#within the week someone will probably have made a duet with those two

[flecks-of-stardust]

latine unparalleled innocence

[the-tubort]

No one else is doing it like DonBrothers is

I dont even know where to begin about how amazing Avataro Sentai DonBrothers is. From the insane drama, beautiful and subtle character writing, to the outlandish comedy, there is very little in DonBrothers that flops.

Now I have only seen about 10-12 episodes of Jetman so I cannot speak as to how insane that story gets, but seeing Toshiki Inoue's writing in this season is truly like being hit by a truck and then getting up to only be blown up by a pipe bomb the truck left behind in the most positive way possible. The way he crafts this story that has very little exposition at all and 34 episodes in still has not given the characters a proper full on explanation of what's going on, where their powers came from, who they're supposed to be fighting, and what is supposed to be an end goal is truly something else. And yet it works. As opposed to the previous years amazing Zenkaiger where the plot wasn't the major focus because the character writing and subtle plot threads were the driving force (I deeply miss seeing the zenkaigers being goofy every week). But DonBrothers utilizes it's intentional lack of exposition as a reason to keep watching week to week and it's amazing. They don't go on to promise secrets will be revealed to keep teasing and lying to the audience but instead you never know what could be dropped in an episode or what hints may lie for the future.

I dont think anyone expected Kijino to go full on tsundere just because let that one Hitotsuki be destroyed by Sonoi or at least not in the way he did this episode. We had seen turn into a monster twice over Miho and we had even seen him go so far as to try and have a duel over Miho with the fake InuBrother but those situations being treated and resolved in such a joking manner nothing felt real.

That is of course until episode 34.

And not even just Kijino but every single character has been slowly shifting and changing in subtle ways that almost doesn't feel real. Haruka has done a complete 180 from her episode 1 debut and is a loyal friend and supporter to those she cares about, she recognizes the kind of love and support she really values, she even has began to rethink what kind of author she wants to be and what kind of story she wants to tell. I've talked a bit about her character back when episode 10 aired and really made me love her, but she has continued to be such an amazing character in a way that I never expected her to be.

Saruhara also adds to this by not just being a goofy guy, but someone who's strange wisdom has allowed for the other characters to think differently and reflect on their own lives. The tale of the other SaruBrother is a great episode, not just because it's hilarious, but it provides amazing focus on HOW Saruhara positively affects people and changes their lives for the better. His character is probably the more simplistic of the cast but he's so genuinely interesting in how his simplicity adds to the depth of the other characters.

The main obvious draw of DonBrothers is obviously the most insane gay relationship drama between Sonoi and Tarou and that in itself at this point could be a huge essay so I'm not going to talk about it much but just know there is a reason these two got the gayest character song duet.

But even after that we still have other characters like Jirou who is quite frankly, one of the most insane 6th rangers I've ever seen in the way that at no point is it ever clear that he is a part of the team. Even with the most standoffish and rude 6th rangers, there is a clear point where they do join the team and become an integral character that the cast and people watching grow to appreciate. However, Jirou sticks out as this character who feels like he deserves his own 50 episode side story because he's just so ridiculous but also amazing. Within the nearly 20 episodes he's been a part of, he's been shunned, verbally and physically abused by his teammates, briefly accepted, questioned (by the others and he's even begun to question himself), and constantly been treated like a joke by everyone his whole life and yet still WANTS to be someone others can trust and rely on. The fact that his all or nothing winner takes all feral personality was the original Jirou and the nice Jirou came as a result of his bonds with the others from his hometown is insane and yet there is still something so compelling about the way he tries not to falter in his chosen path. He is constantly at odds with everyone and himself but wants to keep trying and keep getting better.

Even his combination with the others into Toradora Onitaijin isn't even treated as a the whole party is here combination, they're labeled as a great rivalry. It's just insane to me how Jirou was written and is this enigma of the group where it is not clear AT ALL where he's headed. And to add to this Don Murasame just appearing out of nowhere to add to the insanity and even adding his own confusing relationship with his mother and even Jirou is just????

DonBrothers has a thousand moving parts and pieces all shuffling around in a blink of an eye while Inoue at the very top is playing 7D chess and we're all the way the bottom trying to play chutes and ladders. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

---------------------------

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

[neoheros]

how would haikyuu boys handle getting shipped with a friend on tiktok? feat. kuroo tetsuro

kuroo tetsuro has a crippling tiktok addiction and he’s in denial about it but everyone around him knows because all he does in his free time is get on that app

that’s canon i’m not arguing with anyone about this

he’s the kind of guy to fall asleep from scrolling through his fyp and the moment he wakes up he looks for his phone under his pillow to watch more lmaooo

so anyways

you share classes with him and he’s not really the kind of guy to have crushes especially on people he’s not close with

but then one day he’s on his fyp and he stumbles on one of your videos

and he’s just like ?? woah

he recognizes you obvi, he’s not one to talk to people out of his friend group but he’s not completely ignorant to everyone else

he immediately sees that you have indeed quite the following and have almost majority of your posts going viral

so yea you can say he’d notice you more in class now

at first it was subtle, looking at you more when he’s spacing out or paying close attention to you when you’re reciting

he doesn’t even notice how he includes you more in his thought process until the day kenma pointed it out to him how he’s been a bit more distracted lately

he brushed it off thinking it wasn’t really anything serious

but then boy Oh boy !!!

he started noticing the fact that you’ve got a really nice room in your vids and your fave led lights are the red ones since you almost always use them

he’s also really into the fact that you upload more on comedic videos than dancing ones

but HONEY when you posted your take on the dance trend of savage by megan thee stallion ,,, he was GONEEEE !!!

he sent that video to kenma like five times in a row with the caption “aha brb gonna LIVE for this woman 😗✌️”

kenma be like: simp city population - u

at this point he just accepts it, like flat out he took it within himself to UNDERSTAND how much he’s crushing on you and kenma asks him if he’s gonna do anything about it and he’s like ????

like he gets how awesome he is and stuff cause duh captain of the volleyball team and most probably the most beautiful man on campus but you’re also really good in class and very attractive

not to mention that you’ve never even looked his way before

he was hurt, man !!

only he could feel as rejected as someone who actually did get rejected

nevertheless, he got over that and just woke up one day telling himself that he was gonna shoot his shot anyway !!

so one day in class, right after the lunch bell rang, he took a deep breath and rummaged his insides for every drip of confidence he could muster

he walked to your seat and you were kinda surprised because this boy right here has never once talked to you before

his opening line was “can i sit here?”

you were still really confused but then he said something about wanting to be friends and your heart was just really warm cause !!!! that’s so NICE !!

and he mentioned how he knew you from tiktok since you practically lived on his fyp

you were really embarrassed and he got to see in action how your ears turn really red when you get shy

kuroo, internally: “that’s so FUCKEN CUTE !!!!!”

he had to reassure you that it was indeed really cool that you made bomb ass tiktoks

you were so grateful cause like one minute you were having a terrible day because of your stupid teacher then bam this 6’2 beauty of a man came swooping in telling you you were terrific

you two became friends after that and it made you really happy to have someone as cool as kuroo as your best friend

kuroo likes to sit with you at lunch except when you’re with other people then he gets a bit dejected so he’s just “well damn maybe tomorrow then”

it’s all good though cause he has invited you to numerous of his practices and that’s when you SEE how amazing this man is at volleyball

one day you’re like “hey wanna do a tiktok with me?”

and he’s like “the one where you kiss me?”

you, flushed: DIPSHIT WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT !!!!1!1!1!!

you guys do the one where you dance to supalonely by benee

it went OFF !!! 700k likes and a solid ass 2.7M views because apparently the viewers really like it when kuroo dances next to you in his varsity uniform and has sweat dripping on his forehead

your comments for the next two weeks are just like “bro post another one with kuroo please PLEASE”

kuroo: guess people just like me more :)

you: leave my mentions <3

sometimes you’d get people replying to your videos with “you and kuroo look really good together”

you see them but you most likely ignore it because even if you did know how much you liked kuroo, you didn’t wanna jeopardize the friendship, yk?

anyhow due to popular demand, you include him in your videos again and every time you do they always go viral !!!

it’s very cute especially when you do the ones where you snapchat him song lyrics and he answers even if he does know it’s a trend

“can they please just get together already, we all know they’re pining but they’re too coward to say it !!”

you: ok u know what user9728182829 since u’r so good at this why don’t u be the one to make tiktoks at a volleyball court and dodge all those stray balls 😤

you were so fed up with it that you actually tell kuroo about the entirety of tiktok shipping the two of you together

he was worried that you were upset because people liked you and him dating that he thought maybe you just weren’t into him

BUT THEN !!!

because of the corona virus all the schools shut down and people were forced to stay in their houses for quarantine

it was sad that everything got cancelled and you weren’t allowed to see your friends anymore

but that’s ok cause kuroo insisted to facetime everyday

you: why can’t we just text

kuroo: because what if you forget what i look like 🥺

you: hey i’m not that blessed ❤️

it was like the quarantine never happened since you still saw and talked to him everyday

sometimes he’d show up at your place but refuse to come inside cause social distancing

this mfer threw rocks on your glass window just to get your attention once

kuroo: i got you those edible cookie dough in pints !!

you: omfg 🥺👉👈

then he chucks it at you because he ain’t boutta break the law to get you food 😤

it’s ok though you have really good reflexes and it only hit your elbow the first 2 times !!

you got it all on camera and posted it on tiktok and everyone in the comments were LIVID at the fact that you captioned it with “best friends b like”

“i just know that kuroo is punching the air right now.”

“imagine risking the corona and still being friend zoned.”

“when you realize kuroo is actually the president of simp city.”

other times he’d snap you at 3 in the morning asking if you want anything from starbucks

no one:

your snapchat dms at 3:28 am: you really went to bed you SN A KE !!

and when you wake up the next morning you find out that this guy is still awake and that he’s been chilling in the starbucks parking lot all morning !!!

that’s ok though because other than the fact that his sleep schedule is completely wrecked he still got you your venti strawberry acai refresher

you: thank you sm 🥺 what do i owe you

kuroo: a kiss on the cheek

you: you can have the drink back ❤️

that’s when the new tiktok trend started and people were posting the hottest guys on campus or revealing their crushes since 1st grade

you, feeling brave because school is cancelled: aight bet 😎

you do a tiktok hopping on the trend and you captioned it with “now that we aren’t coming back to school here are the boys from campus that i’d date for real”

you stall for the first 30 second by vibing to the music and when the beat drop !!

you showed a picture of kuroo and you put in the text “kinda missing him too”

you were extremely regretting this but numerous people already saw it and the comments went on and on about how unsurprising this was

press f ma’am

so one afternoon while kuroo was scrolling through his tiktok, he was surprised by the amount of notifications he was getting

cause he doesn’t even post videos ??

he’s only there to watch funny stuff and leave insulting comments on your posts cause he’s a good friend

he checks and they’re all just tags of him in this one video and he was kinda worried cause what if it was a hate post ??

but then he saw that it was yours and he’s less nervous !!!

kuroo, texting you: if you diss me in this one i’m posting the screenshot of you falling asleep on facetime

so he watches it and ??????????????

bro he went 🥺

before he messages you he went straight for the comments and !!!!!

“who knew it was kuroo before watching the whole video?”

“don’t be shy put some more photos of him !!”

“if kuroo duets this i’m gonna make sure to never fall in love unless its like this.”

“y’all he did it boys!! he graduated from the best friend zone!!”

he’s still really surprised by this and he really hopes you’re not kidding cause bro you??? like him????

thanks to that comment he saw, he decides to duet your video by using the same sound and doing the same dance with the same caption “now that we aren’t coming back to school here are the ones from campus that i’d date for real”

and they’re all just pictures of you 🥺

it blows up but before you see it on your fyp he’s already asking to facetime and when you answer you swear he’s just got the biggest smile in the world i’m :(

kuroo: lol remember when you publicly told majority of the internet how much you liked me

you: lol remember when you weren’t talking ❤️

[nashvilledreams]

My Naya, my Snixxx, my Bee. I legitimately can not imagine this world without you.

7 years ago today, she and I were together in London when we found out about Cory. We were so far away, but I was so thankful that we had each other. A week ago today we were talking about running away to Hawaii. This doesn’t make sense. And I know it probably never will.

She was so independent and strong and the idea of her not being here is something I cannot comprehend. She was the single most quick-witted person I’ve ever met, with a steel-trap memory that could recall the most forgettable conversations from a decade ago verbatim. The amount of times she would memorize all of those crazy monologues on Glee the morning of and would never ever mess up during the scene… I mean, she was clearly more talented than the rest of us. She was the most talented person I’ve ever known. There is nothing she couldn’t do and I’m furious we won’t get to see more.

I’m thankful for all the ways in which she made me a better person. She taught me how to advocate for myself and to speak up for the things and people that were important to me, always. I’m thankful for the times I grew an ab muscle from laughing so hard at something she said. I’m thankful she became like family. I’m thankful that my dad happened to have met her weeks before I did and when I got Glee, he told me to “look out for a girl named Naya because she seemed nice.” Well dad, she was nice and she became one of my favorite people ever.

If you were fortunate enough to have known her, you’ll know that her most natural talent of all was being a mother. The way that she loved her boy, it was truly Naya at her most peaceful. I’m thankful that Naya got that beautiful little boy back on that boat. I’m thankful he will have a strong family around him to protect him and tell him about his incredible mom.

I just hope more than anything that her family is given the space and time to come to terms with this. For having such tiny body, Naya had such a gigantic presence, a void that will now be felt by all of us - those of us who knew her personally and the millions of you who loved her through your TVs. I love you, Bee.

My favorite duet partner. I love you. I miss you. I don’t have words right now, just lots of feelings. Rest In Peace Angel, and know that your family will never have to worry about anything.

We started out as the closest friends and then like all new things, we went through a bit of a rocky phase. However, we stuck by each other’s side and created the most beautiful friendship built out of love and understanding. The last I had the chance to see you in person, I had left oranges outside our home for you to take. I wanted to say hi through the window but my phone didn’t ring when you called (which it never does, f*cking T-Mobile), so instead you and Josey left two succulents on our doorstep as a thank you. I planted those succulents and I look at them everyday and think of you. I still listen to your EP on repeat because from the moment I heard it, it struck me and I always wished the world knew more of your voice. You sent me over 5 dozen SnapChat videos when you and Josey woke up in the morning and I kick myself that I didn’t save one of them. You always shared recipes and I admired your love for food. We vowed to spend every Easter together, even though Covid stole this last one from us. You are and always will be the strongest and most resilient human being I know, and I vowed to carry that with me as I continue to live my life. 

You constantly taught me lessons about grief, about beauty and poise, about being strong, resilient and about not giving a fuck (but still somehow respectful). Yet, the utmost important lesson I learned most of all from you was being a consistent and loving friend. You were the first to check in, the first to ask questions, the first to listen..you cherished our friendship and I never took that for granted. 

We never took photos together because we mutually hated taking pictures...our relationship meant more than proof. I have countless pictures of our babies playing, because we shared that kind of pride and joy. So I’m showing the world a photo of our little goof balls for you, because I know that meant more than anything and they remind me of you and I. I speak to you everyday because I know you’re still with me and even though I’m feeling greedy that we don’t get more time together, I cherish every moment we had and hold it close to my heart.

There are no words and yet so many things I want to say, I don't believe I'll ever be able to articulate exactly what I feel but... Naya, you were a ⚡️ force and everyone who got to be around you knew it and felt the light and joy you exuded when you walked into a room. You shined on stage and screen and radiated with love behind closed doors. 

I was lucky enough to share so many laughs, martinis and secrets with you. I can not believe I took for granted that you'd always be here. Our friendship went in waves as life happens and we grow, so I will not look back and regret but know I love you and promise to help the legacy of your talent, humor, light and loyalty live on. 

You are so loved. You deserved the world and we will make sure Josey and your family feel that everyday. I miss you already.

