#this is going to hit hard with the buddie edits when they finally go canon

[mischiefbuckley]

Buck: “I guess I can only hope to find something that good”

Thomas: “You don’t find it son. You make it”

Buck after Thomas passes away and sees him holding Mitchell’s hand: “That’s love”

THIS FREAKING SCENE!!!!!!!!!!

Like you have Buck who again is very much characterized as a womanizer at this point in time looking at a gay couple and seeing them and their love story and referring to that as love like… Buck has and will always be a bisexual character and anyone that says otherwise clearly isn’t paying attention to all the small details the show literally demonstrates on screen from the very beginning

Like one of the main arguments from people against Buck’s storyline in season 7 with him coming out as bisexual and people against the storyline saying that “this came out of nowhere” like how do you view this scene clearly from all the way in season 2 of Buck getting emotional on a call over a gay couple that passes away together and calls it love and not get any indication at all that it was very heavily queer coded scene for Buck because he clearly says “That’s love” and we see him specifically in this scene sitting with Thomas while the team is handling the situation at hand with Mitchell and then when it comes to finally handling now Thomas passing away a few moments later, we see Buck get the scrapbook of the photos of memories they had together and it all just adds to the wording and the volume and the emotion of Buck going on to say “That’s love” like c’mon what aren’t you seeing here it’s so loud it’s insane

[canonicallyobserving911]

Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 27 will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I'm in the final stage of completing it and after I do, I'll proofread and edit it then I'll post it on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Currently 26 chapters completed: 1M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

{#1 Previous snippet}

{#2 Previous snippet}

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I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 27 because at the end of Chapter 26, while Buck was sleeping, he made a sound that Eddie hadn't heard before then he immediately sat up in bed and called Eddie's name. He was in a daze when he did and to Eddie, Buck appeared to be still dreaming but since his eyes were open, he started talking to him to get his attention.

They spent the majority of the day before in the hospital after Buck collapsed in Eddie's arms and suffered a bradycardia event of epic proportions. He was unconscious and unresponsive after he received a package that was delivered to the firehouse while they were in Europe. Once he opened it and read the letter, he reached the part where it stated someone died and it reminded him of his own death and it triggered the event.

All three members of the Diaz family are supporting one another as Buck faces the fact that he died last year and as he proceeds to deal with all 7 stages of grief.

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Here's a romantically fluffy and almost smutty snippet from Chapter 27 of Buck and Eddie being head over heels in love with each other.

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Buck breaks the sound barrier first and admits, “Eddie, I love you, so much.  Do you know how much I love you?”

“I do.”  He smiles and stretches his arms out as far as they’ll go and replies, “This much.”

“More!”  He whispers as he moves closer and positions himself so he’s on top of his husband. He leans down and kisses him passionately and after he pulls back, he looks him in the eyes and says, “I love you to infinity and beyond.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows.  “My love… did you just hit me with a line from the movie “Toy Story”?  Didn’t Buzz Lightyear say that?”  Eddie knows the movie and the line because Chris watched it over and over again when he was 6 years old.

Buck laughs and Eddie does too and before they know it, they’re both crying from laughing so hard.

When their laughter subsides, Buck says, “Yeah… he did but it’s the only way I could think of to describe how much I love you.���

And who is Eddie to refute that.  “I love you to infinity and beyond too” then he lifts his head and presses his lips to Buck’s and when he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, he opens for him.

The kiss is tantalizing and magnificent because it’s filled with love, passion and devotion and when Eddie rolls his tongue like he rolls his "Rs" when he speaks Italian and Spanish, Buck thinks his heart’s going to explode in his chest because he wants to feel his husband all over him.

It’s been more than a week, actually it’s been 13 days but Buck thinks who’s counting, then he realizes he has and he can’t wait for Eddie to be buried deep inside of him again.

After more than a minute, they break it because they need to come up for air and when they do, Eddie looks at his husband and he wants to make love to him so bad right now but in the back of his mind, he hears, “You know you aren’t supposed to” but his heart and the bulge in his pants causes him to breathlessly say, “Ciò che vuoi!” [“Tell me what you want!”]

“VOI!  [“YOU!”]

And that’s all it takes for them to crash their lips into each other’s again and for Buck to start undressing his husband while speaking Italian in his ear.  “Voglio che tu faccia l’amore con me!” [“I want you to make love to me”].

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat but then everything that happened and was said to them on Monday comes back to the front of his mind like a whirlwind.  He gasps and after he catches his breath, he whispers, “Amore mio, we should st—op!”

Buck keeps kissing that soft spot underneath his earlobe that drives him wild and after he scrapes his teeth over it, he asks, “Don’t you want me because… I really want you?  Eddie, I need you!”

Without hesitation, he admits, “Of course I—I do… I always want you, more than anything but you know we can’t… not right now.  We have to wait until…”

Why did Eddie tell Buck they have to wait to make love? 🤷🏽‍♀️

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Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-26 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 27 will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I'm in the final stage of completing it and after I proofread and edit it, I'll post it.

[beskarberry]

Bargaining with Beskar (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“Alright, space cowboy, your turn.” You nodded towards the bulge that had made his baggy canvas pants grow tight, and he followed your gaze with what you guessed was surprise. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, hmm?”

Rating : Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: canon-typical violence (bounty capture) smut: captured bounty sex, rough play (soft choke), fingering, pent up sex.

Summary: You’re an ex bounty hunter just trying to escape the guilds radar long enough to spend a hefty reward, but a another bounty hunter has other plans for you. Can you convince him to let you go with only your charm, or will you find yourself in carbonite?

Authors note: I wrote this in a fury in the middle of the night so it’s messy and very very self indulgent. It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything so if I need to tag something tell me!

Edit: This fic started on another blog of mine but I moved it here to keep it consistent for when I add more chapters.

Next->

You'd had a good run.

It was a hard opportunity to pass up, the high profile bounty you had been charged to bring in had been able to contact their family shortly before you had captured them and the family offered to pay you handsomely for their return, easily triple what the guild was going to pay for this bail jumper. You’d taken the deal, but that meant you would be returning to the guild empty handed. Maybe if you laid low for a while they'd forget.

Of course that was a stupid thought, within weeks you had noticed rookie hunters on your tail.  Word had gotten out that the bounty was walking free and a sloppy bounty hunter was a liability to the guild. After evading all of the green-horns for a time the more experienced hunters began tracking you, and your only choice with them was kill or be killed. They should have known you wouldn't go down quietly.

Months passed before you saw another hunter, hoping against hope that they had given up. It wasn't until you had gotten somewhat comfortable on Tatooine that the last one came.

You were far outside of Mos Eisly, the sandy city was barely a smudge on the horizon from where you were laying low doing repair work on a moisture extractor when he arrived. The machines engine was so loud in your ear you never heard him coming up over the dune, though through the scope of the pulse riffle he carried you wouldn't have heard him anyway. You cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt,

-crank.... crank.... c-CRZZT-!

Electricity coursed through you,  your first thought was that somehow you had made a connection with a loose wire and shocked yourself, but it was soon obvious that whatever had electrified you was strong enough to paralyze you, causing you to drop down onto the ground. Your fingers were still twitching when you heard bootsteps coming over the sand, but you were unable to stand, instead you worked to shake the electricity running through you.

"Th-thi-think I hit a whi-wh-wire there, I- I- I- I'll get it fi- fixed." you stuttered through clenched teeth, thinking it was the moisture farmer that had hired you coming to see if you were ok. The pulse was wearing off quickly, and you were able to jerk your head enough to make visual contact with the boot of the man approaching you, but these were not the boots of a farmer, they were the boots of a bounty hunter.

"Oh fuck" you tried to scramble to your feet, but you were still jarred from the pulse bolt that had hit you. The man above you wasn't going to wait for you to get your footing, and kicked you over onto your back with one bandoliered boot, then kneeled into your gut with the other, knocking the wind out of you. Still twitching with electricity he snapped a pair of binders on your wrist before hauling you to your feet. You struggled in his grasp, a combination of convulsion and fear made you squirm like a womp rat in a trap, but his grasp was too strong. Suddenly there was cold metal pressed against your side, the barrel of a blaster digging into your ribs.

"Move it." A man of little words but quick and to the point, the blaster barrel forced harder into your side to accentuate his point. He ripped your supply bag off of your shoulders and stuffed a leather clad hand into the belt of your canvas pants to fish out your hidden blaster. Rude. He shoved you toward the barren wasteland of the dune sea, unable to argue with the barrel digging into your ribs you both set off in a brisk pace across sands.

"Whose p- paying you?" You sputtered, still feeling the after effects of the pulse bolt. "I can pay you m- more. I made three ti- times the bounty the guild would pay and I would g- gladly split it with you." Bargaining was your only option at the moment, arms and legs like jelly and unable to put up a good fight. The hunter said nothing, continuing to half march half drag you over the sands. "I bet half is still more than double what they're paying you now, so whad’dya say? Wanna go splitsies?" Still nothing. You huffed, dragging your legs in the sand as best you could to slow him down, but a quick jab with the blaster barrel had you singing a different tune.

The pair of you marched on for a couple hours through the dunes towards a rocky outcropping, you continued making offers of credits and services but never once did he respond, choosing instead to shank you with the blaster or shove a hand into your back to remind you of your current position as his prisoner, without letting you get so much as a peek at your captor. Before long you both had made it to the rocks, and hidden behind them was the saddest looking star ship you had ever seen. It was pre-Imperial you were sure, standing dusty and dented in the fading double sunset. The fact that it had survived atmospheric reentry was a surprise in itself. Like hell you were getting on that thing. The bounty hunter shoved you forward towards the ugly ship, letting go of you just long enough to press a couple buttons on his vambrace to open the entry ramp. It was now or never.

Tired and dehydrated as you were from your trek across the dunes you knew this might be your only chance. You tucked in your bound wrists and made a run for it, kicking up sand in your escape. You were fast but he was faster.

-fwip!- SNAP! Something had caught your leg, yanking your feet out from under you and forcing you to do a faceplant in the rocky sand with a thud. You whipped around to find that he had shot you with some kind of grapple, hauling you back towards him by your ankle you were finally able to see who had caught you.

Is that the Mandalorian? From Karga’s cantina? Of all the hunters you had seen in your travels, Mandalorians were a breed all their own. The stoic hunters had frequented the ramshackle cantina on Navarro that you had visited a handful of times in your earlier days of hunting. You’d started to recognize one in particular that frequented the guild post often. His beskar helmet was shiny unpainted silver, but the last time you had seen him the rest of his armor was a dingy reddish brown. The thought was fleeting as you struggled to escape being dragged by the grapple but once he had you back in his grasp there was no denying it was the same man. He was covered almost head to toe in bullets and beskar, all the way up to the familiar shiny dome of it that covered his entire head. You were able to get an excellent view of its craftsmanship as he pulled you back up to your feet and marched you backwards into the old ship, the black shimmer of his visor never leaving your face. You stumbled over your own feet, fighting with the last bit of your strength for one last chance at escape.

“Mando! Remember me? From Kargas? On Navarro? Yeah yeah heya buddy! Hey hunter to hunter you don’t actually want to bring me in, I just know how much you ~looove~ talking with that old cantina crook and the, uh, paper work! Yeah paper work is suuuch a headache! I’ll just slip on out of here and we can both avoid a bad time, sound good?” Though you knew who he was you’d never spoken to this man in your life, and he of course wasn’t going to entertain your pleas, but it was the best you had. You were pushed backwards through the ship, past supply crates and what looked like the guts of a protocol droid towards what you could only guess was a carbonite chamber. He tossed your supply pack somewhere into the bowels of the ship without ever taking his gaze off you. Panic found a few last drops of adrenaline to pump through your veins as you neared your impending doom. Your silent captor backed you into the chamber, puffs of fog billowing out from behind you as the machine fired up. You had to get out, thrashing in his grasp and kicking against the walls of the chamber with every last bit of strength you had, but just like the armor he wore, he himself was unbreakable.

The bigger hunter was becoming fed up, frustrated with your squirming and never ending bargaining; he needed you to hold still long enough for him to hit the activation sequence so this hunt would be over. He let go of your bound wrists and pushed a leather clad hand up against your throat.

“~Ahh~!”

The noise that escaped your mouth made you both freeze, you just as shocked as he was. Your cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassed that in your current state of capture such a filthy noise had been coaxed from you. You squeezed your eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over and let the carbonite freeze you into oblivion, but its chill never came. You slowly opened one eye to glance at the armored man, but he looked like he was the one that had been frozen.

“What was that?” His voice was like gravel coming through the modulator of his helmet, and you flushed red again at his question, looking between the corners of his visor where you thought his eyes might be.

“Don’t worry about it, tin man.” you croaked, “Just hurry up and let’s get this over with.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, hoping that the darkness behind your eyelids was enough for you to vanish into. But you felt the hand leave your neck, coasting down to your bound wrists and tugging you out of the carbonite freezer. Unable to really argue with him you followed his pull on shaky legs, looking at the unreadable face for a sign of his intentions. Once you were free of the chamber he pushed you up against the nearby wall and held you in front of him, completely motionless.

You were confused, embarrassed, and now suddenly frustrated. Was he really going to drag this out for stupid questions? He stood like a statue, the visor of his helmet felt like its gaze was trying to bore a hole through your skull. You stared at him, then to his hands, and last down to his blaster before looking back up to his visor. You watched as one leather gloved hand slowly made its way back up to your neck, giving it a firm squeeze like he had done before, but you wouldn’t fall for that trick a second time.

“Do it again.” came a rumbling voice from deep inside the beskar, but this time it was lower, more measured and full of something that made your heart do flip-flops in your chest. A sinful thought came to you, maybe you would be able to escape after all.

“You’re going to have to work for it, no more freebies” a sly smile crept over your face, earning a tilt of the helmet that made you feel like you were being inspected by a large bird. Your hands were still locked together, but you brought them both up anyway to wrap your fingers around the armored wrist that still leaned against your throat. Immediately his other hand went for the blaster and its barrel was trained on you in a heartbeat. “Easy...” you whispered  showing both of your raised palms in a sign of peace. He kept the blaster trained on you as you gently grabbed his wrist with both hands, pulling on it to guide it down the front of your shirt. When his hand reached your breast, you pushed his palm into the supple mound, rewarding him with another breathy sigh.

Something like a huff whispered out though his modulator, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the whirring of the ships innards, but you knew what you heard. The blaster in his other hand dipped away from you slowly before finding its spot back in its holster. Once it was safely away his free hand came up to grab at your other breast, earning him another encouraging sigh. Without letting go of the front of your shirt he carefully spun you away from the carbonite freezer and walked you backwards towards one of the supply crates that littered the hull until it bumped up against the back of your knees; prompting you to plop down on it. You leaned back, arching your bound arms over your head to give you some kind of leverage while he toyed with your breasts.

“Y’know they’re even more fun without the shirt.” you chided. The mandalorian took the hint and ghosted down to the hem of the tunic you had worn to blend in with the other farmers. It was thin and yielded easily as he pushed it up over your breasts, the flesh of your nipple puckering in the cool air of the ship. The shiny black of his visor never left your chest, only tilting side to side as he took both of them in. His leather gloves were soft and warm on your skin, gently pinching at your nipple and pulling on them just enough to cause your breast to bounce when he let go. He grabbed at the pillowy flesh, groping and rolling your sensitive buds between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers. All the while you made good on your word, making soft sighs to edge him on. Though you knew this was supposed to be your escape plan, you couldn’t help the way heated pooled in your belly, making you squeeze your thighs together and rock your hips. The armored man noticed the way you were squirming and let his hands wander down from your breasts to the hem of your canvas pants.

“Well? Don’t leave a girl waiting.” You rocked your hips up at his hands, trying to get him to take the hint. His expert hands that had wielded fierce weaponry so well now seemed to falter at what he was supposed to do next. His fingers were slow undoing the button and zipper as if he'd never taking someone else's clothes off before, before pushing them down until they were around your knees. The sudden hit of cool air made you instantly aware of just how hot you had become under his groping. You used your knees and heels to push your pants all the way off, kicking your muckboots off with them and opening yourself up for him to get a good look at you.

His body was stiff, the visor of his helmet staring down at your heat, he was so still you could swear he was holding his breath. Suddenly his gaze made you feel vulnerable, as if he didn’t like your display. You moved to start closing your legs when a strong hand shot out to grab your knee and hold it in place while he continued to gawk at you. He likes what he sees you realized, heat flushing to your face and your cunt. Again you rolled your hips from side to side, trying to entice him. What’s he waiting for?

“Please...” you gave him your best impression of a needy virgin and saw his shoulders immediately go even stiffer, the black visor snapping up to meet your eyes. “Take your gloves off.”

He cocked his helmet at you, and you were starting to get the hang of reading an unreadable face. “Just trust me, we’ll both enjoy it more.” At that he tugged the glove off of one hand and tossed it somewhere behind him in the ship, exposing bronze skin of a, thankfully, human hand. He reached down between your legs at the hot core of your body, slowly moving his fingers down your slit. You sighed and arched into his touch, begging with your body for something more tangible. His other hand came up to grab your thigh and steady you, but the hand tracing your heat was shy and ghostlike, almost like he wasn’t touching you at all. “Please Mando...” you begged again, hoping he would get the damn hint.

He pushed one finger experimentally into your folds, dragging the wetness that had accumulated there over your opening and making you hum for him. He moved from the bottom up until his calloused hand found the sensitive little nub you had been waiting for him to find. The roughness of his skin caused you to convulse and cry out, making him tear his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“It’s alright! Please touch me there.” Who is this guy? What’s he never seen a pussy before? You thought to yourself, surprised that such a big scary man would be so jumpy. You arched your back and was rewarded with his hands back where they belonged. He pushed his thumb up against your aching clit, drawing lazy circles with it while another finger began pushing its way inside you. This time you let out a ragged and dirty moan to let him know he was doing a good job. He pulled his thumb away from your engorged nub to push a second finger up in you, making you whine. He found a spot in you quickly that was starting to make you shake again, but this time he knew not to foolishly let go. Your legs were quaking, head lolling to the side and making those sinful sighs that you could tell he liked. He was getting you close, your muscles squeezing around his rough fingers as he worked you to your climax. When his thumb found your clit again you came undone, your cunt fluttering around his fingers with your orgasm. He rode it out with you, pushing up against the coiled muscle to milk every ounce of pleasure from you that you could give on his hands alone. You could feel your own cum leaking down your thighs and around his hand, now realizing how pent up you actually were. What a mess you would be.

You were nearly gasping but you knew you were far from spent. He pulled his hand from your dripping cunt and you watched him stare at the slick on his hands, sticking and unsticking his fingers just to watch the glimmering trails. Cute, you mused to yourself, he really might not have seen a pussy before.

“Alright, space cowboy, your turn.” You nodded towards the bulge that had made his baggy canvas pants grow tight, and he followed your gaze with what you guessed was surprise. “Let’s see what you’ve got in there, hmm?” With one last glance at the prize on his fingers, he took a moment to reach them up underneath the edge of his helmet, greedily getting a taste of you, before straightening up and undoing his own buttons. You were not prepared for the monster that flopped out of his pants, his cock full and engorged all the way to its hot red tip. Thick veins wound their way up its length and you swore you could see them pulse even from your vantage point on the crate. A soft drop of precum was already forming at the tip and you licked your lips involuntarily, feeling a fresh rush of heat pooling between your legs. “I’m all yours.”

The hunter grasped his aching cock and used his thumb to glide the precum up and down it’s length before he angled himself between your legs. You arched your hips to give him the best angle but he wanted to take his time. He dragged the head of his cock up and down the length of your slick opening, gathering the cum he had earned for himself. When he bumped up against your clit you moaned a breathy and sinful sound that made him shiver. He slid back down again and you pushed your hip towards him, forcing his tip to notch and he almost doubled over from the sensation, giving you a ragged groan in response.

“Did that feel good?” you asked, biting your lip with a devious sneer. “It’ll feel even better inside.” His gaze was fixed on where the two of you were connected, his hands like steel on your thighs. Another tilt of your hips was enough to turn the cogwheels of the metal man and he pushed his length into you with a shuddering gasp. Your own breath caught in your throat at the size of him breaking you open. He pulled himself back out achingly slow before thrusting into you again and earning himself another round of pleasured cries. It took him only a couple more thrusts to find his rhythm, bottoming out against your cervix with every thrust. Your head was cloudy and a fearsome heat was building in your belly, threatening to burst every time he pounded into you. You could hear him now, the once silent bounty hunter was panting ragged puffs of air and if it had been any cooler in the ship you swore you would have seen steam coming out of the helmets vents.

He slowed his feverish pounding just long enough to release one of your captured thighs and bring a thumb down to your clit, pushing against it in a way that was rougher than what you would have liked but nevertheless sent your head spiraling and forcing a pitiful mewl to escape your throat. It wasn’t long before another round of lightning crackled through your body and sent another orgasm crashing through you. The force of it made him choke and stuttered his perfect rhythm hard enough that he fell forward onto you. Your hands were still locked together but you wrapped them around his broad armored back as best you could, pulling him close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath coming out of the bottom of the helmet. He groaned and pushed his head into the crook of your neck before finding his filthy cadence again. He was close enough now that you could catch the scent of him, a mix of sweat and metal and gunpowder and something so primal it made your eyes flutter.

“Let me feel that again.” His ragged voice in your ear sent you spinning, and you could only answer with choked cries. The hand he had used to work you into a frenzy before now snaked it’s way up to your throat, giving it the exact gentle squeeze he had earlier that started this whole twisted tango. This time you gave him precisely what he was asking for, your tongue peeking ever so slightly past wet lips in between soft choked gasps. His pace quickened by your edging and his grasp tightened on your neck, drawing an ugly -urk- noise that had you patting his back in protest. To your relief he respected your gesture and let go of your neck entirely. Interesting...what a sweet, thoughtful murder machine he is. He grabbed ahold of the abused crate that held you both up and ground his hips into you, fucking you so hard you swore it would break. It wasn’t long before your overstimulated cunt gave him exactly what he asked for, crying out into the silence of the hull and clamping down around his cock.

That was the last thing he needed to push him over the edge. A few more messy thrusts and a modulated roar accompanied his climax while he pumped you full of cum. He pushed himself as deep as he could go and you felt his cum start to pour out of you, mixing with your own as it trailed down from the intersection of your bodies and onto the cold metal of the ships floor. You were both panting, his weight on you making it almost hard to breathe. With great difficulty you pulled your bound arms over top of him and dropped them back behind your head so he could get up, but he just laid on top of you while his cock slowly softened and released itself from you, sending a fresh wave of cum flooding down your legs.

Carefully he pushed himself up, grunting and groaning the whole way. He stumbled to his feet, resting an arm on one of the crates next to you to steady himself and the other on your quaking knee. You glanced down at him and was bemused to see his glossy black visor staring down at your dripping cunt. His hands made their way back to you, gently pushing at your folds to watch the delicious mess he had made trickle from you. You couldn’t hear much over the blood pounding in your ears, but you could have sworn he said something with fondness in a language you didn’t know.

Releasing you from his grasp he walked up your side, dragging his ungloved hand over your disheveled body, devouring your naked form with his visor like a starving man watches a feast. It was now that you remembered why you had let him fuck you in the first place, but your body was limp and your legs shaky. He ran his hands up your chest and over your exposed breasts, then up your arms, grabbing the magnetic cuffs he had put there. Great. Back to the carbonite chamber for me.

But instead your ears were graced with the metallic click of the unlocking mechanism and the restrictive cuffs clattered to the floor. You sat up immediately, rubbing at the bruises on your wrists and staring at your captor with mix of bliss and confusion.

“You’re letting me go?”

Mando was working to put his clothes back in order, the sound of belts and snaps shuffling into place echoed in the ships hull. “Last I heard you had fallen into a sarlacc pit on Tatooine. Can’t collect a bounty on the dead. Pity too, I’d heard you were such a great hunter.” The man who had been your captor was now leaning against the hull wall, his visor still locked on your mostly naked form. “You can go back to doing repairs on moisture farm equipment, or...” he tilted his helmet towards the back of the ship “You’re welcome to use the fresher.”

You blinked at his uncharacteristic generosity, though you supposed you didn’t actually know anything about him. Shifting off of the crate sent another gooey wave of cum dribbling down your legs and flushed your cheeks red. Maybe the fresher wasn’t a bad idea. The metallic man turned on his heel towards what you could only guess was the cockpit.

“Alright, but no peeking.” Like I could stop him. The thought made you laugh, it was his ship after all. You tossed what was left of your clothing onto the floor and made for the tiny alcove that passed as a bathroom and the even tinier shower; but the water was hot and that was enough. It had been so long since you had felt running water on your skin that you didn’t even hear the engines firing up and the rickety ship begin to take off. There was a bar of military grade soap on the ledge that you decided to help yourself to, it smelled surprisingly nice for something so plain. It smells like he does. You shook your head at the intrusive thought. It was just soap.

When you had finished your wash you stood in the fresher trying to squeegie water from your hair, now noticing the rumbling of the ship under your feet. Well, goodbye Tatooine I guess. The ugly dust ball had done you no favors, but this wasn’t exactly the way you had guessed you were getting off of it. He had set out to capture me, and he succeeded. He’ll probably grow tired of me and throw me in the carbonite anyway, so one way or another I would have ended up on this ship. You opened the shower door and saw something on the counter that hadn’t been there when you got in.

Two gray-brown towels were folded neatly on the fresher sink, as well as your clothing and something that looked like a black knit sweater. You hadn’t even heard the door to the fresher open, let alone him coming in to drop the items off.

“Sneaky Mando!” You hollered out into the darkness of the ship, though you guessed he probably couldn’t hear you from where he was at. The idea of him creeping in the bathroom to bring you a towel made you chuckle. “I told you not to peek!”

“I didn’t.” A modulated voice right in your ear made you jump backwards into the safety of the fresher.

“Fucksake man! Scare a girl to death why don’tcha?” You wrapped your towel tighter in indignation, surprised that your nudity would make you embarrassed after what had just happened between the two of you.

He sighed a long, exhausted sigh. “After you went rouge you took out three top tier bounty hunters and not once did you try to beg the guild to stop hunting you. There’s a pretty hefty price on your head, but I think your skills could be put to better use.” The Mandalorian cocked his head at you, “Think you can do that again?”

The audacity... You huffed and put your hands on your hips in a stance of mock fury. “So you kidnap me and now you’re going to put me to work? Great. Thanks pal. Really know how to take a girl out on a date, huh?”

He shrugged. “Do you want to go back to the carbonite freezer? I’m sure Karga would love to part with all those credits for your capture.”

No... No you did not want to go back to the freezer. You glared down at the floor with raised eyebrows, pretending like you were mulling over the idea like it was a job offer and not literally your only option.

“Alright... fine fine you talked me into it. Let’s go hunting, captain.” You snapped a damp hand out for him to shake, but he just shook his shiny metal dome in what you might have guessed was a laugh. He pushed himself away from the wall and climbed back up the ladder to the cockpit without a single word.

