#you know teenage ian would try to be all chill and like yeah it’s my bday

[lupeloto]

happy birthday to the light of my life🫶🏻

back in the day, little teenage ian would slip a small clue about how it’s his “birthday today” when he and mickey would hang out in the summer. he tried to be chill about it but absolutely was not. the reactions went from “why do i give a shit” to some sexual innuendo about giving him his present as the years went on.

teenage ian never got the reaction he wanted obviously but he now looks back and laughs as he shares his birthday with his husband every year. but mickey still makes a sexual joke about it every year

[restapesta]

If somebody had ever told Mickey that, one day, he'd be chilling at the beach with two girls, one a whiny toddler, the other one a whiny tween, he wouldn't have believed them.

Especially if one happened to be his daughter and the other one his niece.

Franny was sitting cross-legged on one of the towels, earbuds stuck deep into her ears, some heavy-metal shit busting through her skull, loud enough for the entire beach to hear.

She was being prissy the whole day, the puberty thing hitting her like a truck, destroying the sweet, innocent Franny and leaving a monster in its wake.

A very temperamental monster that Mickey had offered to take off of Debbie's hands as a favor to Sandy who was planning on using up the day for sex Mickey did not need to know about. She had spewed some shit about her and Debbie not spending enough time together due to the—as she so nicely put it—needy brat, and, Franny actually likes you Mickey, please!.

And well, he actually liked Franny too, so he said yes.

It would've been a great day at the beach, it really would have, had Franny not said upon seeing Ian getting ready to go with them, "Uh, no, just me and uncle Mick."

Ian had given Franny the most surprised/slightly-wounded look and simply nodded.

But then he turned to Mickey and thrust the sleepy baby he had been holding into his hands, saying, with a slightly indigent look, "Father-daughter day too, yeah? Wanna grab some beers with my brothers."

And with a begrudging glare sent towards Ian, followed by the same Ian smiling and pressing a kiss to both Mickey's and their daughter's head, Mickey was off with two girls to the loud, obnoxious beach where he would be playing caretaker all day.

Mickey also didn't miss the daggers Franny was shooting towards them all, a scowl etched on her face.

Alas, they were at the fucking beach.

His little girl was bouncing on his knee as he shook the car keys in front of her, tiny hands reaching out to grasp them like a kitten. Mickey was smiling softly as he watched his daughter purse her tiny lips in concentration and try and catch the jingling metal that Mickey was pulling out of her reach each time she got too close.

A small red baseball hat was perched up on her head, and they were in the shade, making sure the one-year-old wasn't in the Sun's way at any given moment.

"Come on, baby," Mickey cooed in a voice he had never, in his life, imagined he would use. "You're a Milkovich, you can do it."

The little girl giggled and then with a newfound determination, lunged for the keys, tearing them out of her dad's grip.

She looked up at him expectantly.

Mickey raised his hand in a high-five and bounced their hands softly together, noting how tiny hers looked compared to his. "Good job girl, making dad proud."

He sported a wide smile on his face as he watched his daughter play with the keys, seemingly forgetting about him altogether.

Mickey was, in fact, so lost in thought of how fucking lucky he was—with Ian, his kid, his family—that he didn't even notice Franny huffing, tearing the earbuds out of her ears violently, getting up from where she was sitting, and stomping away.

When he did though, he was not too happy about having to get up and chase a hormonal teenager down the beach with a baby in his hands.

But, alas, he did.

"Franny!" He said once he was close enough, the toddler in his hands making whimpering sounds as she chewed on the keys.

He moved them away from her mouth once he noticed, sending her a warning glare, muttering slowly so she would understand, "Eating keys is a no-no."

She simply blinked.

She was so fucking cute.

"Ugh!" Mickey snapped his head towards Franny who was grasping strands of her long, red hair in her hands, tugging at them in exasperation. "This is what I'm talking about! This!"

Mickey had no fucking clue what was going on. In fact, all he wanted was for Ian to be there alongside him, guiding Mickey through this like he did through a lot of things. He would know what the fuck was going on in the first place.

