#yes fine this also gets the tea install tag

[arashi-no-saxlphone]

I have a fun fact. Arashi-No-Saxlphone aka the tea install guy cannot fucking STAND chamomile tea. I really don't fucking like it. Unfortunately it's VERY good for you when you're sick. I am still very sick. Finally had to cave and brew a mug of Wretched Yucky Tea I Don't Like. This better go away by Wednesday. I'm not drinking this more than once.

[silentfcknhill]

FAVORITE SHOWS IN POSTERS

Well, we’re back for another installment of this tagged meme, this time for TV shows! I also stole this from/was indirectly tagged by @jcmorrigan. My taste in shows also differs a bit from my taste in movies, as I tend to like a lot of comedy shows with not as many horror ones. I’m not into shows as much as movies overall, but there are some that I am very passionate about so I picked twenty again. So, here we go for part 2, in order:

1. Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend Of Korra (2005-2014)

I'm including these as one show since they take place in the same universe and tell a continuation of the same overall plot. Altogether this is probably the best piece of media to ever exist, including movies. It has so many great characters and villains especially and some of the most epic sequences, charming humor and heartwarming moments ever. I've never met a person who didn't like these shows, even people who normally don't like cartoons. My dad, who is biased against animation? He loved it. My mother? She loved it, watched it with her multiple times. My grandmother? Loved it. My ex-boyfriend? Loved it. My best friend? Loved it. I dare anyone not to, and I'm so glad it's making a resurgence since it's on Netflix for a new generation to enjoy.

2. Black Butler (2008-2014)

I never was big into anime growing up and only really started watching anime when I was like 16 and above, but this is one of the exceptions because holy shit is it ever dark and epic. I'm not sure I'd really recommend it for kids, it's more of a teens and young adults kind of anime and that's probably why it's so good, because it isn't afraid to explore dark and mature topics and do it with all of the intensity and gravitas required to do said topics justice. It has lots of great characters, and the story of demons who make deals with children who have a dark side is fun to watch play out.

3. Seinfeld (1989-1998)

My dad was a huge fan of this show so I watched it growing up since I was a toddler and it became a classic for me. I've watched thw hole show through at least 8 times, and I'll never stop because it never gets old or boring. It's also my only comfort show when I'm having a panic attack because of one time a few years ago when I was having a drug-induced psychosis episode and watching it calmed me down, so now it's like the opposite of a trigger and whenever I'm having an episode or something I watch it to bring me back to reality. For that reason it's more than a show to me, it's a medical treatment and I'm forever grateful to it.

4. The Good Place (2016-2020)

The big four shows made my Michael Schur all made it on this post (The Good Place, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Office and Parks And Recreation), either in the main list of the honorable mentions, but this is my personal favorite of the four. It's so funny, quirky, relatable and basically tailor-made to suit my interests. Not only is it an entertaining and wholesome show, but I think watching it helped me come to terms with a lot of things like mortality, ethics, philosophy, religion and my relationships with other people. It gets  alot of different viewpoints across and if you're a very analytical and philosophical person like me you'll probably enjoy seeing it all play out. Not to mention, every single character is 'favorite character' material. It's rare you find a show with no filler characters in the main cast, but I genuinely can't choose who is best.

5. Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-?)

Another of Michael Schur's shows, this one is just barely under The Good Place and to be honest it was tough to pick my favorite between the two because they're both equally funny. I know it's kind of controversial right now because of the whole law enforcement thing, but I actually think they do a good job of handling social issues in the show and remaining respectful of real-life systemic problems. As for the characters, this is another one of those shows where every single character is gold and I think that tends to be a trend among Schur's shows in general. He produces damn good comedy, and damn good characters. I can't wait to see what they bring next.

6. Rick And Morty (2013-?)

This is unfortunately one of those cases of 'great show, horrible fandom' and for that reason I don't get involved in the fandom even though I love the show. It's a shame because it really is a great show, so funny and, again, such good characters. I think it's a lot more accessible than the fandom likes to claim, so I'm hoping more people will give it a chance and not get put off by the intellectual elitism of the fandom because it does have some of the most entertaining and batshit crazy episodes ever, poking fun of some of the staples of science fiction in media while also poking fun of itself the whole time. Unlike the fandom, the show doesn't take itself seriously and that's enjoyable nowadays.

7. Orange Is The New Black (2013-2019)

While this show is a comedy, it is also a lot of other things and it's probably made me ugly-cry just as many times as it's made me laugh. Well, maybe not as often, but those few scenes (if you've watched the show then you know the ones I'm talking about) made me hysterically sob hard enough to be worth like fifty minor sads. But I didn't even mind because the show is just that good, and it makes you /feel/ something in a real way. Probably because of just how real it gets in terms of telling stories that happen all the time in the real world, sometimes with inevitably tragic endings. But these things do happen every day, and it's important to shine a light on that. It's not just representation for LGBTQ+ but also for POC, the neurodiverse, the poor, and many more. Give it a watch to broaden your perspective!

8. Big Mouth (2017-?)

This is probably the grossest show I've ever seen but by god is it ever funny. Maybe it's because I have an immature sense of humor or something, but I love this show. It definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea and I don't recommend you watch this show with anyone else around because it will get awkward. I think part of its appeal to me is that everyone I talk to who likes it considers it so relatable to their lives growing up but for someone like me who grew up on the autism and asexual spectrum and who was physically an early-bloomer by years, nothing about this show is relatable to me in any way so it makes it all the more crazy and bizarre watching how the people around me must have experienced things. Did y'all really have these experiences with puberty in middle school???

9. Dexter (2006-2013)

I recently heard that this show is coming back for a reboot soon and I'm so excited because this is my absolute favorite drama/thriller show, as evidenced by the fact that it's the highest one on the list so far that isn't a comedy. I love the idea of having a protagonist who is sort of a villain (or at least morally dubious), and the idea of a serial killer who only kills bad people is particularly satisfying for some reason. Maybe because he's the vigilante we all deserve and want in this unjust and evil world of modern times? Idk but the very premise of this show set it up for big things and aside from the ending I think it delivered consistently.

10. Once Upon A Time (2011-2018)

This show took us on some journeys, and you can't deny that. Sure, maybe it didn't always finish what it started and didn't always end in the most satisfying way, but part of its charm is that you didn't care because the experience was just so much fun. They took characters and stories that have been told to death and somehow managed to put a unique and unexpected twist on them, and that alone is admirable. Good twists, good villains, and pretty much every cliffhanger known to man will keep you hooked on binge-watching every episode.

11. RuPaul's Drag Race (2009-?)

A bit different than the other entries on my list in that it's not fiction but a reality competition show, but I couldn't leave Drag Race out because it's just so fucking iconic and perfect. Even when you disagree with the judges or can't stand a certain contestant you'll still be having a good time. It's got the personalities you love to love, the ones you love to hate, and the comedy that's completely meme-able. I mean just how much has this show contributed to pop culture and the internet? More than most of us, henny. I've watched every single season, even the international ones and all of the spinoffs. This show will probably be on for another thirty years when Ru is throwing shade from a hospital bed and I'll still be watching.

12. House (2004-2012)

Some people hate on this show, and I don't get it. I love House. Yes, he's an ass. That's the point. He's supposed to be unlikeable, and that's why I like him. Maybe because I always love the rude, sarcastic, misanthropic jerkass-genius characters for some reason. And I also love procedural shows, so it's a win-win. I also work in the healthcare field so it appeals to me for that reason too, because obviously the whole premise is outlandish which is what makes it funny. Of course it's not realistic for a hospital, so just enjoy the absurdity and don't get too hung up on the details of medical accuracy and professional ethics and you'll be fine.

13. The Office (2005-2013)

The third of Michael Schur's show and the last one that made the main list (sorry Parks And Rec, I love you too but there was just so many good shows to choose from and I saw you last so the nostalgia isn't as strong!) I don't think I need to hype this show up any, it's already a classic and you can't even turn around online without getting hit in the face by a dozen Office memes. You'll have to pry this show and it's relatable characters (especially Michael Scott) from my cold, dead hands.

14. All Hail King Julien/The Penguins Of Madagascar (2008-2017)

Like Avatar/Korra, I also consider this as one show for the sake of this list because it also takes place in the same universe (Madagascar, specifically) and I just couldn't choose one over the other because they're both so perfect. They're funny and I love all the characters (it cut out the weaker links of the Madagascar film series and just focuses on expanding the standout side-characters like King Julien and the penguins). It also delved into some lore, particularly the first show, and even though I didn't also agree with the directions it took (you may have seen me get salty about the ending because I cared too much), I can't deny how much I love it.

15. Bones (2005-2017)

One of the other scarce non-comedy shows on this list, it still has it's funny moments. It's also, like House, another procedural show that involves some medical stuff, but this time on a more scientific and forensic level which is even more interesting. It's nice to see a lead female with Asperger's, too. There's a lot of cop/law enforcement shows where they try to solve crimes, but this one is the best, and I'm saying that as a fan of CSI as well. Don't fight me on this, I'm right. Oh yes, it's corny, it's campy, it's cheesy, but I love every minute of it. Don't watch if you have a weak stomach though.

16. The Simpsons (1989-?)

We all grew up with this show, don't lie. It's been around longer than most people on tumblr have even been alive. Should it have ended seasons ago? Hell yes. But that doesn't take away what the first like 20 or so seasons gave us (there's a lot of argument about when the show jumped the shark, for me it wasn't until much later than the popular consensus). The characters are amazing, but the secret to the show's longevity is that they always return to status quo and there's comfort and nostalgia in that. Bart will still be in 4th grade when you're out there pushing 90. This show is persistent. This show is eternal. This show will outlive us all.

17. Ash Vs. Evil Dead (2015-2018)

Sorely underrated. This show is hilarious, gruesome and campy as hell and I love it. I don't think you necessarily have to watch the Evil Dead movies beforehand in order to get the plot of the show, although it would probably help. In my opinion this show ended way too soon and I'm hoping someday we'll get a comeback because Ash is the reluctant, self-absorbed hero we all need and it's 2020 so at this point there really might actually be a demon-zombie apocalypse and who's gonna save us then if not for the impulsive womanizer with a chainsaw for a hand?

18. Malcolm In The Middle (2000-2006)

Another show I grew up with, I don't think it gets as much credit as it deserves. It has some damn funny episodes and great characters, and it did a lot of the popular sitcom tropes before they were 'cool'. Some other great sitcoms, The Middle in particular, took a lot of influence from this show and it helped pave the way for the future of sitcoms at a time when they were about to make a comeback. If you want a good show about the real experiences of growing up, this is a much more accurate representation of the highs and lows of being an awkward tween from a dysfunctional home.

19. A Series Of Unfortunate Events (2017-2019)

Unlike most people I actually liked the movie version from the early 2000's, and I read the books growing up so I was excited when I saw there was a live action television adaptation of it on Netflix because I felt like they cancelled the movie franchise too soon. I was interested to see how new actors would handle the roles, and I was not disappointed. I wouldn't say I liked either portrayal of the characters better or worse, they both added their own twist to it and this show is a great and loyal adaptation to the books, probably because the author was so heavily involved. He knew just when to stick to the books and when to improve upon what he had done with the benefit of hindsight. This show is basically the books, but remastered.

20. Winx Club (2004-?)

Sort of an odd one out on this list, but I really love this show even as an adult and it may surprise you to learn it is still going on and the most recent season came out last year. They take big breaks sometimes in between seasons, but it's still going strong and in multiple countries. The only thing I don't like about watching this show is all the different and inconsistent dubs since the original show is Italian and each dub only goes for a couple seasons so by the time you get used to one set of voices/names for the characters oyu have to abruptly switch to another, but it's still worth it for the beautiful animation and cool characters (especially the villains!)

Honorable Mentions: 

13 Reasons Why, America's Next Top Model, American Horror Story, Arrested Development, Bates Motel, Battlestar Galactica, Black Mirror, Care Bears, Chernobyl, Courage The Cowardly Dog, Criminal, CSI, Duck Dodgers, Goosebumps, Kenny Vs. Spenny, Kim Possible, Kingdom Hospital, Lazytown, Lost, Making A Murderer, Mayday, Mindhunter, Modern Family, Monster High, Obsession: Dark Desires, Parks And Recreation, Prison Break, Project Runway, Queer As Folk, Queer Eye, Salem, Schitt's Creek, SCTV, Spongebob Squarepants, The Emperor's New School, The Good Doctor, The Haunting Of Hill House/Bly Manor, The Middle, The Pretender, The Walking Dead, The X-Files, Through The Wormhole, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Unsolved Mysteries, Yugioh

Tagging: @bullet-farmer​ and anyone else who wants to!

[binniesthighs]

two tails | reader x minho |

Two 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho 

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff 

Tags:  neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, coworker!hyunjin, florist!jisung, punk!jisung (yeah boiiii), agedup!skz, slow burn, plot-driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food, passive body shaming 

Word count: 5.5k (y e e t we love self indulgence) 

Tagging: @lauraneuuh​

Chapters 

P | ONE | TWO | THREE

busybody noun 

:an officious or inquisitive person. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

There are a couple things that your mother is known for--or rather, a couple things that she has been deemed. 

Mother, wife, friend, matriarch, socialite, unofficial event planner, gossip, show off, professional nagger, and, to certain people, bitch. 

And yet, somehow your mother was intertwined with some of the most prominent circles within the city, and she knew everything about everyone’s business. Frankly, she often didn’t have anything better to to with her time. ” If she had any job at all, it would be calling you every weekend to give her opinions on your rather “less than auspicious” life choices. 

To her, another one of your “less than auspicious” life choices had to do with the way that you had dressed yourself; however little sense this made. 

Your mother sipped at her tea with dainty fingers, barely cracking with age due to her expensive hand creams. 

“Quickly. Go get changed. We don’t have much more time and you’re dallying. It should fit you, just as long as you haven’t put on any more weight.” Her hawk-like gaze inspected your hips and thighs. “Hmm. I think you’ll be fine.” 

Seungmin, where he sat on the couch with perfect posture tapped his feet up and down with discomfort. 

I hate you for doing this to me, he glared at you with despair, hiding it behind the wide smile he performed for your mother. 

“What? Do you not trust me to be alone with your friend here?” 

Your best friend nervously chuckled out in that little puppy-like way that he would. “What? Ahh no, I’ll be fine, go on Y/n, I should be leaving soon anyway, I was just stopping by.” 

Your mother’s eyes followed you up your staircase, watching for the very moment that you closed your bedroom door. The second you did, her snide voice hissed out loud whispers, undoubtedly drilling Seungmin about the usual questions: are you married, where do you live, what’s your profession, what does your family do etc. 

The little metal zipper of the pencil skirt pinched your fingertips as you attacked it up your body. Once again, your mother had underestimated your clothing size. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes looking at the tags for the designer matching skirt and blazer ensemble. There was nothing in your mother’s life that didn’t denote the status that she “worked so hard for.” 

In a way, you hated that you had done this to Seungmin as well. Initially you had thought that having some kind of male presence over when your mother arrived would deter her stabbing remarks about your singledom, but in fact, it has just made it worse. For once in your life, you just wanted to hold something over her. Now, you’d likely traumatized the best friend that you had. 

You nearly slipped on the carpeted stairs in your nylon stockings on the way down, but held fast the the banister, looking a bit like some kind of sad, business-casual, plastic-looking prom queen. 

Seungmin’s eyes widened seeing you in the toning skirt. Likely you knew that he must’ve been keeping his jokes to himself the very best that he could--you wouldn’t hear the end of it later. 

“Wonderful. Let’s get going.” Your mother set down her teacup with a clink. “I’ve got some cosmetics in the car that you can use as well. We’ll be stopping off at the flower shop before we get to the venue. I’ve ordered an arrangement for the bride-to-be.” 

“I feel like a China doll.” You muttered under your breath, catching a little laugh from your friend. Your eyes met as if to ask him if he was okay, which he rolled his eyes as his answer. 

You put on the only pair of kitten heels that you owned: they were brown, banged up and the pleather was cracking a little at the edges. Of course, your mother let out an exasperated sigh upon seeing them. 

“I’ll bring shoes next time.” 

Seungmin politely opened the door for the both of you and the spring morning’s sun washed your face in it’s warmth. The morning was perfect: the exact kind of day that you would spend in your garden writing or reading on the single-person porch swing you had just installed. Dew still held to the Kelly green blades of grass and your cherry blossom tree bowed a little in the breeze. 

“Well, it was nice meeting and speaking with you Seungmin--” 

“--We’ve met before thou--” 

“--You seem to be a strapping and organized young man. I do hope that you consider what we discussed.” 

Seungmin appeared to flush a little, “I-I’ll think about it.” 

You tugged at your friend’s shirt, pulling him in to whisper, “What the hell did she talk to you about?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes fluttered around nervously. “She just kept going on about how she wanted me to--”  

“--Oh, Y/n!” 

From your mother’s surprised expression on the other side of the car, to the way that Seungmin stopped dead in his sentence, you knew exactly who that voice belonged to. 

Your body turned around in slow-motion, hoping that this must have been some kind of nightmare, and that you hadn’t woken up that morning yet and were cozily still tucked in bed. 

If it would have been socially acceptable, you would have hidden behind that car until he walked away, but it was too late considering he already knew you were there. 

Your mother let out some kind of ungodly squeal before rushing towards Minho and taking his hand in hers to shake. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you! I take it that you know my daughter? And who might you be, such a handsome man as yourself???” 

You really did contemplate hiding behind that car. 

It was unfair how you had to run him into at a time when he looked like that. Your mother was nearly eating him with her eyes while Minho looked to you in his confusion. 

Of course when your mother had to see him, he was fresh off of his morning run: white cotton sleeveless shirt, running joggers, a thick headband with sweat dripping down his body in rivets from his forehead to the curves of his toned arms. 

Life was just too fucking unfair.  

“Minho!” Internally, you crawled so far into yourself it was like you were barely there. You squeaked out the words coupled with a poorly-timed voice crack, “I didn’t plan on seeing YOu here!” 

“Minho?!” Seungmin echoed your phrase, grabbing onto your arm with force. 

“Uh, hello, nice to meet you I’m Lee Minho. And yes, I do know Y/n, I actually live a couple doors down--” 

“--A neighbor! How wonderful! I know she doesn’t leave the house that much, but I’m so glad that the two of you have met. Do you live your family..? Or...your wife...?” 

He smiled warmly, polite as always, “No Ma’am, I’m not married, I live with my mother.” 

“Your mother? Well, that’s very honorable.” 

You and your best friend locked eyes upon hearing the answer to the question that both of you had been silently wondering. 

With a little eyebrow raised, he gave you a smirk, before braiding his hand through his locks strung with sweat. “I also live with my cats too.” 

“Cats?” Your mother tried her best to hide the distaste in her mouth. “That’s...honorable as well. Taking care of animals is...hm, well, Y/n get in the car, time is ticking!!” 

Your mother’s shrill voice was clipped by the sound of the car door closing behind her. You and your best friend choked in silent laughter together. 

“Are you sure I don’t look ridiculous?” You patted down your itchy grey blazer. 

Seungmin nodded, “Do you want me to tell you the truth? Not your colors. But, you’ll just have to live with it.” 

“I think that you look nice.” Minho’s compliment melted into your skin like honey. “But I agree, the colors don’t work the best. Sorry.” 

“Oh. Thank you...” Your cheeks warmed, “Sorry! God, I’m-this is Seungmin, my-my friend Seungmin, sorry I didn’t introduce you both, my head is just--” 

“--Nice to meet you. Finally.” Seungmin’s expression turned a bit more stoic, a stark contrast to his softer features. 

“Nice to meet you as well.” 

“Okayyyy, well, I’ll just...get going then. See you both...later.” 

Seungmin slammed the door behind you, leaving you with your huffing mother in the car. 

“All of these handsome men around you and you can’t lock down one? I can’t believe you...” She threw her makeup bag on your lap. “I’ll play matchmaker if you want me to, I don’t mind, but you know that I have a lot going on already--” 

“--Haven’t you already started? Don’t pretend like you didn’t tell Seungmin something. Seungmin is my friend, mom.” 

“I just don’t get you. Aren’t you ever a bit sad that you don’t get invited to things like this since you have no female friends...?” 