She was bold. She was outrageous. She was a LOT of fun.⁣

Naya made me laugh like no one else on that set. I always said it while we were working together and I’ve maintained it ever since. Her playful, wicked sense of humor never ceased to bring a smile to my face.⁣

She played by her own rules and was in a class of her own. She had a brashness about her that I couldn’t help but be enchanted by. I also always loved her voice, and savored every chance I got to hear her sing. I think she had more talent than we would have ever been able to see.⁣

I was constantly moved by the degree to which she took care of her family, and how she looked out for her friends. She showed up for me on numerous occasions where she didn’t have to, and I was always so grateful for her friendship then, as I certainly am now.⁣

And even as I sit here, struggling to comprehend, gutted beyond description- the very thought of her cracks me up and still brings a smile to my face. That was Naya’s gift. And it's a gift that will never go away. ⁣

Rest in peace you wild, hilarious, beautiful angel.

How can you convey all your love and respect for someone in one post? How can you summarize a decade of friendship and laughter with words alone? If you were friends with Naya Rivera, you simply can’t. Her brilliance and humor were unmatched. Her beauty and talent were otherworldly. She spoke truth to power with poise and fearlessness. She could turn a bad day into a great day with a single remark. She inspired and uplifted people without even trying. Being close to her was both a badge of honor and a suit of armor. Naya was truly one of a kind, and she always will be. 💔 Sending all my love to her wonderful family and her beautiful son.

Dear Naya, 

I’m failing miserably to process this news. I always imagined old future senior moments where we would hear your infectious laughter down the hall knowing that our funny bone was in for a treat. To many people, myself included, you were the life of the party. Not only able to rock when fun was to be had after a long day but that shining friend that was always willing to listen, offer sympathy, perspective and at times, give much needed levity to any situation. 

You were a beast on the show. I admired you as I watched you nail multi page monologues that you learned moments before and pour your heart into every performance with an energy that had that snicks special written all over it. Our deep conversations about life inbetween scenes are some of my favorite moments with you. Getting to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future and with Josey’s arrival, ‘Your greatest success’ I was so happy to see your dream turn into reality. 

You deserved more. I’m so sorry but you deserved more. You gave life your all and I hope all the good that you have given to the world will be returned in abundance when you reunite with our brother in the heavenly skies. I’m so grateful for our memories. We will make sure to keep your legacy and spirit alive so Josey will grow up to know the incredible woman you were. Love you, Naya. You are already missed. Eternally. 

-HSJ

Naya and I fell into stride with such ease, she was my first friend and ally on our show. In the pilot, our characters came and went with such swiftness. Our enthusiasm brimmed with all of the unknown. We tried to grasp what the other cast members must be feeling as we were working in such separate manners. We dared to dream. What if this show worked? Wouldn’t that be something? Something was brimming, it was palpable. And thank god it worked. Naya’s magnetic talent was going to be unleashed, we just didn’t know it yet. ⁣⁣

I’ve been revisiting Naya’s performances on our show and it has brought me great joy. To work with her was a gift. There was a great deal to absorb - her work ethic, her fearlessness, her talent - supreme. Naya had a laugh that would envelop you and hold you captive. She was mesmerizing. That twinkle in her eye, her luminous smile. Naya lead with truth, humor, wit. I loved her for all of these reasons. ⁣⁣

I loved her sense of curiosity and wanderlust. I was lucky enough to be her travel partner for some of my most favorite adventures. As I write this, I’m grinning with swelling memories of a spontenaous 36 hour excursion - one might even say diversion - to Paris. With Naya, everything was possible and would often simply unfold before us, almost magically.⁣⁣

On this particular jaunt, within ten minutes of checking into our hotel, we found ourselves strolling the halls of L'École des Beaux-Arts, sipping wine from paper cups with students showcasing their latest work. It was fantastic. We were united in our commitment to discovery. And there was always a list of cleverly curated ideas in Naya’s back pocket, should we need it. ⁣⁣

I cannot make sense of this tremendous loss. I will hold onto her and these memories for the rest of time, alongside our Glee family. Please hold space for her, her family, her beautiful boy. ⁣⁣

In absolute, loving memory.

Naya The world is at such a loss and I am truly heartbroken. I still remember the day I met you. You Walked straight up to me, grabbed me by the face and drug me around until I met every single person on set, introducing me as “new booty”. You were one of the first people who made me feel like family when others saw me as an outsider. I didn’t know then that you would become my family and that’s just who you were to everyone.. A Mother, Sister, Daughter and most of all a friend. Your massive heart and bright spark is what carried our entire show, when at times we all felt like giving up. 

You always showed up for me when I needed some wisdom or was down and just needed someone to talk to. You took care of everyone around you in a way that was so warm and comforting and you sure knew how to throw a hell of a party! 

I always admired your bravery and passion to fight for what’s right even when it seemed like you were up against the world. Your spirit is contagious and you continue to make everyone you have touched a better and stronger person by knowing you. 

My favorite part of glee was getting to watch you perform and shine up close every day. You really were the pulse of that show. Anyone who was blessed enough to see and experience your raw talent knows it to be true. You’re one of the smartest and most gifted people I have ever met. There is no one like you and there never will be.

You have changed peoples lives all around the world and you continue to change mine forever. I will never forget your love and kindness. Thank you for sharing your spirit Angel.

I will miss you always. I Love you Naya

For the last 7 years the 13th of July has shattered our hearts beyond repair. There aren’t enough words to describe the pain we are feeling, we are truly heartbroken at the loss of @nayarivera .

Naya, Cory loved you so so much. He cherished your friendship more than you will ever know. From the laughs you shared, to the strength you gave him when he needed it the most. Cory truly adored you. He was in awe of your incredible talent, the way you gave everything you had to each performance; the slap in the auditorium was one of his favourite stories to share. You once said Cory was like a member of your family; you will always be a part of ours. We’ll carry you in our hearts forever. We miss you. Friends reunited for eternity.

We send all our love and strength to your beautiful boy, your family, friends and fans 💔🐻💔

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift’s music has always been the most interesting thing about Taylor Swift, and she’s rarely more interesting than when she’s talking about her music. You would think this would be obvious, considering she’s one of the defining singer-songwriters of her generation, but for large portions of her decade and a half career, the conversations around her have focused on just about everything else: her romances, her feuds, her aesthetics, her strategic alliances, her business calculations, her imagined politics, her actual politics, her role as a feminist icon, her role as an avatar of white fragility, her authenticity, her inauthenticity, her videography, her numerology, her cats. Last winter’s Sundance documentary “Miss Americana” allowed her to tackle most of these issues head-on, often with a frankness that we rarely saw out of the increasingly private star, but even there, Swift’s music sometimes risked getting lost in all the noise. Perhaps that’s why “Folklore,” the decidedly low-key album she recorded during quarantine and released with zero fanfare in July, felt like such a breath of fresh air. It also didn’t hurt that it was one of the best things she’s ever done. Working remotely with veteran collaborator Jack Antonoff and new producer/co-writer Aaron Dessner (best known as the guitarist for sad-dad-rock mainstays the National), Swift used “Folklore” to cast off the spectacle, the commercial calculations, and the meta-framing of her last few albums and focus instead on the fine-tuned intimacy and incisive turns of phrase that made her such a singular voice to begin with. The one thing that album was missing, however, was the immediacy of a studio setting, and so for this week’s Disney Plus release “Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions,” she’s assembled Dessner and Antonoff in person to play through each song live. Aside from some brief home videos of Swift recording the album earlier this year, the entire film takes place at the titular studio in New York’s Hudson Valley: a cozy, exposed-wood cabin situated on a picturesque piece of waterfront real estate, surrounded by chairs, string lights and fire pits where the artists can retire to sip wine and tea while discussing the day’s progress. (Frankly, the most succinct way to describe the setting would be “extremely Taylor Swift-like,” even though the studio is actually Dessner’s.) It wouldn’t be a Swift project without a few strategically teased Easter eggs — in this case, some hints about the love-triangle narrative that pops up irregularly throughout the album, and a revelation about the identity of her mysterious collaborator “William Bowery” — but the remote getaway vibe of the location mostly allows the focus to stay on the music. Directed by Swift herself, the film is handsomely mounted though never flashy, and follows a simple repeated structure: We get a drone shot of the surroundings, then a brief interlude discussing the next song, and then a performance. The discussion sections are of highly variable quality, at times offering fascinating glimpses into Swift’s creative process, and at others sounding suspiciously like the sort of rehearsed banter she might have offered from the stage of an arena tour. As the newcomer to Swift’s circle, Dessner tends to draw the most out of her in conversation, offering his own interpretations of Swift’s lyrics and opening up about his personal struggles with depression during a chat about the song “Peace.” Longtime associate Antonoff is more likely to simply “yes, and” whatever Swift is saying, which can be slightly frustrating. When she mentions that “picking a track five is sort of a pressurized decision,” you want someone to ask her to elaborate, instead of knowingly nodding. Naturally, the film’s main attractions are the performances, as the three run through each of “Folklore’s” tracks — bonus ones included — in order. None of the live renditions here are radically different from what’s heard on the record, though one can easily imagine Swiftian scholars endlessly debating the merits of each, the way Dylanologists still fight over which take of “Idiot Wind” is the canonical one. But it’s obvious that these three are enjoying the chance to once again exchange ideas in person rather than over email and Skype, and it’s impressive to watch just how thoroughly Dessner and Antonoff manage to re-create the record’s sparse yet carefully textured soundscapes with just a few guitars, a piano, some light drum machine and a solitary snare. (“Folklore’s” lone guest star, Justin Vernon, does Skype in his performance for the duet “Exile” from his own home studio, and adds enough improvised touches to keep the song from feeling overly familiar.) Perhaps the most striking element of the film is its deep focus on Swift as a singer. Back in her “Fearless” days, Swift was subject to substantial criticism for her limited vocal prowess, which was always unfair. Swift was a lyrics-first singer-songwriter long before she was a pop star, and she deserved to be considered in the company of the former rather than contrasted with the Mariah Careys of the world. Nonetheless, the control she has developed over her instrument in the years since is remarkable to behold, and Swift’s vocals sound simply lovely here. She still never allows a flourish or a tricky run to compromise the clarity of a lyric, but she knows exactly how to work wonders within her register, and she’s perfectly comfortable exploring its further reaches. On “My Tears Ricochet,” Swift gives her voice a husky edge that almost calls Chan Marshall to mind — this is probably the oldest she’s ever sounded, and it becomes her nicely. Meanwhile, she can still summon the old wide-eyed “Teardrops on My Guitar” innocence when a song calls for it, and she’s practically bouncing off her seat when “Betty” hits its big key-change at the end. Once again, it seems as though Swift envisions every album release or career move as another chapter of an elaborate, neverending bildungsroman, and “Long Pond” doesn’t give much indication of what the next one might look like. (Although she does note that “Folklore” taught her the value of songwriting that looks outward, rather than plumbing exclusively from her own experiences — for those of us left somewhat cold by her more tabloid-baiting “Reputation” period, that’s certainly a welcome note.) With this film, she just does the two things she does best: making excellent music, and giving people a new reason to talk about Taylor Swift. But at least she’s made sure that this time we’re talking about her for all the right reasons.

[vesuvianmess]

Duet for One

Character(s): Arson Kamal | Julian Devorak | Asra Alnazar | Xen Corbyn

Rating: Mature - Contains depictions of sickness, bodily fluids, and mentions of death

-

Sometimes life gives us everything we could ever ask for. But nothing lasts forever.

Two boys who turned their heads away from partners our families chose for us, brought together by chance one evening during a dinner party. I was only fifteen at the time, dressed in silks, hair swept back, and seeking an out from the crowds of adults all drinking expensive wines and discussing their son’s and daughter’s futures.

 I’d managed to slip away to my family’s library. From inside rows upon rows of books made up each wall, some with binders barely holding together, others still retaining their stark white pages. At the far end of the room rested a gilded stained glass door leading out to a garden pathway, my favorite place to be. Pushing the heavy door open I slid through. Even with the place softly lit by strings of hanging lights, it was quiet and free of guests. I remember sitting for some time, enjoying the fresh air and checking on the plethora of colors and scents that surrounded me. Unaware of how long I had lingered, the bell rang out across the estate grounds. The night was drawing to a close. I needed to return to the main hall to send off our attendees. Turning on my heel I found myself very quickly on the ground, wind knocked from my lungs as something heavy fell over me. Cracking my eyes open I noticed it was books, and they’d fallen out of the arms of a boy who couldn’t have been much younger than myself. His hair fell into his earthy brown eyes, dark as a raven’s feathers. A pair of comically big and rounded glasses sat askew from his fall. When he noticed me, he shot up and helped pull me to my feet. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken so many. I couldn’t see over them…” He fixed his glasses before bending down to gather the fallen books. 

“It’s quite alright. I should have been more aware of my surroundings.” I took a few of the books from him, evening out our stacks. “Arson, Arson Kamal. A pleasure to meet you…?” 

“Xen Corbyn, at your service.” He bowed, nearly dropping his books a second time. “We should probably get back.”

---

We had moved from my family’s estate on Xen’s twenty-third birthday. He mentioned having family there and my own family had visited often enough for various events and festivals. Every year since I was a child I would come across another around my age, perhaps a touch younger, with messy white hair and deep purple eyes. They never stuck around for long, ducking behind market stalls and seeming to disappear without a trace. Still, it had been years since those days and my memory of them was hazy. Something about them felt important. Like a small home away from home. I couldn’t place why. 

It was at our first masquerade that I proposed, at the end of a breathless dance between the two of us. Later that same night Xen had presented me with a soft pink flower from a nearby cart. Tucking it into my hair he called it an ‘azalea’ and whispered that it reminded him of me. We spent the rest of the night dancing, dipping and spinning, hand in hand we assured each other we would be together until the end of our days. 

---

It started slow, one or two dropped in the span of three months. ‘Nothing to worry about, Love.’ Xen had said, carding his fingers through my hair. His words failed to soothe the tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me to run. Something was amiss in Vesuvia, I could feel it in the wind. A faint sickly smell, like something rotting far out of sight. In the coming days, my ill feeling had been proven true. We had been in  the market when we noticed cloaked figures in masks carrying a mass covered in cloth out of a nearby home. The mass was unsettlingly human sized. 

“Xen, something is off. The air here is tainted.” My fingers held tight to a delicate teacup. “Please be safe and keep your eyes open. Take every precaution.” Perhaps I was taking this worry of mine too far. “Love, I appreciate your concern. But I’ll be fine. Fit and peachy.” He smiled back at me as he cleaned the lenses of his glasses. “There’s been nary a sighting on this side of the city.” 

“If you feel we’re safe, I trust you.” I sighed, loosening my hold. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot to mention. Do you remember that child I spoke about? The one with snowy hair I saw flitting around the market when I was young.”

“How could I not? You never stopped talking about them.” Xen gave me a soft laugh. “I wonder what happened to them.” “That’s just it, Xen. I found them. In the market. Someone had bumped into me just firmly enough to push me into a smaller booth. A fortune teller’s booth. Imagine my surprise when I recognized the soul sitting at the teller’s table.” I mused. “Their name is Asra. Finally a name to a face.”

“Oh? Perhaps it’s fate?” He teased.

---

Weeks had passed, the previous unease beginning to tug at my mind again. I could feel it somewhere in me that something was coming. Something foul. I’d heard in hushed whispers that the count had fallen ill. At first I questioned the validity of the statements, until events around the city began to cancel left and right. A good deal of them I could have done without in the first place as they were downright vile. Such acts of violence made me sick to my stomach. I would live my days in peace never seeing the count if I had been able. It was around this time I noticed Xen had begun dragging himself. I’d never seen him so tired before. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Dear? You don’t look so well, and the coughing has gotten worse.” 

“I’m fine, just a little cold is all.” He assured me. 

“Please be careful. Stay away from the crowded stalls.” 

“I will, trust me. I’ll be safe. I’m off then, Love. I’ll be back before the sun sets.” Xen hefted a bag over his shoulder. “Don’t be too lonely while I’m gone.” He smirked. “I won’t, I won’t. Bring back some ribbon if you can. I have flower arrangements to start on.” I waved him off, watching as the door closed behind him, an uneasy feeling threatening me from the depths of my mind.

-

The light of the sun was beginning to dip behind the horizon and Xen had not returned home. My fiance was never late. Something pricked my skin, a cold sensation washed over me and a feeling of dread set in. The rumors, the masked men in cloaks, the body shaped lumped wrapped in cloth… It all came to a boiling point of quiet panic within me. What if something had happened, what if Xen was hurt? I needed to know. Pulling my shawl over my arms, I made for the door. I had to find him. The twisting in my gut only grew worse when the cold air hit me. Had the city always been this cold at twilight? 

