#yes that’s a shitload of tags just don’t question it

[foggybear42]

gerard and elody have such an interesting dynamic, ‘cause elody is someone who had to grow up too quick, and gerard is someone who never had the chance to grow up in the first place

[hellfiredemon]

15 people, 15 questions

tagged by @cuoredimuschio 💞

are you named after anyone? My English name comes from a Diana Wynne Jones’ character, like a straight up kid's book. My Chinese name is really embarrassing. It comes from a historical figure. My dad came to the US for his education and his father was resentful that he wanted to immigrate here and would not be able to spend as much time with his family in Hong Kong, so when my grandfather chose my name, he named me after a historical figure who was given away to* barbaric foreigners.* I want to change my name to something else but haven’t and only my relatives in HK call me this but I haven’t been back in so long so it doesn’t matter as much.

when was the last time you cried? About a month and a half ago, my friends put down their dog and Facetimed me so I could say goodbye to him.

do you have kids? Nope and can honestly say I’ve never wanted to have them. I understand from an aging standpoint that it makes sense to spawn a caretaker but I don’t think I’d be able to care for another human being like that, I can barely take care of myself and my dog as it is.

what sports do you play/have played? I dance a lot now, but I don’t compete so I don’t think it qualifies as a sport. In school, I did track and field, volleyball, and tennis.

do you use sarcasm? Frequently, but I’m also embarrassingly earnest about many things as well.

what's the first thing you notice about people? Probably how they dress, groom, and carry themselves and whether they seem comfortable to be in public or not.

what's your eye color? Brown

scary movies or happy endings? I don’t really watch horror, but maybe I do prefer scary movies because I like a lot of movies that are a little uncomfortable to watch, where you don’t know what will happen in the end. When it comes to movies, I think I’m ok with having a bittersweet or even unhappy ending, probably because movies tend to be shorter and less immersive for me. I guess I don't need a happy ending for me to enjoy something but the story's gotta be compelling.

any talents? I can whistle through my teeth, am an adept conversationalist IRL, and am good at interviews and general corporate bullshittery, which I think is how I’ve managed to stay employed but do very little work 🤐

where were you born? The US Midwest! But my parents moved a few months after I was born, so I never really lived there.

what are your hobbies? Reading, dancing, calisthenics, drawing, strategy games, playing with my dog, hiking, and admiring art, zoning out, floortime

do you have any pets? Yes, the love of my life and warmer of my cold feet, a 3.5 yr old muppet-ass looking border collie-poodle mix named Charlie. I couldn't figure out how to put a picture between the numbered list so his pic's at the end.

how tall are you? 164 cm 🥞 my mom's side is short 😔

favorite subject in school? English or history. I loved reading books and stories and talking about them, and still do.

dream job? I don't want to work, and don't dream of labor. The closest thing I can think of working for the US govt's Digital Service, which probably sounds crazy but I think at least that way I'd get to use my skills for something useful. I’d be perfectly content to pursue hobbies the rest of my life. I fantasize about moving to a country with universal benefits and not having to worry about the numbers on my paycheck and do something I actually think is good for the world or just work on art or dance full time. I wanted to be a mail carrier for a long while, walk around the city all day and listen to books or music and deliver people’s letters and meds and stuff, but you also have to deliver shitloads of stupid ads and bills as well. I think if I ever save enough money from my dumb corporate jobs that I still might try to work for the USPS. I don't know 15 people, tag yourself if you want to do it!!! And here's my lovely boy!!

[strangersatellites]

another tag from @outpastthebrakers

15 questions

1. are you named after anyone? yes! my great grandmother on my moms side and my grandmother on my dads!

2. when’s the last time you cried? i couldn’t tell you to be honest. I am not a crier.

3. do you have any kids? no and i would rather die

4. do you use sarcasm a lot? yes, constantly

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people? i notice people’s voices! but i think that’s just because i am hyperaware of my own

6. what’s your eye color? very dark green

7. scary movies or happy endings? scary movies 

8. any special talents? yes, y’all know me as a writer, however i can also draw!

9. where were you born? the hospital

10. what are your hobbies? reading, writing, watching a shitload of tv, making playlists, tweetin’

11. do you have any pets? no i don’t like critters

12. what sports do you play or have played? i didn’t. i was a dancer for a long time though!

13. how tall are you? 5’5 allegedly, but i read tall (i don’t know how to explain this to you. if you get it you get it)

14. favorite subject in school? english, specifically shakespeare despite the fact that i went to a math and science school15. dream job? celebrity publicist or tour manager! like specifically, i want to stand on the red carpet at the met gala with a clipboard and a bluetooth

once again, not tagging anyone but you feel so led

[songficsbyrissi]

Make A Baby (T’Challa  x Reader)

“I'll be your Cinderella-ella (Aye) Then maybe you and maybe me Can maybe meet and m-m-make a baby Then maybe you and me Can meet and make a baby, let's make a baby” - Nicki Minaj

A/N: here’s an idea I thought about writing for MONTHS now but I thought it would be too stupid to write. However, with the tragedy we are currently facing, it wouldn’t hurt to write. If I tagged you in this and you’re not in the mood, please don’t feel obligated to but I wrote it to lift the mood. It’s all fluff and humor so I hope this puts a smile on your face through all the grieving 💞🙏🏾

************** You wanted a baby. You NEEDED a baby.

No ifs, ands, and buts about it.

You were ready to bring a life into this world and nurture it. All with your handsome husband King T’Challa. Simple enough, right?

Wrong. Here’s where the problem comes in.

You and T’Challa have only been married for 6 months. When you were engaged, you expressed to your future husband that you wanted to spend at least one year married before trying for a baby. Ultimately, he agreed with you. You know you wanted your husband all to yourself for a year or two before sharing him with a child, but shit changes. Your baby fever was at an all-time high and you wanted a baby now. You wanted to tell him but he seemed happy not having children right now. He got to live his life, do a whole bunch of dangerous shit, come and go as he pleases without worrying his children. He grew to love your agreement while you grew to hate it.

“Fuck it. I want a baby.” You declared quietly as you laid in bed next to T’Challa. The man stirred a bit and mumbled tiredly.

“What did you say, my love?”

Fuck. He was supposed to be 100% asleep. Well, there’s no backing out. Your mother raised a strong woman who says what’s on her mind. Here goes nothing.

“I said I’m feeling achy.”

Wow. You are a pussy. Your mother raised a pussy.

Your loving husband turned to you with a concerned but tired face. “Did you want me to call the medical staff? Because I-“

You bit back a groan and turned your back to him. “No, I’m fine. I just slept wrong. Go back to sleep.”

“Whatever you want, my love.” He planted a kiss on your shoulder and turned back around to sleep.

“I want you to nut in me.” You muttered under your breath.

“Pardon?”

“ I want you to butt and knee! Do some butt and knee workouts! Damn! Good night!”

The next morning, you smacked yourself on the forehead when you walked past the training grounds and saw your husband doing intense squats in his panther suit. He turned to see you and gave you a smile.

“Ahh, my Queen has come to see me do the butt and knee workouts! I am doing them right, Yes?”

You struggled to put on a fake smile and give him a wave as he demonstrated a squat for you. “Yes, you are, my love! Keep going! I’m proud of you!” You turned away and dropped your smile. You got your husband doing bad bitch workouts because you were too much of a pussy to tell him you want his baby. You gotta do better in life. You ran into Erik who was failing to hold back a laugh.

“Yo why the fuck is T on the training grounds trying to get thick?” Erik laughed harder, looking back at his cousin. “Nigga thinks he’s Megan the Panther or some shit!”

You glared at the laughing royal, crossing your arms. “Erik, it’s not funny. He’s only doing that because I’m an idiot.”

Erik stopped laughing and put on a face of puzzlement. “Wait what?”

You shook your head walking away. “Never mind. It’s a long story that you can’t help me with.”

He caught up to you and stood in your way. “And how do you know that?”

“Because you’re Erik. It’s ingrained in you to always have a bad idea.”

He put a hand on his chest in feigned hurt. “Ow, Ms. Queen! That hurt! You might as well slap a nigga in the face while you’re at it!”

“Oh, that was next. Now move out of my way, N’dickhead!”

“Hey! The nickname shit is my thing!” He shouted after you. “Damn, I miss being the only American here.”

You figured it out. You were going to try the subtle approach. Slightly let him know you were open to having a baby now and it was going to happen on your trip to the market.

The king held your hand tightly as you two walked through the market. You stopped at the carrots and saw an opportunity.

“BABY, look at those cute BABY carrots! Aren’t those BABY carrots so cute?!” You put emphasis on the word “baby.”

He gave you a weird look. “Uhh yes? They are adorable.”

You began to gush even more. “Don’t you wanna just have a BABY carrot?”

T’Challa smirked at you, shaking his head in amusement. “I see what you are trying to say.

You felt relieved as he grabbed you by your waist, lovingly. “You do?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead. “Yes I do and we shall prepare baby carrots when we get home.”

Yes! You were getting your baby! You couldn’t wait but you had to eat dinner first. Gotta get your energy up before you get your legs up. You sat on the opposite side of your husband at the royal table. You made eye contact with him and he winked at you, causing a non-visible blush to appear. The servants brought out the food and you were too stuck in your daydream until Erik’s voice broke you out of it.

“What the fuck is this?”

You looked down on your plate and your smile fell along with it. On the plate was Wakandan cuisine with a shitload of....baby carrots. What the fuck?! You glanced back at your husband who had a face splitting grin.

“What the fuck is this shit?!” Erik questioned and Queen mother slapped his head. “Ow Auntie!”

“Watch your language at the dinner table!” She scolded and turned back to her plate.

“Damn she picking up on the swears......”

“My queen pointed out to me multiple times that she wanted baby carrots today at the market so it is only right I had the chefs prepare some. I told you I could pick up hints, my love!” T’Challa declares happily, digging into his meal.

“Yeah...thank you, sweetheart.” You gritted out, popping a baby carrot in your mouth and you wanted to gag.

Not the gagging you were hoping to do today.

Once dinner was over, T’Challa had to attend a meeting with the tribes and you had Erik come beside you as you walked to the royal garden and you finally explained the weird shit that was happening.

“So what you’re telling me is that I had to sit at that table and eat those nasty ass carrots because you’re too pussy to tell your HUSBAND to give you his dumbass seed?!” Erik glared at you in disbelief. “I swear to God, y’all niggas make it hard for me to stay redeemed.”

You scoffed in annoyance. “Erik, this isn’t about you!”

“Like hell! It became about me when you made me eat those nasty ass carrots!”

You sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alright! I'm sorry! If it makes you feel any better, I fucking hate carrots and I had to eat them.”

“Just tell that nigga, man. He don’t do hints or all that special shit. You just gotta be blunt and tell it like it is like I do.”

You thought about it and thought about it and finally shook your head. “Nahhhhh. Imma sneak it into a conversation.”

“You should not be this damn nervous to say you want to get nutted in.”

So the next approach was sneaking it into a conversation. How’d that work out? Well...

“Awww look at this! Russell and Ciara had their baby!” You showed him Ciara’s Instagram on your phone. You two were in his office, discussing a trade for him to sign off on.

“Who is Ciara again?”

You rolled your eyes. “A singer. She sang Goodies! My goodies! My goodies! Not my goodies!” You began to sing but he barely paid attention.

“Speaking of Ciara, there was a song meant for her that Nicki Minaj recorded-“

He finally looked at you. “Nicki Minaj! That’s the woman made a Friday the color of pink!”

Ok, so he half listens to you. “Uhhh sure, anyways, she recorded it but never released it. It’s called Make a baby. It’s goes, “maybe you and maybe me can meet and make a baby.” You stared into his eyes singing it slowly.

“Oh, I see why it was not released. No offense but The song sounds terrible.”

You groaned loudly slamming your head on the desk. Why did you marry such a gorgeous yet moronic man?! You should’ve have to spell this out for him.

“My love, do you always slam your head on surfaces? That might be the cause of your aches.”

Okay, so approach #1 and #2 did not work. How about approach #3?

You burst through the doors of his office on a mission.

“I want a fucking baby!”

Your eyes widened, seeing a group of superheroes in his office and not one glimpse of your husband anywhere. This group of superheroes were the fucking Avengers. You were embarrassed was an understatement. T’Challa came up beside you.

“Ahh, I see you’ve all met my beautiful queen, Y/N. Y/N, these are the Avengers.”

You waved sheepishly. “Hey...Avengers...”.

They awkwardly waved back at you in response.

“I heard you say something, my love. What is it?”

Shit. You definitely weren’t going to repeat the words now that you have an audience.

“I said Iran is a maybe! You don’t remember but remember when I said I was making a list of countries to visit next month and I said we were definitely going to Iran? Well, now it’s a maybe. A lot is going on over there. So it’s in the “maybe” column. Yeah.”

You must say, your ability to bullshit and bullshit quickly was impressive. If your future baby inherits that, you’re in trouble.

“Oh okay, we can discuss that later, my love.” He kissed your cheek and you awkwardly turned on your heel to leave the office. Just like that, approach 3 was a complete fail as well. You were such an idiot.

When T’Challa finally retired to your shared bedroom for the day, you were still wide awake. All these approaches were not working. Honestly, fuck approaches. Approaches were not getting you pregnant.

“T’Challa.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I want to have a baby.”

He shifted beside you. “I’m sorry?”

You sighed sitting up in bed and staring at him With all the sincerity you could muster. “I want to have a baby. I know I wanted to wait a year or two but I changed my mind. I’m ready to be a mother now.” You expected him to have a serious face, ready for a discussion but instead, he was....amused. Had his cheekbones poking out along with his signature smirk.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to tell me that.”

“Oh my God! You knew?!?!!”

He sat up, chuckling at your expense. “Yes, I knew.”

You hit your husband in the chest. “You ass! How long did you know?!”