“Honestly? I don’t really care--” 

“--You should. Thank God that you have me.” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

The front windows to the floral shop winked in the morning sun and the gold lettering of the signage glistened with a similar glow. On the display, there were several dozens of different types of flowers all arranged into different glass vases, tied with bows or swaddled in burlap. The arrangements of roses, chrysanthemums, peonies, daises, sunflowers and other wildflowers appeared to be freshly cut, and beaded with water droplets. 

“Here. Take my card. If any of them seem to be brown at all, tell them that you won’t pay until they fix it.” 

You took the little plastic card from her red painted nails. “Will do.” 

There was a little bell hung over the shop door, and it tinkled when you entered like fairy chimes. The entire place seemed a little magical: the kind of place that you would find yourself reiterating in your writings. On the marble tiled floors, flecks of dirt seemed to gather in the grout. 

The golden brass counter stretched on for nearly the whole length of the shop, and held a display case which doubled as a cooler holding smaller things like corsages and boutonnières. 

“Can I help you?” 

The man approached you wiping the dirt off of his hands onto his canvas apron which was stained with smudges of green and brown. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoos adorning his arms in beautiful patterns of black with muted colors of yellow, lavender and pink. They were nearly all floral in design and reminded you of the drawings from a botany book. His shaggy dark hair had a bit of a curl to it that tasseled over his eyes. His smile too was devastatingly charming, decorating it was a black hooped lip ring. 

“Here to pick up an order?” 

“Y-yes, for L/n.” 

“I just finished that one up, lucky for you.” He palmed through the little stack of receipts near the register. “I’ll go get it real quick.” 

It was criminal how fast you found your heart beating after hearing how strikingly soothing his voice had sounded. You also found your head spinning over how familiar he seemed, like someone you had met before, but couldn’t place where. 

He had brought the sizeable arrangement over, and upon seeing it, you knew that your mother must’ve asked them to pull out all the works. Not only were flowers like this a bit of an unusual bridal shower gift, but it was just one more way for her to show off. The moment that the two of you would arrive with that, heads would turn, and that was exactly what she wanted. It was so large, you had to crane a little to see the florist behind it. 

“That’ll be 360.” 

Never had you been more thankful to pay for a gift with someone else’s money. 

When you passed him the card, you noted the little scrapes up and down his hands and forearms, looking a bit like cat scratches.

“It’s the roses.” He chuckled. “This job is a lot more dangerous than you would think.” 

“Oh.” A heat in your cheeks rose along with his observation of you. 

“Beautiful day isn’t it?” He tapped at the register, then nodded to the sunlight streamlining in from the windows. There were little rainbows speckling the store from the prisms hung above the displays. 

“I-it really is.” 

Your eyes wandered to his nametag which looked like he had decorated with hand-drawn stars. Jisung. Once again, he caught your eyes, slyly rolling his tongue over that black hoop. 

“It’s the kind of day that makes me wish I wasn’t cooped up in here and doing something else; going somewhere else. You seen the cherry blossoms yet?” 

“I-I have one in my yard.” 

“Oh really? It’s my favorite time of year because of them.” 

His smile was a bit in the shape of a heart, and the way that his eyes smiled along with it was just as charming as the rest of him. 

Blaze. 

He was Blaze. 

Quite literally, never in your life could you have said that you had felt your heart skip a beat, but, you imagined that there’s a first time for everything. 

He scribbled down something down on the receipt, handing you both the card and the slip. 

“Have a good one, ‘kay?” 

Had it been socially acceptable, you would have slapped yourself square in the face, right then and there, to snap yourself out of your awe. 

“Yo-you as well.” 

It was a miracle you didn’t drop that expensive-ass floral arrangement getting out of there as fast as you did. 

“What took you so long? People will start wondering where we are.” 

Your mother said a couple more chastising remarks, but they faded away once you looked at the crinkled piece of paper on your hand: 

I hope to see you again, Blossom. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

“Y/n!!! Oh my god, I am so happy to see you. I’ve been decaying, simply drying out in this office all by myself.” 

You swatted your melodramatic friend by the backside of his head, subsequently ruffling up his perfectly primped long, blond hair. 

“Shut up. You’re surviving just fine without me.” 

Hyunjin lowered his voice into a rather loud whisper, “Everyone here is just so boring.” 

“I don’t know what you’re expecting ‘Jin. It’s a publishing company, all we do is read here. You kind of did it to yourself too. Hell, you edit the children’s books!! You don’t have a thing to complain about.” 

“Are you sure that you can’t take an office here? We could eat lunch together, make coffee together from that broken-ass coffee machine, and bitch about Mr. Yoon together. By the way, what are you doing here anyway besides not seeing me?” 

“Picking up a couple manuscripts. I finished the ones from before.” 

“You’re inhuman. I don’t know how you get through 300+ pages over a weekend.” 

You shrugged, “It’s just what I like to do, that’s all. And, no, I will not be taking an office here, not when I have my classes too.” 

“Aren’t you the perfect symbol of adulthood.” Hyunjin pulled up for you the creaky plastic office chair from the empty desk next to his.

“Tell that to my mother, I think she’d have a different oponion.” 

“Screw your mother--and you can tell her that I said that too.” Your coworker fiddled with his white collar, pulling it from his neck. You knew how much he hated those and would have much rather preferred the silky low-cut ones which had become his trademark. 

“If only it were that easy.” 

“How’s Princess Bomi doing?” 

“My cat or the story?” 

“I was talking about the story, but sure, tell me about your cat too.” 

Hyunjin was a sarcastic little shit, but that was why you loved him. Seungmin tended to be the same sometimes--you surmised that perhaps you made the same type of people gravitate towards you. 

“It’s been pretty well received actually, and I think I’m just about done with the first book, there’s probably only a few chapters left. I just passed 8,000 reads.” 

“Wow, that’s actually...really impressive. I mean it.” 

When he wasn’t being a sarcastic little shit, Hyunjin was actually a genuine friend. He had been supportive of your writing ever since he forced the information out of you a few months ago after seeing a your chaotic notes mixed in with your manuscript ones. Of course, he had laughed at the prospect of you naming your main character after your cat, but he understood otherwise. 

“You’ve been getting good feedback?” 

“Mmhm! They really like Bomi as a character, that, and it seems like Blaze has some fans too...” 

Upon saying the same, the boy from the flower shop sneakily crept back into your head along with that stupidly Blaze-like smile of his--or at least, the smile that you had always pictured Blaze to have. 

Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Earth to Y/n? Where did you go?” 

“Huh? Oh sorry, I think I just got...lost in thought.” 

“I said I think that you should really consider brining it to the company. What if they want to publish it? I think that it’s worth a shot. You said yourself that its successful online. What makes you think that people wouldn’t be interested in the print version?”

“I--Hyunjin, Princess Bomi is kind of a personal thing...” 

“--Why do I even bother!” In his mock disgust, Hyunjin crossed his flabbergast arms against his chest. “I’m only trying to give you a helpful suggestion.” 

Above the two of you, the florescent white lights bore down on you with a harsh luminescence. 

“But--” You shyly picked at the hem of your blouse, “I could use your help with something else.” 

“What?” 

“What do you suggest that I wear...to meet someone’s mom?” 

Hyunjin practically leapt out of his chair and three feet into the air. 

“YOU’RE MEETING SOMEONE’S MOTHER?! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!!” 

“Get your ass back down in your seat.” You whipped your head around to see your coworkers concerned glances. “Yes, I am.” 

“Thank God that you asked me. This is a serious matter.” 

“I can’t exactly ask Seungmin...so...” 

“Don’t you worry! I know exactly what you can do. So,” His voice turned sing-songy, “~What’s he like~ And how come you didn’t tell me about this sooner??” 

“-Because I knew that you would have this exact same reaction.” 

“I promise I’ll calm down, okay, go:” 

“Well, he’s my neighbor, and I’ve only met him a few weeks ago, and he’s got cats, and he’s really sweet and not to mention hot as well but in like kind of a... cozy, librarian kind of way? Anyway, he wears cardigans--and you know that I’m a sucker for a good cardigan--and I’m convinced that the universe is trying to get me to destroy him but, that’s beside the point--” 

“Slow down slow down! Literally all of the words you said just now don’t make sense together.” 

You wheeled your chair closer to the man across from you, “And then he asked me to meet his cats and his mom or maybe just his cats or his mom, he was kinda unclear about that now that I think about it...” 

“So he’s hot and has cats, hmm, sounds right up your alley.” 

“I-I guess.” 

“Are you sure he’s not, you know, trying to be neighborly?” 

You punched Hyunjin’s arm so hard you jiggled your glasses on your face. “Don’t ruin this for me.” 

“Sorry I brought it up! Ok, ok, I think I know what you should do. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help you bag this sexy librarian man?” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

“I sure as hell hope that you’re not trying to be neighborly.” 

You smoothed down your freshly ironed blouse: a floral pattern with birds, something “light and springy” just as Hyunjin had recommended. The pleats in your trousers were in shape as well. He had suggested too that you tied your hair up, something about it being professional and “dateable.” 

Bomi sauntered up to you while you inspected your outfit in the full-length mirror. Her gorgeous green eyes were squinted after her day-long nap, and she yawned while she brushed up against your leg. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure Bomi?” You bent down to pat her head, which she promptly shied away from. “You think that this looks good? Mother-worthy?” 

Bomi blinked. 

“Thanks for your input Bo.” 

Another yawn. 

Your nightstand held your little jewelry tree, and from it you took a dainty silver necklace that hung just above the neckline of your blouse, as well as the thin tan wristwatch that you wore once in a blue moon. 

The watch face read 5 o’clock exactly.  

“Shit! Shit shit shit shit!.” 

Bomi scrambled out of your way as you flew around the room trying to find a matching pair of socks. You stopped one more in front of the mirror. Your mother’s words always did find a way of seeping back into your skin like poison. Even if you had looked “nice” a nagging voice deep down echoed: “you’ve only ever been less than auspicious. Why don’t you ever change that?” 

“Screw your mother.” Hyunjin had said. 

If it only was that easy. 

Your footsteps clomped down the stairs, and you threw on the same pair of kitten heels. 

“Shit. The gift.” You slapped your forehead, cursing your horrid memory. 

“And don’t forget to bring his mother something. A gift. Something small but thoughtful. Something that she can use. Mothers eat shit up like that.” 

You frantically searched your entire home for something that resembled a gift. After a few moments of searching, you had resolved to go without it--you’d explain that it was in the mail, or misplaced, or anything but the fact that you didn’t have one. You grabbed your humorous amount of keychains on your keys, eyes catching that little box of complimentary chocolates from the bridal shower.  

“Good enough.” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

One more time, you checked your reflection in the glass door leading to Minho’s mother’s townhouse. 

“This is fine, you can do this. Don’t screw this up, you’re fine, you’re fine.” 

Minho opened the door, looking as confusingly adorable and downright gorgeous as you had grown to know him as. This time, he had ditched the cardigan for a sky blue sweater that still pooled at his palms. Seeing how casually he had dressed, you instantly felt overdressed, and made a mental reminder to cuss out Hyunjin when you got the chance later. 

“Come in,” He gently ushered you to the spot where you switched on shoes for slippers.

“You-um, look really nice.” Minho pushed up his glasses up his nose bridge, “Really pretty.” 

“Th-thank you, um, you too.” 

He snickered, “No one has called me pretty before.” 

“Shit, Sorry, that was weird, sorry, I’m just kinda...nervous.” 

“No, not at all, I don’t mind. I appreciate the compliment.” 

You stood at the doorway, awkward silence permeating the air. Suddenly, you remembered the chocolates in your hands. 

“Oh, this is for you and your mother, I thought I might as well bring something over...” 

Minho took it from you, and you prayed that he wouldn’t think too much of the packaging that just looked a little too wedding-y. 

“Thank you for this.” He popped the box open excitedly, “What kind are they?” 

It took a couple seconds, but you watched in horror as his expression turned from thrilled to deeply confused. 

“What is it?” You craned your neck over to see.

“Are they...supposed to look like that?” 

Inside of the little plastic compartments, each of the chocolates had melted into blobs pathetically and swirled together making one huge, brown, melted--and then solidified again--chocolate mess. 

“Oh my god.” Your throat felt as tight as a knot in your embarrassment. “They’ve...” 

Minho hurriedly closed the box. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it.” He tried the best he could to suppress his laughter. “It’s still about the same.” 

“No it’s not.” You whined out the words. “Don’t let your mother can’t see them, oh shit, oh shit.” 

“What happened to them?” 

Your horrid memory suddenly let you remember the fact that those chocolates had stayed in the car after the bridal shower when you had gone to visit your mother’s home. 

“Nothing good, just-hide them--” 

“Minho? Is that Y/n? Is she here?”

“--Hide it, quick!!!” 

Minho shoved the box behind a large houseplant, still hiding his laughter caught in his throat. 

“Ahhh Y/n! It’s so good to meet you at last! I’ve heard so much about you!” 

You greeted Minho’s mother with a bow, throwing the box of chocolates a disdainful glare. She was a gentle looking woman who appeared to be a little older than your own, or,  perhaps the same age. You wouldn’t be surprised if your mother had paid enough to procure the elixir of life; sounds like something she would have done. 

“I’m so happy to meet you as well. Thank you for inviting me in.” 

“Minho!!” His mother nudged his arm, “You didn’t tell me how pretty she was.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat when you gave another little bow in thanks. “Your home is really lovely too.” 

“Oh, it was all Minho’s idea, I’m just the one that did the cooking. I’m always happy to cook for a neighbor.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I’ve got a couple more things to prepare, Minho, you go show her the cats, I’m sure that she’d like that--I hear that you have a cat too?” 

You nodded. “Are you sure that you don’t need any help?” 

“No no, you both go on, I’ll handle this.” 

By each passing moment, this all started to feel a bit more like a playdate than an official meeting of one’s mother. Here you were, a grown woman, and you had gone over to someone’s house to play with their cats. Maybe you weren’t as much of a grown woman as you thought you were. 

“Over here.” Minho guided you to the living room: it was a modest one with furniture that looked to be very old, with beautiful traditional pictures of landscapes with assorted baby photos hanging on the walls. Everywhere, there was little pieces of evidence of the residence of cats: cat toys, scratching pads, a couple cat carriers and the cat tree nearest the window. At the top tier of the structure, there was a white and orange cat lazing with a foot slung over the side. 

“Doongie?” You carefully approached the furball to pet it’s tiny paw. 

“That one is Soonie, I have two cats that look a bit similar. Doongie is probably somewhere strange. You never know cats. Mine really like hopping on top of the china cabinet; it scares my mother half to death” 

“I can imagine.” 

Soonie remained unbothered, little cat body peacefully sleeping. 

“Over here is Dori, the youngest one.” 

Dori was a bit striped, with a grey body and a white belly. The smaller cat was rolled up into a perfect cinnamon roll on the loveseat. The cat stirred hearing it’s name, and keened into Minho’s touch when he scratched its head. You copied the touch, and Dori granted you the same permission. 

“You cats are so sweet...wanna trade?” 

“I...think that I’m good with the cat’s I’ve got. But that is a tempting offer.” 

Making a rather loud appearance was Doongie, who ambled into the room with a series of loud yowls and meows, looking up to both you and Minho with striking yellow eyes.  

“Doongie!” You crouched down to give the cat scratches under it’s chin, making it purr slightly. “Did you miss me? I hope that you’ve been staying out of trouble.” 

Minho’s gentle brown eyes observed your interactions with his cats, simply letting you play around with them as you wished. Every once and a while, you could catch his eyes following you with a contented little grin on his face.

There was something so domestic and comforting about the whole scene. Inside the townhouse that felt well loved and with the smell of a homecooked meal in the air, there was something so peaceful about it all that was a little foreign to you. 

“Minho! Please come help me with the bowls!” 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ 

Crickets chirped along the pathway and into the spring’s chilly nighttime air. Minho had offered to walk you home, even though you were just two houses down. Because of this, it seemed as if the two of you were walking in slow motion, taking one step after the other as slowly and carefully as you could. Absentmindedly, you both wanted just a little more time. 

After spending the night being on your best behavior, you felt as if you could finally breathe. Granted, you had grandly spilled soup all over Minho’s mother, but this seemed to diffuse quickly once she had laughed raucously at the event. She was a sweet woman, with a kind soul, much like Minho. Her lightly wrinkled face shone like the sun and made you feel loved even without knowing her much. 

In many ways, you wondered what it would be like having a mother as such. It was likely however, maybe you just weren’t supposed to know. 

Minho cast his gaze up to the sprinkling of stars spread out over the vast sky: most of them invisible due to the closeness to the city. 

“You know, I’m starting to really like living out here, in the suburbs I mean. Everything in the city was so fast and chaotic, it’s nice to sit back and let things be still for a while.” 

“You don’t miss it?” 

“Not as much as I did. The city...holds a lot of memories for me; some of them I’d rather forget. Being out here feels like a new start.” 

The two of you stopped near the light coming from your porch. In the soft glow of yellow, coupled with the gentle navy blue tint of the night, Minho looked ethereal--perhaps even a little fairy-like. 

You cursed out your writer brain for thinking of your little made up world at a time like this when you had this boy, real, in front of you. 

“I had a nice time with you tonight.” Minho shoved his hands into his pants pockets with a cute little smirk. “I think my cats are a fan of you as well, so, that puts a good word in for you in my book.” 

“Me too. Thank-thank you for inviting me.” 

“Next time, we should do something different, I heard actually that there’s a meteor shower in a couple weeks.” 

“Wait, next time?” 

“Or, we could do something sooner if you’d like.” 

“You want to do something else? With me?” 

“Yes you, who else would I be talking about?” Minho capped his sentence with a little snicker. 

“S-sorry, I just...don’t understand...why would you... I mean, I don’t do too much besides kinda hide in my house with my cat...there isn’t really a lot of things interesting about--” 

Minho squatted down, sweeping something off of the sidewalk. It wasn’t until he had put it in your hair that you had realized he had taken one of the cherry blossoms from your tree to tuck it behind your ear. His head titled slightly as he admired the decoration, fingers lingering by the side of your cheek for a moment. 

“I disagree.” He hushed, barely saying the words louder than a whisper. “Even though you you tent to get yourself into...situations--not that I mind anyway, you are special. Hell, and I haven’t even known you that long. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” 

Had it been socially acceptable, you would’ve kissed him right then and there. 

If only it were that easy. 

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Chapter 25 

There Blaze was, standing, simple, cuts on his face and that little scar on his eyebrow twitching. The campfire illuminated his eyes with the flames, creating that brazen fire that he had gotten his name from. 

Bomi knew him well. In fact, she thought she had known him better than most--a fact which she selfishly kept to herself. Blaze was everything she had known for the past year or so, and the time had interwoven their paths in ways that she had never expected. Before her was a person who knew her too, perhaps better than she knew herself. 

Blaze’s callused hand rose to cup her cheek, thumb rubbing over her own battle scars. 

“If you’ll not have me, please know Princess, you are the strongest warrior, bravest leader, and wisest friend that I have had the pleasure of knowing. I’ll stay by your side until I breathe my last breath.” 

With a shaking hand, Bomi took Blaze’s hand resting on her cheek. She memorized the way that his skin felt on hers, making a million silent wishes that she knew would never come true. 

“You and I, we both know that fate would have other plans for us...I’m sorry.” 

Bomi turned from the warmth of the campfire, and the way that his eyes held hers. 

She wished a million wishes, and he was nearly every one one of them. 

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Eight

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo….. How are we doing…………….

Warnings: ....Less angst than last week? I think? I mean by my gauge anyway y’all might disagree

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: “I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.” 

Can we talk? I had taken my time in answering Una’s message.

Maybe it was a little petty of me, but it was the first time she’d reached out to me in months, and I was tired. Despite the fact that the armistice between the Federation and the Klingons was in effect ahead of the Peace Accord in Paris, my work had yet to be completed. I’d been selected and summoned back to the Academy by Starfleet High Command to work closely with a number of other Comms specialists and the Klingons to draw up a treaty that would be beneficial to both sides, and would help to ensure that the armistice held. Are you going to hang up again? Was my answer, finally. Her response stunned me - but then, Una typically found a way to catch me off-guard. It would be difficult for me to hang up on you in person. 