I tracked my way through the market, finding no trace of Xen. I stopped by every stall and asked if anyone had seen him. I received a few mixed answers. Some said he left towards the square, others reported seeing him on his way to the south end. I started for the square first, keeping my eyes on my surroundings in case he might pass me on his way back to the shop. When I found the square empty, aside from a few stragglers on evening walks, I turned and made way for the south end. What could he have been doing out that way? 

The sun had long since set and wind swept up around me, sending strands of hair into my eyes. I wrapped my shawl tighter around me and dipped my head low to avoid the rush of air. I rounded a corner, blocking the wind. With a sigh of relief I lifted my head. The Raven was out this way. I would ask the owner if he had seen Xen around. 

I kept my pace even and steady. I tried to keep myself calm by taking each step in time with my heartbeat. Rounding another corner, I could see the edge of the tavern’s hanging sign. I stopped short when I stepped in something wet, a sour smell filling my nose. Probably a patron who’s had a few too many and wandered off to get sick. I was about to keep moving when I noticed a pair of glasses on the ground a few feet away. Picking them up I realized they were Xen’s. Maybe....He’d just dropped them. Yes, that was it. It had to be. 

The closer I moved to the tavern, the stronger the sour smell became. But it didn’t seem like it was coming from the tavern at all. Instead, the source of the smell came further to the right. I can’t remember why, but I found myself following the scent down a small alleyway littered with old papers and empty glass bottles. A few paces in, the smell grew stronger and I again stepped in something wet. This time, it felt almost sticky. I looked down to see a deep pool of red beneath my feet, frothy and tinged with bile. I felt my stomach lurch. I gagged and covered my mouth with my hand. A creeping sense of dread ran up my spine when my eyes followed the trail to a body laying slumped in the ally. I couldn’t be. There was no way. With unsteady footsteps I approached the body and knelt down to get a better view in the darkness. As my eyes adjusted, I felt my blood run cold.

“No…” My voice caught in my throat and my palms broke into a cold sweat. “No it can't be. It isn’t. Please tell me it isn’t.” I pleaded to the empty air around me. But I knew this wasn’t some twisted nightmare. 

It was Xen. A disgusting red surrounded his eyes and soaked his hands, running up his arms like a spider’s web. How had I not noticed these marks before? Was I too busy focusing on my arrangements to notice? In his hands he held a glass bird and a spool of pale pink ribbon. My knees met with stone and bloody bile soaked into my pants as I sat there with tears running down my face. I refused to leave until the men in black cloaks came to take him away. 

---

“We need to leave the city.” Asra sat next to me on my bed. “You know now better than anyone it’s not safe here.” I did not answer. 

“Arson, we can’t stay here.” They persisted. “I can’t.” my voice sounded foreign to me. “It’s not right. It’s not fair to him. I have to stay.” 

“There’s no telling--” 

“I’m staying. I want to help find a cure for this. It’s only right that I do. He deserves that much at least.” 

The next day, Asra departed without me. I stuck true to my word and began studying the disease under a doctor named Julian Devorak. A strange lanky sort who spent his off time in the tavern. I joined in mostly for the company. I couldn’t bear going home to the empty house. 

Not even three weeks later I began to notice a change in myself. Fatigue had taken hold of me. Whether it was from overworking or not, I didn’t want to know. No matter how much I dragged, I continued to work to the best of my ability. It wasn’t until the violent coughing fits into bloody handkerchiefs hit that I knew my fate was sealed. My time to find a cure was running short. How many days I had left was a mystery. Some passed within two or three days, some lasted five or six. As my condition worsened, I locked myself up at home, flipping weakly through old journals filled with his handwriting. Scribbled diagrams of the stars in margins of research books, coffee stains, and spilled ink made the pages feel like home. 

The following evening I awoke vomiting and sputtering for air, I knew time was up. I would die before the night was over. I wanted one last dance. Humming a sweet melody to myself I started a sway. Alone in my room under the pale moonlight I danced a solemn duet made for one, the face of the man I loved flooding my mind. The tears refused to stop and whether it was a hallucination or not, I felt like he was there, his fingers intertwined with mind as I gave my final bow. 

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

ApartmentAU Masterpost 2:

Link to Previous: https://hermitcraftheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/617100021235662848/apartment-au-masterpost-everyone-lives-in-an

-Aswell as being the landlord, Xisuma is a bee keeper!

-While the top floor of the apartment IS very rundown, Xbs room is super stark from the rest of the hallway! I imagine it being super homy and welcoming despite everything else around it.

-I think x’s bees are on top of the appt where there is a roof garden. 👉👈

-Joe and Cleo's apartments are right next to each other, and if they end up showering at the same time they sing over dramatic shower duets (much to the annoyance of all the other hermits. those walls are thin.)

-The map district is just an old printer they have in the basement. When Cleo went to write the Herald on the computer there she found the Mumbo for Mayor file and had to report about it! (-🤔)

-Grian is actually a really great cook! he doesn’t cook for others very often but when he does he tends to get a lot of compliments (based on the fact that irl grian is a good cook, according to ren). In stark constrast, X is a very poor cook. Not in the ‘burns everything he touches’ kind of way, but in the ‘most bland and underwhelming chicken you’ve ever tasted in your life’ way -sapph

-oh, the hermits DEF get "Hamilton but everyone is played by Impulse". they get it every day. usually late at night or at 7 am sharp.

-Once Grian messes up and got a ton of eggs, and instead of returning them, he just did them around the others apartments and claimed it wasn’t him.

-In regards of that post of Jellie sneaking out of Scar's room. A hermit has probably tried to reenact that video of that russian guy ["Mooommm there's a weird cat outside! Looks like grandma the f*king thing!] Whenever they see Jellie just chilling on their window or at their door. -Dott.

-Grian plays saxophone; it started as a new way to annoy the other Hermits but he's actually gotten quite good at it.

-Hypno has a collection of old pocket watches.

-Joe answers any question asked within earshot. He is generally correct, even when the questions are oddly specific or about concerning topics. Sometimes he knows more about the mafia and gang stuff than actual members. When questioned on how he knows this, he cites reading books, sometimes specifically his time in Keralis' library, even when Keralis knows he doesn't have books that say that. His answers are also frequently very confusing and absurd, and make less sense the more you think about it. The hermits learned to not think too much about his answers after a while.

-Keralis and Xisuma still have the lookie lookie at my alpaca store but the alpacas are actually giant stuffed alpacas. Some hermits are too short to reach the bags on the alpacas and need to ride them to purchase stuff. Occasionally Keralis places an alpaca peeking out of a dark corner of someone's room if they accidentally leave their door unlocked. It scares the life out of Bdubs every single time.

-Joe will generally correctly answer any questions within earshot, and any means /any/. he usually won't crack if you're chatting with him directly, but sometimes when overhearing theorizing & murmurs in the halls, he /will/ pop in to spill the tea. tl;dr: hc that joe is lowkey a gossip.

-TFC has an assortment of different gems and cool looking stones in his room and if a Hermit asks where he got a specific one, he gives a unique story for it.

-zed’s “cave of contraptions” in the basement is a lot less..... sinister-looking when you actually turn the light on. It’s just a messy spare room with random parts, discarded or failed projects in random spots, and some magic kits. One time when he took a hermit down there, he just ended up making them watch him do card tricks for a half hour. -sapph

-Jevin when he cooks somehow always end up with either Jello or an other type of gelatinous meal. He once tried baking and made wiggly cookies. Nobody knows how he did it.

-Jessassin lived in the complex, but far away from the others. He was (obviously) one of the assassins from a gang, but nobody knows. He sneaky.

(All those reds are from anons!)

-The hermits' bases are actually lego sets. (With some exceptions like Iskall's omega tree of doom being a bonsai tree etc.) (-@smolpotato187.)

-Hermits always have a game night every week and the most popular game is DND. Xisuma is the dungeon master.

-Grian loves to hide at the stairwell of the apartment cause whenever he sings his voice echoes. Ren and Wels also does the same but they prefer to sing in their own rooms.

-Stress's room is at the same hall as the Grian, Mumbo, and Iskall. Stress being a sweetheart sometimes brings cookies to the boys' doors and help them around. Since she is on that hall, she is already used to Grian's pranks, Mumbo's spoon moments and yes, Iskall sneaking around in her room.

-Since Grian sings a lot on the stairwell and his voice echoes, I can imagine someone waking up in the middle of the night getting spooked cause they are hearing ‘disembodied voices’ in the air. 

(-@penumbra-rui.)

-Cleo is v awkward on her own and gives pep talks to herself every morning and pats her own back bfore she goes to bed. This is to ensure she always has some good quality conversation with any hermits she encounters.

-As a callback to s6 build-off, Stress’ room is in-between Grian’s and Mumbo’s, and occasionally the two boys would hear singing from Stress’ room. Too bad Iskall misses out on it.

(-@heyitsroby.)

-Maybe false is good at fencing? I don't watch her, but I know she's good at PvP.

-Speaking of time (the hypno one) maybe the apartments are separated according to their timezones? This may not work based on previous asks or just better ideas, but it did pop in into my head.

(-@cabbagesenpai.)

-Maybe Iskall doesn't have a robot eye thing on his face, but rather a pair of glasses, of which one of the lens' is coloured blue. He liked the look of it so much that when he got a new pair of glasses, he ordered for one side to be green. Either that or he comissioned some kind of futuristic monocle for the hell of it. (-@oh-hecc-im-stupid-af.)

-TFC is a retired coal-miner. (-@tomcatacaphe)

[violetwolfraven]

Plumber

I have noticed that there is a chronic shortage of newsbians in this fandom and also a shortage of appreciation for Katherine or Sarah in general, so here goes nothing with some newsbians angst that nobody asked for. Modern AU if that wasn’t obvious.

...

Sarah Jacobs considered herself to be a pretty smart person. After all, not just everyone could pull off memorizing all her lines for the school play within the first week, all AP classes, and out-debate her twin brother (who happened to be a genius) on a daily basis.

Which was why it was so significant that she was going 15 mph over the speed limit just after midnight on fucking Halloween night.

Because Sarah was smart, and doing that was dumb, and normally, she would not be one to do dumb things.

All she really knew was that Jack had called Davey, told him to put him on speaker phone, and then said something in a 100% serious voice, which, for Jack Kelly, was rare. Jack nearly always joked around and smiled even if he didn’t actually feel like joking around or smiling, so if he wasn’t, that meant that something was bad. As in, ‘someone is dead or seriously hurt bad.’

“Sarah’s there, right? Good. You both need to get to my house right now. It’s Katherine.”

They’d gotten in their shared car right away and started driving. Davey had texted their mom when they were already halfway out of their neighborhood.

Sarah was trying to focus on the road and think of what she knew.

Kath wasn’t dead. If she was, Jack would have been crying.

Kath wasn’t too badly hurt. If she was, Jack would have told them to meet him at the hospital.

That was all she really knew. And that left a lot of possibilities that Sarah really didn’t need to think about.

Jack’s house was normally 20 minutes away. Thanks to Sarah’s manic driving, the Jacobs twins got there in just under 15.

Race, one of Jack’s three younger adoptive brothers, was waiting on the porch, uncharacteristically serious.

Sarah wanted to ask, but it was like her voice was stuck in her throat.

“Talk to us, Racer,” Davey said immediately, “How bad is it?”

“It’s bad,” Race said grimly, “Have you ever seen Kath cry? Ever?”

“No,” Davey muttered. Sarah could only shake her head.

Katherine Pulitzer was one of the strongest people she knew. It was one of the things that had made Sarah fall in love with her.

“Yeah, I’s known her since 6th grade and I haven’t, either. But she’s cryin’, now. A lot.”

“What happened?” Sarah asked, finally finding her voice, “Is she alright?”

Race sighed, “That depends on your definition of ‘alright,’ but physically, she’s fine.”

Sarah and Davey exhaled in relief. It was probably not the best time to run off on random trains of thought, but it was when they did things like this that made Sarah note how much body language they really shared.

“Her parents kicked her out.”

“What?!” Sarah exclaimed.

“They found out about you and her and kicked her out. She’s—“

Sarah wasn’t listening anymore. She was just moving past Race, opening the door to the Larkin house and running down the hallway where—

Where Katherine was sitting on the couch, crying on Jack’s shoulder as he tried in vain to comfort her.

Jack looked up and saw her, “Saz, thank God! Kath, look, it’s Sarah.”

Sarah fought the urge to vault over the back of the couch, walking around it instead to put her arms around her girlfriend, “Shh, Kitty, it’s...”

Only Sarah was allowed to call Katherine ‘Kitty.’

And she really wished she could say it was okay, but it wasn’t. This was a circumstance that every gay kid had nightmares of.

Damn. Sarah hadn’t thought it would happen to anyone in their friend group.

“Oh, you’re both here, already. Good.”

Sarah tried to pay attention to what Medda was saying while simultaneously comforting her girlfriend.

“I’ve already got Crutchie, Racetrack, and Romeo helping me clean out our guest room,” she said, “And Katherine, kiddo, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Sarah, I can see you’re needed here, so Davey, why don’t you make a grocery list? You’re the only boy who lives with a girl.”

Jack moved to stand up, “Should I help—“

Kath grabbed his arm, pulling him down next to her again and he stopped.

While Sarah was her girlfriend, Jack was probably her oldest friend. He was kind of the dad friend of the group, the one who always took care of everyone. Sarah didn’t blame her for wanting to keep him close.

“Okay,” he said quietly, sitting back down, “I’ll stay.”

“What do you... already have?” Davey asked hesitantly, but Kath was still crying too hard to answer.

“She didn’t get to bring more than a couple outfits and a toothbrush,” Medda said.

Though her tone was fairly calm, Sarah could read anger in her as clear as day; the rage of a mother who couldn’t understand disowning your child for something they couldn’t control.

Sarah was angry, too, and she let her arms around Kath tighten a bit.

Davey nodded, “Okay. It’s gonna be okay, Kath. I think I know what you should need.”

He sat down at the table to start on the grocery list as Medda went to go back to cleaning out the guest room.

Sarah had to admit, she didn’t have much experience in comforting crying people. She knew that her good friend, Spot, often came to her with issues, (and she came to him with her own in return) but he wasn’t the crying type.

She hated how Jack and Davey were the ones doing most of the comforting, since she didn’t know how, as the former sat beside her and the latter crouched in front of her, both talking in calming tones as Sarah just hugged her girlfriend and tried to think of something to say.

Kath was calming down, but only marginally. It might be okay to try to distract her at this point.

“Do you want to just let it all out?” she asked quietly, “Or should I put on a movie or something?”

Kath didn’t respond for a second.

“Kitty, I need you to tell me what you want.”

Kath took a shaky breath and managed to half-sob out an answer, “A movie sounds good.”

“Okay,” Jack said, “How ‘bout I put one in, and Saz can stay here with you, okay?”

Katherine nodded, still shaking a little.

Jack got off the couch and started up the DVD player.

“You need to join the 21st Century and get a streaming service or two, Kelly,” Sarah teased, figuring normalcy would probably be good.

“Fuck you, Jacobs. DVD players were our childhood.”

“Yeah. Were. And now they’re becoming obsolete.”

“Should we watch the Greatest Showman or Moana?”

“The fact that you’re changing the subject tells me I won.”

“Sarah,” Davey said reproachfully as he settled on the couch, leaving space for his boyfriend, “Jack. I love you both, but please shut the fuck up and pick a damn movie. They’re terrible, aren’t they, Kath? Why do we even keep them around?”

Kath shrugged, laughing a laugh that was still halfway crying.

“Fine,” Sarah said, “The Greatest Showman. It’s a great musical and I think we all need those kinds of vibes right now.”

“I can get behind that,” Jack said, putting the DVD in.

Katherine wasn’t crying anymore, just cuddling into Sarah’s side, by the end of A Million Dreams.

“Guest room is all cleaned out when you’re ready, Katherine,” Medda said, coming in, “And I’m going to make this clear right now that you’re welcome to stay as long as you want, either until your parents get their heads out of their butts or for forever. I’ve actually been thinking about taking in another kid, given that my boys are all big enough not to need so much attention anymore, and I’m more than happy to make that kid you if you’d be alright with that.”

Kath blinked, startled, “Th... thank you.”

“I’m gonna go to bed, unless you need me, sweetie..?”

“No thanks, Medda. I’m okay.”