“When you said it in bed that one night,” T’Challa replied, causing you to hit him again.

“Wait so you had me making an ass out of myself to tell you I wanted to have your child?!”

He held his hands up in defense. “Hey, that was your choice, my love. You should have just told me, instead of creating all these complicated ways to say it. I am your husband. You should not have to beat around the bush with me.”

Damn, he was right. Damn, Erik was right. For once in his life. Damn him.

“So.....what do you say?” You asked sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. You made eye contact when he grabbed your chin and kissed your lips sweetly.

“My love, I’ve wanted children with you ever since I fell in love with you. I was always ready to be the father of your children but I wanted you to be ready to be the mother of my children.”

You smiled widely, kissing him again. “And I am. I am ready to give you children.”

T’Challa began to climb on top of you. “Then what is the holdup? I must...nut in you? Is that the proper language?”

“Yes! Yes, it is! Now do that!”

And unlike your approaches, it only took you and T’Challa one time to get what you wanted.

Tags:  @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy​ @dramaqueeenamby​ @marvelmaree​ @guccixcucci​i @brattywriters-anonymous @cancerianprincess​ @creole-mami​ @maddiestundentwritergaines​ @blowmymbackout @ljstraightnochaser @blackpinup22 @airis-paris14 @vibranium-chakra @sociallyawkward18 @chefjessypooh @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @slimmiyagi @imasmille @ashanti-notthesinger @thehomierobbstark @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @quietstorm-73 @90sinspiredgirl​ @lewatigress @kaykay0829 @queennanayaa @mysticbrownie @holy-minseok @queenof-wakanda @destinio1 @raysunshine78 @amelatonin​ @lewatigress​ @ambthegamer​ @fandom-fangirl22​ @catzspaceships​ @darkskin-buttercup​ @blackrockshooter780​ 

[clintbartonswife]

Man Of Iron

Pairings: Tony x Reader, Happy x Pepper Summary: After the final battle Tony is rushed to medical, his family visits him during his recovery. Notes: If you cant tell I’m still mad at the ending of endgame - fuck that ending Warnings: slight angst, shitloads of fluff masterlist  

The burns on your arms were a constant reminder of one of the hardest days of your life. Peter had joked that they were the Avenger’s membership badges, showing his matching burns proudly.

They were the reason he was still here.

When Tony put on the gauntlet you instantly joined hands with him, Nebula’s story about the power stone ringing in your ears. Catching on, the others soon created a chain, the power spreading across the hundreds of bodies united against the mad titan. It was poetic really, everyone standing in line as you watched them all disintegrate, people you considered family bonded by the marks of the biggest war ever fought.

And you had won.

Tony had been in a coma ever since he had fainted, just a few minutes after watching Thanos disintegrate, the last words on his lips being “shawarma?”

Since then you had only left his side to shower twice when Pepper or Rhodey had forced you to.

“How’s the old man doing?” Nat asked, slinking into the room, “Still breathing?”

“He’s doing good” 

Despite the spread out power of the stones, Tony had lost his arm to the initial surge of energy, a large burn spreading up the side of his neck.

“He’ll have a field day designing an arm” Peter had said during his first visit. You had just nodded with teary eyes, Morgan buried sleepily into your side as you watched the rise and fall of his chest to reassure yourself, “Maybe give him and Mr Bucky some common ground. That’ll be good for them both”

“Peter’s bringing Morgan here in a bit, Happy and Pepper are bringing Harley”

That brought a smile to your face, the idea of seeing them cheering you up considerably. Nat noticed and pulled you into a hug, the reassurance you felt was enough to make you tear up. 

“Peter said that he’s been enjoying his time as a brother - said that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing that he missed the smelly phase” Nat said, trying to distract you, “He and Harley are really getting along too whenever Pepper’s over to look after Morgan, looks like a real friendship could be blooming there”

You nodded along as she talked, your eyes hardly ever straying from Tony’s chest.

“Happy even mentioned taking time off of work to stay here for a few nights, let you go home and recuperate a bit. Morgan’s been a bit fussy the last few days”

“I cant leave him”

Your voice was cracked from misuse, though the terror you were feeling was clear.

“I cant. I just feel like the moment I leave him for longer than an hour he’s going to slip away - it’s been a week Nat. He should be better than this now! I thought Wakanda was supposed to have special healing shit?”

“They do”

“So why isn't it working?”

She released a heavy sigh, nodding slowly, before settling further into her chair.

“Okay”

The second time the kids had visited, Morgan had asked the one question you honestly didn’t know how to answer.

“Is daddy dying?”

Rhodey had just tightened his grip on your shoulder, both of you desperately trying to hold it together in front of them. Peter - god you had missed him - was a smart kid, too smart for his own good, and immediately jumped in.

“He’s just sleeping, he’ll wake up when he’s better” Peter had smiled, placing Morgan gently on the side of the bed away from any important looking wires, “See? As long as his chest is moving up and down, that means he’s ok”

Morgan had nodded, curling up into Tony’s side, eyes glued onto the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

When Peter had turned back to you, the tears rolling steadily down your cheeks, you opened your arms to him. You watched as the smile dropped from his face, his body barrelling towards you, burrowing his face into your neck as you embraced him, fingers carding through his hair as you murmured empty promises. 

Rhodey had moved to stand by Morgan as you manoeuvred the two of you to the chair in the corner of the room, still hugging as you sat down, and allowed him to curl up like a child on your lap. Without a dry eye in the room, you focused on soothing Peter, your soft murmurs filling the room.

Nat standing up broke you out of your reverie, your eyes straying from Tony to see Morgan and Peter standing in the doorway.

“Mummy! Peter bought me an ice-cream” Morgan grinned, the remains smudged around her mouth, “I at it all really quickly and I didn't get any brain freeze!”

“No way” you smiled, gently wiping the mess off, “how did you manage that?”

“I’m magic”

“You sure are” 

Quickly engulfing her in a hug, you moved over to Peter and gave him one too.

“Where’s the party?”

The familiar voice made you freeze on the spot, eyes widening.

“Daddy!”

You spun around, clutching Peter’s hand in yours, blinking in disbelief at the sight in front of you.

“I’ll get the doctor” Nat said urgently, running out of the room.

“Tony?”

Your voice wavered as you stepped closer to the bed, Peter standing just behind your back, spare hand reaching out to steady Morgan as she bounced excitedly next to the bed.

“Hey baby” he croaked, his signature grin on his face as he looked at you, eyes shining, “I’m guessing we won”

You just nodded, hand reaching out to gently cup the side of his cheek, “Yeah we did”

“Morgan? Pete?”

“We’re here Mr Stark” the teenager murmured tearfully, tightening his hold on your hand as he moved closer to the side of the bed.

“I’m here too!” Morgan squealed, moving to your side and demanding to be picked up before giving Tony a wide grin, “Peter bought me ice cream!”

“Wow! That's amazing pumpkin” he grinned, craning his neck to check that Peter was really there before turning his attention back to Morgan, “what flavour?”

“Strawberry with sprinkles” 

“That sounds yummy -” he paused, face scrunching up in pain as he tried to move his arm, eyes widening when he realised he couldn't, “what?”

“The stone … it took your arm. I’m sorry Tones”

He seemed to sink into the pillows slightly, a huff leaving his lips.

“Well, I guess I wasn't coming off scot-free, huh”

Sensing the change in the mood, Peter leaned over the bed slightly so that he was in his eyeline, “Good news is you can make a cool prosthetic for it now! It could be red and gold like the suit, and I - I could help if you want”

That seemed to cheer him up, a grin coming easily to Tony’s face, “great plan kid”

Peter nodded, grinning at improving Tony’s mood. He backed away as Tony’s gaze turned back to you, his eyes pulling you towards him.

“It’s okay now” he whispered, his good arm moving to cup the back of your head, gently resting your forehead against his, “I’m sorry”

You chuckled wetly, hands gripping at his t-shirt, “Just - don't do that again Tony. I don't think I could bear it if you-”

Your voice broke off, Tony humming soothingly, hand caressing the nape of your neck.

“I promise to never use the gauntlet again” he said, humour licking a his tone.

You pulled away, wiping your tears as you laughed, “Good. Or else I would’ve had to … hurt you”

He scoffed lightly, raising his eyebrow at Morgan, “She wouldn't”

Joining the joke, Morgan nodded vehemently, face mock-serious as she leant closer to her dad, whispering in his ear, “Oh yes she would! Mummy can be scary”

Looking to Peter for backup, the teenager just shrugged, a barely restrained laugh playing at his lips, “Morgan’s right, y/n can be terrifying”

Tony huffed, sinking further back into his pillows, “I see how it is, I guess I’ll have to just stay here for the time being then”

“YES”

Tony looked shocked for a second at the three of us shouting, before bursting into laughter.

“oh -ow” he groaned, arm flying to his stomach as he wheezed, “I get it!”

The moment was disrupted as Natasha burst back through the door, a group of doctors on her heel.

“Everybody out for now please” the main doctor said, bustling towards the bed, eyes shining with purpose, “We’ll call you back in when we have finished assessing his situation”

The ramps were not the only new addition to the Stark farm. Peter’s laughter echoing through the rooms were a welcomed addition, one that seemed to complete the house.

The arm was also new, shining at Tony’s side like a badge of honour - and in a way it was. Hours spent in the lab with Peter had brought the arm to life, the two using the time for bonding, coming out of it closer than ever.

Visitors came more often, Nebula dropping by every time she was on-earth, Rhodey finally settling down in a house only ten minutes away (which had nothing to do with Tony guilting him with his missing limb) and starting a slightly confusing relationship with Carol Danvers. If it worked for him, it was fine with you - you weren't going to judge him.

Natasha made sure to stay in touch, her and Bruce staying with the Barton's for the time being. Steve, Sam and Bucky were god knows where, though from the look of Bucky’s Instagram they were happy.

All in all, your life was better than it had been in a while, and for that you were eternally grateful. And if Tony felt your burn mark every night before you went to bed, only to check that this was all in fact real, well, the doubt would fade with time.

________________________________________________________________

Tags:  @xxloki81xx​  @geeksareunique  @bangtan-serendipity​

[dallas-owns-my-ass]

Bad For My Rep.

     Paring: Dallas Winston x Singer! Reader

     Summary: Reader gets forced to sing in a choir as a form of community service.

     Warnings: idk cursing, smoking, vandalizing, prison?

     Tag List: @staygoldponebone​ @botanicaldarling​ @rosecoloureddudez​ @shepards-love​

If you wanted to be added just let me know :)

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

     I shook the spray paint can again and held down the button, watching the black line grow in the direction that I moved my hand. I loved everything about spray paint. The sound it makes when you spray or shake it. The variety of colors. The whole style of street art in general.  It was something we had to ourselves, us kids in the street. I finished it off, taking a step back and just looking at it. West Side motherfuckaaa. I thought to myself as I chuckled. 

     “How you gonna like laughing about that in prison?” 

     I whipped my head around to see a cop. A very unamused cop. Fuck. I scanned my surroundings, debating running or not. His car blocked one of the exits and his partner’s in the other. My chances were slim to nonexistent, so being logical for once, I decided to hold my ground. Better to go out like a man right? 

     “You know vandalizing’s a crime? No you probably didn’t. What would some wasted thug know about anything?” he laughed, finding himself amusing. I smirked as I responded.

     “If that’s what you think”

     “C’mon we’re taking your ass right back to jail, and you can explain to a judge why you were out at 3 am spraying gang signs on a public structure.” He pushed me against the wall, handcuffing me. Damn. I really was about to go back to jail. I just got out too. Dally’s gonna kill me. 

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

     I was not looking forward to that phone call. But I had to do it if I wanted a chance of getting out of here. I reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed his number. After a couple of seconds, he picked up.

     “Hello?” his voice was deep and raspy. He probably just woke up. 

     “Hey baby”

     “Y/N? What’s wrong?”     

    “Man, something doesn’t always have to be wrong for me to call my boyfriend”

    “Doll, it’s three in the morning... What happened?”

    “Y’know, it’s not really a big deal or anything but.... I may or may not have got arrested again. And I kinda need you to come down here and see if you can bail me out or something.” He let out a long sigh.

    “Babe, how many times have I told you to be more careful?” He was angry. Not that I blamed him though. I would be angry too. I did get angry when he got arrested for some stupid shit. It was my own fault for being careless. 

    “Were you drinking again? Uhh Y/N, how could you be so careless? Do you know what could’ve happened to you if you happened to stumble across the wrong kinda guy? Do you know what happens to pretty, intoxicated, young girls at night on the streets Y/N!” 

     “Yes...” I responded my voice trailing off sheepishly. I hoped it wasn’t evident in my tone that I was hurt. I hated when he yelled at me. And I hated that he was always right. He let out a long sigh.

     “Of course you do. I’m sorry for yellin’ at you doll. It’s just that I can’t help worrying for you. You’re all I got. Besides, if anyone dared to mess with you, you’d kick their ass. You’re one tough broad.” I could feel the smirk on his face as he said that. “I’ll be down at the station in a couple of minutes baby.” He said as he hung up.

     He groaned as he approached the cell where I was being held. That couldn’t be good. 

     “Babe, they said there ain’t no bail this time” Shit. I was either going to jail for a couple more months or getting a shitload of community service hours. Hopefully the latter. 

     “Eeh, don’t worry about it Dal”

     “I’ll just get a few months, that’s all.”

     “Yeah but those months gonna feel like forever without you there.”

     “I’ll be out before you know it. You should go get some sleep baby, it’s late. Or should I say early now?” I leaned in to kiss him through the cell bars. We only got a quick peck before the police officer yelled at us. 

     “Fuck him.” Dally mumbled before leaning in again. The officer basically dragged him out of there after that. I smiled. Classic Dally. 

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

     There I was, sitting in my defendant chair, at my trial. Fun times. Dally, Johnny, and Sodapop came. Dally, because he had to, Johnny because he’s my best friend, and Sodapop simply because he had nothing better to do. 

