’ll die. There is no way you have it worse than that. And Steve’s form just goes to make him even more violently American. And people consistently try to kill me. We’ve all got weird shit going on, I’m sure your fine. Honestly the only ones who don’t have weird things going on are Natasha because lynx cats aren’t exactly interesting and Bucky, because labs are cute. Even Rhodey has it strange with people accusing him of eating babies.” He so resents being a dingo of all things and its worse because he looks exactly like a dog. A weird dog, but a dog. Children try to pet him sometimes and generally it results in a ‘do not for the love of god pet a dingo’ lessons just in case they bump into an actual dingo.

Thor sighs, “you have to promise not to laugh,” he says.

“If you’re like a chinchilla or something they’re cute,” Tony tells him. “And soft.”

“I’m not a chinchilla,” Thor mumbles, prodding Tony to get out of his lap so he does. Thor pulls himself off the couch and walks over to a clear spot in the living room.

There’s many things Tony would have expected, but none are what he finds. He doesn’t laugh as he leans over and calls Thor over, grinning as he happily trots over and lets Tony pick him up.

**

Natasha’s phone rings and she frowns as she looks at the video call from Tony but she answers it. “Say hello to Thor,” he says, pointing the phone at…

“Is that a chihuahua?” Clint asks.

Thor looks at Tony, then the phone, and back to Tony with a betrayed look on his face before he lets out a vicious growl and launches his tiny body at Tony’s phone. The call drops and they all stare at Natasha’s phone for a moment. “Well, he’s dead,” she says after a moment. “I call dibs on his sports cars.”

“Dibs on the baseball memorabilia,” Steve says.

“I want the mansion,” Clint says.

“Dibs on the suits,” Carol says and frowns when the guys give her a funny look. “What? We’re the same size and he wears Gucci. I’ve always wanted a Gucci suit and I think I’d look better in them than he does.”

“Beware the boob gap with the button downs though,” Natasha says and Carol groans.

“Ugh, the fucking boob gap! I’ll figure it out.”

“Excuse you,” Rhodey says. “I am his best friend so I get dibs on all his shit. I want the red Ferrari, I don’t give a shit about baseball so Steve can still have all that, fuck you Clint I get the mansion and the lab in the basement, Carol you can have his suits because everyone else is taller than him so no one will fit into his clothes anyway. And before the rest of you call dibs on anything it goes through me you damn vultures.”

**

When Tony shows up at the door he doesn’t look happy. “Since you legally obligated me to figure out what Thor’s form was you’re officially legally obligated to house me while I’m in the dog house post violent chihuahua attack,” Tony tells Natasha.

She shrugs and lets him in. Clint snorts, “well its not Thor’s dog house you’re in, you can’t fit inside,” he says, snickering at his own joke.

“Shit, I’ll be honest. I’m not even sure Sam could fit inside and he’s a bird so. Yeah, poor guy really got fucked over,” Rhodey says, shaking his head.

“Still not worse than Scott,” Tony says and everyone shakes their heads.

“Nah, being that big and intimidating as a person and that small and useless as a shifter? That’s the worst. You wouldn’t get it because you’re so tiny,” Carol says and Tony glares at her.

“Oh fuck off, we’re the same size!” he snaps.

Carol shrugs, “yeah, but spiritually I’m much taller.”

[szyf]

So I never got a chance to see a Bonnie and Clyde musical, but how would it fit with rosebird?

oh. oh god. ok i wasnt expecting to get asks but

i call it the musical version because the musical has a condensed and easier to understand timeline. also the music is just really good and is REALLY fun to imagine as rosebird.

for some background before i shove everything under the cut:

raven = clyde

summer = bonnie

qrow = buck (clyde’s brother)

tai = blanche (buck’s lover)

ozpin = ted (a sheriff that has it Out for clyde. in the musical, ted and bonnie have some weird romantic thing going on in the beginning. we’re ignoring that in this au)

anyways, this is not fleshed out AT ALL bc i wrote this all out at around 2 am last night and i’m just really used to having all my rosebird aus (there are. so many in my head) to myself, so trying to write this one out was oddly difficult. if you want to know more, listen to the musical! or ask me more about specific events if you want. the complete plot isn’t down here because God there’s so much and i only wrote out about 3/5ths of it. ENJOy my incomprehensible rambles!

raven and qrow are two delinquents in the texas town of mistral during the great depression who are known for robbing small stores and stealing cars. one faithful day, the twins get arrested for automobile theft– but break out soon after.

