#this should have been posted last week but when I finished the episode I realized that most of the panels hadn’t appeared yet…..
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sableeira · 2 years ago
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Mr. Perfect Crime
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dingodoodles · 9 days ago
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NEW FOOLS GOLD EPISODE IS OUT!!! WE DID IT!! HAZZAH! LIFE UPDATE I know my uploading schedule has slowly slowed down. As I’ve come to realize I’m a bit burnt out. I’ve been doing Fool’s Gold for almost 7 years now, STRAIGHT. I’ve only had 2 vacations and now it’s starting to bite me in the butt. I want to keep going but my brain and body need a bit of a break. I will be taking the rest of this year off to try and recharge. Along with in January- Feb, Felix and I are getting married! Meaning I have a lot to do to get that all planned. So expect ep. 37 to be a bit of a wait. I know it can be frustrating, but I do really appreciate all your patience with me and my process. I hope you all still enjoy things!
Kickstarter stuff: seems to be going well as I see lots of people getting their stuff. Canada, unfortunately was left last for the shipping services, meaning Canadians should start to be getting their rewards in the next two weeks. If you are at all missing anything or have some questions that need answered please email at: [email protected] and they will help sort things out for you!
The next episode of the Sands Podcast is going to be delayed probably by 1-2 days next week. This is due to posting ep.36 and needing a bit more time to finish off the editing of Ep.21.
We're gonna be at PAX U We'll be doing a signing at the Hit Point Press Booth. I will let you guys know as soon as I know where and when. Once again. Thank you all for supporting us and our many projects while also being SO GODAMN PATIENT with us :3
Love y'all <3
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stars444hearts · 6 months ago
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big reputation || 2
caitlin clark x actress! reader masterlist - prev - next warnings: none
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caitlin_clark22
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Liked by kate_martin03, yn_ln, and 820,508 others
caitlin_clark22 by the grace of whatever’s up there 🙏🙏🙏 Tagged: kate_martin03
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kate_martin03 caption’s tuff →caitlin_clark22 enough. 
user1 WAIT IS IT A NOD TO Y/N’S TWEET →user2 its def not they don’t even know each other →user3 NO Y/N LIKED THE POST
Y/n smiled as she read through Caitlin’s comments. After the eye-opening conversation she had with Kate last night, Y/n had become more open to the idea. 
She also thought the caption was cute. 
Y/n groaned as her stomach grumbled. She placed her phone on her bed, stood up, cracked her spine, and walked into her kitchen. 
Y/n decided to make something easy, then sit on her couch and binge-watch crappy reality tv. This was her first week off in months and she would spend it rotting in her living room like every normal 21-year-old. 
Y/n couldn’t tell you the number of below-deck episodes she had binge-watched, but by the time she finished, the sun was down and the crickets were chirping. She begrudgingly stalked back to her bedroom, changing into her pajamas and throwing herself down on her bed. 
She picked up her phone, only to drop it a second later in shock. 
[yn_ln]  Caitlin Clark                            4h ago sent you a message
Caitlin, on the other hand, was freaking out. She had never even spoken to Y/n before, but Kate had convinced her to DM her. 
Caitlin probably typed and retyped her DM 50 times before settling on a ‘hey !’
Caitlin groaned and shoved her phone down after finally hitting send. She couldn’t help but picking up her phone every ten seconds to see if Y/n had opened or responded to her DM. 
After 10 minutes, Caitlin had eventually given up hope of a response and sighed, turning off her phone and putting her head in her hands. 
Caitlin buisied herself by ordering doordash and sitting on her couch, rewatching film her coaches gave her to look over. She lost track of time and found herself mindlessly picking at her fingers, only coming to when she realized it was past midnight. ]
She groaned as she stood up from the couch, attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. Caitlin walked into her bedroom as she sat on her bed. She picked up her phone and almost threw it when she saw her most recent notification. 
[caitlin_clark22] Yn Ln                            20m ago sent you a message
— 
Caitlin  hey !
Y/n hey yourself sorry for leaving you on delivered i was binge-watching below deck
Caitlin which one?
Y/n mediterranean, duh
Caitlin good. That's the best one Yn liked this message
Y/n so, i’m assuming kate told  you to dm me?
Caitlin well, to be honest, i had kinda been wanting to ever since i met you on facetime with kate. 
Y/n brother that was 6 months ago 💀
Caitlin LEAVE ME ALONE, OK i'm just a girl
Y/n SO REAL whenever people tell me im doing  something wrong i get so annoyed  like im just a girl that curb shouldn’t have been there 😠
Caitlin LMFAOO Anyways, yeah, kate finally bullied me into texting my celebrity crush who she just  happens to be best friends with
Y/n 🤨🤨 is that all i am to you?? a pretty face?
Caitlin NO NO I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT I SWEAR
Y/n LMFAOO im just fucking with you anyways, going back to that… celebrity crush, you say? 🤨😏
Caitlin 😶 moving on…
Y/n no, no i wanna know
Caitlin umm… basically i’ve just been really obsessed with your show lately and kate told me i should shoot my shot but im now realizing maybe i should save that for the court
Y/n LMFAOO nah, kate was right she showed you my tweet, right?
Caitlin yeah, why?
Y/n because i wasn’t kidding. 
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joenotexotic99 · 2 years ago
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Hello! I just saw your Sub!Five post and I must say it's a masterpiece! Is there any possibility you can write some more? Us Doms are running on crumbs for Sub!Five lol.
A/n: I am soooo sorry this took so long love. My life as been a roller coaster these last few weeks and I have had so much writer's block. However I really do hope I have delivered some quality content <3
Five Hargreaves x F!reader
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Warnings: hard-ish Dom reader sub!five, language, smut, I was partially high while writing some of this (don't do drugs,) use of handcuffs and blindfold, hand job, unprotected sex (it won't harm her to wear some armor) oral sex f! Receiving. 
Summary: five didn't come home when he promised.
Word count: 1.5k
Five didn't come home on time.
Five promised you that he would be home by the time dinner was ready. Before he left earlier that day you explicitly remember him saying that's when he would get home.
And yet dinner has already been over with and done. You even cleaned up the table. Put away the leftovers, clean and washed the dishes. Putting them in the dishwasher. Cleaned and swept the kitchen. Took a shower and brushed your teeth. You put on your pajamas for the night. And now you sat on the couch re-watching an old show. Day turned night.
Still five was yet to return home. He lied. He lied to you. He could be anywhere right now, in any time period for that matter. But at this very moment he was supposed to be in your shared home. Now here you were, alone. You trust him enough to know how to handle himself and hold his own. Therefore he should know that actions have consequences.
As you stared at the TV mounted to your wall you heard the oh so familiar squeak of the front door opening followed by five setting down his briefcase and removing his shoes. 
Rounding the corner into the living room he immediately saw you under the soft light of the lamp with an expression on your face that was anything but joy. It took five a solid second to realize what he had done. Before he squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands over his face and through his hair.
"Shit I'm sorry"
You got up off the couch before slowly making your way to him. Talking as you walked.
"You're sorry?" You scoffed
"God yes I'm so sorry. Time slipped and I didn't reali-" 
"What time did you say you would get home?" You asked keeping your voice calm
"Before dinner" five said, keeping his head down
"That's right. Now you see dinner was at six thirty. And what time is it now?" You asked now infront of five
Five checked his wrist watch before continuing.
"Ten" five swallow the lump in his throat. Still staring down at his feet
"Look at me five." You said lifting up his head with your fingers "So you're admitting that you didn't do as promised?" You continued to ask
"Yes" five said quietly
"And what happens when you break the rules like this?" You already know the answer but hearing him say it is simply so so much better.
"I get punished" 
"Mhhmh, so you think that you deserved to get punished?" You asked. Making sure he consented.
"Yes" he said, voice still ever so quiet
"What was that?" you said, teasing him.
"yes I do think I deserved to be punished"
"Good, now I'm going I'm going to finish this episode and you are going to walk up to the bedroom and take off every clothing item off your body. And if you're good I might let you choose what punishment you think you deserve. Sounds good to you baby boy?" You explained, walking back to the couch and getting back cozy under the blanket you had.
Five nodded before making his way to the stairs and disappearing into the bedroom.
If you're honest you didn't pay much attention to the rest of the episode. Nonetheless you waited and waited. You even watched one more for good measure. And to your surprise you didn't hear one whine or complain from upstairs.
After a good solid forty-five minutes passed you dug for the remote to pause the show and turn off the TV. Removing the blanket and leisurely walking your way to the bedroom. You opened the door to see five in the middle of the bed leaning against the headboard.
As expected he didn't seem so pleased
"I don't think you just finished one episode"
You walk towards the closet to get out the old case file box that was now filled with things much more fun than files. You picked out a nice pair of handcuffs before pulling out a few different colors of blind folds. Before making your way to five.
"Doesn't feel nice waiting for longer than you have to, does it?"
Five lower his head down before mumbling a quiet "no"
You laid the silk blindfolds down next to five before looking up.
"I didn't hear a single complaint when I was downstairs. And because of that you can pick one of these blindfolds" 
Five surveyed over his choices before picking up his pick and handing it to you.
"Red, perfect" you said as you kissed his head. Putting away the rest of the blindfolds.
"Now do you think that you deserved to be cuffed?" You asked, turing back to five
Five nodded and hummed before you dug your guy's favorite pair. The cuffs were thick and smooth black leather that was held by a silver chain and extended to be able to clip to the headboard.
You took his wrist and slid his hands through the cuffs before tightening it snug.
"How does that feel my sweet boy?"
"good"
You hummed in response before lifting his hands up to clip it to the small hook you have on your bed frame.
You went to straddle his lap before taking his head in your hands and laying a sweet kiss to his lips. Leaning back you took the silk cloth and tied the blindfolds across five.
"Color?" You asked
"Green" five responded
"Wonderful"
You slid off of five's lap to remove the pajamas you had put on earlier whilst you waited for five to return home. Before situating back to where you were moments earlier.
You slowly creeped your hand down five's torso. Feeling the muscles of his abdomen move under your fingertips. You continued the descent down his body until you were met with the tip of his cock.
Slowly you took a light hold of it and ran your thumb over the slit spreding the pre cum. You watched five's Adam apple bob as he swallowed. You took your time moving your hand up and down his dick. Never moving your hand fast enough to make him finish. Instead five begged you to move your hand faster. Pleases rolled off his tongue. Each time you denied. Continuing your slow, agonizing pace.
Eventually your movements came to a halt. Depriving five of his already little amount of friction he was getting.
"Whycha stop?" Five said breathlessly
You didn't reply, instead you simply raised yourself up before sinking down onto his cock.
Five cried out from shock and pleasure. His hands fought against the handcuffs, wanting to touch you. Let you know that he was yours and yours only.
You weren't slow this time. You fucked him with an eager pace. Moaning out. You leaned down into fives neck. Kissing and biting. Making hickies that you knew five was going to beg later to have you cover up. 
You made your way with your mouth to his ear.
"You will not come until I say you can" you whispered.
All poor five could do was whine a pathetic 'ok' 
You continued your pace. Up and down. Taking your breasts into your hands. It made even better knowing how much five loved them You didn’t stop till way after you finished.
You didn't stop until you could see how much five was struggling to hold back and not finish without you telling him that he could.
"You think you've learned your lesson pretty boy?" You said while slowing down your pace
"Yes yes I have. I've learned my lesson." Five said on the brink of tears
"Will it happen again?"
"No it won't, I promise. Never" five stated
You picked up your previous pace. Fast and hard. It drove five wild. It was overwhelming delicious pleasure. Nothing short of filthy satisfaction.
"You can come five" you announced
And it was over. Five spilled into you. His mouth opened with no sound coming out. You let him ride his high. Stopping when you could tell it was becoming too much. 
You reached over to the bedside table to grab the key and get five out of the cuffs. Then you took off the blind fold.
It took five a second to adjust to the light before his eyes met yours. You took his wrist into your hand making sure he was alright.
"Thank you" he said out of breath.
You smiled before leaning down and giving him a peck on the lips. Then proceed to get off and lay next to where he was.
"Well you gonna clean me up?" You asked
Five chuckled before moving between your legs and diving down lapping up your arousal. The taste of both him and you on his tongue. He may have come home too late but at least his meal is delectable.
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vague-bisexual-crimes · 10 months ago
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hiiii I wrote this at midnight last night and edited it like five minutes after I woke up so please be nice and forgive any grammatical errors 🙏
Description: almost 3k words of post-hiatus, pre-relationship Jimmy and Lister, ft. pining and background Frances and Rowan.
Rated: G
TWs: canon-typical anxiety, brief mentions of alcohol and drinking
Without any further ado my first (bicci) fanfic ever!
sleepless nights (as long as they’re with you)
Somewhere between Lister almost dying, drunk and alone in a river some short ways from Pierro’s and the release of The Ark’s first post-hiatus album, Jimmy realized something. Jimmy realized that maybe, just maybe, Lister wasn’t just objectively attractive, but, in fact, Jimmy was attracted to him. Jimmy tries to think back to when they were younger, or even just a few years ago to try to figure out if the attraction is recent or had always been there. Either way, the romantic feelings began to develop a few months after they’d brought Lister home from the hospital.
Rowan is gone visiting his not-girlfriend Frances Janvier, so it’s just Jimmy and Lister in their new-ish apartment. It’s just outside London, close enough for them to be in London on short notice, far enough that they can breathe.