-- I had this inexplicable urge to hug her, if only to ensure that we were both there, both real and solid, but I knew that Una was not a hugger. Instead I nodded to her as she slid into the booth seat across from mine. I’d taken up brief residence in one of the vacated mess hall spaces in the Academy while I’d waited for her. “How much time have you got?” She asked. “About an hour. It’s technically lunch break.” “We can get something to eat.” “I’m not hungry.” “...How are you?” She asked after a moment. “I’m not sure you deserve that answer.” I didn’t mean to snap, but— seeing Una in person, seemingly unchanged after what I had gone through - after Somonia, after the war, and after she had been so harsh to me, I was not in a mood to be warm and cuddly. Una nodded a little, unflinching. “I do deserve that,” She conceded, “I was...Processing. I should not have said that to you, it was a blatant disregard for your feelings. I’m sorry.” “...Well,” I bristled a little, “Thank you for that.” I glanced out of the window for a moment, gathering myself before asking, “So, why are you on Earth?” “There was a hitch in installing the new Holographic Communications System, it had to be brought in to space dock.” “Crew’s in one piece?” “Yes.” “Are you the only one down here?” “...Yes.” I lowered my gaze to my hands again. “Why did you want to meet with me?” I asked. Una stood and walked around to my side of the booth, sliding in to sit beside me. I didn’t turn to look at her, and she didn’t push for me to. “When...Spock told me that you were alive,” She said softly, “When he brought the timeline to me, the evidence… There was some little part of me that almost hoped he’d made it all up-- Not because I wanted you to be gone,” She hurried to explain, “But because I… Could not fathom the fact that we had left you behind. And seeing your medical file, reading the briefing that you gave Command-- the hell that you went through. If we’d turned back when Cornwell contacted us--” “You couldn’t have known--” “That shouldn’t have stopped us,” Una insisted, “We should’ve gone back, should’ve...Made sure.” I glanced over at Una to find her staring ahead of us, shoulders and jaw tight. “It was hard, watching the crew learn that you were gone. You were missed, you were needed, but seeing the news spread that you were alive, that you’d been drafted into service for the war so soon after you were found— And that we were constantly being told to stay out of the war on top of it … I was angry. I focused that anger in the wrong place when we spoke,” She admitted, turning to meet my eye, “I have regretted that every single day.” I felt tears prickling at my eyes and I lowered my eyes to the gold fabric of her uniform, clenching my jaw. “I’m not apologizing for not telling you,” I shook my head, "I’m sure Cornwell was monitoring my communications, and I don’t know what the repercussions would’ve been-- for either party.” “Considering the Admiral’s tendency to run a tight ship, as it were, I understand. I think you did the right thing...Commander,” Una tipped her head forward as she addressed me by my new rank. I rolled my eyes a little, a small smile creeping onto my face. It had been a battlefield promotion for the sake of my ability to command a small vessel during the Battle of Xisad, one of the last battles fought during the war. Cornwell had promoted me herself. “You know I had to take the Bridge Officer’s test when I got back?” I told Una, slouching down in my seat a little bit, “Just to make it official. They told me that if I didn’t, my rank would revert. I almost let it go.” “Why didn’t you?” “Durling.” “Eli Durling?” I nodded, humming, “Bastard goaded me, said I wouldn’t pass first try, so it wasn’t worth bothering.”

Una smiled. “Stubborn as stone,” She shook her head. “Don’t start,” I began to laugh, and it soon overtook the two of us. As it settled, I gathered my courage to ask the question that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since Una had told me she was the only one on Earth. “Where is he?” “He’s on Starbase five at the moment. Visiting someone.” “Is he alright?” “Yes.” “And he...He knows?” Una frowned, nodding a little. “Of course he knows,” She confirmed, “You haven’t spoken to him?” “No. He hasn’t reached out and I...I didn’t, I wasn’t sure,” I admitted. I suddenly felt jittery-- sharp, and sensitive. It was like I’d taken a gulp of the worst kind of Koutovian tea. “So--” I cleared my throat, “When do you leave?” “In a few hours, most likely. Starfleet’s set us another mission. Do you know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. I don’t know how long we’ll be working on the treaty and Command doesn’t want to set me to another post prematurely.” “I understand.” I could see the disappointment in Una’s eyes, but rather than say anything, she just tipped her chin up a little bit. “Do you think you’ll leave Communications for Helm now?” She prodded, and I snorted. We both knew the answer to that. 

-- Tilly and I nearly knocked one another over with the force of our embrace. I squeezed her as tight as I could, grinning from ear to ear, wholly uncaring that the transporter room crew and the Cornwell were nearby. “I have to check on where you’re staying, but um-- I’ll come and find you and show you and-- excuse me, Admiral,” Tilly ducked around Cornwell before hurting out of the transporter bay.

The Admiral arched a brow at the sight of me before gesturing for me to follow her. I fell into step beside her, glancing around. The Discovery hadn’t changed since my last stint on it, of course, but it was surreal to be back on the ship that I thought had been destroyed. But as nice as it was to be on a starship with no threat of war, I was not in the best mood. Treaty completed, peace talks aside, Peace Accord signed, I had been afforded leave. Shortly after that leave had been granted, I'd received a message from Admiral Cornwell. 

“I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.” “You’re not in uniform.” “No. I’m not, because technically, officially, I am not here,” I reminded Cornwell as I cast her a sidelong glance, “Were those not your exact words?” “They were.” “Well, then if I am still technically, officially on leave,” I gestured to my civvies, “Then why would I be in uniform?” “You’re in a fine mood.” “Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you pulled me off of leave for an assignment?” I retorted. “The Discovery has been tasked with chasing down signals that have appeared in varying points throughout the galaxy.” I frowned. “I thought that the Enterprise had been tasked with that directive.” “It had, but it experienced catastrophic system-wide failures. The Discovery took over the mission.” “And I’m here because…?” “There is a colony on the way to the next point that’s in need of monitoring. Starfleet is not interfering, but we’re keeping an eye on them. We need you--” “A Tag and Run?” I asked, stunned, “You’ve really pulled me off of leave for a Tag and Run? Why not pull Durling?” “I have. He’ll be here in a few hours to oversee the op. I’ve business to attend to elsewhere.” “Of course you do.” “Commander, I may’ve tolerated a certain amount of this disposition in the midst of the war, but please trust that I have no such patience for it right now.” I fought the urge to snap back and roll my eyes. “I thought that Tag and Runs were only sanctioned outside of the war in the most extreme cases.” “Trust when I tell you that this is extreme, and sanctioned by Starfleet.” Cornwell stopped at the turbolift, turning to face me. “There’s something else that I ought to make you aware of.” “Oh, there’s more?” “I need you to keep your head.” I looked over her face, at the slight grimace on her lips, and that sharp, jittery feeling bubbled back up in my stomach. “...Kat, what--” “Admiral, a question.” I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but turn at the sound of his voice-- my body was moving before I even fully registered it, half turned from Cornwell, half turned toward Pike. It almost didn’t register, at first, that it really was him. I hadn’t seen him anywhere but my mind’s eye, my dreams, for the longest time. He looked… Well. Almost just as I remembered. There were maybe a few more streaks of grey around his temples, but I didn’t get a good enough look. My brain finally caught up with my body, took in his bewildered expression - the narrowed eyes, his parted lips, the scrunch of his brow - and I turned my head away, eyes set on the turbolift panel. “...You couldn’t have mentioned this before I beamed aboard?” I asked Cornwell quietly. “I wasn’t sure if another ship would be in range. False hope would’ve been cruel,” Cornwell's voice was no louder than mine, her eyes set on the Captain.  I turned my head a little as the turbolift doors opened and Tilly stepped out. “Oh! Wow, just who I was looking for--” She glanced between the three of us, taking in the tense silence, “I...Am sorry to interrupt, but, um, your lodgings are ready, Commander.” “Thank you,” I mumbled. “Commander?” Pike’s repetition was hushed, almost awed. I turned my head toward him a little, unable to meet his eye. He’d missed so much-- and what the hell had I missed? “If you’ll excuse me,” I answered tightly, stepping onto the turbolift with Tilly. “See if you can find a uniform,” Cornwell watched me, “And try to give Durling less lip.” “No guarantees,” I retorted before the doors slid shut. -- 

“That seemed… Tense. Like cage-fight-with-a-Mugato-tense,” Tilly commented over the hum of the turbolift. She was right - it felt it, too. I couldn’t get that look Pike had given me out of my mind. It was buzzing through me; it was a stone in my stomach; it was behind my eyelids when I blinked. “Speaking from experience?” I tried to tease as we stepped off. “Ah-ha,” Tilly shook her head, “No.” I gave her a small shrug, following her down the hall, “Pike used to be Captain of the Enterprise.” “Right.” “And I haven’t seen him since…” “Since he thought you were dead,” It dawned on Tilly, “Oh… Oh that’s worse than a Mugato.” “It’s like two Mugatos.” “Well, here we go,” She stepped aside to let me in, “You’re gonna have a roomie, but it won’t be me.” “Who’s it going to be?” I asked as I stepped inside. “Well, it’ll be me, and if you don’t like that, you can sleep in the frickin’ cargo hold.” I froze again at the sound of that dry, almost raspy voice. “Jett?” I asked, stunned. “Is that a yes or a no to the cargo hold?” She added, standing from her bed, “I mean you don’t actually have a choice, but it only seems polite to ask.” I flexed my hands before I asked, “Can I-- Are you-- Can I hug you?” “Once,” Jett conceded, “But make it a quick one.” I didn’t approach her too fast, didn’t hug her too tightly, just patted her shoulder twice and took a step back. “What, um…” I asked lightly, throat growing tight, “What happened?” “It’s a long story-- And you haven’t even heard it yet,” Jett frowned, watching me step back to what would be my temporary bed and lower myself down onto it, putting my head in my hands. “Hey,” Tilly sat down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it, “What is it?” I couldn’t answer. I just shook my head a little as I took deep breaths, trying to slow my pounding heart, trying to steady my breathing. “Are you mouthing ‘pie’? I should get her a snack?” I heard Jett ask Tilly-- which made me laugh through the few tears that were leaking from my eyes. “Pike,” I mumbled, “She’s mouthing Pike.” I could understand why the two were trying to be careful with me. I surely seemed panicked by what should’ve been amazing news. And it was amazing. I was overjoyed, relieved that Jett was alright, but-- between the mission, Tilly, Pike, and Jett, I was overwhelmed. And Pike had looked right at me -- Right at me. He’d seemed so startled, like I was a figure that had stepped out of a dream-- or a nightmare: unknowable, unplaceable, but strangely familiar and to be dissected. Maybe that was one small consolation. While Cornwell hadn’t warned me, she'd been remiss in warning him, too.

I tipped my chin up from my hands, looking between Jett and Tilly and giving them a weak, watery smile. “I won’t lie, though, pie sounds amazing right now.” "Sure! We can do that,” Tilly said quickly, more than happy to put a baked band-aid over this hurt, “Jett, you coming?” Reno shrugged, “I could eat.”

Tag list: @angels-pie​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​ ; @inmyowncorner​  ; @tardis-23​ ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime​ ; @paintballkid711​ ; @katrynec​​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @blueeyesatnight​

[parachutingkitten]

Season 5 Analysis

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: I am going to be applying the concept of criticism to a TV show you presumably love and adore as much as I do. If you do not want your idea that the show is immaculate to be challenged, I would not advise reading past this point.

Additional Disclaimer: This includes criticism of Nya’s arc, so if you’re the type of person to get catty about this subject, turn back now.

Mood for this season: It’s spoopy time.

You don’t need to, but if you are interested, and haven’t seen my analysis of past seasons, you can find those here:

Pilot - Season 1 - Season 2 - Season 3 - Season 4

You can also find all of these, and future installments, on my blog using the tag #analysis 

Hey everyone! I’m still doing these things! Let’s see, when was my last one? Over two years ago...? Yikes, I owe y’all an apology. I really didn’t mean to put these off that long. Anyway, get ready to hate me, cuz although (for the most part) this seems to be the fandom favorite season… I think it’s overhyped. I know, don’t kill me. I’ll explain myself. I don’t think it’s bad or anything, it’s very well structured, but I definitely wouldn’t rank it among my favorites. First, for a little context, I am making a one second of every ninjago episode video right now, so I’ve been binging the series and all it’s shorts back to back, so I think I’ll have a bit more to say about connective tissue between seasons, and hopefully you guys can look forward to more of these analyses between now and the new year when I’m releasing that video. I’m also officially a film major now so… sorry if I come of as extra pretentious or get too deep. Anyway, let’s jump into the thick of it, shall we? 

Plot

This is probably the area I have the fewest number of complaints about. This season has a breakneck pace and it keeps everyone busy. I think that’s why people like it. Everyone’s favorite has something to do. Which brings me to the question… which ninja’s season is this? Lloyd is on a lot of the promotional stuff, but he’s possessed and out of the picture for over half the season, so that can’t be right. Cole turns into a ghost, and the season is a ghost season, but that can’t be right cuz I don’t know that I’ve ever heard anyone claim it was his. Nya reaches her true potential, maybe it’s hers? Well, she does have a large b-plot, but she is consistently not a part of the a-plot. Kai has a whole thing with being protective of Lloyd, he has his fear of water, maybe it’s just another Kai season? Thing is, it’s no one’s. It is an ensemble season, and I think that’s a healthy thing for ninjago to keep doing. The more we label certain seasons for certain ninja, the more complaining we’ll get about who’s turn it is for screen time that we’ll miss out on telling a good story. Also, If the season is focused on a ninja you don’t like, you are less likely to like the season (see my next analysis for that can of worms). Again, this season tells it’s story really well. Morro directly ties into the ending of last season, and Nya’s getting water powers was foreshadowed the season before. That’s some cool connective tissue to start. The opening episode establishes the three different things the ninja will be looking for, and for once they’re actual tools instead of a series of weapons, blades, masks, whatever. I like that. Jay has some really good humor, Zane has his speech changes, Kai has his irrational fears and protective instincts, Cole has his ghost angst, Lloyd has to deal with his father’s passing, Nya is a new water ninja, Wu has a shop to run and a student to reconnect with, even Ronin has an arc about developing morals and gaining friends. There’s the mystery about how to deal with the ghosts, what the rules are, there’s the leader subplot, the ninja’s money situation, and lore of the different realms, they even worked in Skylor and Borg, there’s a lot of cool stuff going on. This is a tightly woven script that manages to include a lot of new concepts that you get pretty quick. I don’t feel like there’s even that much fat to cut. The opening is a little slow and strange, and the cloud kingdom episode feels a little unnecessary, but I do like the idea of visiting a different realm early in the season so the audience isn’t caught off guard in the climax. Again, the plot all works for me, it’s the other stuff I find myself pretty meh on.

Characters

Ronin

I’m pretty sure Ronin is the only new (non villain) character introduced. I like him a lot. Ninjago needed a true wildcard to shake things up and be unpredictable. I also think he’s pretty nicely woven into the action of the plot. I think his introduction is a bit strange. Like, the ninja already know him, but we’ve never seen him before? Just the way they talk about him sounds like they’re quickly recapping who this guy is for those who missed previous episodes. It’s fine if the ninja already know him but either 1) Introduce or foreshadow him a season earlier or 2) Introduce their dynamic to the audience before it becomes plot relevant. Maybe the ninja are grumbling about him being a nuisance while tea shenanigans are going on or something. Or maybe you have a scene of him stealing the scroll and making snarky remarks about the ninja while he does it. Idk. just something so his sudden plot relevance isn’t out of nowhere. Also, I don’t hate his and Nya’s dynamic, but I know a lot of people love it, and I’m just not totally here for it. Is he supposed to be a father figure for her? Mentor? Frienemy? Just plain friend? (love interest???) it’s not super clear and I could have used some clarification. I also like his use and tie to the next season, so overall, well integrated character.

Nya

I’m adding in Nya here cuz she goes through a major character change, and how she’s handled is one of the things that rubs me the wrong way about the season. A lot of people will probably disagree and/or hate me for this section of the analysis so… here we go! The thing she has to get past to reach her true potential is fear of failure (supposedly) and the solution to that is to just… not care as much? First of all, I know this isn’t supper important, but the fun thing about the ninjago elements is that every elemental master matched up personality wise with their element. Jay is the energetic master of lightning, Kai is the hothead master of fire, Zane is the calm and calculating master of ice, Cole is the strong and dependable master of earth, Lloyd is the literal child master of energy. This especially goes for all the new season 4 masters. So what qualities are often associated with water personalities? Well, serenity, control, flexibility, elegance, patience… calm. You know, like a Zane type character (the element directly adjacent to hers). These are things that Nya isn’t - or at the very least don’t define her. (there’s also something to be said about water and its ties to more feminine qualities, which Nya has been actively shown to reject, but I won’t go into that rant here.) She was designed as the fire master’s sister, and when you try to fit a fire personality into a water shaped character mold… it doesn’t exactly mesh well. It doesn’t make sense. But, like I said, whatever. Maybe that’s the point? Like she has to change her personality to be more in tune with water? Sure. But let’s talk about this fear of failure thing. Because that’s the stated thing that dialogue tells us she needs to overcome. But when has Nya ever been afraid of failure? Fear of failure means avoiding doing something because of fear. Nya is ridiculously persistent, always has been (you know, fire personality). She tries training when no one tells her to, she makes her own alter ego to try and be a hero and save the people who would constantly tell her she wasn’t ready. Wu says she only wants things that come easy, but that’s never been her character before now, she has carried the team with her tech, research, and covert ops that no one forced her to do, all things which are not easy. Fear of failure is usually characterized by what if questions. If Nya is so afraid of failure, why don’t we hear her saying stuff like “but what if I’m not strong enough, what if I can’t save them in time, or worse, what if I lose control of my power and end up hurting people?” Cole shows much more of a fear of failure this season surrounding his insecurity about being a ghost. He wants to sit out from missions because he’s not sure he’ll be able to do it - he’s afraid of failure. But whatever, the writing isn’t clear at expressing her true setbacks, but she does display a real problem that a lot of people have and I think could have been well done if set up correctly. She shows an undying persistence that gets her too close, and makes her increasingly incapable. She lets her frustration hinder her progress (again, fire personality trait), and I think that’s interesting because I don’t think ninjago has done this character arc yet. The supposed solution to this problem is that she just needs to… care less? And yes, I kind of see where they were going with this, we sometimes cloud our natural potential by thinking about it too much, but saying “you need to stop caring” is the absolute wrong way to word it. Caring is not her problem, the problem is her control over the emotions that come from her caring. Caring is a good thing, and teaching kids that if you’re ambivalent about your problems, they’ll go away is not a good message. What she needs to do is take a step back. She needs to take a break, stop to think, and look at the big picture instead of hyper focusing on the roadblock directly in front of her. The usual and much better wording of the moral I think they were going for is “stop overthinking things”. Teaching kids to look at a problem from a different angle and give themselves time to cool down is a great thing. And just think of it, in the climax she could have this ah-ha moment where she steps back and looks at the bigger picture - the whole town, surrounded by the ocean - and gets the idea to sink the preeminent into the water, you could even easily tie that back into the bucket exercise, and that’s what triggers her true potential rather than the current… I’m honestly not sure what. Random flashbacks and the end of the season approaching quickly. Alternatively, you could tie it more directly into samurai x, and make her struggle with letting go of the past and allowing yourself to give up something good in your life to progress to something better. Anyway, I don’t think this was a bad decision long term, she needed to be solidified on the team as a full fledged ninja, I just think this season doesn’t handle the transition that well. Anyway, whatever, I’ll be waiting for your hate comments in the notes.

Romance

Um… there’s none this season? Like there’s a few Wusako moments that are still as weird as they were in season 2, but they’re really not prevalent. There’s also the Jay seeing the future thing which has some weird implications next season (again, some interesting connective tissue between seasons), but that’s about it. Maybe that’s part of why I don’t love this season? Like where’s the pixane? Lol, I’m kidding. But maybe that’s why a lot of people do like it. If you don’t like the canon ships… this is a nice little safe haven for you. Rare for a majority of the series.