You watched as his boots disappeared into the ceiling and shook your head, wondering now if when you woke up this morning you had any idea that the day would take you on some wild bantha hunt though space with a well-hung mystery man. You tightened your towel and tucked back into the still steamy fresher to put on the clothes he had left you. The farming tunic was in a sad state, but the knit sweater looked snug and inviting. Pulling it over your damp hair your nose was flooded with that same delectable scent that you had gotten to indulge in earlier. When he was pressed into you.

“Hoo boy...” You finished getting dressed, rubbing your hair with one of the towels Mr. Mystery had left for you. I hope he’s got travel scrabble somewhere in this rust bucket, or you’re going to have to find some more... physical... activities to pass the time. Your lips turned up in a mischievous grin at the idea.

What a strange trip this will be.

Next ->

[purlturtle]

Works of 2021

I want to list the works I have going or planned, and track their progress throughout 2021. So here we go. All of these are Warehouse 13/Bering and Wells.

And Now You: Finished and in the progress of being published, will go on until May of this year. Find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26284597/chapters/63990166

Strata / Commutata (working title): Two-part series of Bering and Wells going on a road trip to retrieve stashes of low-risk artifacts. Premise question is, what would have happened had B&W gotten more time with each other before Reset/Buried. Starts between Vendetta and Where and When, then goes off canon.

Pirate AU (loosely titled Storm and Tempest, which is a lyrics line from The Flying Dutchman): The front of privateer is a handy disguise for Warehouse agents Pete Lattimer and Mark “Mykes” Bering on the high seas. They run into famous (and famously female) pirate “Black Sam” Bellamy one day, whose ship has been hard hit by an artifact.

Werewolf/Vampire AU (no working title yet): Myka is a werewolf, deliberately turned after she failed to save her Secret Service partner. Disillusioned by what the Secret Service Werewolf Project demands of her, she is happy to take a posting in South Dakota, with older werewolf Arthur Nielsen to mentor her, and understanding humans Pete Lattimer and Claudia Donovan to partner up with. They have to confront the vampire H.G. Wells, who has her own designs for werewolf Myka.

Part 4 of Only For Tonight: Myka and H.G. return to the Warehouse; what will the others think when they learn H.G.’s secret?

Part 2 of Mind Over Matter: H.G.’s point of view, taking the story forward.

Part 3 of Iron Man: Dr. Walter Sykes experiments with the Extremis serum, gets fired from Wells Industries, and goes on by himself.

Weeping Angel story: A Weeping Angel takes Myka (and a moment later Pete) back to London, 1899. Myka knows this can’t be a coincidence, but how is she to handle this situation without creating a paradox?

Fae AU: On Halloween morning, Myka encounters a very peculiar person, who introduces herself as Helena of the Fae, and tells Myka that she has been cursed to walk between the worlds until she finds true love. She can only interact with people on this day where the veils between the worlds are thin.

The last two might turn out to be shorties (<10K); the others I can see racking up anything from 30K to 100K. Strata/Commutata will each clock in at around 70K words; those two are almost complete (as in, Strata is completely done and only needs editing; Commutata needs about 2 or 3 chapters more, plus editing). I’m not sure yet which one of the AUs I’ll start after that, or if I should finally get to continuing/finishing all the many-parters I’ve started last year.

If anyone would like to be my writing buddy/beta for any of these, please let me know!

Also let me know if you’re as excited for these as I am!

[chaos-family]

All credit to @janus-come-back-to-us for this story. Its og form is a bit hard to follow due to changing blogs so here it is in one piece! It’s from our dear lawyer’s perspective (in case you couldn’t tell) and the “you” is Orange. Enjoy!

Alright, it technically started on 11:47 of March 26th

That’s basically how the toys r us looked, at first, because it was a dark and stormy night.

I had just left from a courtroom, and was finally outside for the first time in months, when I suddenly heard screams… lots and lots of screams…

I turned around, and there was the ambassador of France, and yourself.

You had lit their pants on fire, calling them a liar.

The ambassador was, obviously, enraged. They had sent security after you, so many bulky men were running at a child.

You, being the spawn of chaos you are, was about to shoot porcupine spikes at a bunch of security men and the ambassador of France.

Me, being me, saw the ambassador sobbing, and thought this would be an amazing case to get me a ton of money.

Instead, she thought I was affiliated with you— probably because of the orange shirt I was wearing at the time— so she shrieked, “OH GOD NOT ANOTHER ONE!!”

You, also thinking I was in on it (for some reason?) grinned, and threw a larger porcupine towards me to use against everyone.

I caught the porcupine without injuring it or myself, but when I looked up, half of security was surrounding me.

I didn’t really know what to do. All I ever knew had to do with the law, and it was a prominent one to not attack security, nor the ambassador of France.

You didn’t seem to care. Infact, you poked your porcupine on some random spot (I never got a good enough look) and instantly hit several security guards square in the chest with spikes.

(They didn’t die, but I’m pretending they did for the dramatics of it all)

With all of those men on the ground, at your feet, the ambassador was shaking. The ones around me were frozen in fear, even as I gently placed my porcupine down.

You took one step towards us, and instantly, all of the guards fled. I would’ve been impressed if I wasn’t so confused.

The ambassador flicked her gaze between us both, her mouth opening and closing, like she was trying to say something.

You picked up the porcupine at my feet, and scratched a bit roughly on it. It’s skin and spikes came off like paint— because they literally were paint— revealing a zhu-zhu pet.

The ambassador slowly, shakily, raised a pointed finger at us. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her skull in terror. She screamed, “I’LL GET YOU BOTH FOR THIS!! YOU HEAR ME?? YOU’LL BE LOCKED AWAY FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!” Before running off with her security.

Naturally, I was terrified. I was getting accused for crimes by the ambassador of France, and didn’t know what to do.

You had just laughed good-heartidly, like this was something you did all the time. You show me a kind smile, before saying, “hey, wanna go to toys r us?”

I blinked, “what?”

“My family’s shopping over there.” You shrugged, as if you didn’t just knock out several security guards and burn the ambassador of France’s pants. And possibly her legs. “So? Wanna come along?”

I gave a puff of a laugh, y’know, the way you do when you’re feeling like you’re in a fever dream. “I— I guess??”

We arrived to find the entire family shopping. I didn’t recognize anyone— obviously, I didn’t know anyone at the time— but you dragged me over to the zhu-zhu pet section.

I looked around in awe. Some of these sets didn’t look like toys, they looked like weapons. There were armories, training sets (of various types!!), blacksmith sets, it was like a medieval knight paridise. But for zhu-zhu pets.

You had looked around, trying to find something, I suppose, but my head was reeling from your earlier stunt with the ambassador of France.

My gaze travelled to a ceiling corner, as I watched the security camera zero-in on us. The lens expanded, the flickering red light sped up, and over the store’s microphones, I heard,

“We have a code orange with an accomplice, I repeat, a code orange with an accomplice. This is not a drill.”

Followed shortly after by an exasperated, suffering sigh, and a loud “ORANGE WHAT DID I SAY??” From across the store.

Geoffrey the giraffe came out of the back door, with several weapons on hand. But we didn’t see those for awhile, for he had decided to arrive in a tank.

You, somehow, threw a zhu-zhu pet into the middle of the tank-shooter-thing-that-I’m-too-lazy-too-look-up-the-name-for, before bolting out of that section specifically. I followed you, not wanting to get exploded by Geoffrey.

We rounded a corner to find parent one, their arms crossed across their chest, giving the most parental look I could ever imagine. “Orange.” They said, lowly, “what—“

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault!!” You interrupted, as if we hadn’t ran across an entire store after burning the ambassador of France’s— “I was showing my new buddy around!! So obviously, I had to show ‘em the zhu-zhu pets too!!”

Parent one looked at me then, which must’ve been the least not-guilty I’ve ever looked. Covered in rain from the storm, still trying to catch my breath from running across the store, still frazzled from the ambassador of France moment, I wasn’t exactly the pinnicle of neat.

So, very dignified, and totally not weakly, I gave a small wave, muttering, “hi?”

Parent one looked at me, unimpressed, letting out another suffering sigh. “How much did she offer?”

I blinked, “huh?”

“How much?” Parent one releated, opening their wallet, “you’re not going to actually get whatever amount they promised, but I can give you $20 or something, for the trouble.”

“I didn’t offer anything!” You said, very smugly, “they joined in the fun!!”

“Actually, I—“ I began, but Geoffrey had caught up to us. Parent one merely waved at the giraffe in the tank, but you had looked ready to run.

Quickly, little lego men had left the tank, scattering lego’s all over the store’s floor. It would’ve been a painful nightmare to escape now, unless you had shoes on.

Unfortunately, neither of us did. We dropped them off at the entrance earlier, since they were soaked in mud and rainwater.

“You can’t escape now, Orange.” Geoffrey said, aiming their clogged shooter-thing right at us. My eyes widened at the sight, especially when the lego men began to build their own canon with their spare legos, “this is the last time I allow you to rob me of my zhu-zhu pets.”

 The canon was loading up, about to fire at any minute. My breathing quickened, panic coursing through me. Your glare at the giraffe only hardened, like you wanted him to try and stop you. Parent one remained exasperated, but calmly moved out of the way (a perk of having shoes).

The only reason why we weren’t blasted into smithereens, was due to a cryptid behind the tank, slowly rising in all of her cryptic glory. My jaw dropped at the sight, but you only grinned.

Geoffrey‘s tank was engulfed in shadows, and I never figured out what happened to it. All you said was “quickly, make shoes out of the legos!!” Which is what we did, before running out of that area of the store.

Unfortunately, Geoffrey was prepared. Around another corner, La La Loopsey dolls had begun to surround us, with needles and string in their hands. Very reminiscent of Coraline. You looked unfazed, even as they began to approach us with doll-like chants.

“What the hell do we do now??” I painted out, as you looked around for an exit.

“More like, what the hell did you do??” Came a voice. Turning around, we saw the same cryptid from earlier, spitting out a chunk of the tank, like it was a wad of bubblegum.

You grinned, “oh, not much. Just activated a code orange, y’know how it goes.”

“I most certainly do not.” She answered, glaring at you. It didn’t have the same tiredness from parent one, or the malice from Geoffrey. Rather, it looked... playful? “You left me out of the chaos. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such betrayal.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You said, rolling your eyes. “I got a bit preoccupied.”

“Can you two stop bickering so that we don’t get sewn to death??” I said shrilly, as the La La Loopseys started drawing their planned sewing lines onto our legs.

 Anyways, both you and the cryptid finally realized the La La Loopsey’s intentions. You kicked a few away, but double the ones you kicked just took over.

“Quick, what’s your species??” The cryptid asked me.

“Uh— human?? What is going—”

“Damn, so nothing supernatural.” She said, letting out a huff.

“Quick, give me another doll brand!” You said, so the cryptid left (she was the only one not trapped) to find another doll.

I didn’t really have time to question the purpose of that, since you and I were trying to kick away the onslaught of La La Loopsey’s. “Seriously, what is happening??” I asked, exhausted.

“A typical Tuesday.” You answered, “though I’ll admit, these guys normally aren’t so persistent.”

“So this has happened before??” I turned towards you, flabbergasted, “do you have any idea how many laws we’ve broken?? We’ve assaulted security, and the ambassador of France, you committed arson with that stunt too. We’ve trespassed and area you’re clearly not allowed in. We’re committing property damage, currently—“

“Oh don’t be such a worry wart.” You said, flinging a doll across the aisle, “I just use monopoly money to bail out of jail.”

Monopoly... money...

I didn’t know what happened next (later, after the incident, parent one had filled me in), because I froze from the mention of the horrid money I was so used to losing from in court. You didn’t realize what had happened, and the cryptid hadn’t arrive.

The La La Loopseys— and in turn, Geoffery— were winning.

All seemed lost, for awhile.

You had been kicking La La Loopseys away from yourself and me, and for about 10 minutes, you had begun to worry.

The cryptid came awhile later, throwing a limited edition Barbie doll towards you. “Geoffery was prepared,” she said, “but luckily, I found her in the backroom.”

You wasted little time, quickly ripping the box open, displaying Barbie in all of her glory. The La La Loopsey dolls hissed, quickly losing interest in you and me, as they practically ripped the Barbie from your hands to assault her instead.

She will be missed.

You and the cryptid had to drag me away from the scene, finding a brief hideout in the backroom. “What happened to them?” The cryptid asked, flicking my forehead.

“I dunno, I just said something about Monopoly money, and—“

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS COURTROOM JEFFERSON!!” I hollared, stunning you and the cryptid for a moment. Apparently, the Monopoly money mentioned had made me automatically think I was in a courtroom, and my brain had been trying to calculate the amount of crimes I had to go against (that, and apparently I thought I was arguing against Thomas Jefferson, for some reason). I panted, trying to catch my bearings as you and the cryptid just stared silently for a moment. “... we aren’t in court, huh?”

“Not unless you count toys r us to be a courtroom.” You replied, “seriously, are you good?”

“No, I’m Green.” I answered, “a lawyer, in theory. Not one that typically gets chased down by giraffes and dolls.”

“So not a legitimate lawyer?”

“Shut up.”

Briefly, I learned who you, and the cryptid— Cerse, apparently— were, and that took enough time for some of the boxes to start opening from the inside.

Crawling out of them, at first, was a line up of toy story characters, which wasn’t so bad. But then the slinkies got out, and quickly used their dog heads and butts to wrap around all three of us.

Try as we may, escaping was futile.

Geoffery came around the corner, slowly clapping his hands. “Wow, and here I thought you might actually get away. But, as chaotic as you think you are,” he drawled, leaning in close towards us, “I’m always a step ahead.”

“I thought you took care of him.” You hissed at Cerse, once Geoffery leaned away.

“I did.” Cerse insisted, but it didn’t matter now. Geoffery snapped his hands (somehow?? How did that work he’s a giraffe??), and several buzz lightyears had turned on their wings, ready for the command to onslaught us.

“I’m rather impressed, y’know.” He said, turning around like some cartoon villain. “I never thought you’d keep trying, after coming here the 34th time.”

You snickered. I never learned what had happened the 34th time.

“But now,” he continued, turning his head a bit to study all three of us, “I have you right where I want you. And your little friends too. If you won’t pay in legitimate money, then I’ll make you pay for damages with your life.”

The slinkies tightened their grip. I thought all hope was lost.

Until, of course, I heard a car coming towards us.

Everything that happened next was a whirl of colors. The chaos family had stolen a car— somehow fitting everyone inside— with both parents in the front seat. Parent two shot at the slinkies with a nerf gun, making them relinquish their hold. You and Cerse stood quickly, running for the car, and I did my best to follow.

Geoffery was faster, however. He grabbed my arm before I could reach y’all, and held a surprisingly firm grip for a giraffe. “NOBODY MOVE!!” He shouted, several buzz lightyears flying behind him, “OR I SEND THE SPACE TROOPS AFTER EVERYONE.”

You looked between me and Geoffrey, and in a split-second decision, threw a box of matches at us, followed by a lit match. Geoffery shrieked in fear, quickly letting me go so that he could escape. I ran as far away from the flames as I could, hopping ontop of the chaos family’s car, before Parent one took a sharp turn, making a dash for the entrance of the store.

“You’re grounded, by the way.” They said, no room for argument in their voice.

You huffed, grumbling, “I figured.”

Outside, we were barely out of the previous— now destroyed— front door, before French military surrounded us. Helicopters, tanks, ground troops, you name it— and infront of all of them, stood the ambassador, her arms crossed.

“Relinquish the Drama Duo.” She said, loudly but calmly, “and nobody gets hurt.”

Slowly, the entire car turned around to look at us, a shared look of “what did you do” on their faces.

I know that says US but pretend it says French.

“What.” Parent one began, “did you two. Do.”

“I swear I didn’t have anything to do with this.” I said, raising my hands up defensively. No one seemed convinced, but at least they were more skeptical of you than me.

“I wasn’t trying to start anything.” You said, crossing your arms, staring at the ground. “Honest. I was just at the convenience store earlier, buying matches— y’know how it is. And when I went to pay for them, the cashier said Monopoly money didn’t count. I called her a liar. She called me a phony. Long story short, I found her tonight when she was walking to her car with a bunch of men. And I lit her pants on fire. I didn’t think she was the ambassador of France.”

“It doesn’t matter who you think they are,” Parent one said, heaving yet another sigh, “you shouldn’t light anyone’s pants on fire.”

“She deserved it.” You grumbled, but didn’t try to argue further.

“And what do you have to do with this?” I blinked, not expecting the sudden attention.

“I swear, I was just getting home from work.” I said, unsure of how to handle Parent one’s calculating gaze, “I only decided to enter the scene because I thought I could make a ton of money as the ambassador to France’s lawyer. I didn’t think this would happen.”

Parent two hummed, “I guess that makes sense. You didn’t seem like the regular accomplice Orange has.” They mused.

“They’re all the same at this point.” Parent one muttered, before turning around to face the ambassador again, “but for now, you’re all gonna want to cover your ears.”

The whole car did as told, with Parent two putting on large earmuffs over Parent one’s head. Parent one inserted a CD into the radio, and turned it all the way up. I didn’t read the disc, but I didn’t have to.

Not when a loud voice rang out, followed by, “the fitness gram pacer test—“

The military men all began to vibrate, as if they were holding themselves back. Several of them left their vehicles, unable to operate them at the time.

The ambassador, slowly, fearfully, turned around she looked terrified, as her top general muttered. “Ma’am... we can’t... we can’t resist...”

“You must.” Shs seethed, but they could barely hear her, “or you’re all fired.”

That made them try to repress their calling more, but it didn’t last for long. As soon as the signal rang, and the music for the first round started, the military ran. They had to prove themselves to be more physically competent than their fellow soldiers. It was a calling in their blood, one that they could never truly resist.

The ambassador shrieked in rage, but it was muffled by Parent one raising the volume. “Sorry, what was that?” They asked, deadpan, as the ambassador’s gaze hardened on our car.

“I’ll— I’ll get you.” She sneered, before shouting, “I’LL GET ALL OF YOU!! EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU WILL BE LOCKED AWAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!!”

Talk about a sore loser.

Parent one wasted no more time, at that point. They sped the car up, driving away as soon as Parent two chucked the— somehow working— stereo out the window, keeping the entire military distracted.

“Where are we going??” I asked, barely able to hold on to the roof of the car.

“Home.” Parent one said, “or at least, our current home. Probably gonna have to move out soon ‘cause of Orange.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.” You insisted, even as parent one gave you with an unimpressed look.

“Sure.”

We arrived to the house after a very long drive, where I learned who the rest of the family was. Granted, I couldn’t really keep track of everyone at the time— since I was reeling from everything that had happened that night— but the calmer change of pace was a nice shift from being surrounded by the military.

We arrived at the house, where everyone unloaded their bags and went inside. I only went in because, lets be honest, all of that left me in desperate need of a shower, but I was stopped by the Parent duo— River and Cenn— before I could borrow their bathroom.

“So...” River— Parent two began, “you’re a lawyer?”

“In theory,” I answered, since I had shared a bit about myself during the car ride, “I do mostly criminal cases as the prosecutor. Why, is there any case you’d like me to check out?”

They shared a look with unspoken words, and I couldn’t really tell what they were saying. They turned back to me after a moment, with Cenn— Parent one— saying something, “well, have you tried... defending a criminal, perhaps?”

I blinked owlishly at that, “uh, not really, but I’m trained enough for it.”

Cenn nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, “good. We’ve been looking for someone to help us keep our kids out of jail, but so far—“

“Woah woah woah—“ I cut them off, wringing my wrists, “listen, i appreciate your hospitality and help tonight, but there is no way I can keep these guys,” I paused, motioning towards all the kids to emphasize my point, “guiltless!! Especially if tonight is just a ‘typical Tuesday.’”

River sighed, a bit defeated, but didn’t seem to give up, “look, we wouldn’t persist if we weren’t desperate. At this point, buying monopoly playsets has been more expensive than what court fees would be. Just— start with one kid? If all of them is too much?”

I hesitated. On one hand, trying to make them all seem innocent would be a waste of time, since any judge could look at their track record and immediately have a verdict. But, on the other, the amount of money I could make...

I sighed, my shoulders sagging, “alright, who am I defending first?”

They both huffed a breath of relief, with Cenn turning, calling out “Orange? Could you come here for a moment.”

And that, everyone who decided to stick around, is the toys r us incident (and coincidentally, the night I became Orange’s lawyer). I’m not getting into the aftermath— because I have irl stuff to do— but yeah

note from C: this is a little off according to the master timeline but who cares

[mochuelovelli]

Fix-It AU pt dos!

[sorry]

Moonvasion! Pt I:

Just a small detail but Della and Dewey come into warn Scrooge since the message from Penumbra/Donald came in that morning as the ending of the subplot from The Richest Duck in the World! Episode happened really...REALLY early in the morning. Scrooge even questions why they are up so early.

After Lunaris gives his first speech and once Louie says "I didn't know there would be an invasion the next day! Gimme a break!" Della starts to say something about how she was able to know about the invasion but Gyro interrupts her to start his scene [if need be it Gyro doesn't have to interrupt Della]

Della gets Scrooge's attention to finish her thought "Donald and Penumbra warned me about the invasion this morning after the satellites went down." Scrooge perks up at Donald's name. "Donald? What do you mean, lass?" "I don't know Uncle Scrooge, but we need to do something. Donald said Lunaris is after the kids." They do the same nod, maybe a little aways from the kids so that Dewey doesn't start yapping about Donald being on the moon just yet

The chase sequence starts but Louie's little dilemma part is cut and skips to where Huey falls

Della's next line (aside from her little sigh) starts at "If I told you the truth you wouldn't come" and sounds a bit more dejected. After Della later proclaims "I can't lose you again!" Lunaris' voice rings out (from the other ship's speaker I guess) "But you will, Della Duck!" Before the ship is harpooned and subsequently captured. Scene cuts from there.

Lunaris' final speech (for this part) also changes the line about Della to "Fear can drive away Della the only Earther left that knows about my people right into my clutches-" Scrooge's face falls and repeats the line "The only Earther left?" Cutting back to Lunaris' who went from scowling to smirking as he continues; the line is also changed slightly.

"Fear can even trick the Great Scrooge McDuck so that my people can land out great planetary engines!" Same joke happens but the camera shows other notable Moonlanders piloting the engines. 

Scrooge then turns around and yells "Where are you, you pebble loving coward?!" Lunaris scoffs, "Don't worry, I'm coming to you. We all are". Lunaris moves away to reveal Della and the kids tied up and Scrooge gasps transitions the scene.

Scene then changes to the perspective of Della and the kids after Lunaris turns off his transmission to Scrooge. He cackled to himself as he turned to face them. "Too easy." He grins. 

Della struggles in her cuffs, "You're gonna be sorry when I get out of these dumb binds you big-" Lunaris interrupts her. "Now Della, do I have to clamp your mouth shut just like I did to your brother?" The ducks all gasp.

If there is enough time, add extra chatter from the kids like: "You got Uncle Donald?" From Huey with Dewey responding "He called us this morning from the moon! I thought he would find us!" 

Della growls "What did you do to him?!" Lunaris then, while maintaining eye contact, turns on the tv to show an edited version of Donald's/Lunaris' fight. He speaks over it: "Your brother was a formidable fighter-" shows Donald punching Lunaris (maybe cut to the kids reaction) "but even he wasn't tough enough to survive trying to pilot that contraption." The screen shows the bullet exploding and Lunaris takes up the screen again to smirk at the ducks and the ep ends on "I guess that was quite farewell to Donald Duck."

Moonvasion! Pt II:

Starts off right after Lunaris speaks, only at a side angle before it cuts to Louie yelling "You're lying! This is just part of your plan to trick us into not fighting back!" His eyes betray him though as he, along with the other kids, start to cry. 

Lunaris grins wildly "My plan was to kill your pathetic uncle back on the moon after I was done questioning him, I don't like loose ends. But he did all the hard work for me and don't worry, I'm sure he was thinking of you as he was being burnt up in the atmosphere." The last half will cut back to the kids full on crying, once Lunaris is done the camera shoots up to Della who is yelling back.

"I don't believe you, I know my brother! I know he's alive!" Lunaris begins to walk close to her "You thought you knew Penumbra and she hated you. You thought you knew me and I betrayed you. You thought you knew how to fix your relationship with your family-" the word family causes Della's face to fall as Lunaris is inches away. "-but you came back and things weren't as easy as it seemed." Lunaris is right in front of her now, face to face. "So tell me, Della Duck, what do you know?"

After the intro, it cuts from the far shot of the Earth revolving around the moon to LP entering the diner. Scrooge has a more soluem line: "Kids, just give me a bit more time. I'll save you."

Cuts back to a funny but somewhat sad scene of Della and the kids being moved down to a jail cell area where some Moonlanders are playing moon marbles and one hits Della in the eye as well as Dewey.

"Mom, what are we going to do?" Huey asks. "Nothing! There isn't a Junior Woodchuck rule for escaping an alien prison! There isn't some super spy move to get out of solid gold handcuffs and I…" Louie's voice starts to quiver "I can't see a way out of this." Della looks at Louie, "We'll get out of this, kiddo. We gotta try." Another marble hits Huey this time before Webby responds "If worst comes to worst, Uncle Scrooge knows what he is doing." Scrooge's original line is the transition.

There might be an added line by Scrooge about Lunaris arriving any minute. He also probably withheld that he has the kids. Glomgold's scene is the same but the scene continues and doesn't cut back to Della and the kids until after the sharks.

Della and the kids are still trapped and look somewhat resigned, with Dewey occasionally struggling only to fall on his face before worming his way back up to the wall the rest are leaning on. 

Louie looks up at Della: "Mom?" "Yeah, buddy?" "I'm scared, which to be honest is basically what I usually am half the time. But I wanted you to know that when you came back...that was the happiest moment of my life."

Della looks to be if she is trying to keep it together before she lets out a bitter laugh "I guess a couple minutes ago was the worst moment, huh kid?" Louie just looks away which causes Della to turn forward. "You deserve a better mom, Louie." The scene turns to the other children briefly as she adds "You all do." Before it cuts back. 

"I...want you to know that if I could I would have traded places with Donald in a heartbeat." At that Louie turns back and he begins crying again, leaning into Della and the other kids join them with only small sniffles here and there. 

Della's head falls as she starts singing part of her lullaby, with the kids backing up the last line. A moment of silence before the lights turn red and Lunaris' voice calls the moonlanders in the brig to man the cannons. His face is shown scowling before it cuts to show Fethry and Gladstone riding Mitzy below the ship. Gladstone calls out "Ahoy there, you big green palookas!"

Transition back to Scrooge and the gang as it plays like the original scene only once Scrooge grabs the outfit it cuts back to Lunaris as he orders the Moonlanders to shoot Mitzy down as they are almost to Duckburg.

The trio dodges some poorly aimed lazers before Fethry begins singing his krill song which causes Mitzy to light up. The last line is about firing her own bioluminescent lazer, which she does and hits the golden spear dead on. Della and the kids are shown peering out a window, Huey simple observes this and questions when could Mitzy do that? To which Louie states "Yeah seems kinda huge plot convenience" Webby then says "Who cares! We're being saved!" 