None of the three boys have technically dated during or after the hiatus, but Rowan has been talking to Frances Janvier for a few months, since they’d met at a movie premiere and she had no idea who The Ark was aside from “that’s a band, isn’t it?”, and Rowan was immediately enamored. Jimmy and Lister had placed bets on how soon Rowan and Frances would get together that same night.
It’s getting to be late for Jimmy and Lister. A few weeks into the hiatus they had all begun to put in a genuine effort to get a solid 8 hours of sleep a night, but tomorrow is a day off, and tonight they just don’t care.
The two of them are laying on Jimmy’s bed while Brooklyn 99 episodes auto-play in the background, although they haven’t been watching for some time now.
Lister is ranting about the book series he’s just finished, one that Jimmy read a few years ago and remembers very little of, but is content to listen to Lister tell him the entire plot, along with all of his opinions.
That said, Jimmy is finding it difficult to pay attention to what Lister was saying. Lister’s sitting next to him, wearing Jimmy’s well-loved Black Parade hoodie that Jimmy pulled up from the floor after Lister kept complaining about being cold, but not wanting to get up. Something that should be known about Lister is that whenever he speaks enthusiastically about something, his hands and his arms move a lot. Normally, this is fine and not really notable to Jimmy, however tonight, every time Lister raises an arm, Jimmy’s hair-too-small hoodies rises up and a sliver of Lister’s bare stomach becomes visible.
You would think that when Lister had been laying in his bed shirtless, Jimmy would have been distracted, but Lister had so rarely ever worn anything more than boxers that the sight no longer phased Jimmy. But Lister was in Jimmy’s bed, in Jimmy’s hoodie, and Jimmy was struggling to not stare at his stomach.
“—and I despise love triangles, they’re entirely unnecessary and frankly annoying, but somehow this book did it well?” Lister says, sounding mildly distressed at his own statement.
“Yeah, it’s not like an Edward and Jacob love triangle at all.” Jimmy replies before Lister is rushing off on an entirely different tangent about Twilight.
Blame the Twilight talk, but now Jimmy can’t help but notice Lister’s newest tattoo, a floral piece on the side of his neck. It looks pretty—Lister looks pretty.
Lister looks healthier than Jimmy thinks he’s ever seen him. He’d stopped drinking and was beginning to put on a bit of muscle. But it’s not only that, he has this look in his eye that Jimmy hasn’t seen since The Ark finished recording their first EP Kill It. Like he’s really happy.
Jimmy shakes his head to himself, tears his eyes away from Lister’s neck, and his eyes land on the long forgotten television.
He got over you years ago. Jimmy reminds himself. It would be cruel to do this to him years after the fact. Lister doesn’t deserve that, and Jimmy isn’t going to do that to him.
“—Jim-jam?” Lister’s voice breaks through his thoughts.
Jimmy turns his eyes back to Lister, who seems mildly amused as he takes in Jimmy’s expression.
“Were you listening?” Lister asks, not upset but genuinely inquiring.
“Sorry, I got caught up in my head.” Jimmy replies, which is not technically untrue.
“Are you alright?” Lister asks, his expression shifting just so slightly from amusement to worry, now.
“Yeah, yeah, go on, I’m listening now.” Jimmy coaxes Lister to keep talking and forget his concern.
“Are you sure? You looked upset?” Lister asks. A good and bad thing from The Ark all getting some therapy during the hiatus was that Lister was keen to communicate now. Which was good most of the time, and bad right now.
Jimmy doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Lister. At his Black Parade hoodie, the sleeves fitted where they should be baggy, Lister’s hands no longer moving, but tucked into its pocket. At Lister’s floral tattoo on the side of his neck that Jimmy has wanted to kiss since Lister came home and showed Jimmy and Rowan the piece in the middle of their kitchen while Rowan was making tea and Jimmy was sitting on the counter listening to Rowan go on and on about Frances.
Jimmy’s eyes finally slid up to look at Lister’s face. At the lips he kissed once, in a bathroom, years ago, when Lister had been drunk, and Jimmy didn’t feel that way about him. Where Lister had profusely apologized and begged Jimmy not to hate him. It was an absurd statement then, and it still was. How could Jimmy hate Allister Bird?
Jimmy’s eyes find Lister’s. Lister’s gaze is unwavering and kind. Sometimes Jimmy wonders what his relationship would be to Lister if The Ark hadn’t become what it did.
“Jimmy?”
Therapy also means that Jimmy has learned how to properly communicate. Still, that doesn’t mean he wants to.
Jimmy can feel the panic start to actually build in his chest, the real panic, lively and nauseous, not the thought spiral that Lister had seen moments prior.
It’s now or never. Jimmy seems to realize all at once. He can tell Lister how he feels, potentially ruining the closest relationship he has ever had, that isn’t Rowan or Pierro and Joan, potentially distancing himself from one of the two people in the world who actually know him and understand his life, potentially ruining everything that they had spent the past six months building back up for the band, the band which had managed to have wildly unprecedented success after what their management had considered a far-too-long hiatus.
Or he can tell Lister how he feels and Lister could feel the same way and they can live happily-ever-after.
The latter seems too good to be true.
Lister has always been too good for Jimmy. He always will be. Jimmy is a mess. Even now, when he’s at the best place he has ever been with his mental health and The Ark is doing better than it ever has, what with the new album doing even better than Joan of Arc had at release, Jimmy is still a mess.
But Lister is still looking at him like that. Looking at him like he cares.
“I’m okay, Lister.” Jimmy puts on a weak smile to combat the lumb in his throat. “Do y’want some tea?” Jimmy asks, already halfway out of bed.
“I can do it, watch Brooklyn 99.” Lister says, his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, gently coaxing him to sit back down.
“You didn’t want to get up—” Jimmy begins to protest.
“I don’t mind.” Lister says so simply that Jimmy nearly begins to cry.
Jimmy says a much-too-quiet “okay”, and Lister slips out into the hallway.
Jimmy tries for a brief moment to actually watch Brooklyn 99 and wait for Lister to get back so he can tell Jimmy about his books. It doesn’t work.
Jimmy sighs in frustration and puts his head between his knees like he can cure romantic feelings in the same way as motion sickness.
Lister either makes the quickest cup of tea known to man, or Jimmy doesn’t notice how long he’s been staring at his fitted sheet, his mind somewhere between a panic attack and a confession.
“Jimmy?” Jimmy wishes he would stop doing things to make his name sound so laced with concern every time it falls off Lister’s lips. “You alright?”
Jimmy sits up and quickly takes the cup of tea from Lister.
“You look like you're about to be sick.” Lister says. “Do you want me to hand you the bin?” Jimmy shakes his head. “Do y’want me to call Rowan?”
“Please, don’t.” Jimmy finally says. He takes a sip of tea if only to avoid this conversation for a moment longer. Chamomile vanilla. Jimmy’s favorite.
He looks up at Lister who’s still standing next to Jimmy’s bed watching him. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?” Lister says, and god there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice that Jimmy knows he didn’t intend to slip through.
“Of course,” Jimmy says, his voice more level than it’s been since the start of this evening. “I tell you everything.” Not necessarily true, but not a lie either. He tells Lister everything…except this.
Lister crawls over Jimmy to get to the other side of the bed, not spilling Jimmy’s tea by some miracle, and immediately wraps his arm around Jimmy. “I love you, you know that?” Lister says with his cheek pressed into Jimmy’s hair.
“I love you, too, Lister.” This doesn’t really feel like a lie. Jimmy, Rowan, and Lister had loved each other for as long as they’d been friends. They haven’t been so vocal about it until their early twenties, but that has never made it any less true.
Jimmy drinks his tea in silence, the only noise in the entire apartment being Jimmy’s TV, and the soft rhythm of Lister’s breath in his ear.
When Jimmy sets his mug on his bedside table, Lister asks, “Want to go to bed?”
It is properly late now and all of Jimmy’s panic has made him exhausted.
“Yeah,” Jimmy answers and Lister’s arm falls away from Jimmy and he begins to crawl out of bed.
Jimmy catches Lister’s arm, moving a bit too fast, and says. “You don’t need to get up. My bed’s big enough for both of us.”
“It’s okay,” Lister begins to slide his arm from Jimmy’s hand.
“Your bed isn’t even made and you’re already here.” Jimmy tries to shrug nonchalantly and sets the TV to turn off after an hour.
“Okay,” Lister says only a bit louder than a whisper.
Jimmy lays down and pulls the covers up and around him, pretending he isn’t aware of every move Lister makes as he sets his phone on the floor by the bed, takes off Jimmy’s Black Parade hoodie and crawls fully under the covers.
Jimmy wasn’t lying when he said his bed was big enough for both of them, there’s a solid foot of bed between them and they still have wiggle room on the other side.
It never takes Jimmy long to fall asleep whenever Lister is there.
***
Rowan comes home the next morning with the news that he’s officially going out with Frances Janvier and Lister slyly hands Jimmy a twenty under the table when Rowan isn’t looking.
“Is she gonna be coming ‘round then?” Jimmy asks between bites of cereal.
“She’ll be ‘round next week, but not for a while after that, she and Aled have some Universe City stuff to do.” Rowan replies.
“That’s great, Ro,” Lister says. “‘Bit jealous that you’re the first one of us to be in a relationship since the hiatus but still.”
Rowan rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t waver. Rowan and Lister’s relationship has massively improved over the past few years. Partially from Rowan learning that he doesn’t need to take care of Lister all the time, partially because Lister has learned to take care of himself.
“You could date anyone.” Rowan says.
“Of course I could, have you considered none of them are good enough for Allister Bird?” Lister replies instantly.
“Yes, that’s the problem,” Rowan says.
“I’m with Lister on this one, Rowan, how come you’re the one who always ends up in good, long-term relationships?” Jimmy says as he puts his empty bowl in the dishwasher.
“I dated Bliss for two years and I haven’t even been dating Frances for 24 hours.”
“That’s longer term than Jimmy and I for like five years running.” Lister points out.
“That’s a lie! I dated that guy for three weeks when I was 16.” Jimmy protests.
“Relationships from when you were 16 don’t count.” Lister shrugs as though it’s law. “And you can’t even remember his name, can you?”
Jimmy ignores the last part. “You’re counting Bliss!”
“Because they dated while Rowan was also 17 and 18.”
“Impeccable logic as always, Bird.” Rowan says with a pat on Lister’s shoulder. Lister grins smugly at Jimmy.
“Rowan agrees with me.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Rowan says and then they’re all laughing.
***
Frances comes round the week later to stay for two nights. Jimmy and Lister gleefully tease Rowan about having a girlfriend (although they maintain that they’re perfectly nice and civil to Frances, who is lovely), but eventually the novelty begins to wear off and Jimmy and Lister decide to leave Rowan and Frances alone and retreat to Jimmy’s bedroom.
Watching Brooklyn 99 in Jimmy’s room has become something of a routine of theirs lately. Some nights they watch a few episodes until they actually feel tired and Lister will go to his own room to sleep, other nights he sleeps in Jimmy’s room.
Jimmy prefers the nights where Lister sleeps in Jimmy’s room. He can always sleep when Lister is there, despite the background anxiety about his feelings for Lister, he feels safe with him.
Tonight neither of them are really watching the show, instead they’re scrolling through their respective personal social media accounts that the fans somehow have yet to find. It’s a content silence and Jimmy is perfectly happy to continue to watch Brooklyn 99 and scroll through his phone until he falls asleep, but then Lister says,
“Tell me to shut up if I’ve got the wrong idea, but,” Lister pauses and takes a breath. “you seemed genuinely very stressed about something the other night, and you don’t have to tell me, but you haven’t seemed that stressed in so long and I’m worried about you.” Lister looks at him.
Jimmy means to say more, but all that comes out is, “Lister…”
“You don’t have to tell me just…I’m here for you, for anything. I need you to know that.”
Jimmy opens his mouth to speak and closes it.
“Do you remember when you were drunk and you kissed me?” It’s not at all what Jimmy means to say and as soon as it’s out of his mouth he feels shit for bringing it up.
“I—yeah,” Lister looks embarrassed and slightly pained at the memory.
“And I told you, more or less, that I didn’t feel that way about you,” Jimmy continues slowly.
“Jimmy, you don’t have to reject me again. I got it the first time, haha.” It’s the saddest laugh Jimmy’s ever heard and for a moment his entire train of thought derails.
“What?” Jimmy asks.
“I didn’t think I was being that obvious. God, I’m sorry, Jimmy, you must’ve been so uncomfortable.” Lister explains and he looks like he might start crying.
“D’you still like me?” Jimmy’s voice is soft.
“It feels a bit juvenile to say it that way but…but yeah…” Lister thinks for a moment. “What’d’you mean, did you not know?” Jimmy can see Lister trying to work out what the hell is happening and coming up more confused than before.
“No, no, Lister…” the words are still stuck in his throat. It’s now or never.
Jimmy turns to properly face Lister and puts his hands on his cheeks, the tips of his fingers brush against Lister’s soft blond hair. Lister leans in slightly to the touch, but confusion dances across his face.
Slowly, with plenty of time for Lister to stop him, Jimmy leans in. He stops a breath from Lister’s lips and presses his forehead against Lister’s. Lister’s hands come up to rest on Jimmy’s biceps, his breath quickens and seemingly against his will, his eyes flutter shut.
“Can I kiss you?” Jimmy whispers.
“God, please,” Lister whispers and then Jimmy’s lips meet Lister’s and this time it feels right.