He wondered if his own little girl would end up blowing up on him some day over something on a public beach with a bunch of people staring.

He hoped so—it'd make him proud.

He turned his attention back to his niece.

"Franny, look, I have no clue what you're so pissy about."

She snorted, eyes rolling. "Of course you don't. If you weren't staring at that goddamn baby every two seconds maybe you would notice!"

Staring at that goddamn baby? He shot Franny a look. "You mean my kid?"

She screamed, making Mickey cringe, "Ugh!"—right before stomping away back to their towels.

Mickey watched his niece go, lips parted.

What the fuck just happened?

---

The car ride back home was spent in silence.

In fact, the entire day had been spent in silence, the only thing filling the void being the chatter from the beach and the toddler's giggles.

When Mickey dropped Franny off back at the Gallagher house, she shut the door with all the strength Mickey didn't know she possessed, making the car shudder, and subsequently making the little girl in the back whimper in what was the beginning of a cry.

Needless to say, the day had gone to shit.

He drove back home in what should have been silence, but was instead the wailing of a Milkovich baby.

She calmed down by the time they were at the door to their home.

Fuck, Mickey was fucking exhausted.

As soon as the two came into Ian's view—the same Ian who was sipping on a lemonade with a gay-ass straw—his face split into a wide grin. He grabbed their daughter from Mickey's arms, hugging her close.

"Hello my little tomato." He kissed the top of her tiny head, making her smile and laugh.

He then glanced at Mickey, a sly smirk replacing the sweet smile.

"Hello my big tomato."

Mickey rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled in towards his husband, careful not to squish their child. They kissed slowly, Mickey forgetting the turmoils of the day and Franny's outburst.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, Mickey felt tiny arms pushing his face, making him pull away from Ian.

He glanced down at the pouting, angry child. Her cheeks were chubbier than usual, eyes squinting as she tried to pry her dads apart.

Mickey stared. "What's she doing?"

In response, Ian chuckled and replied, again kissing her cheeks, "Somebody's jealous, aren't you, little one?"

And that was when it clicked.

Franny. Her outburst. The way she glared at Ian. The way she glared at their baby girl.

Franny was jealous.

She was fucking jealous.

"Hey man, you alright?"

Mickey sighed, meeting Ian's eyes. The baby was falling asleep in his arms.

"I gotta go do something real quick, I'll be back."

Ian's brows furrowed. "What is that something, exactly?"

Just as Mickey grabbed his keys again, pressing a kiss to Ian's cheek, he said, "I need to apologize to Franny," Then he headed back towards the Gallagher house where she was probably still seething.

---

When Franny saw Mickey at the door of her room, she shut the door in his face.

"Oh, come on, kid!" He knocked again, feeling slightly irritated. "Open the fuck up!"

The door shimmied open slowly, a frowning Franny appearing before him. As soon as she let go of the knob, she crossed her arms indignantly across her chest, staring Mickey down.

Mickey took notice of the RED-HEAD tattooed across her knuckles with a red sharpie, an imitation of Mickey's tats. He smiled at them, seeing how she must've done it as soon as she came back home.

"I like them," He pointed at her hands making her twist the hand with the HEAD on it, inspecting it.

She didn't reply.

Mickey sighed, crossing his own arms. And before he knew he was doing it, he said, "I'm sorry."

Franny raised an eyebrow.

"For not spending the day with you like you deserved." He continued.

Franny scoffed, the first animate thing she did since he arrived. "You mean for staring at that tiny monster the entire time?"

Yup, Mickey thought, jealous.

"Cute tiny monster," He corrected making her scowl deepen and fists visibly clench. Then he quickly added, "Yeah, I'm sorry."

Franny gnawed in her lip for a few moments before letting out a loud sigh. She eyed Mickey once, from head to toe, before relenting.

"Fine," The redhead huffed. "But you're taking me out tomorrow. No Ian, no baby, just you and me, uncle-niece bonding time."

Mickey smiled at the girl, so little, yet so grown up, and he wondered how he truly wanted his own daughter to grow up to be like Franny, taking nobody's shit.