Lunaris then becomes more agitated at his followers. "Just hit them! It's a giant bioluminescent krill! How are you missing it?!" Mitzy hits them again which causes them to crash on the Duckburg shore. 

Scene cuts back to the Engine, some moments before as the original Santa Scrooge scene plays out except with other Moonlanders instead of Lunaris and it convinces the Moonlanders to gather outside the ship to watch while the sharks/LP do their thing. Scrooge and Glomgold keep making excuses as LP tries to turn off the last engine only for Lunaris to crash. 

Lunaris gets out from the crash site and tries to find Della and the kids, however Gladstone and Fethry get to them first. The same joke that happens on the island happens here except Fethry doesn't talk about palm trees and Gladstone just clamps his mouth shut with his hands (not unlike Louie will do in S3 w/ Dewey).

They ask about Donald as they try to get the cuffs off to which the lot look dejected. Della starts to say something but Lunaris finds them. "He's gone. Just like everyone you've ever loved soon will be."  Before much can happen, Lunaris finds them and though they put up a good fight, Della and the kids are still pretty much immobilized and the cousins fail to stop Lunaris from taking them aboard the big engine ship (which I will call the Great Spear).

Fethry and Gladstone still help trying to get the ship from plugging into the Earth and it plays out about the same way as it does in canon since the Great Spear ends up leaving.

Upon convening once it exits the atmosphere, Scrooge talks to the cousins asking about Della and the kids. When they say they took off, he yells at them before asking hopefully about Donald's whereabouts. Gladstone just says "I'm...sorry Uncle Scrooge." as Fethry takes off his hat (tho the screen cuts off the top of his head or something is blocking it) and sniffles before being comforted by Gladstone. 

Scrooge doesn't say anything, he just looks heartbroken before staring back up at the Great Spear as it begins to turn back to the Earth. Scrooge scrowls before commanding LP to pilot a left over ship. Lunaris gives the same line before only it cuts to Della struggling in her binds, which ends up breaking off her metal leg, allowing her other leg to break free.

Upon hearing this Lunaris stops from almost firing at the Earth to growl out "You." At Della. To which she says "Yeah me." Lunaris and Della then start fighting, the Moonlander using his gun first which damages the interior of the ship as he misses. Della is then able to kick the gun out of his hand and it lands off screen.

Lunaris resources to his spear as Della is now on her back foot (this wasn't a pun originally I swear I forgot I wrote that she broke her leg) since his blows are strong. He ends up knocking her to the ground, he laughs madly before aiming the spear at her face but his strike ends up hitting her handcuffs as she was quick enough to block her face with them. The impact is strong enough to break them and she rolls out of the way of his next attack which gets stuck in the floor. 

Della is given enough time to try and grab the kids. She is able to reach them but Lunaris recovered too quickly and is on them again. But it is at this point where Scrooge comes in and is shown welding the gun. 

Lunaris let's them escape, but not losing the opportunity to challenge Scrooge. "It still seems like the Great Scrooge McDuck isn't as smart, sharp and tough as he makes himself out to be. You live in your own legend's shadow, Scrooge. If you were half as great as people say you are, you would be able to stop me from destroying your planet instead of running away." While they are talking they kind of follow each other by hugging the wall and walking toward/away from the other depending who they are.

"Don't worry, General, I plan to." "Ha! You know that if you leave I will just come after you. I hope you plan on losing more than one family member today Scrooge-" the McDuck/Duck family boards the getaway ship before it cuts back to Lunaris smirking as the door closes"-because you are about to lose them all." 

It cuts to the family trying to get ready to disarm the Great Spear. Della reassures her family (probably speaking to the kids more directly, or even one of them in particular) by saying after taking the initiative and hopping into the pilot seat (LP got up to help the kids out of their cuffs.) "We can do this, Ducks don't back down." This gives some hope to the family as they basically do the same sequence of shooting out the cannons except w/o Donald. 

Penumbra and Donald then are the ones that crash into the engine (Donald is in some heavy duty armour since I literally don't think he could survive w/o SOMETHING). Them crashing into the window is more heartfelt. Penny still says "Hiya, Roomie!" like a dork, Donald isn't having a good time though. The sequence is a tiny bit shorter since Della doesn't try to explain her family relationship at that moment.

The last Lunaris scene is cut down as well with it only being a shot of the team flying away from the debris, keeping it open ended.

When the Getaway Spear covers the camera, it cuts to Penny and Donald getting smothered in hugs. Waterworks happen again along with blubbering from everyone. When they finally let go, they noticed Donald's leg. Donald also sees that Della is missing hers and says "Ya know, I would let you borrow mine but I don't think it's the same size." Della then laughs before playfully punching him. "Shut up, Donald." It still hurts "Ow."

Basically the coming home scene is the same but, ya know, w/o the Penpad scene (sorry).

[Holy shit this took me 4 hrs to write as I was watching the eps to make sure I got a sense of the timing. Hope this was worth reading. I think afterwards (unsure if this would make it into a revised S3 or just like, what happens between eps I guess), Della's leg gets replaced with a golden one to match Donald's (more parallels).

I wrote the last ep with a lot less focus on Scrooge. I remember reading someone else's post that Moonvasion should have more so been Della's fight so I tried to rework it as such. Scrooge is obviously still important (as was Della but ya know), I also tweaked some character moments. 

I also wanted to hint at some potential S3 struggles the characters will face, most notably the internal ones. I made Lunaris a huge dick for a reason, I wanted to make sure he put up a mirror to Della and Scrooge (which oof sorry Della). I wanted these characters to continue questioning if what they are doing was the right thing, or if they are doing enough. ESPECIALLY Scrooge. Him not being the main focus is notable to him. You could probably even hint at him feeling less than useful in the Double 0 Duck ep as it can be seen as him doing what he usually does when he has a problem he can't solve: bury it deep down. This weak spot could also serve as something for FOWL to exploit. I also wanted Della to doubt herself as well. She (along with pretty much the rest of the cast) thought Donald was DEAD. If he actually was, She wouldn't want to adventure for a long...long while, if she ever would again. It would shatter her spirit completely because he didn't die because he was old or because he got into an accident. He died trying to get back to his family. To her, it would be all her fault. But since he isn't dead (but still injured like her) she isn't wary of adventure. She is, however, weary of herself. She continues to question her motherhood, her role as a sister, she even questions friendships old and new.]

[olderthannetfic]

Fuck branding and consistency: For my precious Miami Vice, we’re going full 80s!

Miami Vice is a cop show from the 80s that helped usher in an era of neo noir and radically altered how television is cut and scored. It is both an ensemble crime show and a buddy cop show. The central duo are Sonny Crockett (Don Johnson, center) and Ricardo Tubbs (Philip Michael Thomas, on the left). They start out pointing guns at each other and end up best friends... with a detour through amnesia and attempted murder along the way.

Their boss, Martin Castillo, is played by Edward James Olmos, who has had the exact same death glare for his entire career as you can see above. Rounding out the main ensemble were two comic relief guys, Switek and Zito, and two women, Trudy Joplin and Gina Calabrese.

Yes, they’re super hot, and I ship them too, along with the very obvious Crockett/Tubbs, but that is... not what the fandom shipped. More on that later.

MV had only a medium size fanfic fandom. As a source of annoying middle aged men who own that speedboat and still don’t wear socks, however, it is unparalleled. It was a mega-hit in its day but is largely ignored now.

As far as I can tell, the height of the slash fandom was just after the show ended, around the time Escapade was getting going. It was something that was in the air (hah) at the time but not popular enough to make it onto the program much. There were a scattering of vids and panels in that era, including:

1992 - Miami Vice (cops and music, right, well, maybe there's a little more here...)

Indeed there was, but you won’t find that out from most people! The cultural osmosis version of this show is deeply offensive to me, far worse than “womanizer Kirk” and its ilk.

I. How I got into the fandom

Miami Vice is a brilliant show, so far ahead of its time that it instantly dated itself and has been a subject of constant mockery by people who only know it vaguely from cultural osmosis during the 90s. Its revolutionary editing is what inspired me to go back to film school. Its cinematography is equally iconic. The soundtrack literally changed television forever. And no, children, synthesizer is not automatically a bad or cheesy instrument. Jesus.

I got into MV in 2010. I’d been reading about it in the first Film Noir Reader and had been intrigued by the black and white stills. I looked it up and found that it was a rare DVD release that secured all of the music rights, unlike the butchery of Wiseguy and too many other shows. I bought it on the spot.

It was a religious experience.

By 2010, even the little Yahoo Groups fandom it had eventually grown was long gone. The zine fandom certainly was. I started buying all of the used zines I could get my hands on. One thing stood out to me over and over: Rico, my favorite character, does have great fic, but it’s all gen and het. The slash zines treated him with absolute contempt. The only fan from the 90s slash fandom who had any clue how to write him was @flamingoslim​.

So I did what any fan would do: I got into her current fandom, Starsky & Hutch, and stalked her to her S&H con.

What?

II. Why didn’t fandom love Rico?

So why were the slash zines like that? Yes, okay, the answer is racism.

But the more zines I read and the more oldschool fans I’ve talked to, the more apparent it is that the way it played out is specific and interesting, not some generic “he’s not hot” thing. The big problem was that the slash zines came from a tiny handful of publishers, with the more popular ones coming from a single publisher. Looking at their editorials in the front of volumes, I see cartoons of the two of them dressed as their ship, Crockett/Castillo. I’m getting full on otherkin vibes from how they talk about that ship.

This was very clearly a case of hating the other man who got in the way of the OTP. Even so, the particular way Rico was written in many of the stories in those zines is incredibly racist. Flamingo writes him as a supportive best friend to Crockett. This was... not the norm.

This wouldn’t be such a big problem except that this was not an era when you just go on AO3 or even FFN and post whatever you want. Getting a zine together is hard. It takes money. It means finding a printer that is willing to print gay shit--something that can still be an issue in 2020. It means having a job and a lifestyle where being outed as a publisher of gay shit will not fuck you over. They were the only game in town, and their bad takes ruled the fandom.

Contrast to the gen/het zines: Rico wasn’t specifically more popular than other characters, but he wasn’t in the way of somebody’s OTP, so he shows up pretty often as a major character, written similarly to how he is in canon.

The gen/het zines are also just plain well written, making all of the characters more nuanced and interesting than in a lot of the slash fic. That’s what happens when you’re dealing with tiny fandoms and tiny numbers of writers: one or two great talents shape the whole feeling.

The other answer to why people weren’t super into Rico is simple: Castillo.

MV is a show full of buddy duos. And then there is the boss, a mysterious lone wolf whose identity only goes back a handful of years. He is aggressively moral and incorruptible, yet also executes a counter-revolutionary in cold blood rather than let the CIA take him back to South America to continue his reign of terror.

What, you think Castillo isn’t a murderer?

Hate to break it to you, but not only is he, but Rico is the one who found out and never reported him. It’s one of the most interesting moments between them.

I’m not surprised fandom wanted to ship Castillo with someone. I just wish people hadn’t only ever reached for Crockett/Castillo when Castillo/Tubbs has just as much great material. But if I get started on my ship manifesto for that, we’ll be here all day!

Suffice it to say that MV suffers from what lots of old fandoms do: people only rewatch certain parts, and it’s hard to remember which bits are fanon.

I’ve heard people say that Rico didn’t seem like he really cared about Sonny on the same level that the oldschool slash juggernauts did. I think this is a combo of not rewatching the episodes more heavily focused on him and of fandom liking a particular kind of woobie/enabler ship. Rico usually caved in the end, but he set boundaries in a way some of these ships never did. He was also portrayed with a particular kind of bragging confidence that is way more common in black characters. I think it reads wrong to some people, though in fact, he’s just as much of a ride-or-die bestie as the usual slash duos from back in the day.

The same thing happens with a lot of specific moments fic does heavily reference. Many significant Crockett/Castillo moments involve Crockett being the only one who can get through to Castillo, yet in those actual scenes, it’s Tubbs who does or it’s both Crockett and Tubbs.

Yes, friends who I will be seeing at Escapade, even that scene and also that one. You are just flat out wrong.

III. The Fanworks

First, my eternal rec. It’s het with an OFC. No, no, come back! MV was one of those fandoms where this was sometimes the best fic, and all the more so since the ship is with Castillo, he of the mysterious past and not enough personal connections.

Dark Side of the Moon by @dejlah​

I also really love Temper of Revenge by Mary Van Deusen. It’s one of three she did to the same song and it’s about the dark, dark ending for the comedy relief duo. If you’ve heard Francesca Coppa talk about vidding history, you’ll have heard of this vid. (No, we’re still not the same person.)

I’m also a big fan of MVD’s Crockett/Castillo vid, Ready for the Times. It manages to perfectly capture the dominant fanon take on the ship. I can’t even put into words exactly why, but it brought back all that fic powerfully.

This fan-made trailer does a good job of showing the kinds of twisty episodes he got:

My first vid I ever sent to Vividcon was a Gina/Trudy one that gives a good sense of the awesome costumes and also how often they had to go undercover as hookers. (AO3)

And finally, for those of you who don’t want to watch five whole seasons of 80s TV, I vidded that arc. (AO3)

Wow, this is only like 15 screens. Practically a haiku when it comes to me talking about Miami Vice!

[nikatyler]

Long time no replies. Yeah. Last week, I couldn’t do them on Sunday. I couldn’t do them on Monday either because I was in Prague all day and got back home at midnight. I thought I’d do them on Tuesday but then I didn’t feel like it, and then there was school stuff and other stuff and yeah here we are, it’s another Sunday. I don’t think anyone cares that much though :D

I’ve been working on Rose Legacy all weekend. It’s been so much fun. Right now, I’m halfway through the first part of it, the part that’s focused on quadruplets. I had a phase a few days ago, I was thinking about switching to ts3 again and I felt like I didn’t actually want to do it for some reason. Probably because I’ve been posting ts4 for months now and switching games after such a long time has always been kinda weird. It was always the other way around though - I posted more ts3 and less ts4. Eh, you don’t care :D Now I’m excited for posting that legacy again. I still think of them as of my “mascots” to be honest, they’ve been here since before I had a simblr. Anyway, January 2019. Roses are back. It’s gonna be great. I hope.

Another thing no one cares about, it snowed for the first time today and it hasn’t melted yet. I’m so happy. I'm like a child when it comes to this, really.

elisabettasims replied to your photo “create-a-sim replied to your photo “When you’re reading this, it’s...”

One of my fondest high school memories is of my prom night. I'm glad yours was awesome, too.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photo “create-a-sim replied to your photo “When you’re reading this, it’s...”

Oh, I remember my prom, it was maybe th esecond coolest memory of school! Now I sometimes look back at it and feel nostalgious (less than half a year passed, yo). Glad, you enjoyed yours, too<3

It’s been two weeks and I’m still thinking about it. It has really been the best thing about high school so far, and I doubt anything will top it. We finally got the video of the prom on Friday. I haven’t been able to watch it but I hope it’s good :D

simlovinggirl replied to your photoset “I didn’t know December now runs a gardening Instagram account.”

Only the coolest grandmas have gardening Instagram accounts :P

Truuuu

I helped my grandma start a Pinterest account but I wonder what it would be like if she joined Instagram as well :D

andruskysworld replied to your photoset

Cute cat ��

She really is cute! I didn’t even edit her that much, aside from the colours of course. I might have changed her fur too, but I’m not sure about that.

jackssims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Alright mum, I’ll have to go now. Look after Sunset, okay?”...”

//Ross//, buddy, pal, you gotta do something with her, even if it means watching some cartoons here and there

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Alright mum, I’ll have to go now. Look after Sunset, okay?”...”

Argh! He's so frustrating!

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Ross: “Alright mum, I’ll have to go now. Look after Sunset, okay?”...”

ROOOSSS!!!

December. it`s time to use handcuffs to chain Ross to his daughter

Yeah. But it’s gonna get better I promise. At this point I think it’s kinda showing...it’s baby steps but he’s gonna get there somehow I promise. Not saying he’ll be the ideal dad but you know. He won’t be the worst one. Have faith in him :D

simmering-pancakes replied to your photoset “Bella: “But…dead people can’t vote.” Ross: “They will be allowed to...”

�� This makes me so happy.

whysimstho replied to your photoset “Bella: “But…dead people can’t vote.” Ross: “They will be allowed to...”

*rides in on skateboard* "HEY YALL I THINK GHOSTS SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO VOTE!!!"

I find it funny that he was able to ask a ghost for a vote. Also imagine if this was possible irl. It’s kinda scary actually :D

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Good luck at school!”

to cute for me to handle

I knooooooow

damn these Breeze genes will be the death of me

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Things are going great. Really great.”

Except for... maybe... your daughter?

He cares about his success at work more than he cares about his daughter. *shrugs*

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “Pass the happy �� When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you...”

A big YES to the pointless edits!

What could be more entertaining when everything else is boringXD

Exactly! And also, I’m often like “okay I’m just gonna take a look at all these pictures I’ve taken today and then I’ll go to bed” and then oops, I’m editing one and doing all sorts of stuff and oops, it’s midnight and I know I’ll be dead the next day. Pointless edits are one of the reasons why I don’t get enough sleep, basically.

Btw guys, here’s my HUGE folder of screenshots waiting to be edited in case you’re ever bored :D

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Ross: “My sister got a letter today. She’s gonna go to uni.” Caleb:...”

I swear, Ross, if you don't stop forgetting your daughter ... also, I hope he rejects you.

melien replied to your photoset “Ross: “My sister got a letter today. She’s gonna go to uni.” Caleb:...”

Lmao seconded Caleb deserves better

Do you ever see an absolutely terrible person, but somehow everything turns out right for them and you’re just hoping for karma to hit them in the face but instead they keep getting things they don’t deserve? Ross is that kind of person.

Also, love how everyone turned from “yasss we ship Ross and Caleb” to “oh no poor Caleb we must protect him from the evil that is Ross” lmao

melien replied to your photoset

Persephone is now easily my favourite character in this legacy

She was mine too and then someone else entered. Find out tomorrow :D

melien replied to your photoset “Valentine: “Are you feeling a little unwell, brother? Is Sunset...”

After all he's ever done I can't help but hope he has the worst indigestion issues ever

He was sick many times so maybe karma did hit him in the face a little bit

melien replied to your photoset “Look Ross. You’ve made mistakes and we all know that. We all hate you...”

I guess Claret hates him too

Aww yes I’m here for that

Also Bianca. Back in 2016 Bianca liked setting things on fire. Good old times.

God, Bianca would hate him so much. That argument she had with Tyler in chapter 3? It would be three time worse if she had to fight with Ross. She’d probably actually fight him.

melien replied to your photoset “She’s beautiful.”

Can I adopt her

Too late I adopted her first

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “It’s happening. It’s really happening! I can’t believe it. Do I even...”

Yeah but he doesn't deserve it. I also know the rules of this generation so, LOL

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “It’s happening. It’s really happening! I can’t believe it. Do I even...”

FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!

Yeah. i was waiting for it, but... I somehow feel, like Caleb deserves better, much better. And I wouldn`t be surprised if Caleb would leave Ross this will serve him right

I still was waiting for this kiss, but it`s kinda... bittersweet?

jackssims replied to your photoset “It’s happening. It’s really happening! I can’t believe it. Do I even...”

I'm very happy with this but also very conflicted (more or less for the reasons the others described in their comments)

Can I just say I’m glad it came off like this. Bittersweet. I kind of wanted that, to be honest. Not in the “yasss I’ll make my followers cry I’m so evil hahaha” way though. Idk it’s hard to explain.

It’s different from other legacy couples, in my opinion, and I’m here for that. It’s kinda refreshing. I mean, usually people love the heir, love their spouse, want them to get together. This one? This one is something else.

I’m not saying I’m gonna make all my heirs assholes from now on, don’t get me wrong. But it was fun to try something new :D

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Breeze, Valentine - the better half of the breeze siblings - too pure...”

somehow i managed to miss so much! she1s beautiful!

Thank you! I had so much fun dressing her up for this.

jackssims replied to your photoset “Me when my otp becomes canon”

Big Mood

Yeah. But also this is really how my otps make me feel

Btw, at this point they definitely weren’t my otp just yet. Like I was kinda obsessed with them, but I wouldn’t call them my otp.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “December: “Wait, no! You can’t just beat me like this! Ugh.” Sunset:...”

Caleb is a cinnamon roll and should be protected at all costs.

Y E S

jackssims replied to your photoset “December: “Wait, no! You can’t just beat me like this! Ugh.” Sunset:...”

December isn’t wrong here tbh

If only she had admitted that earlier

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “When I opened the game again, the girls came home from school for some...”

Is it a holiday? When there are holidays in game, there was a bug where, if you had a loading screen for any reason (even CAS) sims would come home from work and school.

Nope, it was a regular day. Still a better bug than the current one :/ I thought I’d start playing gen 3 but I don’t want my sims to age up when I enter CAS. I know there’s a fix for it now, I’ll probably look into it tomorrow.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “this shouldn’t be funny to me but it is funny to me help”

NOOOOOO. Also dying sims are so dramatic.

Oh yes. I think I prefer the dying animation in ts3, where they just sort of turn into ghost. The ts4 animation might be more realistic, but the ts3 one is just...beautiful, in a way. Sad but beautiful.

alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “Nooo, December! Hold on just a little longer, don’t forget what you...”

:((((

jackssims replied to your photoset “Nooo, December! Hold on just a little longer, don’t forget what you...”

NOOOOO :((

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “W-what?! No…wait a second Grim, I’m sure she’s just unconscious…right...”

(((

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Nooo, December! Hold on just a little longer, don’t forget what you...”

:(

I really didn’t expect her to die that day. I had PLANS. And she ruined them.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “No. No. That can’t be real.”

This is only the second time I've felt bad for Ross. :(

It was bad, but at least it opened his eyes and made him realize that he has to be there for his daughter or else she’d have no one. More on that below.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “23rd March 2018 - 5th July 2018 It’s been months and I’m still sad...”

December was an awesome character.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “23rd March 2018 - 5th July 2018 It’s been months and I’m still sad...”

Farewell, December, you were great!

She was ;-;

Also isn’t it sad that her name is December but she didn’t live to see the month of December?

jackssims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Hey…hey, Sun. Look at me. Everything is going to be alright,...”

We’ll all be holding you to those promises, Ross (but in all honesty this is a touching moment)

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Hey…hey, Sun. Look at me. Everything is going to be alright,...”

Awwww. Ross, I hope this keeps improving!

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Ross: “Hey…hey, Sun. Look at me. Everything is going to be alright,...”

You better Do fix this, Ross!

This, for me, was also very bittersweet. Because it’s awesome that he finally realized he has to be there for her, and it’s great that he finally cares, yay character development...but December had to die for him to realize. That sucks.

I have to say something else here...at this point, you’d think I would make them interact more. I didn’t really. I don’t know why, but I didn’t. So really, who’s the bad person here? I’d just like to say that from here on, they were closer, they spent more time together, even if I somehow didn’t show it. Past me, you’re stupid, this was such a big part and you ruined it.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Too bad I can’t keep you forever, Kitty. But I’m sure you’ll have fun...”

Persephone: Someone please help!

Persephone:

justkeeponsimming replied to your photoset “Village Vibes I finished furnishing this house the day I had my prom...”

SUPER CUTE!!!!

Thank you thank you thank you ♥ I had so much fun building this house.

unbridledsims replied to your post “9, 15, 19 for Valentine or any character you would like to share for....”

Thank you for sharing hun. It was nice getting to know her. I like that you did all the questions, very nice.

Thank you for asking! I love her and it was fun to answer this.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Ross: “No pets allowed. Persephone was the only exception.” Sunset:...”

Because Ross is self-centered and doesn't understand how to take care of another living being :D Any pet he had would starve to death or something.

Yeah, maybe he doesn’t want a pet because he knows he’d be so bad at taking care of it :D Maybe he has a good reason for once. Well, not exactly good, but you know what I mean.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “In the morning, he decided to plant a plasma fruit tree in front of...”

The Sims - the only place where the combination "vampire" and "vegetarian" does make sense ��

Now that I think about it, I’ve never actually played with a vampire that has the Vegetarian trait. Oooh. I should. Or maybe I could replace one of Caleb’s traits and see what it does. Doesn’t he have the Foodie trait? Makes no sense to me but ok ea. I know he’s the good vampire and all that but still.

[loghainmactir]

just you and i: final repost edition

title: awakenings series: just you and i (5/?) relationships: male warden/loghain mac tir characters: padril mahariel, loghain mac tir, anders, oghren, mhairi, madeline charron, seneschal varel warnings: canon/graphic depictions of violence words: 6.9k summary: A brief summary/rewrite of the beginning Awakenings.The new Warden Commander is here. Darkspawn lurk in Amaranthine's shadows. Things prove too much for Padril to handle.

They collide with the darkspawn with a thunderous clash; metal-on-metal, metal-on-flesh, twangs of bows and shrieks of darkspawn. It pierces their ears, shakes them to the core. Adrenaline rushes through his body, and Padril feels like he’s back in Denerim months ago.

Padril takes one out with arrows, three shots in quick succession. Loghain leans in his saddle and lops the head off of one, crushes another under his steeds’ hooves. Dannan is as quick as lightning, leaping up to tear out the throat of the last genlock. The short, hideous monster gurgles, clawing at his throat. It collapses, dead in the dirt.

When everything seems to settle, Padril leaps down from his saddle. His boots make an uncomfortable squelch as he hits the blood-tinged mud. “Creators, how did this happen?” He looks down at the genlock his dog picked off—bald, skin mottled with greys and greens, teeth sharp and yellow. He remembers how these creatures are made and he shudders; Loghain casts him a curious glance as he drops down from the horse. “This is bad. They should’ve sensed them. Darkspawn don’t arrange surprise attacks.”

Loghain uses his foot to roll over the closest genlock– dead eyes stare back up, almost right through him. “And yet they didn’t.” He muses, scowling. He adjusts his grip on his sword and unhooks his shield from his horse. "Come. Let's not leave the darkspawn room to settle in."

Padril lets him lead. They enter the walled village before the Keep itself– where the workers lived, he hazards a guess. Bodies lie on the ground, face down and unmoving. A few are hanging from the walls, insides torn out. Loghain lifts his shield as they move, alert; Padril keeps an arrow knocked.

Vigil’s Keep is quiet. The only real noise comes from the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the buildings.

But the hum is so loud here, it continues to remind Padril of the siege of Denerim. He can’t tell how many there are, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to know.

They mutter to one another as they move, telling eachother if it's safe or not. They check houses and small alleys—there are few survivors, thankful but far too injured to help out. They’re ordered to collect at the gate, and Padril watches them hobble away with a lump in his throat.

Together they climb the stone stairs littered with the dead. Bodies remain draped over the steps, faces locked in terror. He catches a glimpse of what he assumes is Warden regalia—blue and silver smeared with red, and he can’t help but cringe.