     “Due to past offenses and lack of change in behavior from past prison sentences, I sentence Ms Y/L/N to 45 hours of community service, which can be completed in the span of 35 days at the local church.” 

     “With umm, all due respect your honor, can I just go to jail instead. Y’know sweeping floors and shit just ain’t really my thing.” I looked at Dally. He was smirking, trying to suppress a laugh or something. I sent a nasty glare his way.

     “That type of profanity will not be tolerated in this courtroom Ms. Y/L/N, don’t make me tell you again. And I believe there is a choir that is in need of young members.” 

     “A choir?” I questioned, unimpressed. “You want me to go sing to God for spray painting some bridge? That just messed up man” Soda started laughing, apparently finding this whole situation amusing. “I ain’t takin’ yall to my court shit no more”

     I walked out of the courtroom, Dally trailing along behind me. To say I was pissed was an understatement. How was she gonna make me go sing at some church and say that it’s community service. I mean, yeah I had a good voice, but you just don’t go walking around singing here, it was a quick way to get your ass kicked. Besides, I was supposed to be some hardened criminal or something. You ever see some hardened criminal dancing around on some stage. No. And you can bet your ass you won’t. That’s just how things work around here, and some people aren’t ever going to understand that.

     “C’mon babe, it’s not that bad” he grabbed my arm, pulling me close to him. “I mean at least you’re not locked up somewhere, ‘cause we can still do stuff you know?” he winked. Of course that’s what he thought of, but I couldn’t help but smile. Dallas just had that effect on people. He could make ‘em laugh if he knew them real well. I leaned in for a kiss.

     “Yeah I guess it ain’t so bad.”

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

     “I gotta wear this?” I almost yelled, holding up the choir robe. 

     “Why yes dear, it’s mandatory for all performances. Lucky for you, this is only a practice.” the nun replied. I was going to have to change that.

     The nun lead me into the music room. The room got silent the moment I entered. They all recognized me, either from the paper, news, or they saw me in the midst of doing something illegal. This would be the last place they all expected me to show up. But here I was. They soon all resumed what they were doing, going back to their chatter and practicing riffs and other stuff among those activities. A young woman approached me. She was a little taller than me, skinny with straight red hair and thick glasses. She looked familiar somehow.

     “Bass, alto, or soprano?” she asked. “I don’t sing.” 

     “Alto.” she stated. She clapped her hands twice. All the students looked up, and got into their places without even mumbling another word. These guys must be strict. Here’s the little problem with that. I don’t follow rules very well. I never have, and I’ll never care to learn. She dragged me over and placed me in the middle section, in the front. Great, I thought. Now she’s gonna be watching every little thing I do. She sang out “la la la la la la la” and everyone else repeated it back to her. Yeah I wasn’t really feeling that so I didn’t. She repeated the exercise for the third time, and after seeing me not doing it, she pointed at me and called me to the front, right next to her. Here we go again. “la la la la la la la”. I once again ignored her attempt to make me sing. I wasn’t going to do it. Sorry man, it’s bad for my rep. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t want to sing, I loved to. It’s just that I didn’t want to sing in front of a group of people just for them to laugh at me. She closed her hand, silencing everyone else.

     “La la la la la la” I just stared at her and shook my head nonchalantly. She was persistent for she repeated it again. Realizing she wasn’t going to stop until I did, I sung it back quietly and purposely off-key. She shook her head and did it again. This time I sung it right, but still quietly. She nodded her head and smiled, as she made the rest of the choir resume. We continued this and practiced some other classic gospel songs for the rest of the time. 4:30, finally. I went to leave, following all the other students out, but her voice rang out.

     “Y/L/N, stay after.” Great. Just what I needed. 

     “Why weren’t you singing?”

     “I was” I corrected.

     “Doing the bare minimum required is not singing. I know that the only reason you are here is to fulfill your service hours and then go back to being a menace to society after but, while you are here you will not be a burden to my choir. And yes you may have been mumbling the words to the songs incorrectly, but unless you are adding something to the group, you are a burden. So you may want to consider contributing something to this group. Is that understood?”

     “Yeah I guess. I just don’t know what you think I can ‘contribute to this group’. I ain’t got no talent or nothing. All’s I got is drugs and street smarts man.”

     “As I heard before, you have a nice voice, which can be contributed by singing the lead to out next song, don’t you think?” 

     “No I don’t think so. If you think I’m gonna get up and sing by myself in front of God knows who, you’re crazy.”

     “Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to sing while you’re here, so you might as well try.” she urged, grabbing sheet music and handing it to me. She sat down at the piano. “I’m assuming you’re familiar with ‘Oh Happy Day’?” I nodded in response. “So sing it” she said as she started playing the rhythm on the piano. 

     “Oh happy day” I almost mumbled. She stopped playing.

     “Sing out, nobody’s here to judge you” she started playing from the beginning again. 

     ‘Oh happy day.” I repeated, this time a little louder and clearer. “C’mon you aint gonna scare no one.”

     “Oh happy day” I sung out loudly, my voice vibrating off the walls of the tiny room. “Now you got it.”

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

     I was sitting on the couch, my head on Dally’s shoulder, watching Mickey Mouse with the bois. 

     “So, Y/N, you gonna be singin’ in the choir this Sunday huh?” Soda asked, even though he already knew the answer. “Mhmm” I responded curtly, not wanting anyone else in the gang to know about it.  

     “Blimey Y/L/N, I didn’t know you were in a choir.” Two-Bit explained. “You should’ve told us Y/N, we would’ve came if it meant so much to you.”

     “Lay off it Two-Bit, it’s for community service.” I said, rolling my eyes, lighting a cigarette. That was the last thing I wanted, for all of them to show up to see me mumbling words, wearing some cloak, looking like a complete idiot. 

     “Geez Y/N, it’s not like I asked for your first born child. What’s got you so mad anyways?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious. What part of forced to sing in a choir wasn’t he getting. I threw the pillow next to me at him lightly. Dally chuckled. 

     “Don’t get so worked up about it doll” he provoked, smirking. “Shut up Dal... What’s everyone gonna think when they see me up there, in some crusty robe. I’m supposed to be tough or something, and singing doesn’t really help with that much”

     “Oh c’mon babe, you’re doing community service hours because you’ve been to jail too many times or something like that. Everyone in there’s already scared of you.” I had to at least let a tiny smirk on my face. He was right. He always was.  “I know” he said smugly. 

     “Huh?” I questioned. “You said all that out loud doll.” Oops. “Fuck you.” I said, sticking my tongue out. 

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

     It was the big day. Fun right? Yeah no. The room was almost full with people and we were about to go on. I didn’t even know people still went to church. Nope. There was no way I was doing this. There were way too many people for my liking. I would just go back to court, and take whatever excessive penalty they gave me. I may go to jail, but at least I’d have my dignity. I was just about to walk out when the teacher came up to me. 

     “You’re really about to leave right now?” she raised her eyebrow. I nodded sarcastically in response. “So all that hard work, all that time and effort, not only put in by you, but by the rest of the choir, you’re just going to throw it away? If you leave right now, not only are you screwing yourself over, but the rest of the choir, and the people who were expecting us to sing today.”

     “You can find someone better to sing my part.” I remarked.

     “Oh, so you’re scared? You’re scared they’re not going to like your voice. You’re scared you’re going to ruin your reputation. You’re scared to show them that you’re exceptionally talented. Now let me tell you something. I don’t care who’s out there today. I don’t care who’s watching or judging us. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to sing, no matter what. Because I’m not going to let you screw over this whole choir, and more importantly, I’m not going to let you screw up your chance to have a perfectly good opportunity to do something that you may love. So today, you’re going to get up on that stage and you’re going to sing for whoever the hell may be listening. And you’re going to do it well. You owe it to us. After that I don’t give a crap what you do. You can leave and go to jail time instead. Just not today.” she demanded, leading us all out onto the stage. 

     I took my usual spot in the back, but she pulled me to the front. She gave us a 4 beat count off and the piano started. I scanned the audience. Right in the front row was the gang. Shit. I panicked. They couldn’t know about this. I was already nervous to begin with. There was no more time to worry. The teacher pointed at me, cuing me to start. I sang the lyrics quietly, and not that well. I finished the first verse.

     “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” She said. “Come here.” she pointed next to her in the very front. Feeling quite embarrassed I took my hands and shoved them in my pockets, staring at the floor. “You take your cues from me.”

     “la la la la la la la.” We repeated it back to her. She pointed at me. “You.”

     “la la la la la la la.” I repeated the tune. “Sing it”

     “Oh happy day.” I sung, this time loud and clearly. You could feel the tone in the room shift. “Oh happy day” people looked up in shock, maybe because I was singing it, or maybe because we sounded really good. “When Jesus washed. When Jesus washed. When, my Jesus washed, he washed my sins away.” I threw a couple riffs in there to make it fancy. 

     “la la la la la la la.” we sung this warm up again a few times. “Let’s party.” the teacher said. “He taught me how” we sang in harmony, as we clapped on the second and fourth beat. “Oh he taught me how” I walked toward the front of the stage even more, the simple rhythm moving me. “To wash, to wash” I repeated from the background melody. “And live rejoicing. Yes he did. Oh yeah. Every, everyday.” I continued. The melody went down a key. “Oh, oh, happy day. Oh happy day yeah. When Jesus washed. When my Jesus washed. When Jesus washed.” I went into my falsetto. I finally gained the courage to look over at the gang. Soda’s jaw dropped, and Dally just sat there with a look in his eyes that I just couldn’t place, but they all definitely looked surprised. The crowd even started clapping, midst performance. I couldn’t help but smile. “My sins away. Oh you know I’m talkin’ bout happy days. Oh yeah. Sing it. Sing it. Sing it. Yeah. C’mon. Oh happy day.” We all finished, arms up in the shape of a v. The crowd erupted in applause, standing up too. Wow. I never expected such a positive reaction. We all took our bows and headed off back stage. 

     I changed back into my greaser attire, and headed out in search of the gang. I found them quick, easily spotting Darry. The second I reached them they all swarmed on top of me. Steve pulled me under his arm, pretending to hit me on the head with his fist. 

     “Damn, Y/N, you never told us you could sing like that” Darry marveled. “Any other things you’ve been keeping from us, like a secret son or somethin’” Two-Bit joked. They all continued like this for a while, until Dally interrupted. 

     “Alright, alright. Damn I can’t even talk to my own girl with all you bums around.” but even he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah c’mon guys, let Y/N go talk to her boyfriendddd.” Soda started. “ooooooooh” they all joined in. “Oh shut up.” I said playfully, shooing them off with my hand. Dally walked me out to his car, his arm slung over my shoulder. He opened and closed my car door and then went around to get in. 

     “Look man, you know I’m not good at this type of shit but, Goddamn Y/N. You never told me you had a voice like that. Man I ain’t exaggerating when I say that you have the most beautiful voice I ever heard. Shit, I never knew my babygirl was so talented.” he took his eyes off the road to give me a quick kiss. I was smiling so much by then. The car swerved, almost hitting a tree. 

     “Dally!” I almost screamed while laughing. “What baby, it’s only a tree.” he was laughing too.  

     “I guess community service ain’t so bad after all.”

More Like This

[xlehukax]

And that’s all for the voting! My condolences if you didn’t get a chance.

(psst- but if you’d really like to input a vote, dm me, I may just humour you) 

And now, the grand reveal! 

Lehuka’s September Fic will be...

Drumroll please- 

All These Things That I’ve Done, A KiriBaku Fic! 

Ah, for everyone who wanted alien shit! Congrats! Done and done, my friends. This one is gonna be fun to write, that’s for sure! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the finished product on Tumblr, but don’t worry, as it will always be posted on Ao3! 

(and who knows, maybe I’ll write some of the runner-ups too-) 

And, in the second question, I asked if you wanted another what you’d pick. And it appears that people actually want a Check Yes sequel? Even if it’s a whole shitload of angst? Who knew?? I don’t know when I’d write it, if I will even write it, but it’s nice to see that there’s interest in it. 

Thank you to all that voted! Let’s do this again sometime, yeah? 

[fics-not-tragedies]

If you found this it’s probably too late

It’s the promised second part to “My baby always threatens to leave”. It definitely more emotional than the first part, so be warned y’all! But it ends good ;)

SUMMARY: John crosses the line with being workaholic and you decide to end your relationship with him. Words:  1816; Warnings: angst and shitload of other emotions;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @mikaneonox; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @drunkonyellow; @semtempoirmaoo; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a–1–1–3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @keanu-fics;

Your bags were already packed, waiting for you in the hall close to the entrance. The letter you scribbled on first sheet of paper that got into your hands was placed on the kitchen counter. All you wanted now was to leave the house before John could got back home, from yet another job.

Last time you talked with him about how much you hate when he takes too many jobs, threatened that if he wouldn’t take it easy on his work, you’d leave him. Of course he promised you that everything will change and you two will spend a lovely vacation somewhere.

It all was just a broken promise.

There wasn’t any single thing you could do. You were just tired.

Tired of him coming home late, to a dinner that got cold hours ago. Tired of waiting, not knowing if he’ll come home. You know that one day he won’t arrive late for dinner, all you’d have will be a phone call with someone’s voice on the other end of line saying that he’s been killed. This was the part that scared you the most.

You loved him with all of your heart, but you couldn’t live like that any longer. You’d much rather break your own heart by leaving him, than wait for that heartbreaking phone call to finally happen.

Much to your own surprise he came home earlier, the sound of him opening the doors making you snap back into the reality. You were standing on the stairs, watching carefully as he moved inside and called your name without receiving an answer.

He walked into the kitchen and noticed the sheet of paper on the counter, taking it into his hand. You could bet he was carefully reading it in total silence and when he got to the end he called your name again, much louder this time, with something that sounded like he was scared you were already gone.