"Deal," He extended his hand for her to shake, which she took. The girl had a firm grasp. "I'll take you on a proper date, my lady. Dinner at McDonald's and paintball so we can shoot some shit. That good?"

Franny smiled widely, remanding Mickey so much of Ian, running towards him swiftly, and wrapping her arms around his torso.

"I love you uncle Mickey," She murmured against his shirt, the sound muffled.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her orange head.

"Love you too, baby carrots."

He really did.

[gallavichfanficlibrary]

Day 6

1. Have you ever read for another fandom? If so, what do you wish to see explored from those fandoms in the Shameless one?

I’ve been reading fanfiction for over thirteen years, for very different fandoms. There are still fics out there I wrote when I was a teenager... So yeah, even though Shameless is probably the first (maybe second) fandom I’m so deep in, I can say I’ve seen a lot.  

And honestly, I don’t think I’m not satisfied with the way our fandom digs into the characters and explores every little moment? Probably, cause the writers don’t leave us another choice, and we have to use all our mental powers to explain some of the plot points along the way :D So, I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job. But I’m really curious to see other people answers on that particular question! -CJ

***

Yep! I first discovered fanfiction on Quizilla (RIP). It was a Jasper/OC from before he was with the Cullens and I was highly confused. I kind of got it was fanwork but I was also in 6th grade and didn’t really understand what that meant. After that years went by, I became a huge nerd and got super into Glee and bam. Real introduction to fanfiction and what I consider my first fandom. I never really contributed much to it regrettably, but I did read a lot of fan works. And still do sometimes (when I’m not busy here and in real life!)

What I miss (and also hate) about Glee fanfiction is the sheer amount of ships. If you can think of a ship, it’s got fanfiction about it. I miss wanting to explore a ship and not running into a dead end. Anyway, I really think finding Glee femslash helped me explore my sexuality as it’s the first place I felt I could look into queer relationships and couples. Which is why I would absolutely never discourage people in this fandom when it comes to WLW ships or characters. It’s just sad that this fandom doesn’t have exactly that kind of content for people in a similar position.

On the flip side, no other ships mean no ship wars. I cannot stress how dumb I find ship wars. Especially if they don’t involve the same character. With Glee it was all about proving which big ship was better, healthier, had more chemistry, etc. I liked them all 😅 -MMW

2. What do you love about this fandom?

Continuing my answer to the previous question, I love the way you can find a discourse about literally anything! :D Character study is thriving here, cause where would we be without the wonders of mental gymnastics x)

Another thing: due to this show being so close to reality, we’ve all formed a very special bond with the characters - they just seem so real, flawed and human, dealing with real life problems we all have - which allows us to take them very seriously, almost like real people, and therefore be very protective of them. What I’ve noticed over the years in other fandoms - people are much more chill about making the characters miserable. No one bats an eyelash when the characters get injured or are suffering for the plot. In our fandom though, if I see Ian or Mickey seriously hurt - I’m already shocked! I’m not even talking about unhappy endings. I just love how gentle we are with them and how we try our best to give them the happiness they deserved because we care deeply :) -CJ 

***

While @captainjowl has already given a better answer than I’ll ever give, my only addition is going to be the size. This fandom isn’t so small that I’m having to dig for content but it’s not so big that I feel lost in it. I feel like I do to an extent know a lot of you that regularly interact, or at least recognize your urls lol. It’s a cozy sized fandom. -MMW

🌟 Is there anything from other fandoms you wish to see in the Shameless fandom? What do you love about this fandom? 🌟  

[galactichoneybee92]

The Problem With Spinning Out and Zero Chill

Okay so spoilers. All the spoilers. Go into this at your own risk because every possible spoiler for both shows. Also: I will be speaking about these two shows with the assumption that readers have seen both and as such, will not need a summary of either. Okay, still here? Cool. 

I have no big hot take, just some observations that I would like to put out into the universe in regards to Netflix’s two most recent ice skating shows. Because I have a lot of thoughts, and also one big question for anyone who can maybe help me? 