A violent, loud crackling comes from behind a set of large wooden gates loom ahead. They shoot a glance at each other. A darkspawn scream pierces the air, and the twang of bows follow soon after. Someone yells in frustration, pain, anger.

Padril and Loghain leap for the gates, flinging themselves hard against the wood.

On the stairs at the mouth of the keep itself are three armoured figures, edging backwards. A taller knight in silver-and-maroon armour is halfway down the steps fighting off a Hurlock. The monster towers over them, snarling and screaming, wielding a greatsword that could cleave a grown man in half.

The other two, perched at the top of the stairs, look unsure about exactly where they're meant to fire. Their leader ducks and weaves from the greatsword as best they can, given the stairs.

Loghain and Padril are about to join the fray when the figure takes a step backwards. Their foot misses the step behind them, and then they’re slipping. Padril feels his breath catch in his throat, and he tenses, expecting to see them cave the back of their helmet in on the stone; expecting the Hurlock’s greatsword to come swinging after them.

The darkspawn roars, raises its sword above its head and, Creators, how did this happen–

He doesn’t expect Loghain to move so fast; he vaults up the stairs, two at a time, and then his hand is at the Hurlock’s shoulder. He thrusts his arm hard towards its back, and the tip of his sword sprouts out of its chest. The person underneath them rolls as the greatsword– and the body– clatters to the ground.

Loghain offers them a hand, and they take it; they make quick work of the remaining darkspawn.

The figure leading the group turns to them, then. They drop their sword and shield at their feet, peel off the griffin-winged helm and that joins the ground, too. She offers an exhausted smile. Her face is tired and glistens with sweat; her dark hair comes below her jaw, braided in places. Her fringe sticks to her damp skin.

“Thank the Maker you came when you did,” The two soldiers behind her hurry to join them, but remain silent and alert, bows strung and arrows nocked. “The darkspawn—they ambushed the Wardens. I didn’t know they were capable of such a thing.” She licks her lips, eyes darting around as if looking for more darkspawn. She sounds like she still needs to catch her breath. “No one was prepared. I—“

The woman blinks, beads of sweat rolling down her cheek. Padril watches the realization dawn on her face. “It’s you. The Hero of Ferelden. Warden Mahariel, I— I was meant to watch for you on the roads, but I got stuck here before I could leave. My name is Mhairi.”

Her eyes wander to Loghain, and she sucks in a sharp, almost angry breath. “And that means you’re–“

“Loghain Mac Tir, yes. Not that that means much these days, if it ever did; you’ve done a good job here, Warden.” Padril is thankful he’s taken over the talking, even if it makes him feel a little guilty. Someone recognized him. That was so alien; he was used to being stared at for being Dalish, not for… things he’d done.

Almost a split second after he finishes addressing Mhairi, he kicks into General mode. “You two!” He barks. “Join the others at the gates! Round up any other survivors we’ve missed; keep them safe!” With a nod from Mhairi, they dart off, disappearing from view.

Padril looks down to his dog, smiles as he ruffles his ears. “You go with them, buddy. You’ll keep them safe, right?” The mabari wiggles his stump-tail and barks. “Good dog.” Padril coos– Dannan bolts without complaint.

They stand there for a moment, breathing in the smoke and blood in the air. Mhairi lifts her chin to Padril. “I’ve yet to take the Joining, actually. I’m a recruit; after what happened at Ostagar, what you and your companions did– I knew I had to join. It’s an honour,” Padril watches her gaze shift to Loghain. “to meet you both. With you here, we stand a chance.”

“Thank us when we’ve actually saved everyone,” Padril said, cutting in. Loghain takes a moment to bend down, study the Hurlock on the ground. “I promise you, we’ll get as many people out of here as possible.” But the state of it all– the overwhelming hum of the darkspawn in his head– it’s a lot, and it paints a grim picture. His stomach sinks at the thought of it. "If you wait at the gates for us, we'll--"

Why can’t it ever be easy?

Mhairi frowns as he speaks, and she cuts in. “Forgive me for being so bold, Hero,” He wishes she’d stop calling him that. “But I have friends in there. People I need to make sure are safe. I need to come with you; I won’t flee to safety while they’re in danger.”

Padril and Loghain glance at eachother, and then it’s Loghain’s turn to speak again. He stands from his crouched position with a quiet, almost inaudible grunt. “Let’s not give them any more time to kill the innocent, then.”

---

Neither of them have ever been to Vigil’s Keep before.

Mhairi leads the charge, though it’s often less of a charge and more of a wade through waist-deep mud. And the mud is darkspawn. Lots and lots of darkspawn.

They are littered through the keep, both live and dead alike. Padril finds he has to start plucking his arrows from corpses much sooner than he’s comfortable with.

A feeling of wrongness hangs over his head like a black cloud where-ever he walks. Something is off about it all. Creators be damned, he’ll find out what it is, even if he’d never intended on coming here in the first place.

They hit a stretch of hall with several offshoot rooms; as soon as they crack open the door, darkspawn begin to swarm out. Mhairi and Loghain plough ahead, and Padril posts himself at the end of the hall they came through.

They hardly get a chance to breathe once it’s done. Someone screams behind the door at the end of the hall, full of rage and bloodlust.

An axe comes down and sinks into something meaty as they peek into the room. There’s a brief, brilliant flash of light, and heat flies across the room, burning several darkspawn to a crisp. They curl up as they die, and it reminds Padril of spiders.

All grows quiet until a loud, boisterous laugh rocks him. There, leaning over the lifted foundation railing, is Oghren. He grins at Padril, face and body sprayed with thick, dark ichor. Behind him, a blonde man in a brown-and-blue coat with feathered shoulders blows on his hands as if they're hot.

“Warden!” Oghren roars, and he’s already yanking his axe out from the corpse. “By th’ stone– it really is you! Good to see you! And here I thought it was gonna be all borin’ up here!”

He approaches him, and clamps his thick arms around Padril’s waist. It shocks him, but he manages to squirm down to hug him properly. The shock subsides, and warmth spreads through his chest.

“Oghren!” He gives him a tight squeeze. It’s been two, bordering on three weeks since he last saw the dwarf, but it feels like eternity. “I don’t have enough words to describe how glad I am to have you–“

Mhairi cuts him off before he can say much else. “You know these two?” She sounds almost incredulous when she says it.

“Just the dwarf, unfortunately.” Loghain takes the change of pace to lean against a nearby cabinet. He slips off his gauntlets to wipe his forehead with the back of a gloved hand.

The room they’re in looks almost like storage, except that it’s largely empty; a few crates have been stacked in a corner not too far from Loghain. To their right, past the railings Oghren came from, are a set of stairs that disappear up to… Maker knew what. Probably the ramparts. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting–“

The blonde human lifts his hands as if surrendering, and he gives a nervous chuckle. Padril lets go of Oghren to face him; he’s shorter than Loghain, and a golden ring dangles from his left ear. “Me? Oh-ho, uh– I’m no one. Really!"

Mhairi’s eyes narrow at him. “I met these two about an hour before the darkspawn attacked. Templars had brought the mage–“

“Hey! I have a name, you know. Uh... it’s Anders.”

“—had brought Anders to the Keep for the evening. I'd heard they were only meant to stop for a few hours. Where are they now?” Her tone is almost accusatory, and Padril watches her hand tighten on the hilt.

Anders stands up straighter, a scowl on his brow. “I didn’t kill them, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean– don’t get me wrong, I’m not shedding tears over it, but I didn’t! The darkspawn got them. One moment there we are, and they’re saying ‘this is your last chance, Anders’, and the next they’ve got swords in their bellies.” He shrugs, “Do I look like I could impale a couple of Templars on swords by myself?”

Padril cast a glance at Mhairi. She looks unsatisfied, but at least she’s stopped glaring daggers at the mage. Loghain looks uninterested in what they have to say; he's moving from his perch to look at the darkspawn bodies on the ground.

“Uh, no. You don’t.” Padril agrees, and he pats his leather glove-covered hand to Mhairi’s metal pauldron. “I think he’s alright, Mhairi. If you want, we could take him with us. Y’know, to keep an eye on him.”

“See? He thinks I’m alright!”

Oghren groaned. “We’re keepin’ the guy in the skirt? Eugh.”

Anders stuck his tongue out at the dwarf. “As if you’re any better, Mr. ‘I’m Every Stereotype About Dwarves, Ever’. At least I don’t smell like I slept in a brewery--”

To the side, Loghain grumbles and shakes his head.

Instead of indulging them, Padril slings his bow over his shoulder. He starts towards the stairs and the group follows; Loghain takes point after him, and Anders settles at the back of the group.

“Super awesome to see we’re all well-acquainted," Padril hits the top of the stairs and grabs the cool, metal doorknob. Rain is hammering against the door and roof, now. “But we’ve got work to do, so let’s stop arguing and—“

Loghain is immediately at his side, hand clamping down on his on the doorknob. He jams his foot in front of the door, boot stopping it from opening any wider— Padril feels Oghren bump straight into him, with a soft grunt.

“Bloody nug-humpers, what’re you doing, Loghain?!”

He lifts his finger and shushes him. Worry and frustration line his face— Mhairi and Anders have fallen silent behind them. “Do you hear that?” He asks.

Padril strains. He thinks he can hear it; someone’s talking beyond the door, but the rain is too loud. The elf shakes his head. What good are these pointed ears if I can’t hear better with them?!

“Someone was yelling.” Loghain whispers. “Something is out there.”

He lets his foot move away from the door and he slips outside. Padril and Anders glide up onto the ramparts; even with the cover of the rain, Oghren’s footsteps are heavy. Padril cringes with each rattle of his armour.

The elf quickens his step and overtakes Loghain halfway to the corner. He presses his hand to his breastplate to stop him and shakes his head. He points at himself, and then up to the end of the ramparts.

Stay here. I’ll scout ahead.

And he does. The rain muffles his footsteps, makes it easier to move. He places his steps perfectly, footing sure. Padril peers around the corner, squinting and blinking rain out of his eyes.

There’s a grizzled man in silver armour kneeling on the ground. A darkspawn has his fist tight in his grey hair, pulling his head back, a sword to his throat. Another blade-- he imagines it's the human's-- lies not too far behind them.

There’s a bigger Hurlock only a few feet away; it’s mouth is moving, but Padril can barely hear it. A curved sword with jagged, almost toothed blade hangs at its hip, and it carries a round, wooden shield on its back. Tattered, rusted chainmail hangs from its body, and an old purple cloth is wrapped around its neck like a scarf. Six shrouded, tall figures lurk beyond at the other end of the ramparts.

Padril doesn’t realize it until it’s too late. The darkspawn is backing someone up to the edge; a peel of thunder rolls across the skies, and he catches the soldier’s sobbing between it. The soldier’s feet scuff the edge of the walls, and they teeter precariously.

The darkspawn’s voice is clear, now, raspy and low. It sends shivers down his spine, and Padril reaches for the daggers hooked at his belt.

“It has ended just as He foretold!”

With a hard kick, the soldier falls; their scream echoes past the rain and thunder. Padril can see it in his head now: the body, crushed and crumpled against rock and ground.

Padril is about to yell over his shoulder for his companions when the voice rings out again. “We have visitors.” It growls, and it turns towards him. He freezes, but the man on his knees grows alarmed, struggles— Padril watches as the sword presses into his neck, daring to draw blood. “Show itself to us. We know it is The One The Father Wants.”

He swallows. He wants to yell, to rid the world of this abomination, but his legs feel cemented in place. It knows him. It knows him.

Loghain is behind him, then, clapping his hand to his shoulder. He almost leaps out of his skin— he glances to him, eyes wide. Whether Loghain’s shaken by the darkspawn, real and talking before them, he can't tell. His face remains as still as stone.

“You’ve made a mistake coming here, monster. Your kind will pay for what they’ve done to Ferelden.”

The darkspawn sneers and steps forward; he draws his weapons. “Foolish. Leave the elf,” It orders. Padril feels his chest tighten— it’s hard to breathe. “We take it alive. The rest may die.”

The darkspawn on his right rush at them, screaming and snarling. They’re lankier, this time– tall even when hunched over, all sharp teeth and claws and feral grins.

Oghren bowls past them, heads straight for the talking one– he roars, bloodthirsty and vicious, his axe trailing behind him. The darkspawn holding the other man captive lets go of him to fight, and the man scrambles back to grab his sword.

When Oghren sees the Shriek, though, he stops and twists– his axe swings in an arc, and he cleaves it in two, from mid-chest to skull. Mhairi joins him in the fray, and before Padril even knows it, Loghain is sprinting past them all.

Padril follows without hesitation, his legs no longer cemented in place. He ducks and weaves under swords and shields and then there he is, side-by-side with Loghain.

They waste no time. The darkspawn’s sword crashes into his shield, and Padril dives for his back. They struggle, break apart and dance around eachother; Padril catches it in the back of its legs. Loghain stabs forward to drive the tip of his sword through its shoulder. They work together to try and throw it off balance, and for a moment it works.

In turn, it slams its shield into Padril’s chest and face. He twists, narrowly avoids his nose ramming straight into his skull. It shows no signs of slowing down, despite the gashes in its armour and skin, despite their hard work.

Flashes of blue light up the ramparts as Padril slips behind and around them. He hears Anders’ voice yell out to him– “Warden! Watch out!” The elf ducks, crouching low, and his head spins as a blade swings over him.

He kicks out, catches the Shriek’s leg, and it topples onto wet stone, screaming.

He shoots Anders a thankful glance before he dives forward. He jams a dagger straight up beneath its jaw, and hot, dark ichor sprays onto his hands. The Shriek twitches as it dies– he’s gripping his blades so tight he can't feel his fingers.

Padril yanks his arms back and gasps, takes a moment to look around. Oghren, Mhairi and the soldier they’d rescued are working together on a small group of three. Anders is not too far away, lightning shooting from his fingertips. Another body joins the ones already littering the ground.

They all seem unharmed.

By his side, Loghain gives a shout; his head whips around, and only catches the sight of the enemy’s sword sliding out of the armour at his knee. They’re close to the edge of the wall, now, where the monster had kicked the soldier to their doom.

It tries its hardest to lift its shield as Loghain advances, but it’s bleeding heavily at the shoulder. Loghain must’ve opened the wound more.

It’s over in seconds once the darkspawn's shield drops. Loghain swings his shield at its sword-arm, and it clatters to the ground. His blade finds purchase near the top of its neck. The head falls onto the rampart, and Padril watches the body sway and tumble off the edge.

Loghain groans, collapses against the rampart wall. He wipes blood and rain from his face, brushes soggy hair from his forehead.

The other darkspawn are killed, and the ramparts fall silent. Even the hum is gone, now.

Padril lays there on top of the Shriek for longer than he intends to. It doesn’t help that Oghren and Anders join him to sit on the stone floor, panting for air, soaked with rain and ichor.

“I got water in my blasted boots,” The dwarf grumbles, pulling one off to shake pink-tinged water out of it. “Heh. That’s th’ one thing I miss about Orzammar, y’know. Lack of rain.”

He nods. “I get what you mean.” He pushes himself off the body and slips his daggers back into the sheathes at his belt.

Mhairi passes them to peer off the edge where the darkspawn had fallen. “I’d go mad with all of that stone. Isn’t it unbearably hot down there?” She squints into the distance– the rain and the dark clouds make it hard to see, but confusion flickers on her face.

“Like you’re trapped under one of your ancestors’ sweaty armpits, yeah.” Oghren chuckles, and Anders’ nose scrunches.

“Are you always this... colourful?”

The answer comes from Oghren and Loghain both; one amused, one tinged with distaste.

“Yes.”

The grey-haired man, standing not too far away, catches hiweye. He’d been so quiet, Padril had almost forgotten he was there. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. I’m Padril.”

“What matters is that you got here at all. I was beginning to think Vigil’s Keep was doomed; thank you.” Before he realizes who he is, the man is offering a grateful smile. The corners of his blue eyes wrinkle pleasantly. “I’m Varel. Seneschal Varel.”

Padril can hardly respond– at the ramparts, Mhairi grabs Loghain’s arm in shock. She pulls back, though, composes herself when she realizes everyone’s eyes were on her. “Someone’s at the gates!” She points off into the rain. “I can see a small group of torches!”

Loghain twists around, and Padril gets up to join them; Oghren, Varel and Anders follow suite. “I see it, too,” He says. For once, Padril can see it as well. There’s a blurred, flickering smear of orange and red at the gates, shifting and moving. “I can’t sense any more darkspawn. Not immediately. It might be reinforcements.”

“From who?” Padril shakes his head, “We didn’t send for anyone.”

He stands straighter, starts hobbling for the door they came from. “I’d imagine it’s probably the new Warden Commander.” He says, and the disgust is still in his voice; like he’s eaten something that’s put a bad taste in his mouth. “We should be down there immediately. I don’t want her taking over the place while we linger about.”

Anders almost pouts. Padril’s body aches with tiredness, and he’s cold and wet– but the mage in dripping robes was a sight, and he cracks a smile. “Bugger. We can’t even sit for one moment?” He jokes, and shrugs.

“No.” Loghain answers, and with little else to say, he begins the struggle down the steps.

---

A small group has gathered beneath the gates of Vigil’s Keep. The rain still hammers down upon them as Loghain leads. His teeth grit as they walk.

Ahead, new horses have joined theirs; four more, in fact. Padril spots their owners amongst the group of the Keep’s survivors. Two tend to the wounded, while two more chat together, facing the keep. One, Padril notices, is a woman in armoured Grey Warden robes. She leans slightly on a twisted, black staff.

She spots them first. “Hail!” She calls, lifting a hand. Varel lifts his in greeting; no one else speaks. They’re within a few feet of eachother when she catches Loghain’s gaze.

A broad grin stretches across her face. “Ah, we were told we should expect a welcoming party. I did not expect it to be this size. I am flattered!”

There was no mistaking it– this was Madeline Charron. Her dark hair is up in a tight, braided bun. There’s a heavy, old scar across her face; it starts from her innermost right eyebrow, arches down and across her nose, breaks up the left corner of her lips. She has to only be a few years younger than Loghain; her hair is greying at the the temples, and she has soft lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes.

“Don’t be.” The elf looks at Loghain– it’s incredible, he thinks, how blunt and expressionless he can remain. “The Queen of Ferelden wanted us here to greet you; it’s merely courtesy. We’ll be stationed here while you get your bearings, as well. I must say; your arrival was… conveniently timed.”

Padril tries to imagine himself speaking with such authority and confidence and-- no, he can't do it. He wonders if Loghain's attitude will cause trouble, and part of him is tempted to stop him from talking all together.

Madeline’s eyebrows rise. “It is a shame we could not be here sooner. Where is the seneschal? Did he survive the attack?”

Varel steps forward, only a foot or two ahead of Loghain. “I did, Commander. It’s an honour; my name is Varel. I’ll be taking care of the day-to-day matters of the keep for you, among other things, if you need.”

“Very good. I look forward to working with you.” She hums, her gaze trailing over them all. She goes from Varel, to Anders, Oghren, Mhairi, and then she lands on Padril and Loghain. “I have heard stories about you, Mac Tir. You seem to live up to your reputation.”

“I’m sure.”

As soon as she looks back at Padril, his heart leaps into his throat; she has a confident, intimidating air about her. Dull blue eyes seem to bore into his soul, and he finds himself looking away.

“And if this is Loghain, then you must be Mahariel. I must admit, I thought you would be different. Taller, perhaps.”

“Sorry to disappoint so soon,” He all but squeaks. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t know there was an Accepted Grey Warden Height. I wouldn’t have joined if I’d been told.”

Madeline laughs. “Well, considering, I would be certain that they would not protest too much otherwise, yes? You stopped the Blight– it is hardly as if they could kick you out, now.”

Or ever, Padril thinks. The Joining was… terribly permanent.

“Your companions,” She starts, again. “Wardens as well, I take it?”

“Lookin’ to be,” Oghren says, closer to the back of the group. “I’ve been travelling with Mahariel for too long, now. May as well just officially join, y’know? So, gimme th’ cup! I’ll gargle ‘n spit!”

Loghain shakes his head and sighs– he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re not meant to spit, Oghren.”

“Heh. That’s what I always say.”

At least six seperate groans rise from the crowd around them, including Loghain.

“I’m also a recruit,” Mhairi speaks up; she has her helmet tucked under her arm. “I was meant to take my Joining as soon as you arrived, but… I’m more than happy to wait to lend a hand with cleaning up the Keep.”

“No need. The Joining will not take too long. We will get rid of any lurking darkspawn and then hunt down any survivors. We’ll inspect the damage afterwards.” Madeline decides

She twists on her heel, gives a few orders to her companions and the survivors they’d rounded up before. Anders is about to slip away as everyone starts to part– but Varel grabs his arm, draws Madeline’s attention.

“I was wondering where you’d gotten to. Commander! This one is an apostate. He was brought here by–“

“Templars,” Anders cuts in, before Varel can finish. The old man frowns at him. “And before you say it, no, I didn’t kill them. The darkspawn got them. It was just awful; lots of screaming, lots of blood. Anyway, I’d like to get going, if it’s alright by you; I have places to go, people to see, I’m sure you know the rest.”

Madeline frowns, a hint of apology on her face. “Now, you know I can’t do that. We’ll need to turn you back to the Templars–“

Padril hasn’t wandered far by this point. In fact, he was walking side-by-side with Loghain and Oghren; Mhairi had abandoned them for her companions. As soon as he hears Anders’ voice, though, Padril stops in place.

With a quick apology to his friends, the elf turns back and makes a short sprint to them. “Wait! Hang on!” He huffs, “Anders was a great help before; I’d be a head shorter if it weren’t for him. I don’t think we should hand him back to the Circle.”

“Oh? And what do you suggest we do with him?”

He blinks, stunned that she’d even ask him– he honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. Let Anders go was his immediate thought, but what good would that do? Templars would find him again.

“Uh– if he’s alright with it, I was thinking we could conscript him into the Wardens.” The idea doesn’t give him the greatest feeling in the world, considering, but what else could he do?

Anders looks almost stunned. “Me? A Grey Warden?” He wrings his hands, “I mean… I don’t see why not. No Templars, a lifetime of killing darkspawn– how bad could it be?” His chuckle is nervous; as nervous as Padril was about it, it seemed.

Madeline has already started walking to get her horse, however, leaving them together in the rain. “If you are sure, Mahariel,” She says. Padril can’t hear any hint of distaste for the idea, so his shoulders drop and he lets out a relieved sigh. “We had best get prepared. Meet us in the throne room in two hours; we will begin then!”

It’s only them, then. Anders looks at him in awe, his mouth open in a small ‘o’– his jaw shuts, then, and he smiles. He grabs Padril’s hands, shakes them. It’s funny– Anders’ hands are rough and worn, the exact opposite of what he expected from a Circle mage.

“I promise I won’t let you down, Warden.” He says. “Thank you for this!”

He shakes his head quickly, struggling to speak. “It– it’s nothing, Anders. Don’t worry. I saw what the Circle was like– uh, granted, that was in the middle of an abomination infestation. But I can hardly leave anyone in there when there’s a chance to set them free, you know? I couldn’t just… let you go back to that… mess.”

“It’s not nothing,” Anders insists. “Thank you.”

From where he’d left them, Oghren and Loghain squirm, impatient. “Oi!” Oghren finally shouts across the yard. “Padril! We’re gonna leave your ass out in th’ rain if you’re not quick about it!”

Padril worms one of his hands out of Anders’ warm ones to wave a dismissively at him. “You’re welcome. Listen, you don’t need to promise me anything. You’re gonna make a great Warden, I know it.” He says, and his voice is so sure, so full of hope that Anders smiles back.

“Come on. I’ll help you prepare.” Padril says, and he lets his hands slip from the mages’, only to grab him by the wrist and pull him along.

It’s been a while since anyone was this kind to him.

---

The Joining goes by fast. It’s almost a blur; Padril watches Mhairi’s body drop and convulse, foam at the corners of her mouth. She dies, and they trap the darkspawn blood in two amulets for Oghren and Anders.

Padril retreats to his room afterwards and cries long and hard for her. He prays to Falon’Din for a safe trip to the Beyond-- if that’s even where the humans go. He’s not one for religion, but he’ll make an exception for Mhairi. He thanks the Evanuris for Oghren and Anders’ lives, and for Loghain’s, too.

Three months pass. Madeline settles nicely into the role of Warden Commander and Arl of Amaranthine. Loghain never warms up to her, and Padril hardly blames him. He helped to end the Orlesian occupation, and he doubts it’s difficult to see her as anything but a threat, a subtle reminder of what has or could happen.

Both Padril and Loghain take patrols around Amaranthine; they don’t go out with Madeline and the others, but they take a small group of Warden recruits they’ve gathered over the months and make sure the roads are safe. It gives them time to think, a chance to talk.

Padril finds himself easing up to him when they’re not in danger. it’s easy enough to forget what he’s done when there are swords and arrows being thrown your way, after all.

Still, nothing feels right in Vigil’s Keep. He feels stagnant here, like he’s doing nothing and people are dying because of it. It’s fine, Loghain tells him, The Blight is over and Thedas is fine. But he still feels guilty, and he can't quite put his finger on what it is, exactly.

Madeline, Oghren and Anders come back from their adventures with taller tales each time; of haunted towns, of the broodmothers beneath Knotwood Hills.

It weighs on him; he swears by the Creators they say they see more and more darkspawn each time they go out. He starts thinking more on the Withered, and dread fills his stomach each time. He isn’t sure who the Father is and he’s not sure he wants to stick around to find out.

He wakes up one night drenched in sweat, anxiety flooding his chest. He struggles to breathe, and it is so, so cold. His room is silent as he struggles to sit up.

His room is plain; wood floors and stone walls, with a singular glass window covered with iron lattice set into the east wall. His bed presses against the east wall, an old chest at its foot. At the north wall sits an unused writing desk, and a large, dark armoire dominates the south. On the west wall is the door, large and imposing, but shut. The shadows shift uncomfortably here, keeping his anxiety alive and warm.

That’s it. I can’t do this anymore.

He leaps from his bed with light footing. He pulls his armour on over his plainclothes, and he slips his daggers onto his belt, his bow and quiver on his back. Boots. Bags– he takes a moment to stuff whatever items and trinkets he’s acquired the last three moments into them. He retrieves gold he’s hidden in the armoire.

Padril glances about the room; he can’t think of anything else he’ll need, but he probably will once he’s hours away from the fucking keep and people are looking for him–

He shakes his head and hurries out of his room, making sure to keep as quiet as possible.

The halls are empty this hour of night; he knows guards will be patrolling, only fewer than usual. They’ll be on the ramparts. There’s no point in trying to hide from them, he thinks. By the time they spot me, I’ll be riding away from this whole fucking nightmare.

He passes Loghain’s door, only a few steps down the hall from his, and he barely gives it a glance. Padril continues down, quick and quiet–

And then he slows down. He stops, almost five metres from the door; his back is to it, his hands gripping the straps of his pack.

Creators be damned, he was going to bring that stupid shem, wasn’t he?

He was.