Lister’s hands move from Jimmy’s arms to his waist, pulling him gently so that he’s sat in Lister’s lap. Jimmy’s thumbs stroke Lister’s cheeks as they kiss, every anxiety he’d had about telling Lister how he felt washing away with each brush of his lips against Lister’s.
After a moment their lips part from the other’s and Jimmy presses his forehead to Lister’s again as they breathe.
“That’s what you were having anxiety about?” Lister whispers, his breath fanning across Jimmy’s face.
Jimmy nods and slides his arms around Lister’s neck to rest on his shoulders.
Lister kisses him, once, chaste, before burying his face in the crook of Jimmy’s neck. Lister’s arms tighten around Jimmy’s waist and they hold each other for god-knows how long before they hear Frances and Rowan laughing at something in the living room.
They pull back just enough to see each other’s faces. Jimmy runs his fingers through Lister’s hair, pushing it out of his eyes and then kisses him.
“Stay with me tonight?” Jimmy asks.
“Always.” Lister replies and kisses him again.
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anonymoushouseplantfan · 2 years ago
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Meghan and Harry: Episode 1
Why?
Seriously, why?
Bet let’s start at the beginning. I live-blogged the documentary on my Notes app. I wasn’t originally going to post it because I’ve stopped blogging, but omg, this is truly, as Scobie would say, the endgame. Of course, it’s not the monarchy losing the game. It’s the Harkles, They’ve checkmated themselves.
This was a six-hour own goal. I knew it was going to end badly for them when I saw Sunshine Sachs dropped them. Without SS astroturfing positive coverage all over the place they were doomed anyway.  However, the content of the documentary takes it beyond doom and into truly apocalyptic. I bet it has great ratings. It’s a complete train wreck.
[Edited after first liveblog: Netflix is calling it the most viewed documentary ever, but that’s misleading. It barely held on to The Crown’s audience which was its base number, and I doubt it will have the same staying power. Still, not a bad The Crown companion piece for Netflix.]
But let’s break it down.
Episode 1
Starting with shots in an airport lounge and a rented house looking like absolute crap is the weirdest branding idea I’ve ever heard of. They don’t look relatable. They look pathetic.
[I’m editing this after finishing their series and this opening is even more baffling now. Episode 5 covers their last week of royal engagements. First, that segment is a lot more glamorous and exciting than these sad-sack iPhone videos and they really should have opened with that. Second, Episode 5 shows they were elated and super excited after finishing those engagements. They loved the crowd reactions and the press coverage and were over-the-moon with happiness. These videos are supposedly shot after that and they are all sad and mopey and wondering “how they got here.” It’s a huge disconnect.]
The intro music screams “cheap YouTube production.” So does the stock photo montage. Oh, now it’s home movies…why? This resembles the video tab of a super-basic Facebook couple circa 2014. Netflix paid millions for this? I don’t think they got paid $100m, but I bet Netflix shelled out a tenth of that. They still overpaid.
[Actually, maybe they didn’t. The Crown cost $13 million per episode and they likely paid $10 mil for six episodes of Harry and Meghan which got the same audience.]
Now they are in a house (theirs? Victoria Jackson’s? Oprah’s?) that looks like a Restoration Hardware showroom and they look slightly less pathetic but also like they are in couples’ therapy. Oh, she did know who he was. What a shocker. Dimwit doesn’t seem to realize the implications. I wonder if the filmmaker is secretly mocking them.
[The house is a random rental that is now for sale so I wonder if they get a sales commission for the product placement. https://www.forbes.com/sites/emmareynolds/2022/12/20/montecito-home-where-prince-harry-and-meghan-markle-filmed-documentary-lists-for-335-million/?sh=3285e16b74fa]
My husband is watching with me. He was very confused by Meghan’s comment about how “when the stakes are so high” it makes sense to get the story from them. He doesn’t understand why the stakes are high. I told her Meghan is a narcissist and he didn’t believe me. He used to watch her on Suits and despite my best efforts still thinks she’s Rachel Zane. Anyway, he thinks the house looks like an expensive rehab clinic and now I can’t get that out of my mind. I think they are trying to look like the happy couples in When Harry Met Sally but it does feel like luxury drug rehab therapy full of Restoration Hardware furniture. He also asked me what was going on with Harry’s pupils in the airport lounge video. He thought that was weird. I tell him it's cocaine, but he thinks it's Xanax or something like that.
Montage. “They are destroying us.” “This has always been bigger than us.” Oh, please.
Montecito sunset. I guess this is their backyard? It looked better in the real estate photos. Meghan croons “isn’t it beautiful?” and Archie agrees. All I can think of is that these idiots used to live in freaking Windsor Park and now they have my grandma’s yard (complete with chicken coop and everything).
Walking with Archie. Harry mutters “this is a great love story” while pushing an empty newborn stroller (why? Where’s the baby? Is Meghan carrying the baby?). This is surreal. 
Glamorous wedding shot (a melancholic reminder of past glories, frankly) and it turns into a closeup of Harry’s legs. Eew.
Meghan goes to the chicken coop. There’s a lot of cyclone fencing in this house. 
Back to the Restoration Hardware Showroom. Meghan is in sweats because…I don’t know. Weird Instagram family pics including a sad little birthday party for Archie. Good lord, my kids had better parties than the King’s grandson. This is so pathetic. 
Oh, no. She got the cheap Amazon patio furniture protectors. At least they match the cyclone fencing. 
More family Instagram. They are protecting their kids…by putting them in a documentary?
Did I just see Harry’s underwear??!! Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Between the sale of family pics, the family drama, and the plumber’s crack, I’m starting to feel that Meghan married her dad.
Harry talks about consent with regards to his children…but they are too young to consent so it doesn’t really makes sense. Guess he thinks it’s only his consent that matters.
My husband asks if Harry is an addict. I suspect it’s partly his demeanor and partly the inconsistencies in the narrative. Meghan said she’d prefer Prince Harry, and that showed how little she knew about the royals? Media exposure requires consent, but your kids are in a documentary? Harry doesn’t seem to realize that these things make no sense.
I feel the way they structured these confessionals with an invisible interviewer was a big mistake. Oprah’s presence during that interview served to validate their shady claims. She has a lot of credibility so when she nodded and smiled people trusted that. It made their statements credible. Here they don’t have that and all the contradictions are apparent.
They’re in the yard. Meghan is trying to channel Martha Stewart and failing. Martha wouldn’t have cyclone fencing, Megs.
Meghan in sweats in the Restoration Hardware showroom. BIG expensive drug rehab vibes. I bet this is what all the rich women wear at the Betty Ford Clinic. She complains that other people write books about them and “wouldn’t it make sense to hear our story from us?” Actually, Megs it’s becoming painfully clear that the tabloids and royal biographers have made you two look a lot more interesting, glamorous and stylish than you really are. Left to your own devices you two are boring as dry toast.
Really cool shots of London. Whoa, the city looks great! They spent money on these. They probably should have spent that cash making California look good. London is their past and California is their future and so far their past looks a lot cooler and more glamorous than their future.
Tig Instagram pic montage. I wonder who was taking these? She should have rehired the photographer because the family pics she has now are terrible. These were much better. Her Tig life feels a lot more upscale and aspirational than her current Montecito existence which goes to show what good photography can do. LOL, she used the airport with the Ghurka suitcase. Yes, she didn’t know she was going to meet a prince and that’s why she traded in her Rowena for the luggage brand the princes are known to use.
Pics from what appears to be Harry’s private Instagram. Interesting—wait, the Insta rumor was real? What the? Good lord why would you admit that in a documentary???!! This is freaking surreal. Whyyyyy?”
[To those who don’t know. There was a rumor back in 2016 that Meghan was a designated Soho House “companion” and the girls were “advertised” through a private Insta account run by Marcus. If you liked a girl you could DM Marcus and get an introduction…which seems to be exactly what Harry did. I don’t understand why they would mention this in a a documentary. Everyone bought the Violet von Westerwhatever blind date story. They should have stuck to that.]
I wonder how the mainstream audience is reacting to the new instagram story. The original story got a lot of coverage and a critical mass of people may start to wonder what the heck is going on. Even my husband is skeptical and I don’t think he knew the blind date story. 
BTW, the fact that she was following his account was known in Toronto as soon as the relationship story broke. Interesting.
“Friend” talking about Wimbledon. She’s actually Serena Williams agent so I’m not sure why she’s labeled as a friend. Wimbledon, blah, blah, blah. Lol, Again, Meghan’s old life appears a heck of a lot more glamorous than her current one. OMG, she told Serena’s agent she was going on a date with Harry??!! She was telling everyone wasn’t she?
Texting. She was posting all of this to Insta as it was happening which is absolutely hilarious. Actually, this whole documentary reminds of the early days of the relationship when she was posting everything on Insta and leaking stories to US Weekly constantly. They really wanted all of this material out there and waiting until they got paid for it probably took probably took enormous self discipline. Guess they took Doria's "don't give the milk away for free" advice to heart.
I just realized she’s wearing Trevor’s Cartier bracelet during her monologues and that cracks me up. 
More cheap stock footage. Seriously, how much did Netflix pay for this? Endless chat about their first date, which is nowhere near as interesting as they seem to think it is. They should have stuck to the blind date story. It was slightly more interesting. Bad Soho House selfie. 
Nacho shows up as a “friend” and he’s really Harry’s promo buddy. The Silver Tree person was also a Suits director. Everyone is a business contact in this documentary. All these white people in California resort wear are giving me White Lotus Season 3 vibes. 
Baseball hat pics in a messy kitchen…these two are hellbent on shedding whatever royal glamour they had left. Wait, isn’t this an old picture from Toronto? Like real old, first year in Toronto kind of old. What a weird choice.
“Marry someone who fits the mould instead of someone you are destined to be with” followed by a pic of Megs trying to look sexy in a wifebeater shirt. Does the director secretly hate them? He was born in a palace but he had a trailer park heart…she was a tacky actress from the wrong side of the tracks…they were destined to be together selling family pics to the tabloids just like dad…it’s a family traditioooooooon….
Old royal footage…Diana…Charles…childhood photocalls, which Harry seems to resent, but he’s doing the same to his kids in this documentary, so I really don’t understand what he’s thinking. The Diana footage is a big misstep because wow Di was charismatic and these two losers can’t hold a candle to her. 
Thirteen whole minutes of archival footage, most of it stuff his parents “consented” to, and lots of whining about press intrusion. Dude, you’re in a reality show. You’re putting your kids on television. Know where you stand.
Then a slew of private couple pics that they really should have kept private. Love the wallpaper. Bet that was Frogmore. The documentary is rather disorienting. I can’t tell what house they are in or when the pictures were taken.  
Boom. “So much of what Meghan is and how she is is so similar to my mom.” My husband actually rewinds this part to make sure he heard right. Pic of Diana with her kids in the garden and then another pic of Meghan with her kids in the garden. Very similar gardens. Not so similar women.
“He wanted to marry his mom?” my husband asks. 
Cringe video of Archie with a Diana photo. “I didn’t want history to repeat itself,” Harry says.
“He did want to marry his mom,” my husband says, amazed. “So he can save her this time.” Shaking his head. “This is nuts but it’s television gold. Did the brother marry his mummy too?”
“No,” I said. 
“And the brother is the one who gets to be king, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good.”
More monologue about their courtship. Lol, they really did leak the handholding painting to the press. Footage comparing Megs to Di and it’s painfully obvious she’s nowhere near as charismatic. 
Diana’s death and more archival footage. This documentary is a humongous downer, isn’t it? Childhood friend of Harry’s I’d never heard about. Was he invited to the wedding? I don't think so. Strong White Lotus vibes coming from this guy.
Diana’s funeral. Harry’s drug scandal. Hellraiser Harry. Bitching about paparazzi. No mention of Vegas, which is weird. You’d think that would be the big traumatic story about media intrusion. I guess he only wants to blame the UK media and Vegas was a TMZ story in the states and the UK media wasn’t allowed to print the pictures so it doesn't fit his narrative.
More whining about royal photocalls…except for the Lesotho photo ops which Harry didn’t seem to mind. Bit of a disconnect there because those were royal pr as well. In fact, it was the way the royals rehabilitated his image after the drug scandal. Seems like Harry only hates the royal pr he can’t personally monetize. Why isn’t Sentenbale getting a shout out? You’d think he would plug the charity here (Audi, Soho House, and JP Morgan got very obvious brand placements) but if he did I missed it. [Edited: Should have added the house to the list of product placements]
LOL, Prince Seesio straight out says that the Lesotho vacation was a response to the bad press in the UK. They should have briefed him better. I don’t think he was supposed to say that.
Botswana vacay with Meghan. Wow, the Daily Mail made this look a lot more glamorous than it actually was. This wasn’t exactly glamping, was it? Were there showers? No, best to not go there. No charities are mentioned. No mention of the “love” bracelets, just a Daily Mail article shot.
More whining about press intrusion then private Halloween pics that really should have stayed private. Lol, they went to a party with Eugenie after the relationship was leaked. Tell me you leaked the relationship without telling me you leaked the relationship. I bet Meghan wanted to post this on her Insta and Jason didn’t let her. I wish they’d let her. The press reaction to the Call of Duty costume would have been epic.
Harry doesn’t seem to be catching on. If you were in disguise and no one knew you went to this party except Meghan, Jack and Eugenie, then who exactly leaked it, Harry? Because we knew about it a day later.
That’s a Toronto newspaper, the same one that had the leak about Meghan following Harry’s private account. At the time the evil British tabloids were actually under the impression Harry was still in England and had cancelled a trip to visit Toronto.