For starters, Spinning Out and Zero Chill are both Netflix originals that premiered around approximately the same time, both of which feature figure skating as a backdrop for a lot of interpersonal drama surrounding the characters. It’s wonderful, because while I’m not very invested in sports I adore figure skating- It’s beautiful and fun to watch even if you don’t know a lot of the technical aspects or the names of the moves. However, for centering around the same sport the two shows are very different. Also, Spinning Out has already been confirmed to have been cancelled after the first season, while the future of Zero Chill is still up in the air.

In regards to personal preference, I liked Spinning Out a lot more than Zero Chill. It had a love story for me to invest myself in, as well as some messy, dramatic family dynamics, and overall the show was a lot more mature. I suspect that this may have actually been to the show’s detriment but that’s for later. In contrast, I found Zero Chill to be fluffy to the point of an ABC Family special. 

Do you remember those? Shows like Switched at Birth or Secret Life of the American Teenager, that tried to tackle big mature topics while keeping things family friendly? Do you remember how the writing was usually pretty sub par and the drama all seemed super contrived because there was only so much they could actually do within their given boundaries, so they made a much bigger deal out of small issues than they deserved? Yeah. Zero Chill felt like that. For example, the “hazing” from the hockey team was to...put balloons in his locker? And that was a...major diss? Worth getting super pissed? Idk. It’s just that, without the confines of being family-friendly day time programing, I have come to expect more from Netflix original programming. 

Alternatively, Spinning Out may have veered too far into the dark and gritty spectrum. If I had to guess where it failed, I would say that it introduced A LOT of drama, all within the first season and at times felt, overwrought. I think Spinning Out could have done with slowing down and taking a breath. Draw things out. Have the mother slowly escalate her abuse, stop and start with her medication, stretch out the love triangle between Kat, Justin, and Marcus. When I first started watching I thought that maybe Marcus would be Kat’s Luke Danes. Like throughout the show she dates other people, but eventually she realizes that she loves him and they end up together but...nope. The show established pretty early on that we were not going to have an epic, interracial friends to lovers romance. And I loved the enemies to lovers romance we got between her a Justin (Though I really think it should have taken longer. I liked that they hooked up before and that he was kinda low key pining but stretch it out. Sloooooooow buuuuuuuurn. Make it goooood. I want to feel the pining.) but it did feel like the cop out answer. And then they immediately introduce a black female character because apparently in the year 2021 we still have shows with exactly 2 black characters that are there to date each other. Like fuck, even South Park has made fun of that trope, it’s time to move past it. 

Secondly I think that it’s super out of character for Kat to ever go off her medicine, even if it is to help her skating. It’s the same way I felt when they introduced Ian’s mental Illness in Shameless. Like, maybe it’s a thing that people do and if you’ve known people that act this was in these scenarios than sure, maybe I’m wrong. But it just feels like they go to so much effort to show the effect that their parent’s mental illness has on them and their life when left untreated, they establish the characters as grown up too quickly, forced to mature due to their parent’s poor choices, and then just decide to have them follow in their mother’s footsteps when the plot demands more drama. I hated that as a choice for Ian and I hated it for Kat. Partly because I feel like it’s very out of character and cop-out writing, and also because I feel like if they had to do it at all it should have been later on in the series. 

One advantage that Zero Chill had for me over Spinning Out is that at least the characters were consistent. In this case I’m speaking mostly about Kayla, but also some of the others. Sure, I found Kayla’s impulsivity annoying instead of charming like I feel was the intent, but I liked her friendship with Skye arguably more than Kat’s friendship with Jenn. Mostly because Skye was pretty chill throughout the entirely of the show while Jenn would go from hot to cold and back. Do I think it’s stupid that Kayla and Skyle’s big storyline was “I want to skate with my BFF but regulations don’t allow it?” Yes. You’ve already established that Kayla doesnt care about competitions. The only time she ever did was because she wanted to skate with her OTHER BFF. So like....just skate now? You have Skye’s mom’s approval at this point, it doesn’t have to go anywhere. But at least the two seemed to genuinely be friends. Kat and Jenn started off with potential but then turned fairly toxic. Kat was never that supportive of Jenn, always wrapped up in her own stuff and Jenn just got crazy at the end there. I understand her being upset about Justin but then she learns that Kat is bipolar, you think theyre cool, and then she immediately throws that back in Kat’s face at the first inconvenient moment. 