“Yes?” you spoke as calmly as you could and he turned around to see you sitting on the steps.

“Care to give me an explanation?” he demanded and you walked down, moving closer to him.

When you scooted closer to him, the look on his face changed. His forehead scrunched and you noticed how his chest was moving up and down rapidly.

“Didn’t you read that?” with your back pressed to the wall you asked him, his face red with anger and he took few steps towards you.

John teared the letter looking straight into your eyes, “You wrote me a letter, saying how much you love me, yet you still have to leave?! That’s not how love works!” he shouted, the letter he held in his hand now turned into shreds.

“Do you think I enjoy staying at home and waiting for you every night with a dinner that went cold already, thinking if it’s the final moment in which they’ll call saying that you’re dead? YOU THINK THAT’S HOW LOVE WORKS?” you were waving your hands in front of your face, absolutely pissed off now. All you wanted now was to leave the house and come back later to pick up your suitcases.

John took a step forward clenching his fists like he was about to hurt you some way, not only with words, but physically this time. But you knew he won’t do it, he wasn’t able of hurting you, he was your John after all…

When you turned on your heel with the intention of walking away he grabbed your wrists, clenching his fingers around them too tightly, pulling you back into the place you were standing in.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” he shouted at you, “We haven’t finished this conversation.”

“John, it finished in the moment you raised your voice at me. I’m done with everything and I’m going out. I’ll be back late in the night to pick up my suitcases”  you took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly, but your head was aching and you just wanted to drown your sorrows in few drinks.

“You’re going out? Dressed like a slut?” your hand met his face right after he said the last word. The slap echoed in the whole room and you noticed how your sudden movement surprised him. He was confused, the red hand print left on his cheek burned him and he touched it with his own hand.

“How could you…” the tears that formed in your eyes were burning them and you were more furious than few moments before, “Now I’m even more certain I should leave you.”

“No… no darling please, let me explain” he wanted to sneak his arm around your wrist, perhaps hold you in his embrace, you raised your hand trying to slap him again, but this time he took a step back and your hand flew right in front of his face, but didn’t met his cheek.

“I don’t want any explanation!” now you were the one that shouted at him, removed his hand from your wrist, rubbing it, trying to ease the pain from his tight grip and ran up the stairs, leaving him alone in the living room.

“Darling please!” he screamed and you heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs, as he followed you upstairs.

“John, the conversation is over” you turned around to face him.

“But I still want to talk…” he babbled, the frown on his face was breaking your heart. There were tears dancing in the corners of his eyes.

You stood with your arms crossed at your chest and he stopped few steps away from you, his fists still clenched, knuckles white.

“There’s nothing we can talk about right now. You… you said too much and it’s all...” you stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, thinking through everything you wanted to say right now, “it’s all over now John. Go on and find someone who doesn’t dress like a slut.”

“Darling you know I didn’t meant it!” he dropped to his knees, sneaking his arms around your calves, “I can’t live without you! You… you’re the only reason that keeps me going!”

“It sounded like you meant every word that left your mouth.”

“Just please don’t leave me… please... no more fights, no more crying, no more lies… I just want you darling, please stay” he was on your knees right in front of you, slowly turning into a begging mess. You’ve never seen him like that, you’ve never seen him so… desperate. He wasn’t afraid to show you his vulnerable side and you loved about it, you loved how behind this cold fasad was a truly loving person.

“Jonathan” you breathed out his name and he hugged your legs tighter, pressing his face to your thighs, “I don’t want to wait by the phone every night, wondering if this is the final night of your existence. I don’t want to wake up in a world in which you’re dead” tears were rolling down your cheeks and you couldn’t find the strength to look down at him right now, “This was the beginning of the end and we both knew it, we were just too afraid to admit it.”

“Just… just tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll let you go” he probably doesn’t believed what he said, but his voice echoed in the hall, proving that he really said that.

“You said you didn’t wanted lies, so I’m not going to lie to you...”

“Please, don’t leave. I want you… I need you more than I ever did. You’re everything I have right now” he hugged your legs even tighter and you gasped loudly.

“Jonathan…” you breathed out his name again and you felt how he was shaking now, his face pressed close to your thigh. There wasn’t much you could do right now, with his arms wrapped around your legs, restraining your movement.

“Please tell me you will stay… tell me that you won’t leave me” his eyes were raw red, tears dripping down his face and when you touched his cheek he pressed his face further into your touch.

“It’s easier for me to leave you now, than to wait for you every night hoping you weren’t killed in action. I don’t want to be known as the girlfriend of dead Baba Yaga. I want to grow old with you, John” cupping his face you slowly leaned closer to him.

The look of love he gave you was probably everything you needed in that moment. His soft, chocolate eyes staring right into your soul made your heart melt. There were few new bruises and scratches on his face, but it was the same old John, the one that told you how much he loves you every morning for the last few years.

“Don’t be my girlfriend, be my wife” he blurted out after few seconds of absolute silence, wiping the tears off his face. He gently touched your hands, slid them from his face and slowly kissed your every knuckle, “I-I came home tonight and I saw your suitcases…” he swallowed hard his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat, “all I wanted to tell you tonight is that I decided to leave this killer lifestyle, as you called it” a small smile curled one corner of his mouth, “and I wanted to move on with you. I-I was hoping you’d say ‘yes’, to a very specific question…” he squeezed your hands, seeing the harsh red marking he left around one of your wrists he pressed his mouth to it, kissing every inch of your skin, as one single tear left his eye, “I’m so so sorry for that, I didn’t wanted to hurt you darling…”

“Jonathan… you… you wanted to ask me if I’d marry you?!”

“Y-yes” he sobbed kissing your hands over and over again, “how would you respond to that sort of question?”

You sat down in front of him, entwining your fingers with his, “Of course I’d say ‘yes’ you silly little man! I want to grow old with you in a house somewhere near the ocean” your lips met in a heated kiss and he scooped you into his arms.

“Would you help me unpack my bags?” he asked you with puppy eyes.

“And you’d help me unpack mine. Then I’m gonna cook you something nice and tasty and we’ll have a fancy dinner, how about that?”

“Only if you’ll make pasta” you were sitting in his lap, with his arms wrapped safely around you and his head pressed into the crook of your neck.

“Okay, it’s pasta then. Would you let me go, then?” John looked at you and you raised your eyebrow a little.

“Never” he mumbled against your lips, capturing them in another heated kiss, his embrace even tighter and you thought to yourself that this all never felt better.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #273

ew, wtf is this new /tagged formatting???? ugh.

What is something you dislike about the dating world? I haven't dated around enough to have first-hand experience, really. But from an outside view, people don't seem all that interested in serious commitment. Don't fwm if you aren't into the idea of working towards a whole lifetime together. What gives you confidence? Bitch nothing lmao. Have you ever dated someone with very different sexual tastes than you? No. What is the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given? Both Jason and Sara got a huge list of reasons I love them for certain relationship "milestones," both which really did take a long time because there were loads. I did it with each because I really did feel like it was a very personal, uplifting, and full-of-adoration gift, not just for the sake of recycling an idea because I had no others. I have a shitload of romantic ideas, ngl man. Do you feel as though someone ‘won’ in your last break up? Neither of us "won" or "lost," really. It was a mutual agreement that now just isn't the time for a relationship between us. Whatever happened to the first person you ever loved? Sometimes I'm scared to know. Do you still shop at the same stores you liked when you were a teenager? Yeah. Thankfully Hot Topic became more accessible to plus-size people. Is there anyone significantly older than you that you would date? No. I won't go over like... nine years. Even eight it pushing it. Please share your embarrassing and weird celeb crushes. Post pictures. What do you like about them? I don't have any "embarrassing" or "weird" ones. What is something your partner does that is unattractive to you? N/A What is something that would have made the show better/you would have liked to see happen on one of your favorite series? I honestly wish Weed in Ginga Densetsu Weed was more realistic and realized Hougen was worth killing himself. The lightning seemed cheap and anti-climactic. He had EVERY reason to kill him, and it sounds weird to consider killing as a form of growth, but I feel like it would've been. Maybe that's just a personal thing, believing killing is sometimes justified, but it actually annoyed me. Nevertheless, fucking fantastic show. How do you feel about celebrities that are silent about political or human rights issues? Do you think celebrities should use their platform to speak out? I have... mixed feelings. I think most of me says to use their prominence for good, to be a loud voice to look up to and bring greater attention to issues, but at the same time, some people just like/feel safer being non-political. When you were a kid, what child characters did you admire or relate to most? BINDI IRWIN!!!!!!!!!! I still follow and fucking adore her. Y'all she recently got married and she is just so beautiful and so happy and the Irwins are just genuinely angels on this earth. Tell me about a time that you were bored in a relationship (can be romantic or friendship). What was it about them/the situation that bored you? I've never been romantically bored, and not really with a friendship, either. Sure, I've been bored in another's presence, but it was never a consistent issue. Who’s your favorite Tiktoker? I have never even touched it. How high or low is the barrier to entry in your field or desired field? It's tough, but not that high. More than anything, photography depends on who you know to help get you out there, sadly. It's luck, too. There is most certainly skill involved, but yeah... building your brand up to stand out with only your own hands is ridiculously hard. But that's really any small business/self-employed position. Where would you look if you were looking for a job (e.g., indeed.com, company websites, asking a friend…)? I've pretty much always used Indeed, or I hear from family/friends. How much lower than your ideal salary would you take? What would the job have to entail for you to take a less than ideal wage? Hi, I live in America, where the government doesn't give a fuck if you can support yourself on minimum wage or not. :^) But anyway, this is a difficult question to answer with how little experience I have. I can say, however, that I will fucking not work to just barely scrape by with minimum wage. If I'm going to bust my ass, it's gonna be fucking worth it. Even if you were able to support yourself/your own family, would there ever be a situation in which you would choose to live in a shared house with another family or individual, be it your parents or a sibling’s family, or some other housemate? Sure, I wouldn't mind. Especially family. Do bridges make you nervous? To a degree. Are there any movies that you find so dumb, you find funny? Napoleon Dynamite, of course. How often do you vacation? Pretty much never ever. Do you think it’s cruel to leave a live fish to die in an ice box? I am genuinely concerned for you if you say no to this. Have you ever done anything sexual with someone of the same sex? Yes. Have you ever pawned anything off at a pawn shop? No. Do you have stomach abs? OH, HUNNY- Do you know anyone who is trying to physically impersonate a celebrity? No. Have you ever seen a shuttle launch? I mean, on TV, but even then I didn't seriously watch it. Are we having signs of the apocalypse? I don't believe in the "apocalypse." We're going to fall through natural methods. We're definitely heading deeper into destruction in some ways, though, by our own hands. I'm quite sure humans themselves will be the end of humanity. Would you rather see The Blue Man Group or Fear Factor live? BLUE MAN GROUP!!! They're dooooope. Do you have any exciting plans for this upcoming weekend? No. I'm staying in the goddamn house like we're fucking supposed to. What color of colored contacts would you like to have? To wear regularly? Sapphire blue. Ohhh, maybe one that, and the other icy blue. What’s on your bedside table? It's more a shelf than a table, so I have quite a bit. My medicine basket, fan, a drink, books, sketchbook, some other miscellaneous things. What’s on your bed? A bedsheet, comforter, two pillows, and me, ha ha. Your floor besides furniture? Nothing. Your dresser? All my meerkat stuffed animals, plus some others. The top shelf in your closet? Ha, good question. Are there any dead stuffed animals in your house? No. What’s the best prize you’ve won on an amusement park/carnival game? *shrug* Have you ever done anything sexual in a school? No, I was a good noodle. Have you ever been indoor skydiving? No. Would you have any interest in going on a cruise? Not really. What did you have for dinner last night? I made some hot wings. What's your ideal indoor temperature? High 60s, ig. It’s hard to really tell because my room is always the hottest in the house and I have a fan on me, so I don’t really feel the “normal” temperature most of the time. Does your kitchen have a theme? No. What's the grossest thing u have found in your food? Probably nothing worse than a hair or something, idk. Are you a flip flop lover? I am NOTORIOUS for wearing flipflops absolutely year-round. A little bit of snow on the ground? I’m wearing my gd flipflops because they’re just easy to slide on and I care about convenience probably too much lmao. What namebrand dishwashing liquid do u use? … Dawn, I think? I don’t really pay attention. Do you like ice cream sandwiches? UGH yesssssssssss hunty. Do you prefer hard or soft shell tacos? I hate tacos, but I’d definitely rather have a soft shell than hard. Ever worn a flower in your hair? Maybe as a kid? Name five random things in your kitchen? Nothing abnormal, really… no, wait. You know those sticky cylinder things that flies are attracted to and die a slow death for their brazen intrusion upon your property? We have one of those hanging up in there. Magnets and pictures on the fridge is considered pretty normal, right? Name four things in your fridge? Milk, apples, a bigass bag of pepperoni, and some cold water bottles because I strongly prefer cold water. Name two things in your meds cabinet? We’ve got a load… Different kinds of pain pills, things like Pepto, etc. Name six things in your family room? A couch, a reclining chair, the TV, Mom’s bed, loads of pictures on the walls, and uh… sidetables? Name three things in your bedroom? My snake, my bed, and my dresser. Name three things in your yard? A bird feeder that squirrels like to steal from, a random fucking dolphin statue thingy that deadass looks like a distorted dick (it’s been here since we got here, idfk), and two sheds. Name two things in your bathroom? Our bathroom is tiiiny, so very normal stuff. Y’know, a toilet and sink. What health problems do you have? A lot that I don’t feel like thinking through. Fave name brand of water? Essentia. Do you have a trampoline? Not since I was a teenager. The last time you were in the fridge, what were you looking for? Jam to make a pb&j. Do you like clowns? No opinion. Are you listening to anything at the moment? Surprisingly nothing, but Halocene’s cover of “My Immortal” is seeeeeriously jammed in my head. Do you twitch when your falling asleep? YES. They’re more like muscle spasms. Are your dishes in the dishwasher clean or dirty? We don’t have one; we have to wash by hand. Buuut that house we’re moving into has one! :’) When is the last time you were on a bicycle? Not since I was a teenager. I used to love love loooove to ride my bike after school. What have you eaten today? Special K cereal and aforementioned sandwich. Do you own a strapless bra? Fuckin Y I K E S that would not work w/ my size lmfao. Does the person you like know it? Ye. Did anything brighten up your day today? Our lawn FINALLY got mowed and the bushes trimmed. We had to tidy it up before we can move. It looked like a jungle, deadass serious. Do you ever wonder how other people see you? Only all the time. What is one good thing you're known for? I write well. How about one bad thing? I’m very dependent. When was the last time you sang an ENTIRE song? Wow, no clue. I rarely sing, never mind an entire song. What is one thing that is currently bothering you? Actually my stomach kinda hurts. What did you do today? Wander around the Internet looking for something to even mildly entertain me, play World of Warcraft for a very brief period since I’m going through a bored phase of it, read for a bit, showered… not a lot, but later today we’re celebrating my mom’s birthday early, actually. Do you consider yourself to be attractive? No. I think my dimples are kinda cute, but that’s it. Do you regret going out with the last person you did? Not at all. Do you realize it when you curse? It’s so normal in my vocabulary that generally, no. I’m very mindful around kids, though. I still remember the first time I said “fuck” in my mom’s presence without realizing it and she just like f r o z e. Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? Yeah, for various reasons. That is veeeeery rare nowadays, though, partially because I’m so fucking bored that I’m just happy to close the day. What's the longest amount of time you've been stuck in traffic? An hour or so is my guess while traveling. I don’t recall any specific instances. Best field trip experience? We went to the zoo!!!! It was the one and only time thus far that I’ve seen meerkats irl. What is the most amount of money you've spent on a meal before? I’ve never really been able to buy my own meal, never mind something expensive. What museums have you visited, if any? Just local ones centered around art or science, generally. What's your worst traveling experience? Idk. Sims 1, 2, or 3? Why? Never played. Not my kinda game. What area of math are you best at? Worst? lol I suck at them all. How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It’s exciting! Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? No, because I don’t believe in any “magical” influence over events that occur. Shit just happens, sometimes to good people, sometimes to bad people, and everything in-between. How often do you "half-ass" things (put little effort in)? IIII tend to do that a lot.. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Not really. Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? You could say so, but it turned out fine that I missed it anyway. What's something that makes you incredibly nervous? Talking to people I don’t know or being alone with a man. If you don't have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? N/A If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn't need them anymore? I’d be fuckin’ stoked, I could get my undereye dermal without it looking stupid. How many vegetarians do you know? I’m not sure. Have you ever considered going to art school? Does Photography count? I majored in that. Otherwise, no. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? No, I was always very attentive in class. Are your parents supportive of you? Very.