“Boys?”

“We’re good, Mama,” Jack said with a tired smile.

“Okay, then. Try to get some sleep tonight.”

“We will, Mama.”

“Our mom said we can stay the night, so I’ll make sure they do,” Davey said.

“Of course you will, Davey. Good night, kids.”

Crutchie and Race came in as Medda left.

“Race and I are gonna run to the store,” Crutchie said, “Davey, got that grocery list?”

“Isn’t it like 1:00 AM?” Kath pointed out.

Race shrugged, “I knows places that should be open. We can probably find most of everythin’ on the list tonight.”

“We probably ain’t gonna sleep tonight, anyway, so might as well be productive about it,” Crutchie agreed.

“Grocery list is on the counter,” Davey called from where he was cuddling with Jack on the opposite end of the couch from Kath and Sarah. Romeo came and cuddled into Jack’s other side, though the youngest Larkin brother looked half-asleep.

“Great,” Crutchie said, glancing at the list as he grabbed the keys to Jack’s car, “Jack, we’re borrowin’ your car.”

Race saluted over his shoulder, putting that godforsaken kazoo he always seemed to have in his mouth as he and his big brother left.

From there, Sarah tried to just focus on cuddling with her girlfriend and watching the movie, but the next time she looked over to check on the boys, all three were asleep.

So much for Davey making sure we all get some sleep.

Katherine followed her gaze, seeing them curled up together, Jack’s head on Davey’s shoulder with Romeo sprawled across their laps.

Sarah saw her smile a bit at how cute they were.

Oh, well. She was relatively stable, now. It was as good a time as any ever would be.

“Do you want to talk?” Sarah asked softly, trying not to wake the boys.

Zac Efron and Zendaya finished up their duet on the tv before Kath responded.

She sighed, “I saw it coming. I knew it would happen if they ever... when they found out.”

“You never told me.”

“I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is.”

Sarah groaned, still trying to stay quiet, “Not this again.”

Katherine had a tendency not to share her problems with anyone. She had an issue with thinking that just because she was privileged, her feelings didn’t matter.

And yeah, Kath had never had to deal with physical abuse. She was white and wasn’t especially obvious in being a lesbian, and her family was well enough off that she’d never had to worry about money. Growing up, she’d had pretty much anything she wanted.

But she’d been walking on eggshells with her parents for years. Her crushes weren’t the only things she’d had to keep secret. They had never supported her as a writer or in anything.

And it wasn’t like mental illness gave a damn how many advantages you had in life, anyway.

“They called me slurs tonight,” Kath said softly, “I think my mom looked up lesbian slurs specifically to use today. That’s why I didn’t pack everything I needed. I couldn’t stay in that house any longer. I just stuffed what I could in my backpack and got in my car and drove.”

“They don’t deserve you,” Sarah said forcefully, “Fuck your parents, Kitty.”

A smile flickered across Katherine’s face, “Thanks, I guess.”

Sarah sighed, “I’m sorry. I’m just... angry. I... I can’t even imagine. I was scared when Davey and I decided to come out, but I can’t imagine what I would have done if our parents hadn’t been supportive.”

“I can,” Kath said, quietly but confidently, “The Jacobs twins would’ve joined forces to verbally obliterate them, then came here, like I did.”

“So, you verbally obliterated your parents?”

Kath’s smile dropped, “No. I... I couldn’t. I’ve never been good at pulling arguments out of thin air. I need to write them down first, and... well, Mom and Dad didn’t give me a chance to.”

“That’s okay. Write an article on unsupportive parents and put it in the school paper.”

“Ah, yes. That’ll solve all my problems.”

Sarah sighed. She knew it couldn’t. No article could make Katherine’s parents stop being pieces of shit. They’d made their choice, and nothing could fix this.

“Should I have come to your house?”

Sarah thought about it, then slowly shook her head, “No. We don’t have a guest room and our couch isn’t big enough. My parents wouldn’t trust you to sleep in the same room as me, so they’d probably have you bunk with Davey. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

At that, Kath laughed quietly, and Sarah wished she could take away the pain hiding behind that smile.

When it faded, she could see that she wanted to say something, but was gathering strength to get her point across.

“I’m going to change my name.”

“Okay... that seems like a decision for tomorrow morning.”

“I’ve thought about it before, Saz. I think I would have done it when I moved out, even if this didn’t happen. My father is a terrible person and my mother is complacent. If I keep their name, I’m always going to be saddled with their legacy.”

“Okay,” Sarah nodded, “Yeah.”

“Do you think it’s crazy?”

“No. I still think you should think critically about it after a night of sleep, but if you don’t want that name, you should get rid of it. What would you change it to?”

Katherine shrugged, “Probably a bit early to change it to Jacobs.”

Sarah froze.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. Saz, I—“

“Katherine, you smooth motherfucker.”

At that, they both had to try to keep their laughter quiet so as not to wake the boys.

“Seriously, though, what’ll you change it to?” Sarah asked, “I mean, I’m sure you could go with Larkin, if you wanted to. Medda seems pretty ready to adopt you.”

Katherine shook her head, “No. I mean, Medda has done a lot for me, even before this—being the mother of four of my best friends and really the only supportive adult in my life—but I don’t see her as my mom.”

“Kelly, then? Jack and Davey have practically adopted everyone else in our friend group who needed parenting.”

Kath laughed, “Katherine Kelly? No. Alliteration looks bad on paper.”

“It literally does not, but okay, I guess.”

“It does to me.”

“You’re a writer, Kitty. You know how good of a literary device alliteration is.”

Katherine shrugged, “I still don’t particularly feel like using it in my name. But... how does Katherine Plumber sound?”

“It sounds fine,” Sarah said, “Why Plumber, though?”

Katherine shrugged, “It’s close enough that I won’t forget to answer to it. Is that a dumb reason to choose a name?”

“You should give it some more thought in the morning,” Sarah admitted, “But no. You came up with it. That makes it yours, and...”

Sarah leaned in a little closer, smiling a bit at how Kath didn’t pull away.

“I love you no matter what your name is, Katherine Plumber.”

“I love you, too, Sarah Jacobs.”

The kiss they shared was quick but soft, and when they were done, Kath cuddled a little more into Sarah’s side so they could finish the movie.

Maybe they fell asleep before it ended. But that was okay.

[ericsonclan]

Marlon is a Doodie Head

Summary: Sophie writes a letter to her twin sister Minnie to process everything that has happened.

Word Count: 1000+

Read on AO3:

Start from the beginning of the series: here

Sophie sat alone in the sleeping room the girls had been using since they came to Ericson Farm. She’d been feeling agitated in the past few days ever since Marlon and Mitch had returned from the hunting cabin. Thankfully both of them had possessed the good sense to mostly keep their distance from the girls, staying in the barn and busying themselves with chores. Still, the fact that they were just a building away had Sophie’s skin crawling whenever she thought of it. Some nights she could still feel Marlon’s hands as he held her down underneath that quilt. The day he’d arrive back at the farm, she’d noticed that the broken nose she’d given him had healed crooked. She was glad to know he’d always carry that mark as a reminder of what he’d done.

Sitting at the desk by the window, Sophie had a quill pen and some paper before her. She was doing what she always did on a weekly basis: writing a letter to her twin sister Minnie. This would be the fourth letter in a row that remained unsent, tucked beneath her bed until one day she had access to a post office once more. By now news of what had happened must have reached her sister. Sophie was sure Minnie must be frantic. Perhaps she had even considered travelling back West to find Sophie herself. Not that there was any way into the valley until the end of spring. For now, the letters served as an outlet for Sophie’s emotions, a way for her to feel that she still had a voice of her own amidst all the turmoil.

Minnie,

Marlon and Mitch came back today. I wished they had stayed away longer. The only thing that makes my anger at their return more bearable is how happy it made the little boys. A.J., Willy and Tenn have been practically clinging onto their legs at all times since they returned. It’s clear how much they missed them, and Marlon and Mitch seem to feel the same. The whole thing makes me upset that I’m watching these events play out from captivity. If I had come here under different circumstances, I think I would have truly enjoyed my time at Ericson Farm.

Some loud cries from outside had Sophie glancing out the window. Willy, Louis and Aasim had circled a tree and were trying to talk Garbage, Willy’s possum, out of it. The possum seemed unimpressed by their pleas, hissing down at them menacingly. The scene brought a small smile to Sophie’s face. Things certainly weren’t dull here. There was always something going on. Sophie continued her letter.

How is your flatmate doing? I’m glad you were able to find someone so soon after moving out East.  From what I’ve heard so far, Renata sounds lovely. I hope I’ll get to meet her someday when

Sophie suddenly laid down her quill. When what? When she escaped from this place and headed East herself? How would she get there? The original plan had been to take food, clothes and other supplies from home and head out from there, paying for a train to take her East. Once her parents rescued her from this place though, they’d likely never let her out of their sight. Marlon had ruined any chance of slipping away.

Her mind wandered to the argument they’d had before Marlon ran off. God, she wished she’d thrown those chamber pots at him when she’d had the chance. Claiming that he just wanted her to be free to make her own decisions and that was why he’d taken her? Did this look like freedom to him? If Marlon had really wanted to help her, he should have snuck her out to the train station, not some snowed in farm in the middle of nowhere. If he’d bought her train ticket and bid her farewell, then she would have believed his motives were selfless. From there she could have rode the train all the way to Boston and…

And then what? The thought rankled Sophie, worming its way deeper into her mind. I never really thought that far ahead, did I? A week away from fleeing East and I didn’t have any idea what I’d do when I got there. Minnie would have let her stay at her place for as long as she needed. Living with her and Renata honestly sounded like it would be a lot of fun. But what would Sophie do in the hours Minnie was off working at university? Sit around and make art, but to what end? She hadn’t been able to get a scholarship to any universities out in Boston like Minnie had. Would she try to sell her art out on the streets?

A worse possibility suddenly entered Sophie’s mind. What if the scandal caused by my fleeing the arranged marriage had spread to the East coast and affected Minnie? Could she have lost her scholarship over something like that? Prestige was everything to institutions. Housing her runaway sister, while not illegal, could have ended up ruining the life Minnie had made for herself out there. Would I just have been a burden if I’d done as I planned?

The hissing had grown louder outside. Sophie looked down to see that the boys had enlisted Violet’s help. She had joined Willy in climbing up the tree to reach Garbage. Now the two siblings were trying to corner the possum in such a way that would force it to jump down into Louis’ coat that he and Aasim were holding out. A chuckle escaped Sophie’s lips. What a wild plan. She had half a mind to go out there and join them. She wanted to finish this letter though. She returned her quill to the paper.

I hope I’ll get to meet her someday when times are better. I’m not sure exactly how I would have wrangled my way out of that joke of a marriage our parents had set up for me. I know your prospects weren’t much better when they were looking for matches for you. I’m proud of you for finding a way to escape all that nonsense and still stay within the family’s good graces. If only my art skills had proved strong enough to join you out there. We could have attended university together.

Sophie envisioned what her days would have looked like within Boston. Maybe she would be able to sell enough paintings to make ends meet and get a place of her own. If need be, she’d distance herself from Minnie, at least until she had finished her studies at university, so none of the consequences of her running away would reach her sister. It seemed like a somewhat lonely existence, living alone with only her art to sustain her. She’d miss all her friends in Richmond: Brody, Ruby, Clem, Prisha…

A high-pitched scream came from below. Sophie looked down to find that the possum had successfully been driven down from the tree but had not landed in Louis’ jacket as planned. Instead it had landed upon Louis’ head, tangling its feet in his dreadlocks and hissing in an angry panic. Louis didn’t seem to be faring much better, running about with his arms flailing wildly and screaming for help. His siblings weren’t having much luck calming him or Garbage down.

She just had to capture this. Pulling out another piece of paper, Sophie began sketching out the scene before her. She tried to capture the heat of the moment, the way the possum’s eyes bulged in anger and Louis’ mouth was open wide in fear. It was certainly a picturesque moment. When Sophie had finished, she couldn’t help but giggle. Perhaps she’d gift the sketch to Louis later. He’d commented earlier on how lovely her art was when he’d spoken with her in the kitchen as she drew with Tenn. Her doodle complete, Sophie returned to the letter.

Perhaps it seems strange to say, Minnie, but I think once I leave here I’m going to miss it an awful lot. So many of the Ericsons are really nice. Of course you know Katjaa, but her husband and younger kids are kind too. I think you’d especially like Tenn. He has the makings of a great artist in him. You’d probably like Louis too. He’s a master at the piano. The two of you could do duets together. He’s played for us a couple times these past few nights. It’s a wonderful way to spend the evening.

Sophie paused in her writing. Now that she thought about it, she had something nice to say about almost all the Ericson kids. A.J. and Willy were a hoot while Omar was a complete sweetheart. She loved the soups he would make whenever someone was feeling under the weather. Violet had proved quite kind as she’d gotten to know her too. She was shy and soft-spoken for the first couple weeks, but over time Sophie had been able to pick up on her dry, biting humor as well as her softer, more thoughtful moments. Aasim was also pleasant to talk with too. She always learned something new when they spend time together. She had no idea how someone living on such an isolated, rural farm could be so well-read.

When I first came here, it seemed like the five months we’d be trapped at Ericson Farm would be a torture. When did everything become so pleasant? Sophie’s memories drifted through her mind, replaying the events of the last month. Everything had been so painful and heated at first, every word between the boys and the girls like pressing on an open wound. But one by one, the siblings had asked for the girls’ forgiveness, sincerely with no expectations of acceptance. Violet had been first and the easiest to forgive given the fact that Prisha had truly wanted to run away with her. Louis and Aasim were next, apologizing to the girls shortly after another avalanche as they attempted to excavate a path for the girls to return to Richmond had almost taken Louis’ life. Sophie knew Clementine had found the gesture hollow, but she’d appreciated the effort they had made to right their wrongs. After seeing the suffering they had willingly undertaken, she had a newfound respect for them and from there friendship had grown.

That only left Mitch and Marlon. Brody had spoken with Mitch the night the two boys had returned. From what she’d told the girls afterwards, it sounded like Mitch’s second apology was much more heartfelt and sincere. Being up at the hunting cabin for weeks had given him time to sort out his thoughts and truly understand his actions. If I hadn’t gone up to the room that night, would Marlon have said the same sorts of things to me? Would I have accepted an apology like that?

The first time Sophie had met Marlon, she’d found his candor and friendliness charming. The entire time he was trying to get a chance to dance with her, Sophie could see how much he wanted to have even a moment with her, and when their hands finally met and they got to dance for those few happy minutes, she’d found herself having the best time she’d ever had at a barn-raising. Talking with Marlon was easy, natural. She’d wished the day could go on and on so they could have as much time together as possible.

Now that was all gone. Marlon couldn’t be trusted ever again. He’d shown his true colors and how selfish a person he really was deep down. But if I was willing to listen to all the others. Should I at least give him that chance? What he’d said to her the day they’d fought had been true. Her plan of escape was shoddy. It took only seconds for the whole thing to fall apart. If Sophie had stayed in Richmond, she would have been married off to a man old enough to be her grandfather and if she’d left she’d have been dooming herself to a life with no prospects, perhaps dragging Minnie down with her in the process. Neither option was good, but for Marlon’s solution to be… this? Deception, kidnapping, brute force? She wished he’d spoken to her that night instead of tossing her on the floor of that carriage. Maybe then they could have worked something out together. Does that mean if he’d asked I would have run away with him after all? Sophie’s mind bristled at the thought. That was ridiculous.

The screaming from outside had finally stopped. The Ericson siblings were nowhere to be seen. Apparently they’d found something else besides possum wrangling to occupy their time. Sophie stood up, stretching her hands above her head. She needed a break from letter writing. She could finish later. It wasn’t like she would be able to send the letter anytime soon anyway. Spending all this time alone was putting strange thoughts in her head. She needed some company.

Sophie headed for the door, shutting it quietly behind her. Maybe Katjaa or the little boys needed help with something or the girls were back from their outside chores. With so many people around, there was sure to be plenty of things to do. As she descended the stairs, Sophie let herself land on one final thought. I’ve heard the others apologies and things are the better for it. If Marlon wants to talk one last time to clear the air, I won’t say no.