Villains

So Morro is a good idea… in theory. I know he’s the fandom’s favorite edgy boy, but idk I think the brand of angsty teen they ended up with was more of an angsty 13 year old than 17 year old. His voice is really grating and I always want to yell at him to just… go get some cough drops. Stop throat screaming, use your diaphragm man! Also, everyone goes on about his last minute redemption, but as far as season 5 goes, he has like half a second of a change of heart. Literally, when Wu comes over and he’s drowning, he’s still being a persistent little idiot like “you never cared about me nooooo!” and it’s only at the last possible second that gives him the crystal, and even that he does it kind of saltily. The preeminent is pretty cool, I like her concept, her design, all that. All the other ghosts are fine I guess. Nothing super memorable out of them, although their aesthetic, especially when there’s a bunch of them swarming around is pretty cool. One last thing was I never understood how Morro “becoming the green ninja” worked and what exactly it was that… did for him? Like he didn’t actually get the power of energy, right? I don’t remember him using it. Did just him defeating Lloyd make him the green ninja? How does that transfer work? And why did he need it to take over the world or realms or whatever? Like I get that it’s supposed to give him more power and what not but idk, it wasn’t super clear. That’s a minor thing though.

Climax

Pretty cool. I like the ATMOSPHERE. Green light is a hard thing to use and justify correctly, but it works really well here, especially with the dark kinda gray blue sky complimenting it. When the preeminent starts walking into the ocean, it’s genuinely terrifying, but you understand exactly how it works and why she’s strong enough to do it. Nya’s true potential is again a little out of left field and could have had some better motivation put behind it. Like what is it Nya learned in that instant? To not be afraid to protect people? She’s… been doing that. Idk. I’ve hit on that enough for now. Overall, there was good variety. I like the green ninja fake out, I like the realm hopping, I even like the little Garmadon visit and Lloyd getting the robe. I feel like we didn’t need a part one and two, you could have had different titles. I mean come on. But hey, now we know, if Pix had only been there, the whole climax would have been wrapped up in like 10 minutes apparently. Pix for the win.

Humor

Really good. Like I’m surprised how much I laughed. Jay wasn’t annoying humor, it was good stuff, there were some good running gags, there’s a solid fourth wall joke about who the lead ninja is at the beginning of the season. Overall, I am pretty impressed. My favorite joke was perhaps the bit where Jay is sarcastically positive, the voice acting is just really solid. Then again, there’s also the whole Borg scene where he roasts half the ninja, that’s solid stuff right there. There’s just some really solid character interaction this season and the humor feels a lot more natural and less forced.

Drama

Okay, we’ve got a lot this season. Y’all know how I feel about Nya’s arc by now. It does not work for me. Ronin’s relationship with her is alright, but kind of comes out of nowhere. Ronin’s solo plot about kinda working for the ghosts works. Cole’s ghost angst works for the most part, although I wish he would have actually skipped a mission and then gone in to help save his friends once they can’t do it without him. That was probably the most solid drama of the season. The other main thing we have this season is Kai’s whole… fear/protective streak. This also doesn’t really work for me. Like, I get that Lloyd and Kai are friends and stuff, like his whole true potential was centered around Lloyd. But like, why does it have to be framed so weirdly? Sometimes in trying to make it seem like Kai is protective of him, it seems like the other ninja just like… don’t care about him? Not all the time, but there are some weird vibes. Also, it doesn’t really go anywhere. No one learns anything about themselves from this subplot, nothing comes of it, there isn’t really a payoff. Also, Kai has yet another irrational fear, this time of water, which really comes right the hell out of nowhere. They try to explain it away like “Oh, Kai feels powerless and so water can get to him” but like… what? That’s the exact situation he was in at the end of season 2 and he seemed perfectly content to literally swim across the ocean (which um… what do you mean the sworn protector of ninjago can’t swim?). Where is this coming from?! Again, it doesn’t really go anywhere, there’s not a point where he has to learn to confront it or he grows because of it. It’s just pointless stuff added cuz the writers like giving Kai vague trails to try and develop him. The cloud kingdom is kinda cool. That last minute twist about them working with Morro is… stupid and unnecessary though. 

Spotlight Episode

I really like the Spinjitzu master tomb episode. Some cool riddles, I like the first two rooms a lot. I do think the third room is a bit strange. Like, the clue was “don’t look ahead” and the solution was to look beneath them, which is the exact same solution as the previous room. Like, you already have magic ice that shows the future, why not play into that? Don’t look ahead could maybe mean don’t look to the future, the opposite of that being the past. Maybe they have to draw on their past adventures to solve it somehow? Learning from the past is a good lesson, right? But overall, I really like it. Some real solid humor this episode. This episode has the sarcastic Jay optimism, Kai totally stalling for time, Zane dealing a pretty sick burn on Cole, just a lot of fun stuff. I like it. It just has great energy and nothing feels like it’s drawn out for too long.

Misc

The aesthetic this season… can be inconsistent, but the main ghost vibe displayed in the opening theme is really solid and I really like it

Speaking of the opening, Ghost wip is great and the opening in on par with last season’s (which is my fav) for sure

Ice age references… okay.

Chima references…. OKAY...

Okay, but like Deepstone can… kill ghosts? Or not? Is it just something ghosts can touch? It’s supposed to be like water in weapon form, right? Like that’s how I understood it when they first introduced it. Wouldn’t the deepstone bars kill Ghoultar then? And then like, Cole’s bike is made of deepstone. He uses it as a weapon. Wouldn’t it kill him? It kills other ghosts when they touch it. How… how does it work?! I need answers!!!

The captain of the steam boat says they’re going as fast as possible, but later Ronin comes in and cranks it up like twice as fast… that always bothered me like, why would he lie about that? Who is this captain and why is he so chill about everyone’s lives?! And then later Wu cranks it up yet again, like the ship had slowed down to it’s previous speed. What the hell is happening with the controls of this ship???

So pissed that the nasty CGI nightmare cloud monster that chases the ninja is named Nimbus. Totally forgot about that. I have an OC with a cat named Nimbus… I promise, there is not going to be a stupid twist bout the cat being the monster thing in Mists of Fate. That would be very stupid.

I was all excited that season 13 gave us minecart chases, but I totally forgot season 5 gave us one first. I really like the return to the caves of despair btw, good reuse of a known location.

How many times this season did we do the: 

Kai: Oh, I don’t like water, I can’t do it uwu  Cole: ...You serious?

Thanks for reading! And if you got this far… I don’t know. I would love to hear your thoughts if you have any! These are just my opinions, so don’t think too much of it if you disagree.

-Kitten

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 19

Chapters: 19/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18]

"It’s skew.”

“Come and straighten it, then.”

“I’m spotting, you’re hanging.”

Gerry growls at him. Jon looks rather pleased about it.

Martin, who doesn’t want Gerry to hit their infuriating lover with a hammer, goes over to where he’s hanging the massive painting and tilts it minutely to the left. “Better?”

“Perfect!” Jon pronounces, clapping his hands.

Through some sort of witchcraft, the artist has hung the painting in such a position that it emulates where a window would be in a traditional room. It opens up the space in such a way that it seems less like a store room, and far more like a creative space that someone would actually enjoy spending time in.

The lightning helps too, warm light filtering from the ceiling and corner lamps, and LCD strips illuminating the bookshelves from inside.

All in all, considering this was a utilitarian storage space just a few weeks ago, it seems like a downright miracle.

The three of them lean back against Jon's desk, free of clutter for the first and only time in its life. The bookshelves are empty, and except for his new painting, so are the walls.

The piano occupies one wall, and Gerry hopes to hear it being played often.

Jon reaches out and takes Gerry's hand, drawing them close together affectionately. "How long have you been planning for us to move in?"

"Well, I wasn't planning, per se. Only considering the possibility." Gerry smirks confidently. "I know we're all a little bizarre, but this is the course of most relationships, and we could only spend so much time sleeping over before paying for three flats became superfluous."

"Besides," Martin continues for him. "There's no harm in planning for something you hope will happen eventually. Especially when your new flatmates will be this wildly good looking."

He gestures to himself dramatically, doing a small turn in place. Gerry and Jon laugh with him happily, until he stumbles back into Gerry's side, where he gets wrapped up under an arm.

"So do you like your new space, Jon?" Gerry cuddles around him, twisting the three of them into an odd sort of snuggle pretzel.

"I absolutely adore it." Jon utters happily, sighing in contentment as they all lean there together.

***

At the end of June, Jon hands over his keys and the three of them officially live together.

There's still a lot of settling to be done, even though they've been moving in together for almost six weeks by that point. The boxes are unpacked, but they still need to make it a comfortable home for all of them, a certainty that comes only with time.

Martin and Jon both love their studies, a matching pair that look and feel completely opposite.

Martin opts for a small bedroom, keeping the bed from his old flat, his painting hung opposite. He finds an antique writing desk at a charity store, and installs it for writing poetry or working on his laptop in the evenings.

He adorns the walls with pictures and posters, and random pieces of poetry and music that he loves.

It's a cozy space that he adores, even though he opts to sleep in the master bedroom almost always. The option makes him feel like he has his own breathing room, even if he rarely needs it.

Jon's is more of a true study, with a large desk taking up the majority of the space. His walls are lined with shelves, and he promptly fills them with books and knickknacks. The odd collection includes first edition classics, next to mass market paperbacks and music books, with non-fiction nature and animal books scattered throughout. These are interwoven with seashells, tiny mechanical statues and several flowers preserved in resin, gifts from Martin throughout their relationship.

On the wall above the piano, he hangs framed photos of his parents, himself with Gerry as a teen, and all three of them together as adults. The photo he once took of Martin, Gerry and Tim hangs right in the centre, all his favorite humans in one frame. He hangs the sketch of him and Martin in the park from when they were all courting, as well as the others he has stolen from Gerry over time.

Gerry embraces the chaos and upheaval as if it's all he ever wanted, and really, it is. A home, with the people he loves, noisy and frenetic, loving and comfortable.

In the middle of July, he quits his job at the bar in the middle of a shift, with very little contemplation or preamble.

He smiles at his lovers radiantly when he comes through the door several hours early to find them watching a movie.

"What happened?" Martin queries, clear concern lining his expressive face.

"I quit." Gerry flops down between them, snuggling down immediately.

"But why?" Presses a sleepy Jon, trying to hide a yawn behind his hand.

Gerry shrugs. "I got the job because I was bored, essentially. I wanted to interact with interesting people and I didn't know anyone in London anymore. But tonight I realized how badly I wanted to be right here, with you two." He smiles at them, trying to explain without conveying too many of his sappy emotions. "l honestly couldn't think of one reason to be working at midnight on a Saturday, instead of at home, or out on a date, or literally anything else we could be doing together. So I quit."

"Oh Gerry." Jon whispers, both of them carefully tuned to his moods, regardless of his attempts at seeming unconcerned.

"I don't feel the need to fill my time and chase inspiration anymore. I just want to be with you. Both of you." He kisses first Martin's hand, then Jon's, grinning at them all the way.

"I love you. I'm happy you're home." Jon whispers to him, sleepy and content.

Martin hums an agreement, squeezing his hand and smiling down at him lovingly.

They watch their movie and then go to bed all together, and Gerry knows he's made the best choice of his life.

***

Gerry finds himself with an odd amount of time on his hands while his partners go to work during the day, like normal people.

He decides to take on several art commissions from clients he's actually interested in working for, which thrills Gertrude. He doesn't think it entirely makes up for his boyfriend hitting Peter Lukas in the middle of a showcase, but it's a start.

He also indulges himself and buys a new tattoo machine.

He's not really interested in taking clients again, but… well, he wants it and so he gets it. If it's only to use on himself or the occasional visitor, then that's fine by him.

"You have everything you need to give tattoos now, right?" Martin asks him one early morning.

Gerry is still mostly asleep, clutching a cup of tea and petting Saturn where he perches on his lap. He blinks at Martin, confused.

"I think so. I mean, I haven't used my machine yet, but there's really only one way to test it out." Gerry tilts his head curiously, sunlight glittering in his hair, dyed back to its original black. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you want to give me one?" Martin grins at him a bit shyly.

Gerry sits up straight, instantly wide awake. "Yes. So much."

Martin laughs warmly. "You have the same look on your face that Luna gets when we take out the catnip toys."

Uncaring about how eager he might look, Gerry shoos Saturn to go over and kneel by Martin. "I would be honored to have your tattoo virginity. Do you want me to draw something?"

"Yes," Martin tells him with a grin, "that's exactly what I want. A Gerry Delano original, right on my skin."

"What do you want it to be?" Gerry's teal eyes are bright and slightly manic, and Martin glories in the sensation of producing a new reaction in his lover.

"It's entirely up to you." He responds, pressing a firm kiss to Gerry's mouth. "I want to see what makes you think of me."

"Oh, I like it." He declares, jumping up and going off to find a sketchbook.

Martin sips his tea and smiles to himself, very pleased indeed.

***

"You're just going to let him give you whatever he wants to?" Jon blanches when Martin tells him.

"Relax Jon, it's Gerry, not some evil mastermind. He'll draw something I like. And if I don't, it's not hard, I just tell him no."

Jon, who rather considers that Gerry is an evil mastermind, does not look convinced. "But…"

"Hush, love." Martin tells him firmly.

Gerry, drawing under the window nearby, takes no notice of them. He has a focused frown on his face as he concentrates on the careful lines appearing on his page.

Martin considers it a rare pleasure to just watch him draw, and tries to guess what might be forming on the page before him.

He completely trusts that Gerry knows him exactly well enough to draw him the perfect tattoo. And then he can have his own piece of Gerry, inked right into his skin.

When he sits back down with Jon and Martin a little later, he has a smudge of charcoal above his eyebrow, and Martin gently rubs it away before Gerry has a chance to start talking. He blushes quite uncharacteristically, and Martin knows it means he's been swirling in the frantic rush of his own creativity.

"So I have a proposal for you." Gerry starts, body humming with excitement. "A tattoo in two parts, if you will."

"Yeah?" Martin encourages him, just as interested.

Gerry collects Martin's hand in both of his own, running a thumb over a spot on his wrist. It's the same place that Jon has his own tattoo, which immediately makes Martin pleased. "A small crescent moon, right here. The placement to match with Jon, the symbol for Luna."

Gerry pushes a scrap of paper forward, an elegant crescent moon filling space.

"For the other…" Gerry turns over the larger page, handing it to Martin.

There's an immeasurable beat of silence as Martin contemplates the design before him. A set of waxing and waning moons, connected by a series of dots, lines and more dots making a background of geometric shapes.

He… feels it. He understands now, what Jon had meant, when he described seeing the inspiration for his own tattoo for the first time. It's a representation of some inner part of himself, normally hidden from the world, but carefully unearthed for his lovers, over the course of many months and endless intimacy.

"Martin?" Gerry entreats, leaning minutely closer to him.

"I love it." He whispers, pulling the goth over to kiss him fiercely. They tangle together pleasantly, for several moments, everything else falling away as they get absorbed in each other.

"Not that anyone asked me, but I like it as well." Jon informs them pertly.

"Your opinion is as important to us as ever, baby." Gerry replies, grinning proudly. He turns back to Martin. "Where do you want it?"

Martin considers for a moment, before getting up and pulling off his shirt and jumper, leaving himself bare from the waist up. He still feels a small pang of shyness to be naked in any way, but confidence born of time and perspective drown most of it away now.

He and Gerry stand facing each other. Martin lifts the other man's hand, placing it on his sternum, over his softly pounding heart.

"Right here?" Gerry asks, voice soft.

"Right here." Martin affirms.

***

In the end, Gerry takes them over to Melanie's tattoo shop to work on Martin. He lists a number of reasons, but really, he finds a certain amount of comfort working under the stark lights and amid the buzzing of other machines.

They do the small tattoo first, and Martin sits for it exceptionally well.

Before Gerry starts the sternum piece, an endeavor of several hours, Georgie arrives and drags Jon off to drink coffee and catch up in a nearby coffee shop. Melanie goes into the next room to take another client, and Gerry and Martin are left alone together.

"Ready, love?" Gerry asks as he finishes placing the stencil, bisecting his chest.

"I'm nervous," Martin confesses softly.

Gerry doesn't move his gloved hands, not wanting to contaminate them, but he does press their foreheads together gently, taking a moment to sooth Martin with his companionship.

"Do you want to take a break? You can just sit with the stencil for a while." Gerry leans forward and places a swift kiss on Martin's nose, before retreating from his personal space.

"No, I'm ready." He smiles, biting his lip a little. "I just- I feel like this is a big moment, you know?"

"It is. You're embracing who you really are." Gerry runs a finger along one of Martin's chest scars, considering. "You're choosing to love yourself instead of just tolerating him."

"How can you always tell?" Martin whispers the words, voice heavy with emotion. "How can you put things into words like that, so simply."

"I know you. You think I don't see when you avoid looking in the mirror. You hope I don't notice that you used to hate being naked, even with Jon and I." Gerry pauses, tripping Martin's head up with the tip of a finger, minimizing contact still. "But I see you, Martin. I love you just the way you are. And I want you to love yourself just the same. I'll tell you everyday, show you constantly, if I need to."

Martin is crying for real now, tears streaming down his face. Gerry abandons his sterility, pulling Martin into his arms. He rocks his lover gently, and they are just together for a moment, no need to rush, no distractions. Just them, and the comfort they find in each other.

"I love you too." Martin tells him simply, when they pull apart.

"Good," Gerry grins, kissing him thoroughly, the taste of salty tears on his lips. He stands, pulling off his ruined gloves and going to wash his hands again.

Martin takes a sip of the tea Jon made him before he left, smiling because Jon always makes it with a little more sugar than he allows himself. "I'm ready."

When Jon returns, they're just finished up, the last few moments of buzzing filling the air. He watches them together, artist and canvas, and loves them fiercely.

"How was coffee with Georgie?" Martin queries, taking his offered hand.

Jon relays the details as Gerry finishes, and then cleans up.

Jon and Gerry stand on either side of Martin in the mirror as he looks at it for the first time. Martin nods wildly, when Jon asks if he likes it, and they hug him from either side as he sheds a few more tears.

Jon had once thought that tattoos seemed very boring in comparison to Gerry's normal work, but seeing the design come alive on Martin's skin, full of feeling and depth, he can't help but think of it as the best thing his lover has ever done. Gerry can't help but agree.

"Let's go to the park!" Martin exclaims as they leave, after saying their goodbyes to Georgie and Melanie.

"The park?" Jon asks, laughing. "It's so windy."

"I don't care, I want to feed the ducks and eat ice cream with my boyfriends." He insists, giddy with happiness and adrenaline.

"Okay, but you're picking the flavours this time." Gerry says, taking one of Martin's hands. Jon takes the other.

"Deal."

***

Jon and Gerry find themselves watching Martin once again feed ducks as they sit beneath a tree, more than a year after the very first time.

"Why don't we come to the park more often?" Jon asks from where he reclines between Gerry's long legs.

His arms snake around his waist, and Jon feels very content and comfortable, despite the cutting wind.

"Because," Gerry kisses under an ear softly, "we live in England and it rains more than 100 days a year."

"He looks so happy here." They watch as Martin stoops to offer a piece of bread to a curious toddler. The child is inordinately pleased, and her mother watches on gratefully from nearby as they feed the rowdy birds together.

"Are you happy?" Gerry asks him, unexpectedly serious. "With your life, with me?"

"Gerry! Of course I'm happy with you." Jon sits up, turning in the tangle of Gerry's limbs to face him.

"I'm only checking on you." He runs a gentle finger down Jon's face, then cups his cheek affectionately. "I know how much stress work puts you under and I hate that for you."

Jon looks away from his intent gaze, fiddling with his fingers nervously. "Well, yeah. My job sucks. The worst part is, I love being a librarian! Being surrounded by books, helping people choose something to read or guiding them with their research. But that's so little of my job now, and Elias just finds new and interesting ways to put pressure on me. But I'm not qualified and I know I probably won't get another job in a library, especially not without a glowing recommendation from Elias-"

"And we both know that's never going to happen." Gerry finishes for him.

Jon nods and they just sit together a moment. Gerry lifts one of his hands and kisses each of his fingers and then his palm, until Jon blushes and smiles at him.

"I know you think it's annoying, so you keep your feelings about work inside, a lot of the time. I don't want you to do that anymore, okay? If you have a terrible job, then we all carry that."

"But-"

"Nope, no buts. We are all partners. That means more then dinner dates and living together and sex."

"And punching rich fuckers who hurt our Martin."

Gerry laughs, still reveling in Jon's unexpected protectiveness- and the violent manifestation of it. "Yes, that too. There will be other jobs, for all of us, probably. But our relationship, the three of us. We're forever."

"Like those tattoos that you gave Martin today?" Jon asks, pert glint in his eye.

"Yes, much like that." He smirks brazenly back. "And the one I gave you, and the ones I've given myself, over the years."