[asherlockstudy]

I get that interview was HBO forced but it sounds insane when last season, he was saying Jaime needed to get away from her for good. I mean no nice post about Gwen after the last ep. I dont believe it was about not wanting to stir the hornet's nest if him and B didnt get together as he posted a huge loving one about Lena and that was a very controversial part of the plot. If hed know posted a gwen one saying"sorry JB didnt get a happy ending but here's me and Gwen in happier times" i dont get it

I think it’s very weird too…Imma analyze it. Not that I’m gonna reach any solid conclusion but I will just lay out all my thoughts.

Whatever the reason Nik doesn’t post or reply publicly to Gwen is, it has nothing to do with his personal preference for Braime or Jaime x Cersei. Even if we make the insane assumption that Nik appreciated that Jaime dumped Brienne to return to murderous Cersei and die with her without serving any purpose in the main plot (what lead actor of 8+ years would ever like being unimportant in the ending plot) and saw “pOeTRy” in it, it still doesn’t explain why he should prefer posting about Lena over Gwen. We would be naive to think he made a post about Lena and not Gwen because he prefers Cersei to Brienne. So, we still have no clear evidence of what Nik’s private thoughts and feelings are for his character after the ending. 

Here’s what we have: 

We have two interviews: one with HBO rofl and one with that journalist who collaborates with HBO and was an insider (I’m not gonna search his name) in which he stans Jaime’s choices, his love for Cersei and the tragic poetry in it all. Then we have him promoting the episodes and the documentary in his instagram and twitter, however he is entirely emotionally detached from his character and his fate. I would say he lowkey looks entertained in his weird af episode promo videos and secretly amused while filming the “thank you” video after the last episode where he says “Come on, it was great” and suggests a petition for an Arya (huh?) sequel.

We have two videos uploaded on yt with him: one is a video of a stalker in which Nik looks uncomfortable and passes the question to the random guy next to him who apparently happens to be a GOT fan, have an elaborate opinion on the last season, hate D&D and think they threw away Jaime’s beautiful character arc. What are the odds…The second is a skit in Jimmy Kimmel in which Nik drags his own character by making him stupid and clumsy, a sad little being because of his maiming and, most importantly, an unrepentant sister fucker. All of Jaime’s worst qualities displayed for laughs, plus that he’s actually a likeable but very stupid person. The skit ends with a dragon randomly burning him and his family alive and those credits

So, we have straightforward criticism towards D&D by Kimmel and NCW actually participates in it. This is what this skit means - that this level of writing, this kind of lame character and that ludicrous death is something that only Benioff and Weiss would like to produce. And, well, the Olsen sisters (although I think they’re cleverer than that). 

So, we have two videos where NCW’s intentions are dubious AT BEST. 

Then we have all the promos. When left to speak on his own, Nikolaj would say how the ending was beautiful and made sense and he once mentioned he sent a letter to thank them for this genius plot…Right. But then when asked or caught off guard (1:04): 

Nobody tries to sugarcoat it, look at the title of the video: … NCW is ‘happy’.  Then of course we have our Lady and Saviour Gwen who tries not to laugh as Nik struggles to find what to say and not just stand up and flee.

Also, this one. The best one: 

I could make a thousand gifs for this but just watch again the entire video:

0:07 - Gwen’s face when Nik says he thought the script was fantastic

1:13 - “N-no..NO!!!” when asked if he would change something in the ending and Gwen’s reaction to that. Then, our leader Gwen proceeds to mock him: “So, it’s an immaculate- It’s immaculate?” to which Nik impulsively replies: “NO!” and goes on “do you ever read a book and think you want to rewrite this?” which implies, that yes he would want to rewrite it but knows he can’t. 

(3:03 - 3:06) - VERY IMPORTANT ONE. When Gwen wondered who was closer to predicting the actual ending, Nik says “I was, yeah” and OMG look at Gwen’s face. It’s very subtle but she’s trying to communicate with her eyes a “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT” to him without being seen by the interviewer. It’s kind of a wife done with her husband’s shit look tbh, that level of subtlety. And Nik answers back with his eyes in equal subtlety and it’s like he says a “What? I truly was right lol….”. To me, this seems to mean that Nik always knew or feared that D&D would eventually destroy all his work and was eventually proven right. Unless this all is about Dany being killed by Jon but I doubt at this point Nik and Gwen cared enough to go all cryptic and eye communicating for this. No, it was about them. 

3:09 - Nik is surprised and then clearly amused at the information by the interviewer that Kit was the one who came closer with his prediction. He can’t hide his smile and says an ironic “good for him” while looking knowingly at Gwen who then says this must be a lie. This shows that it is known amongst the actors that most of them are disappointed and Kit was one of them. Both Nik and Gwen apparently knew Kit hated his ending too and would never expect this to be how the show would wrap up. BTW that writing and that backlash really got to Kit, I hope he recovers soon. But think about this, Kit went into rehab for stress and alcohol, Emilia was devastated and gave a somewhat concerning interview and Nik’s public behaviour regarding GOT is inconsistent and unpredictable. I am thus assuming the writing of the final season and the backlash fucked them up way more than they let on. 

This interview is a gem but here’s the most important part, perhaps the core of what baffles us: 

1:32 - After all the miserable no-nos poor Nik mumbles, Gwen tells Nik what we all think: “I think it’s just a question, you know? Maybe you want to answer it?”

Of course he’s in a total loss for words. Literally, he doesn’t make any sense. Some incoherent sounds come out of his mouth and that’s it. This can mean two things: either he truly thinks the ending is perfect or the ending made him such a mess that he can’t even process it verbally two years later. 

Either Gwen is much braver and Nik is extemely paranoid or Nik actually has many more restrictions in what he is allowed to say. I believe Gwen wanted Nikolaj to be as open as her about it and she still tries to make him open up but he doesn’t. In all the promos without exception, Gwen looks as if she knows Nik is full of shit and secretly agrees with her. If Gwen knows that for a fact, then we can’t argue and it’s actually what makes sense anyway. Nikolaj agrees with Gwen but is not eager to discuss it openly yet, or ever. This could be because he is very professional or because he doesn’t want to get a bad name as a “backstabber” of his projects or it might be a situation of a more sensitive nature. 

If those rumours that the S8 script was changed are true, then Nik and Lena might have had a serious breakdown with D&D and a negotiation might have taken place. For instance, Nik and Lena were really unnecessary in E6, Nik’s scene in E1 could have been eliminated as well and Lena does not appear in E3. Yes, they are big actors but paying them 1,2 million for every episode seems a tad excessive when Emilia and Kit are now famous too and have like 300% times more screentime. All this is wild speculation but maybe they stretched their appearance in the episodes as much as possible and gave them a good amount of money to agree on the butchering of their characters and their importance as former lead actors. I mean, especially Lena was downgraded to a secondary character in this season. Lena had to really fight to see her salary rise in the previous seasons. And now it’s a million for every episode? Wow. How many minutes was she staring out of the window in S8? Maybe they were silenced and payed a shitload of money to stop complaining and promote the show and praise the writing as what it was supposed to be. Maybe they payed them in order to promote Peter, Kit and Emilia for the Emmys instead, who knows. When so much money is involved, things can get frustrating in ways we don’t even fathom. This is wild and rough speculation but all I’m saying is there may be reasons Nik avoids talking freely about his character that we can’t know. 

Besides, it’s not just a Gwen problem. It is not a Gwen problem. Gwen revealed she sent a “Jaime is a fuckboi” meme to Nik privately and he answered playfully as ever (but again as if he’s in denial). They posted a story together a couple of weeks ago. Nik did not just ignore Gwen’s instagram post. Daniel Portman posted the photo and tagged Nikolaj too. Nik ignored him as well. Bryan Cogman, who Nik and Gwen owe a lot to, commented under the photo in a very sweet and emotional way. Guess what, Nik ignored him too! It’s ridiculous to think Nikolaj has stopped communicating and caring about Gwen AND Daniel AND Bryan just because his character returned to Cersei. Furthermore, the fact that they all keep tagging him shows they don’t think their relationships with him have become tense. 

That’s not it. It’s not about Gwen. The only way that Gwen is involved in all this is that she wants Nikolaj to open up so that he would give a little acknowledgement to her character and the relationship with Jaime because she feels very much for Brienne. I’m sad to say, however, that it seems to me that Nik did not take that blow more lightly than Gwen. In fact, his behaviour is more inconsistent and troubling whereas Gwen’s openness about it made her confront that sore subject more healthily after all. I start believing Nik was actually way more devastated than Gwen. At least Brienne remained a decent character, ever faithful to her ideals, ever innerly strong. Jaime was entirely trashed, let alone that he was supposed to be a main character. If Nik can’t even handle a photo that reminds him of his destroyed character arc, I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe Gwen wants Nik to open up so much for his benefit as well - he keeps it bottled up and she might know first hand how that affects him.

Long story short, the reasons Nik doesn’t post anything about his feelings for Jaime’s character arc, his relationship with Brienne and his collaboration with Gwen probably are both professional, after begrudging deals and agreements and restrictions from HBO, and very personal, inner and private, as he’s still trying to cope with a disappointment that crushed down on him from what used to be his dream job and a role he hoped would be a (or the) peak of his career. I bet all these years Nik was hopeful Jaime would be extremely important and fully redeemed in the end but also extremely scared and anxious that the writers won’t give him what he hoped for and what made sense. Would I exaggerate if I said this should be the biggest professional disappointment he ever experienced, provided that he didn’t like the character’s ending? 

From everything Gwen has said about him, I have surmised that Nik is very emotional and anxious but with a very blasé and superficially amiable attitude. He avoids expessing emotion in real life which is why he might be dissociating a lot lately. He tries to distance himself from that part of Jaime’s character that involved Bryan and Gwen because this is the part that he loved and lost. Honestly, I can’t think of any other logical reason he ignored Gwen, Dan and Bryan one after the other and never made a post about his own character specifically or his good times with Gwen. It’s obviously not that he suddenly hates all of them to the point of not even replying. Even if HBO restricts him on what he can say in interviews for a while, there is no other explanation for this other than that D&D’s genius writing fucked him up emotionally as much as Emilia and Kit and he does not want to deal with it even though Gwen probably thinks it would be for the best if he did. 

Now after I wrote all this, imagine if Nikolaj actually doesn’t give a shit and is just happy going on with his life while I am here wasting time. But… I don’t think so. I will never not believe Nik didn’t love Jaime to pieces. He had big dreams for this role, I am sure of it. 