He slips into Loghain’s room, shuts the door behind him. “Loghain,” He whispers. He’s never been in this room before– it’s similar to his, but Loghain has rearranged it in a particular way that makes it feel different. His sword and shield rest next to his bed.

“Loghain!” Padril says, louder this time.

The man stirs slowly. Padril can see his eyes flutter open; Loghain blinks slowly at him, tired and confused. He jerks back, suddenly, into the head of his bed, and reaches for his sword.

“Wait!” Padril exclaims. “Wait, wait, it’s me! It’s me– it’s Padril, what are you doing?!”

Loghain doesn’t seem to realize. He pauses, lifts a hand to wipe sleep from his eyes. “Oh, Maker,” He hisses, drops his sword to the ground with an unfortunately loud clatter. “Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?!”

“The thing where– your eyes were– nevermind. Don’t worry.” Loghain rubs his face again. His voice is deep and raspy, tired. “What are you doing up at this time of night? And– why are you in my room?”

Padril lifts a finger to his lips to try and quieten him. “Shh, shh. We’ve got to go.” He insists, “We’re leaving right now.”

He watches confusion spread across his face, and Padril pulls away from the bed to start packing for him. “What? Why? What’s wrong? Padril, would you– would you slow down? What is the matter?”

The elf hesitates in the middle of stuffing rolled up maps into one of Loghain’s old bags. He turns back to him, sighs, and sits next to him on his bed. Like Padril’s, it’s much harder– too used to sleeping on the ground while travelling, soft beds were difficult to deal with.

“I don’t want to be here anymore. I keep thinking about the darkspawn– the talking one. About what it said to me. It scares me. And I… want to see if I can find my clan again. My family. Maybe try to find my dad?” He rubs the back of his neck after a moment. “You don’t have to come with. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He feels Loghain’s blue eyes studying him, and for a long moment, it’s quiet. He thinks he’ll have to go on his own after all– it’ll be the first time for him, just him and Dannan. The idea is… strange. But then Loghain pulls back his sheets and sits with him.

“And you’re leaving tonight?” Loghain starts. “I’ll go where-ever you go. I’m sure you want to keep an eye on me, anyway; I do owe you my life, either way.”

“As soon as I can, yes.” Padril snorts, then. “Well, it’s hardly that. I’m just–“

“– Used to travelling with someone. I understand.” He nods, rests his hand on his shoulder. The smile he offers is sleepy and lopsided, almost; he’s thankful it’s dark. His cheeks are warm, and he’s certain it would’ve shown. Padril looks away quickly. “Give me a moment. I’ll gather my things and write a letter to the Warden Commander and Anora.”

The elf slips back out into the hallway to leave him to his business. It takes Loghain no more than ten minutes to follow, and together they make their way to the kennels to fetch Dannan, and then to the stables.

Loghain murmurs to Padril as he asks him about his armour– it’s in his pack, he says, and he won’t wear it until they’re out on the road. So they don’t wake up half the keep,and the faintest smirk dances on his face as he says it. Instead, he wears a plain, cream cloth shirt, a leather vest, bracers and boots. For once, Padril wears more armoured than him.

They find the horses they rode to Amaranthine on; Loghain’s dark bay mare, Padril’s red roan. They manage to light a lamp left in the stables, and they’re no longer stumbling about as they try to bridle and saddle them.

Together, they lead the horses out into the courtyard. Both of them wear dark-blue cloaks, clasped at the chest with silver griffons; Padril lifts his hood as they swing up onto their mounts. He looks up to the ramparts of the Keep itself– a pair of orange lamps cut through the night mist, still and watching.

“Are you ready?” Loghain asks, glancing back at Padril.

“I am.”

They urge their horses into a trot. Padril looks back once they pass under the gates; one lamp has started to move away from the other.

“Where was your father, again?” Loghain asks. Padril tears his gaze away from the Keep to look at Loghain.

“I didn’t say, sorry. I remember my aunt saying he was from Nevarra. I think– I mean, we could try Cumberland. Last I heard of my clan, were on their way to the Free Marches.”

Loghain hums and then clicks his tongue. “We’ll need to stop off in Amaranthine, in which case. It’s quite a journey from here to Nevarra.” It doesn’t seem to phase him. Below them, Dannan keeps pace, disappearing off-road to sniff... well,whatever it was he was sniffing.

“Thank you for coming with me.” Padril says, quietly.

He almost doesn’t catch it, but Loghain twists in his saddle to face him and offers a small smile. “Of course. Even if you’d gone without me, I think I would’ve chased after you before long. The Orlesian would have driven me up the wall.” He chuckles.

They fall silent as Vigil’s Keep drops further and further behind them. Only once more does Padril look back, and he frowns as he does so; joining the lone lantern, now, are several more. A blob of orange has amassed on the ramparts, curious.

He presses his legs into his steed, and it breaks out into a gallop; he cannot be rid of this place soon enough.

He wants to go home.

[papesandcigars]

Could you please write a canon era Albert?

I’ve Got Ya {{albert dasilva x reader}}

a/n: I actually don’t know a lot about Albert so this was a bit of a challenge for me! I apologize if I didn’t portray him accurately but I’d also love it if someone would send me fanon about him

word count: 1320

warnings: mentions of alcohol

canon era

unedited/ lightly edited/ fully edited

You brushed wisps of hair away from your face with your elbow, your hands busy kneading out the dough for the last batch of bread you’d make that day. It had been a long week, and you were ready to get out of the deli and have some real fun. “You ready for tonight, (Y/N)?” Thomas, asked, lightly patting your shoulder and leaning against the counter you worked on. Thomas was one of your close friends you’d gotten to know while working your first shift at Jacobi’s. You two, along with your other coworkers, Lydia and Clara, loved going out after the evening shift you all shared on Friday nights. “Thomas, I’m working,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. He was a flirt, and the last thing you needed was for him to distract you. Jacobi was generous when it came to letting you and the other three kids work in his family owned business, and you didn’t want him to second guess his decision because of an unproductive staff. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone,” Thomas laughed, pushing himself off of the counter. “But I’m telling you now- I made friends with a customer who just so happens to own the saloon a couple of blocks down. I think he’ll probably let us in free tonight if you’re sweet enough.” You rolled your eyes, excited at the prospect, but determined to stay on task. Thinking about the drinking games could wait. You finished kneading and set the dough to the side to rest. Right on time, the front door chime rang, so you rinsed your hands, grabbed a pencil and notepad, and walked out to the lobby. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. Those newsboys were back again, and they always came in a huge pack. You tried to hide your slight distaste for them as you strolled over to the tables they began to take up. It was nothing personal or deep, really, they just always took up so much space that could be used for paying customers. They were rowdy and wild, and there was always that one boy who tried to flirt his way into getting free food. And then there was the other one who just flirted to flirt. They were a funny bunch when you were in the mood to laugh, but for now, you just wanted to get out of the deli and have fun with your own friends. “Hey boys,” you smiled, trying to prepare yourself for the craziness to come. “What can I get for you today?” Every boy at the table asked for a glass of water, except for the green eyed redhead you’d always been a little fond of. “A glass’a seltzer, miss,” he beamed, his buddies hitting his shoulders and hyping around him. “Seltzer?” you teased, alluding to the many times the boy had asked for it but could really only afford water. “You sure you can afford it today, friend?” “Sure can, miss!” he proudly exclaimed, pulling out a silver coin. “Got a whole extra nickel I been waiting to spend.” “Wow,” you sarcastically replied, to which the boy chuckled. “Guess I should start calling you Rockefeller, huh?” “You can call me Albert,” he extended his hand to take yours, which you unintentionally allowed, and he placed a kiss on the top of your hand. You rolled your eyes and hoped no one could see the sudden blush that flared upon your cheeks as the other boys laughed and cheered at their friend. “Nice to officially meet ya…” “(Y/N)”, you replied, an unexpected giggle in your voice. “(Y/N),” he smiled softly, then flipped the coin in your direction. “Keep the change,” he smiled, as you caught the coin. The change, of course, wasn’t much. But you held your tongue to allow him the shining moment you were sure he’d never had. You giggled your way all the way back to the kitchen, and after bringing the water and single glass of seltzer out to the boys, Jacobi was kind enough to let you and your friends leave early. You hung your apron and pulled the hair tie out of your hair. Lydia and Clara took the lead, Thomas sticking by your side to flirt as you all walked out of the deli. You laughed at something stupid he’d said, and couldn’t help but notice Albert’s smile falter as he locked eyes with yours. Despite his earlier success with you, Albert’s mood turned gloomy as he watched you walk down the street with your friends from the window. He should’ve known- it didn’t matter that he’d always had a crush on you, you two were from totally separate worlds and hung around totally different people. Your family was pretty well off and you’d only gotten the job at Jacobi’s to earn some extra money and learn a little responsibility- whereas he was selling papers so that he’d be able to eat at least a meal a day, and most times what he earned still wasn’t enough. Embarrassment suddenly rushed throughout him at the excitement he felt, giving you a nickel to keep. What good would it do you? He was ashamed of himself. Meanwhile, you were having a great night out, until things started to get a little too crazy. Several other kids your age had stumbled their way into the bar and nobody was giving anyone grief about it. You lost count of how many shots of liquor you’d had after… you didn’t even remember. You decided to get out while you still could, when you weren’t too far gone, but you couldn’t find Clara or Lydia or even Thomas. You’d find out later that they deserted you on purpose. You stumbled out of the saloon alone, trying hard not to stumble, but tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. He didn’t mean to meet up with you again. He’d told the boys he was just going on a walk, and whether it was by fate or circumstance, he’d ended up crossing paths with you just in time. “(Y/N)?” Albert muttered to himself as you fell forward. He quickly rushed to you, arms extended out, and caught you just before you would’ve hit the pavement. He pulled you up and assessed you for damage. “Albert!” Your head was spinning, but you were sure it was him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… Thank you for… I don’t know where…” He was trying to follow along with your broken sentences, but he was just as confused as you were. “Are ya alright?” he asked, trying to make contact with your wandering eyes. You didn’t answer, still searching desperately for your friends, the people who were supposed to have your back. He followed your switching gaze, and finally understood. “I don’t….” he tried to be as gentle as he could, “I don’t think they’re here, (Y/N). Are you okay?” You finally met his green eyes, which held so much concern for you. Suddenly your heart stopped as you saw the sight before you- his signature red hair was shining under the dim street lights, his lips were almost too close for you not to kiss. Against your drunken judgment, you kept your distance and nodded. “Hey, I’ve got ya. Let me walk you home, yeah?” He steadied you with one arm around your waist, his other hand resting on your shoulder. “Where d’ya live?”“I can’t go home,” you slurred slightly. You really weren’t that far gone, but if your parents caught just a whiff of your breath, you’d be in a world of trouble. You were supposed to stay the night at Clara’s, but you knew that wouldn’t be happening. “Alright,” Albert nodded. “You can stay with us, if ya want. They’s an open bed right next to mine.”And for once, you were relieved to be welcomed in by the ragamuffins of Manhattan.

[spnmetafromheaven]

Breakdown of the Cupid Scene from 08x23 “Sacrifice”

After rewatching “Sacrifice” for probably the fifth time, I can honestly say my favorite scene from the episode has to be in the bar where Dean and Cas are waiting for Cupid to arrive. I remember the first time I watched it, it didn’t hit me too deeply; a few laughs here and there and the pleasant surprise of queer representation where the audience is the least likely to expect it. The complexity of the scene, however, is subtly genius and I need to rant about it.

(Prepare for an excessive amount of overanalyzing and the use of image-stills below the cut)

So, right away, we see Dean waiting at a bar by himself.

(Shocking, I know). Following his line of sight, we can infer that Dean is watching something, likely a tv screen above the bar. Right afterward, we are shown this clip:

A man with a bow and arrow. So, already we can make the connection that this is the television show Dean is watching as he waits at the bar. (I’m pointing this out to explain that this is how “subtext” works. While it’s never explicitly confirmed this is the tv show Dean’s watching, editing and visual cues invite viewers to make this valid conclusion. The scene is filled with even more subtext for us to unravel on an even deeper level.)

By its inclusion, we know that there is something important about this imagery. Placed in a scene about trying to find Cupid, it isn’t too hard to make the connection that the archer is mean to symbolize Cupid’s bow - the very thing the characters are after in this episode.

This clip of the tv screen is taken from Dean’s perspective. We just saw him watching something over the bar, and now the creators are giving us some information on what exactly Dean’s focused on. Then, we get this image:

The man is aiming his bow and arrow straight at the audience - or is he? As we know, this angle is taken from Dean’s perspective where he is still sitting by himself at the bar. So what do we see after this?

Cas walking up from behind Dean.

What’s interesting to note is that the bar actually has two entrances. There’s the door behind Dean that Cas walks through, and there’s another door at the end of the bar off to Dean’s left. (We see Cupid use this door for her entrance later). But the writers specifically wanted Cas walking up behind Dean. It’s even directed in the original script (courtesy of SupernaturalWiki):

[DEAN is seen sitting at the bar watching a hunter on the bars TV aim his bow at the TV screen. CASTIEL walks in the door that’s behind DEAN and sits on the stool next to him.]

But why is it important to have Castiel walk up behind Dean? Well, prior to Cas’s entrance, the last thing we saw was the image of the archer aiming at the tv screen. From Dean’s perspective, it would look like the archer is aiming at him and/or behind him. Cas’s entrance sets him right in line with the archer’s bow.

The context of this scene is crucial: Dean and Cas are focused on finding Cupid’s bow; a tool used to signify two people falling in love. The general audience knows how Cupid bow’s works in most mythology, with pre-destined lovers being shot with a magical arrow. The writers of the scene are likely depending on this pre-existing knowledge for viewers to pick up on these metaphorical clues, i.e. aiming a bow and arrow = someone destined to fall in love.

So, right away we have this image of Dean and Cas being aimed at with a bow and arrow in the context of looking for Cupid’s bow. It’s a visual cue that is meant to carry romantic connotations. If this seems like too much of an interpretative stretch for some, I can also point out that the writers use this same visual metaphor later on in the scene for a canonically romantic couple.

So after Cas sits next to Dean, the two greet each other. At one point, Dean refers to the bartender further down the bar:

DEAN

Free drinks. Your, uh, buddy over there thinks you saved his life.

Which is followed by this nice compositional parallel:

Dean and Cas at one end of the bar, and the bartender and a customer at the other. The fact that they are the only ones at the bar at this time only further emphasizes the mirroring images.

And so, Dean and Cas start talking about their plans for the future.

DEAN

Talk to me. Are you sure about this? I mean, it's one thing me and Sammy slamming the gates to the pit, but you -- you're -- you're boarding up Heaven, and you're locking the door behind you.

CASTIEL

Yeah. I know.

DEAN

You did a lot of damage up there, man. You think they're just gonna let that slide?

CASTIEL

Do you mean do I think they'll kill me? Yeah, they might.

DEAN

So this is it? E.T. goes home.

During their exchange, Dean discovers that Cas is likely to die at the hands of the Angels once the trials are done and they are able to seal up Heaven. It’s a realization that he is likely to never see Cas again.

Admittedly, it’s a heavy topic.

As Dean and Cas talk, there is actually a song being played in the background at a fairly faint level. The song is titled, “I’m So Blue” by Katie Thompson. (Here’s a link for anyone’s interested. It’s a beautiful song, I totally recommend listening to it). The lyrics can be heard at the time of Cas’s entrance and throughout his and Dean’s dialogue. The song goes:

You love me so but let me go

Now I'll never know

How our love would go

Waiting, watching the stars up above

Hoping that I could win back your love

I'm so blue without you

Thought our love was true

Then you found someone new

So yeah. It’s a love song- a tragic one about losing a lover and never knowing what could have been. These lyrics eerily mirror the topic of Dean and Cas’s discussion - about Castiel going back “up” to Heaven, likely for good. So once again, we see romantic connotations underlying Cas and Dean’s interactions set there by the creators.

For a scene where a man is supposed to find his soulmate, however, a love song isn’t entirely out of place. For all we know, this song wasn’t meant to be connected to Cas and Dean in any way. Yet, the lyrics are rather depressing for someone who is meant to be meeting their soulmate, let alone the fact that the bartender and his soulmate already have their own song to signify their transition to lovers.

The moment the two fall in love, “Nice to Be with You” by Gallery starts to play. Along with being played at a volume the audience can actually register, the lyrics of the song are way more fitting to the moment of finding your true love:

Oh, it's so nice to be with you

I love all the things ya say and do

And it's so nice to hear you say

You're gonna please me in every way

Honey, I got the notion you're causin' commotion in my soul

Baby, you and me have got somethin' that's real

I know it's gonna last a lifetime

Looking back to the scene, Dean and Cas finish their conversation and we finally see the entrance of Cupid.

Like most of the general audience at this point, Dean and Cas see the woman enter the bar and automatically assume she is the bartender’s soulmate. Dean especially comments on the “obvious” tension between the two will be lovers.

DEAN

Holy crud, this is like the first five minutes of every porno I've ever seen.

As the woman makes her entrance, the bartender signs some papers and introduces the man sitting at the bar.

[DWIGHT takes the pen and signs.]

DWIGHT [introducing GAIL to the MAN at the bar.]

Gail, Rod.

ROD

Ma'am.

DWIGHT

Rod rides a stool here most days.

So here we learn that the customer, Rod, is actually a regular at the bar. Regular enough for the bartender, Dwight, to remember his name and where he often chooses to sit. It’s safe to assume that Dwight and Rod have known each other long before this specific night, and are probably friends. This lets the audience entertain the idea that true love has the potential of happening even in the midst of a seemingly platonic friendship. This could be a not-so-subtle jab at viewers that maybe this potential can found in other relationships on screen as well…

Interestingly, Rod is also wearing a bright red hat. For the dark interior of the bar and his other neutral clothing choices, Rod’s red hat stands out like a lighthouse. From a set design perspective, it’s clear that the viewer's eye is meant to be drawn to Rod’s hat. When Cupid first enters the bar, Rod even makes sure to tip his hat towards her, drawing the viewer’s attention even further to what’s printed on there.

A pair of wings.

A pair of wings that, as an audience, we can connect to the Angel sitting just a few feet down the bar.

Cupid, of course, does her work and touches the shoulders of Dwight and Rod to make them fall in love. Her quick exit afterward leaves Dean and Cas obviously confused, yet this is soon cleared up.

Right after Cupid’s departure, Dwight and Rod look to the television screen where once again, there is an archer with a bow and arrow. Composition wise, this shot is pretty awesome. The brim of Rod’s bright red hat is pointing towards the archer, who in turn is drawing back his bow to point an invisible arrow to the right, which is where we see Dwight. The viewer’s eyes are meant to bounce from one to the other - from Rod, to the bow, to Dwight - thus, making the connection.

Rod himself looks to the right, following the viewer’s eyes as they land on Dwight. As the two make eye contact, “Nice to Be with You” hits its opening chorus and the two fall in love.

So, in summary, the two characters fated to be in love - who were old friends before this - are connected by the visual cues of a bow and arrow. Sound familiar? Because, as a reminder, this was the way Dean and Cas were introduced into the same scene just moments earlier. (i.e. Dean waiting at the bar, the arrow pointing towards/behind him, and Cas making his entrance right afterward from the same direction).

And a reminder, these details were deliberate!

Dean and Cas:

[DEAN is seen sitting at the bar watching a hunter on the bars TV aim his bow at the TV screen. CASTIEL walks in the door that’s behind DEAN and sits on the stool next to him.]

Dwight and Rod:

[DWIGHT and ROD stare at the hunter on TV as he displays the use of his bow.]

To wrap up the scene, Dean and Cas finally realize their mistake. Just like the general audience, they hadn’t thought to consider that Dwight’s soulmate may not be a girl. They assumed Dwight’s heterosexuality.

The show itself presents Dwight as an extremely masculine character. Appearance-wise, he has a wild head of hair and a scruffy beard. He’s wearing a neutral-toned plaid flannel, making connections to the rough outdoors and physical labor. He’s even sporting a few scars and bruises from the bar fight earlier that day.

The first time the audience even meets Dwight, it’s when he’s pulling out a gun to protect his bar and patrons.

He’s bold, tough, and willing to get his own hands dirty to protect those around him. He even gets tossed around a bit, earning him a few bloody wounds that he patches up later before returning right back to work later that same night.

Here, we even see him doing some physical labor, picking up the heavy beer cases and moving them behind the bar.

So as far as the audience has seen him, Dwight is a very masculine character. He shoots guns, he gets bloody, and he even serves alcohol for a living, doing all the hard work and manual labor himself. This is what makes his queer sexuality even more of a surprise to the general audience - because Dwight isn’t the image society thinks of when it thinks of queer men. In this way, Dwight challenges the stereotypes of what we understand “masculine” to be.

Out of all the characters in the scene, Dean is the one that most personifies this moment of confusion. Unlike Cas who gets up and follows Cupid out the door, it takes Dean a moment to process this realization, as it probably goes against everything he had been expecting just moments before (As a reminder to the, “This is like the first five minutes of every porno I've ever seen” line). I won’t go too deep in analysis over Dean’s expressions in this scene - I think everyone can make their own interpretation of what’s going through his head here - but I’ll leave some screenshots as a reference.

And that concludes the analysis of the Cupid/bar scene! So, in summary,

While waiting to find Cupid’s bow, Dean watches a tv screen where an archer aims behind Dean, which is exactly when Cas makes his entrance from the same direction

While Dean and Cas talk about how they may never see each other again, “I’m So Blue” - a love song about someone who lost their lover - plays behind them

Dwight and Rod parallel Cas and Dean in multiple ways throughout the scene, including scene composition, Rod’s hat having wings, being old time friends, and the tv archer aiming from Rod to Dwight

Dean and Cas personify the heteronormative perspective of the general audience by assuming the woman (Cupid) was Dwight’s soulmate; along with Dean’s observation of the “sexual tension” between the two. Both of which, we learn, are inaccurate.

So, yeah,  while just a few minutes long, this scene is jam-packed with amazing things to unravel after just the first viewing.

[weneverlearn]

"Our kids were conceived to that one.”

Chewing the fat with Marshall Crenshaw about his 1983 classic, just reissued on Intervention Records

It’s not often you get one of your all time favorite albums from your dentist.

So I’m in 9th grade, and making back and forths in the parents’ station wagon to the dental school at Case Western Reserve University because my four top front teeth were all agog. (My mom figured it was because I’d fallen down the basement stairs when I was one and landed on my face.) Numerous visits that included poking, prodding, and endless numbing shots into the inside of the top jaw was no way to enter the high school years. But having a hep craw doc helped. 

Dr. Sasthma (”It’s like asthma, but with an S” -- funny guy) was his name, and between spit suction and implorations to floss more, we fit in fun music discussions. On the last visit right before the big pulling and twisting procedure, Sasthma sits me down and says, “This one today ain’t gonna be easy, but I’ve got a little prize for you afterwards.” And for the next hour and a half, I sat there with my mouth open (some would say that would not be out of the ordinary), while the doc poked around and made chin-scratching/brow-furrowing decisions, all while my jaw muscles started to atrophy.

Finally, when it was done, he reaches behind the giant dentist chair claw machine thing and pulls out Marshall Crenshaw’s debut album (Warner Bros., 1982). After I had regaled him with how much I liked “Someday, Someway” at the previous visit, he said he tracked down the album for me, though the shrink wrap had been peeled. “Well, I had to give it a listen, and yeah, it’s great!”

L-R: Robert Crenshaw, Marshall Crenshaw, Chris Donato - Photographer unknown

Not only did that little act make me much more tolerant of dentist visits going forward, it gave me one of my favorite albums. Crenshaw’s revived Buddy Holly-meets-nervous with opening pickup lines pop classicism was like a fresh, new toothbrush over all the dreary, dusty, classic rock of my Cleveland radio dial depression, until I took a sharp left into college radio that summer where I first heard Crenshaw, and a lot more. (Thanks WCSB, WRUW, and WUJC!) 

It’s hard to imagine today, hearing Crenshaw’s should-couldabeen power pop nuggets, but his clean looks and simple two-minute tunes made him a little too throwback odd for mainstream radio back then. Who knows or cares, as he still piled up an impressive major label canon before furthering into a long-running career of solid albums and consistent touring. The days of figuring out the whys and hows of mainstream radio play now seems about as useful as wondering how to get better reception on your TV.

Crenshaw’s sophomore album, Field Day (Warner Bros., 1983)? Maybe even better, filled with a slightly wider songwriting palette and production to match it. The term “sophomore album” never fit better for me, as it landed right around my sophomore year, and was a perfect companion on my journey into hook-heavy rock’n’roll obsession and mythical, sun-setting summer romance mythology/reality. 

So imagine my excitement when I got a press release about an impending reissue of Field Day. Despite it’s initial hefty, if brief, publicity push, Top 40-sniffing hit single (”Whenever You’re on My Mind”), and big time producer (Steve Lillywhite), the record didn’t (say it with me) “sell as much as hoped for.” And though Crenshaw did not fall into the usual “got dropped” holes (three more major label albums followed), Field Day did lag just a bit behind the CD explosion, having fallen out of print, and was never given a proper CD version for a few years. 

I only point this out because, goddamn it, it’s a perfect guitar pop record and is one of the best of that fleeting, early-80s moment where bright-eyed corners of the record industry hoped the world might once again embrace melancholy-flecked, otherwise blue-sky singalong songs. ‘Twas that “skinny tie” moment where loads of slacks-sporting Midwesterners parlayed punk’s energy into their pre-teen guitar lessons filled with Beatles covers. And in even that, Crenshaw did not exactly fit -- kind of the front tooth along my otherwise straight top row.

Upstart vinyl reissue label, Intervention Records -- who seem to have a knack for snaring ol’ major label titles from oblivion --  recently released a fine, vinyl-only edition of Field Day, including an extra 12″ EP of remix and live stuff, and different artwork.

I caught up with Crenshaw internet-wise to get his take on the new update of his old classic. 

If memory serves, I saw you play "High School" by the MC5 at an outdoor BBQ fest thing in downtown Cleveland in, like, 1985/6. Any memories of that, and did you cover that tune often? 

I remember that event in Cleveland, like a fried-chicken festival, right? I remember that we used "The Greasy Chicken,” by Andre Williams as walk-on music that day (and on other days). The MC5 song would've been "Tonight.” I never played "High School,” except with DKT-MC5 in 2004. I played "Tonight" a lot over the years. I grew up in the Detroit area, was a big MC5 fan. "Tonight" was sort of a local hit single, got played on CKLW. A band that I was in played it at an audition for a dance at our high school, and I can still picture a girl sitting in front of me watching me play and sing that song, really enthralled by what we were doing. That girl was Ione. She and I are still together.

You grew up in Detroit, right? When did you move, and what were some early influences from living in Detroit, music and otherwise?

I lived in the Detroit area from birth (1953) until 1977, grew up with Rock and Roll music all around me, fell in love with the music during childhood. Detroit was a big test market for records. There were lots of regional hits, on national and local labels. Two that immediately come to mind are, "When You Walk In the Room" by Jackie DeShannon, and "Mind Over Matter" by Nolan Strong and The Diablos -- both massive Detroit hits, both part of my musical DNA. As far as influences besides music go, I don't know where to start. That could turn into a book.