[wxldhxrt]

Path of the Incandescent Soul 

weeks have turned to months and your journey to olympus, your acceptance of your life as a demigod, has lead up to this moment. it's been brutal, wrought with pain and close calls, thick with loss, but you've endured. as you begin to get ready to sleep, winding down for the night, something inside of you feels different. there's a strength that grows that you only dimly knew was there before. you feel stronger, faster, more attuned to your senses and your own inner power. if you ever doubted that you might have divine blood in your veins before, now, more than ever, you feel it. 

 as soon as your head hits the pillow you fall fast asleep, exhausted from the events that have lead up to this point. who knows however long later, you "awaken". you're not where you fell asleep, nothing is as it was when you slept. you have to blink a few times but you realize that you're in a place that seems familiar to you. describe this place? what does it look like, sound like, smell like?

The feeling of wakefulness seemed to come slowly, washing over Greyson like a gentle tide. He wasn't laying down beside Ender as he had been when he'd gone to sleep that night, bone tired from the day's events. He was stood, but he couldn't remember getting up. He looked around, feeling the vastness of the space before he really saw the features of the room. Then the lights around him seemed to rise, waking up and pooling a soft glow all around, casting shapes into view. He knew this place, he had been there a number of times before. It was the Royal Albert Hall, the familiar stage was beneath his feet, hardwood floor, spreading out around him. 

 Greyson looked left, following the flow of the room up towards the great dome above that created the most perfect of acoustics. It was strange however, he had never been on the stage before, only ever looked at it longingly from the stands, sat in the perfect velvet chairs, watching as great pianists and orchestras performed their masterpieces, wondering if perhaps he would ever find the courage to be up on that stage. 

 As Grey turned his eyes down from the lights and ceiling above, hazel gaze scanning across the rows and rows of empty seats, he finally noticed the huge grand piano at his side only a few short steps away. A smile curled his lips at the sight of such a beautiful instrument, able to play the most exquisite of sounds when in the hands of a master. He closed the distance between himself and the piano, fingers stroking across the ivory keys, daring to touch and play a few single notes to fill the silent space with music.

royal albert hall is just as you remember it. you've never seen it this empty, though, and the vastness of it seems daunting and overwhelming. as your eyes fall upon the piano, your heart skips like a staccato, as if the ivory keys are plucking at your heartstrings with a yearning that swallows you whole. 

 the lights of the hall beam down on you as if you're bathed in radiant sunlight. it doesn't feel artificial, it doesn't feel like spotlights. it's the warmth of the sun over your skin and it follows your fingertips over the keys of the piano. you pluck a few of the keys and the sound echoes through the hall, reverberating off the domed ceiling in acoustics unlike anything you've ever heard—it's almost otherworldly, ethereal. 

 you look up and outward toward the rows of seats, where you once sat, and you can see a figure bathed in light, as if created by it. you focus and you can make out the details through the lights, as if you're willing them to take shape. who or what do you see? what shape does this figure take and do you recognize it? how does it make you feel?

When the sounds of the piano ring out with an ethereal tone, Grey paused, for a moment worried he had touched something he should not have, like a child caught with their fingers in a jar of sweets. But the light above feels warm, this place feels safe even in the vastness of its grandeur. For a brief moment Greyson was tempted to sit and play, the let his fingers dance across the keys and fill the hall with beautiful melodies he held in his soul and heart, melodies he'd only ever played for himself, that he probably would only ever play to an empty room. 

 But his eyes catch the light out in the rows of seats, his seat and he saw a figure. For a moment the distance felt too great to make out whoever was sat there. "Hello?" Greyson called, surprising himself when his voice seemed to echo, but then the light cleared, like light always did for him, bent to his will when he wished it so, and his hazel eyes went a little wide at who was sat there. "Professor?" 

 Grey had not seen him in almost a year and their parting had been a painful one. But there he sat, same crop of dark hair atop his head, thick beard across a sharp jaw Greyson's lips had once learned so acutely he knew every inch. The memories seemed to flood back when he looked at those striking blue eyes that had once held the wisdom of the world in them for Grey. 

 His first day in class, Professor Adam Faust, easily the most charming man on campus, but it had been his passion for music that had drawn Grey in. They had hit it off so quickly, but he never expected it to go any further than that. Adam was married, Greyson was naive and yet...Their time together had progress to after hours, out of class, what had once been a Professor and his student became more akin to friendship and then there was the kiss. A kiss that stole his breath away.

An affair that lasted all of Greyson's time at university and then more after that. It had taken Grey too long to realise this man, that he was genuinely in love with, was not in love with him or if he was, he wasn't about to throw away his marriage for one boy. 

It had been hard, to see him that final time, to tell him this was it, he couldn't live like this anymore, the secret, the second choice, Greyson needed more, he needed someone to love him completely. It had been hard to walk away. But he had done it. And now, seeing him here, the place Adam had brought Greyson for the very first time to watch and listen to the most beautiful music Grey had ever heard, it felt painful, like an old wound opened up again that Grey had been healing with time. "Adam." Greyson said softly, the name falling from his lips in a whisper that he wondered if the other would even hear across the distance between them.

the more you focus on the figure within the lights, the more it seems like they're fading away, taking shape. adam sits there looking just as you remember him. his eyes stare at you as you sit at the piano, a small curve of his lips makes you realize that he's smiling. he stands, straightening his blazer, and takes a few steps toward the aisle and begins to speak. 

 at first, you think it's a joke, but the only sound you hear is the soft keys of a piano being plucked, the chords filling the space between the two of you. but as you focus, you can begin to hear the words and, more than that, the voice that speaks them. what do you hear when adam faust speaks? does the voice belong to him? is it male, female, animalistic? describe what you hear and how it makes you feel.

Greyson strained to hear Adam's voice better, but all he could hear was the soft melody of the piano. It feels unreal to see him again after that last departure, especially with how Grey's life had changed. Everything he'd once known about himself had been shifted on its axis and he still felt as though he were spinning. But the more Grey listened to that soft press of the keys, the music fades out and words fade in. 

 For a moment he thought it was Adam's voice, that low timbre he had that seemed to make music when he was lecturing or had just been talking to Greyson about the performance they had just seen, or wrapped up in sheets, breathy and soft against his ear. But the more he listened Greyson could hear another voice, clearer than Adam's tone, it whispered through as if carried by the wind or the distant piano keys. He recognised it so clearly, a sound Greyson knew he would carry with him forever like so many songs. 

 Ender's voice. 

 It was rich and soothing, the sound deep like the rich red wine the other demigod was fabled for. It was a sound that made Greyson smile, brought him such joy and light, kept him war and safe. It was the sound he wanted to hear each time he woke and before he lay down to rest. The two voices seemed to mingle, past and present, two men who had and were so influential to Greyson's life, one who had shaped him and one who was now with him on this new journey. Ender's voice was stronger, so familiar like every time it wrapped around a soliloquy just for Greyson, and it was strange to hear that voice come out of someone else's mouth, but it was familiar, it was home.

the duet of voices spiral around each other, like reciting a monologue or singing a song, and it's like music to your ears. adam continues to move, stepping onto the stage until he's standing across from you at the piano. 

 finally, you can make out his words. 

 "i've been expecting you." the smile still spreads across the plains of his face, reaching into you striking, ocean blue eyes. he motions for you to sit at the piano. "show me what you've learned."

"Expecting me?" Greyson questioned with a confused little frown pulling at his brow. They had agreed to never see one another again at least, Greyson had asked for that mercy when he'd called off their affair. It would have been too hard to remain friends, not with how heavy his heart had felt at the choice that had been made. Her not him. It shouldn't have come as a surprise but it had and it had hurt. 

But those ocean eyes and that voice that wasn't all Adam but instead the most familiar and comforting one of all seemed to lull away that old ache and pain in his chest. He looked at the piano between them when Adam's hand motioned to it. And then he sat. 

This was familiar, known to Grey. While he might never have played on a stage so grand as this, he had played in the quiet of Adam's lecture hall, in the warmth of his home. He had played for him so many times it came almost naturally to Greyson to lay his hands upon the keys and begin the opening chords. The song choice was easy, Greyson didn't even need to pluck it from his many lists of melodies. It was his favourite to play, the song that he'd always felt captured his heart and his soul and bared it open for the world to hear. 

Yiruma - River Flows In You. 

 Greyson's fingers danced across the ivory as elegantly and controlled as any dancer. Each press of a note deliberate, creating the beautiful and timeless flow of music, filling the Royal Albert Hall with sound like so many musicians before and so many would after. Greyson didn't need a crowd, his eyes closed and he let the music flow through him, felt that earlier warm light like the sun on his skin. He played until the song drifted off, until the melody came to an end.

for the duration of the performance, adam stands at the edge of the piano with one hand resting on it and eyes focused on you. his smile never falters nor does he speak—not his voice or ender's voice interrupts you as you play. 

 when you're finished, and you open your eyes once more, you're met with his smiling face. it could be soul crushing if the sun wasn't beaming onto you as if the dome of the hall had opened up to let the sun in. 

 "you are your father's son." he says. "what is it about music that draws you to it?" he questions. "everyone's connection to music is different, what's yours?

That smile was a familiar echo to a life now over. How manny times had he looked upon that face for praise after he'd played a song or a piece of music? Too many, but the encouragement and wonder he'd never received from his own stepfather was always reflected back at him. It had allowed Greyson to bloom and as much as the end of things still pained him, he couldn't regret any of it or all the things Adam had taught him. 

The praise made a blush rise to Greyson's cheeks. His father's son. He still wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it felt good to hear. He wanted to live up to whatever expectation he needed to, to be the son of Apollo. "Thank you." Grey said politely even though he expected no thanks were needed, but he had been raised right by his mother at least, always the proper English Gentleman. 

The question made Greyson pause as he gave it some thought. What did music mean to him? "I...I don't know really. I suppose music has always been heart and soul to me. It was an escape, freedom from the...darker parts of my life. In a lot of ways it was my lifeline. I never needed to try very hard to be good at it, I just...was. But through it, it's opened doors for me, its saved me when I was drowning. Music is a part of me, sometimes I think it's the best part of me." Greyson answered, eyes turning up from the keys beneath his fingers to look upon Adam's face, almost hopeful that he'd answered correctly.

"music is part of you, greyson." ender's voice is more prominent when adam speaks, the tenor of his voice ringing true, thickly laced with the red wine slur that you've grown accustomed to. "is that what you wish it to be when you play? a lifeline for others, a means to combat the darkness, to always be able to come back to the light no matter the circumstance?"

Ender's tone ringing through seemed to soothe away any worries of his answer being wrong. The other demigod just had a way of making Greyson feel like he could do something, anything, even when Grey himself feared he could not. He considered the question once more, turned it over in his mind. Is that what he wanted, his music to be a lifeline for others? He didn't know. 

"Maybe...but my music has always been...just for me. I worry that even if I play the most perfect melody people will find something to criticise, something to hate or put me down for." Grey sighed, his head hanging in an old habit as his fingers once again idly danced across the piano keys. He wasn't playing anything in particular, just allowing the somber melody to flow from his fingers. "What if what I play can't help anyone? What if I can't be the light in the darkness like my father? I don't....I don't shine brightly like him, I can't take a stage in front of people. I'm a quiet light in the distance..."

"how does one get better without criticism? you cannot improve without it." this time, adam's voice is a little more prominent, as if trying to prove a point, instruct you. 

he taps his fingers against the wood of the grand piano and looks up at the sunlight that radiates onto you, swallows you into its warmth. 

"are you a quiet light, greyson, or do you turn yourself into one out of fear of being truly seen and noticed?"

It a question Grey had been asked before and he's once again reminded of the fact that he probably does hide himself out of fear more often than not. He had his reasons, and with age and experience those reasons had seemed childish at times, but old habits die hard. A lifetime of degrading, belittlement and punishment for just being himself had made Greyson shy away from ever truly letting someone see him. From being in the light. 

Now he could direct it, control it. Light was his to command and to wield and so he turned it to others, raised them up, healed away their hurts, aches and pains. He still didn't focus that light on himself. For a moment Grey thought of the other demigods he truly admired. Ender with his passion and his strength, he could charm his way into and out of any situation. Credence, with as much power and confidence as the storms he commanded. Gideon who had so quickly shown Greyson it was okay to live a little. Elijah, wielding the power of his mother's garden. They were all so strong, people Greyson looked up to. 

He saw their faces as if they sat there in the audience below before Grey once again looked at Adam at his side. "I want to be stronger, for my friends, for Ender. I want to be more like my father and less like...who I've always pretended to be to hide. I don't want to be afraid anymore, I want to be able to protect the people I love with everything I have. I don't want to be that quiet far away light anymore."

adam nods his head and he looks up to the dome ceiling of the royal albert hall. slowly, it's as if the lights begin to fade away until there's nothing but darkness. everything around you begins to fade away, leaving the familiarity of the hall a distant memory. you can barely see, can barely make out the details of adam's face even with him being only an arm's reach away from you. 

"darkness will always be present. but you are the light." he reminds you, voice stern as if chastising a student. 

then, it's ender's voice that rings through the harmony of their voices. "show me who you really are. let the light out."

When the lighted start to fade, fear suddenly seemed to creep across Greyson's skin. He felt powerless in the darkness, alone and lost. He watched Adam's face fall from view, blackness flood over him like a thick fog he cannot escape. For a moment Greyson's breathing picked up, hard and fast he stood from the piano, trying to reach out for Adam like he was a lifeline, another soul in the darkness to remind Greyson he wasn't alone. 

"But what if I can't?" Grey's voice faltered, he wanted to be enough, but that creeping self doubt pushed through. His stepfather belittling him, telling him he would never be enough, not good enough, not smart enough, not what he wanted him to be. The voices of angry hateful school kids ringing louder and louder in his ears, swallowing him up. 

Before it's all Greyson can hear, Ender's voice, sweet and warm like honey wine, pushed through the deafening darkness. And Greyson steeled his resolve. He could do this. He was his father's son. Son of Apollo. The light was his to command. 

Greyson reached within himself, dug deep through all the doubts and self pity that buried his light and he washed it all away with that nectar voice guiding him. He let the light pour out of him, bright as the sun, a healing heat so warm and welcoming it felt like life. Sunlight was life. Greyson was the sunlight. His eyes seemed to glow with nothing but a white radiance, golden rays pouring from his skin and perfect wings of light and colour filled the hall, chasing away the darkness. "Is this who I really am?"

for a moment, it's almost as if the darkness is completely engulfing you, swallowing you heart, body, and soul. it's a ruthless darkness, a steady convergence of nothingness that threatens to end the light that makes you who you are. you can feel the panic of being alone settle in, of being left, and then that voice, the same one that's always whispered sweet nothings into your ear, guides you to you center. 

to who you are. 

brilliant, radiant light unfurls around you like a heartbeat, a pulse of sunlight emmenates from you, illuminating the darkness and melting it away. your eyes glow a bright, white hot light, and you stand there like a beacon of light, turning the visage of the hall back to it's glorious brilliance, only basked in bright light. "it is. it's always been who you are."

Feeling that radiant, white light fill the hall and melt away the oppressing darkness, Greyson was imbued with a new sense of purpose, of belonging. This was who he was meant to be, a beacon of light and hope for those around him, the warmth and life of the sun flowed through his very veins. It was as if he could feel it, that burning golden heat, pulsing with each rapid beat of his heart. 

"This is who I am." He echoed, turning to look at Adam's face as the light seemed to settle when Greyson did. This was the man who had set him on a path, and his voice was the one who was to join him on his current. He knew their collective goal, but Greyson had his own sense of purpose as well. He was to be the light and the song that kept his friends strong, that never let them falter. For a moment he thought of Ender, of his face and it was a silent promise to himself never to let him fall, to protect him always. That was Greyson's duty, his calling. 

"This is all a dream isn't it? But when I wake up I won't forget this feeling. I think I know myself better now than I did before, thank you." He smiled at Adam with a warmth and radiance that matched the sun.

"this is as real as anything else you've experienced, greyson." adam says to you as he leans against the piano. "you're finally ready to embrace your destiny, to combat the darkness." he moves to stand beside you and rests his fingers against the ivory keys of the piano and plays a few notes. 

"always remember who you are. even in times of strife, don't allow the darkness to overtake you." he places a hand to your cheek and smiles. "can you do that?"