Gerry continues, squeezing Jon's hand, "I know that the idea of not being able to provide for yourself scares you, but we're in this together now. You don't have to cling to a job that you hate in case you're left without one at all."

"I-" Jon looks away, uncomfortable to be so well understood. Gerry stits with him, energy easy between them, just holding his hand, loving and supportive.

"I have been considering, that is, maybe becoming a school teacher." The confession is halting, and he offers it with a small shy smile.

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Gerry responds, gentle encouragement colouring his voice.

"I would probably have to go back to school for a year. Get a post-grad in Education. I wouldn't be working for most of that time, and my savings will only go so far, even without having to pay rent." Jon whispers, as if the words will be any less offensive to him if they are quiet.

"You know I can float you, especially for just a year. And Martin too."

"It just doesn't seem fair to burden you with that."

"It's not a burden, it's a part of life. You think you're so old, that you should be settled, but you're barely 30, Jon. You still have time to make new life choices occasionally, and the point of being in a relationship is that you let us support you every now and then." Gerry is earnest and focused, and Jon can't help but believe him, long fingers cupping his face and teal eyes holding his gaze.

Martin arrives then, plonking down next to Jon and giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"What are we talking about then? Such serious faces."

Gerry nudges Jon, who haltingly offers Martin the same idea he told Gerry.

“Oh, I think that’s a great idea.” He says, eyes alight. “Like, high schoolers, right?”

“Yes, of course. Anyone under 10 is an alien and I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

They laugh at him, their contentment surrounding him warmly.

"You don't have to quit right away." Martin offers. "There are plenty of part time degree programs, and you have to apply first. It all takes time."

"You seem pretty clued up about it." Jon observes, narrowing his eyes at Martin suspiciously.

"Well, if you must know. I've been thinking about getting a business degree."

"Oh my God! Martin, how is this the first we're hearing about this?" Gerry demands, sitting up straight.

"I didn't want it to be a thing until I was sure, and the move was over." He confesses, "It's gonna take a lot of my free time and I wanted to discuss that with you both carefully."

"I'm gonna be living with two thirty year old students." Gerry mutters, shocked. He leans back against the tree again, running his fingers through his long hair.

"I haven't agreed yet-" Jon starts.

Martin speaks up at the same time. "You could get a degree too. We could all be students together."

"No, but thanks anyway." Gerry shudders, grimacing. He perks right back up. "I'll be your sexy study partner though."

"Gerard!" Jon cries, scandalised.

Gerry shakes his head. "As if I've never felt you up while you were trying to study for a test."

"Exactly!" Even Jon struggles to keep up his prim expression at that, and they tumble into pleasant laughter together.

"So," Martin hazards, "are we gonna do this?"

"Well, if you're going to. I suppose we should both get it done at the same time." Jon responds, still hesitant but clearly warming to the idea. "You're really okay with this, Gerry?"

Gerry beams at them both, a soft, special look in his eyes. "I'm more than okay with anything you want to do with your lives. In case you haven't noticed, I'm really very fond of you both."

Jon leans forward in the circle of Gerry's legs, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss, before turning back to lay against his chest.

Martin shifts around to lean into his side, and Gerry tucks one arm around him, the other around Jon. Jon reaches out to take one of Martin's hands, and the three of them sit wrapped up together.

As ever, their own mutual magnetism draws them forever closer and closer, binding them to one another in an inexplicable tangle of love and affection.

"Do you think it will always be like this, between us?" Martin whispers gently, as the sun begins to set and the landscape sets ablaze before them.

"Probably not," Jon responds, voice warm and content. "Life will keep shifting like a tide, and we'll move with it, but the great thing about us is- we're moored together. Nothing can keep us apart, because what we have is stronger than whatever shifts and eddies might try to take us away."

"The gravity between us is fiercer than any storm, any disaster that might try to shake us." Gerry picks up Jon's train of thought, pulling them both minutely closer.

"Good," Martin says simply, fiercely in love and the happiest he's ever felt.

They watch the sun as it drops below the horizon, sometimes quiet and occasionally sharing some errant thought or another.

They eat ice cream on the way home, holding hands and laughing.

It's warm, and soft and peaceful.

And they're all, finally, home.

[lveclouds]

embarrassment and boba (ksj x reader)

a/n: this is the fourth and last installment for the hyung line part of the bubble tea series!! thank you guys so much for loving this series as much as i do, and thank you all for your continuous support and love, it really makes my heart warm:(( also bear with me for the slow updates, online school is kicking my ass, so i apologize for drabbles being posted later than usual. and once, again, ily all so so so so so so so so much💕💕 and the header for this kinda sucks but oh well 

genre: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, a bit cheesy (oops) 

rating: g (for all audiences) 

word count: 100+

(in which jin loudly declares his love for you in the middle of a boba tea shop)

“i love you!!!!”  jin shouted, his voice practically bouncing off the walls, and, as if immediately, several heads turned in your direction, confused expressions on their faces. you felt your face flush at the sudden attention, and you lightly swatted at jin’s arm. “jin!” you scolded. “what?” he asked, tone full of innocence and eyes bright with mischief. “i know that you love me, but there was no need to shout that out! now people are staring at us.” jin scoffed. “so? let them stare. they can admire my handsome face while they’re at it.” that earned him a playful shove on the shoulder. he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. you noticed that the tips of his ears had gotten red, and you couldn’t help but smile. “awww is someone embarrassed?” you teased. “m-maybe. i get flustered when all the attention is on me.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re unbelievable.” “you mean unbelibubble, right?” an exasperated groan escaped your throat at your boyfriend’s terrible pun. “jin, babe, i love you, but never say that again, or i’m breaking up with you.” “oh why???? why can’t i make jokes? they bring me joy.” he whined. you sighed. “yes, i know, but babe, your jokes are terrible.” 

jin pouted. “ok ok fine. i won’t make them around you, i’ll only make them for army. they appreciate all my jokes.” “yes, i’m sure they do.” you took a long sip of your strawberry boba, taking the time to admire your boyfriend. 

jin looked breathtakingly stunning, despite the busy day he’d had, which included a three hour long photoshoot for the upcoming album. his raven hair was messy and strands fell across his forehead, and you resisted the urge to reach out and brush them away. his skin was practically glowing, free of the makeup the stylists had put on him just hours ago. he had features that could rival that of adonis himself, perfect eyebrows and nose, sharp jawline, and lips that were pink and plush and like heaven to kiss. his eyes were a gorgeous shade of brown, and you could never get tired of looking into them. 

“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you felt your face flush scarlet. “s-shut up. i wasn’t staring, i was admiring.” jin chuckled. “it’s ok. you can stare all you want.” “jin, i swear to the heavens above-” “ok, ok, i’ll stop.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “i just think it’s unfair that you can look so gorgeous after a day of photoshoots.” 

jin shrugged his broad shoulders nonchalantly. “you just get used to the hectic schedule, i guess. and i’m flattered that you think that i’m stunning.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. you smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “you know you’re handsome.” “that i do, but i just needed confirmation.” 

you blushed when he leaned over the table and pressed a soft kiss on your cheek. “i love you, angel.” “l-love you too.” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze as he clasped your hand in his, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your knuckles gently. though jin could be a bit loud and chaotic, those were some of the many reasons why you loved him.  jin loved you with his entire heart, and he never let you forget that. you had the biggest dork for a boyfriend, but you wouldn’t change a thing about him. 

a/n: im so so so so sorry that this took so freaking long to post:(((( school has been so stressful recently, so i apologize for the extremely late upload:((( the maknae line drabbles will be next hehe and as for my untamed au, i’m still continuing it, don’t worry i just need to develop some sort of plot for the next few chapters sldkfjlskdjf im the worst writer skldfjkldsjfkldsjf 

tagging: @suhdays​  @softguks​ @sketchguk​ @jins-kiss​ @yourdelights​ @funkyrosejin​ @jinies​ @jinsmelody​ @seokoloqy​ @kimseokjinss​ @guktual​ @sweetheartjeongguk​ @jungkooksmoon​ @moonbeamjk​ @jksmoongf​ @joonglows​ @epiphanyjin​ @jinwrld​ @mapofugh​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @honeylovecult​ @artjjk​ @btsrespect​ @rcsescentkiss​ @ksj1​ @ksjmoon​ @ksjluvs​ @j1ns​ @yoonsgiggle

[ahh-fxck]

Modern Gay Bar AU: Warrior’s Blues Chapter 2

Modern Gay Bar AU: Warrior’s Blues Chapter 2

Hey guys, it’s here! I DID IT! I did the thing! Chapter 2 is complete for your reading pleasure. Hope you like it :)

Author’s Note: This fic deals with some pretty heavy themes, including but not limited to alcohol, homophobia, military trauma, and PTSD. You have been warned.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903460

A big thanks to @stressedspidergirlsfandomblog ​, the best beta in the world.

Tag list: @astouract​ @smolpoe​ @yes-im-the-violin-girl​ @ladyknight-keladry​

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for future installments!

Chapter 2: Do I Look Like I Have A Permit?

“Selling drinks to minors?” He asks quietly, as Jaskier hangs up the phone with a heartfelt curse and then picks it up to dial again.

The younger man nods, lip curled in a snarl, punching the buttons on the base of the phone as if he could slake his rage on them. “Fucking ass cocking cheerios, yes, and of all the nights-” There is the sound of a voicemail beeping coming out of the handset, and Jaskier snaps, “Julia, if there’s any God in heaven right now you will pick up this damn phone. I need a bartender yesterday. Call me if you get this tonight.” He slams the handset back down onto the base and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, slumping down to sit on the desk.

Geralt shifts awkwardly again, eyes playing over Jaskier’s graceful body as he hunches in thought. His eyes drag over his sequined shoulders, linger on the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. The skin on his chest pulls hotly and prickles as he studies them, searching for words. “Uh…” he manages, throat tight, then grimaces. “No one else to call?” His insides feel like they are fizzing, the sensation making it hard to think clearly.

“Mmph,” Jaskier mumbles, flapping his hand at the cards in irritation. “No. No, my staff isn’t very large, and I’ve never… never had to call back up on Pride.” A quick grin, more a snarl, flitted across his usually soft face. “Tips are too good. God’s cock, Lars is a fucking idiot. I swear if I see him again I’ll-”

“Do you need help?” The words tumble out of Geralt’s mouth before he can think them all the way through.

Chapter 2: Do I Look Like I Have a Permit?

He awakens an unknown amount of time later to a rhythmic buzzing that shakes the bed frame subtly. As he lifts his head, the sound resolves into a thumping bass beat that reverberates through the whole building. He sits up, swinging his legs off of the bed, and scrubs his face tiredly. His stubble scrapes against his palms, his bandages, his injured hand beginning to distantly throb as he awakens. His head is still swimming faintly, and the sensation of his aching hand doesn’t feel quite real. The humid air is cooler now, taking on a clammy quality in the old brick room, and it smells faintly of the night.

He sits for a long moment with his face in his hands, trying to pull himself together. The sleep has helped, but the clarity it brought carried with it unmistakeable despair, as well. Staring numbly at his boots, he feels a wave of shame creep up his body as he remembers again what he’s lost. He eventually fumbles them clumsily on, desperate for something to do with his hands, some way to feel less vulnerable and lost. The process is hampered by his injured hand, but he manages it eventually. He barely has time to steal another guilty look at the phone before he hears the bang of the back room door slamming, followed by raised voices.

“...Kids, Lars! I swear to fucking Jesus Christ on rollerskates, you absolute asshole, if I get shut down because of you I will find you. You always check ID, especially on 18 and up nights! ALWAYS,” There was a mutter, and the louder voice cut it off, “I Do Not Care if it was dark, you absolute fucking dumpster fire of a human being! This is literally what I pay you for. NO! That is what I paid you for. Get out! Out, out, out! You’re fucking fired, and if I catch you anywhere near any of those fucking boys, I will personally see you to the fucking hospital!” The last word is roared, loud enough that Geralt startles on the bed. The springs creak as his body jars, and as he is beginning to stand, the door to the office bangs open. Jaskier, alight with fury, barges into the office and seizes a rolodex on the desk, flipping through it with short, sharp motions. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fucking bag of cocks, FUCK!” he swears. Abruptly he stops, stormy blue eyes coming up and fixing on Geralt standing awkwardly near the bed. “Ah, fuck me. I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says, pulling a face. “I ah, just had to fire my bartender in the middle of the rush.” His gaze drops back to the rolodex, still flicking furiously. “Fuck me, I don’t think any of these assholes are even going to be near their phone at this time of night. Not on fucking Pride…” His voice shakes with stress as he pulls out a few cards, tossing them onto the desk. Geralt watches silently as he begins to dial, shifting from foot to foot.

“Selling drinks to minors?” He asks quietly, as Jaskier hangs up the phone with a heartfelt curse and then picks it up to dial again. 

The younger man nods, lip curled in a snarl, punching the buttons on the base of the phone as if he could slake his rage on them. “Fucking ass cocking cheerios, yes, and of all the nights-” There is the sound of a voicemail beeping coming out of the handset, and Jaskier snaps, “Julia, if there’s any God in heaven right now you will pick up this damn phone. I need a bartender yesterday. Call me if you get this tonight.” He slams the handset back down onto the base and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, slumping down to sit on the desk. 

Geralt shifts awkwardly again, eyes playing over Jaskier’s graceful body as he hunches in thought. His eyes drag over his sequined shoulders, linger on the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. The skin on his chest pulls hotly and prickles as he studies them, searching for words. “Uh…” he manages, throat tight, then grimaces. “No one else to call?” His insides feel like they are fizzing, the sensation making it hard to think clearly.

“Mmph,” Jaskier mumbles, flapping his hand at the cards in irritation. “No. No, my staff isn’t very large, and I’ve never… never had to call back up on Pride.” A quick grin, more a snarl, flitted across his usually soft face. “Tips are too good. God’s cock, Lars is a fucking idiot. I swear if I see him again I’ll-”

“Do you need help?” The words tumble out of Geralt’s mouth before he can think them all the way through. 

Jaskier groans out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh, darling, do I ever. But what could you possibly do? Bounce? Bartend? Have you even been behind a bar before?” He drops his head into his hands, soft chestnut hair falling over his face as he rubs his eyes. “Fuck me,” he adds as an afterthought, muffled between his hands. 

“...I think you underestimate the amount of time servicemen spend in bars,” Geralt finally says, a lopsided smile creeping across his face. “I can make most drinks in my sleep.” 

Jaskier’s head comes up, and he eyes Geralt suspiciously. “Drinking is not nearly the same thing as mixing, dear heart,” he says doubtfully, but Geralt can tell from the way he is hesitating that he is at least listening. 

Sighing, he steps away from the bed and goes to lean against the wall in front of Jaskier, crossing his arms across his chest in a confident gesture. Here, at least, he is on solid ground. He may have lost everything, but he knows drinks. “Old Fashioned. One teaspoon simple syrup, two dashes Angostura Bitters, orange peel, two ounces of rye or bourbon, one maraschino cherry.” 

Jaskier draws back, tilting his head to the side as he listens with a little furrow between his brows.

Warming to the topic, he feels more sure of himself as he begins to list ingredients without a second thought.  “Dark and Stormy. Two ounces of dark rum, five ounces ginger beer, garnish with a lime. Long Island Iced tea. Half ounce gin, half ounce vodka, half ounce rum, half ounce tequila, half ounce triple sec, two tablespoons fresh lemon juice, spoonful of sugar, ice cubes, cola, garnish with a lemon wedge.” Geralt begins, slowly, to grin. It feels good to surprise Jaskier, to show him that he’s competent. “I can keep going.” 

“How…?” Jaskier finally asks, mystified. 

Geralt’s grin widens, and he finds his eyes traveling down Jaskier’s half-naked body, then dragging slowly back up again. As their eyes meet, he drawls, “Always had a good eye for proportions.” 

Jaskier sits back a little further, small spots of color forming on his cheeks, but then narrows his eyes at Geralt. “What about a Cuban Rose?” he asks, suspicious but also intrigued. 

Geralt replies promptly, “One and a half ounces white rum, three-quarters ounce orange juice, and a dash of grenadine. I can do more.” 

“Dark N’ Fluffy,” Jaskier presses. He is still eyeing him doubtfully, but his eyebrows shoot up as Geralt replies. 

“Two ounces marshmallow vodka, two ounces chocolate liqueur, one ounce cream, garnish with mini marshmallows and cocoa powder.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Tastes like an easter egg kicked you in the teeth, but to each their own.” He can feel his body beginning to relax as he speaks about the drinks, feeling on firmer footing at last.

Jaskier sucks air between his teeth thoughtfully, then says, “Mai Tai.” 

“Hmm… That’s a trick question. Do you want the Trader Vic’s version, or the crappy one?” Geralt fires back. 

Laughing, Jaskier raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Fine. Got a server’s permit?” 

“Do I look like I have a permit?” Geralt retorts, drily. 

 Jaskier tosses his head back and barks out another laugh, then shakes his head. “No. No, I suppose I can’t have everything.” He hovers on the edge of his desk, hesitating, then throws up his hands. “You know what? I can’t think of a better way out of this. You’re hired for the night.” Pushing upright, he bustles out of the office and into the dimly lit storage room beyond. “Come with me, let’s get you started.” He flings his arms out in a broad gesture, declaring merrily, “If I’m going to go out of business for breaking the law, I want it to be with drinks all around.” 

“Hmm,” Geralt drawls, finding himself oddly charmed by the showy way Jaskier moves. Pushing off the office wall, he follows him into the storage room beyond. 

Jaskier gestures around, pointing at necessary supplies. “Beer kegs, cups, napkins. The bar back knows where everything is, but don’t let him touch the cocktail shaker, the man is a menace. Mm, let’s see, straws… Yes. Alright, let’s go, darling, out front. It’s going to be loud, are you ready?” He pauses, blocking the doorway, turning an appraising eye on the big man behind him. 

Drawing up short, Geralt also pauses as he reflects on the question. Normally, he would have scoffed and barged right past Jaskier out into the club, but he was still frazzled enough from earlier that the question merits a moment of consideration. Finally, he nods. Fierce blue eyes rake across him, and this time he meets the gaze steadily, unflinching. That seems to satisfy the younger man, and he gives a quick nod. 

“Well, then, let’s be off!” he cries, pushing through the door and into the noisy, crowded club.

 A wall of sound, scent, and colorful light hits Geralt like a truck as he steps out behind Jaskier onto the dance floor. Booming bass in a disco style beat thrums through the bodies as they dance, and a woman’s voice threads tinnily out from the speakers. “Look around, everywhere you turn is heartache, it's everywhere that you go,” she sings, Jaskier weaving along the wall towards the bar. “You try everything you can to escape, the pain of life that you know. When all else fails and you long to be, something better than you are today, I know a place where you can get away. It's called a dance floor…”

Geralt sets his shoulders and puts his head down, following quickly after Jaskier, trying not to look too closely at the people he is passing. The scent of sweat and cologne and sex is thick on the air, making him dizzy. It is with palpable relief that he ducks behind the bar, glad to put a solid piece of furniture between himself and the beautiful, gyrating people on the dance floor. 

Over closer to the bar it is much quieter, even with the growing crowd queuing for drinks. The bar itself is surrounded by small tables, places where little knots of people gather to sit and drink together off of the main floor. He feels a little lost as he watches two men lean together, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths. Heat races across his shoulder blades and pulls at his groin, mingling with a sharp twist of fear. He is relieved when Jaskier begins to speak, half shouting over the music. 

“Okay, darling, here’s how it’s going to work. I will show you where everything is, you show me your chops, and you get to keep the tips. Make sure to split them with the kitchen and bar staff, or they will hate you for life, I warn you now!” He begins bustling around behind the bar, identifying taps, pointing out hidden locations of necessaries like maraschino cherries and clean towels, then steps back. “Okay, I think that’s everything. Questions?” Geralt looks around the bar carefully, memorizing the locations of everything. Someone calls a complaint out to Jaskier, who holds up his hands apologetically. “We’ll be right with you, gorgeous! One moment!” His gaze returns to rest on Geralt, who is cracking the knuckles of his uninjured hand thoughtfully against his bicep. 

Finally, Geralt shakes his head “I think I’m all set. Who’s the bar back?” 

Jaskier grins, turning to shout back over his shoulder. “Yarpen? Where the fuck are you? It’s slammed out here!” 