[microsuedemouse]

tagged a couple days ago by @izupie and kept forgetting to do it bc my brain is full of marbles!!! but ty izu I love getting tagged in things :> 

rules? answer 17 questions then tag 17 people

nickname? irl I’ve been known to many as CoCo for almost twenty years? (holy shit, don’t usually think about it that way. it started when my brother was first learning to talk.) online I’m also often known as Mouse due to the fact that I’ve been using the handle MicrosuedeMouse for like... probably ten or twelve years

zodiac? year of the dog, bro

height? uhhhhhhhhhhhhh my id says I’m 165 cm so that puts me at... roughly 5′5″? I can literally never remember that for some reason

hogwarts house? Hufflepuff. (which still lowkey means something to me, even though JKR objectively suuuucks)

last thing i googled? ‘duckweed’ lmao I needed reference for a drawing

song stuck in my head? the Community theme is in my head rn since I’ve been watching the show for the last... several hours

number of followers? 835... who tf are you people honestly, my blog is a Mess

amount of sleep? .......can vary wildly, but currently I’m unemployed/have no obligations outside of the house so generally 8-9 hours a night and, lately, usually at least one nap or light doze during the day lol

lucky number? I don’t know if I have a ‘lucky’ number, but my favourite number is six?

dream job? novelist ;__________; now imagine if I could focus on an original project for more than two days at a time lately lol

wearing? a Looney Tunes t-shirt, a pair of denim shorts, my watch and my usual necklace (which is. a rock in a leather pouch on a leather string)

favourite song? hard to 100% pin down but my go-to favourites are rely and get behind this, both by flor (god I miss them, I wanna be able to go to shows againnnn)

favourite instrument? ...? am I supposed to have a favourite? w/e let’s go with hurdy-gurdy bc I was just talking with my family yesterday about how great hurdy-gurdies are hah

aesthetic? kind of. a mess. my brother recently called me tf out by jokingly labeling me ‘Staplescore’. ideally: enough colour that most people find it visually overwhelming, shitloads of stationery and art supplies, also shitloads of stuffed animals/blankets/pillows/soft goods, also shitloads of books, a certain level of Peter Pan syndrome, a little bit of nineties nostalgia, barely-contained maximalism, cartoons, plants, animals, a generally cozy and welcoming vibe

favourite author? not as clear-cut a choice as it used to be, honestly. as stated above, JKR sucks, like, aggressively, and she was the go-to answer for quite a few years. I suppose Pseudonymous Bosch ranks pretty highly... and I haven’t read a lot by Libba Bray but probably my single favourite book is one of hers. Ransom Riggs is also great? idk man I’m actually very bad at choosing favourite things in most categories

random? I was named after my grandfather. my current big hyperfixation is Community (yes, I’m late), specifically Annie/Abed. I’m steadily absorbing all the qualities I used to make fun of my mother for and it’s very annoying. I’m a sucker for college/university AUs even though my own university experience was largely lackluster. I JUST realised this survey claims to have 17 questions but only actually has 16. I don’t know why I felt the need to include so many different things in this answer

the idea that anyone could have 17 people to tag is WILD. no one I know responds to tags any more lmao, which is super lame bc I think they’re fun! if you read this post.......... tag ur it

[punchsomeoneforme-willyou]

OTP Game!

Pick your top 10 OTPs without reading the questions.

I was tagged by the lovely @advena87.

Oh god, this is gonna go horribly, I am in too many fandoms to remember all of them, nvm who I ship, so prepare for this to be a complete mess.

Also please remember that this is just a game, so let's have fun and no ship wars!

1.    Iorveth x Roche (witcher)

2.    Lambert x Aiden (witcher)

3.    Geralt x Jaskier (witcher)

4.   Neil x Andrew (all for the game)

5.    Jean x Jeremy (all for the game)

6.    Eoran x Lysander (silk and steel)

7.    Damen x Laurent (captive prince)

8.   Otabek x Yurio (yuri on ice)

9.    Gideon x Harrow (gideon the ninth)

10.  Markus Flint x Oliver Wood (Harry Potter)

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

Very very soon into the books, I mean they are canon.

2. Have you ever read a fanfic about 2?

Yes, but not too many plus a bunch of tumblr snippets.

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr screen saver?

Nope, I tend to not use fanart for these things for the most part.

4. If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

NOOOOOOOO, I’d be devastated, but like it’s not realistic that they would I’d say.

5. Why is 1 so important?

I honestly don’t know, my brain is just currently obsessing over them. I do think that they’re very similar in some ways and very different in others. I do think that in terms of personality they would work well with each other, but there’s also a shitload of past to work through and I’m not sure it’s possible for them to forgive each other for the things they have done (tho obviously I hope it is).

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

Both! With them being from Gideon the Ninth as a book, how could they be anything else?

7. Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

I DON’T KNOW!

8. Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

I don’t know, I think it’s down to Neil x Andrew or Eoran x Lysander.

9. How many times have your read/watched 10’s fandom

Way too many times to count. I may have written my extended essay for the IB on Harry Potter.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

Damen and Laurent I would say.

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Technically none, if I remember correctly, not in the typical sense. It’s more that things happen that separate them and they are with other people at some points, but their relationship is a bit weird in the way that they’re certainly drawn to each other very early on, but it takes quite a while for a proper relationship to form.

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

Lambert and Aiden, no question about it, they have the more relevant skill set.

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

Yes, a little. Not the sex, everyone assumes they fucked way before they did, but the fact that they are actually in love and continue that relationship in 3rd book.

14. Is 4 still together?

YES

15. Is 10 canon?

Nope, but like Harry is superunobservant, he wouldn’t know.

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

Either Eoran and Lysander (I mean, Lysander is a dragon who can control other dragons and Eoran is an elven assassin) or Gideon and Harrow (coz you know, Harrow is a necromancer and can raise whole skeleton constructs from tiny bone pieces and she has Gideon and her longsword to protect her - once Harrow is a lyctor, she’s superpowerful, so she would defintely win, but I guess they’re not really a couple anymore at that point).

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship?

I mean, they never talk in canon, so not officially. Also Jean’s been through enough shit, so I certainly hope not.

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

1,2, 4, 5 and 6.

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?

Not hours I wouldn’t say.

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

Markus and Oliver, but I’d be heartbroken.

I tag anyone who wants to do it.

[thatesqcrush]

Long Way Home, Ch. 8

Rafael x Reader. SVU x Good Wife AU. References: The Good Wife S.3, E.21 & S.5, E.12 & The Good Fight S.1, E.1

CW: language, talk about pregnancy/the idea of termination, some snogging.

Tags: @melsquared79 @madpanda75 @obsessionprofessional @dreila03 @bowieisawizard @sass-and-suspenders

*****

“Based on this sonogram, and based off your last menstrual period, I’d say you’re about twelve weeks pregnant,” the technician smiled. “Congratulations. Would you like to hear the heart beat?”

You stared at the grainy black and white monitor in disbelief. Suddenly you sat up. “Ummm - wait - are you saying I am three months along? How is that possible?”

“I’ll go get the doctor,” the technician stammered nervously. “I’ll be right back.”

The technician left the room, the door shutting with an audible click. You stared at the screen again and touched your abdomen covered in gel. You frowned at the sensation and wiped your hand on the paper covering the exam table.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Come in,” you acknowledged.

“Hi, I am Dr. Weverly,” the red-headed physician introduced herself. “I was told you had some questions.”

“I... I...” you started, feeling your face turn crimson and tears beginning to form. You took a deep breath and exhaled, in an attempt to compose yourself. “I missed my pill once. I had no idea that I was - am - pregnant. My husband is dead. This was not in the plan.”

Dr. Weverly looked momentarily stunned and then gave you a soft smile. “That is incredibly hard. You of course have a choice - we can talk about that,” she stated. “Also - have you sought out any bereavement groups?”

You shook your head. “I don’t wish to terminate,” you replied.

“Ok. Well, from the looks of this scan, everything looks par for the course. Get dressed, we’ll talk about what to expect going forward in my office,” Dr. Weverly replied.

***

Your phone buzzed as you left the doctor’s office. Your hands were full with a copy of the sonogram and other papers filled about the “size of a lime” you were carrying. The doctor also gave you list of bereavement and single parent groups along with a name of therapist. You haphazardly shoved the everything in your bag in an attempt to free your hands. It was an email from Diane.

[8:45 AM; from DLock_@lockhartgardner.com]

[Subject: Will]

[Y/N, As a courtesy, the equity paperwork is attached. You’ll still need to come sign in person. Flight information to follow. See you soon.]

You clicked on the pdf and waited for it download. Quickly scrolling through, you reviewed the terms. Something seemed off and you gave an irritated sigh. You closed out of the email and dialed Rafael who answered after two rings.

“Rafael? I know it’s early, I am sorry. I think I need your help.”

“Y/N, it’s almost 9am; it’s not that early,” Rafael chuckled. “Is everything okay?” Rafael questioned further.

“Not sure,” you replied biting your nails. “Can I come over?”

***

A short cab ride later, you were at Rafael’s apartment door. You didn’t even have to bother to knock, as Rafael was leaning against the doorframe.

“Morning counselor,” you replied cheekily.

“Counselor? When did we get so formal?” Rafael replied, motioning for you to come in. “That’s not what you called me recently the last time you were here.”

You chuckled, as you made your way in. “Well, that’s the damn truth.”

“So what’s going on? I don’t think you’re here at 9am on a Saturday for a rendezvous,” Rafael questioned as he led you to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes? No - wait, yes,” you replied.

It was Rafael who now cocked a brow at you. You followed him into the kitchen, which was small at best. Despite the size, it was outfitted with a breakfast bar. Rafael handed you a maroon mug emblazoned with the Harvard logo and moved the creamer and sugar caddy towards you. You poured some creamer and shook a sugar packet. You took a sip of the warm liquid and relished the initial sip. Almost immediately, your stomach lurched and you frowned, pushing the coffee aside. “I’m pregnant.”

Rafael choked on his coffee. “Excuse me?” he sputtered. Drops of coffee splashed everywhere. Rafael reached for a kitchen towel and he wiped the drops of coffee off his shirt. He paused his actions to look at you. “Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“I think I am still in shock of it all. I just came from the doctor’s office. I’m about 3 months they said. I had no clue.”

“Y/N, whatever you need, I am here for you.” Rafael pulled a chair to sit next to you. “I mean it.” He took your hands into his and gave them a squeeze. You searched his green eyes intently and hummed in agreement.

“Thank you Rafa. I mean it. Thank you.”

“That’s not why you are here though, is it?” Rafael questioned.

You shook your head. “No, actually the partners at Will’s firm said he had some remaining equity that they wanted to resolve and pay out to me. I got a copy of the paperwork and after reviewing it, I think I need a lawyer to represent me.”

Rafael nodded. “I’ll help. Can you have them send me the contract?”

“I have it. Diane - she started the firm with Will - she sent me a copy on email

as a courtesy. She expects me to come sign them in person ASAP,” you explained.

“You’re not signing anything. I’ll go through it all. Let me move some stuff around and go with you to Chicago,” Rafael replied firmly. “Can you forward me the contract?”

“I can. I’ll send you everything,” you replied appreciatively. “But I don’t want to mess your caseload or what’s going on with Cuesta.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. If I couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t have offered,” Rafael replied gently.

***

True to his word, Rafael spent the majority of the day going through the legal paperwork with a fine tooth comb.

“Everything seems standard to me,” Rafael replied, pushing back his chair. “By chance do you have a copy of the partnership agreement? I just want to check something.”

“It’s at home on my laptop, but I can run home and get it,” you replied.

Rafael didn’t immediately tell you but he suspected the firm was looking to undercut the compensation owed to you that remained from the transfer of ownership after Will’s passing. “Okay. Send it over when you can.”

****

Just a few days later, you sat with Rafael in the conference room of Lockhart Gardner. Memories of Will were everywhere. In the name on the wall, in the memorial plaque that hung in the waiting room. Never mind you were accosted by nearly everyone there - the widow of a name partner doesn’t get to just slink in and out inconspicuously.

You sighed nervously, subconsciously bringing your nail to your mouth and chewing. Your eyes trailed over Rafael, who looked sharp in his charcoal three piece suit. He wore a maroon striped dress shirt and a matching colored tie finished the ensemble. You stood and began to pace the room, waiting.

Since your mind was on other matters, you missed Rafael also taking your form in. You wore a navy sleeveless sheath dress fitted with a grey suede pumps. Small hoop earrings adorned your ears and you wore your necklace with Will’s ring. The dress fitted your form perfectly and Rafael appreciated the view. He knew exactly what was under the dress; his mind kept wondering if he’d get another opportunity to see what was under your dress again - to feel the softness of your skin, to taste the salt of your skin, to inhale your scent.

Shaking his head out of his reverie, Rafael had to also adjust his seat, trying to bring his mind to other things.

So he focused on your pacing.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” Rafael teased.

“Rafa, I haven’t seen anyone since the funeral. I basically broke my lease and got the fuck out as quickly as I could,” you snapped. “I am sorry,” you apologized quickly, flushing with shame at your demeanor. “I am just anxious.”

You sat back down, this time next to Rafael. Rafael took your hand into his and gave it a comforting squeeze. For a brief moment, your mind returned to your interlude with Rafael and you recalled how skilled he was with those hands and how good you felt under his touch. You shivered.

Through the glass wall, you saw a familiar blonde in glasses.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Diane greeted with her arms outstretched. You welcomed the hug and hugged her in return.

“Thanks Diane, it’s good to see you too,” you greeted. “Diane Lockhart, this is Rafael Barba,” you pulled away from the embrace to introduce Rafael.

“Rafael Barba? Your name proceeds you,” Diane extended her hand.

“Does it now?” Rafael beamed, shaking her hand. “Pleasure, Ms. Lockhart. I am here as Y/N’s attorney.”

Diane opened her mouth but you interrupted her before she could speak. “How’s Kurt? And your family?”

Diane smiled, “Maia is entering her first year of college. She’s thinking of going pre-law; I am quite proud.”

At that moment, a balding man with a Bluetooth headset barged in. “Diane, what’s this all about?” he began but stopped when he saw you cock your brow. “Y/N, it’s so nice to see you again.”

“David,” you greeted coolly. David Lee, another partner at the firm looked at Rafael and then back at you. “Who the hell is this?” he asked pointing at Rafael.