"I'm still pinching myself most days waiting for the inevitable wake up rush whenever we face something unbelievable." Greyson joked, a soft chuckle as gentle as the melody he played falling from his lips. He knew out there in the waking world it was all real, so he supposed he shouldn't question his dreams too much, especially considering he could peak into the future, and what was foresight but a waking dream really? 

When that familiar hand touched his cheek, he didn't feel the same ache in his chest he had before, those thoughts of not being enough for this man to love, didn't enter his mind like they might once have. Adam was a part of his past, a lesson, he had his future, beside his sleeping body in their shared tent. "I can do that. I'm going to be the light in the dark for everyone." Grey nodded, a resolution in his voice that sounded strange even to his own ears. But it was a good strange, proof of dedication. "I hope to make my father proud, if I ever meet him someday."

"i'll lend you my power and we'll see you combat the darkness. for yourself and your friends." adam says and sits down on the bench beside you, he begins to play a soft melody on the keys, plucking away without even looking at them. 

"maybe one day you will. there will be trials and tribulations that you'll need to overcome, but with my help and the help of those you care about, you'll succeed. you just need to remember who you are." 

you wake up and you're back in the tent with ender's long, lean form stretched out beside you. there's darkness surrounding the camp but you can see the faint colorings of the lava lit sky that almost make you feel like the sun is beaming down on you. you fall back asleep, still tired from the events that have lead up to this moment, but when you wake up the next morning, you feel as if 

you've slept better than you've slept in years.

[starlling-writes]

Bewitching Monsters - Deity (O’dos) Part 3

Series Rating: 18+ Chapter Contains: brief manhandling, drinking, minor swearing, drug use (psychedelic mushrooms) Pairing: f/fluid BeMo Masterlist   ☆  Writing Masterlist

I ended up at the Laughing Grove—the brasserie Valzok took me to. Caera and Aleril had likely followed me but they were giving me room. My distant headspace must be that obvious.

Citra was working tonight. He brought me my first drink and asked what was wrong. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. He didn’t pry, but said if it was something Valzok did, he’d be happy to kick his ass for me. That actually made me smile.

The live music tonight was a lovely guitar and piano duet. Both of the girls sang too. Their music was soft and warm. Combined with the alcohol, most of my anxieties were lulled away. My gaze wandered around the room. A few couples were slow dancing on the dance floor. Many people were here on dates too. Seeing so much love muddled my heart. I finished off my drink and left.

“So melancholic.” I jumped and looked at O’dos. They were making a habit of just popping in today. This time, they wore the guise of an androgynous drow in simple clothing. “Are you truly that adverse to our agreement?”

“I don’t want to be a shitty mother,” I confessed. “I don’t wanna ruin someone else’s life because family is a foreign concept to me.”

“You have no need to worry, dear witchling. I know you. You will do fine.”

The sentiment was appreciated, but the words wouldn’t sink in. How could a deity understand when I couldn’t even articulate all my troubles? O’dos’s dark laugh echoed in my head. I flinched, noticing now I was no longer walking through town. We were in the void I often communicated with them in.

“For someone of your level, you hold much doubt over yourself.”

“Is this an intervention now?”

“No,” they answered a little too quickly and flippantly. “Your troubles are your own to handle. I am only concerned with those inhibiting our deal.”

I began wondering if there was a bit of fea in them—or maybe fae got it from the gods. “I wouldn’t say anything is inhibiting it; I’m just…hesitant, to meet this future. There are just so many unknowns.”

“Is that not life?”

I probably shouldn’t tell my patron deity to fuck off. Their smartassery was irksome, yet refreshing, helping to pull my mind from my worries. I met their gaze. There was more wisdom and knowledge swirling around in their eyes than I could ever wish to obtain. If they weren’t worried, then perhaps everything would be fine. Surely they knew better than I.

O’dos cupped my cheek and smiled softly. “One week, witchling.”

“And here I thought you were all out of kindness,” I joked.

Before I knew it, their hand was fisted in my hair, jerking my head back. They stepped closer, leaving half a breath between us. “Do not test me.”

I should have felt threatened. Not horny. Although… given the circumstances, being turned on right now was appropriate. It was ill timed, and influenced by alcohol, but fuck—it sent a delicious shock through me to be manhandled by them.

“One week,” O’dos repeated before vanishing and sending me home.

 The next few days I kept my work door closed and isolated myself from most everyone. I needed deep introspection. The first couple days I tried the simpler approaches: meditation, journaling, divination. Those efforts didn’t get me far. I was getting no sense of hardships in this endeavor, yet something was keeping my heart from being at ease.

I prepared some mushrooms for myself the following day. I was surprised to find I still had any lying around. Many disagree with such methods, but using mushrooms was the best way I found to connect deeply with myself.

“Don’t let me be outside for more than an hour,” I told Caera.

“I still can’t believe you’re going out in this cold, Mistress.”

There was a small flurry going on, but I needed to be out in nature. “That’s why I said an hour at most. Just… have some cocoa ready for me when I come back in, please.”

“Of course."

I took the shrooms and turned on some music. Might as well dance a bit and get myself loose while I wait for the come up. And now that Caera had a body, she could dance with me. We swayed and twirled. I couldn’t remember the last time I danced with someone. Was it with Aero during Brumalis? Maybe. Though I would’ve been drunk then; and I’m almost high now… I needed to dance with others again when I’m sober. I needed to dance more.

My thoughts drifted and soon geometric runes started to dance in my vision. The drugs were kicking in. Time to brave the cold. But the music was so nice. And dancing with Caera was—

No! I had work to do. This wasn’t the occasion for fun.

It was a challenge to pull away from her. Especially knowing I was about to venture out into the dark winter night. I made two small balls of light to float around me and stepped outside.

The snow was barely falling now; the light caught the puffy flakes in a magical way. I could still hear the music playing inside. So I danced. The snow floated around me like flecks in water. I started to feel like I was floating too. Closing my eyes, I saw rainbow light filtering down through ocean waves, breaking into beautiful patterns. The designs gradually turned into an array of strobing, bioluminescent sea life. Fish, whales, turtles, jellyfish—so many creatures danced with me now.

A deep rumble brought me out of my trance. Vérus stood before me. “What are you doing?” he asked while I was distracted by the fading light trails of a school of fish.

“Dancing.”

“I meant, why are you outside?”

“Cuz I’m tripping on mushrooms and being outside helps me connect to nature better which will help me connect with my inner-self better and I need to do that cuz I have a lot of thinking and introspection I need to work on within the next four days,” I rambled.

He slowly blinked. “Did you take my ichor?”

“No, why?—Wait!” I gasped. “Would that help? By the moon, your ichor is gonna be a lot more useful than I thought. How do I take it though? Do I make a tea, or a tincture, or bake it in bread or something, or burn it like incense—”

“Stop,” he cut me off. “That is the opposite of what I meant. You need to go back inside.” He walked to my house and was about to let himself in when he looked back and noticed I had gone back to dancing in the snow. With a heavy sigh, he came and grabbed my arm to drag me along.

“Oh good, I was just about to go get you,” Caera said.

“It’s been an hour already?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Huh, normally time felt slower when I tripped. I took the mug of cocoa from her and settled into the chair closest to the fire. My toes were freezing.

“And why are you doing all this?” Vérus asked dully.

That put a sharp damper on my trip. Why was he still here? I took a moment to stare at the fire before answering. “I’m going to be a mother soon.”

I knew what he had to be thinking. His unspoken questions made my skin crawl—it was like thousands of tiny spiders crawling over and nibbling at me. I immediately forced that imagery from my mind before the drugs made it worse. It threw me off a bit when he coolly asked, “And this required such… introspection, why?”

“I don’t know how to parent!” I slammed my mug down on the table, some cocoa sloshing out. “I don’t wanna fuck up. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

Vérus knelt on one knee before me and turned my face to look at him when I tried to look away. He was so close now. Runes ran down in face in the most intriguing patterns. “Witch. I’m not in the habit of giving compliments. That said—your skills are greater than any witch I’ve seen before. Your consideration draws others to you. I do not foresee you failing such a thing.”

He left me truly speechless for a moment. I still wasn’t used to him being this friendly. “This… is the weirdest trip I have ever had.”

— — —

BeMo Masterlist   ☆  Writing Masterlist Story:  Previous   —   Next Character Arc:  Part 1   Part 2   [Here]  Part 4

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Hickory Dick-ory Dock (baon)

Summary: A prequel to the series, a glimpse at how Sans and Red's relationship got started.

Tags:  Kustard, Angst, Ecto-Genitalia, Sex, Antagonism, Brats to Lovers, Lemony Goodness

Notes:  Okay, this is the last kustard one, I swear, Edge and Stretch just needed a little break after everything that happened. Besides, with all this Sans and Red stuff coming up, I thought it might be interesting to see how they started out. 

It's swell! Watch out for that lemony goodness!

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was either too early or way too fucking late to be awake, and Sans’s body hadn’t decided on which one yet. The only chair in the room was as shitty as the rest of the furniture, stiff-backed and with the kinds of stains it didn’t pay to think too deeply about. Not really worth sitting in except for those moments where someone shouldn’t be having a cigarette but still was. Supposed to be no smoking anywhere indoors, but in a motel that prided itself on a cash-only, Sans didn’t think anyone would be chasing them down for a cleaning fee.

Of the two vending machines by the elderly ice maker, only one of them worked and it reluctantly parted with a can of Pepsi for the rip-off price of two bucks. Not even an honest swindle, it was piss-warm and unsatisfying, even for someone without a proper throat.

The tiny bottle of whiskey he’d nabbed earlier on the plane was of a decent sort, though, helped smooth the path down, and by their powers combined, it was teetering on the edge of acceptable. Not like they were going to be here for long, anyway. Sulking about it would be petty waste of precious little time.

“you gonna offer me some of that or keep it for your private party?”

Sans glanced at the bed, but Red didn’t bother opening his sockets, still sprawled out in the wreck of the sagging mattress. A corner of the sheet was draped over his pelvis in a parody of modesty and the colorful splatter on his femurs made Sans idly think of the modern art at the museum Blue dragged all of them to a few weeks back.

Sans took a deliberate sip from the can, then a drag from the cigarette, holding in the smoke long enough for it to start seeping from his sockets before he exhaled it. “dunno, haven’t decided. maybe i like a solo act better.”

That got him a single socket opened, a thin rim of crimson showing. “yeah? was getting the idea earlier you preferred a duet. i spent the better part of an hour sucking you off, and this is the thanks i get?”

“isn’t it supposed to be the thought that counts when it comes to gifts?”

“uh huh, and what i’m thinking is it should be your turn to make your way downtown,” Red shifted, drawing his knees up and letting them fall to either side. The tangle of the sheet gave tantalizing glimpses of pelvis and the beginnings of a swirl of magic within it. “c’mere, little boy blue, come blow my horn.”

Sans snorted and crushed out the cigarette on the scarred old desk, leaving a blackened mark that matched a dozen others. “like i’ve never heard that before.”

“i know you haven’t,” Red gave him a sly, sulking look and rolled to his side, giving Sans his back, and yeah, he got the unspoken insult there. “you’ve never fucked anyone with my crushing wit.”

“mother goose ain’t exactly phd material and you might be crushing, but i’m the one pounding tonight.”

Sans hopped down from the chair and snagged the can, carrying it with him to the bed. He sat on the side of the mattress, trailing an idly finger down the intricate curves of Red’s spine. That was worth a faint sigh, exhaled through a jagged-tooth smile. Fondling the sensitive cartilage between each vertebra was better, Red arching into the touch with a hissed groan, undulating between that generously stroking hand and the stained sheets.

It added to the novelty of the occasion, could tack that sight right in with all the other scenery Sans never expected to see. Lovely bones, gleaming palely in the neon light creeping in through the slatted blinds covering the windows. The scars littering Red’s bones were predicable, but discovering the slimness of them beneath that ever-present jacket wasn’t, smaller even than Sans, all bulked up and hidden beneath heavy layers.

None of that made Red any less dangerous, but then, that was part of the fun, now wasn’t it.

His hand got lazy while Sans was taking in the sights and Red made a complaining sort of sound, rolling onto his back and stretching. The sheet, already doing a poor job at an attempt at modesty gave up even that, sliding completely loose. That left nothing covering Red but the remnants of come, still tacky yet, smearing as Red ran a pin-sharp fingertip up the inside of his femur. Sans watched, rapt, as red and blue mingled, sullied into purple.

“give me that.”

For a split second, Sans lurched obediently forward, ready to crawl between those femurs. Then he saw that wickedly sharp smirk curling up and noticed Red was reaching out towards the can that was starting to crumple in Sans’s too-tight grip.

It didn’t pay well to show Red any weakness and Sans swallowed down his flusterment, handing it over. Watched as Red tipped it back and swallowed down half the can in a single gulp. There was probably a pun to be made there, getting hit hard with a soft drink, but instead he only watched, tried not to think of what his eye lights were revealing as he stared at Red licking his teeth, the tips tinging to crimson as he nicked his own tongue against them.

“you gonna come down here or just enjoy the show?”

“i was about to leave,” Sans said, slowly. Like it wasn’t a lie and he wasn’t sitting here without even his shorts on. “paps will be wondering where i am.”

All the ambassadors were tucked away in their own five-star hotel, none of them suspecting their head of security and his second had skulked off, leaving them with the rest of the bodyguards. They were safe as houses, had to be or Red never would’ve been coaxed off, but Paps might come to his room, might ask for a bedtime story or just a chat.

“yeah, can’t let your little brother know you’re sneaking out to fuck around with me, now can you?” Poisonously sweet and okay, Red could, and did, get away with murder all the fucking time, but Sans wasn’t gonna let that slide.

“that how you want to play it?” Sans let a smirk of his own work its way loose. Like this lovely secrecy was for his benefit? “oh, miss mary, quite contrary, you want me to call him? i can give him the room number, see if he wants to stop in and verify. probably some paperwork that needs done, ain’t there, the bossman fucking his subordinate, bet he’d volunteer to help, he likes filling out forms.”

“you’d need form 109b, you’re the one who fucked me,” Red’s eye lights glittered with unnamed emotion. “hoping i’ll call you on that?”

“go ahead, if you think i’m joking, i could use a few chuckles."

“bet you could. i’m all about the jokes, but 3 am is a tough crowd.”

Sans ran his tongue along the even line of his teeth, considering. And then he went for blood. “we aren’t meeting up at roach motels to keep secrets from my brother. tell you what, wanna give the edgelord a call, instead? bet he and stretch are already done banging for the night, all curled up together for beddy-bye.”

“it’s 11am back in the states, i’m more likely to interrupt some meeting.” Oh, but there was blood in the water now, and fucking shark that he was, Red could smell it.

“great, then asgore can listen to our first ever porn podcast.”

Sans reached for his shorts and dug out his phone, humming as he pulled up Papyrus’s contact. “i don’t worry about my bro. let me give him a call, then you can call yours—”

His phone clattered to the floor as Red slapped it out of his hands. Sans kinda hoped it wasn’t broken, he wasn’t gonna have time to get a new one in the morning before all the meetings started and sitting there without candy crush to keep him entertained would be an endless nightmare.

“you gonna fuck me or not.” The words caught on a snarl, Red’s eye lights shading into a deep, harsher crimson, his mouth twisted into a grimace.

Sans hummed thoughtfully. “you gonna give me something to fuck?”

He did one better, rolling onto his front and forming ectoflesh from just beneath his ribcage to the tops of his femurs. The generously rounded globes of his ass were a bribe, but Sans wasn’t too proud to be cheap. He cupped them in both hands, firm flesh but with comfortable give.

But he wasn’t quite ready to be bought. “needed a nice cushion for some pushin?”

“you’re bitching at me for mother goose when you’re putting out that shit? fuck me, already, before i die of boredom—hnn!”

Seemed polite to wait until he was at the end of a sentence to push two fingers into his cunt. So slick inside, already practically dripping with want and Red whimpered as Sans worked to coax out a little more, pressed in another finger just to feel the hot stretch around his knuckles.

“huh. think i like your mouth better when you aren’t speaking,” Sans teased. He worked another finger in, all that slippery wetness making it easy. Yeah, much better like this, gasping and whining, mangling obscenities while Sans scissored his fingers inside him.

"yeah? think this is gonna shut me up?” Red managed to gasp, "gonna have to try harder than that, i could take your fucking fi—gah!!”