The other outlet who got the scoop early was our old friend US Weekly, and the byline was by a then-unknown gossip hack called Omid Scobie. Given what we know now about their relationship with Scobie. Yep, I think these two just confessed to leaking stories about their own relationship.
The DM had to quote the Toronto paper and US Weekly when they finally broke the story on the other side of the pond.
Interesting that Meghan and Harry’s “new and improved super real love story” is the one that was being leaked in Toronto and not the one that the evil UK tabloids had supposedly uncovered through nefarious means. I don’t understand why they are changing the story, though. The blind date wasn’t a tabloid rumor. It’s what they themselves said during a BBC interview. 
End of episode. Overall, I feel this was a huge missed opportunity. Not much about his work in Africa or her UN/One Young World work. We hear about Harry’s photography but barely see it. It’s their chance to tell their story and their story is “we’re boring and tacky people who sell pics of their kids.” I feel they really wanted to put the “real” story of how they met out there—the IG dog pic, the Call of Duty costume, the crappy Soho House selfie. It reminds me of her old Working Actress blog where she was constantly stressing how unglamorous acting life really was. 
I’m not blown away by the quality either. Their home movies feel cheap and curiously inauthentic. They should have run everything through a filter to make it feel coherent and cohesive. The stock/archival footage is sometimes great (London and the royal family), sometimes cheap (Soho House), sometimes missing (California), and sometimes misleading (pap shots of Chelsy, Cressida and Kate that are narrated as though Meghan was the victim). 
The documentary lacks the authoritative tone most documentaries have. You really feel it’s “their” side of the story and not the “real” story. I think the problem is how they switch from the couples’ personal narrative, confessionals, and personal pics into historical pictures and public royal narratives. The institutional credibility of the royal shots makes the personal material feel biased and unreliable. The videos of Charles and the kids interacting with photographers, in particular are massive own goals because they remind the viewers that everything, including Meghan and Harry’s pictures and videos, includes invisible photographers. It’s just that the Harkles are hiding that from us, whereas the royals are upfront about it. The confessionals in the rehab setting, in particular, were huge mistakes, imo. They feel like reality show confessionals (like the ones the Housewives franchise uses) and viewers are trained to see those as unreliable narrations. Using someone else's house was also a bad idea. It feels fake.
The whole thing feels very chaotic and unconvincing. My husband thinks they are both addicts and I remember thinking that when they first started doing their beanie hat appearances. I ask him why and he cites the dilated pupils, contradictory narratives, family resentments and couch-surfing at other people’s housing. He says it’s standard junkie drama.
Other family members are watching and most of the group chat (lawyers and social workers) reaches the same conclusion: even the royals have junkie kid drama. The social worker says she has tons of clients like Meghan and the all sound the same. “They’re trying to destroy us.” “It’s a great love story.” “I don’t know how we ended up here.” “What happened.” They are all more interested in having their side of the story validated than in actually fixing the problem and they just repeat the same family dynamics over and over again. That’s why Harry is showing us pics of his kids in the house/garden/vacation right after complaining that his parents showed the world pictures of him, his bother, and his cousins in the house/garden/vacation.  She noticed that he posted a pic of himself in military gear (the Halloween pic) as an adult and a similar one of himself a kid. He also posted skiing pics with the royals and then similar pics in the sand in California. She’s says he’s basically re-living his childhood and trying to get it right this time. 
I didn’t expect many people in my family would be interested in this, but they are all having fun psychoanalyzing these two. Everyone thinks this is Harry rewriting his past so he gets to save his mum this time. Meghan’s motivations are less clear. No one believes she didn’t know who he was. The psychologist says it’s weird that Meghan’s side of the love story was just “it was exciting…we just got to know each other….” Her motivation is not that clear, although there was that one story about wanting to be protected from the elephants in the tent. Opinion is split with half the chat thinking she wanted to be rescued by Prince Charming and the other half (the psychologists and social workers) thinking that as an actress her fantasy would be A Star is Born. The psychologist says those two are not that different. In the Prince Charming fantasy you get rescued by an individual and in the Star is Born fantasy you are rescued by an institution, i.e., the studio or Hollywood. She thinks her fantasy was A Star is Born and that’s why she’s so resentful now. I think we’d discussed that in the blog before. Interesting to hear someone else saying it. Meghan didn’t want a love story where she was rescued by Harry, she wanted a Hollywood success story where she was acclaimed as a star by the palace. She didn’t get that and that’s why she’s still upset even though she got the Prince Charming love story. That’s not what she wanted. Harry got the fantasy he wanted, so he’s not as upset. 
Not much support for the theory (mine) that she was manipulating him consciously. Everyone seems to think it’s a case of two mental illnesses falling in love, along with junkie drama. That’s why Harry is so amazed at their “fantastic love story.” He wanted to marry his mum and she wanted to be his mum. That’s a pretty unlikely combination. 
I’m very curious about the “friends” featured in this episode. No Jess, no Markus, no Misha Nonoo, no one from the Suits cast except Abigail Spencer, and no Janina. Everyone seems to be a business partner of some sort. Cory was missing also, but it makes sense that she wouldn’t mention him. Reitman’s wasn’t mentioned either but I guess she doesn’t want to give them press.
I don’t understand why they didn’t lean into the charity work angle. She was doing One Young World and he was working Africa. Her "You can be Both" essay wasn't mentioned either and I feel they should have led with that instead of going with her “single girl trip” and the not-so-glam Botswana vacation. I also don’t understand why we didn’t see more of Harry’s supposedly amazing wildlife photography. After all, they are trying to build a career as documentary producers. You’d think that would be relevant. The big takeaways from this episode are: Meghan is mummy and I saw history repeating itself so I had to save her. “Save Mummy” seems like a weird narrative to craft a brand around, but my husband is right. It’s television gold.
On to the next episode.
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legitalicat · 10 months ago
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Out of Time
Chapter 6 - "I'll Beg You Nice from my Knees"
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AN: I am so sorry this took so long, I have had some medical testing done and had some health episodes so I couldn't dedicate as much time as I wanted to with this chapter. I hope you like it! This dedication has been removed. Also the title is a line from "All I Wanted" by Paramore cause that song went through my mind a lot during this chapter. In another life, reader would be with Erryk.
If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!
Please feel free to leave any thoughts below! Definitely not required but so appreciated.
Find the series masterlist here!
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Summary: Three weeks. That is how long it took Y/N to get any of the men back in her company after the horrific dinner. She didn't spend the entire time angry, though. She just didn't understand what she did to make them avoid her. All she wanted was to have them.
TW: A lot of reflection on the Driftmark incident, a lot of anger, vaginal fingering, mentions of substance use, mentions of violence, angst, talks of injury, character death of sorts but in the past and not anyone major, profanity, Aemond being dirty af
Relationship: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, talks of Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Reader, talks of Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen (not explicit but realized it's a thing)
Word Count: 4.8k
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Mother and Alicent had come to help escort me back to my room after the dinner. Ser Erryk provided the physical support I needed while they were providing me some emotional. It was nice to be with them and not be expected to say anything about the dinner.
Time began to pass in a blur in a way that made me unable to distinguish the days from one another. I was aware of Mother and Alicent both agreeing, given how hurt I still was, that the homecoming feast should wait a few weeks. It was fine with me, as I did not want to even have a feast to begin with. The mornings were spent in the dragon pit with the children.
The five of them loved that I went with them. The keepers helped me to bring Vhaela out so that the two of us could get reacquainted while the kids learned with an adult dragon. It was always nice to spend time with her. Feeding her was one of my favorite things. She was so proud of herself when she blew fire to cook the meat provided she always looked to me for approval.
And in the evenings, I soothed my aches with a warm bath and biscuit. That part was nice too. Something about feeling the water wash over me as the fuzziness took over my brain allowed me to truly relax.
Well, as relaxed as I could be when neither of the men that declared my hand was theirs came to speak with me. At first, I would’ve only accepted them talking to me to apology for making a scene. Aemond and Jacaerys truly could not get past the stupid competition they alone create, and that had caused such a fuss so many times.
Then morning came and I just hoped one of them would at least come to check on me. Hours passed by that day and still neither came to find me. Even after sending my new handmaid, a young girl named Elayna Tyrell, to bring them to me, they did not come. Why were they avoiding me?
Though what made less sense was how Aegon avoided me. Correction. How he avoided me during my conscious hours was what didn’t make sense. I could tell by the way my pillow smelled of him that he would lay beside me as I slept. Knowing him he probably held me.
After it became several days without sight of any of them, I began to deflate. And then it became nearly three weeks. What did I do wrong?
Mother and Alicent were with me as the Maester were doing their daily examination. It was how I started most of my days. Mother and Alicent would bring breakfast to me and they sat with me until the exam was finished.
“Any pain the last few days?” he asked as he ran his fingers along my ribs.
“No. I have not needed to use the biscuits for physical pain, only at night to ease me to sleep,” I said to him. It no longer felt painful or inconvenient to move. My busted lip had healed. Finally I felt like myself.
“Any memories or visions further than what we’ve discussed?” he asked me quietly, so low that Mother and Alicent would not hear.
That was a more complicated matter. Every night I dreamt of being in complete darkness, only for the small red vial to turn up and be the only light source. I would walk towards it. Hours could pass and I would only be just approaching it, when a woman would appear just as it had.
This woman was devastatingly beautiful. Her hair and eyes looked to be made of flames, contrasting greatly against her pale skin. If one could imagine the ideal woman’s body, I believe they would imagine this woman. Full breasts yet an otherwise slender figure, the way any man preferred his whores. She constantly wore robes that matched the red of her hair and eyes. And around her neck laid a golden choker embedded with rubies.
This was not a woman I had memory of ever seeing. Believe me when I say she was so beautiful I know I would remember her. Her haunting my dreams every night was enough to make me certain of that.
None of that was new. What was, however, was her speaking. She would reach out, taking the vial in her hand, only to offer it to me while saying the words, “Gūrogon bisa skori ao jaelagon naejot sagon lenton.” It was Valyrian, and roughly translated to, “Take this when you want to go home.”
Only telling the Maester of this woman felt the best way to go about it. If Mother knew, she would tear the whole Kingdom brick from brick until she found this woman. I could not predict anyone else’s response nor did I really want to think about it.
“Nothing I am certain of,” I responded, which only garnered a nod.
He stepped away from my body and turned to Mother. “She is as healed as she can be. The damage done to her bones may always be there. You can feel an indent in the fifth and sixth ribs, where I suspect the bones ended together.”
“That will not affect her further?” Alicent asked him, speaking for Mother.
My jaw tightened. While I was not entirely sure what was going on between them, I was not a huge fan. Alicent speaking for Mother, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, as though she still had any right. How was it fair or possible that Alicent got to sit at the side of the Iron Throne for so long?
“No, Your Grace,” he said to Alicent before turning to look to me. “Though I would recommend caution. Bones once broken could be easier to break.”
“Luckily I have no plans of being further beaten or tortured,” I muttered, earning a sharp look from Mother. “Sorry.”
I thought it was hilarious. Though I always thought I was funnier than those around me. Jace found me funny.
“And what is your opinion on me flying?” I asked him. I was aware how eager I sounded.
“I see no reason to restrict you further,” he said.
Whatever else was said between Mother, Alicent, and the Maester was lost on me. Slipping behind the partition, I pulled on my riding dress.
It belonged to Mother when she was young, before the way her body changed with pregnancy. It was a simple black with grey fastenings. A slit ran up the middle of the skirt so that while standing it appeared to be a normal skirt, yet it parted when I would be mounted on Vhaela. Black scale accents adorned the shoulders and the lower quarter of the sleeves. The fabric was heavy, helping avoid any chill.
I did not do anything particularly special with my hair. The front section on either side, less than an inch, got pulled back away from my face into a small braid. With that, I was ready.
When I stepped out from behind the partition, the Maester was gone. Thank the gods.
“I do not think you should go flying yet,” Mother told me as she stood from her chair.
“You cannot stop me,” I said firmly.
“Y/N” she said, beginning to explain her reasoning.
“No. No. I have been reasonable and compliant this entire time. You two want to play house and pretend the past did not happen, and I have not spoken a word. You both prepare a grand feast that will happen in two days time and I accept it without argument despite not wanting it. Being poked and prodded by the Maester every morning before I even have finished my breakfast has been irritating to no end but still I stayed silent,” I said, feeling a fire build up inside of me. “I went eighteen years, waiting for a dragon while all my brothers’ eggs hatched! Aegon and Helaena had a dragon before I could even form a thought! Even Aemond had Vhagar by the time he was ten! And yet I only had weeks with Vhaela before five years was stolen from me!”
“Rhaenyra, she has a point,” Alicent said to her, taking her hand. The way Mother relaxed made me freeze.
That was what it was. Why Mother allowed Alicent a seat, even still. Why Mother had clung to the idea of the Alicent of their girlhood, even when Alicent was a nightmare. They were in love.
“You would need to chain me in the black cells to keep from her,” I whispered, stepping forward to take her hands in my own. “I am not leaving. I am not disappearing. But Vhaela more than anything is my birthright as a Targaryen.”
She looked between me and Alicent. I could see the thoughts brewing in her mind, trying to find a way to convince both of us to keep me here. Yet, I was my mother’s daughter, blood of the dragon. There was nothing keeping me where I did not want to be.
“Take Aemond or Jace with you,” she instructed me.
Despite not wanting to give them more opportunity to ignore me, I did not want to keep arguing with Mother. Any fight between Targaryens could turn explosive rather quickly. It is why I am grateful that there was no war for Mother’s crown. Had there been, I imagine our entire family would be gone, if not the entire kingdom.