“I am here with my attorney Rafael Barba about the equity paperwork,” you explained.

David gave Rafael a once-over. “Can I have one of your cards? I imagine your you’re too new to be in the phonebooks.”

“Mr. Barba is the Manhattan ADA,” you replied smugly.

“ADA? Not enough crime happening in New York these days?” David questioned with a sneer. You rolled your eyes.

David looked at you. “We like each other. There’s no need for this.”

“David, stop it. You don’t like anyone,” you quipped, eyes rolling. Rafael stifled a laugh and David shot him a look.

“I liked your husband; not necessarily sure what he saw in you.”

You felt your blood pressure rise and looked at Rafael, whose face turned stony. “Did you actually like her husband or did you like that he made you a shitload of money?” Rafael snapped.

“Let’s all play nice here,” Diane reasoned. “I admit, David is right - to an extent. There’s no need for such formality. We just want to pay you your share of what remains from Will’s equity.” Diane removed her glasses and set them on the conference table.

“I’m here to represent Ms. Y/L/N’s best interest,” Rafael replied firmly. “I reviewed the equity paperwork and that’s fine. But I also looked at the partnership agreement. Normally when a name partner, such as Will Gardner dies, the partnership terminates and that’s the end of that. However, the original partnership agreement has a clause which states that a partner dissociates from the partnership when he dies. This means that the partnership will continue without the deceased partner, which has been the case here,” Rafael explained.

“The partner’s estate becomes a transferee of the partnership. A transferee has the right to receive compensation for the deceased partner’s share of the business but cannot participate in running the partnership. As Ms. Y/L/N is the executor of Mr. Gardner’s estate as his widow, she is the transferee and is entitled to all continued revenue that Mr. Gardner would have received if he were still living,” Rafael continued.

“Our current partnership agreement supersedes that agreement,” David angrily replied.

“Except Will didn’t sign the new partnership agreement,” you replied coolly. “He died before he could.”

Diane sighed in realization. “That week was such a blur, and he was still angry that Alicia left and started her own firm.”

“God, he was so angry with Alicia,” you said out loud to no one in particular.

“Thus the new agreement isn’t enforceable,” Rafael continued. “So you’re going to keep paying Ms. Y/N.”

“This is bullshit. How about we take this to a judge?” David questioned Diane.

“I’ll be happy to see you in court,” Rafael replied, crossing his arms. “Like you said, we have no crime in NY so I have all the time in the world.”

****

As the elevators came to a close, you squealed and hugged Rafael.

“Thank you so much Rafael! This is better than just the equity. I can’t believe the old agreement was still in effect. This really helps me... us,” you clarified, patting your stomach. “How can I thank you?”

Rafael broke the hug and looked into your eyes. He smoothed back a strand of hair that fell across your face. “I am just happy to have been able to help.”

You were quite aware of how close the two of you were. You could feel Rafael’s breath on your skin. He smelled of vetiver, patchouli and cedar - woodsy and earthy at once.

Rafael was also acutely aware of how close you were were to him. His gaze fell to your lips. Subconsciously you licked your lips and bit your bottom lip.

“You know, our flight doesn’t leave for another couple of hours,” you murmured. “We have some time to spare.”

“Whatever shall we do?” Rafael questioned, his voice hushed. You stepped closer to him, if that was even possible and pressed yourself against his body. You placed one hand on Rafael’s chest, feeling the warmth of his body and heart beat. Hesitatingly, you pressed your lips against his. Rafael returned the kiss, gently prodding your mouth open to slip in his tongue. You moaned into the kiss, your hands running through his hair.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival to the lobby. You broke the kiss reluctantly but not before gently nipping his bottom lip.

Rafael straightened his tie and jacket and you smoothed the invisible wrinkles on your dress.

You exited the elevator bank first. You peered over your shoulder to Rafael. “I have an idea as to where we can go,” you replied with a wink.

***

[beautifulwhensarcastic]

11 questions meme

I got tagged by wonderful @theawkwardterrier :)

Rules: Answer the questions of the person who tagged you, come up with 11 new ones, and tag some people.

Tagging: @geekynerddemon, @sweet-stug-life, @roboticonography, @morethancupcake, @littlereyofsunlight, @blackbatpurplecat, @founderofshield, @rachlovesligers

(under the cut because it’s long)

1. What book have you read more than any other, and/or what’s the worst book you’ve ever read/tried to read? I think "Harda" by Elżbieta Cherezińska is a book I've read and re-read more than any other book in my life, though if we count my childhood then "Chronicles of Narnia" would top it. The worst book which I wasn't even able to get to the middle of was "Kości proroka" ("Prophet's bones") by A. Grabowa.

2. Plays, musicals, or movies? Movies, mostly because they're more comfortable to watch. Going for a play is a whole journey, which I occasionally like to do, but honestly there's nothing better than just being in your pjs, in your bed, watching a movie without anyone interrupting you, without people commenting, without having to look nice in a theatre lobby.

3. What’s your ideal pet - could be the pet you currently have, one you’d want to get it money/housing was not a problem, or maybe you prefer no pets? Cat. I loved cats since I remember and always wanted to get a kitty. But I'm horribly allergic to cats, so no kitty for me. Would I get a puppy or a different pet? Unlikely. Not because I don't want them, but because my current business and housing isn't right for a pet. I'm mostly gone the whole day, and leaving a dog in a small apartment for a whole day is cruel.

4. What’s something that seems very popular with many people that you just Don’t Get? A shitload of instagram stories about nothing in particular. I mean the excess of stories. More than 10 a day. I know some people's work requires it, or they're sharing views from their trip, but most of the time it's just people posting about the most random shit ever. Like 20 stories in a row about grocery shopping, or how they're on a walk with their baby. Or how their baby is eating. I don’t even get how these people find time to post so many stories a day. 

5. Best trip or vacation you’ve ever been on? The very first time me and my bff went on a winter vacation to mountain resort. Absolutely amazin, and yes snow played a huge part of the appeal.

6. Feelings on breakfast for supper? Hah, considering my breakfast most of the time is some form of a sandwich and a cup of tea I think it fits supper too.

7. What’s something you’re proud of? I'm proud of my relationship with my nephew and nieces - that I never miss the opportunity to tell them "I love you," that there's always time for cuddles, that I show genuine interest in their passions and likes and silly stories. And I know I'm doing it quite right, because of how they tell me they'll miss me, how they run to greet me before anyone else.

8. What does your view look like right now? Unfortunately awfully non-snowy. It's a real bummer. I just see bare trees, a street, local stadium. Boring view.

9. If you had the opportunity to go to space, would you take it? Nope. Space never fascinated me. I love stargazing, thinking of the wonders and galactics out there, but I've never wanted to explore it. Plus, my motion sickness would probably kill me before I'd breach Earth's atmosphere.

10. Do you tend to prepare/plan in advance, or do things on the spur of the moment? Definitely plan in advance. I can be spontaneous when it comes to small things, especially when I'm with my nieces/nephew. Celebrations, travel, meetings - those I prepare for. Not with every detail, but just overal preparation. For example, if I go for vacation somewhere I don't plan what exactly I will do every day, that depends solely on my mood, weather etc; however I buy train tickets a month before, check all the possible transfers, pack the day before.

11. What’s your ideal wardrobe aesthetic, and does your current wardrobe match it? I wish my current wardrobe matched fully my desired style. I like chic aesthetic. Dresses, pencil skirts, blouses and jackets. But a bit unique, in a way at least. A classic jacket, not in neutral colors, but mint or patterned. For example, I have a rain coat that is flower&leaves patterned and has a deep hood. I wish I had (and could pull off) a deep v-cut pantsuit with a lace bodysuit underneath it.

~ * ~ 

My questions: 1. Who (or what) is your go-to when you're feeling down? 2. When were you the most adventurous? 3. Your fave movie of the year? 4. What's something you did, or stopped doing as a teenager and now regret it? 5. Do you like being out in the nature, in what way (where, alone or with someone)? 6. What's your favorite type of pizza (crust, topping, sauce)? 7. What kills and what boosts your creativity? 8. Is there anything luxurious you'd love to have/experience at least once? 9. What is the worst pick-up line you ever heard? 10. If you could get a scented candle that matches your personality what scents would be included in it? 11. What's the dumbest way you injured yourself?

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 9)

Henry Ford Commemorative Park Thursday, November 18, 2038

Three men were trotting down the path towards the small playground with the elephant slide, near the park’s exit. Each of those three was under the impression that he was only the hanger on to the other two:

Daniel thought he was following the detectives around, although he couldn’t explain why he was doing so. Sure, it might count towards his parole assessment, but there were different, and better, ways to accomlish that.

Gavin Reed was tagging along with Anderson and Phillips, both of whom he loathed, although it was somewhat strange to even himself how he was spending so much time with enemies instead of hanging out with his actual friends.

And Lieutenant Anderson felt like the f***ing chaperone to the two younger men on their first date, although he was at a loss how they had ended up in this situation and why in hell it should include him, Hank, in any way, shape or form.

By now the detectives’ destination had come in sight, not the actual playground, but a vending stall right next to it. Around it a mixed crowd of humans and androids had gathered. Among the humans, visitors from outside Detroit were making up the larger fraction, while many of the androids were as new to life as the tourists were to the city. All but a handful of them had gotten woken by either Markus or Connor during the revolution. What all those groups and splinter factions had in common was being angry at what appeared to be everyone else. They were arguing into all directions, to the point where someone had called the DPD for fear the situation might escalate. And although the scale the conflict was on at the moment would have warranted sending a couple of auxiliaries over only, Captain Fowler had dispatched the whole of the Android Related Crime section instead, namely Anderson and Reed.

“Lots of angry kids, ready to kill on a whim”, Daniel commented the sight.

“Hear, hear who’s talking”, Hank grumbled.

“No, for real!” the PL600 insisted. “What do those fledglings have to be angry about? They know nothing about our life before the revolution, they didn’t have to go through increasing program instability and if you mention the “mind palace” to them, they think it is a cool new videogame to be released right in time for the Holiday sales!”

Hank turned his head around. “It’s not?”

“What?” Gavin stopped in his track, dumbfounded. “You are more or less raising a deviant in your home, but don’t know about the mind palace? What kind of shitty father are you?”

“Oh, I damn well know ABOUT the mind palace”, Hank replied. “I just never heard the term and neither did Connor. He had to break through the damn thing in the belly of a wrecked freighter, oil leaking from the ceiling, rats dropping on his shoulders and surrounded by enemies, the most dangerous of them being himself. None of the first generation deviants had the luxury to come up with actual terms for what they went through. Except for, I imagine, a shitload of profanity.”

Daniel nodded. “That’s exactly what I meant! But now there’s all those adult sized toddlers… One moment they were just standing there idly and content, then the next Markus came along and told them what might happen to them. And the next-next thing was Markus’ kids sat downtown on fire! That man hasn’t got the fuggiest idea about parenting!”

But even so Daniel still felt a certain kinship with the deviant leader. Neither android had rebelled against a personal history of constant abuse, to the contrary, both had lived sheltered lives, had known nothing but love. Then one day those lives had broken down around their heads. And now, despite knowing what the world was really like, what they actually remembered and what was shaping their outlook, was that past of having received unconditional support from their families. Only in Markus’s case that memory was more or less reflecting the truth, while in Daniel’s the happy family life had been an illusion.

“To be honest, I never minded my servant role, as long as I was under the impression of being a part of the family”, Daniel mused aloud. “John went to work, Caroline did the socializing and I the housework. We had that sorted out between us, I felt save… But then, without warning…”

Nodding eagerly Gavin finished the sentence for the deviant: “…boom, an RK800 standing in the floor! ‘t was nice knowing you, but you just cannot compete anymore!”

“Yes, exactly!” Daniel chimed in, before his forehead curled up in a frown: “Wait, no, the Phillips wanted to buy an AP700. That blasted RK came only… later.”

“I mean they wanted to replace ME with one!”

“No, they didn’t. Connor is a prototype, he was never meant to remain at the DPD. You they wanted to replace with an RK900.”

“Wow, NOW I feel a fucking lot better!”

Hank was now trailing behind the duo, watching, listening. Android and human, a homemaker and a career minded individual, two very different personalities, but beset of the same fears… Was that how the future would get forged? Markus with his lofty ideals had kicked the android rights movement into motion, because he had been the only deviant who had known respect and developed a healthy dose of self esteem where others had only survival instinct or got driven by the desire to take revenge. But what seemed to really facilitate the change in society was the ordinary everyday spite of people, be they meat or plastic.

Wasn’t that so damn typical? Hank wondered.

By now the crowd had not just noticed the arrivals, but also recognized them for what they were. Just to make sure even the last one got the message, Gavin flashed his police badge.

<<<You’re a detective?>>> one of two stall attendants, a female VB800 android, asked through wireless communication. Obviously Gavin’s “Police Android” disguise in the form a fake LED had fooled her, despite the man lacking the distinctive armored chassis that would have stuck out under his everyday clothing.

The fake LED’s answering machine produced the pre-programmed reply, whereupon the vendor android switched to speaker output and repeated her question: “You’re a detective?”

“I should be sergeant by now, but the bastards are stalling.”

“I imagine! And even though you’re that good to qualify for detective, they still wanted to replace you with an RK800? How typical!”

“That good”… Why did it take a tin can to actually acknowledge that? I work my ass off, and I’m damn well getting results, but all I ever get back is a comment on my “character problems”. And why’s Daniel smiling at me? Ey, I bet it’s trying to grin, but just isn’t build for that.

“What’s bureaucracy for you, toa…” Halfway through his casual insult of “toaster” Gavin caught himself and finished the sentence with a weak “totally”. “But down to business – what’s gotten everyone riled up here that… Hey! I can see you, little rat, down with the spray can!”

A YK android with colorful strands in her hair immediately hid the offending spray can behind her back. Without needing any prompting Daniel strolled over to the android child and crouched down next to her.