"what was that? seemed like you had something to say, sweetheart." Red gave it another try at the same moment Sans gave a little thrust with his fingers, letting them glide in and out, riding that silky wetness as Red’s curses tangled in between whines. In the interest of both their orgasms, it seemed best to reach up and push two fingers into his mouth, forcing him to suck on them and hoping Red didn’t take the opportunity to bite them off.

Instead, a moan vibrated through his phalanges, the slick little tongue between his fingers made him think of other places that mouth had been. Tight, hot little mouth almost as good as his tight little pussy and yeah, it was kinda vulgar to pull his fingers free, slip them still wet between Red's legs to rub his clit but the lovely little writhe he did excused it.

"oh,” Red groaned out, “that's…oh, fuck, you – yeah, just –"

Might be better if he took the continuing effort at speech as a compliment. Not difficult to do with the way Red was pushing back at him, wriggling and rolling his hips in a way that could never be taught, could only be known. He felt the sudden clench around his fingers as Red started to come and quickly pulled them out, left his cunt clenching on nothingness while he scooted back away.

Even as Red spat out curses in the ruins of his orgasm, Sans caught hold of his hips and dragged him up to his knees, hastily forming his cock. He rubbed it along the wet slit, but Red was squirming so much beneath him he slipped away on the first try.

“hold still!” Sans slapped one asscheek, and Red howled…and did it, spreading his knees wider to let him line up. Then he had to catch his own breath, that long, easy slide inside, surrounded by wet, clenching pussy. Easy, too easy to dig his fingers bruisingly into the giving ectoflesh of Red’s hips, lifting him to make the angle that much deeper. His rhythm was shitty and desperate, no finesse left to him. Sans could only drive in as hard as he could, his hips slapping against that generous, crimson backside.

Didn't matter, Red was along for the ride, both hands braced against the headboard and wood shavings curling around his razor fingertips as he dug them into the cheap particleboard. The room was a cacophony of conflicting sounds, flesh and bone striking, the bed frame creaking, and both of them breathing like they were about to dodge a blow. The sudden feeling of Red tightening around him in a sweet, constricting ripple made Sans gasp and listening to his choked, desperate cry as Red convulsed and came again was almost as good as coming himself.

Almost.

The air around them was thick with the scent of their sex, sourly spicy and nothing sweeter to soften it. Sans sagged down on top of Red, ignored his grunt as he let him take all of his weight, and breathed it in.

~~*~~

The sky was only graying with dawn when Sans woke up again. The bed was empty next to him, only the stained blankets and sheets to keep him company. Sans managed to crawl out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, gathering up his wrinkled t-shirt and shorts along the way.

Shitty as this little hotel managed to be, the mildewed shower still had plenty of hot water and Sans basked in it, scrubbing away the night before with the sliver of complimentary soap.

The cab ride would only take fifteen or so, but he still wouldn’t have time to get changed when he got back to the hotel where the ambassadors were staying. Paps would scold him for wearing the same thing as yesterday, loudly and with vigor, and groan at whatever puns Sans offered before slyly offering back one of his own.

But he wouldn’t say anything about Sans being gone all night in front of the others, those questions would only show in his worried glances, and soft, secret questions about whether Sans was being safe.

Damn shame Sans didn’t know the answer.

For now, it didn’t matter. Time to head back and play nice in front of the Ambassadors, and put on some sunglasses so no one could see if he fell asleep. Maybe tonight he could persuade Red out again and they’d give Humpty Dumpty a try or even Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater. Worth a shot.

He hummed as he stepped into his rumpled shorts and slipped on his t-shirt. If he hurried, he’d have time to grab coffee. Maybe this time he’d bring one for Red, too, the way he liked it for once, hot and bitter black.

Maybe. It wouldn’t hurt to be a little kind, just this once.

-finis-

[rkjaemin]

mnet global auditions 5 ep2 : the interview mentioned: @hyojinrk, @rkheejin, @rkxminkyung, @rkjyp,  @rksakura, @moonbokrk, @rkchwev, @rkyq, @rksuwoong, @ericxrk, @ryujinrk, @rkyeji, @rkchaeryeong, @joohyunrk

jaemin finds himself being lead to yet another room. he peers inside the room, a small smile clinging at the corner of his lips, he already has a feeling how the interview was going to go this time. after the performance, with the adrenaline still coursing through him, he was sort of... chattier than usual. his filter was still -- sort of up, but he felt like he would be more open to answer questions and maybe say names this time around. and with that in mind, he sits comfortably before the staff that were there. "you look like you're in a good mood, jaemin-ssi!" the observation makes him laugh lightly, only to hold himself back, hands moving up to motion that he was not. "i always am, pd-nim... i think expressive would be a better word for it?" he says it with somewhat a serious expression before a smile breaks on his face and chuckle follows after.

"what did you think of the results last week?" the smile on his lips grows. "i'm... really happy that i made it." was his immediate response, but he continues on with "but also confused because there were really talented people who had to leave, it would have been interesting to see them perform some more..." he could see how speechless and amused the staff were getting, probably because he was being straight forward right from the very first question. "and who do you think is best under each skill?" jaemin leans back, looking up, chin resting over his fingers as he hummed, organizing his thoughts before his eyes shifts back to the camera. "you're really going to keep doing this until you hear me say someone's name, aren't you?" he smiles to himself and shakes his head. "alright then, don't say i didn't warn you... i am feeling expressive today." the remark makes the others smile, and jaemin resumes to go over his picks.

"everyone has their own distinct sound... so best is actually subjective". if there was anything he's learned from his years in sopa, it was that everyone is good... in their own way. it took a while for him to get used to hearing the word good and great being handed to others when he was used to the dichotomy of the right way and wrong way in science. "jeon heejin and kim hyojin’s voices have this certain quality to it. it would be interesting to hear a duet from those two, maybe i should write a love song for them to sing?" he trails off nodding a bit, already thinking of a melody for the said duet. then, he brings himself back to the conversation, "there's also kim minkyung and park jinyoung who are also vocalists to watch out for."

"there were a lot of really great rappers this season too," he starts, getting comfortable in his seat. "flow and delivery were good. but there was just something missing for others?" he sees the interest brewing in the pd's face, and jaemin was feeling playful enough to play into it. some do find his bluntness to be funny, but he has to be careful about it this time. "there are rappers that have a lot of potential, lot of room to improve skill-wise. but their stage presence is just explosive. they have this vibe that makes you look." he continues, still being careful with his words, trying to put it as positively as he could. "for a rapper, i think it's not just about skill... also about your presence. taking those two things into consideration, i'd say we should expecting great performances from miyawaki sakura. jang moonbok and chwe hansol, of course. and you know... that girl sitting next to me? song yuqi. she's... also really interesting, i look forward to her performances."

"i'm not a very good dancer myself, but lee suwoong and sohn youngjae were both great. and for the girls..." he looks up at the staff, smiling and then sighing, "here's what you've been waiting for, you're going to edit this weirdly, i can tell." the comment makes them laugh again, and jaemin was getting more and more encouraged to speak up because of the positive response. maybe he wasn't so bad at conversations after all? "i think shin ryujin-ssi has the whole package. she's stunning, talented, and her stage presence is just... she's just..." he knew the bias was showing, and he was not completely explaining why he was saying those things. he has been a fan, and he just couldn't help himself. "she's great, and that's that." he wraps up quickly before moving on. "there's also hwang yeji, lee chaeryoung, and we can't forget about bae joohyun."

"you went easy on me this time," he narrows his eyes as he crossed his arms. "i know you have harder questions, pd-nim." with that he receives what he has asked for. "were there any performances you didn't like then, jaemin-ssi?" it makes him laugh and cover his face, but he laughs it off and proceeds, "there were some that i'm... not so sure about? better song choices should have been made, something within their range, or something that suits their voice. i'm sure they have a reason that they chose the songs they performed but it just doesn't work." it was perhaps the most unfiltered answer he had given at the interview, but the honesty doesn't make him worried about this going against him.

"you said shin ryujin has the whole package, what did you think of her performance then?" he knew better than to play into this question, but he's too excited to see ryujin on stage again to even doubt himself. "she's very talented. i wouldn't be surprised if she won the whole thing, i mean. she's just..." jaemin starts to feel silly, rubbing the back of his neck. he realizes how he must have acted and narros his eyes for the nth time, "pd-nim, you're trying to trick me again, aren't you?" his words earn more laughs. interviews are an interesting experience, and he was actually having a good time. he just hopes nothing will be taken out of context. but then again, this is mnet... he'll never really knows until it all airs.

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: 2009

Masterpost

6x12: 2009

And... here we are, back to the start of all the things.  I don’t necessarily count this as part of the finale - I feel like this and Dreams Come True were two separate entities that they decided to throw together to make it seem like a two hour finale.  But I’m glad that we got this kind of an episode - because I feel like it’s a way to show just how far this show came in it’s short six years.  I know there’s discussion as to whether or not this would have been a good ender instead of DCT, and while I do see the appeal of the circular narrative, I prefer how it was aired -- looking back before closing the book for good.  

Hello, My Name is Kurt Hummel

The first half of the episode is dedicated to reframing the characters we’ve grown to love and we get to start with Kurt.  I kind of love that we spend time with the characters who weren’t developed in the pilot - not only because it gives us a different perspective of the pilot, but because these are the characters who the show gravitated to, and who really became solidified in our hearts.  And of course, Kurt gets to go first - because he wasn’t even in the pilot to begin with - and now this character is the male lead of the show.  It’s kind of poetic really.  

But before we get too deep, I need to point something out.  It’s funny to me that we can all look back at things and remember how they were - but there is a reality to the fact that we can never really go back.  The truth is - in the six years being on the show, Chris Colfer grew up - going from a slightly chubby-faced kid, into a full-fledged adult.  And no matter how hard they try, they can’t undo puberty.  

Chris is amazing in a lot of ways - he holds himself inward like he did in the first season, he tries to mirror the same mannerisms, he even tries to speak slightly higher again.  But you can’t mask the obvious - this kid is, well, not a kid anymore, and it shows.  Just needed to point that out ;) 

Anyway - when we open with Kurt, we see this very lonely and sad kid, slumping through the halls, still getting rammed into lockers by Karofsky (and Puck), and talking about how no one notices that he even exists. 

I like that he mentions his mom here - that he says she said he was a happy child.  And I have to wonder in these lonely days, if he misses his mom more.  She was a kind soul - a contrast to his dad’s gruffness, that soothed his unique heart.  He could be different - but his mom always loved him.  Mom isn’t around anymore, and the world seems cold and lonely.  

He mentions in this voice over that he wonders if anyone would notice if he was gone.  Yes - Kurt was situational depressed before he joined glee.  And yes, he was toyed with suicide -- maybe not to the extent that he’d try anything (he had his dad to look out for - and I feel like that always kept him going) but it was definitely a thing the show wants to point out as real.  And in the middle seasons - when Burt says glee saved his kid’s life - this is what Burt was referring to. 

Well - lucky for Kurt, as strange and awkward as Ms. Pillsbury is, she does do her job - and she does notice Kurt.  And really, let’s give Emma some credit here, because if Emma hadn’t talked to Burt, Kurt probably wouldn’t have joined glee - and who knows what would have happened.  

I like the little scene between Emma and Burt.  Burt knows something’s different about Kurt - and has suspected for a long time that he’s gay - but really doesn’t want to go there, and still thinks there might be some time for Kurt to grow out of being gay.  Luckily Emma kinda brushes pass that and explains to Burt that Kurt’s depressed and might possibly hurt himself.  And Burt, being the good dad that he is takes it seriously.  

Joining a Team

Hey! It’s Kurt’s old room - complete with weird bird cage chair and a sewing machine.  And those very white walls.  I’m surprised Kurt hadn’t already redesigned it into something more spectacular - but if he was feeling depressed, well then he probably didn’t feel like doing much of anything.  Anyway... Burt comes down to talk to him, and we get little snippets of what their life is like with each other.  

Kurt comments about making dinner -- which is what he probably does a lot of the time.  He likes cooking, Burt probably doesn’t, so Burt’s probably okay with him doing a majority of the meals.  Burt isn’t that comfortable talking about things - but makes an effort (which is huge!).  But within the conversation, Burt comments that they’re usually doing their own things and not really being a big part of each other’s lives.  

Burt, I don’t think, really knows how to handle the situation - and his solution is to get Kurt some friends, and find something that Kurt’s happy to do.  I don’t think yelling at his kid to join the football team is great advice, but I also don’t think Burt really knows what to do in this situation either, and reaches out in the only way he knows how.  

It’s interesting to me that Burt comments that Kurt’s basically alone all the time down there in his room.  And it made me think about how Burt was probably all alone too - not having met Carol yet, and probably feeling low-key depression (or just apathy) since his wife died.  Sure, Burt probably played poker with his buddies every once in a while, too -- but I get the impression that Burt is as lonely and isolated inwardly as Kurt is outwardly portraying.  It’s just an interesting dynamic here before they kind of turn a corner in Preggers. 

Rachel Berry

Burt made a demand that Kurt has to join something by the end of the week...  So Kurt, to his credit at least tries.  But first - I’d like to point out Kurt awkwardly needs to find a place to sit for lunch - and through our trek through the lunch room, we’ve got all the cliques and groups hanging around.  And this isn’t 2009, this is almost 1989.  Everything’s so stereotypical - it might as well have been a Saved by the Bell episode.  Oh Ryan Murphy and your issues regarding being in high school that play out through your numerous shows....  

Anyway - back to Kurt.  He finds Rachel Berry and promptly sits down.  And then tells her how wonderful she is (cause he watches her MySpace videos)  **headdesk**  And this, folks, is what we call retconning because I don’t actually believe that season 1 Kurt would be watching Rachel’s anything.  But the show is trying to connect its characters - and set up the Hummelberry friendship, so fine, I’ll let you pass.  The revert to early Rachel Berry is pretty funny. 

I’m not entirely sure what’s going on with Kurt’s hair during this episode.  They kind of go through all of Kurt’s iconic looks throughout season 1 and 2, which may have been the point.  Or maybe they forgot that Kurt wore his hair in one way during all of season 1.  Hard to say.  

Anyway...  oh Rachel.  Kurt says he needs to join a club and Rachel says speech club is closed (man - why didn’t we get to see Rachel in speech club, that would have been hilarious).  But then goes into a whole thing about how glee club is now open and looking for members.  And Kurt kind of hangs on for dear life as Rachel rambles on in her run-on sentences.  

I should mention, though, a contrast between Rachel and Kurt here, though.  Kurt claims he’s kinda toying with acting while Rachel says she’s going to be on Broadway and that’s it - she’s determined and unstoppable.  And I think it kind of speaks to their characters.  Sure, Kurt does have ambition, but he also is able to put his relationships before his career - while Rachel will do the opposite.  Idk - nice little bit of continuity here. 

Popular

And... we get Kurt wearing the same, weird, glasses shirt he was wearing in the pilot when he goes to sign up!  Anyway, Rachel has agreed to help Kurt with his singing, and of course - they decide to do a Wicked song (nice throwback to the diva-off in Wheels) about making one over to be popular.  Could their be a more perfect song for them as their last duet? I think not.  

I do like Kurt’s looks as Rachel (through the song) comments on his livelyhood - and how he won’t be an easy case to make over.  We do get a bit of that old school Kurt shining through here in his facial expressions.  And I do kinda love that it puts Kurt’s making over her in season 1 have even more context, which is fun (whether they intended that or not).  

I’m not sure if I have a whole lot to say about the song itself.  It’s pretty self explanatory - a conversation about being popular (which is a nice tie-in with the original theme of the show).  And it’s also a way for Kurt and Rachel to begin the bonding process (again, even if I don’t fully buy the retcon here).  

But more so - this is the last duet for Chris and Lea and they really just sell it.  It’s been a long time, actually, since we’ve had a Kurt and Rachel duet - and it’s nice to have again.  Their voices complement each other very well - and they have great give and take on stage.  This performance just works - is funny, well sung, and all around entertaining.  I have nothing but positive things to say about it. 

As the show wraps up - Kurt is happy and excited, wanting to do the audition together with Rachel.  However, Rachel has this weird idea in her head that you can’t team up to do auditions (even though Tina and Artie totally audition together).  Rachel dramatically storms off - claiming that this is show choir and it’s every man for himself.  Which is weird... because the purpose of show choir is to function as a full unit, not fight for solos, but I don’t think Glee really ever understood that concept.  