they each go their separate ways, qrow heading home to see his husband tai, and raven decides on going to vale, a larger city in texas. as she roams the streets, she soon meets summer rose, a waitress with a broken down car! 

the two have an instant connection, and raven agrees to fix summer’s car in exchange for a lift to vale. soon becoming star-crossed lovers, the two decide to stay in mistral for a few days before leaving for vale. raven’s aloof exterior did nothing to stop summer from being drawn in, though. she tells raven everything– her dreams of becoming an actress, her fondness of poem writing, and her wish to leave mistral and start anew. raven takes interest in this, and falls hard and fast. raven promises summer a life of fame and prosperity, and just like that, summer agreed to leave her life in mistral behind and decided to join raven in her journey to vale.

let’s check in on tai and qrow!!! qrow made it safely back to tai’s house, yet tai wasn’t very accepting of the fact he broke out. tai convinces qrow to turn himself in, and qrow agrees as long as he gets to stay for a few days. in the meanwhile, raven wants to recruit qrow and tai to join her and summer in vale. raven makes her way to qrow, and is ecstatic to see her brother again. they talk about going to vale, until qrow reveals he’s turning himself in.

raven is NOT happy.

she calls him a coward, she calls him weak, and storms off angrily with summer by her side. though, her anger is short lived, seeing as ozpin (a well renowned sheriff) manages to catch raven, and sends her back to jail.

raven is sent to a higher maximum security prison while qrow is given a reduced sentence for turning himself in.

summer is utterly heartbroken, and just wants her raven back. summer was always a good girl– kind, talented, and a bit of a dreamer. not to mention she was beautiful. so when summer resolves to breaking raven out…… yeah, shit hits the fan.

smuggling raven out was a fucking MESS, considering how stubborn raven is. she keeps insisting she can do it herself, but she’s honestly in no condition to do so. she isn’t exactly the Top Dog in mistral’s maximum security prison. so, summer takes things into her own hands and is like “fuck it ill break my dumbass gf out myself”.

it goes a little like this: summer smuggles one of raven’s guns into the prison, shoots the warden that guards raven’s cell, and the entire time raven is just kinda. In Big Love. though shooting the warden was a bit of a panic move, and summer is so apologetic and guilty afterwards. imma b real, it causes an entire crisis within summer.

the point is: raven is out of prison! buuuuut, now they have to leave mistral WAY sooner than planned. soon enough, they’re speeding to vale in summer’s car, stopping at any convenience store along the way and robbing it. promptly, they become the infamous duo who… oddly haven’t killed anyone in these heists yet!

SIKE

during a grocery store robbery gone wrong, raven accidentally murders a cop trying to “play hero” and summer is FRENZIED. filled with shame and guilt over what she did while trying to break raven out, she snaps. summer is Not happy with raven, and finally makes the choice to leave. raven begs her to stay, telling her it’s too late to turn back now, and summer realizes raven is right. she loves raven too much to leave her.

im honestly too tired to continue this, plus the rest of it isn’t as fleshed out as i’d like it to be, but look up the bonnie and clyde musical! it’s really good.

[thesilverstaganddoe]

The Beginning: Psychology and the Law (Killing Eve Fic) Chapter 4

AO3 Link Chapter [1] [2] [3]

Chapter 4: Missed Connections (So this chapter is a bit Mature. Just a heads up.)

Come Monday morning, Eve was plowing through some tedious grade changes when the door to her office flew open and a slightly frazzled looking Oksana landed in the chair beside her desk.

“Eve. Can I talk to you? It’s about a sex thing.”

“Um,” Eve was still processing Oksana’s sudden arrival when she was presented with the question. “Sure?”

“So I went to the lesbian bar in SoHo last night, you know the one.”

“I don’t actually.”

Oksana continued on as if Eve hadn’t spoken. “And I took this girl home, of course, because that was the point, you know.” Eve stared at Oksana; she was already having trouble keeping up. It was way too early and Oksana was talking way too fast for such a conversation. And the topic absolutely warping Eve’s mind. “And so we slept together, obviously. And she ended up sleeping over which I wouldn’t normally want but she passed out and I didn’t feel like waking her up so whatever, who cares. But then I wake up this morning and she’s freaking staring at me. She was watching me sleep. And then as soon as I wake up and look at her she starts sobbing hysterically.”

Oksana paused and it took Eve several moments to grasp that her expectant look indicated she was looking for some sort of response.

“Okay...that’s not good.”

Oksana rolled her eyes. “Yeah, duh. So I was like, ‘Uh did your arm fall asleep? Because if it hurts you should just massage it.’”