Without another word, I left the room. Erryk was immediately by my side. His presence was comforting, as I found in recent weeks he was my greatest company. And in truth, he wasn’t a bad looking man either. If he hadn’t taken the oath preventing him from taking a wife, I may have said screw the other three and just chosen him.
“Where are we headed, Princess? I assume the Dragon Pit?” he asked as we walked. He looked me up and down, giving a small smile at my attire.
“First we need to find either Jace or Aemond,” I muttered.
“You have not desired to see them for a while now. What’s changed?” he asked me.
“I have been permitted to fly again. Mother, however, insists I take one of the two of them,” I explained. He said nothing else.
As we walked, I knew where both men would be. Aemond would most likely be in the training yard. Despite having been a very accomplished swordsman by his sixteenth nameday, he continued training just as obsessively as before. And Jace? On days like today, where the sun was hidden just enough to avoid hurting one’s eyes but glimmered through the clouds like a treasure waiting to be found, he liked to go down to the shoreline and watch the boats.
My heart pulled me in two different directions. Jace was who my head told me I should want. He truly had been my other half. There was no way I could ever exist without him. Yet still he stayed away. He was the type of person to use the silent treatment as a punishment. Whenever I had made him angry, he would go long bouts of time without saying a thing to me. The longest he went was three months.
Yet Aemond felt like who I wanted to spend time with the most. He was who I wanted to make see my side of things. These last few weeks had driven me crazy because he had refused to come to me. He had never stayed far from my side for more than a few hours if we were in the same place.
My heart decided I needed Aemond. I needed him like one needs to breathe. It felt as though without him life did not make sense.
Instead of turning right at the end of the corridor to leave through the main doors of the Keep, I turned left. It was the fastest way to the training yard. Well, actually, from my room there was a secret corridor hidden behind this dragon statue that lead directly to the training yard, with a few offshoots to get to other rooms around the Keep. But given the fact I don’t want many people knowing about it, including Erryk, it was smarter for me to take this way.
“You look well, Princess,” Erryk commented as we passed several members of Court.
Members of Court were lords and ladies who came from houses that felt they deserved to live among us, yet were evidently unimportant enough that they could abandon their holdings to play dress up with royals. In truth they disgusted me as a general rule. What bothered me was not that they were not royalty, I truthfully couldn’t care less about birth status. No, it bothered me that they would so carelessly abandon their duties at their own homes to come and live in mine.
Perhaps if they just were happy to live here it would not be so terrible. Yet, they would eat the food we had and take the benefits of being a member of court to live lavish lifestyles, all while spreading rumors of our lives. I did not like liars. I did not like people who benefit from lies they spread.
That’s not to say all members of Court were bad. When I was little I had a handmaid named Tarla Greyjoy who was absolutely lovely. She was kind to me, got along with the rest of my family without trying to insert herself into relationships. She didn’t try to get Jacaerys to marry her instead of me like some girls did. And most importantly, she was a very good secret keeper.
She had died when she was thirteen and I was fourteen. We had been sailing to Driftmark so that Jace and I could visit our grandparents, and naturally I had her with me. I didn’t know how scared she was of storms. We sailed right into one and in a panic, she slipped on the deck. To this day I don’t really understand, but she fell in such a way that her neck broke and she died instantly. I was inconsolable for days. She had been my friend for nearly ten years, stood by my side every day during that time. I missed her dearly, but if I gave her too much thought it resulted in a crippling panic attack.
When we stepped out into the training yard, it was not a surprise to see Aemond. He moved gracefully with every swing of his sword. It was like watching Caraxes do his mating dance for Syrax in a way. Which if I were honest sounds a lot dorkier than it was.
He didn’t notice me at first, I don’t think. He was solely focused on his opponent, who I vaguely recognized as another member of Court. The opponent came from a lesser house, I think House Redwyne, and those types of men always liked the chance to get close as possible to us. They also always liked to flirt with Helaena and I to try to make us fall in love and get all gooey when we see them so they can improve their station.
With a swift jab of the sword’s pommel into the shoulder from Aemond, the Redwyne lordling stumbled. In mere seconds, Aemond swept his legs out from under him then held the tip of the sword to his throat. I couldn’t help but to smirk.
Aemond hadn’t used wooden swords to train since about a year after he lost his eye. He said there was no joy for him in it if there was no danger in it. To me, it always sounded like he secretly wished to be injured again.
Mother allowed me to stay by his side for a month after the incident in Driftmark. That month was the worst time of his life, I think. He had to begin to relearn everything before he had even stopped feeling pained from his injury. His depth perception was completely off which hindered his ability to feed himself, to traverse the Keep by himself, or really do much of anything.
He was angry, too, angrier than I had ever seen him. He was angry at my brothers, my mother, his mother, even the gods could’ve feared his wrath. Yet, I was the one person spared his anger, and all he wanted was for me to stay by his side. His reasoning?
That night on Driftmark, I told the truth. That Aemond had woken me up to share with me the chance to claim Vhagar. That when he got back from his inaugural flight, Rhaena was angered by his claim on Vhagar. That her and Baela’s anger caused them to attack Aemond. That he pushed me out of the way before defending himself. Then my brothers jumped in, and eventually it became all of them beating Aemond.
I think what really sealed it that night, at least for Aemond and especially for Alicent, was that I confirmed it was Jace who had brought the knife. He was the one to introduce it.
Jace filled in the words. How Aemond was vicious and violent in his words. That Aemond had called my brothers bastards. Which Jace made sure to glare at me that night as he said that, as to remind me that meant Aemond called me a bastard. And he made sure to point out that Luke only did that to protect his family. Completely ignoring the fact that Aemond was family.
I want to be very clear that I do not believe Luke should have lost his eye as punishment. Alicent suggesting that made my stomach twist and turn back then, and still does to this day. I do, however, believe that my brothers never received punishment for anything they did.
Like why did it matter more to Mother the words that Aemond said rather than the fact her sons were among the attackers? Why did Jace continue to get to carry a knife while I returned home and was forbidden from Jace’s side for three months? When it was I who saw that the actions of those four weighed just as heavily as the words of Aemond? Why did Mother completely forget that Jace made Aemond’s life hell for not having a dragon, making him feel lesser than, while I sat there and listened to him belittle someone in the same position I was in?
And to be honest, it wasn’t as though Aemond was wrong. Yes, it was technically treasonous of him to say it out loud. But again, he wasn’t wrong. Vaemond Velaryon was not wrong. We are bastards. Our blood is Harwin Strong. Not a drop of Velaryon blood resides in our veins. Though, they could’ve said it less disgustedly.
It was doubtful anyone could understand how frustrating these thoughts are. They made me feel as though I betray Mother and my brothers by acknowledging the circumstances of our birth. But, if I denounce Aemond for speaking that, it is like I am calling him a liar, which he isn’t. Truly, it feels like no matter what I feel about that situation, I am screwed.
Aemond noticed me at that point. Given the way his head snapped up in my direction, I imagine I let out a grunt of frustration. He looked almost ashamed when he saw me.
Good.
“Prince Aemond, a word if you will,” I said loudly to him. We were about five feet apart, so I did not have to practically yell it to him. But I spoke louder than needed so that he would have no choice.
Wordlessly, he put his sword in its scabbard and walked over to me. Just having him within arms reach again was enough to make me feel my heart rate increase. Fucking Seven Hells, I love him so much.
“Princess,” he said quietly, giving me a subtle nod of his head.
“You are to accompany me in flight, as requested by Her Grace the Queen,” I told him firmly.
Sometimes, I really liked pulling rank. It was truly the only thing he would listen to at times. He was annoyingly stubborn. Not in the way that most anyone with a cock was, but in a special and overwhelming way.
“And where are you wishing to go, Princess?” he asked me.
“I think perhaps Felwood. A short flight from here, three hours tops,” I said, shrugging a bit.
He nodded and motioned for me lead the way. I tried to relax my jaw as it tightened in annoyance. He was still wanting to put a distance between us.
“Ser Erryk, you are dismissed for the time being. I shall seek you out when I return,” I said to Erryk. The sweet knight nodded and took his leave.
Now there was no buffer between Aemond and I. He could not feign interest in anyone else’s life. He could not ignore me.
We walked in silence from the training yard, though he did still give me his arm to hold. The walk from the Keep to the Dragon Pit typically talk about an hour and a half. They were about five miles apart. When I went there with the children, we always took a carriage. When I was with Aemond, though, he preferred the walk.
Passing by several shops on the streets of city, several shopkeepers and their patrons stared at us. I wasn’t entirely sure why but they had never approached us. Mother always feared they would mob me. Though they didn’t seem to care most of the time. Maybe it was because I had spent so much time among them they saw me more as a person.
“It wasn’t just us that missed you,” Aemond said quietly. I looked to him immediately, my heart speeding up as he pulled me closer. “The people of the city missed you as well.”
He was probably right. Before my disappearance, I worked hard to gain the love and respect of the citizens of King’s Landing. It wasn’t that I needed everyone in the world to like me. But I knew, more than anything, that one day these people would be my people. One day I would be their Queen. And it is easier to rule people that love you.
“You hurt me,” I told him as we kept walking.
He sighed rather loudly. “I know.”
“I’m not speaking of the dinner, Aemond. Which, by the way, was a dick move for a lot of reasons. But I’m talking about the fact that today is the first time since that you’ve spoken to me,” I said.
I was trying desperately to hold my voice steady. Every part of me wanted to scream at him. It wasn’t even necessarily anger that made me feel this way. It was just there was so much crap in my head and in my heart, and he didn’t seem to get it.
“I was embarrassed,” he admitted.
“Gods, I can’t imagine why you would be,” I muttered rather harshly.
Immediately, he went back to being quiet. I wanted to kick myself in the head. Why did I have to say that?
This was not the first time in my life I had said something that caused instant regret. Hells, it was not even the first time since I’ve returned that I’ve done it. I tended to speak before I thought at times when I really should just be quiet.
The rest of our walk was in silence. In the near hour and a half it takes to walk from the Red Keep to the Dragon Pit, he only said maybe twenty words to me. I longed for his voice, his declarations of love. Yet, because of who I am I could not receive them.
Aemond discussed with the keepers that we wish to fly. He spoke quietly with them, so quietly it was obvious he did not want me to hear, telling them they only need bring Vhaela. They had nodded in understanding near immediately before shuffling off to bring Vhaela to me.
“You do understand the rules are I have to take you with me, yes?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“I shall fly on Vhaela with you,” he said simply.
My face heated up as blood rushed to my cheeks. Aemond had always told me that I needed to fly on a dragon before I had my own. So we went weekly into the skies, grateful to Vhagar that she was so good. The last time we rode on the same dragon was before I had Vhaela. It was not the feeling of flying that I remembered from that trip. No, it was the feeling of his cock buried inside me that was the only thing I could remember.
I caught him looking at me and smirking. That caused my cheeks to heat up even more. My breath caught in the space between my lungs and my throat and a fire burned inside me, nestled in the svalley between my thighs.
“You remember,” he said quietly. We were all alone in this moment.
“How could I not?” I whispered. Feeling emboldened by his obvious or perhaps just stupid, I changed our position. Now I stood chest to chest with him.
“Which part do you remember most, my love?” he whispered to me. His hands found my waist to hold me close. Though they didn’t stay there, slowly working their way back and down.
I took a deep breath. He was looking at me with such an intensity it felt like he could burn a hole in my soul. All I could think was how the ache between my thighs was becoming overwhelming. If he could hear my heart, he would hear it thudding against my chest harder with every passing second.
“Or how about you tell me your memories of it?” I whispered, smirking up at him. “After all, you’re the one who needs to make up for your behavior.”
He chuckled as his hands worked their way over my ass and around to my front. “Always been a brat, haven’t you? Can’t do as you are told?” he asked. His voice was quiet and deep.
“I listen to those who deserve it,” I said to him. My breath caught in my throat as his fingers moved past the parting of my skirt. They brushed against my clit through the thin material of the shift I wore underneath. The touch was so light one could miss it.
“And if I beg you for forgiveness?” he whispered, watching my face intently as he increased the pressure of his touch. There was no denying the pleasure of it.
“Get to begging,” I practically commanded him. I couldn’t help but to inch my hips forward.
Gods if I had any ounce of self respect I would push him away. I wouldn’t allow him to touch me like this without a proper apology. In fact, I perhaps should’ve championed for Aegon to accompany me just to prove my point to Aemond. That it was not fair of him to ignore me when I had done nothing wrong.
But as he rubbed my clit through the flimsy skirt of my shift, I couldn’t help but lean against him. My forehead was pressed against his chest, my breathing becoming ragged. I gripped his wrist tightly as I felt that all too familiar band tightening behind my navel.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered when I finally let out a breathy moan. “Should’ve been doing this for you the entire time. I promise, baby, I won’t be so stupid ever again.”
With his free hand, he lifted the shift up enough to where he could touch my clit directly. I let out a loud moan, one that caused him to chuckle. His thumb stayed firmly pressed against my clit, moving in tight little circles, as he moved his other fingers to my entrance.
“So wet for me, baby,” he whispered in my ear before pushing his fingers inside. Right off the bat he started with two. His fingers were long and slender, feeling heavenly inside me. “You deserve the world you know that?”
“Fuck, Aemond,” I moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out.
He eagerly worked my cunt as he continued to rub my clit. My grip on his wrist tightened as I began seeing stars.