Though the only book Crenshaw has done so far was this excellent compendium of rock’n’roll movies; also, his musical knowledge goes deep. If you can do so, track down this amazing hillbilly compilation he put together in 1989.

Field Day, in title and cover art, was a reference to high school, I assume. But I remember some reviews saying that that record was a kind of more mature version of you -- bigger production, some more serious themes, etc. So what was your inspiration for the high school nod?

I had nothing whatsoever to do with creating the packaging for that record. When we finished recording, I went on vacation with Ione and Robert to visit Robert's girlfriend at the time. She was working on location outside Prague on the movie Amadeus (which I've still never seen. I should see it, I saw it being made). And when I got back, the album cover had been put together by my then-manager. His father co-owned a big company that published magazines. My manager had worked for that company for a minute, and thought that the presentation of images was something that he knew something about. I hated the album’s front cover, got talked into approving it. OOPS! I don't think Warners was pleased that instead of using their art department, he'd hired an expensive design firm to create such a dodgy end-product. He came up with the title; I do like the title, didn't think of high school when he suggested it. "Having a field day" is just a figure of speech, doesn't refer to high school, necessarily. It just means "having a great time,” and indeed we really had a great time making the album.

It said the art for this reissue is how you originally intended. 

I wanted to change the front cover for the reissue, was extremely happy that Intervention Records was into the idea. The only thing that made sense was to use some pre-existing artwork from the time period, namely the front of the picture sleeve for the "Whenever You're On My Mind” 7″.

I just loved Field Day when it came out. I am sure you are more than aware of the "debates" over the production -- which to me made total sense for those songs and that point of your career. What is your take on what you asked of Steve Lillywhite, and how you felt it turned out, back then?

I'm really glad that you like it. I know that the album was "controversial" in the day. I think that all the criticism it got back then was completely lame. When I listened to the first playback of the finished mixes, I had my feet up on the edge of the console; I thought, “This is an album that can kick the world's ass.” We all loved working with Steve. He was the only producer that I talked to going in, my first choice. He said yes right away, and that was that.

I'll assume you were involved in this reissue. What were your thoughts on revisiting it?

I heard about the reissue project after it was already underway, and was just delighted about it. I'd even say that I felt a sense of gratitude that somebody wanted to honor the album, which is what Intervention has done. As a career experience, "Field Day" was an instance where the party-train just ran right into the ditch. I loved the album, didn't get why some people were perplexed by it. I got the test pressing from Intervention and was knocked out. It's just a unique and beautiful Rock and Roll record, if you ask me. And the people at Intervention love it as much as I do.

Your’s truly probably bugging Crenshaw about the MC5 again, post-back alley gig, August, 2012, NYC

Any good stories during the recording of Field Day? In-studio disputes, after-session shenanigans, anything like that?

I don't remember any disputes until after the record was done -- then the shit-storm began. We had nothing but fun while doing it, and there was a festive atmosphere at the sessions. They were all at night, and afterwards we'd go out. I remember going one night to the Roxy Roller Rink disco on the West Side with Steve and a couple of the other guys. This was when hip-hop was first starting to come downtown. When we finally got out of there it was broad daylight. "Monday Morning Rock" was partly inspired by that night...

"Whenever You're on My Mind" was a demo for awhile before it appeared on Field Day, right? How come it didn't make it onto the debut?

I wrote that one before I wrote most of the songs on my first album. When I did the first album I wanted to do all the newer ones first. I'm always most excited about whatever the new thing is. But then, going into "Field Day," I was really glad to have "Whenever" in reserve. And I'm glad that it got recorded when it did, under those circumstances.

The instrumental of "Blues is King" from that era is one of my favorite instrumentals, and just has one of those, maybe accidental, gorgeous, simple demo production vibes. Was that originally an instrumental and you decided to add lyrics later, or what?

I did that instrumental version after I'd written the music; the lyrics didn't happen until a few months later. I do like it as just a piece of instrumental music. And those are Mosrite guitars, which I love the sound of.

Field Day standout, "Our Town" -- when you made Field Day, I believe you'd been living in NYC for awhile. Did you pine to get on a train back to Detroit sometimes? What were the bad and good things about trying to get your music career going in NYC in the very early 1980s?

I never pined to get back to Detroit (although I like visiting there now). That song was written about New York. I'd been on the road for most of a year when I wrote it. I did take a train to Detroit once, from NYC. It was during the last days when Michigan Central Station was still being used by Amtrak. I'd never seen the station during it's heyday, but when I got there it looked not that different than what it looks like now, like an absolute wreck. I still remember the look on my mother's face standing there waiting for me. She looked like she felt ashamed, and like, "You had to take the train and make me go through this, right?" Getting my music career going in NYC in the early '80s was a blast. The scene embraced us right away. It was like dying and going to heaven. 

Did you find yourself attracted to the CBGB scene at the time? 

Yes, we played CBGB many times. I think we even held an attendance record there for a minute, or maybe I dreamt that. But our last couple shows there were mob scenes. I really had my ears and mind open in all different directions during those years in New York, and I can't overstate how much I loved the NY scene then, with all it's diversity, innovation, etc. I'm still proud to have been part of it. And I'm including NY radio in this declaration. I had lots of great go-to stations like WBLS and WKTU ("urban"), WLIB (Caribbean music), WFMU (free-form), WKCR (Jazz), WNYU, with "The Afternoon Show,” and the "Wavebreaker" countdown on Fridays, WNEW ('cause they played us). On and on...

There were a ton of "skinny tie" power pop bands around in the very early '80s too, many from the Midwest. Did you play with the Shoes, Knack, Romantics, Plimsouls, etc.? Were there ones that stuck out for you? I feel like you weren't roped into that signing frenzy trend though.

I played with The Plimsouls in NY once. I loved them, became friends with Peter [Case] back then. But one of my fears in those days was that anybody might lump us in with that Anglophile “skinny tie” thing. I hated most of it, not all of it. I didn't like The Knack, didn't identify with what they were doing, didn't want anybody to identify us with what they were doing. I feel bad saying so, but I'm answering your question. Again, we came out of the NY club scene which was really diverse and eclectic. I wanted our stuff to reflect that as best I could. Another one of my fears, since we took off so fast in NY, was that somebody might tag us as the "Next Big Thing,” and unfortunately that did happen. I had a real sense of doom when I read all that stuff about my first album in Rolling Stone.

Oh, also, we were never part of any signing frenzy. We got our record deal by packing out every NY club we played at, getting our stuff on "mainstream" FM rock radio when they never played local bands on indie labels. We earned it the way you did back then.

"What Time Is It?" -- how did you decide on that cover? I assume you were a big doo wop fan. Once you got to NYC, did you get to play with or meet any old doo wop favorites?

I don't think that happened, but now I wish that it had. It would've been great to meet Randy and The Rainbows, for instance. "Denise" is one of those records that gets me every time. Or Eugene Pitt of The Jive Five. It's too bad I never met him, even after I covered their tune (actually a Feldman-Goldstein-Gottehrer tune, but anyway).

Can you tell me about the making of the "Whenever You're on My Mind" video? Were you one of those who was suspicious of videos back then?

Hahahahaha! By the time we did that one I was really enthusiastic about videos, wanted us to get on that bandwagon. It seemed like most of my favorite ones were British, so we went over there and found a British director. I'm laughing thinking about it now. We tried.

Finally, where would you rank Field Day in your catalog? 

I was really on my game just then. It was some kind of a pinnacle, as far as that moment in my life goes. And it seems to be my most beloved album. People tell me all kinds of things about it, like, "Our kids were conceived to that one.”

[televinita]

Zoo 3.04

Why is this show burning Utica to the ground.

[Side note: this unwieldy post is the product of me doing a skip-through when this episode aired, watching maybe 15 random minutes from beginning to end, writing the part up to the line with the music notes, and finally watching the full episode only to work myself into a swampy mess of partially adjusted feelings once I had all the facts. I hope it is moderately less confusing to follow than this explanation]

A list of ways the show failed me on this outing and, now that I think about it, probably subconsciously contributed to my subsequent abandonment.

1. Continued the reign of Super Jamie, the most boring zealot ever to zeal 2. Set up a weird Madonna/Whore Villain complex with all of its female characters 3. Deeply underwhelmed re: fireworks on the kiss they built up to for nearly two damn years. 4. Pit Jamie and Jackson against each other Me in July: I don't even know which one I am maddest about but I'm pretty sure it's the last one. You know what screw it, I'm gonna flamethrower my OTP and just full steam ahead into the realm of slash. If Jamie can't play nice enough with either of the men I need her to love then I'm gonna toss her out of the equation and make Mitch/Jackson my new fave.

I have been suppressing the desire to run with this since last year, because canon is always superior, I hardly ever slash anyway, and I like to save the non-canon shipping feels for when the canon runs out and I need a new hit of an old love, but whatever. My fondness for the bromance has become epic enough to drop the b. Or replace the b. ♫Confident in bisexuali-tay!♫

[Edit: As you move forward, keep in mind that I spoiled myself a tad on episode 8, probably subconsciously because I needed a reason to push me over the rage hump, and while I am still gonna air my original grievances, I am also still on the Mitch/Jamie train]

------------ AUGUST GRIEVANCE THREE: Not good enough! *whip* So. I happily spoiled myself on the stills for this episode before it aired, which included both kiss scenes, and my heart shot the moon. Then I saw them in context and my heart fell into the basement. My reaction was a lot of "you had TWO OFF-SEASONS TO NOT SCREW THIS UP HOW DID YOU SCREW THIS UP," followed by creating this post that I really should have just posted at the time, but I waited too long, so now it is only a storyboard artifact:

I just...I wanted it to be a bigger moment. Or I at least wanted to feel more. I felt twenty times more emotion from their reunion hug in 2x05, or one stupid handhold on the beach, than I did for the most significant moment they've had since season 1, and that is not the way it should be. I'm still having a really hard time coming up with why it wasn't saved for the end of the episode, or why the kiss wasn't introduced at the beginning, interrupted by a Panic Plot, and then resolved in a Thank God We're Alive way. As for the hookup part, well, some people express their feelings through song; I am much better at expressing mine through snarky recap:

Update y'all, they did in fact go bang. In the middle of the day. And then got redressed and continued the plot because who would want their characters to have nice things like a whole night together for their first time when they could instead toss it off as casual "anyway lol thanx for the afternoon delight buddy, now hang on I gotta go do a murder."

I don't even need them to make a big emotional deal out of things; clearly they are both people who are very fine with hookups, but the fact that the most epic reunion was popped off in the early middle part of the episode just to set up that Jamie will put Her Cause before everything did not sit well with me. I still wanna know what was the point of separating them for 10 years before they ever got together if their reunion wasn't going to be the focal point. If you're gonna be like this, literally nothing would have been changed by eliminating the love triangle and letting them be together in season 2. I think and hope that most people really liked this scene, though, and more power to you if you did. I think I watched it wrong. G.3 TAKE TWO The thing is, I did watch it wrong. I delayed posting this by an extra day because it really bugged me that I didn't love the kiss. I watched it 8 times trying to pinpoint where the bottom fell out, because I definitely appreciate that Mitch finally got to talk to Jamie at the bar without her running away. I liked him answering honestly about how he's doing post-op, I liked him directly confronting her about her dark turn, and what is left? I hypothesized that maybe "How about now?" just didn't feel like enough segue to kissing. I hypothesized that maybe it wasn't the words but the body language; leaning across from two separate chairs is kinda awkward. But anyone knows that if you watch a thing you want to like enough times, you brainwash yourself into liking it, so guess who is now on board with this moment. Somewhere between my sitting close enough to the computer to notice the emotion in Mitch's face, Jamie's right hand covering his, how much I love his hand on her face, and the swelling orchestral score that reminds me of the Will/Elizabeth beach scene in Pirates of the Caribbean...I stumbled into the promised land of shipper joy. I've even convinced myself to like the very phrase I thought was not good enough. Mitch has previously gone big and gone home alone. So this time it is the smallest possible overture with no expectations attached -- and score. I am still annoyed about the pacing and Jamie's abrupt departure post-bedroom, though. ----------------------- GRIEVANCE TWO: Why do you want us to hate women? Serious question how is that any woman who isn't the literal blessed mother Clementine is cold, calculating and/or pure evil? Like, I'm not saying that I would not normally be all on board with a team of mercenary lesbians, but when both evil fronts are also personified by power-hungry women and Jamie's ends justify all means and a mother is selling someone else's kid then...like...to take a Chandler Bing quote completely out of context: WHERE are ALL the MEN?? We're talking about reproductive rights. If the political side of Tumblr has led me to believe anything, it's that men are all about controlling that. (Looks like they show up in the next installment, tho.) ------------------------- GRIEVANCE FOUR (again): Jamie/Jackson Why don't you just stab me through the heart with a hybrid horn. I hope everybody has been whispering to each other like "who's gonna tell her?" / "Not me I don't wanna be there when Televinita's hopes and dreams for the backstory of her fave wayward ship get blown to kingdom come; I heard she threatens to perform brain surgery on people with power drills." Now, to be fair, I have spent weeks in a state of rage thinking that Jamie sold him out on purpose to further her vengeance quest, because in my patchy scene-jumping I missed the important part where she tried to protect them all with pseudonyms. My feathers have de-ruffled considerably.

I'm just...still annoyed. That there is this much bad blood after that amazing scene in 2x13 where he sat on the steps with her and held her while she cried, and I wrote beautiful analysis no one ever saw about them matching heartbreak for heartbreak, the widow and widower of this war.

in case u need a reminder

AND YOU JUST DESTROYED MY HOPE OF THEM BEING PLATONIC LIFE PARTNERS FOR YOUR SHODDY PLOT NEEDS?!, I WILL MURDER YOU. (well, I'll get my dino-vultures to come after you. Guys, I might be having a problem where Abigail is becoming my hero and I want to join her? I think I'm watching it wrong again...)

----------

GRIEVANCE ONE: canceled.

I had so much more rage about Jamie the Assassin before I sneaked a peek at episode 5's plot and was assured she did not actually go out and do a murder**. Prior to that I was 'bout to drop Jamie into a volcano myself. Plus Mitch does get in some good shots at Logan while they're running around Reiden Tower, so on second viewing this is a lot more fun.

**To be clear, I have been consciously using this phrase in reference to Trelkez'sIn Secret macro recap (spoilers for that movie), which I have not stopped laughing at.

NON-GRIEVANCES

* Props to the prop department for the dead vulture hybrid.

* "Pizza" is even better than Henry. Do you think he will ultimately have a more significant role to play than Henry, or is he just there to look cute? (I have no problem with him just being there to look cute.)

* I got a giggle out of Mitch's "the vigilante thing? Kinda workin' for me," because it would.

* My favorite part of this entire episode, though, is Mitch and Jackson coming to an agreement that they need to keep an eye on Jamie, just because it reminds me of one of the few things I like about Mitch/Jamie in season 2. Even though I know there is soon-to-be-revealed irony afoot in Jamie being the problem here.

[clary-jace]

sign of the times (a riley matthews fic)

But she swallows the tightness in her throat, forces a small smile on her face and hangs up the graduation picture of her and her friends above her desk. Her heart tugs as she thinks of them all, scattered across the country. All off to find their own destinies. Her fingers ghost over her ribcage, the galaxy etched into her skin burning at the thought of them all. The pride that she often feels when she thinks of her friends comes crashing onto her like an ocean wave.

She ignores the bitter feeling of loneliness that follows it only moments later.

Chapter: 1 (Girl Meets New Beginnings)  Ships: Riley/Lucas (main romantic pairing), platonic Riley/Clique Six, Riley/Charlie, Riley/Dave & Riley/Asher  Word Count: 11k+ 

Notes: Well here it is friends, the first chapter of what will hopefully become my best work yet. I’m so excited for this fic and everything I plan to do with it and I hope you guys are excited too. Special shout out, as always to @friarlucas for editing and overall supporting this endeavor. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, this fic takes place in the same canon verse as Maggie’s “Gravity on the Open Road” fic, you don’t need to read that fic to understand this one, although I highly recommend it, because it’s a wonderful fic!

Riley enters college under the complete and total assumption that she’s going to love it. She has no reason to think otherwise, especially after bidding all of her friends goodbye on their road trip across the country, and their wide-eyed and blinding smiles burned in her memory forever. They were all excited for the next chapter in their lives, and she was too. Of course she was nervous, but those nerves were overshadowed by something stronger, an anticipation and excitement of things to come.

So when she drudges across the main lawn of New York University, her backpack on her shoulder and duffle bag in hand, her parents bickering behind her and her younger brother by her side, a smile finds its way across her face. Things are going to be different -- no friends, no Lucas, no dad as her teacher, but she has faith that it will be a good different.

Her room is a cramped double in the third floor corner of the largest freshman dorm, and her roommate merely nods at her when she first enters. While this dampens her spirits momentarily, she catches a glimpse of the New York streets below her window and realizes that things aren’t all bad. She’s Riley after all, always finding the good in otherwise unsatisfactory situations.

She won’t lie and say the less than pleasant living arrangements she finds herself in makes the goodbye she bids to her family hurt any less, but she plasters on her ever-present Riley Matthews smile and knows that things will get better in time.

Her roommate, as she learns over the next couple of hours is named Hannah, is a chemistry major and is not in college to make friends. That stings a little and Riley’s childish dream of being best friends (as best of friends as one can be with her true best friend across the country in California) with her college roommate immediately crumbles around her in a cloud of dust.

But she swallows the tightness in her throat, forces a small smile on her face and hangs up the graduation picture of her and her friends above her desk. Her heart tugs as she thinks of them all, scattered across the country. All off to find their own destinies. Her fingers ghost over her ribcage, the galaxy etched into her skin burning at the thought of them all. The pride that she often feels when she thinks of her friends comes crashing onto her like an ocean wave.

She ignores the bitter feeling of loneliness that follows it only moments later.

…

It doesn’t take long for Riley to realize that college is much more difficult than high school ever prepared her for. By mid-September she already feels like she’s drowning in papers and exams and study sessions and she hardly feels like she has time to breath let alone do the mountains of homework she has every night.

“I just never expected it to be this hard, especially so early on,” she muses one day, stabbing a cherry tomato with her plastic fork.

“I guess they’re trying to weed out the weak,” Asher Garcia says with a small smirk on his face as they make eye contact across the table.

It was honestly a blessing in disguise that one of Lucas’ childhood best friends was attending NYU alongside her. Not only did it give her the comfort of having a familiar face around, but he reminded her so much of Lucas that spending time with him made the pain of the actual Lucas being 1,500 miles away in Austin dull, even if only for a couple of hours.

She laughed lightly, shaking her head as she popped a crouton into her mouth and considered his words. “You might have a point, but why are they trying to weed out the weak? Shouldn't they want everyone to succeed?”

“Maybe, or maybe they’re just trying to get you to drop out.” She gasps, tossing her balled up napkin at him, laughing when it hits him right in the eye. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, don’t kill me please.”

“Oh, like I could ever kill you.”

“I know that you could. Lucas told me once that you were like, freakishly strong,” Asher teases, flicking a stray french fry at her across the table. “But seriously, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, I think this is all just so hard because we’re not used to it. This place is different than high school, we just need to learn the ways.”

They share a smile, and Riley realizes that she’s very very lucky to know Asher Garcia.

…

“How was your week?”

Riley sighs softly, leaning her elbows forward on her desk as she looks at her boyfriend through the low quality webcam on her laptop. It was Friday night and her roommate was gone, leaving Riley to inhabit their small, lifeless room alone. Fall break was right around the corner and Riley was desperate for it. Despite the pep talk from Asher a couple of weeks ago, things had yet to really get any easier.

“It was alright, my biology class dissected a squid the other day in lab. Which, if I never have to do anything like that again, I’ll be a very happy camper.” She blanched, shivering when she thought back to the unsettling feeling in her stomach during her lab period.

“Looks like science is off the table then?”

Lucas’s quiet laughter caused her to smile lightly, and she met his gaze through the camera. The softness of his eyes brought a flutter to her stomach, and it amazed her that even miles and miles away he still had this kind of effect on her.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

She gave another small sigh, propping her chin on her hands. Her eyes fall from Lucas’s face to the graded essay sitting on the desk next to her.

Science wasn’t the only thing that seemed off the table, if the glaring D staring back at her from her economics paper was any indication. She knew from her experience at Abigail Adams that getting a D on one paper didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things, but it just felt like her entire life was a D these days.

“Don’t get too discouraged though, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. You really like your English class, don’t you?”

She appreciated that he was helping her through this. One of the most frustrating things hindering her college experience was that she still really had no idea what she wanted to actually major in. All of her friends had their dreams and lives seemingly planned out, or at least had a blueprint for their future, while she was staring at a blank piece of paper willing for a plan to map itself out in front of her.

“Yeah, the professor is really great and I’ve enjoyed every paper I’ve had to write for her, but I don’t know if I want to be an English major.” The slight frustration was evident in her tone and she mentally chastised herself for bringing the mood down in her and Lucas’s conversation. She was sure that he had better things to focus on than his indecisive girlfriend’s struggle to determine her major.

“You don’t have to have it all figured out now, Riley. Freshman year has barely started. You have plenty of time to find your dream.”

Riley resisted the urge to playfully scoff at him. Talk like that was easy for him to say. It was just frustrating. She was spending her first semester taking a wide variety of classes trying to find something, anything, that inspired her or spoke to her.

So far, she had come up empty handed.

“Alright mister ‘I’ve wanted to be a veterinarian since I was twelve years old.’ I know I have plenty of time it’s just... frustrating. You, Maya, Zay, Farkle and Smackle all know what you want to do, and I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of the woods without a map.” Frowning slightly, she shook her head, determined to switch around the conversation before it got any more serious. It’s not that she didn’t think Lucas would be able to help her, she just didn’t want him feeling like he had to.

She could figure this out on her own, there was no need to saddle him with her woes. “But enough about me, I want to here about this buddy program you were talking about!”

Riley briefly saw a glimmer or something in Lucas’s eye, like he knew that she was trying to take the focus off of her and change the subject. But he didn’t push her. Instead, he launched into talking about the program he was thinking about joining, a soft, easy smile on his face. A far cry from the one that she constantly found on his features during high school. It made her happy to see him doing so well in his new environment.

Maybe it did him good to be away from New York.

Despite the uneasiness that was still sitting in her stomach, she managed to push it away, focusing instead on Lucas. Turns out that even across the country, when the two of them are together, the rest of the world fades away.

…

When fall break finally arrives, Riley is eager to get off campus. She finishes up her Friday morning math class, immediately packs her bag and is out the door before her roommate returns from her morning seminar.

It’s a weird shift from when she first arrived only a couple months ago full of excitement and anticipation for a new adventure. That weird feeling that had been coming and going within her for weeks now seems to have settled in for the long haul and while she doesn’t quite have the words to explain, she’s not a fan of it.

It doesn’t take her long to realize that she’s the only one of her friends who doesn’t have something exciting planned for the long weekend. A few clicks on social media, a text from Maya and a phone call from Lucas earlier in the week informs her that all of her friends are either going somewhere with new friends, working on exciting new projects, or in Lucas’ case, going on a fishing trip with his grandfather. Even Asher has plans to travel to New Jersey with his roommate.

The whole situation gives Riley a strange sensation -- on one hand, she’s thrilled that all of her favorite people will be busy and happy, but on the other she can’t help but feel like an outsider, seeing as her plans to catch up on sleep pales in comparison.

“Hi sweetheart!” Riley’s surprised to find her mother home when she pushes open the door to her family’s apartment, but accepts the warm hug without hesitation. “I didn’t know when we should expect you, I thought for a minute I might have to go down to campus and drag you home.”

Riley forces a laugh against her mother’s shoulder, afraid to admit that she had practically sprinted to the nearest subway stop, trying to formulate a way to stay home the longest possible time that she could. She didn’t want her parents to think she was unhappy, because that really wasn’t the case, she just was desperate for the time at home. Besides, she didn’t need her parents worrying about things that didn’t require their concern.

“I only had one class today and I thought it might be a nice surprise if I was home when Auggie got home,” she says with a sincere smile, removing herself from Topanga’s arms and moving to take her coat off.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be very surprised to see you.” Topanga winks at her before moving into the kitchen where she had been preparing a salad. Riley takes a glance at the food and is unsurprised when she realizes she didn’t eat breakfast that morning. She had quickly realized that the NYU dining hall was far from her favorite place to be, unless she knew Asher was going to be there. What she doesn’t expect is that hunger doesn’t settle in her stomach, if anything the food looks unappetizing to her and she would much rather take a nap than anything else. “I think I made enough of this for the two of us, you want some?”

“Uh, no thanks. I think I’m just gonna go and lay down if that’s alright. I had a big breakfast so I think I’ll just eat when Auggie gets home.” Riley forces a small smile, wanting nothing more than just to go and collapse in her familiar, comfortable bed.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Just make sure you eat later,” Topanga says with a smile, allowing Riley to grab her bag and escape the living area without any more questions. Once Riley is in the safety of her bedroom, she lets out the breath she wasn’t aware she was holding and immediately falls onto her bed.

It’s once she’s in the comfort of her childhood bedroom and her warm and safe bed, she realizes just how tired she really is and it’s only moments later when her eyes fall closed.

....

She doesn’t know how long she’s asleep, but when she wakes the sun has fallen behind the horizon and she can hear her parents and younger brother chatting outside her door in the dining area. She can vaguely smell pasta and realizes that her family is eating without her. That stings, but she figures that they’ve been living without her for almost two whole months, she can’t blame them for not realizing she’s there. It’s certainly not something she’s going to make a big deal about.

Swallowing the weird lump in her throat, she slowly opens the door of her bedroom and pads down the hallway to the kitchen, immediately catching the attention of Auggie.

“Riley!” he exclaims, and it amazes her that he’s nearly thirteen and still gets excited to see her. That’s something that she hopes never changes no matter how old they both grow. Auggie eagerly jumps from his chair and wraps his arms around her, and Riley tries to ignore the weird tears that pool in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh my goodness, sweetheart, I completely forgot that you were here!” her mother exclaims. “You were being so quiet and we’ve gotten so used to it being just the three of us, I didn’t think any of it.”

Cory merely smiles at her, standing from his chair to embrace her as well. Riley tries to ignore the sting that leaves on her heart, instead focusing on her father’s arms tightly around her shoulders.

“I missed you, honey.” He whispers into her hair and those weird tears become heavier in her eyes. Once he pulls away from her, she takes a deep breath and gives her entire family a smile, sitting down in her usual seat across from her mother. Moments later Auggie is putting an empty plate down in front of her, and she gives him a grateful smile.

She’s vaguely aware of the dull ache in her stomach at the lack of food she had consumed that day, but her appetite is still off on another planet and even though she takes some spaghetti and a piece of bread from the middle of the table, she can’t bring herself to eat it.  

“So, Riley, how are classes going?” her father asks, giving her a smile. She picks up her fork and begins to spin the pasta around, returning her father’s grin.