Around the corner of the kitchen door, a short, wiry man with a bald head and a full ginger beard appears almost immediately. “Here, just replacing the orange sli- hello,” he breaks off, taking in the towering figure of Geralt standing behind Jaskier. “Why, aren’t you fine!” The man’s green eyes twinkle playfully, his teeth flashing in a crooked grin. He is dressed in jeans, a leather harness adorning his spare, muscular torso, and a nipple ring winks up at Geralt in the dim light of the bar. 

Rolling his eyes, Jaskier steps out from between the two of them. “Yarpen, this is Geralt, our new bartender for the night. Play nice, he’s new in town. Geralt, this is Yarpen, my bar back. Don’t let him get to you, he’s an idiot.” And with that, Jaskier smacks Yarpen’s muscular shoulder lightly. “If he needs to know where anything is, show him. Run the register. Keep an eye out in case he misses anything.” Turning to Geralt, he taps the man’s broad chest, “And check. Every. ID.” 

Geralt grins easily down at Jaskier, studying his cerulean eyes, taking in his soft handsome face as it sets in a ferocious expression. His golden gaze lingers for a second on his thinned lips before flicking back up, eyes locking with Jaskier’s. “Got it. Check IDs, don’t fuck it up.” His body hums with the nearness of the other man, blood still fizzing like champagne. He feels better now, confident, almost forgetting to be afraid and heartsore as his eyes travel across the face in front of him.

Jaskier’s tongue flicks across his lips briefly as he considers Geralt, then seems to shake himself, nodding. “Exactly. Don’t fuck it up. I’ll be at the door if you need me.” He whirls, making apologetic noises to the deepening crowd at the bar. “Sorry darlings, had a minor emergency. Meet Geralt, your new bartender!” And with that, Jaskier flits out from behind the bar and races back to the front door of the club, relieving a man in a cook’s apron. The broad-shouldered man has wild red hair and an ominous frown, but as he approaches, Geralt sees that most of the lines on his face are from laughter. He moves aside, noting with surprise that the cook is even bigger than he is as he slides around him and passes into the kitchen. Then he turns to the crowd. “Right. Who’s first?”

#modern au#geraskier modern au#geraskier pride week 2020#gay bar#gay bar au#modern gay bar au#geralt#jaskier#geralt x jaskier#jaskier x geralt#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt of rivia#julian alfred pankratz#pride#witcher#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher fanfic

[lamiralami]

TMA Retro 4: Page Turner

I was touched to see some tag commentary on yesterday’s post! Honestly, it gave me an emotion - I am traditionally very anxious about engaging online, it speaks to my immense love of TMA that it brought me to Make A Post At Last. It’s very affirming and reassuring to get some response to my lunatic treatises. Y’all are all right. 💜

Anyway, grab some lighter fluid and a sturdy wastepaper basket, time to torch your haunted novel in MAG 4: Page Turner

It’s ironic that this statement is about the Vast when it is one dense motherfucker. so many dangling plot threads are introduced here, each ready to hook you and start reeling. we’ve been into the meta plot since episode one but this episode is the first time the audience is made aware of such.

seriously: Jurgen Leitner and his library, Gerard Keay and Mary Keay, Michael Crew. the figures introduced in this one thirty-minute installment loom large over the rest of the entire run

you could, your first time through, even file this away as a one-off scary story if not for the fact that Jon knows what’s going on (enjoy it while it lasts, my son). He’s heard of Jurgen Leitner. He alludes to an incident with his library in 1994. Deeper than that, he immediately takes the statement at face value and treats the claims within it as authentic, which is a complete 180° on the first three episodes

and this is such a smart story choice? Jon shapes our perspective into this universe and up until now he’s been utterly dismissive of the validity of the stories he’s telling. To go from practically rolling his eyes to scheduling a meeting with his boss about tracking down more haunted books - that tells us that Jon takes this seriously as a threat. And that makes us take it seriously too, makes us take note that strange books are dangerous things in this world. Any offhand mention of books in future statements will be enough to make us sweat

And! It starts winding the narrative tension on a character level. Why and what does Jon know about Jurgen Leitner and his library? Why does he say his name with such venom? And if he’s so sure about the supernatural nature of these books, why is he so loath to believe the other statements?

(and then it takes 80 + episodes to fully answer these initial questions. Jonny enjoys a slow roasted torment)

love that the statement giver presents, as proof of his iron-clad sanity, the fact that he works as a theatre technician. speaking as someone with an unfinished theatre degree: theatre people are feral my good buddy, try again. I mean, we refuse to say the name of one of the most famous plays in the English language because we think a ghost will trip us for the indiscretion. this is not the trump card you think it is.

a quick sidebar for the Red String Brigade: The Trojan Women is an ancient Greek tragedy that involves a baby being thrown off a city wall. The Seagull’s first published English translation was done by Marian Fell, and also a seagull is a bird and birds can fly. Much Ado About Nothing is very good and you should all watch the version from 2011 with David Tennant and Catherine Tate.

it’s interesting that these early episodes seem to take a cue from urban legends in some respects. Nathan Watts gets extremely drunk at a party and then is almost skinned by a monster while having a smoke. Joshua Gillespie is approached while engaging in a whirlwind of debauchery and has to take care of a cursed coffin after accepting money for what he thinks is a drug trafficking gig. Amy Patel regularly spies on her neighbour for her own entertainment and then has to watch him be replaced by a malevolent entity only she can perceive. and now Dominic Swain pushes past his guilty conscience to score a valuable book off an unknowing charity shop and...gets a bit dizzy and haunted by a phantom stink for a few days then gets ‎£5,000, well anyway, the point is he got spooked! spooked after doing something kind of iffy! that is pure urban legend procedure; modern day fairy tales imparting dire  consequences onto societal transgressions. in a horror story this structure offers a false sense of safety - if you’re a good person, the monster won’t come for you. I can’t recall which upcoming statement yanks the rug out from under us with the first completely random victim.

cannot comprehend how this guy didn’t start plugging the book into google translate the second he got home. that probably saved him from being taken by the book but I am still judging him for not even trying it. yeah you’d be sucked into some sort of sky hell but at least you’d know what’s in the book!! could never be me

(yes I am aware in this universe I would have been eaten years ago. I’ve made my peace with that)

grbookworm1818 slays me. I don’t know which is better, the idea of Gertude carefully curating the most sixty-five-year-old-on-goodreads username she could as a cover for her cursed purchase history, or her actual sixty-five-year-old brain just expressing itself naturally because Gertrude is a very busy woman who doesn’t have time to immerse herself in the ins and outs of internet culture, she just wants to buy the demonic tomes she’s selected for destruction and get on with her day thanks.

did Gertrude know what a meme was? which Archivist could convincingly pose as a millennial best, Gertrude Robinson or Jonathan Sims?

The Key of Solomon and its former keeper, Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers, are both real historical figures. the book is basically Renaissance-era magical au fanfic of the Bible, and the man was a 19th century British occultist (and likely drinking buddy of Jonah Magnus) who founded a Very Serious Secret Society. this is a picture of him whiiiiiich rather dispels any sense of menace he’s meant to invoke. what kind of cosplaying nonsense

Mary Keay is such a striking figure. “She was very old and painfully thin, but her head was completely clean shaven, and every square inch of skin I could see was tattooed over with closely-written words in a script I didn’t recognise.” a Look, a vision!

I’m guessing that Our Gerard was blasting heavy metal at 2 am to try to drown out his undead mother while waiting for her manifestation to dissipate. I like to imagine him frequenting Reddit advice posts about dealing with toxic family members, poor lad

oh my gosh Mary refers to Gerard as “her Gerard” is that where Jon got “our Gerard” from?? I feel betrayed??

whatever, I’m reclaiming it. Our Gerard is meant with affection now babey! 

the eye portrait is a bit puzzling. the inscription - ‘“Grant us the sight that we may not know. Grant us the scent that we may not catch. Grant us the sound that we may not call.”’ - could almost be read as an invocation against the Eye? But in general Gerry is fairly Eye-aligned, so...shrug emoji

(honestly my main takeaway from the eye portrait is that it’s finely detailed and near photorealistic so we can add “tortured artist” to our list of Gerard Keay traits and is it any wonder that he’s so Fandom Beloved?)

Mary is Not Good at negotiating sales. her main technique involves terrible tea, bringing up repressed childhood trauma, and getting her magic book to drop animal bones onto customer’s shoes. I’m guessing Pinhole Books was in bad shape even before the police investigation and murder charges.

hahaha, the Vast pushes Dominic down the stairs. classic. you gotta grab what opportunities are available

so did Gerard have to follow Dominic back to his flat and wait awkwardly on the doorstep at like 3 in the morning, hoping none of his neighbours would notice and call the cops

the revelation that Mary’s been dead the whole time! this episode may be more intent on world building and plot set-up but damn if it isn’t still a good little ghost story.

kind of rude of Gerry to just burn a book in this guy’s flat without asking and then steal his wastepaper basket.

Jon may not call the statement giver a liar for once, but never fear, he’s still our petty bastard man. accuses Gertrude of filing statements without reading them, has Sasha double-check Martin’s research, grumps about his general misfortune . he’s stressed from the Archives’ disorder and having flashbacks to a certain picture book but by Jove, that won’t stop him making snide comments on what’s supposed to be an official audio transcription!

[dracimexidae]

@valentinaonthemoon tagged me to say 6 random things about myself - thank you, dear, and also grazie, cara!! <333

Let’s start with a thing I actually succeded in doing this year: I finally managed to lose a bit of weight! Last year in November I had enough and started to gradually work out and eat a bit better and I lost almost 19 kg! It was kind of a nightmare, considering my overall lazy and greedy ass and the fact that I haven’t been slim and in shape since I was a little kid, it’s a result I’m rather proud of! I’m still hoping I’ll be able to lose another 5 kg (my aim would be 55kg), but more importantly let’s hope I can mantain it because damn there are periods in which I definitely struggle to eat correctly, especially as in my family we are generally people who enjoy more caloric dishes (so you can imagine the struggle during the festivities, for example), and well, I’m Italian, so yeah, you get the gist, we have pretty good food and recipes here! But I made all this effort to arrive where I am, I have no intention of going back to where I was if I can have a say about it, damn it!

After receiving the thrilling news that “All I want for Christmas” by Mariah Carey is the n.1 hit of these festivities once again, and given that I already couldn’t stand listening to it on the 3rd November, last night I was randomly searching for a metal cover on YT just for to have a laugh about it and I found this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEy6VCBtALs. Result: I spent the entire evening listening to this madman making metal covers of songs, some of which I never thought they could be conceived! It was an entertaining night for sure!! 

I’m developing an unhealthy (because it might lead me to buy them) love for Funkos - but, I mean, look at these cuties: 

(yes they’re about to leave to Lapland for their next mission :p - you can’t see it in the picture but at where the sign points there are other shelves in which there are little statues of Santa and his elves - beat that as a “magical place” Phil lol )

I don’t even know how this started, the point is I was first gifted with a Dumbledore Funko by a friend (I didn’t really get the reason why Dumbledore since I never expressed a particular preference over him, but whatever, it’s still pretty cute and his gown matches the violet/lilac tone of my bedroom, where he is currenty stationed), then I couldn’t resist buying the Goose Funko I found at Disney Store and, shortly after I started watching Agents of SHIELD and worshipping Melinda May, I found that her Funko existed so after some debating with myself whether I should spend my money in such a trivial way I concluded that I decided to treat myself so I bought her; after that could I leave her all alone? Of course not, so Coulson arrived! At some point I guess I’ll buy Daisy as well so the family is reunited at last! Anyway, all this was to say that I have another mighty need in this department:

CARA DUNE!!!!!!! SHE’S SO FREAKING CUTE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STAY AWAY FROM HER?!!?! Well, right now I’m resisting, let’s open bets as to how long it will last lmao!! And there was another one first I fell in love with:

:’D I told you I have a problem! XD

I am here writing this ridicolousness while instead I have to finish decorating a goddamned tea box my mother and I wanted to give as a gift to her friend, and given that according to me it hasn’t turned out so well (I hate rice paper, I repeat, I HATE RICE PAPER), my mother thinks it’s fine, moreover we already struggled a lot but managed to install a forsaken closure because the box originally didn’t have one and the lid didn’t perfectly close the box, so I have to finish this thing instead of following my instinct to throw it in the trash straight away... And what I have to do next is glue a canvas stripe all around the box along with a button and shells... I’m sure I will finally make a mess with the canvas stripe, I’m certain of it, but I’ll have to at least try and pray to be able to give that... thing... to her in a decent state... *sigh* This, if I haven’t screwed up already with the glitters I decided to put in the picture - I don’t know yet, I have to wait until the glue dries... In the meantime I might as well transform in a unicorn for all the glitter I have on me! Oh, not to mention that before I began this project I already was making little pictures that I wanted to hang in my kitchen... Guess with what? RICE PAPER! Why do I inflict these stupid ideas upon myself? *facepalms*

I only recently installed Whatsapp on my phone, despite my annoyance with it, Zuckerberg and so called “social networks” in general (says the one who has been on Tumblr for years, but I don’t really count this one :p ) but it seems that people believe it is easier to communicate this way, instead of sending SMS, and while I have to agree regarding sending pictures or videos, for mere text messages, apart from the character limit per message (something you may guess I have always struggled with :p ), I don’t really see what need there is of another app to communicate with people... Given that the main reason I did it is to contact people for “business” and such and not to use it to send every single stupid thing to friends (I tolerate it as long as it’s occasional and with people I’m close with but I’m generally annoyed by continuous calls and messages so I wouldn’t stand people showering me with tons of messages on a daily basis, something that I sometimes see happening to my parents and friends) and that to friends (who actually already know my “allergy” to all this) I explained once again not to go crazy on me, threatening (even if as a joke) to use the blessed “block” option, I just hope that some people who have my number and I haven’t seen or heard from in a while (and with reason) won’t take this as a suggestion to rekindle anything (it would be also pretty hypocrite from their part, since I haven’t changed my number in years and they theoretically had always had the chance ro call or text me, with or without Whatsapp), because I won’t have any of it!!

I won’t go away for the festivities, apart from maybe a one-day-trip to San Marino for my birthday, as I’ve never seen it during Christmas and I haven’t been there for two years and well, I miss that place, after going for many years for the Medieval fair... I hope I’ll manage to do it! In the meantime I would like to visit again one or two museums in my city, and who knows, hopefully next year is the year in which I finally go visit the Uffizi in Florence - I have wanted to go there for years, but the few times I went to Florence I never managed to take some time to visit the museum; my plan is now to go to Florence just for that and spend the entire day in it, no distractions whatsoever (and on my own, so I can freely visit what I want and at my pace, not having to accomodate the needs of anyone else I travel with)! >:)

[thejollyroger-writer]

Bottom of the Ninth, Two Outs, Full Count

Part Two of Opening Day, Starting Pitch, which is a prologue for Love, Baseball, and Other Things (Part One // Part Two)

Also on AO3

WARNINGS: This story contains both Millian and abusive Swanfire. Sorry if that's not your cup of tea, but this is a prologue, and I'm obsessed with traumatic backstory. This also contains death of a character, grief, alcoholism, verbal and physical abuse, and abandonment. It starts exactly where part one left off.

Thanks again to @welllpthisishappening and @profdanglaisstuff for prompting this story into existence, @ultraluckycatnd for reading over it, and @kmomof4 for flailing so much over this little verse that has become the only thing I can think about. If you'd like to be tagged for future installations, let me know!

(also, sorry there's no cut, I'm on mobile and apparently Tumblr hates me anyway.)

-----

By the time Milah’s birthday rolls around in the middle of April, he has the ring tucked inside a box of letters from his brother and a reservation for the night she turns 26 at her favorite restaurant across town. He even bought them a night at the quaint little hotel next to Washington Square, so they don’t have to trek back across the river to get home that night. And he has the whole thing planned out: dinner, then a show at the Walnut Street Theatre before taking her dancing and taking her back to the hotel through Independence Square, finally lit up for spring, where he’ll stop and ask her to marry him. It’s a perfect plan, really, and he realizes when he calls the restaurant two nights before to confirm the reservation that he has never been this excited for anything in his life.

His friends can tell, too. David is happy for him, planning to propose to his own girlfriend while they’re on their post-graduation vacation, and Emma pokes fun at him regularly about the smile that is always on his face.

So when two uniformed officers knock on the door to his apartment three days before Milah’s birthday and ask if he’s Killian Jones, emergency contact for Milah Smith , it takes all his strength not to lose the contents of his stomach all over their finely-polished shoes.

“Yes, I am,” he says, pulling himself together enough to talk to them, to make sure that he’s not overreacting. “Why, has something happened to her?”

The way their emotionless faces seem to fall at his question causes him to lose his balance, and he reaches out to hold on to the doorway before he falls at their feet.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Jones,” the one to his left says, and Killian doesn’t fail to see the irony behind the fact that his name is Marry . “I’m afraid Milah was involved in a car accident on the Ben Franklin Bridge this morning, and by the time the paramedics got to the scene, there was nothing they could do for her.”

“Oh, god,” he groans, his shoulder hitting hard against the doorway, the only thing keeping him standing. “No, no, no, no.”

“We’re terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he chokes out, starting to close the door before the men standing on the other side of him see him fall apart. But once the door closes, he loses the strength to stay on his own two feet, and he falls to his knees, his head resting on the cool wood of the apartment door.

In losing Milah, he lost everything. Three days from spending the rest of his life with her, and now he would have to live with the question of whether she would have said yes for the rest of his life.

Of course she would have said yes , he tries to convince himself, but it’s useless. He’s learned to never assume even the easiest of things, that’s how he’s survived everything that’s happened so far in his life. So that little voice in the back of his head keeps telling him over and over that there’s a chance she may have said no.

He has no idea how long he stays seated against the door. He does know that the sun has swung across the sky and begins to shine brightly through the front windows, and that by the time he pulls himself back onto his feet, his legs are numb.

He wishes the rest of him was just as numb.

So that’s exactly what he makes happen.

It started with one glass of whiskey, then turned into three, then six. By the time David and Emma come back from visiting their mother for the weekend, the sun has turned the sky a dark shade of crimson, and he is passed out on the couch, what remains of the last glass still in the cup his hand is wrapped around.

“Killian!” David yells, rushing across the living room to make sure he’s okay. He’s breathing, but refuses to budge, and once Emma finds the now-empty bottle of Jack on the counter, they figure out why.

“I hope he’s okay,” Emma comments, adding the bottle to the pile of recycling under the sink. “He usually doesn’t drink this much, and especially not whiskey.”

“Either something happened, or he just randomly decided he was in the mood for half a bottle of Tennessee whiskey.”

“Well, given that he usually refers to it as ‘number 7 swill,’ I doubt he decided just on a whim.”

David turns his eyes down to Killian, his whole face painted with worry, but there’s nothing they can do for him until he regains consciousness, so they leave him there, returning to the piles of papers they left spread across the kitchen table. They study in silence for a few minutes, the ticking of the clock over the stove driving Emma insane, so she speaks, her eyes flitting up to her brother for just a moment.

“I, uh, need to stay here again,” she says quietly, her eyes glued to the paper in her hands so they don’t have to reach what she knows is a worried glare from her brother.

“Neal again?”

“For fuck’s sake, David, don’t say it like that.”

“When are you going to leave his sorry ass for good?”

“I love him, David. I know you know this, and I know you understand. And he loves me, too, he just has some issues he needs to work out and everything will be just fine.”

“Everything is not just fine , Emma,” David growls, his back teeth grinding together angrily. “You think I don’t notice the marks he leaves on your arms? The fact that you’re always crying after you talk to him? You need to leave him, before he does something that he can’t just apologize for.”

“I can’t just leave him,” she says, her voice soft, and when she adds, “Not anymore,” he drops the textbook he was balancing on the edge of the table.

“What does that mean, Emma? Are you— did he—”

“I’m pregnant, alright?” she says bitterly, throwing the paper in her hands back down on the table so she can hold her head. “I’m almost three months pregnant, and I’m too afraid to tell him because I know when I do, he’ll just leave. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?”

“Christ, Emma,” he whispers, and as soon as he realize that her shoulders have started to shake with silent sobs, he pushes his chair back to walk across the table and wrap his arms around her. She turns in the seat, burying her head in his shoulder. “I can’t — I’m sorry.”