“What?” Eve asked, completely bewildered.

Oksana rattled on, “And she did stop crying for a second and just stared at me like I had two heads. But then she started crying even harder and telling me how her husband didn’t really love her and he was probably having an affair so she’d gone out to find a woman because she was mad at him and wanted to make him angry and jealous or something and also thought that if she could tell him a sexy lesbian story then maybe he’d be attracted to her again, I guess. But then apparently she realized last night that she’d never had an orgasm before in her life, which how is that even possible you can do it yourself, because apparently, according to her, he didn’t care about her needs and would never even consider going down on her. So she told me that I’d changed her life. Apparently. And then she couldn’t talk anymore and just kept crying.”

Eve’s head was spinning.

“What did you do?”

“I patted her on the head and told her it was nothing special, all men are stupid.”

Eve burst into laughter. “You did what ?”

“I patted her on the head,” Oksansa said, as if was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Like a dog?”

“I suppose. That should be comforting right?”

“I...you...I don’t even know what to say. And you told her all men are stupid.”

“I just wanted her to stop crying in my bed! And men are all stupid. Most people are stupid.”

“Some people like them.”

“Yes, I know that, that’s fine. I’ve tried them a couple times, I suppose they’re not entirely terrible. I just can’t imagine marrying one. How do you even have a conversation with them?”

“I married a man. We had conversations.”

“Yes and you also divorced him.”

“Well, would you marry a woman?”

Oksana glanced off to her side, seeming to consider her response. “I’m...not really a relationship person.”

“So, no.”

“No, I don’t think I would.”

There was a minute or so of slightly uncomfortable silence where neither of them looked at the other.

“Was the sex at least good?” Eve clamped her mouth shut as soon as she said it. The question had been dancing around in her head as Oksana had talked but she really hadn’t intended to actually let it slip out. Oksana seemed more than happy to answer, though.

“It was for her. I made her come three times.” She grinned, looking very pleased with herself. “But she didn’t really seem to know what she was doing. Or she was already on the verge of crying and too distracted, I don’t know. I had to finish myself off. Really the whole thing was a let down, I’m going to have to go back out tonight.”

Eve gulped. That was way more information than she had expected and she didn’t want to think about any of it. Oksana going down on the other woman, doing such a good job that she came multiple times. The other woman pleasuring Oksana, or at least trying to. Oksana, sexually frustrated and resorting to putting her fingers between her own legs. Oksana moaning and bucking her hips.

Eve squeezed her eyes closed and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“For God’s sake, Oksana.”

“Too much?”

“No, it’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“She was boring, too,” Oksana told her, “Vanilla.” She was clearly trying to mess with Eve.

“Oksana!”

“Well, what are you into?”

“Nothing weird.”

“That’s a shame.”

Eve gave her a look. “I’m pretty sure you have some fairly high standards for considering someone not vanilla.”

Oksana returned the look with a smirk. “And I’m pretty sure you’re lying about ‘nothing weird’. Even if you’ve never actually indulged in anything.”

“Oh. My. God. Oksana.”

“You keep saying variations of that, but you’ve yet to actually tell me to shut up. I think you’re entertained. Maybe you need to watch porn, Eve. I could recommend something.”

Eve closed her eyes again and leaned back in her chair, sucking in a deep breath. “Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“Eh.”

“Go to class, Oksana.”

Oksana laughed. “Fine. Cheers, Eve!”

Eve opened her eyes again just in time to see Oksana wink at her before exiting the room. Eve threw her head back against the chair’s headrest and groaned.

————-

When evening came, Eve briefly thought about texting Oksana to see if she wanted to go for drinks, but she figured she was probably out, looking for another, more successful hookup. She’d strongly implied that was her plan, at least.

Eve flopped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. For some reason that she couldn’t quite explain, she felt frustrated. The longer she lay there, the more she found her thoughts drifting to her conversation with Oksana from that morning. She tried to distract herself, think of other things, talk herself into turning on a show or working on some grading, anything else. But her thoughts continued to drift.

Her eyes fell closed and she could see it, Oksana straddling the faceless woman, hands braced on either side of her head, kissing her. It would have been hard, passionate, fierce. That seemed like Oksana.

Eve could only imagine Oksana’s body under her clothes, but still she could see it, the vision playing out behind her eyes. She had large, perfectly rounded breasts, perky, fantastic - Eve had noticed that much. More than that much. Her waist was small, but not too small, just right to curve perfectly into her hips, perfect for someone to rest her hands on them, squeeze her fingers in, pull them together.