“They’re alright,” she lies, pushing away the image of her low economics grades and her botched biology exam and instead focusing on her English professor’s compliment of her work just the other day. “I really love my English class.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence and Riley can tell that her parents are waiting for her to say something else, but any lies that she tries to tell die before they can make it out of her mouth. She would rather just force a smile then make her parents think that there’s anything to worry about. The last thing she wants is for them to think that she’s falling behind, and she knows she can get her grades up by the end of the semester and there will be nothing for them to worry about.

“What about your friends? Any of them doing anything exciting over break?” Topanga asks, and Riley gulps. This is the question she was most dreading and she immediately feels a weird claminess in her hands and her throat tightens as she tries to formulate a response.

Because, despite her efforts, Riley had yet to make any real friends at NYU.

Sure, there were kids like Dave and Sarah, who she knew from high school, the former sharing math class with her, but they hardly spent any time together and mostly just nodded at each other if they passed each other on the green. She tried reaching out to kids in her classes, but had yet to find someone who actually wanted to be friends with her, the memory of her biology lab partner practically rolling her eyes when Riley suggested they have dinner together in the dining hall was going to take some time to recover from. Not to mention that her and her roommate had still yet to speak more than four words to each other at a time.

Instead, she decided to just tell her parents about Asher. He was her only real friend at NYU, anyways. “Um, I’m not sure, I know Asher is going with his roommate to New Jersey. He’s never really been to the east coast, so he’s excited.” She said, an easy smile falling upon her face. “I think my roommate mentioned that she was hanging around on campus.”

Her parents merely nod and smile at her, moving the conversation to the new batch of freshman that Cory has at Abigail Adams next year, with Auggie occasionally jumping in to muse about Ava and the woes of the 7th grade.

Riley feels her face become hot as she realizes how well they all seem to move around her. She feels like she’s an outsider in her own family, like she’s watching a movie about the perfect Matthews family of three. She drowns the salty feeling of tears in the back of her throat with spaghetti, barely tasting it as she shoves into her mouth. No one in her family notices.

Later that night, she’s desperate for the relief of sleep, not caring when she wakes up the next morning. She can’t seem to shake the day’s events and she just wants to leave it all behind, hoping that the next day, that strange feeling is gone.

Slipping on Lucas’s Brooklyn sweatshirt, which she seems to be wearing more and more frequently, she crawls into bed and flicks the light off. Her eyes fall closed as soon as her head hits the pillow.

…

The rest of the weekend passes in a blur. She spends one day in the park with Auggie, tossing a frisbee and listening to him ramble about how complicated middle school relationships are. She’s unable to not think back to falling into a stranger’s lap on the subway and library conversations that all seem like a distant memory that brings a smile to her face. But most of her break is spent holed up in her room.

She talks to Maya on the phone one night, smiling when she can practically hear her best friend’s smile through the phone. She misses Maya more and more every day, but she can’t deny that she doesn’t think she’s ever heard Maya happier, which seems to be a recurring theme that stings Riley’s heart more than she’s willing to admit.

She doesn’t bring up any of her own woes to Maya, not wanting to shake her best friend’s happiness, she knows that if she expresses any kind of sadness that Maya would be there for her in a heartbeat, but she doesn’t want to do that to her. Maya doesn’t deserve to be knocked down by Riley’s raincloud, not when she’s creating her own sunshine.

When her mother brings her back to her dorm room the final day of break, Riley hugs her, less enthusiastically than she did in August, still not feeling at home in her dorm, but feeling less at home in her own home than she ever has. It doesn’t take her long to realize that the reason no place feels like home anymore, her home is scattered around the country, her heart and soul residing in Texas and California.

Settling back on her bed, she vaguely wonders when Hannah will return, or if she left campus at all. All Riley knows is that for now she’s alone, a familiar sensation as of late. Her ponders however are interrupted when her phone vibrates next to her on the bed, the name flashing across the screen bringing a wide grin to her face.

Lucas Friar ♥: Sorry for being MIA over the weekend. There was zero service where we were. I promise that we’ll talk tomorrow once I’m back at school. Hope you had a good break. 

Attached to the message from her boyfriend is a picture of Lucas and his childhood best friend Dylan, their arms around each other and smiles gracing both of their faces as they showed their fish off to the camera.

The picture brings a wide grin to her own face, Lucas’ smile had always made her feel a certain feeling that she had realized as a young sophomore in high school could only be described as love. But a moment later, she felt her vision blur and the stupid tears were back in her eyes and she desperately tried to shake them away.

Sending back a quick message telling him that she’s glad he had a good time and she’s looking forward to talk to him tomorrow, she sinks into her pillows, suddenly feeling tired and like she could go to bed, despite the early hour and the sun still peaking out over the horizon.

Her heart feels heavy and there are tears still prickling in the corner of her eyes, but instead of wiping them away, she merely feels her eyes close, sleep overtaking her, and she doesn’t have the energy to push it away.

…

By the time Halloween rolls around, Riley feels like she’s stranded in the middle of the ocean without a life raft or a paddle and in minutes away from drowning. She barely registers that the holiday has arrived, as she hasn’t been paying much attention to the days, only knowing what classes she’s supposed to be going to at what time of day and how many times a week she’s going.

So when Halloween, this year falling on a Friday much to the delight of the entire NYU campus, arrives, Riley is taking aback. It says a lot about how tired and out of it she truly is when she doesn’t notice people wearing costumes in her morning class, and only finds out about the holiday when Asher mentions it in the dining hall at lunch.

“Alright, so I was thinking that we could maybe hit up this party that a guy in my bio class this morning was talking about. I know you don’t like parties, but I think it’ll be fun and it’s Halloween. We don’t have to stay that long, just like an hour and you don’t even have to wear a costume.” It takes Riley a moment to register what Asher is saying, as she’s too busy staring at the plate of food in front of her, but she snaps out of her daze when she hears the word ‘party.’

“I don’t know...I never even went to parties in high school, I really doubt a college party is going to be anything close to my kind of scene.” She nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders, desperate for him to let this one slide. Riley really enjoys having Asher around, but she knows that he’s been far more successful at making friends than she has, and that going to a party could very well result in her spending the entire evening standing by herself while college students get drunk around her.

“Come on Riley, it might be fun.” Asher prodes, knocking her hands with his. She smiles slightly at him, knowing that his intentions are nothing short of genuine, but she just, really can’t bring herself to be excited about it. She had really been banking on spending her friday night curled up in her dorm room, doing absolutely nothing.

“Parties really aren’t my thing, besides, I’ve never been the biggest fan of Halloween.” She says, shrugging again, that was a lie if she had ever told one. Halloween was always her favorite holiday after Christmas, but now that she didn’t have anyone to really celebrate it with, she didn’t really want to spend it with other people.

“I don’t believe you, but I respect that you don’t want to go. Parties aren’t for everyone.” Asher said, dropping the subject with a small shrug. Riley was relieved, but there was still a weird pit settling itself in her stomach.

They spent the rest of the meal in casual conversation, most of being led by Asher, who launched into a story about his psychology professor, and the whole talk of the party seemed to fade away. Riley continued to just pick at her food though, the weird feeling not going away and pushing away any appetite that she might have had, not that she had much of one to begin with.

Ultimately Riley didn’t do anything for Halloween. That night, after classes were done and her roommate had departed for whatever reason, she crawled into her bed and determined that she wasn’t going to be going anywhere until she absolutely had to. Lucas had texted her earlier that day asking about her plans, telling her that he was hanging out with his roommate and some of his friends. At the time she had lied and told him that she was hanging out with a couple girls on her floor, and had no plans to tell him any differently.

The last thing she needed was Lucas cancelling on his friends to talk to her, which she knows he would do if he found out she was spending her second favorite holiday alone.

So, she ignores the phone call from Maya that she gets, the texts from Asher and the facetime request from Farkle, deciding to turn her phone off, giving the guise of being too busy to respond to any of their messages.

Instead, she pulls out her laptop, opens up the first episode of Red Planet Diaries, deciding a rewatch is the best way to spend her Halloween, pushing away the weird aching feeling in her heart and the quesiness in her stomach. A ghost of a smile plays on her face as the theme song echoes through her empty dorm, and she blinks away the weird tears that are prickling in the corner of her eyes.

She’s okay. She swears.

…

“Ms. Matthews, sorry to keep you waiting, please come in.” Riley’s stomach was in knots as she stood from her chair and gave her professor nervous smile. When she had received the email earlier in the week about wanting to meet with her, Riley had a strange feeling she knew exactly what this meeting was about.

Her economics professor was a kind woman, Dr. Ryland, who looked like she could be someone’s grandmother. In fact with the way her eyes seemed to almost sparkle, and the sincerity behind her smile, she almost reminded Riley of the photos she had seen lining the walls of Lucas’ grandfather’s house of his grandmother, Mabel.

Following her professor into the small, but homey, office, Riley couldn’t help but knot her hands together at her stomach. Taking a seat in the chair across from Dr. Ryland, Riley’s stomach lurched, and she gulped down the bile that was running up the back of her throat. She was so mad at herself for letting this happen, she knew that she shouldn’t have done it, but she couldn’t help it and now she was paying the price.

“Ms. Matthews, I can see that look on your face and I want to assure you that you are in no way in trouble for anything. I know that you probably think that you are, but you’re not. Don’t worry.” That did little to settle Riley’s stomach and she only continued to future knot her fingers together, ignoring the jolts of pain running up and down the length of her arm.

“Sorry, I have a tendency to jump to bad conclusions.” She said weakly, clearing her throat. That certainly wasn’t a lie, she had often been told that she had a flare for the dramatics and always thinking things are way worse than they actually are. She had never thought that was anything wrong with it until now, it seemed like a lot of things about her were wrong these days.

“That’s quite alright, I just wanted to maybe ease your mind a little bit. Now, I bet you did know I called you in here to talk about the fact that you haven’t handed in the most recent paper yet.” Dr. Ryland said, a small smile on her face, and Riley’s heart dropped. “But, I more brought you in here to ask you if everything was alright, I know the first semester of college can be rough for some people, and sometimes they let assignments go because they have a million other thoughts running through their head. So, Ms. Matthews, is everything alright?”

Is everything alright?

That was certainly not the question that Riley had been expecting to answer. She knew deep deep down what the answer really was and for a brief moment she considered opening up to her professor. But then her sense took over, overpowering her silly sensibility and she knew that she needed to nod and say that yeah, everything was fine.

Her professor wasn’t someone who needed to know her stupid, unimportant struggles. She knew herself that they were hardly something she needed to write home about. Her professor had far bigger things to worry about than a silly freshman who was a little lonely and had been sleeping more than usual. So she plastered a smile on her face and forced out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, I guess I just misinterpreted the syllabus, got a bunch of the dates mixed up. I promise it won’t happen again and I’ll get the paper to you really soon, I promise.” She said, the words flooding out of her mouth before she could stop them, lie after lie whizzing past her lips. Giving another forced smile, she stood from her chair, trying her best to look put together.

“Um, alright. Well, if there’s anything you ever need to talk about Riley, you can come and talk to me. I know I might just seem like a professor, but I promise I care.” A genuine smile flashed across Dr. Ryland’s lips and Riley was fairly certain her professor knew that she was lying, but Riley didn’t have it in her to sit down and tell the truth, no one needed to know all that and she was certain that no one really cared.

“Thank you. See you in class Dr. Ryland.” Riley said quickly, flashing a small grin and exiting the room, ignoring the flush of her face and the hotness of tears that were gathering in the corners of her eyes. Learning her head back against the wall next to the office door, she took three deep breaths, doing her best to slow down her erratic heartbeat.

She really was alright, nothing to concern anyone else with.

…

Riley had decided early in the semester that she wanted to go to Texas for Thanksgiving. That decision had been made following a particularly long skype conversation with Lucas in which she decided that she couldn’t wait until Christmas to see him again, but she wanted the whole thing to be a surprise. So, she called up his grandfather and made all of the plans behind Lucas’ back, Pappy Joe being more than willing to help her orchestrate the whole thing.  She knew that Lucas wasn’t the biggest fan of surprises, but she hoped that he would be a fan of this one.

Telling her parents was a rough conversation that she purposefully did over the phone so she wouldn’t have to see her mom’s crestfallen face or her dad’s slight disappointment that she was spending an important family holiday with her boyfriend rather than her family. But, her parents ultimately were understanding that Lucas was just as much her family as they were and that she missed him, and they reasoned that she would home for Christmas and that they had seen her a couple of times since she had started school and she hadn’t seen Lucas since August.

So, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Riley found herself standing in JFK airport at about 11am, having rushed after her 8am class so she would have time to breath before her noon flight. Lucas didn’t get out of classes until almost 5, so Pappy Joe would be picking her up from the airport and then they would be making the journey to A&M to pick up Lucas. Then his mother would be joining them on Wednesday.

Riley hadn’t heard anything about whether or not his father would be joining the rest of the family, or if work would once again be keeping him from spending time with his family, not that she believed Kenneth cared either way.

She was a little nervous, mainly because she wasn’t the biggest fan of flying and Lucas still had absolutely no idea she was coming, but for the first time in a while, she was filled with the unmistakable feeling of joyful anticipation.

After months of only seeing Lucas’ face through a computer screen, she would finally get to see him in person and hug him and hear his voice in her ear. It was all she could have asked for and she knew exactly what she was going to be thankful of this year.

The two hours of being in JFK allowed her anticipation to only grow more and more and she briefly wondered if there would be any reason that Lucas might not be as excited to see her as she was him. She quickly pushed those thoughts away, he had told her just the other day on the phone how much he missed her and couldn’t wait until Christmas so they could see each other.

She was just trying to do what she did best, create a miserable situation for herself, she wished she knew how to turn her brain off sometimes, that would be a handly tool.

“Flight 1982 to Austin, Texas now boarding” The loud, droning voice snapped Riley out of her daze and her heart began to flutter and with a smile, she grabbed her bag and loaded onto the plane, excited for the days to come, knowing that this would easily outshine every other memory she had made in college so far.

Whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing, she couldn’t tell. Nor did she care all too much.

…

The flight to Austin was long and more than once Riley had felt like she was going to throw up because of the turbulence, but before long she was standing in the Austin airport, scanning the crowd for the familiar face of her boyfriend’s grandfather. She knew he would be hard to miss and when her eyes finally landed on him, her smile grew on her face and she couldn’t help but break into a run to greet him.

Chuckling as she wrapped her arms around him, Pappy Joe Friar complied to her hug, squeezing her lightly as she laughed against his shoulder.

“Happy to see you made it just fine.” He said when she finally pulled away. Riley knew that Pappy Joe wasn’t exactly one for mushiness or feelings, so his words definitely held a lot of weight and she was grateful that he was so willing to come and grab her from the airport.

“Happy to be here.” She said, a real smile spreading on her face and happiness filling her up from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She had dreamed about this since she made the plans months ago, and now she was actually here, it all felt a little too good to be true and she knew that feeling would only amplify when she could to see Lucas again.

“Well, come one now, Lucas called me right before you landed told me that he was all done with his classes and he’s ready to be picked up. Apparently he got done earlier than he expected, so the timing worked out perfectly.” Riley’s heart began to speed up in her chest, she smelt like airplane and looked like she had just rolled out of bed, no doubt, but she hardly cared.

Pappy Joe carried her bag for her, something he insisted on doing, and got her safely in the passenger seat, smiling at her when he walked around the truck and got himself into the driver’s seat. Riley knew that this was a small vehicle and that she would probably end up in between Lucas and Pappy Joe on the way back, but for now, she hardly cared. Besides, being squished up against her boyfriend wasn’t exactly a bad thing, even if his grandfather was the reason why.

It didn’t take them long before they were out on the open road and on their way to A&M, the familiarity of the situation making Riley more emotional than she would have thought. The memories of dropping Lucas off all those months ago hitting her like a freight train.

“So, Riley, how’s college going? Lukey tells me that you’re taking a whole variety of classes, really casting your net.” Riley grinned slightly, of course Lucas would put a positive spin on her slight identity crisis in her attempt to find her passion, he always found a way to make things to do with her positive, even if he had a hard time doing it with himself.

“It’s alright, a little harder than I would have thought, but I’m enjoying it.” That was partially a lie, but add Lucas’ grandfather to the list of people who really didn’t need to know all of her meaningless struggles. She still wasn’t even sure if she was going to say anything to Lucas, based on what she had heard from him, he had been doing nothing but succeeding since college started and she didn’t want to bring him down with her woes.

“Well, from what I know about you, I know that you’ll be fine and that soon enough you’ll be taking NYU by storm, making it all yours.” Pappy Joe grinned at her across the seat and she couldn’t help but smile at him.

Granted she didn’t believe him, but still, the sentiment was enough for now.

…

Pulling up at the A&M campus, it shocked Riley that she had forgotten how large it was. NYU was hardly small, but everything at A&M intimidated her with it’s size, she was almost afraid to get out of the car, nervous that she would be swallowed by the crowd of people. She remembered there being a lot of people, but not this many people.

“Lucas is over in that hall right over there, do you wanna come with me, or stay here. Either way he’ll be surprised so it’s all up to you.” Taking a look out the window, Riley gulped. She couldn’t remember the last time there had been this many people around her and that weird nervous feeling was settling in her stomach again and she was pretty sure she just needed a moment alone before seeing Lucas.

“I’ll wait here, I think that will surprise him more.” She said, a smile falling onto her face. Once Pappy Joe exited the car and left her alone, she took a deep breath. This was a familiar routine for her these days, deep breaths and counting to five. It had worked a for the first couple weeks she exercised the method, but lately she had been taking longer breaths and counting to ten rather than five.

Closing her eyes, she breathed again, counting up to fifteen in her head, picturing her friends and Lucas as she always did, they were her happy place after all. Smiling softly, she opened her eyes again, her heart slamming against her ribcage when she saw Pappy Joe making his way back over to the truck, a very familiar face by his side.

Lucas was smiling as he spoke to his grandfather, and despite the fact that he was probably still 30 feet away, Riley could practically see his eyes sparkling. The sight was her favorite thing in the entire world and she wanted to commit this Lucas image to memory and hold it in her heart forever. Swallowing, she exited the car herself, standing against the door and taking another deep breath, she could hear his laugh now, bright and clear.

“Now, throw your stuff in the back there and then hope in, we gotta get home before it gets too dark.”

She heard him before she saw him, she heard the clunk of his backpack in the back of the truck, the sound of his boots against the pavement before they stopped in their tracks, no doubt out of shock.

“Riley?” His voice was soft and she almost forgot what it sounded like when it wasn’t muffled through a phone or a webcam. She was teary eyed again and this time she didn’t make the effort to push away her tears, too focused on launching herself into his arms, knowing that she didn’t have to worry about him catching her. He always did.

He didn’t say anything, just chuckled softly against her hair, and she could only smile into his shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure how long they stood like that, but she didn’t care, she could have stayed here for the rest of her life and had a life well lived.

She was finally home again.

…

Lucas and her didn’t talk much on the way back to Pappy Joe’s ranch, not because they had nothing to say, but because they knew that everything they wanted to say was more suited for late night whispers than it was sitting in a cramped truck with his grandfather.

So instead, they settled for holding hands, Riley was fairly certain that now that they were together, she was going to have to be pried away from him, she never wanted to let go of his hand, and based on how tightly he was holding their fingers together, he felt the same way.

“You okay?” He whispered next to he ear when she adjusted in her seat for what felt like the millionth time. Riding in the hump of a one bench truck wasn’t nearly as fun as any of the teen movies she had seen made it out to be.

“Yeah, never better.” She said, a genuine smile falling across her face. And she meant that. Despite all of her discomfort, she didn’t think she had been filled with this much joy since their summer roadtrip. She could have been bleeding out from a bullet wound, but if she had Lucas by her side, she would be filled with nothing but joy.

“Me too.” He whispered again, squeezing her fingers gently, the soft smile on his face giving her butterflies. They had been together for over four years now and she still felt like a nervous seventh grader around him sometimes, and it was a feeling that she never would have traded for the world.

It didn’t take long for them to be pulling up in front of Pappy Joe’s ranch and Riley grinned at the familiar sight. Despite only having been here twice in her life, it felt like a home away from home to her. She felt safe and comfortable here, which is something she was missing in other aspects of her life, so she was going to soak up this feeling while it lasted.

Lucas’ hand never dropped from hers, even as he reached into the back of the truck to grab his and her bags, which much like his grandfather, he insisted on grabbing for her, and Riley was glad. She knew that the second he let go, she would miss him.

Slowly, they made their way up the stairs of the porch after his grandfather, who had quickly gone inside to see Sheila and make sure that she had enough food and water and hadn’t destroyed anything while he was gone, apparently she had recently gotten into the habit of chewing socks.

“I forgot how amazing it was here.” She said when they were on the porch, looking around at the setting sun, the pink and red tones that painted the sky. For a brief moment she wished that Maya was here, the sky reminding her of her best friend’s beautiful artwork.

“Even more so, now.” Lucas replied, a small smirk on his lips. She laughed, bumping him with her hip. “No seriously, I was excited about Thanksgiving, because I’ve missed Pappy Joe and my mom, but this just makes it even better, you being here.” He said sincerely, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her heart fluttered.

“Well, I’m happy I’m here.”

“I’m surprised you’re here though, mainly because I have no idea you were coming,” he laughs softly and she grins, leaning into him slightly, “and also because I can’t imagine your parents being ok with you being here instead of with them on a major family holiday.” She sighs softly, putting her head on his shoulder, and his arm immediately moved around her waist, not quite ready to let her go, which she completely understood.

“Trust me, you having no idea I was coming was all a part of my master plan.” He chuckles again, and she can feel his head shaking against her hair. “As for my parents, I gave a very solid and steady argument that you are just as much a part of my family as they are and I hadn’t seen you since August, whereas they got to see me a month ago. Not to mention that they’ve had 18 years of my Thanksgivings, they can afford missing me for one.”

While all of her words were spoken with nothing but truth behind them, those were all the arguments she had given her parents in her efforts to get them to say yes to her plans. She didn’t tell them, or anyone for that matter, that she had started to feel out of place.

That weird unsettling feeling that had first crawled into her heart the first time she had gone home for fall break, had yet to go away and she was afraid that it would have only become worse at Thanksgiving.

Lucas didn’t respond, instead tilting her chin up to kiss her gently, smiling against her lips. The crisp Texas air swirled around them and she felt a shiver run up her spin, but knew that it had nothing to do with the wind. Lucas had always had this effect on her and she guessed that it only increased due to their time apart, this is the first time they had kissed in months and she was surprised that she didn’t combust on the spot.

“Dinner’s on the table! Come get it while it’s hot!” Pappy Joe called from inside, promptly separating them and causing Riley to giggle.

Her heart was rising like a balloon, and she hoped to god it never popped.

…

Later that night, after devouring plenty of Pappy Joe’s chili, Riley hadn’t been that hungry, but she knew Pappy Joe wouldn’t take no for an answer, and didn’t want to worry either him or Lucas, her and Lucas are laying in his childhood bedroom, both silent in their contemplation of the day’s event.

Originally Pappy Joe had been weary about them staying together in Lucas’ room, but Grace was set to stay in the guest room, and it was just easier for Riley to start out in Lucas’ room with him.

“I’m really glad that you came.” Lucas whispers after a long while of silence. Riley’s head is laying against his chest, her ear pressed against his heart. It had been too long since she was able to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. She hadn’t realized how much she had truly missed it until now. Lucas’ fingers are lazily running through her hair and she’s never experienced quite as much peace as she does in this moment.

“I am too.” She mutters against his shirt, nuzzling her nose against his t-shirt. She smiles widely when she feels his lips press a kiss to the top of her head, and she tightens her grip on him, not wanting to let go, she never wants to let him go.

“I was kind of afraid for this Thanksgiving, I don’t know why, I think I just thought it might be awkward without my dad, and then me, my mom and Pappy Joe would just pretend that it was fine that he wasn’t here.” She can hear the apprehension in his voice, and she knows that despite all the progress he had made in the last year, opening up about this kind of stuff still was hard for him, even to her.

“Yeah, your grandpa mentioned something like that.” She doesn’t really know what else to say, she knows that he’s not exactly looking to be comforted, and listening is the best thing she can do right now. She presses a kiss to his t-shirt covered heart, and she can feel him smile against the top of her head.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not that big a deal, holidays have always been….” he pauses and she lifted her eyelids up to look at him, she can see him contemplating his next words, there’s a weird pain in his eyes that she hasn’t seen in awhile and she squeezes her grip on his torso slightly, “weird, maybe this year it will just be less weird because you’re here.” He finishes, a small smile falling upon his face and she looks at her, the pain in his eyes replaced with a much more familiar look that brings butterflies to her stomach.

She doesn’t reply, instead leaning up to kiss him, sighing as their lips press together. He deepens their kiss, adjusting her so she’s more on top of him, moving his hands to her hips, under the hem of her (his) sweatshirt. She giggles, pulling away from him and nuzzling their noses together.

“I love you.” He mutters, pushing some of her hair behind her ear and pressing his forehead against hers.

“I love you, too.”

And that’s enough for now.

…

Halfway into Thanksgiving, Riley finds herself sitting on the couch in Pappy Joe’s living room, Grace Friar sitting next to her, excitedly telling her about the new manuscript she was writing. She could vaguely hear Lucas and his grandfather speaking in the kitchen, but she couldn’t make out what exactly it was that they were talking about.

“So Riley, what about you? Lucas never tells me about you when we talk on the phone, my guess is that he’s trying to keep you all to himself.” Grace said, an easy smile falling up on her face. Riley clams up, she had been trying so hard to keep the conversation away from herself, when talking to everyone in the Friar family.

Yesterday, Pappy Joe had asked her about her classes while she was washing the dishes and he was making his breakfast for the next morning, and she had stumbled through a story about her English class, saying nothing about her failing grades and uncomfortable meetings with her professors.

It was even harder with Lucas, they had spent almost every second together since she had arrived and she had made a conscious effort to keep the conversation on him, constantly asking him about his friends and his classes. More than once he had asked her about something going on in her life, and she had forced a smile and a short, and simple answer that wouldn’t entice any more questions from him.

She could tell that he was getting confused, and concerned, she saw the hurt in his eyes when she avoided his questions and she knew that he probably assumed she was keeping something from him, which wasn’t a total lie. She just, didn’t think anything going on with her was important enough to dominate a conversation, and she wanted to hear all about his life.

“What about me? There’s not much to say about me.” She said with a small shrug, taking a small sip of the iced tea in her hand.

“What’s going on with you? How’s school going?” Grace asked, nudging Riley’s knee with her own. Riley opened her mouth to answer, before closing it. She had to tread lightly here, while there was a certain something about Grace Friar that made Riley want to open up to her, she knew that if she said too much, information could get back to Lucas and she didn’t want that to happen.

“School is alright, it’s freshman year so I’m still trying to find my passion. But it’s good.” She said, smiling tightly. She cleared her throat and brought her cup to her lips once more. Grace had a weird look on her face, like she could tell that Riley wasn’t telling her something, but she chose not to comment, instead standing from the couch and squeezing Riley’s shoulder as she did so.