While they stay like this, David shedding a few tears for his sister, as well, Killian begins to slowly wake on the couch, head pounding and stomach churning, and when he slowly makes his way to the kitchen to find some water, he is surprised to find David and Emma, but when they see him, they begin to break away from each other.

Sitting down across the table from them, taking very careful sips out of his glass, he finally says, “I take it this means you heard about Milah.”

When they both seem to be more confused by this statement, he realizes he must have made an error.

“Is she alright?” David asks, and somehow Killian smiles instead of breaking down once more, but it only lasts for the quickest of moments.

“No, quite the opposite, actually. She was killed this morning in an accident on the Ben Franklin.”

“What a fucking day,” Emma says under her breath as David moves back across the table to pull his friend in for a hug.

Four days later, the day after Milah would have turned 26, they hold her funeral in one of the nicer churches in town. After asking Liam and David to wait outside, to give him a minute alone with her casket, there is nothing comparable to seeing her laying there, lifeless, surrounded by silk and flowers. Pulling the small velvet box out of his pocket, his hands grip the edge of the wood, the only balance he can find.

“I was — I was going to give this to you,” he chokes out, doing nothing to stop the stream of tears that fall down his face. “I still… I’ve been trying to decide whether I should give it to you, or keep it as a reminder of just how damned much I love you.” He reaches up to tuck his index finger under the buttoned collar of his shirt, pulling out the chain that holds his mother's ring. “But I think, now that I'm here and thinking about it, that I will keep this, both as a keepsake of you, of the years we spent together, and a reminder that my life has been torn apart one too many times from letting people into my heart.”

He holds the ring out in his palm, staring down at it for a moment before he closes his hand around it, feeling the edges of the diamonds cutting into his palm.

“I love you, my darling,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead, a sob fighting its way up his chest when he feels the coldness of her skin against his.

The pain overtakes him. He spends the next three days numbing himself, a dangerous combination of rum and whiskey and whatever else he can find in the apartment, only leaving the confines of his bedroom to find the next drink or relieve himself. On the fourth day, Emma, Neal, David, and Mary Margaret are sitting around the table in the kitchen, actively ignoring the subject of the grieving man who has locked himself away from the world.

Emma knows that David is worried about him — he’s told her that much at least a dozen times since Killian first told them of Milah’s death. The fact that her friend is struggling so much, so obviously, and no one is trying to reach out to him, though, just angers her.

So she decides she can’t take it anymore.

“Christ, enough of this,” she says, slamming her empty water glass down on the table. “That man in there needs help, and if I have to be the one to give it to him, then I will be.” She pushes her chair back, jumping to her feet, but before she can walk away, she feels Neal's hand wrap around her wrist.

“No.”

She whips her head around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“The darkness that took over Neal's face lightens, but his grip on her wrist does not. “He'll be fine, just give him time. Stay here.”

“What? No, he's — he's not okay, Neal. And on the off-chance that he is, he can be the one to tell me that, not you.”

Even if David wasn't watching his every movement intently, he would have noticed how hard Neal pulled on Emma's arm to get her to step back to the table.

“I'm not gonna tell you again, Ems,” he growls, his fingers beginning to leave marks on Emma's wrist. “I don't want you to go in there.”

“Good thing that's not your decision to make,” David says, his whole body tense, but when Neal snaps his head to face him and he sees some of the tension leave Emma's shoulders, he knows it was the right moment to step in.

“Well, it certainly isn't yours.”

“That is my sister that you have your hand around, if you'll remember.”

“David, please,” Emma says softly, and Neal smiles up at her, though that smile scares her more than anything else.

“Yes, David, please,” Neal repeats, the wicked smile still spread across his face when he turns back to him. “Emma knows how this works, and she knows what happens if she doesn't listen to me.”

“You son of a bitch!” David yells, jumping out of his seat angrily enough that it clatters to the floor behind him.

“David!” both Emma and Mary Margaret yell, but he's already halfway around the table, his hand flying out to grab the front of Neal's shirt.

Neal still hasn't let go of Emma's wrist.

“You're going to take your hands of my sister and never, ever touch her again, do you hear me?”

Neal is still smiling.

“And what, exactly, are you going to do to me if I don't?”

David pulls him out of his seat using the front of his shirt. His hand around Emma's wrist tightens further.

“See, that depends on just how angry you make me, because right now, I want to rip your fucking throat out.”

Mary Margaret has turned so white in her seat that Emma fears she may pass out — but she seems to be the only one that's noticed.

“Can I — can I ask you something, Nolan?” Neal asks, his voice free of any of the fear David was hoping to instill, but Emma feels the way his hand trembles. “Why the Knight in shining armor act all of the sudden? This can't be the first you've learned about me — “

“David, please ,” Emma begs, but David either fails to hear her or chooses to ignore her, taking the bait he's laying in front of him.

“She's pregnant, you bastard,” David practically yells, the secret that he's been trying so hard to keep, not even sharing it with Mary Margaret. “She's carrying your child and you're too goddamned selfish to care about it one bit.”

“David,” Emma whispers, and she is finally able to pull her hand out of Neal's grasp, that's suddenly loosened.

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret says at the same time, her big brown eyes full of both excitement and sadness.

Neal turns slowly to Emma, who has covered her face to hide the tears that have started falling, and David finally releases his fist from his shirt. “Is he — is he serious, Ems?” He has the nerve to soften his voice so much, to suddenly take all of the anger it's always full of away, and it just hurts her all the more. She's so afraid of his anger, his temper, his fear of commitment, but he's —

She nods, a glimmer of hope lightening the pounding in her chest. Opening her eyes, she darts to look at him, and she can tell that he is thinking over something.

And then he shakes his head, raising his hands in surrender, and backing away from the table. “I’m not — I can’t —” he sputters, but his coherency is gone. “I’m sorry.”

The three of them watch, stunned, as Neal grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and walks out of the apartment.

Everything is silent. Still. David and Mary Margaret are too afraid to move, knowing that as soon as they do, everything will crumble.

Emma will crumble.

But instead of either of them breaking the silence, disrupting the stillness, it comes instead from a bright-eyed and uniformed Killian Jones coming from his bedroom. The three of them dare to move enough to turn their attentions towards him, and when he finally senses the tension that has filled the apartment, added only by his escape from his bedroom, he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Where are you going?” David asks the question they’re all thinking.

Emma asks the other: “Are you okay?”

He pushes the front of his hair back to slide his baseball cap over it. “I, uh, have a game. I can’t wallow in grief forever, so I’ve decided instead to focus on my pitching game. It’s what…” his voice drops off, his eyes falling to the floor as his hand reaches up to grasp the same chain that always hangs around his neck, which they all see holds another ring beside his mother's. “It's what she would have wanted.”

The engagement ring , Emma realizes. It's what Milah would have wanted.

For a moment, Emma is inspired. Sure, it took him four days to get there, but he's pulled himself back together after losing Milah — and really losing her, not just having her walk out like she knew Neal was going to do. He's turning the energy he's been using to destroy himself back into something more productive.

She can do that, too.

Grabbing her jacket off the back of her chair, she slings it over her shoulder and follows Killian out towards the living room.

“I'm going with him.”

“What?” Mary Margaret asks, at the same time David says, “Stay here, we can talk about it.”

She turns to Killian, his bright eyes lighting up the shadow the brim of his hat lays across his face, and shakes her head, turning back to David.

“I don't want to talk about it. It's over. He did exactly what I expected, so there's nothing to even talk about.”

“Emma—” David starts, but she walks out of the kitchen, leaving the three of them bewildered.

“No,” she calls through the doorway. “I'm leaving.”

“Yeah, uh, me too,” Killian says, a million questions on his lips, as he follows her out of the apartment.

Their walk down the steps and out to the street is silent, and it continues that way for a few blocks, Emma's hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket and Killian's fidgeting with the strap of his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

He has almost decided on how to ask the question lingering on the tip of his tongue when she speaks instead.

“I'm really proud of you, d'you know that?”

He turns to her, but her eyes are still set on the sidewalk at her feet.

“Come again?”

“Your whole world crumbles down around you, and you took a few days to grieve before you pull yourself back up and focus on something productive.”

“Thanks?” he asks, her words igniting a warmth in his heart that he wasn't sure he would ever feel again. “I watched my father drink himself half to death after my ma passed, and when I looked in the mirror last night, I realized I was doing the same thing. The only thing I ever wanted in life was to not end up like my father, and I saw myself doing just that.” He tugs at the chain around his neck, threading his pinky through the ring that has just been added. “And that's not what Milah would want. She always told me to — to stick with the things I enjoy the most, and I realized the reason I stopped focusing on my pitching game was in hopes of finding a career to sustain us. Now that I… now that I no longer need that, I can go back to doing what I love without the fear that it's going to be enough.”

Emma has no response to this, so they walk in silence again for a few more moments.

“Neal's gone.”

Killian breathes out a small chuckle, though once it's out, he can't figure out why. “How long do you think it will be this time until he comes running back?”

Emma flattens her hands against her stomach, but since her hands are in her pockets, Killian doesn't see it. “He's not coming back this time.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, for one, David threatened him. I believe the exact promise was to 'rip his fucking throat out,’ and I wouldn't put it past him to follow through on that.” They both allow themselves to laugh at this, a small release of some of the tension built around them after all that's happened in the past few days.

“And for two?” Killian asks, and when he sees Emma turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye, he returns her gaze.

“He’s too afraid of commitment to stick around and become a father.”

She watches as Killian's eyes grow wide before turning down to her stomach, a smile growing across his face.

“You're pregnant?”

He's relieved so see her begin to smile, too, as she nods her head. Stopping them on the sidewalk, he wraps her in a hug — and she realizes just how excited she really is, even if Neal is no longer in the picture.

Maybe it's even better this way.

“And you know you're not alone, right? You have David and Mary Margaret to help you, and me.” He leans back, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders, and when he smiles at her again, she believes for the first time since she saw that positive sign that everything might actually be okay.

[prorevenge]

Owner screws me over, screws up(s) his business.

To start, I won’t be saying the name of the shipping company franchise I worked for, suffice to say the title is very telling. This is a rather long story, so buckle in. You can skip the backstory and look for the revenge near the bottom. TL:DR at the end.

The Backstory

About five or six years ago I was relatively new to the workforce, having worked one minimum wage job at Mickey D’s. I had been there almost two years, but had little experience elsewhere. Well this one lady always came through early every morning to order a large Diet Coke, and would take a few minutes to talk to me. I mentioned to her that I was displeased with my bosses and the working conditions, and she invited me to come apply for a job at Not FedEx because they were always running low on employees! That should have been my first red flag.

The second red flag went completely over my head, because at this point I was 17 with no previous job experience. When I walked in for an interview, the boss (who I will call Jeph, because it sounds close enough to his name to allow him to remain anonymous) told me it would take five minutes. I wasn’t asked about my relevant experience, my goals within the company, or even told what position I was applying for. I assumed all interviews were different and went along with it, and started the next week with training. Everything went well for the first month. I basically just packed boxes, took down customer information, and sorted mail into the mailboxes we managed. The real trouble started after I was given my one month performance review.

I was deemed to be a valuable asset to Jeph’s franchise, and rightfully so. At 17 I was able to lift more and work better than the 20 and 30 something employees, and due to the work ethic my parents drilled into me I was never slacking off while at work. I was then informed that I would be swapping between Jeph’s two franchises, roughly 30 miles apart. (For context, the franchise I APPLIED TO WORK AT was roughly a mile from my house, so I could walk if I couldn’t get a ride.) Every other day I had to drive out to the location and somehow justify this with my slightly above minimum wage job. ($7.50 for those not in Texas.)

Overall my boss was a massive douche. His physical appearance could best be described as “troll like” with a shirt almost bursting, the top always undone to showcase his aging chest hair, and a face not unlike that of A&F owner Mike Jeffries. He openly cheated on his wife, bragging to coworkers about it constantly. He charged people one dollar for any amount of extra tape they needed on their package, despite the fact that we got roughly two rolls for that price in bulk. He had a special price calculator installed on the computers that charged people roughly 10% more than the package would be elsewhere. He would push employees (who he insisted didn’t work in customer service but sales) to never offer anything less than three day shipping even though we offered standard 7+ days and even cheaper options. I watched him actively lie to customers, claiming it was the price they had to pay blah blah blah, and almost yell at them to go to another store if they didn’t like it. But I digress.

Now here was the first dickish thing that my boss did to me specifically. Until this point, I was only working around 20 hours. After I graduated to working at both stores, Jeph had me sign a brand new W-2 for his second store, which was under a different company. (He owned both, naming one Blue (name for a .44 caliber bullet) and Blue (proper name for visible light)). Again, I had very little idea that this wrong because I had never had to deal with this before. He proceed to add another 20 or so hours to my schedule, bringing me up to 40 hours or more. But since I worked for two separate companies I never earned a dime of overtime or benefits of any kind.

At this point, I started accruing more and more duties, as my boss and coworkers started to trust me more and more. Buy my fourth month of employment (out of a total of eight) I was performing managerial duties such as: opening the store, counting the registers, closing the store, ordering product such as boxes and tape, and preparing shipments for transport. The work alone justified a raise, not to mention the hours I was being asked to work. However when I floated this idea by my boss, he very rudely insisted that since he had a manager for each store already, I was just doing my job and couldn’t earn a cent more.

Then came the second dickish move. We had a large company contract some drop off stuff with us, a telecom company we will say rhymes with Hey Tea and Tea. Customers would bring in their old cable boxes, wires, remotes and the like, and we would scan them and ship them back to Hey Tea and Tea, the company THAT LEGALLY OWNED ALL OF THIS HARDWARE. The customers would not pay us a nickel, but the telecom company would pay almost double what it actually cost to ship the package. There is no way Jeph could look that gift horse in the mouth and decide he was still owed the stable and all the horse’s tack as well, right? Surprise, surprise, Jeph had to take it one step further. ANY and ALL parts/cables/WiFi adapters/USB drives the customer returned to us that didn’t have a scan tag on them, Jeph would pull aside and either strip for copper or sell on eBay. And he would force us, the employees to package his eBay sales or copper wiring into boxes and ship them for him. He even popped batteries out of remotes and recycled them somewhere to get a tax credit. None of his employees ever saw a penny of this money (not that I would have accepted it). We estimated he raked in roughly three to four thousand a month just from stealing alone. For those of you bad at math, that is the price of TWO brand new 2018 Honda Civics.

The Revenge

The third (and fourth) final dick moves are what solidified my hatred for this boss, and my desire to strike back. They both came in the same week, roughly the same time, and both viscerally repulsive. My favorite coworker had recently gotten pregnant, and although the father got the hell out of dodge when he found out, she was doing very well for herself. She and I frequently closed together, and she promised she would bring the baby to sit in the back for the dull hours we had to kill from 6-10. We also had an annual store review from corporate that week, so our boss called a late night meeting after we closed one day. Our boss started out by saying that he was proud of our pregnant coworker for working so hard even with her “disability.” (Yes, even his sense of humor was slimy.) Then, in front of all fifteen employees, HE FIRED HER. He told her that because the Christmas season was coming up, and she would only slow down the store being pregnant and all, he had to let her go.

After she left, hatred seething in her eyes, he turned back to the fourteen of us who were left stunned, and continued on like nothing had happened. He proceeded to tell each of us our jobs for this weekend, leaving mine for last. My job, because I used to drive a decently sized mini van, was to ferry the corporate required supplies, cash for the safe, and OUR ONE WORKING FIRE EXTINGUISHER between the two stores while he kept corporate distracted between visits.

At this point I had taken enough shit from this guy, and I formulated my plan. I started by calling the Hey Tea and Tea fraud department, and telling them everything I knew. I took pictures and emailed them directly to the rep I was talking to, who seemed a little too excited about fraud being committed. I then scheduled a visit from a Hey Tea and Tea rep at the same time corporate was supposed to show up. My next step was to call Not FedEx and explain exactly what I just told y’all, with a few extra things thrown in that I couldn’t share for privacy reasons. They promised to send a rep as well, to the same store, at the same time.

The final step was put into action that Saturday. I dutifully loaded up my van with the supplies, cash (upwards of $4000 if I remember correctly), and fire extinguisher, and headed out. Except I did the exact OPPOSITE of what Jeph wanted. I took the crap to the first store he owned, which was the second one to receive a visit. After he texted the team saying they were moving on, I packed up all the shit and drove it to the other store they just left. Now I am unsure exactly what happened at the other store, but from some coworkers I pieced together that the Not FedEx rep showed up right after I left, but didn’t stay long, and the Hey Tea and Tea rep showed up just before Jeph had arrived and had time to hide his ill gotten gains in his office. The one coworker who was close enough to the office during the corporate meeting said there was lots of angry words being thrown and threats being made towards Jeph and his position as a franchisee. He also lost his franchises the ability to ship for Hey Tea and Tea, at least for a period of time.

Regardless, the very next day I was off because I was (and as cliché as this sounds I swear to God it’s true) helping my grandfather who just got out of the hospital. I receive a call from Jeph, saying I needed to come in right away, and work a double shift as well as close the store. I told him I couldn’t do that, and I was taking a personal day. He fired me right then and there, citing my usage of the work computer to run a photoshop business during work hours. (I’m assuming he was referring to the graphic design work I did FOR HIM, FOR FREE, which he asked me to learn how to do.)

The sad epilogue to this whole story is that he is currently still in business, and still running the same scams he was before. He WAS however fined for not having proper supplies in his stores, as well as forced to use corporate’s package rates rather than his own. So in some small way my revenge worked. He currently has a two star review on Yelp for both of his his businesses, and I hope to have a party outside his store one day when it goes belly up.

TL:DR: Boss is a total douche bag to me and customers, steals from a contract company, fires a pregnant woman for “slowing down the store” then gets his ass reamed by corporate and loses the major contract.

(source) (story by Chewbacca_Q_Wookie)

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 47: How Exactly Can Any of This Get Resolved In 2 Episodes?

Ah, it’s 4AM, and these people decided it was finally time to pass out after a day of getting tied to bandsaws, getting tied to anchors, getting abducted, getting possessed, getting tied to various types of chairs, building box forts to escape your abductors, falling off of the box forts you built, beating up like 8 people, falling madly in love with Serenity, throwing lots of dice at people, falling out of love with Serenity, learning to see for the first time after a very major operation, having a fistfight on the roof of a 4000 ft in the air blimp, eating a mountain of tacos at a buffet, falling into the ocean, driving a helicopter into a shipping crane, drowning, telling your school bully that you are a reincarnated Pharaoh, learning that your favorite playing card is your one true love who died 5000 years ago, getting dangled off of a 20ft rope tied to a flying helicopter, deciding that your favorite playing card is in fact NOT your one true love who died 5000 years ago, telling a bunch of strangers about that one time your baby brother killed your Dad after seeing a single motorcycle, and getting trapped in the Shadow Realm in a giant hourglass.

They’re pooped. And, we get a nice montage of all of Kaiba’s itty bitty luxury beds that were really only built for Yugi and Mokuba and have been just super inconvenient for everyone else.

And Joey is not dreaming about donuts, instead he’s having guilt dreams.

and then, yes, she in fact did chain herself up to a wall and he watched her drift away.

CONGRATS, GIRL!

Man, by Yugioh standards she just got engaged, right? Good thing everyone else thinks Bakura’s in a plot coma because that is going to be the most unexpected walk of shame.

Also in this montage, Kaiba is not sleeping, and is instead staying up on his computer researching dragons. Yeah. Sounds about right. I honestly can’t picture Seto asleep. I don’t think he does that. I think occasionally Seto kind of pauses wherever he’s sitting like a fish, does a quick Rem cycle, and then he’s back to furiously typing on whatever computer he’s sitting at 10 minutes later.

(read more under the cut)

Meanwhile, these two are duking it out on the roof. I reallllllly wish they were actually punching each other like Tristan and Duke showed us a few episodes back but, nah, it’s cards.

Again, no matter who wins this fight, it will be a very good outcome for our protagonists, so it’s really a fight between which of the evil dudes do you like more? Do you like the Local Nasty Boy Next Door who cannot go to card prom with you because he’s too busy stabbing himself in the arm and murdering? Or, do you prefer the New Cargo Pants obsessed boy in town who seems completely unaware of which century it is, what a blimp is, and what clothes are supposed to be worn with what clothes. Or, is your fave Oldstyle Cargo Pants, who committed atrocious acts of blasphemy, violence and murder just so he could drive a motorcycle around at a moderate speed while wearing a sensible helmet and senseless pink crop hoodie?