Eve sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes tighter shut.

Oksana would be a good fuck, she’d made that clear, not that Eve wouldn’t have been able to guess as much herself. She’d be slow, taunting. Kiss the woman’s hipbones and look up at her with the same expression she had when she was pressing Eve’s buttons. She’d wait and tease and kiss soft skin, but never get close enough until she heard the woman beg. And then she oblige, tongue, lips, hands.

Suddenly the images morphed in Eve’s head and it was no longer a faceless woman beneath Oksana, it was Eve. It was Eve’s hands twisted in Oksana’s hair, Eve’s hips bucking up against Oksana’s mouth, Oksana’s fingers slipping into Eve.

Eve’s fingers trailed along her own stomach and paused at the waistband of her pants, finger tracing the button. She couldn’t. But she ached and really she’d already gone too far in the fantasy at that point, anything else she did would just be a drop in the bucket.

The button was undone and her fingers were there and it was a welcome relief, desperately needed. And she thought of Oksana crawling up her body to kiss her, bite her lip, as her fingers - Eve’s fingers, Oksana’s fingers - moved against her. She moaned, imagining Oksana’s lips brushing against her own as she told Eve to beg.

————

Oksana was pacing around her own apartment. She felt restless, in an undefinable mood. She’d told herself she’d go out that night, make up for the gravely disappointing hook-up the night before, but something just didn’t feel right about it. She threw herself onto her bed with a sigh and grabbed her phone from her nightstand. Her fingers hovered over Eve’s contact for a moment but eventually she sent a text:

Hey, want to get drinks?

She turned the ringer on and tossed it to the other side of the bed, rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Restless. Bored. Uncomfortable. Dissatisfied. Frustrated. Something.

There was no response from Eve, even when Oksana double checked the phone, so she began aimlessly scrolling through her photos. The weekend before she’d convinced Eve to go out shopping with her and there was a stream of photos she’d taken in the dressing room, trying to convince Eve how good she looked in a dress Oksana had picked out.

She had truly looked fantastic in it and Oksana was only more convinced of that as she looked back through the photos. Mostly it was Eve, she had a very nice body and Oksana had told her as much, but Eve didn’t really seem to believe her, which was why Oksana had pushed her to get the dress. Eve didn’t dress as well as she should for someone as beautiful as she was and she would probably like herself a lot more if she did. Oksana had lots of suggestions.

Oksana paused on the last photo and bit her lip. After that photo she’d undone the zipper for Eve. It was a tight dress, the kind that did an incredible job of hugging Eve’s hips and thighs and ass, and was not the easiest thing to unzip by oneself. She’d done it slowly, admired the curve of Eve’s spine, wished Eve hadn’t been wearing panties with it, but grateful she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her back was smooth and Oksana had wanted to run her hand down it, settled her hands on Eve’s hips, wrest her chin on Eve’s shoulder, kiss her neck. Anything.

She wished Eve had turned around. Wished she had been facing the mirror when she slipped the dress off, wished she could have seen her whole body. Wished she could have seen her face. That was when she’d told Eve how nice her body was. Eve had seemed uncomfortable and Oksana had almost regretted saying it, but Eve needed to be told.

She set the phone aside and closed her eyes. Almost involuntarily, her hand was slipping below her waistband and before she knew it she was gasping, bucking her hips into her own touch. She wondered if Eve would beg, beg Oksana to touch her, beg to touch Oksana. She came as she imagined it.

It wasn’t the first time Oksana had gotten herself off to thoughts of Eve and despite telling herself every time that it wouldn’t happen again, it probably wouldn’t be the last. Eve would be horrified if she knew. But she never needed to know.

————-

Three orgasms. Then a break. Then two more.

Eve lay on her back, hand on her stomach, breathing heavily. Once her heart rate had slowly returned to normal, she picked her phone up off the nightstand and checked the time. It had been over an hour and she’d missed a text from Oksana.

Hey, want to get drinks?

Apparently Oksana hadn’t gone out scouting for dates after all, or at least she hadn’t when she’d texted Eve. She’d probably gone ahead when she’d failed to receive a response. Eve set the phone back on the nightstand without responding. She felt a little guilty, not just for missing the text, but even more so for what she’d just done. Oksana probably wouldn’t be mad if she knew, though she would certainly tease Eve until the end of time, but it still felt wrong.

Eve rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head with a loud groan. The real question was how she was going to look Oksana in the eye the next day or any day after that.