“That’s it, such a good girl,” he praised me as the band behind my navel finally snapped. Orgasmic bliss washed over me. “Such a perfect girl. Do you forgive, princess?”
I only just managed to pull myself away as the Keeper surfaced with Vhaela in tow. Aemond was smirking at me. He maintained eye contact with me as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean. I swear to the gods he moaned.
“Perhaps,” I told him quietly, smirking a bit before walking over to Vhaela.
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sunnyxjarrus · 8 months ago
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tbb episode 12 the juggernaut spoilers
look I have last weeks episode review in my drafts but I actually don’t know when I will post it
any way spoilers below the cut
wrecker lived I can’t wait for Kay Kay to see that in 6 hours
The tremor is back
phee my darling welcome home a lot has happened
‘tech told me all about your sparkling personality’
ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT TECH WAS JUST BABBLING TO HER ABOUT HIS FUCKING BROTHERS BECAUSE THAT IS AMAZING AND I WISH WE GOT TO SEE IT
‘any friend of brown eyes is a friend of mine’
don’t mind me I will be on the floor sobbing for at least 20 minutes and then I will finish the episode
they really expected tech to be talking to a girl who didn’t pull crazy air stunts
I love her so much and I love the fact that they could have been a spaceship master tricks power couple
bro just wanted some action and he got some action
I never realized how much I needed to hear cross say “how touching” again
I can’t wait to watch this again in 10 hours
did that bitch just go for a blaster
crosshair so ready to kill people as he should be
I’m actually terrified of this episode because it had so many clips in the trailer
my baby she’s back with sass and we’re here for it
and they are off world
Omega and Emerie that’s all just omega and Emerie
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wantonlywindswept · 2 years ago
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Good Dad Paz ficlet
i;’m fukkin. sobbing. apparently all i needed to write was an episode of mandalorians being DADS and loving their kids who knew
Post 3.1 canon divergence, Paz decides to go after Din on his epic roadtrip to Mandalore. din is sir not appearing in this ficlet
Mando’a I decided didn’t have an acceptable substitute in English that vibed:
alor: title indicating a leader
---
The day after Din left, when the Armorer reminded them that redemption could only be achieved through the Living Waters, Paz's first thought was, 'What kind of fool would go to a poisoned planet?'
His second thought was the horrifying realization that Din was absolutely that kind of fool.
Then Paz immediately started packing, because apparently so was he.
"Do you go to aid him, or to dissuade him?" the Armorer asked, standing on the landing pad below as he shoved supplies into the battered Z-95 Headhunter. It had taken another day just to requisition the ship, waiting for its return from offworld while Din's trail grew ever colder. The covert only had a few ships available and most were constantly in use; Paz's decision to requisition the starfighter had not been looked upon kindly.
"When has he ever done anything but what he wanted?" he grunted, wedging his assault cannon into the space behind the Headhunter's seat. He'd scrounged together enough supplies to last him a week, pulled mostly from his own reserves, and had items for barter stowed away should he make landfall on a populated planet. 
"He is an apostate," the Armorer pointed out, "Which makes him no longer our concern."
"He's an idiot," Paz countered, "And he'll get both himself and his child killed if he goes to that cursed planet."
He finished stowing the last of his supplies and jumped down, landing heavily in front of her. She regarded him silently as he straightened.
"Do I have permission to leave, alor?" he asked stiffly. 
Paz wasn't sure what he would do if she said no. He hadn't really thought that far ahead: a common failing of his, to do things without first thinking them through. He approached life fists first and blasters second, and most problems were solved through judicial application of one or the other.
That method never had really worked on Din, though, no matter how much they tried it with each other.
The Armorer considered him a few moments longer before inclining her head, and Paz felt just a moment of relief before she spoke again.
"Do you agree with Din Djarin's choice?"
He blinked.
"Alor?"
"Had it been your child in danger," the Armorer enunciated, "Would you have removed your helmet as he did?"
Paz stiffened. His gaze darted past her, to the edge of the landing pad, where Ragnar waited patiently to say goodbye.
Paz hadn't known, on Glavis, why Din had removed his helmet. All he'd felt was anger - not unusual, when it came to Din - and stomach-churning envy - also not unusual - from seeing the Darksaber finally returned to Mandalorian hands. Hands that weren't a Vizsla's, for all that Paz thought the damned thing was cursed. Hands that didn't understand what they held; hands that were, in the end, not Mandalorian at all.
And that had been the sharpest cut, a grieving wound reopened: to realize that one of his brothers, returned from the dead, hadn't actually been returned to him at all. 
Paz now owed Din a life debt; that was not in question. Din had saved his son, and Paz would repay that a hundred times over, a thousand times over, knowing that Ragnar lived because of his actions. He would protect Din's child or protect the fool himself, would walk on the surface of a death-trap of a planet and follow Din wherever he needed to go, because that was the least the man was owed for saving his child.
What wouldn't Paz do for his son?
The Armorer waited for his response, hands clasped in front of her. 
Paz looked away.
"I think," he said quietly, "That neither of us would like the answer to that question."
The Armorer said nothing. After a moment she turned to walk back into the caves; Paz let out a low breath and wondered if he, too, might need the absolution of the Living Waters.
Ragnar scampered over once it was clear that departure was imminent, and Paz didn't have to force a smile as he knelt down, gathering the boy into his arms as he barreled into him. 
"You're leaving now?" Ragnar asked, only a hint of a pout in his voice. He'd come a long way from the shaking, anxious boy that Paz had found, blossoming in the safety of the covert's care and Paz's own gentle guidance. "To find the Hunter?"
"To fulfill a debt," Paz agreed. 
Ragnar made an unhappy noise.
"It should be mine," he said, not for the first time. "It's my life that was saved, I should be the one with the life debt. I can pay it!"
Paz chuckled, leaning down to press their foreheads together, beskar connecting in a quiet singing note.
"You're still too young, and unless I go after him now, there will be no Hunter to repay. You are my foundling, and it is my place and privilege to take care of you. Understand?"
Ragnar sighed, and grumbled, and leaned back just so that he could tap their helmets together again.
"This is the Way," he agreed morosely.
Paz smiled and chucked him gently under the chin.
"This is the Way."
--
pt 2
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notebooknonbinary · 2 years ago
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Byler Week, Day 4: Summer Love
I opted to write an AU where Byler got together some weeks before the events of season 3. And then rewrote Suzie Do You Copy with that in mind lol. I’ll post this to ao3 (bc it’s Finished for once) when I finish the other fics for Byler Week.
Being boyfriends is only a little bit different than being best friends, in Will’s opinion. This is partly because they can only really be boyfriends in the safety of Will’s room. There, they’re free to hold hands and sit far too close together—Mike writing poems (for Will’s eyes only), and Will filling page after page of his sketchbook with Mike’s face.
But even being best friends is now better than it used to be, with that last secret no longer weighing Will down. Mike feels like his safe harbor in the wild storm of life.
A safe harbor that he so desperately needs. He’s been having…moments occasionally, these past couple weeks. Moments that feel like last fall’s ‘episodes’—never quite so bad as then, he’s always aware of where he is—but times when he almost feels like the Upside Down’s presence is near.
It happened last night, at the movie theater—the double date. Max and Lucas hadn’t been aware it was a double date…but for the few seconds before the feeling hit, sitting with Mike in a crowded movie theater, knees touching and sharing an armrest…he’d felt like a normal kid on a date with his boyfriend.
Then that feeling, like an icy hand had run it’s way up his neck. Bad, awful. No no no no please not again. Like so many times last year.
Mike had noticed immediately. Of course he did. He’d immediately checked with Will.
And Will almost said something. He knew Mike would believe him. He’d drop everything to figure out if something More was going on again.
But…
But they were on a date. He didn’t want to ruin that. So he shrugged and gave Mike a wry smile. “Air conditioning is chilly.” Which distracted Mike and gave them an excuse to huddle even closer together.
If it happens again, Will promised himself. I’ll tell Mike if it happens again.
Afterwards, they left Max and Lucas behind to finish their own date (aka walking around the mall and window shopping together) and went back to Will’s house. And had opted to sleep in the living room for obvious, sharing-a-wall-with-Jonathan reasons.
Reasons that are now making Jonathan go to work late with lipstick smudged on his face.
“Gross,” Will mutters to Mike, who nods in emphatic agreement. They’ve both agreed that though they are happy their siblings are happy, it’s still disgusting.
If Will walks in on them making out (ew) one more time, he’s breaking into Jonathan’s room while he’s at work and drawing dicks on his posters.
“You’re not gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love,” Joyce teases as she sits down with them.
Will blushes and focuses on putting syrup on his eggs, doing his best to not glance in Mike’s direction. Part of him thinks that his mom already knows—whether just the fact that his interests lies with boys, specifically with Mike, or that Mike reciprocates that feeling.
A beat too late, Will says. “I’d still be disgusted.”
“Okay,” Joyce chuckles.
After breakfast, Will and Mike go back to Will’s room to finish planning Dustin’s surprise welcome back, and cuddle a bit. The talk doesn’t last very long, the cuddling too comfortable and lulling them both in a drowsy state of relaxation.
But Will glances over at the clock eventually, and realizes the time. Dustin should be on his way back within an hour. Which means Hop is dropping El off here.
“El is coming over soon,” Will reminds him, beginning to pull away from Mike’s warm koala-like embrace.
“But cuddles,” Mike whines, inching closer again but only half serious.
“And Hop is coming too,” Will adds, and laughs when that immediately works to make Mike sit up.
“He’s just coming to flirt at your mom,” he mutters, which makes Will groan and shove him off the bed.
“Don’t make me think about that!”
“Well you’re the one who brought him up in the first place!” Mike whines, climbing to his feet and stretching.
Will is so busy staring at the line of Mike’s shoulders that it takes him a long moment to reply. “Uh.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t want to make El upset by us cuddling when she got here,” he admits.
Mike’s face softens from teasing rage to affection. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about El. She’s not jealous anymore. She’s already said that she thinks she wouldn’t have enjoyed dating me anyway.”
Will shrugs. “I guess. I just, if I’d been in her shoes—” Which he almost had been. “—it would have hurt, to see the person I lo—like cuddling with someone else.”
Will feels his face go hot at his almost slip. He hopes Mike hasn’t caught it. He jumps to his feet. “Anyway!! We gotta get ready to greet Dustin!”
-
They’ve put together a poster—well, Will’s done most of the drawing, but he’s not gonna brag.
Mike does most of the bragging for him.
“Will made you a poster and everything,” he says, grinning and leaning most of his weight on Will, like it’s not eighty degrees in Dustin’s room.
(Will can’t actually find it in him to mind.)
“And whose idea was it to sneak up on me?” Dustin asks dryly.
“Max,” Will and Mike say together. And Dustin sighs, glaring out his bedroom door. Out in the kitchen, they can hear Max and Lucas playfully squabbling while they clean out Lucas’s poor eyes. Dustin sighs again and turns back to the rest of them.
“The moving toys were a nice touch,” he compliments El, who beams.
“I’ve been practicing.”
“So you were gonna show us your inventions?” Mike asks. “I’m kind of jealous, honestly.”
He says that, but Will knows Mike had the opportunity a few years ago to go to a summer camp. But he’d thrown a fit at the idea of being separated from Will for a whole two months, so in the end he hadn’t gone. Mr. Wheeler had been mad about it for weeks—well, as mad as the man ever got, anyway.
But Dustin brightens at the question, a bounce in his step. “Oh man, yes! You guys are gonna be so impressed!”
And his inventions are impressive.
It blows Will’s mind if he thinks about it, how smart his entire friend group is—but especially Dustin. He’s like a mad scientist sometimes.
Mad scientists don’t generally come back from summer camp with girlfriends, however. In this, apparently, Dustin is the exception.
Which is how the entire Party finds themselves trekking their way up a hill in borderline 90 degree heat, ostensibly to use Dustin’s self-made Ham radio to talk to his Mormon girlfriend, Suzie.
-
After a brief moment where Mike has to point out and help Dustin untangle a wire that got crossed on the way up here, the radio tower is set up. It’s a feat of creation, but Will’s feeling too exhausted by the trip that he feels a little bit annoyed by it.
He’s so tired, he almost doesn’t notice another familiar chill go down his neck and spine. Oh god. No.
But, he promised himself if it happened again he’d tell Mike. It’s honestly probably better that everyone is here, though Will hates to take them out of their peaceful summer.
He sighs and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, there’s a crackle on the radio.
“Dusty?” says a girl’s voice.
“Suzie-poo!!!” Dustin cheers. “I’ve brought my friends to meet you!”
“Suzie-poo?” Mike hisses into Will’s ear.
Momentarily distracted from his worry, Will bites back a giggle and shrugs.
He tries to imagine giving Mike a cutesy nickname like that—Mikey-Wikey?—and snorts. When Mike raises an eyebrow, he shakes his head. “Tell you later.”
“It’s nice to meet my Dusty-bun’s friends,” Suzie says. “Though I can’t stay on long, I have to help my siblings prepare dinner.”
They talk with her for a bit. Suzie seems fun and good for Dustin. Will’s happy for him, all earlier resentment gone.
The moment earlier is still sticking to the back of his mind like slime. He knows he has to bring it up once they’re done talking to Suzie.
And indeed, once she and Dustin have exchanged their last ‘I-miss-you-already’ and signed off, Will opens his mouth to speak. But, once again, he’s interrupted by the radio crackling again.
And this time, it’s not Suzie.