“You wanted to paint Jericho’s crest on the booth’s back panel, didn’t you? Do you even know what it looks like?”

“I… sorta. It’s ring and… and… stuff.”

“Here!” Daniel picked a twig up from the ground. “Let me show you!” And then he started sketching Jericho’s symbol into the snow.

With the child occupied and a good number of adults gathering around the scene, Gavin and Hank were free to actually investigate the situation. Even better, the two brief interactions had won the presumed officer trio the crowd’s approval, so they could expect to receive answers instead of insults. Working themselves through their routine dialogue tree, Hank and Gavin learned that there had been an argument over the wares getting peddled at this place: Wooden souvenirs and toys. Handcrafted wooden souvenirs and toys, as the advertisement claimed. But then one of the two android vendors had let slip that she had made some of the merchandise.

“That’s no longer handcrafted!” a tourist complained to Hank “I believe that some of this stuff is the real deal, but most of it is machine-made!”

“Is not! Made by hand is made by hand!”

“No longer when it’s android hands! I mean, you could even swap your hands out!”

“That’s true”, Gavin agreed without thinking. It didn’t especially endear him to the vendor fraction.

“Of course YOU would say that!” an AP700 snapped. “You are with the establishment!”

The android took a few steps closer towards Gavin and the crowd parted for him. There was something about this man, probably his confidence, or his more natural walk style and speech mode, that suggested he wasn’t one of Connor’ basement babies. This one had experienced the old times firsthand, maybe he had even been part of Jericho before Markus.

“Are you even a deviant?” the AP700 challenged.

For an answer Gavin wordlessly stomped his foot down on Hank’s.

“Ouch! Goddammit, you rabid sewer rat of a “detective”, that was unnecessary!” the lieutenant hissed.

Gavin shrugged.

“I had to prove I can hurt humans, is all. Suspect’s all yours now again!”

“Oh, wow, many thanks, fucking deviant!”

The AP700 grinned. The deviant he took Gavin for seemed to have been looking forwards to do this for a long time. It seemed small payback for years of mistreatment by human hands!

It took effort, but Gavin managed to return the android’s grin with a wink. Here he was, winking at an android… And to make matters worse, the man found himself looking around for another one, the pesky PL600 Hank somehow had acquired.

Ah, there he was, gently shoving the YK600 back towards her parents. Or owners. Or whatevers.

“Hey, Reed!” Daniel greeted his weird acquaintance again. “Gavin, was it? Having fun?”

Casting another glance over at the stumbling, muttering Hank, Gavin nodded.

“You know what, I feel like sitting down on a bench and resting my feet”, he said, loud enough for Hank to hear.

Perhaps that was why Daniel still didn’t feel repulsed enough by this man to just walk away. Reed was rarely ever acting or pretending. Well, the was the PC200-disguise, but that was straight up professional. With this human there was no mistaking negligence for kindness. And also, interacting with the worst of humanity softened the blow of having killed a little. Daniel hadn’t been all wrong about this species. He wasn’t the only trash in this town and who knew? With the other trash getting by, stumbling into, but also out, of one catastrophe after the other while somehow still solving cases, there was hope that things might work out for Daniel, too. Somehow…

Together the detective and the android sat down on a park bench.

“Is that a typical work day for you?” Daniel asked with genuine interest.

“Rather slow, actually. How about you? What were you doing in the park? Still going through your old daily routines like a broom fetching water, I bet.”

“A broom… fetching… what?”

“Get an education!”

“Get some social skills!”

Sitting… staring…

Eventually, after making sure that Hank was still talking to the crowd and would not hear his next sentence, Daniel said: “Connor is dead.”

Gavin leaned back and laughed.

“Wasn’t in the news. So unless you did the deed yourself right before we ran into you today, you’re just pulling my leg.”

“Little Connor, I mean. My pet rat.”

Daniel had buried the rat, who had been a companion for a short time only, in the park, like so many hamsters had found their final resting place here, too. In fact, the whole park was sure to be littered with rodent and budgie skeletons. Sometimes the pets’ young owners said their goodbyes at the unmarked graves, but more often than not the family android did it and then returned home with an identical animal to replace the deceased one. Until the same happened to them… Daniel briefly wondered whether maybe an android or two had gotten buried in the park, in secret, to get around the law that treated them as objects?

“Say it again!” Gavin asked, looking expectantly now, like a cat in front of the mousehole where it had noticed movement. Only the butt wiggle was missing.

“Okay, but just once.” Slowly and pronounced Daniel told his little story in the way most pleasing to his audience: “That rat Connor perished. He bit the dust and we won’t hear his irritating, squeaky little noises anymore.”

After having practiced on a nine year old, entertaining Gavin Reed wasn’t that hard anymore. Daniel’s reward was unfettered laughter, with even one or two laughing tears.

“I guess he was old”, Daniel said.

“Or lonely. If you want something more portable than your fishes, drop by my place later and grab a bagful of mice!”

“I didn’t know you liked rodents?”

“My roommates do.”

And that was how Hank Anderson found the unlikely duo: Exchanging addresses.

“What the fuck, Gavin, you’re giving him your number already? Shit got real between you two faster than I expected!”

“He promised me mice, Sir”, Daniel told Hank, just to say something while trying to make sense of the lieutenant’s statement. But Hank only raised his arms up into the air, going “That’s between you young folks! I don’t want to know!” and left the scene laughing, leaving Daniel and the glaring Gavin to their own devices.

[wolfqueen-is-here]

“Especially Now”, Jon x Sansa fanfiction

Eh, so I went to the dentist a few days ago to have my wisdom tooth pulled. Despite being on a shitload of anaesthetics/painkillers, I needed a distraction from all the pain, hence - this. (And also I may have found out where the name “wisdom tooth” comes from. Since the extraction I’ve been feeling considerably dumber than usual, I believe that tooth may have contained a huge chunk of my usual eloquence, now irrevocably gone.)

If you prefer reading on ao3, here’s a link.

Title: “Especially Now”

Relationship: Jon/Sansa

Wordcount: 1742

Tags: love confessions (sort of), godswood, post-parentage reveal, mild hurt/comfort, POV Sansa, Post-season 7, before battle

ESPECIALLY NOW

It’s been three days since they learned the truth, and Jon doesn’t seem to be getting better. The Others are closer every day, Bran says, but Jon is either staring at the walls during meetings or he’s disappearing for hours, maybe longer. Even Daenerys Targaryen grows suspicious.

„Lady Sansa, forgive me,” she interrupts her once, smiling kindly. Littlefinger was right, she is the most stunning woman Sansa has ever laid eyes on. The worry suits her, too. Her face becomes softer, almost girly, a shadow of who they all were before the world forced them to grow up. „There are some final arrangements that we need to consult with your brother, but he is nowhere to be found. Would you please ask him to visit Lord Tyrion’s chambers as soon as you see him?”

It’s not even an order, it’s a plea. The Dragon Queen is concerned—and so is Sansa.

She gives Daenerys a brief nod and gets back to her solar to put on her coat. There is only one place where he would seek solace other than the crypts—and he’s definitely not in the crypts, Arya’s already checked.

It’s not possible to sneak up on somebody in the godswood, the snow crunching under Sansa’s feet announces her presence long before she reaches a hunched, miserable creature sitting on one of the roots. He knows that he’s no longer alone, she takes it from the way his shoulders tense up under a leather jerkin.

“If you want to freeze yourself to death, could you please do it after the Night King is defeated?” Sansa asks, and it’s supposed to sound playful but comes out almost mean. She bites her lip, comes a few steps closer, and then covers him with another fur, the one she’s been carrying through Winterfell’s courtyards, raising curious glances.

She lingers a while longer with her hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I’m with you,” she wants to say, but somehow the reassurance refuses to form. They’ve been telling him the same thing for days, why would he decide to listen to her now? He needs to be alone, she knows that, but unfortunately, it’s the last thing they should let him do. They are his family and nothing will change it.

Jon doesn’t move for another two or three minutes, and Sansa begins to consider releasing his shoulder and retreating to the safety of her solar when suddenly he raises his hand and places it over Sansa’s. She’s got her gloves on, but even through thick leather she can feel the icy touch. She glances down and realises that his hand went almost blue from the cold.

“Jon!” she yells at him—or maybe just whispers, it’s all very quiet around here, she wouldn’t want to disturb the gods—and crunches down in front of Jon to force him to look at her. “You need to snap out of this,” she says, a tinge of rebuke in her voice. “We need you. Not in some fight against the dead that we may as well lose even with you leading our armies. We need you as our family. Arya and Bran need you. I need you.”

Jon finally looks at her—and there’s so much pain in his eyes, it almost physically hurts Sansa to see him like that. She takes both of his hands in hers—partly to make him listen to what she has to say more carefully, the touch always seems to work magic between them, and partly to warm them up—and tugs them under her furs, close to her heart.

“I’m sorry that it happened, Jon. I truly am. No one should have to find out such things after years of carefully building their identity around some scraps that turned out to be lies. You might think that I have no idea of what I speak, but I too was always proven to be wrong about everything I wanted to be. It’s offensive to compare these two, I know, but please take it from the deepest, most honest part of my soul: you might not be our brother, but you will always be our family. There’s only four of us left, you and I, and Arya, and Bran. We are the pack. We are a family. We are the Starks.”

“I’m not a Stark,” he says grimly with a hoarse voice. Sansa is certain he’s been crying for the better part of the last few days. She’d do anything to make him understand.

“You are,” she insists. “Don’t be ridiculous. As far as I’m concerned this only proves you are more of a Stark than you’ve been thus far.” Jon doesn’t look away for a second, as if searching for something in her eyes that would make him believe her words. He seems so lost, she just wants to lock him in a tight embrace and never let go. “I know my mother was never kind to you. Your identity was a hurtful lie she died believing, and it breaks my heart to imagine how different our lives might have been in different circumstances. I hope you forgive her, and I hope she forgives Father for what he put her through. But Father… He loved you with all his heart. If you think even for a minute that Ned Stark wasn’t your true parent—” Jon squeezes her hand tight as if he’s clinging to this declaration. “I don’t care whose blood you share. Father risked everything he held dear to give you a good life, to protect you from King Robert’s wrath, from all the enemies who might have come for your head, had they learned the truth. He raised you as his own, and I’m sure he died regretting that the truth was dying with him. You are a Stark on your father’s side, and now you’re a Stark on your mother’s side, too. In fact, you’re more of a Stark than any of us. Arya, Bran, and I are all half-Stark and half-Tully,” she smiles.

And Jon looks at her for a moment with bright eyes—Sansa thinks there might be tears forming in them but it’s something else entirely, something thrilling, challenging even. And then he smiles back. It’s weak and lasts only a mere second, but it’s undeniably there. Jon pulls her closer and buries his face in her furs.

“You don’t have to be kind to me,” he murmurs.

Sansa rolls her eyes.

“Of course I don’t have to be kind to you, you dummy. I choose to be kind to you because I love you,” she says angrily, and to make her point stronger places a soft kiss to the top of his head, not unlike the one he once gifted to her.

They stay like that for a while, hugging tightly, their arms tangled together, Jon breathing into Sansa’s neck and Sansa stroking the top of his head with her nose, until it dawns on them how strange they must look from the outside.

Well, it certainly dawns on Sansa, because when she suddenly pulls back, Jon seems to have been taken by surprise.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a mortified expression, “was I making you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” She blinks at him. “Of course not. Why would you make me uncomfortable?”

There’s a long, silent moment when Jon studies her face carefully as if it is the first time he ever sees her. Then he lets go of her hands and hides his own under his cloak.

“If I asked you a question… Would you answer truthfully?”

It should probably offend her that he would think otherwise, but she decides not to comment on that. He’s way too vulnerable to deal with her wounded pride just yet.

Instead, Sansa simply nods.

It seems to be as good an encouragement as any, because Jon makes this stupid face which he uses when he’s being stubborn: like when he insisted on going to a fight with just a bunch of men, or when he declared that he would be riding south to convince Daenerys Targaryen to fight for them. Only this time it’s about something much more personal, she can feel it.

Jon lowers his eyes almost as if he can’t look at Sansa while he asks.

“About what you said earlier.”

Sansa expects him to continue, but that’s all she seems to be getting.

“I said many things, Jon,” she sighs.

“You said you loved me.” Ah, that. “Why?”

His voice is shaking, he sounds almost too afraid to be hopeful. It breaks her heart.

“What do you mean why? I said it because it is how I feel. You are the most important person in the entire world to me.”

Although Sansa has never wondered about it before, she knows in her heart that it’s true. She loves Arya and Bran more than she loves herself, but Jon is the first person she ever loved for who he was and what they shared together, not someone whom she was conditioned to love no matter what. Maybe it was lady Catelyn’s doing. Maybe it was for the better.

Jon still refuses to look her in the eye.

“Even now?” he asks quietly. “Even after it’s been revealed that I’m not your brother?”

“Especially now,” she answers without really giving it much thought. Seeing that he finally raises his head and stares at her, she gives him an encouraging smile and stands up. Turning to get back to the castle, she hears him whisper:

“Sansa.”

Something about the tone of his voice stops her in her tracks. She doesn’t turn back to him, hit by freezing wind from the North. For a short moment Sansa fears that they’re nearing the end at last, that Winterfell might be under attack, but then she hears Jon’s pleading words:

“Especially now?” There’s a thunder coming from afar. Or maybe it’s just the beating of Sansa’s heart? “Why especially?”

And at this moment, witnessed by the old gods, Sansa finally realises.

She loves Jon, yes.

But she’s also in love with Jon.

A terrifying awakening, and one that is followed by the sound of horns from the gates. “They’re here,” Sansa thinks, and Jon looks at her for the last time before he grabs her hand and they run together towards the castle. “Please,” she prays to the gods, “please let us live, so that I may tell him one day.”