Kurt stands there stunned - and again alone.  

Mercedes Jones

Well - I’m glad it doesn’t take much to light a fire under Kurt’s butt.  Since Rachel isn’t willing - Kurt goes out and seeks someone else (the same day!) - and it happens to be Mercedes Jones - future BFF.  Kurt’s already enamored with her (which is adorable), and asks for her help preparing something for his audition.  

She thinks he’s adorable (she calls him a pale, sexy, keibler elf - let that sink in for a minute) but she also calls him out for slinking around the school and his loud sense of style.  He says that he feels more inside, but isn’t sure how to express it - and we get confirmation that Kurt lets his clothes express himself as a way that he can’t yet verbalize.  Well - luckily for Kurt (man does he get lucky having some great women in his life) Mercedes takes pity on him - and decides to help him out -- even picking out his audition song. 

Audition

So - we get the reprisal of Mr. Cellophane - what Kurt sang for his audition way back in the pilot.  And I love that we get it from the back side.  It’s not only a way to hide Chris’s growth into adulthood, but a neat way to show a new perspective.  

In case you were wondering what Will’s notes are: 

Great Breath Support

Impressive Range

Earsplitting falsetto (Note - does Will or the writers know that that’s not Kurt’s falsetto but his actual range?) 

Gay.  (Oy, whatever Will, not sure why that’s relevant) 

Sweet Kid!!! (Will added the exclamation points)

Hummel Tires and Lube

With all the throwbacks, I’m realizing this is the last time we get to see all these places.  Awww....  

So, Kurt comes bouncing into his dad’s shop all happy about joining the glee club, and Burt’s excited for him.  (I love that Burt thinks Beyonce is a kid in Kurt’s class.)  I kind of side eye that a) you can only bond with other people within competition - but from Burt’s perspective I get it and b) the fact that Kurt feels they need a strong male lead.  I get that Kurt might not feel confident yet to be a lead -- and that the show wants to bring back Finn (or at least his essence).  But I’ve had this issue with the show all along.  Kurt (and Artie) can be male leads - just because they aren’t ‘traditional’ doesn’t mean they can’t be.  Oy show. 

But the real bittersweet (and brilliant) moment of this scene comes at the end - and is a stark reminder of where we once were.  His dad is proud of him, and clearly loves him.  But Kurt still holds on to a deep secret - that he’s gay.  And he just doesn’t know how to tell his dad that.  We know what happens - we know that Burt’s going to officiate at Kurt’s wedding to a man some day.  We know that everything’s gonna play out alright.  But at one point in time - Kurt didn’t know.  And this scene really puts us back in the mind set.  

Also - I’d like to take a moment to mention that they use all the season 1 scoring - which a nice throwback to season 1, but also in building the atmosphere of the time period.  It’s just a nice touch. 

Little Moments

Kurt’s spotlight segment is over - but there’s still much more to this episode.  As Tina and Artie are figuring out their own auditions (which they’re dared to do) Kurt and Rachel are busy getting lunch thrown on them.  Ah kiddos... 

[Guys - when they do the throwback to class where the fury is complaining about Rachel - check the chalkboard - there’s a history of Lima there and it’s kinda funny]

Also - Kurt is back to doing stunning background moments, because he storms behind giving a death glare to the punk group Artie and Tina are in - it’s glorious. 

First Glee Club Meetings

Hey! It’s our first glee club meeting...  Will’s not very good at this, but at least he’s enthusiastic.  I don’t fully understand the need for the gloves though. 

Of course - everyone’s already fighting over solos.  Will at least says they’re going to take turns, but we all know how that’ll turn out.  Meanwhile - Will wants to do a medley from Grease (ah, set up I see...) and Kurt raises his hand to do the Sandy part.  Remember that weird, awkward Kurt gender stuff - hey it’s back.  

And then we get into some really uncomfortable stuff as Rachel says that the solos shouldn’t be about race, or disability, or ‘whatever’ as she points to Tina and Kurt (eesh).  And yeah - Rachel - sit down, you are being racist.  This is supposed to set up Mercedes breaking down though - and I am glad they finally, even if it’s at the end, address some of the racial stuff with Mercedes here.  

Kurt, though, looks annoyed (rightfully) at be labeled as a ‘whatever’ - and looks to Will for some kind of support - or at least wanting to shut Rachel down. But this is Will - and he’ll learn that he’ll never really be able to do that. 

Kurt doesn’t say anything here - but let’s take a moment to appreciate Chris’s background acting again.   Ah, welcome back to season 1.   

Lima Bean

So - Kurt and Mercedes are already hanging out together - lovely!  I totally get season 3 Kurt vibes from this scene, but ah well - who cares, it’s cute.  

Finn has joined the club by now - and Kurt’s complaining cause despite scenes ago saying they need a male lead - Kurt’s now irritated (as he should be) about being ignored for something more ‘traditional’.  

The point of this conversation is kind of to prop up Finn as needing them as much as they, supposedly, need him.  Mercedes is kind about the whole thing - and tries to see the positives, while Kurt goes on about being pushed out, and that the popular people seem perfect and don’t have issues.  (I feel like there’s some commentary about celebrity culture in here, too)  

But what I like is that Mercedes is constantly positive. Kurt’s kind of a negative person by nature - and she does bring out this brighter side of him, which is great! I do think it’s fun that they throw a nod into Mercedes’s crush.  Kurt kind of shrugs it off as nothing, but it’s a cute moment.  

Also - we get a throwback to Finn saying Mercedes should do the costumes - and Kurt says he’ll be the one helping her do that.  Cracks me up that they use this episode to ‘fix’ some weird/minor issues in the pilot.  Retcons ;) 

I’d also like to point out -- do you know who is standing right behind Mercedes at the moment -- where Kurt can see that blazered back (that he’ll probably see a lot of over his life time - now that I think of it...).  BLAINE!!!!

I’m so glad they let Blaine have a little moment in this episode. 

We get this super cute inner monologue of Kurt wrestling with himself over his crush on Finn as his future husband makes his way behind him.  I love that.  I love that they let that little crossing paths moment happen.  

Anyway - Kurt’s gotten to Mercedes enough that she’s going to call an emergency meeting about Finn joining the club. 

Emergency Meeting

And... we get rather meta in this scene - I love that they mention DSB being a nod to The Sopranos Ending - which was a legit thing I heard way back when.  

But mostly, this is where everyone bands together and decides Finn isn’t so bad.  Yay Finn!  Sure.  

Everyone goes around saying how Finn has been kind to them.  Kurt references his first scene of the show - being able to take off his Marc Jacobs jacket before being thrown in the dumpster (and then twitches - cause comedy).  

As Rachel throws out the message of the episode, and the show, about accepting of each other for being different (sure, fine) we get a camera lingering on Kurt.  And - omg.  This brings me season 2 feels.  And remember the time when Kurt often looked into the middle distance wistfully?  Oh kiddos - it does get better.  Or it has Bette Midler.  Which ever you prefer, really.  

But really - this scene, more than any other in this episode, really captures young Kurt.  I mean, Chris does angst so well, and it’s a nice little reminder of how this lonely and awkward kid grew into something incredibly special.  

Back to the Start

And then we get Don’t Stop Believin’ - as it was way back in the pilot.  It’s edited differently, more so to feature Finn (personally I like the original edit better - but I can see why they did it this way).  

But it’s a sweet little moment.  Remember when this show was filled with hopes and dreams and went out of its way to make people feel special? Remember when this show was an anthem for people who were weird or different or awkward or just plain didn’t fit in?  Remember when this show was fresh and not bogged down by baggage and bts drama?  For a moment - we can listen to Don’t Stop Believin’ and remember way back when and think about all the possibilities that were open to us.  

As a final confession - I would like to say this - I actually like this episode much more than the pilot - and probably would have been more invested in the show had it started with this.  But as much as they tried to recreate the feeling of season 1 - they just didn’t capture the dark and grittiness that accompanied it.  And this is a pilot to something that would have been vastly different.  And that’s okay.   

I am glad that we got this episode (I wish they had done more episodes like this, tbh), and I’m glad we got to dig in just a little deeper to Kurt’s story.  It’s been a fun journey, and I do think it was brilliant to have this episode right before the end.  But as I said at the start - I’m glad it wasn’t.  

There’s room for just a little more of the story, time to close everything up.... 

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Nine

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1717

Author’s Note: This is definitely one of my favorite chapters out of the whole series! I hope you guys love it as much as I do 💛 Also, apologies for any mistakes, I may or may not have edited this at one in the morning :)

You woke up to the sound of someone knocking on your hotel door. The clock on the other side of the room read 2:35, so you figured it had to be important. After an incident a couple weeks back, the crew had quickly learned not to wake you up unless it was an emergency.

You pulled on a jacket as you shuffled towards the door, hoping it made you look a little more put together.

“What’s going on?” you grumbled, eyes still blurry from sleep.

“Good, you’re awake,” Josh smiled.

You made a face. The state that you were in could hardly be called “awake”.

“We’re going on an adventure,” Tyler chimed in.

You blinked a couple more times just to make sure that you weren’t seeing things.

“What?”

“We’re stealing one of the tech vans and going on an adventure,” Josh explained further.

“Stealing?”

“It’s not actually stealing,” Tyler said, shooting Josh a look. “We own the van.”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun to say we stole it,” he grumbled.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Tomorrow is our day off which means management won’t be mad if we sleep in,” Josh smiled.

You sighed, “Let me grab my shoes.”

Both of the boys smiled at this. You quickly slipped on your shoes and grabbed your room key.

“It’s this one!” Josh whispered, pointing to a van up ahead.

He pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked it, causing the lights to flash for a brief moment. You pulled your jacket tighter around you as you crossed the parking lot, eager to get inside the warm car. Tyler snuck ahead and jumped into the passenger seat before you could get to it.

“It’s freezing in here,” you muttered as you reached for the seatbelt.

“I’m working on it!” Josh said.

He was bent low over the steering wheel, trying to figure out how to turn on the car. Tyler was staring him down, his own hands shaking a bit from the cold.

“Here,” Tyler said, grabbing the keys out of Josh’s hands.

Within seconds of Tyler taking the keys, the engine was running and the heater was starting to blow hot air into the car. You leaned forward between the two seats, eager to start warming up your freezing hands.

“What’s the plan?” you asked.

“Snacks, first,” Tyler said.

“Then we explore,” Josh added with a smile.

Five minutes later, the three of you were pulling into the parking lot of a nearby mini-mart. You followed the boys across the parking lot, trying not to laugh at how out of place they looked in their pajama pants and sweatshirts. It was nearly three in the morning, after all.

“What should we get?” Tyler asked, already heading for the snack aisle.

The cashier behind the counter was eyeing the three of you as you moved through the store, grabbing various bags and canisters.

“Get some of those,” you said, pointing to your favorite chips.

“Ok, I think we have enough,” Josh said, looking down at the pile of food in his arms.

Tyler looked down at his pile too, “Agreed.”

You followed the two of them up to the counter, trying to ignore the judgmental stare of the cashier. Your hands had started to shake from the cold again, so you pulled your sleeves down over your hands a bit further.

“Do you want a bag?” the cashier asked. The three of you shared a couple looks.

“I think we’re ok,” Tyler answered.

“Ok, have a nice night.”

“You too!” you called over your shoulder as the boys scooped up your purchases.

“You doing alright, Y/N/N?” Josh asked. “You’re shaking pretty bad.”

“It’s cold,” you shrugged. “I’ve never dealt with being cold very well.”

“One sec,” he said.

Josh pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car, running forward so that he could dump all the food that he was carrying into the backseat. By the time that you had made it to the car, he had pulled his sweatshirt off.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Take it.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not going to steal your sweatshirt. It’s freezing.”

“You’re shaking, Y/N. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not taking it.”

“Well I’m not getting into the car until you take it, so the longer you refuse then the colder I get.”

Knowing that he couldn’t be convinced otherwise, you reached forward and took the sweatshirt with one shaking hand. It was still warm from Josh’s body heat, which proved to be quite helpful in warming your hands back up. You could just barely smell his cologne too, which was nice.

“Get the heater going!” Tyler groaned, smacking the dash impatiently.

“Chill, dude,” Josh laughed as he started the engine.

“That’s the problem,” he groaned. “I’m too chill. Besides, not all of us get to steal your sweatshirt.”

“You get shotgun so it’s only fair I get his sweatshirt,” you chimed in,

“Exactly,” Josh said, although his cheeks were a bit more pink than they had been before.

“So, now what?” you asked.

“We’re going to drive through the city and see what there is to see,” Tyler answered.

“Sweet.”

Your nose was practically pressed up to the glass window of the van as you looked up at the towering buildings of the city. Brightly lit signs and late-night partygoers whizzed by on the streets as Josh drove along. The car was quiet, save for the calm music that Tyler had started playing, as the three of you took in the sights.

“You doing alright, Josh?” Tyler asked.

You pulled yourself away from the window to look at Josh, curious as to what was going on. He did look a bit out of it, which was concerning considering he was driving.

“I’m just getting a bit tired,” he sighed.

“I’m on it,” Tyler said.

For a moment you were worried that Tyler was going to slap him straight across the face, but he only grabbed his phone. The music switched from the chill songs that been playing to the playlist that the boys always listened to before shows to get hyped up. Josh immediately looked more awake as he began to bob his head along to the song. Tyler reached forward and turned the volume up so that you could barely hear yourself think.

“How are you feeling?” Tyler yelled over the music.

“Better!” Josh answered, equally as loud.

“Y/N/N?” he asked, turning to you.

You held up a thumb, unwilling to try and scream over the music. Tyler nodded and returned your thumbs up.

You tried not to laugh too hard as Josh and Tyler performed a duet in the front seat. Tyler was going all in, running his hand along Josh’s arm as he sang to him. Josh was trying his best to keep a straight face as he sang his part, although he did crack the occasional smile.

At one point, Tyler decided to open the window in order to serenade some people on the street. Cold air immediately rushed into the car and within seconds Tyler was rolling the window back up. He had hardly gotten an entire sentence out.

“Bad idea,” he said, shaking his head. “Bad idea.”

“What did you expect?” you laughed.

“Not that, apparently,” he smiled.

You pulled out your phone to check the time. It was now close to five in the morning, meaning that the three of you had been out for close to two hours.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Tyler’s shoulder and motioning for him to turn the music down. “It’s almost five, we should probably head back to the hotel.”

“It’s our day off, who cares if we’re out late?” Tyler said.

“Just because you guys get the day off doesn’t mean that I do. There’s still tons of photos to edit and a day off is the perfect time to catch up.”

“Y/N/N has a point,” Josh chimed in.

Tyler sighed, “Fine, but only because I care about you.”

“Thanks.”

Josh turned and headed back towards the hotel. You leaned back in your seat and stared out at the buildings, singing along quietly to the music. Even though you knew you would be exhausted tomorrow, you were enjoying being out with the boys. Matthew had never taken you out on spontaneous trips like this, and it was nice to feel like you were really experiencing life.

Josh pulled back into the parking lot of the hotel. The three of you climbed out of the car, trying your best to make it look like it had never left the parking lot.

“There, they’ll never suspect a thing,” Josh smiled as he shut the car door.

“Don’t you think they’ll notice that a ton of gas is suddenly missing?” you asked.

The boys shared a look. Obviously this wasn’t a possibility that they had considered.

“We’ll deal with that tomorrow,” Tyler grinned.

You shuffled into the hotel lobby, exhaustion once again beginning to take hold of you. The boys didn’t seem much better. Josh looked like he could fall asleep on the spot.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” you said as you arrived at your door. “Or later today, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”

You closed the door behind you and kicked off your shoes. Your hotel room was a lot warmer than outside had been, so you went to take off your jacket. It took you a moment to remember that Josh had given you his sweatshirt.

Josh’s sweatshirt.

You grabbed it from where you had tossed it on the bed alongside your jacket, ready to take it back to his room, but you hesitated. He wouldn’t miss his sweatshirt for one night. Besides, he was probably already in bed fast asleep.

You pulled the sweatshirt back on over your t-shirt and crawled into bed. Your alarm was set to go off at nine am and you needed all the sleep that you could get. The boys would no doubt try to rope you into another crazy adventure tomorrow, not that you would mind. They had quickly become your best friends.

A smile crept onto your face as you started to drift off to sleep. Tonight had been good.

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