-
Bad, Upside Down feelings, and some random Russian translation? Is Will never going to get one break? Even just for one full year?
Once Dustin’s gotten the recording of the man, Will finally tells them what he felt earlier and yesterday.
Not entirely surprisingly, Mike is upset that Will didn’t mention it last night. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Will obviously can’t say the truth in front of their friends, so he shrugs. “Didn’t want to ruin the night.” Our date, goes unsaid.
Mike sighs and nods. “Sleepover at my house?” he suggests. “Maybe we have a Russian translation book somewhere in the mess.”
Will’s doubtful of that—Ted Wheeler’s detestment of anything related to so-called communists springs to mind.
-
Later, once they’ve torn apart the basement looking for a nonexistent translation book, the Party collectively agree to put the planning off until tomorrow. Talk turns back to Dustin’s new girlfriend.
“So that’s everyone except Will,” Dustin says eventually, brightly, turning expectant eyes towards him.
Will raises his eyebrows. “Everyone but me, what?”
“Who’s gotten a kiss!”
Then Lucas and Dustin are off, chattering away at potentially trying to set Will up with the (apparently) numerous girls in their grade that have crushes on him. The concept is, frankly, horrifying. Next to him, he can feel Mike beginning to tense up, curling and uncurling his hands into the fabric of the couch.
(Will knows now, from whispered conversations during recent sleepovers, that Mike sometimes feels a little jealous toward the girls that have had crushes on Will. Mike’s not proud of it, and it’s something they’re both working on—Will has his own tiny silent beats of jealousy towards Mike’s past crush on El.)
“I’ve had my first kiss,” Will blurts, cutting into the argument.
Mike goes very, very still.
“You have?” Lucas blurts, eyes wide. Then, grinning proudly, he asks, “Tell us about her!”
“Was she a good kisser?” Max adds, nodding immediately. She’s grinning.
Will feels himself getting redder and redder, desperately wanting to hide his face in his hands. He turns to silently beg Mike for help, but neither he nor Mike are mind readers.
No, instead Mike’s seen that none of their friends have an inkling of the truth and he’s beginning to smile himself. Traitor.
“Yeah, Will,” he teases gently. “Was she a good kisser?”
Will tries to kill Mike with his eyes. But his boyfriend’s bright grin draws Will’s eyes to his mouth. Eyes caught there, Will finds himself speaking automatically. “I mean, I don’t have anyone to measure hi-her against, but I think she was a very good kisser.”
That mouth curls into a proud smirk.
“Was she pretty?” El’s smiling softly, knowingly. She’s the only one who knows the truth.
This one is an automatic, honest response. “The most beautiful person in the world.”
Mike blinks, grin falling and face turning pinker. Will watches the color travel from his cheeks to blotch at his neck. Now it’s his turn to look desperately like he wants to hide his face in his hands.
On the one hand, revenge (even unintended) is sweet. But on the other hand, Will hopes he hasn’t made Mike uncomfortable. Mike gets oddly shy about being perceived sometimes. Probably because of all the bullying they’ve faced.
(Will wants to go back in time and break Troy’s other arm.)
El, clearly the most of observant of their friends, sees the dilemma and turns to distraction. “I would like to watch a movie. That’s a sleepover activity, isn’t it?”
Max nods. “Heck yeah! And since it was your suggestion, that means you get to pick!”
Dustin groans. “No, she’s gonna pick Grease again!”
El smiles smugly. “I like Grease.” She leads them all away to search for the cassette, turning to look at Will and Mike. “Snacks please?”
“Thank you,” Will mouths at her. She giggles.
Will drags a somewhat unresponsive boyfriend upstairs and into the kitchen. He sets popcorn to cook, then sits at the dining table.
After the movie starts playing downstairs (the volume is up too loud, Will can hear the Paramount theme music from here), Mike sits down beside Will.
“Do you really…think I’m beautiful?” he asks.
Will nods immediately. “Mike, genuinely—even putting aside my feelings for you—you are so pretty and handsome.” He smiles at him shyly. “And with my feelings in the equation, I don’t think I’d ever find anyone more beautiful.”
Mike goes a deeper red and leans against him, hiding his face in Will’s shoulder. “Thank you. I think you’re really pretty too.”
They sit like this until the popcorn is almost done, then race around gathering the rest of the snacks. They’re near juggling by the time they’ve gotten everything.
Mike smiles at Will and jerks his head towards the basement door. “Ready?”
Will nods, beaming back. “After you, Mike.”
Downstairs, Summer Nights is playing. Will can hear Mike humming along. All the worries of tomorrow (Russian transmissions, the Upside Down) seem far away and unimportant in this moment.
“Summer days, drifting away, to oh, oh those Summer nights.”
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vyla-and-the-pods · 1 year ago
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Vyla's Sunday wrap-up!
Hello lovely people on my screen! I've been getting really into podcasts these last few weeks since finishing Wolf 359 and I am DYING to talk about them! This is my way to talk about what I've been listening to this week and dumping my thoughts since I do not have friends that listen to podcasts lol
Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Later (ep 14) (minor spoilers)
I'm a die-hard Cry Havoc! fan. It's one of the few podcasts I've caught within the first few episodes and it is quickly one I will jump to every time a new episode comes out. Who would've thought a workplace comedy set in ancient Rome would be so good! The humor is dry and mostly situational and works so well.
This episode had a bit more heart than Cry Havoc! has had before and it worked so well! Listening to Octavia and Charmian have a serious discussion that helped further their relationship beyond "ooh haha sexy morally grey lesbians" was really refreshing and nice to see such character growth within just a few episodes.
And the entire plague plot with Gaius and Mark was a great way to balance it out. I love Cry Havoc!'s style of humor. My only qualm is I couldn't find a transcript for this episode but I might've been looking in the wrong place.
Arden (eps 1-4)
GUYS I LOVE ARDEN SO MUCH!!!
This is also a Shakespeare inspired piece! Season 1 is inspired by Romeo and Juliet, which I realized embarrassingly late in, and the little R&J easter eggs I have been picking up are really cool and make me feel like I remembered something from 9th grade English haha.
I used to looove true crime podcasts but I got uncomfortable by how the hosts would discuss the killers and victims so Arden, as a fake true crime podcast, is a great middle ground! I heard season 3 is coming out soon so hopefully I can catch up in time! I love Bea and Brenda's banter and honestly the two just need to kiss or something, but I digress. The writers make this a really compelling story and even though only one aspect of the cold case is examined per episode I am hooked and not at all bored or frustrated when we divert to Bea and Brenda's side convos. I have listened to this when going to bed and gotten scared once or twice, and for a fake true crime podcast I consider that a win!
Wolf 359 (finale)
I don't have the word count to say everything I want to say about Wolf 359. If you know me you might have seen the post I made about finishing Wolf 359 this week and how it was just so world alterting for me because I've been listening to it on and off for about 8 years. It really is the end of an era. It didn't go down the way I thought it would and it was a very bittersweet ending. I feel like everything was tied up well but I do have some questions about Bob. I am going to miss Lovelace, and Eiffel and...everybody! Maybe not Kepler. Truly is an end of an era for me. I was podcast-hungover the whole day.
Stellar Firma (ep 1)
I gave the first episode of Stellar Frima a try, I'm a big Rusty Quill fan so I had high hopes but guys, I don't think this is for me. The pilot episode didn't click for me the way I thought it would and it just didn't seem my speed. What do you guys think about Stellar Firma? Should I give it another shot?
Malevolent (ep 6)
Malevolent is another show I'm trying to get into since everybody loves it but the pace just feels so slow to me right now. I know more overarching plot points develop later on so I'm willing to stick this one out. I like malevolent but it just feels like all the places and things they're doing right now are building toward something I'm not at yet and that's just frustrating.
Time:bombs (1 -3)
What better way to get me out of my Wolf 359 hangover than a podcast made by the Wolf 359 folks? This one came recommended to me by anon so thank you whoever you are! I listened to the entire podcast (3 episodes) in one day and loved it! I miss you Radio Bob. I hope you're doing well. Humor was elite but what else should I have expected from Gabriel Urbina? I loved the character development they were capable of in 3 episodes. I can see myself relistening to this soon!
The Kingmaker Histories (prologue....ep 0?)
another podcast I heard had a new season coming out soon. I don't know how I feel; about fantasy podcasts but I liked season 1 of The Two Princes so I have high hopes. I only listened to the prologue so far and haven't even met the MC so I don't have many opinions yet.
Liminal Criminals (ep 1)
I listened to the first episode twice. It was so funny. Few podcast make me actually laugh out loud. I interrupted my roommate making dinner to tell her about this because I kept laughing. The dry voice the narrator has while he explains the most ABSURD FAKE TRUE CRIME sold this for me. "Mr. Breadsticks stays. Mr. Breadsticks stays. I will kill you with a fork. Mr. Breadsticks stays." is my discord status and no one understands me. I hope the rest of these episodes are as funny.
Alright well that's my week! Thanks for dealing with my ramblings folks! Tell me your thoughts on these shows, what's worth it what's not? I'll be shitposting about some of these shows throughout the week, but we'll see what the Pod Gods hold. Til next week lovely people!
~Vyla
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paramorearchived · 8 months ago
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March 24, 2013
Transcript:
perspective
This will be the last of the lyric posts until the album comes! There's going to be a lot of exciting stuff happening this week so I promise that the time will fly by! Thanks for coming here to read the tiniest preview of some of the songs off our album. The guys and I are all but bursting at the seams with pride and excitement for this record to come out. Thank God.
It's hard to believe that almost a year ago, exactly, we moved out to LA to finish writing/start recording our Self Titled album. The few months before that were a weird time for me, personally. I was battling the present and just constantly trying to figure out how to get to whatever was going to be next. It's funny how life goes cause then you start to look back at a time that felt really difficult and realize it was one of the most beautiful times in your whole life. The last two years were strange and hard and I learned a lot... but it was easily one of the most amazing, most peaceful times of my life. When I talk to people about it, I refer to last Spring/Summer as a "golden moment" that sparked so much growth and necessary healing. Funny I didn't recognize how perfect it actually was when I was living it. We all need a little perspective sometimes. To stand back and really get what we're right in the middle of.
Last January, I sat up in bed one morning and sang out the chorus to a song that, for pretty obvious reasons, we called "Daydreaming". I've never been the kind of writer to do that. There are like a billion episodes of Behind The Music where the artist talks about writing a song in their sleep... waking up and putting it down on paper before they go back to bed... or some of them just get right up and get to work finishing it. That's just never been me, though I always wished it was. This particular morning, however, I woke up and from somewhere deep in my head or heart or wherever songs come from... it just came out like word vomit. Later that day I went to Taylor's and showed him. Eventually the song kind of finished itself.
Looking back on the months before we moved to California, I was having the worst time just getting through my daily life. I didn't want to see anyone I knew in Nashville. I felt lonely and sad and a little hurt. For whatever reason I just felt like there was more out there for me but it wasn't wherever I was. Not "more" as in success, or any type of worldly gain... but I just felt like my heart should be happier. I was constantly dreaming up a brighter life in my head. Trying to figure out what to do to get there. When we moved to LA, even the physical act of getting away wasn't really helping. At that point, I felt completely lost. If I was this far away from my problems and I still felt alone and down... then where could I go to feel any less alone? It took a few weeks. It took getting up every morning and just deciding I was right where I needed to be. It took singing "Daydreaming" out loud in front of a mic in the studio and turning it into a reality. Now I look back at that season of my life with such a deep nostalgia. Growing pains sometimes hurt like heartache. In the moments that you feel change happening and you feel your heart, mind, body and soul resisting it with all your might, try not resisting for only a moment. Go with it, even! It's like that quote I've always loved by Anias Nin... "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom". Don't miss a chance to move forward. Daydream a little. Don't be scared to embrace the way that it hurts just to grow. You'll look back and your heart will thank you for not standing still when what you needed the most was to move forward.
"Living in a city of sleepless people Who all know the limits and won't go too far outside the lines Cause they're' out of their minds. I wanna get out and build my own home On a street where reality is not much different from dreams I've had A dream is all I have...
Daydreaming Daydreaming all the time Daydreaming Daydreaming into the night And I'm alright
Creep past the hours like the shorter hand on the clock hanging on a wall of a schoolhouse somewhere We wait for the bell And we dream of somewhere else
Daydreaming Daydreaming all the time Daydreaming Daydreaming into the night And I'm alright
Not that I won't remember where I'm from Just don't wanna be here no more It's not enough (We're only half alive) I'm gonna go (We're only half alive) Where the rest of the dreamers go
Where the dreamers go
Daydreaming Daydreaming all the time Daydreaming Daydreaming into the night And I'm alright
Daydreaming Daydreaming all the time Daydreamer We used to be half alive Now I'm alright"
Surprise! There's the whole song's worth...
-hayley
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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year ago
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I’ve had Cabin Pressure saved on my phone for fucking ages by now. I downloaded it back in early July, I think. I had the idea that I had gone through most of my list of things to watch/listen to, and I wanted some new long-running audio thing. I asked people what they thought I should pick, and had multiple recommendations for this show Cabin Pressure, which is not long-running, people just said it’s good and only 13 hours so I should do that first. I didn’t know much about it, I knew that John Finnemore is one of those guys who was Footlights and Radio 4 so probably does the kind of vaguely pretentious humour that I like, so I downloaded it and figured that once I finish everything else on the list, I’ll quickly do the 13 hours of Cabin Pressure before starting some new long-running thing.