“I’m glad Riley, I hope that you find your passion, you helped Lucas find his and you deserve to find yours.” She said with a grin, dropping her hand from her shoulder and entering the kitchen. She could hear her lightly tease Pappy Joe about how long dinner was taking and Lucas’ light laughter, which caused her smile softly.

However, there was a dull ache in her heart as she listened to the warmth and joy of the family in the next room, and despite knowing that she was welcome here. She still felt like she was intruding, she wasn’t a real member of this family, she wasn’t entangled in it’s threads, she was an outsider learning the ropes. This wasn’t her place yet.

She didn’t truly belong here and it was starting to feel like she didn’t belong anywhere.

…

“I don’t want you to go.” Lucas whined slightly against her hair as his arms tightened around her. She giggled, ignoring the feeling of dread in her stomach. Ignoring the weird loneliness she had felt on Thanksgiving, the last couple days had been everything that she needed but she feared for the emptiness that was waiting for her back in New York.

“I don’t want to go either, but I have to.” She said, pulling away so she could look at him. They were standing in the terminal of the airport, not wanting to separate until absolutely necessary. “Besides, we’ll be together again in a couple weeks when you come home for Christmas.”

Lucas nodded, looking at his feet for a second, causing Riley to panic. “You are still coming home for Christmas, right?”

“Yeah, of course I am.” Lucas said, nodding his head quickly and pulling her in for another hug. “These next couple weeks are just gonna be really hard. I don’t want to have to wait that long to see you again.” He muttered, taking a deep breath and nudging his nose against the skin of her neck.

“Well, we’ve survived this long haven’t we.” She gave him a tight smile, not wanting to show him how much this was actually hurting her, because he knew he would try and do something to make her feel better, when there was really nothing he could actually do.

“Yeah, I just know I’m gonna miss you.” He said simply, pulling away and pressing his lips against hers softly. Riley knew their time together was coming to an end, her flight was in an hour and she needed to go through security still, but she didn’t want to leave him. Not yet.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” She said, leaning her forehead against his, he smiled softly and the dull ache in her heart grew, even if her stomach was fluttering. “I have to go, my flight is soon and security is going to take a long time.”

She knew she had to pull away, if she didn’t she would never want to leave him. Taking a step away from him, she squeezed his hand, giving him a watery smile. She didn’t want to break down in front of him, she couldn’t.

Willing herself to turn away, she gave him one last wave before she fully turned her back to him, ignoring the searing pain in her heart as she did so. She didn’t have the energy push her tears away.

She went through the motions of getting her boarding pass and going through security, ignoring the weird looks from other people, nervously whispering about the girl crying to herself. The rest of the people in the terminal sat away from her, clearly uncomfortable with her puffy face. Riley hated herself for not being better at concealing her emotions, she hadn’t wanted to cry, not like this. Not here.

But she cried all the way back to New York, her heart not following her, stuck back in Texas.

…

The couple of weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas were bleak and grey and Riley didn’t even feel like she was inhabiting her own body as she went through the motions of her classes. She didn’t do much of leaving her room, just going to class and then returning to her humble abode and either sleeping or doing the minimal amount homework that she had to.

She had been making an effort since talking to Dr. Ryland to improve herself in economics, but unfortunately her other grades were suffering now too. She was sure that her English class was the only class that she was staying afloat in.

The worst part? She didn’t even care.

She had always wanted to do well in school, that had been something ingrained in her since she was old enough to get grades. Part of that was pressure from her parents, but a lot of it was her own pressure on herself to do well. To make her parents proud. To make her friends proud. To make her teachers proud. Now, she had none of that drive in her anymore.

She didn’t want to disappoint anyone, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to actually try any harder.

The two weeks between break and finals week were some of the hardest of Riley’s life. She was lonely, and the changing weather and the anticipation of the upcoming holiday weren’t making her feel any better. She was nervous to return home, the memory of the emptiness she had felt last time she was in the presence of her family still stung a little bit and she wasn’t sure if she was quite ready to face them all again.

But she also couldn’t bear to stay in this dorm room a second longer, it was like being in a prison, or a hospital, so bleak and cold. Despite all of her efforts to make it her own, pictures of her friends and family lining the walls, the sketch that Maya gifted her sitting right above her pillow, it still feels empty and unlived in.

She didn’t want to be in school, or at home. So where did she want to be? Where did she belong?

It was starting to feel like she might never figure that out.

…

Finals were a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it meant that she was finally done with her classes for the semester, no more supply and demand and dissections for her. But a curse because, that meant studying and taking exams on subjects that she had been stumbling through all semester.

The only saving grace was that it was only a couple more days before she would be reunited with all of her friends, it had been rough without them all semester and she was dying to see them again and maybe they would bring her that wholeness that she had been craving, and living without for the last four months.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a month.” Riley’s roommate, Hannah, droned from her side of the room as she watched Riley pack up her stuff. Riley had just completed her last final and was desperate to get out of this dorm room.

“Yeah, guess so.” She forced out a tight smile to her roommate, a weird silence following. Hannah and her had spoken maybe a total of ten words to each other all semester, Riley had almost forgotten what her voice sounded like. She knew that it was silly, to have hoped that her and her roommate would have become friends, but there’s a small sting knowing that these words are probably the most they’ve exchanged in one conversation all semester.

“Have a good break.” Hannah says, getting off of her bed and grabbing her jacket from the hook. “See you later.” And with a nod of her head, she departs their room, the irony of their last conversation of the semester peaking at three sentences, and being the longest they’ve had settling over the room once Hannah has left.

Riley decides not to focus on it too much, her lack of friendship with her roommate being the last thing she really wanted to think about. That and the biology exam that she no doubt bombed. Exams had been rough, she might have been able to pull out an ok grade in her math class. She had no worries about her English class, but biology and economics would be a waiting game to see whether or not she had made the grade.

Shaking all thoughts of school and Hannah and grades and every lousy thing and feeling she had had this past semester, Riley shoved the last of her stuff into her backpack, taking a quick scan of her room to see if she had forgotten anything. Once she had surmised that everything she needed was packed away in her bags, she grabbed her stuff and departed the room without a second glance.

Moving through the dorm hallways, she bit her lip slightly as she noticed a couple pairs of parents helping their kids move things from their dorm rooms, hugging and excitedly chatting about the holidays and how much fun they had had during their first semester of college.

It makes Riley think back to the text she had gotten from her mother the other day, asking her what time they could expect her, informing her that there might be no one home and she would have to let herself in with her key.

She knew it was silly, to expect her parents to come and get her when she could easily get on the subway and return home by herself, but it still hurt. She would never say anything to anyone about it though, she was oversensitive, a lot of things that made her sad wouldn’t cause anyone else any amount of distress. She was just being Riley after all, overdramatic about the smallest little things.

God, she couldn’t stand herself, sometimes.

The ride from NYU back to her apartment was shorter than she had remembered, unlike the last time she had returned home, she wasn’t filled with that same anticipation. She supposed that being filled with dread made time move much faster, dread wanted her suffer quickly rather than wait around.

Shuffling slowly up the stairs of her building, her stomach swirled and knotted with each step that she took to her front door. She didn’t even really know why she was dreading all of this so much, because of one measly feeling she had experienced over fall break? Her parents would probably be thrilled to see her and Auggie had never expressed anything other than delight at her presence, so she had nothing to worry about, right?

Sighing to herself as she reached the front door of her apartment, she could hear voices on the other side of the door, her mother’s crisp, clean laughter rippling through the air. Her stomach lurched, her heart speeding up in her chest. She was about to push the front door open when her phone dinged from her back pocket.

A real genuine smile overtook her features as she read the message on the screen, very few people had that kind of effect on her and right now, it was what she truly needed.

Lucas Friar ♥: My flight tomorrow is at 1, so I’ll be back in the city by tomorrow night. Hope all of your exams went well, I know you were worried about some of them. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Love you.

So, with those words in her heart, she takes a deep breath and crosses over the threshold, not quite sure what to expect on the other side.

[nickireadstfc]

The Foxhole Court, Chapter 8 – The Hangover: Neil Josten Edition

In which Neil has a hangover that could kill a man, attempts to actually kill a few men (read: the monsters), Wymack is still the best person alive, and Andreil engage in some Totally Straight Bro Time™.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Foxhole Court.

So, last chapter was a train wreck. I’ve had lots of you coming up to me trying to restore Andrew’s honour and telling me it wasn’t all his fault, but still. The monsters have lost some serious sympathy points in my books.

(I’ve also been told it gets worse, which, might I add, is not reassuring what the hell.)

Let’s get crackin’ and see if our boy Neil is still alive.

           As soon as Neil could breathe again, he twisted and shoved Nicky as hard as he could. He was too sick and weak to push Nicky off the other side of the bed, but the boots he was still wearing would leave bruises on Nicky’s arms and chest.

Alive and kicking, pun absolutely intended.

Also, GOOD. Hit that fucker.

My initial love for Nicky is going through a serious dilemma right now, by the way. On one hand, he’s still the comic relief, which I love, he’s funny and loud and a much-needed ray of sunshine in this otherwise pretty depressing monster squad. On the other hand, he does not seem to understand consent, which goes against every principle I have.

He might have to settle as the Problematic Fave. We’ll see.

           “Hey, hey,” Nicky said, trying to deflect him. “It’s fine. Ouch! Relax, will you?”

           “Don’t you fucking touch me,” Neil said savagely.

I have a strong feeling Neil says everything savagely. That’s like saying Andrew said something murderously, Seth said something angrily, or Renee said something gently and glitter rained down from the sky, the sun bursts through the clouds and angels sang of everything good in this world.

It’s like, duh, that’s how they function.

           “He’s awake?” someone asked from the door.

           Neil snatched the alarm clock up and hurled it at the new arrival, who ducked out of the way just in time.

Attempted Kill Count: II.

Aaron and Nicky try to make him feel better by offering him water and food, and carrying him since he can hardly stand due to his Massive Cracker Dust Hangover, an act of niceness that I am totally not buying.

You drug him and were planning to do God knows what with him if he hadn’t had himself knocked out in time, and now you’re trying to play good Samaritan? Y’all can exit stage left.

           “Drink up,” Nicky said. “You’ll need all the water you can get today. Crackers’ll dehydrate you like nobody’s business.”

           Neil answered by upending his glass on the floor.

           “That’s mature,” Aaron said.

           Neil threw the glass at him.

Attempted Kill Count: III. Neil is on a roll today.

Neil, smart runaway that he is, does not buy the monsters’ Samaritan act either and instead does what I’d advised Nicky and Aaron to do: Exit stage left, that is to say, he gets the fuck out of there.

As soon as he’s in the vicinity of a payphone, he calls Matt and the other not-entirely insane people on this team, which is pretty much the only sensible thing to do in this kind of fuckery.

           “I’m in Columbia with Andrew.“

           “You’re – what?” Matt went from half-asleep to wide awake in a heartbeat. The alarm in his voice only made Neil feel worse. “Jesus, Neil, what the hell did you do that for? Did he–“ Matt aborted that and asked again, “Are you all right?”

           “I’m fine,” Neil lied.

The fact that this is alarming news to Matt and the gang is fucking alarming news to me. Please don’t tell me this is what happened to Matt last year. Please.

Also, Neil “I’m fine” Josten strikes again.

I am instantly proven right as we find out that yes, this is exactly what happened to Matt last year. Poor Billie Joe. You just rose so much in my sympathy ranks. <3

Neil truck-hitchhikes home which we are skipping because it is, frankly, it’s not that interesting. However, as he gets home, it is time for my undisputed fave to appear again:

           Neil wasn’t quite ready to face Andrew yet and he didn’t want to deal with his teammates’ curiosity over his prolonged absence, so he went to Wymack’s apartment instead.

Clearly, Wymack is the solution to everything. Glad my boy Neil and I are on the same page here.

           “You should have called me,” Wymack said. “Me or Abby or any of the upperclassmen. All you had to do was say you didn’t want to stay with Andrew. Any of us would have come and gotten you.”

           Neil stared at him, to startled to respond.

Hello, and welcome to our popular show Neil Doesn’t Realize People Actually Care About Him, episode 1 of a billion.

Wymack apparently has some strong feelings about Andrew and Neil not killing each other entirely, which is why he calls down Andrew for some Quality Bro Time™ with his bf Neil – in typical Wymack-y manner.

           Neil heard [Wymack’s] furious voice loud and clear.

           “You have five seconds to get your retarded psycho ass to my apartment! You even think about telling me no and I swear to god I’ll throw Kevin’s contract down a garbage disposal.”

My dude, maybe think twice about using the R-word. Otherwise, what level of i c o n i c. #dicksoutforwymack

Andrew, miraculously, follows that kind invitation instantly, and this is where stuff gets good.

           “Have a nice stroll?” he asked, interrupting Wymack’s tirade.

           Neil returned his cold stare with a heated “Fuck you.”

           Wymack snapped his fingers in front of Andrew’s face, trying to get Andrew to look at him instead of Neil.

Tough luck, buddy, have fun prying those two apart. The fuckers even switch to goddamned German to have some private one-on-one time, ahem.

Pity Neil has to reveal his secret language superpowers so early in the game, though. I was waiting for the epic moment where Neil chimes into a Kevin/Andrew/Nicky conversation in fluent German just to deliver a savage burn.

           “How about I start with your parents?”

           “Good luck,” Neil said, feeling cold all over. “They’re dead.”

           “Did you kill them?”

           He said it so casually, like he was asking for the time, that Neil could only stare at him for a minute. (…) Then he remembered who he was talking to and asked, “Did you kill yours?”

What the fuck, you guys. How is this even a conversation they’re having. Who on earth just asks stuff like that.

           The twins didn’t know who their father was, and only Aaron grew up with their biological mother. Andrew was surrendered to foster care when he was just a few days old.

Oh. In hindsight, this explains why Andrew referred to their mother as “Aaron’s mother” before, but more importantly: What the fuck, why.

Who does that to a child, heck, who does that to a baby. Surely it’s gotta be healthier for twins to stay with each other? What the hell, Minyards.

Also, how did they pick which twin to keep and which one to give away? Like, “oh, this one looks much nicer, this one looks less like it wants to murder you as soon as you threaten its favourite rattle, better take this one and chuck the other one in the realms of Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind”.

What the actual why.

Did I say this was where stuff got good? We’re not done yet, ho boy. This is where stuff gets really good:

           “I didn’t kill my parents,” Neil said. (…) “Riko’s family did.”

OH SHIT OH SHIT HE’S TELLING HIM STUFF OH SHITTTTTTTTTTTT.

What follows may be the first real, pure, top-of-the-line Andreil scene we get to witness. Granted, Neil only gives Andrew the half-truth, leaving out some key details, but essentially, he pours his heart out in front of him. And I don’t only mean the whole factual side of things, but also stuff like “I’m too jealous of Kevin to stay away from him” and “He’s got you at his back telling him everything’s going to be okay” which I wish I’d made up as examples except those are actual quotes from the book.

And, might I add, not only is he confessing that stuff to one of his mortal enemies right now, he is also confessing that stuff for the first time ever to anyone at all.

I’m dead.

           Andrew reached up and forcibly uncurled Neil’s fingers from his mouth. He pushed Neil’s hand out of the way and stared Neil down with nothing between them. Neil didn’t understand the look on his face. There was no censure over Neil’s crooked parents or pity for their deaths, no triumph over having backed Neil into admitting so much, and no obvious scepticism for such an outlandish story. Whatever this look was, it was dark and intense enough to swallow Neil whole.

           “Let me stay,” Neil said quietly. “I’m not ready to give this up yet.”

Did I say I was dead? I just got fucking reanimated, lived a brief period of happiness, and died again.

WHAT LEVEL OF GAY SHIT. I know it gets even better later, [frieza voice] this isn’t even their final form, but I can’t help but be happy at the first glimpses of canon Andreil.

I am LIVING.

           Maybe Andrew’s night out in Columbia had been awful, and maybe he’d never want to say these things out loud, but having the air cleared between him and Andrew to some degree took an enormous weight of his chest.

Fsshgshsgdsjgjscjjs.

My sad baby boy Neil gets some peace and relief and breathing room I cannot believe.

           Andrew didn’t look at Wymack. “Neil wants to come with me.”

           A day ago, those words might have been an order or a threat, but today Neil heard only truth. He’d chosen the Foxes. He’d chosen to trust Andrew, whatever that meant and whatever consequences it brought down the road. There was no reason or need to hide behind Wymack now.

Are y’all seeing what I’m seeing………… are those…….. first traces of friendship and peace……….. w h a t

As much friendship and peace as you can get with the messed-up murder maniac, at least.

I’m so happy, you guys.

This does not make up for the problems of last chapter (especially my boy Nicky and I still have a bone to pick), but it makes me tentatively look towards an eventually positive future for our angry  babies.

           Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it.

Couldn’t have said it better.

[littlespoonevan]

I know you asked not to send you any prompts for the time being, but I saw this stardefiant(.)tumblr(.)com/post/157460338749/one-of-the-talented-writers-in-this-fandom-the and it made me think of you, because I love everything you write :) I just wanted you to see it, if you haven't already, in case it's something you'd be interested in!

aksjdfhjdksh oh god i couldn’t resist this one. i messed with canon a lil so even and sonja aren’t together and there’s a few references to other scenes but here you go!!! i hope u like it!!!

**edit: i forgot to mention the most important part, which is that isak is already out in this fic whoops lmao. 

prompt:the first scene of season three, but with even coming into the bathroom instead of emma……all i’m sayin’……….. (original post here courtesy of the lovely @stardefiant)

*

Isak lets his shoulders drop as he lazily exhales thesmoke from his mouth. He relaxes back against the tiled wall behind him andpasses their makeshift bong over to Mahdi, letting the boys’ conversation driftover his head. They’re talking about which first year girls they think are hotand Isak honestly couldn’t give a fuck.

One of the pros of finally coming out: he doesn’thave to involve himself in these kinds of conversations anymore.

“What about you, Isak?” Magnus asks abruptly, wagglinghis eyebrows when Isak looks over at him. “Any of those first year boys catchyour eye?”

One of the cons of finally coming out: Magnus triesto talk to him about boys.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Fuck off, Mags.”

“There was that guy whose locker is by yours!” Magnuscontinues, unfazed. “With the black hair? He was totally checking out your asson Friday.”

Isak pulls a face – he’d rather not have Magnus talkingabout his ass, no matter the context.

“Nei,” Mahdi disagrees. “Isak is way out of that guy’sleague. Who’s the guy we were talking to the other day, Jonas?”

“The one who couldn’t find his chemistry class?”Jonas snorts. “Forget it.”

That starts all three of them on a debate about whichpotential first year boys are up to Isak’s non-existent standards. Like before,Isak tunes out, only vaguely listening to the hum of their voices while hesnatches the bottle back off Jonas.

“Nei, nei!” Jonas says suddenly, cutting through thefaint buzzing sound of their conversation and effectively catching Isak’sattention. “I know who Isak could like.”

The gleaming smile is somewhat disconcerting and Isakfinds himself shrinking away from him and into Mahdi’s side. Jonas knows Isak’stastes too well, where is this going, oh fuck-

“Even,” Jonas announces proudly. “In 3STB.”

Magnus screws his face up in confusion. “Since whenis there an Even in 3STB?”

“He just transferred,” Jonas explains. “I met him theother day; apparently we have the same dealer. But he’s definitely your type,Issy.”

“Is that so?” Isak asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Yep!” Jonas insists, undeterred by his sceptical reaction. “He’s tall, blond-“

“You’re literally just describing me,” Isak snortsand Jonas smacks his shoulder.

“Taller than you,”Jonas says pointedly. “He’s got this whole James Dean vibe going for him. He seemedcool. Definitely the kind to make your jaw drop if you saw him.”

Isak doesn’t answer right away. The worst part is he thinkshe might know who Jonas is talking about. He’d seen him the other day when theywere in the cafeteria and accidentally made eye contact when the guy – Even,apparently – had caught him staring.

And yeah, Jonas hadn’t been exaggerating with the wholeJames Dean thing…

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says haughtilybecause he realises he’s paused for too long and he has to say something.

And then, because the universe fucking hates him, thebathroom door opens.

And who walks in?

Oh just 194cm of long limbs and blond hair twisted upin that fucking James Dean cinnamon swirl, with a denim jacket draped over atight white t-shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Isak hates his life.

Scratch that, Isak hates his friends.

Jonas starts nudging him, looking meaningfully atEven, who doesn’t seem to have realised they’re even in there as he closes thedoor behind himself and goes to the mirror – to inspect his hair, presumably.

He has a joint behind his ear and he lookseffortlessly cool and Isak hates him a little bit, suddenly self-conscious inhis Jesus t-shirt and snapback.

Jonas somehow manages to convey to Mahdi and Magnusthat this is in fact the Even he was talking about with just the use of hiseyebrows. Which would be fine except Magnus screams, “Oh fuck! That’s Even?”

If Isak was closer he’d punch him.

Even startles, spinning on his heel and mouthdropping open in a tiny “o” when his eyes land on each of them. (Isak thinkshis gaze lingers on him a little longer than the others but he can’t be sure.)

“Halla?” he says confusedly, a tiny wrinkle formingbetween his eyebrows and god, he’sgorgeous. Jonas wasn’t wrong.

“Hey man!” Jonas greets enthusiastically, taking offhis sunglasses and gesturing to his own face. “I’m Jonas, we met the other day?”

Even’s face lights up in recognition and he smiles. “Ofcourse! Hey.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence where Even rocks onhis heels, looking between each of them where they’re all clumsily shoved intothe bathtub. “So what are you guys up to?”

“Smoking,” Mahdi replies with a contented sigh. “Wanna join?”

Even grins and Isak wants to die. “Tempting. But I should probably get back out there.”

“Your girlfriend waiting for you?” Magnus askscasually except it’s Magnus. So it’s not casual at all. Made even more obviousby the fact he winks at Isak.

Judging by the look on Even’s face, he definitelysaw. Fuck.

“No. No girlfriend,” he replies amusedly.

“Boyfriend then?” Mahdi asks with just as muchunsubtlety as the blond dumbass sitting on Jonas’ left that Isak officiallydisowned about thirty seconds ago.

“No boyfriend either,” Even laughs. “Unfortunately.”

Magnus reaches behind Jonas to start shoving at Isak’sshoulder and Isak would very much like the ground to swallow him up now. Heknows what they’re all waiting for him to do. They’re waiting for him to turnon the charm and wrap Even around his little finger like he used to do withgirls. But the only reason Isak could dothat with girls is because he didn’t care. He wasn’t interested, it didn’tmatter.

But Even…oh man, he’s interested.

“Even, have you met my buddy Isak?” Jonas pipes upsuddenly and Isak is going to drownhis friends in this fucking bathtub.

Even’s gaze finally settles on him and Isak can feelthe heat rising in his cheeks.

“No, I don’t think I have,” he replies smoothly, eyesbriefly dragging down what he can see of Isak’s body before he smiles at himagain. Shit.

“You mind keeping him company while we uh- while we-“

“While we go see a man about a hoodie,” Mahdi cuts inwith the weirdest fucking excuse of all time.

What the fuck.

“Sure,” Even answers, raising his eyebrows as theother three immediately start to clamber out of the bathtub, leaving Isak defencelessand alone with a really hot olderboy. He can’t decide if he loves them or hates them.

“Ring me when you wanna leave, Isak!” Jonas callsover his shoulder, shoving Mahdi and Magnus out in front of him.

That doesn’t stop Isak from hearing Magnus sing, “You’ve got that James Dean, daydream, lookin your eyeeeeees…” as he trails out the door.

Jesus christ.

And suddenly they’re alone and the bathroom feels alot quieter than before.

Isak should probably get out of the tub.

Before he can, however, Even’s sauntering forward andplopping down beside him, long legs hanging over the ledge. “So, uh, Isak, wasit?” he asks nonchalantly, plucking the joint from behind his ear and pattingdown his pockets for a lighter.

“Mhm,” Isak hums vaguely, mind stuck on the way theirbodies are pressed together shoulder to hip.

“I’m Even. But it sounds like you already knew that.”His grin is teasing but Isak still feels mortified. It helps a little when Evengets the joint lit and immediately offers it to him.

Isak takes a hit, grateful to focus on something elsefor a second, before he passes it back to Even and feels his nerve-endingstingle as their fingers brush.

“So was I completely misreading the signals or wereyour friends trying to hook us up?”

Isak freezes, snapping his head to the side to seeEven’s head tilted back against the wall as he glances at him, amusementdancing behind his eyes.

“You didn’t misread it,” Isak says after a beat,mouth dry. He thinks those might be the first words he’s actually said to Evensince he showed up.

“Oh thank god,” Even huffs out a laugh. “I’ve beenlooking for an excuse to talk to you for weeks. That would’ve been embarrassing.”

Isak chokes on his inhale, coughing and splutteringas he stares at Even in disbelief. “What?”

“Couldn’t you tell?” Even asks, furrowing his brow. “Ithought you caught me staring the other day?”

“You werestaring?” Isak asks, bewildered. That’s absolutely not how he remembers it.

“Yeah. In the cafeteria,” Even replies unashamedly,picking the joint out from between Isak’s slack fingers. “You definitely lookedat me.”

“I know,” Isak answers quietly, swallowing hard. Even had been looking at him, Even had noticed him.

Even grins then, seeming to catch the implicationbehind Isak’s words.

“Well Isak,” Even says, handing the joint off to himwhile he digs in his pocket for something. He produces his phone a second laterand offers it to him. “I don’t really like the idea of this being a randomparty hookup so how about you give me your number now so I don’t forget to askyou later when you pull a Cinderella on me?”

There’s too many things in that sentence for Isak tofocus on – namely, I’m not gonna pull aCinderella? – but what ends up coming out of his mouth is. “But we haven’thooked up?”

He claps his mouth shut as soon as he says it but thedamage is done.

Except Even smiles at him then, different frombefore. It’s soft around the edges and he’s looking at Isak with something likeendearment before he’s leaning in and gently stealing a kiss.

It’s incredibly soft and in complete juxtaposition toeverything that’s happened so far tonight but Isak melts with it, body going pliantas he leans his shoulder more heavily against Even’s.

He doesn’t even consciously realise he’s leaning backin again until their noses are brushing and Even’s now lopsided quiff brusheshis forehead but Even stops him at the last minute with a hand on his shoulder.

“Phone number first. Kiss later.”

Isak bites his lip to hide his grin and plucks thephone out of Even’s hand, handing him the joint to dispose of. He types in his number,deliberating for a second before he puts the bathtub emoji after his name. Hedrops the phone in Even’s lap, looking at him expectantly and tilting his chin –a little in defiance, a lot in asilent request to be kissed.

Even beams like he can see right through him andducks back in to slot their lips together.

(The boys might find them still in the bathtub,heavily making out, a few hours later when it’s actually time to go home.)

(At 2am Isak gets a text from an unknown number thatsimply says, “Goodnight, Cinderella.”)

(He saves it as the bathtub emoji.)

*