All of them really want to destroy/rule the world, all of them really want to kill god (well, Yami, so basically the laziest godform I’ve ever seen in an anime) and all of them probably smell like super bad. Make your bets, they’re all three gonna have a card fight.

And to make this duel somewhat more confusing, Marik likes to sort of take over Bakura’s body and shout at himself. It’s...there’s a lot of psychological stuff going on right now. Anyways, this is when we find out officially that Odion decided not to tell Marik that he killed his own Dad, and instead blamed it on Shadi.

So I guess that’s why Shadi’s been hiding this whole tourney? I mean, Shadi...just kind of peaced out...and like other than being an exposition dump I’m not sure why he ever bothered to come here today?

But because Marik was in Tea’s brain without me knowing, he overheard the true story for the first time, and he was like “ah yeah I’ve killed a loooot of people, this makes sense.”

Bakura has taken almost an entire season, but he’s decided that now he’s playing cards anyway, he wants the good kind. Bear in mind, Bakura was passed out during the other duels where we found out that God Cards are ass.

And I will say that like, in caps there’s some things I can’t really show you since they’re meant to move--but Bakura and Marik turning into pieces as they duel was visually a pretty fun idea. It felt like the animation team was really enjoying it. Like this was their duel to cap the season and so they made it as much a ridiculous spectacle as you can a paper card game. (and the animators probably welcomed a change of place, they’re running out of weird ways to place cards down on a very large watch)

And then we revisit a familiar locale.

So like...this place is different.

First off, my favorite giant green bowling pin is just...gone...and then second off, either Yugi is just getting older, or Yami is just taking up that much more space. But this room definitely wasn’t brick lined before, which is...that kind of says a lot about what Yugi’s been sacrificing to have this puzzle installed into his brain.

Also, apparently Yugi drew a fish once and he was so proud of it, that it got immortalized in here.

The red tomagachi is exactly like the one I had in Middle School. I killed it so many times. I also like how they dodged Nintendo copyright but still gave us a little nod that yes, Yugi is a Nintendo nerd but legally cannot say so. I actually went and looked up handheld systems, and this one looks a lot like the Gameboy Advance. I cannot imagine the spooky stories that happened involving this particular Gameboy Advance, and if maybe that’s why Yugi no longer plays the thing.

Like I’ve been catching up on some GDQ and with Yugi’s curse, do you think he CAN just casually play a video game? Or, do you think he’s just always speedrunning and breaking games whenever he sits down to them? Like he’s just naturally doing TAS runs every time he picks up a controller, glitching through walls and going to the final boss when he’s only at like level 2? Like when he picks up Pokemon he probably almost never has encounters, and then when he finally does it’s just MissingNo and he’s like “Man, I have like 20 of these, and they all look like ass! I just want a freakin rattata.”

Anyways, Yugi was feeling kind of bored here so he went across the hall to visit his friendly neighborhood parasite.

And so, much like how Marik has decided to have a heart to heart with himself on a very tall ledge, so has Yugi and Pharaoh. Except, they’re not having a chat about who killed their own Dad, because we have never seen that guy and he may as well not exist, it would make no difference on the show.

Unless there’s a twist coming up that Yugi killed his own Dad, which, even with this show, I think we can safely assume he has not.

I’m pretty sure.

Just angsting out in my mind labrynth with my 5000 year old emo ghost, wearing lots of guyliner and belts around both our necks. Staring into the abyss made of the convoluted maze of unused stairs and unopened doorways of my unraveling mind. Don’t mind me.

I can’t believe they brought up Shadi only to completely change the subject because even these two are like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bro brings up that between the two of them, Pharaoh is a lot more hesitant about looking into his past. Something about people being stored underground for 5000 years and the murdering and all that extra stuff makes him maybe consider that maybe this power ain’t so great. So he’s just...decided not to open doors anymore. Yugi’s going to do it anyway, and Pharaoh will support him in that search, but Pharaoh alone is just fine not knowing if he was an evil asshole 5000 years ago. He doesn’t want to know or really see the point in finding out if it’s fact or not. There’s enough evidence already there. Ignorance is bliss and all that.

But it seems like if one is doubting the other has to not doubt just out of necessity. I don’t know what happens to this brain if both Yami and Yugi become depressed.

I mean like...

...

It was on the wall in the museum, right?

And like, Ishizu is down the hall and you could just ask her, right?

Shadi is around, he probably knows, or at least can go invisible and check.

The short term memory on all the children on this show, I swear. It’s almost as bad as real life children.

Anyway, the very last episode of the season is next and like...we made no steps towards resolving any of these plot strings so next episode is either going to be 4 hours long or it will just be a title card at the end of the episode that says “And then they all died! The end!” just like my very first stop motion animation feature when I was a wee tot, which honestly would probably make more sense than how they will probably end up tying all these lose ends. If they...ever do it.

Not holding out.

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read all these recaps in chrono order from S1 Ep1, knock yourself out http://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[lavender-lotion]

I was tagged by @bloody-bee-tea and by @areiton , so I figured I should actually do it ;p I have been writing for a little over a year and a half, and in that time have written & posted a lot of fic—but scrapped even more. I’m currently procrastinating from writing, so I’m going to list every wip in my wip folder, and also explain all the wips I currently have as open tabs (since I’ll know what those are)

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you, or interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!!

My Open Tabs

Bruce/Hulk/Peter - A long fic (like, 17 chapters?) in which Peter gets with Bruce and Hulk. That’s the simplified version, anyway.

Stallison - The first part to a multi-part series that includes: trans!Allison, supportive Chris, past (and present) Petopher, dick bag Scott, adorable doting stiles

Feral Derek - This is a fic I planned out back in February. Young Stiles runs away from home one night and finds feral Derek hanging around the Hale house. They fall in love

Sr. Stetopher - A fic I started a while ago. Chris and Peter get together and then team up to cour the Sheriff

Puckurt - A Puckurt long fic that is set right before Deuts, in which Kurt finds Puck outside of the convenience store and takes him home

And I Will Always Remember (The Way We Fit Together) - A 3 chapter Stucky fic where the only plot is Steve having a small dick (should be posted in February)

Jealous Tony - Multi-chapter fic that’s gonna end in Bucky/Tony/Peter

Sheriff Stilinski Gets Some Good Lovin' - A 12 chaptered fic where the Sheriff has sex with each pack member

Stilinskicest - A fic set in my Hold Me Close series. The entire plot is literally: watersports

Sophia BDay - A Stackson fic I'm writing for @sohama-p birthday 

Sing to Me, Oh so Sweetly - A long Steter fic i’m posting during January. Vague historical au, magical Stiles, and siren!Peter 

My WIP Folder

(listed by the folders I have them in)

Clint/Stiles, OC FanFic

Twins/Stiles, stiles/alpha pack?, makeup stiles, Funeral - TW FF - Lydia POV, Fine Again - Stiles/OMC, Falling Togther, drunk stiles, chris/derek dom/sub, bamf stiles idea

alpha stiles omega john, Drunk dick pic stilinskicest, John/Jordan/Stiles, makeup stilinskicest, Possessive fox sheriff claims son, stiles gets magical clone and they fuck john together, stilinskicest abusive claudia

=stiles+chirs big fight - stetopher found family, haunting, library spark, Soft steter->stetopher, Sr. Stetopher, Sr. Stetopher short, stetopher spin the bottle, tattoos, triad of badasses

familiar steterek, Set up on date, Steterek kisses, steterek sad derek, young steterek, young steterek (yes these are different fics with the same doc title)

a/b/o steter, Ally fic, Asshole Derek - meets Peter in club sex, boxer fic, breathing you in sequel, continuation to fox!stiles, for gwen, fox stiles instalment, hale family, high school play au, Peter only one notice stiles is hurt, steter accidental love confessions, steter courting??, steter for harry—alpha rut, steter kidfic, steter-sleep over-meet hales, year away chp. 1

couch cuddling, FTH, Halloween fluff, Kate takes video of essential rape, late night healing, mind reading get together, Sterek AU

Sr Stalion and Stennis, Stennis, Stennis sex

Starrish chp 2, starrish kiss

gift for merwin, stargentcest training porn

stargent fic

camboy stiles - stanny

stallison

murder husands/dark fic, smut, relationship reveal, time travel, stiles joins the alpha pack, free day (canbyou tell I planned out an entire appreciation week and wrote none of it?), Stalion magic alpha pack, sugar daddy deuc, twist idea?

season 2 stackson, stiles in make up

Dressing porn, JR/Tyler, RPF

Deter, deter marriage proposal

Bucky/Peter sex worker fic, bucky/stiles, Ned/Peter 2, spideypool asexual fluff, spideypool makeup, Starker sex worker, starker field trip, starker ideas (a doc with about 4 fic ideas), starker first time, stiles fighting doom, thor/peter, thorki jotun marriage, prompt fill thor/stiles

Glee fic list (a doc with a bunch of glee fics), kurtofsky, kurtofsky, puckurt, puckurt, puckurt, sam/kurt, tw x glee

So ... uh yeah, I have a lot of ‘wips’? And the list just keeps growing, Jesus. I’d love questions about any of these, I love talking about fic!!

I tag: @the-redcrate @sohama-p @ateanalenn @merwin-me @hd-hale @thegirlwhoknits

[frangipanidownunder]

The Shape of Shadows: part 7

A/N This is basically a re-write of season two, assuming that M&S start a romantic relationship after they are separated as work partners. Tagging @today-in-fic  

Need to catch up? Read the previous installments: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

He couldn’t resist the jibe.

              “Yes, and also I've always been intrigued by women named BJ.”

              She indulged him with a brief smile and they spent the rest of the journey discussing the strange case. It surprised him when she pointed out the possibility of an affair between Tillman and BJ. It surprised him more when she responded with, “A woman senses these things.”

It floored him. It was a ridiculous admission that he’d never considered Scully to be in touch with her femininity. She was a scientist, a skeptic, his rational half yet she had deduced the affair through nothing more than intuition.

He dismissed her but her tight smile told him she was right. If Scully could see through two strangers’ movements and words and white lies, then surely she could see through his. He loosened his collar and let out a long sigh. What a fucking mess he made of things. Here was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he was fucking it up big time. Scully was being patient, saintly with him. She wasn’t pushing, wasn’t expecting anything from him but honesty and he couldn’t even give her that.

The case demonstrated the depth of family ties, the horrors of genetic makeup, the fear that generations could continue to inflict wounds on others in the name of history. How could he commit to Scully when he hadn’t saved Samantha? How could he give her what she needed if he couldn’t even admit to her what he’d done in California?

When BJ slashed at him he relished the pain. The sharp slice of the knife was a fitting punishment. He would bear that scar and look at it when he needed a reminder of his frailty, his guilt.

 Melissa was at Scully’s making herbal tea. It stunk like weeds. She smirked as he grimaced.

              “How’s the arm? Dana said you’d been injured on your last case.”

              He looked at the band-aid. “I’m fine. It’s all but healed.”

              “No scar?”

              “It might leave a mark, but it’ll fade,” Scully said, coming into the room with her hair piled in a towel and a flush of pink on her cheeks. “He’ll be good as new soon.”

              He tucked his chin to his chest and stood there, awkward as Melissa poured the tea.

              “Dana said you’re back on those X-File cases. Paranormal stuff. Sounds fascinating.”

              “It is,” he said, taking the cup. The liquid was pale green and a tendril of steam unfurled as he lifted it. “But it’s not to everybody’s taste.”

              Melissa raised her eyebrows and for a moment she looked so much like Scully. “It’s green tea with ginger. It’s good for nourishing the soul, Agent Mulder.”

              “Just Mulder,” he said, taking a sip.

              Scully laughed and sat at the table. “Mulder’s soul is long past nourished.”

              “It’s never too late,” Melissa said. “And Agent Mulder looks like he’s troubled. Is there something weighing on you, Fox?” She drew out his name and he swallowed more of the tea.

              “Missy,” Scully said, a warning note in her voice.

              “His aura is the wrong colour, Dana. If you opened your eyes you’d see. What is it, Fox? What’s burning away at you?”

              The sound of his mug hitting the countertop was like a warning bell. The liquid tipped side to side and spilled out, leaving a strange coloured pool on the surface. He watched it leach out, dribble to the edge and spill.

              Scully grabbed a cloth and stemmed the flow, dabbing away until the stain disappeared. “It’s okay, Mulder. Maybe you should go. Get some rest.”

              “Maybe he should stay, Dana. Something’s going on. I can feel it. There’s a strange energy between you two.”

              “There’s nothing going on,” Scully said, but her response was snippy, too quick and it wasn’t lost on her sister.

              “You’re defensive. You’re blushing, Dana. This is the exact reaction you had when I caught you out with Jeremy Carmichael. You protested your innocence and then it turned out you’ d been making out in Mom and Dad’s bedroom while they were at the Military Ball.”

              Mulder stepped away, grabbed his jacket, headed for the door. This was becoming dangerous. Scully was seething, steam billowing from her head. Her fists formed tight white balls.

              “Mulder and I don’t need to make out in secret, Missy. We’re adults. The FBI doesn’t own us. We aren’t running around like teenagers hiding from our parents.”

              “So you are having an affair,” Melissa said, standing tall with the news. “Why didn’t you say? Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?”

              The door handle felt cold in his hand. He was in the corridor, striding away before Scully caught up to him. “Mulder, where are you going?”

              “I think it’s best if I leave.”

              Her fingers gripped his arm. “Missy is just being mischievous. She loves the drama. Don’t let her get to you.”

              “Scully, it’s not that. It’s…we’ve…I…”

              “You what? What is it? It hasn’t been the same since…”

              Her voice hitched and he looked past her to see Melissa in the doorway of Scully’s apartment, arms folded. “I think it’s been a mistake. We can’t work together and be together. I can’t…none of this is your fault.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. She sunk slightly. “The X Files are the most important thing in my life. I didn’t think I’d get them back.”

              “So I was just a consolation prize?” She shook him free and stepped back. “Is that it?”

              “No, Scully. It’s not like that. I…you are too good for me. I should have known. I just fuck things up and it’s not fair to you. You are the single best thing that’s ever happened to me but…”

              “But what? But it’s all too hard? The brilliant Fox Mulder might have to open his heart and feel something? Is that it?”

              There were tears in her eyes, ready to fall. Her nostrils flared. Her chin tilted upwards. Her shoulders squared. Anger tinged every word. He deserved nothing less.

              “Scully, when you were gone, I raged against the world. I couldn’t see anything but my own misery. I wallowed. It’s what I’m good at. The pity and the shame and the guilt. They spur me on.”

              “What are you talking about, Mulder?”

              “I took a case. Insisted on investigating it myself. I broke every rule in the book, I…”

              Melissa stood closer, hands on hips. Scully glanced over her shoulder but her gaze levelled at him again, expectantly.

              “I slept with a suspect. I missed you so much but at the time I thought you were dead. I gave up on you. I gave up on us. You don’t need me. I mess things up. I take and take and I break and break. You’re better off without me.”

 The walk to his car was dark, inside and out. The interior was shadowy-grey, lit only by the dashboard lights. The engine throbbed to life and he drove into the inky night without a clue where he was going.

[cyrelia-j]

[ficlet] #3 Plan Nine Prologue (Jack/Julian)

So going off this post I decided to go ahead with the next drabble/ficlet series.

Check the tag “the new jj frontier” for all of these. I’m aiming to go strictly chronologically and will add links to all the parts so it’s easier to keep track and reread or catch up. #1 #2

Summary: Jack and Julian grew up together in the Institute, fell in love, and got married. As part of an experimental program Julian [a success story!] was allowed to join Starfleet and was assigned as CMO of Deep Space Nine as a test run along with his husband Jack (who’s still struggling to find his place). This is their story.

In this installment, Jack and Julian meet Garak the Cardassian spy!

Pairing: Jack/Julian though there will be G/B/J in some fashion

Warnings: None yet but a note that they do have a semi open relationship

Notes: In addition to retelling the series, I also wanted to explore Jack and Julian’s relationship as it changes. I like seeing how old expectations and habits can grow stronger through change and conflict. Jack in this story does still have a lot more issues than Julian, and I wanted to explore Jack coming into his own more as an individual instead of just the “Julian’s husband”/dependent role where he starts.

           “That it, that’s him!” The exclamation is still low enough that no one else but them can hear but Jack is sure to throw every ounce of warning that he can into that tone. He doesn’t trust the motion of his hands not to be read and he sees Julian sit up a little straighter.

           “Are you sure?” he whispers back, hunched over his eggs.

“Of course I’m sure, why would I say it if I wasn’t sure? Why would I be making a scene if I… I’m making a scene right, quiet Jack, eat, natural, you rehearsed this hmhm.” while Julian makes a much bigger show of eating. Jack nearly knocks the plate on the ground as a distraction because he was not prepared for this so soon and even though he and Julian had gone over Possibilities and scenarios last night, nothing could have quite prepared either of them for the Cardassian Spy approaching them so soon.

             Well, more Julian than Jack, he’s sure because his reconnaissance and his notes were very Clear on the matter of Cardassian aesthetic preferences and Julian’s neck, Julian’s frame, everything about him is absolute Cardassian bait and as much as Julian had seemed to hesitate last night but he isn’t hesitating now and Jack can see (as he tries not to look like he’s seeing) that the Spy is drawn to the table - surely to Julian because people generally aren’t drawn to Jack when given the choice but - but he’s right there next to the table eyes feasting on the both like a carrion feeder hungry, a creature of the night looking to suck blood or secrets and Jack doesn’t recall reading that Cardassian eyes had hypnotic properties but Julian is staring the way he does so clearly it’s up to Jack to kick Julian under the table and-

             “Doctor and Mr. Bashir, isn’t it?” That’s… a very soothing voice, Jack thinks as those eyes sweep from Julian to him and he nearly drops his fork, not used to that sort of prolonged eye contact as he clears his throat and wrenches his head away.

           “Maybe. Who wants to know?” Jack asks deciding that offense is good defense and he feels a kick from Julian back because he’s being Rude but last he checked he didn’t need to be polite to a Spy unless this is scenario number nine where they play spy on the spy and he sees the discreet sign of nine and sits up straighter not sure if this is where he should be smiling or not.

             “I’m afraid I have to apologize for my husband. Jack here startles easily,” Julian says with an encouraging nod, both of them nodding and maybe Jack saw him coming from a mile away but he doesn’t know that and the smile works itself more easily onto his face because this is part of Plan 9 after all.

           “Oh no offense taken, I assure you. As the only Cardassian on this station I’ve received much worse receptions from much less pleasant company. My name is Garak-”

           “Second station tailor proprietor of Garak’s Clothier’s 02-485,” Jack recites unable to help that supply of information breathing out slowly because that may have been ill conceived but Julian is well, Julian, parlaying that into a smile, drawing attention, good good, lure the lizard into their trap mmhm!

           “We may have been a bit curious,” Julian says doing that thing he does where he looks shy, Garak turning back and Jack hears him murmur that he’s flattered to have gotten the attention of the stations fascinating new couple. Fascinating? Them? Oh indeed, says the silky spy all spider like as he pulls up a chair and all but purrs (ah that drop of voice, that sweet vibrato to Jack’s ears nearly has his eyes fluttering nicely and he has no idea how even a spy would know how deeply that sound resonates and Julian lightly pokes him under the table again with his foot, Jack pulling his thumb from between his teeth to look back at Garak and nod yes yes new friends, they’re definitely new friends and so far so good no mention of their suspicions and he’s sure the game is already on.

             It amazes Jack how neatly Garak divides his attention, Julian’s eyes lingering on his curious profile when attention is back to Jack and Jack really needs to remember to keep his wits about him because surely surely Julian can’t be trusted not to think with his-

           “Such a sweet boy,” Garak says, Jack realizing that he’d offered him tea while Julian nods in encouragement because right, Plan Nine mighty fine mighty-

           “Jackie is very sweet when he wants to be,” Julian agrees teasing him and Jack… needed that because it lets him blink some focus back as Garak declines getting back to work leaving the offer of his company later or “professional services”, a hand brushing over Jack’s as he rises, another over Julian’s shoulder and Jack is still sort of stupidly looking down murmuring softly “sweets to the sweet, farewell.”

             “Well,” Julian says a bit breathlessly. “I think we’ve got him… right?”