…That was months ago. It’s now mid-November, because I kept getting recommended other things. I did a Lee & Herring rabbit hole, followed by going through a whole bunch of Stewart Lee things that I didn’t get to last year when I just did his TV shows + DVDs. A similar thing with Josie Long, when I got my ahdns on a bunch of her stuff that went beyond her recorded shows that I heard/watched last year. There was a bunch of Robin Ince stuff and Michael Legge stuff. There were lots of recordings from the 2023 Edinburgh Festival throughout August. Then there was Alan Partridge, I listened to From the Oasthouse and liked it so much that I had to listen to all three of his audiobooks before I could move on from that. Turns out I missed out on a lot by only doing the TV/radio things + movie on the first go of that stuff years ago, the books and podcasts are better.
There have been other things too. I kept finding more stuff, to add to my “Comedy --> New” working folder on my phone, with the folder labeled “Cabin Pressure” always there at the top, never touched. But this week, I finally finished everything else in that folder, and all the episodes on my podcast app and in my Downloads folder on my laptop, and opened up this new thing.
I realized I’d been expected it to be a show about people trapped in an airplane after a crash or something – some sort of horror scenario like that. So I was surprised to learn it’s just a sitcom about airline pilots flying planes, and I had to retrace my steps to work out where I got my expectation. I think it came from the fact that the only thing I’ve seen John Finnemore do was be the guy who flew the escape pod in Avenue 5, so I guess I just assumed anything he does with flying is a dystopia.
I’m now two episodes in, and it’s not a dystopian nightmare. It’s Butternut Cabbagepatch and Peter Manion from The Thick of It being sarcastic at each other, and it’s great. It makes me almost nostalgic, the way it so perfectly captures the essence of the Radio 4 sitcom, of the sort that my dad used to often play in the car when I was a kid. Biting, sarcastic characters all talking with perfect diction and dry wit being sardonically annoyed about things. A bit like The Department too (which is another example of how I think this the exact type of slightly pretentious humour that you get when you combine Footlights with Radio 4). I love that shit.
Unfortunately, however, I’ve been sidetracked again. I’ve heard a few things of Nish Kumar’s recent stand-up, some of which can be seen in a post that’s been going around Tumblr, where he thanks Russell Brand for never making anything of value that is now ruined by the recent news. I think the version that got filmed actually didn’t mention Arthur, but in some other versions, he has said he specifically appreciates that the Arthur remake was shit so it’s not like anyone’s out there saying “Oh no, I can’t watch the Arthur remake anymore.” I hope the fact that he didn’t mention it on NextUp doesn’t mean he’s cut that line entirely, because I think it’s a good example.
I haven’t seen the Arthur remake. But I have seen Arthur, several times, when I was quite young. To be honest I don’t remember a lot about it, except that it had a main character who was kind of a dick, with a dry-witted sarcastic butler who at one point said “I’ll alert the media” when Arthur said he was going to take a bath. I remember that part because it became a running joke in my family for years and years. It still is, actually. Ever since I was a kid, my family will say “I’ll alert the media” to each other as a way to sarcastically suggest that whatever they’re doing isn’t that important.
When I was a teenager, I used to write a parody newspaper that would publish an edition during every family reunion, because that’s the type of annoying teenager I was (I say, as though I don’t now have a blog for writing similarly annoying things). I remember that one time, at such a gathering, my father told me he was going to take a bath. “I’ll alert the media!” I said, very pleased to have had an excuse to use that reference in its original context. As soon as I said it, I realized I was the media, and considered myself alerted. So I wrote an article in the family newspaper called “Your Very Local News – What Is Going on in Your Bathroom Right Now” about how my father was taking a bath, and the whole thing was a joke about how the media has to be alerted when people take baths, and it was a reference to a movie that no one in the family besides my parents/brother and I had seen. I was about to write that that’s the sort of annoying teenager I used to be, but actually, I stand by that, I think it was hilarious.
Anyway. I haven’t actually seen that movie since I was young. I remember so little about it. I know it stars Dudley Moore. I remember my dad first got me interested in it by telling me it stars one of the Beyond the Fringe guys, since I loved the Beyond the Fringe CD that he used to play in the car a lot (when he wasn’t playing mildly pretentious Radio 4 sitcoms, or his Goon Show tapes – you can see how my childhood influenced my current interests). I remember finding it very funny.
So, when I heard Nish Kumar fairly recently mention the Arthur remake (for anyone who doesn’t know, the original movie is from 1981, while in 2011 Russell Brand starred in a remake, I have never seen that remake and have no desire to do so), it made me think I should re-watch that original movie. Then I listened to two episodes of Cabin Pressure, where one of the main characters is named Arthur, and every time they say his name it makes me think I should watch Arthur.
So the upshot is that I have downloaded the (original) Arthur movie and I’m going to watch that. But I will get back to Cabin Pressure soon! That show is definitely going in the folder of Britcom that I’ll give my dad for Christmas this year, as I’ve spent the last few years repaying him for raising me on this stuff by giving him back a stream of more comedy than he could ever watch or hear (don’t worry, I’ll get him a proper gift too). I am, to be honest, surprising myself a bit by how much I’m enjoying it.
In the meantime, though, I’ll let you all know if the Arthur movie is any good now that I’m over the age of about ten. Some things I enjoyed when I was ten have really held up, and some very much have not.
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lttleghostlemon · 2 years ago
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Background sobbing (long post sorry)
At least once everyday for the past almost three weeks, my mind has liked to remind me that later this year we will see the end of Ghosts.
As I said to my friend a few days ago, I've never been apart of a shows death, i've known of many show deaths going on around me but was never apart of its fandom. Ghosts will be the first show I will watch lay on its death bed and its the oddest thing to me. No, I have not been apart of the fandom since 2019, but it has been a while. At least 2-3 years its been apart of my life on and off again.
This show has made me laugh and sob so fucking much and overall made me so happy to see. When I was able to watch s4 I watched every episode in one night, one single sitting, I don't think I ever got up. But when I watched the last episode I wasn't sad that it was over, because I was not expecting that to be its end, nor was I expecting another season. I did not expect anything for what came after so I wasn't sad when I finished it. But I'm sad now before season five even comes out because I know it will have its end. I know as soon as I watch the final episode (unless we get a christmas special) that I will never see it the same way again. No matter how many times I rewatch this silly goofy show, I will never watch its last episode and not expect anything yet.
But in writing this, I've realized we can all be sad, but I think we should also spend more time loving the show, excited for what's to come, excited to see how beautiful S5 will be. This thing that makes us all laugh and sob and overall happy to see. Because if we all went around moping about our soon to come death we'd never get anything done. We can be sad after it ends but no use being sad for what's about to happen, we can't stop it so why not appreciate the run its had.
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im-no-jedi · 1 year ago
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I’ve been pondering why writing has gotten so difficult for me over the past few months, and I think I can break it down into several factors at this point
the first (and potentially biggest reason) is definitely burnout. or I guess betrayal. idk what term to use. but TBB season 2 literally stomped out the drive and passion I previously had while writing MLWTBB. not only did I become consumed with new ideas from all the new content, but Plan 99 straight up crushed me to the point where it’s been hard to return to the series in general. I used to rewatch an episode of the show at least once or twice a week. I rewatched the first season at least 7-8 times. the show was my entire life, literally. and now… I can honestly say, I haven’t rewatched most of season 2. outside of the first five episodes, “Retrieval”, and “Pabu”, I haven’t rewatched any other episodes. I’ve rewatched certain scenes for gif purposes, but that’s it. quite sad, really. I’m disappointed in myself 😞
another reason is loss of a proofreader for my stories. not gonna get into it, but there's currently only (1) person in the entire world who I trust to proofread my work, and they basically wanted a break from the position. and that hurt me more than I thought it would. I had someone regularly reading my stories and giving me feedback, which I needed. not because I had a ton of errors (although sometimes that's true LOL), but because I had a regular reader. someone who was frequently commenting and discussing my stories with me. and I sorely need that. as far as I know, I don't have any regular readers. I've discussed elements of my stories with other friends but... it's not the same. it's like infodumping about a TV show to someone who's never seen it. sure, I'm getting the info out, but when the other person has seen the content too, it's a much more satisfying feeling. I very much desire both validation and interaction in regard to my stories. I've gotten a few nice comments on some of my work before, but... nothing regular. I don't have any "fans" or anything like that. and... it genuinely sucks 💔
which leads me into my next point. which is something I used to tell myself, and I need to start telling myself again. at the end of the day, nobody will ever be as big of a fan of my stories as myself. I originally wrote MLWTBB for me and me exclusively. I literally only started sharing it publicly because Skylar asked LOL. it's easily become one of the highest achievements of my life, and it's nowhere near finished yet. I realized I started becoming more self-conscious about how I write since posting the series publicly, and I can see it in how I currently write compared to back then. that needs to stop. I'm never gonna get anything finished with that mentality. so I seriously need to adjust my mentality about it. I need to go back to August 2021 when I first started writing it and tell myself "idc if anyone else in the world sees this, I'm writing this story for me". so while I strongly desire (and in some cases, need) the engagement and validation from others... nobody else's opinion matters more than my own. and I too often forget that...
so how do I fix all this? well, the last point is pretty self-explanatory. the solution for that is simply to just write. doesn't matter if the quality is "good enough", I just need to get these dadgum stories out of my head and into concrete words. I think that'll help with the first point as well. writing out more of my interpretations of the characters I hold so dear should help deter from any negative thoughts about the current state of the canon (and hold me off until season 3 comes LOL). as for the middle point, I don't think there's much I can do about that, at least when it comes to MLWTBB. however, I've been planning on opening writing requests for literally weeks now, and I think now might be the time to actually do it. that way, I can at least get that feeling of validation for my writing that I so desperately desire.
one other point I think I need to address is entirely on my part, and it's in relation to the engagement factor. I fully acknowledge that more often than not, engagement on fiction is a two-way street. several of my friends and followers are writers themselves, and I see all the content they put out. but to be perfectly honest, I'm more of a writer than a reader. I'm extremely picky about all the content I consume, which means I don't often have the capacity to engage with fanfiction, no matter who's written it. heck, Ham's had a story I've been meaning to read for months now, and I just haven't ever been able to bring myself to doing it. it's nothing personal!! whoever the author is has literally nothing to do with whether or not I engage with something!! I just honestly, really and truly, am not much of a reader. I enjoy rereading my own stuff... and that's about it. although, I've been gifted stories before, and OMG I treasure those so much. but I think that's because those stories were written for me, as a gift, and all gifts are precious to me. so I guess I need to accept the fact that I probably won't get much engagement on my work simply because I don't engage with others. and that's ok. I'm not hurting anyone by doing this (although if this is a problem for you, please let me know, I don't wanna unintentionally insult or hurt anyone 🥺). and maybe someday, I'll actually get the bug up my butt to finally read the things I promised to read haha
so! all this to say, an attempt will be made to relight the writing spark within me so I can continue my beloved MLWTBB and potentially write some fun stuff for the people who request something from me. I've actually already written a thing for a friend as a test for my upcoming requests, and I can't wait to share that one 😁
writers block be damned!! I'm going to write and continue to write until my brain stops functioning. deal with it, Palpatine 😤
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wellhalesbells · 2 years ago
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5, 10, 17 & 20 for the ask 😁
5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son
I sure have not, mainly because if I did it would be, how you say, very short. I tend to listen to... one song, over and over and over and over and over again. It usually lasts me through an entire week, sometimes longer, before I have to switch to something new. If I ever do.
10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?
The latter kind of dictates the former. Sometimes it is so obvious, and it's been obvious since I started, and sometimes I am left sitting there going: I could post this if I could just think of what to friggin' call it. For stories that I have to keep coming back to, it usually happens very organically. I edit. A lot. Coming back to a doc repeatedly and having it be called something truly psychotic and horribly mis-identifying (as it always starts), I'll usually realize what it should be called well before I'm finished. But like with the last fic I posted, I wrote it quickly and I was left with a fic that didn't have a name hours after it was done and I ended up snagging it from an episode of the show I was watching because I dON'T KNOW AND I GIVE UP.
17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?
Oof. I have no idea. Do people remember specific lines they've written? I really tend to just remember vibes, atmosphere that I've crafted well enough that when I think of that story that's what fills my mind about it or colors that pop when I think of it. I don't know, it's hard to describe, but when I think of it, it has a unique footprint in my brain. Its own shape and feeling and taste associated with it. Oh! But I can tell you that this line about Boyd from AAYbtDoM makes me laugh out loud literally every damn time I read it:
"He was still trying to breathe normally when Scott noticed Boyd sitting down on the grass, legs spread out and pressing the sole of his boot up against a dead hunter’s to see if they had comparable shoe sizes."
Every. Damn. Time. For context: absolutely the most dramatic crap is happening in the foreground, Stiles and Derek nearly just died, Scott's barely holding onto his panic about that, they've just defeated the Monster of the Week but in the background, Boyd is just all chill, sprawled out on this grass with the level of gravitas that a five-year-old would have on it, that same 'I'm gonna tear out grass and rain it down between my outstretched legs, toes of his boots lazily rocking back and forth' energy, looking for new--well, admittedly ~slightly used shoes from people who no longer need their shoes. The juxtaposition kills me.
20. what is your favorite trope to write?
Honestly, whichever character is the stoic, emotionally constipated beefcake in my ships, I'll muss 'im up with some jealousy. Just a 'here are complicated emotions, go forth and conquer.... or stand there in a corner with an eye twitch and insides squirming while telling yourself you don't care about this at all' moment. It is always glorious.
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