Can I just say though, how much more interested I was when I thought the secret figure skater was someone on Mac’s hockey team? I was trying to guess which boy it secretly was and I thought that there would be a subplot about her trying to convince him to figure skate with her, but he would feel pressured by his parents to play hockey instead. And that would work as a foil to Ava, who wanted to play hockey but was instead forced to figure skate. And there would be an eventual romance because what can I say, I’m here for the romance. But no...it was Skye and then there was just that subplot about Mac wanting to date his sister’s only friend. And like, when I was trying to guess who it was I thought it might be Bear and that would be her romantic interest but....no. Bear just, also likes Skye. 

Also, is it some unwritten rule that for every white girl figure skater with brown hair, there must be an Asian best friend? This isnt a complaint, just an observation. 

And clearly I don’t ONLY have complaints. I thought that both shows ahd a promising premise, and I loved the relationship on Spinning Out. When Zero Chill actually bothered with real issues instead of contrived nothing issues, I think it did it pretty well. I liked the friendships and family dynamic better in Zero Chill, but wished that it would have been a little more mature like Spinning Out. I liked that the characters in Spinning Out were mostly adults and that it had a more adult tone, but I wish that they had dialed the melodrama back just a bit. What I really want, I supposed, is a combination of the two shows which leads nicely into my question for you all: 

I remember browsing Netflix months ago and seeing a figure skating show advertised, however it wasn’t either of these shows. It feels like these two shows were once one, and then got split up into two because I am completely unable to find the show I originally saw a commercial for. 

In that original ad there was a brother and sister, one who played hockey and one who figure skated. But the hockey brother was jealous of the sister because he felt like their parents prioritized her figure skating. So one day, before a big performance of hers, he met her right before the performance and yelled at her about how unfair everything was and it shook her up and when she went out on the ice she wasn’t focused. She slipped and fell, split her head open on the ice, and her confidence was shaken. 

But like...that wasn’t either of these shows so what the hell was it??? Were they once one? Was there some other show that hasn’t been released yet? Did I see it in a dream???? 

[jupitermelichios]

What I’d change about Rise of Skywalker

To be clear, these are changes I’d make to the existing script, not what I would have written instead. We can all agree Sheev coming back was, at best, a bit dumb, I’m also fully aware that a lot of people disliked TLJ for a variety of reasons and wanted ros to retconn more stuff, but this is not an attempt to change any of that. I’m taking the basic structure of the movie and shifting stuff around to create something I think is tonally and thematically more in line with the overall trillogy.

Also i’m aware the extended universe is sort of canon-until-proven-otherwise at the moment but as far as i’m concered there was a DC style crisis and it’s now open season on worldbuilding elements

- Starting right at the very beginning, our opening crawl is now just about immortality being one of the secret sith powers Sheev kept hinting about in the prequels

- Our very first sequence in the movie is now a (short) montage of Sheev sending psychic messages to members of the First Order, telling them to join his secret sith club. It’s not just Kylo, this is a thing he’s just generally doing, Hux, Pryde, Kylo, random Storm Trooper number 7, they’re all getting this same message.

- Kylo buggers off to go murder Sheev, because Snoke never actually let him graduate (or whatever modern sith do) so he’s not actually a sith lord, but he’s like ah, new/old sith lord is in town, I go kill him and I get to take his title by right of conquest rule of one styley, and also take out a threat to my power base. Also in the one scene we see of him interacting with the first order it’s pretty clear he actually really fucking hates being in charge, so a mission to kill Sheev is looking super win-win

- The reason Exigor is sacred to the Sith now, the reason Palpatine’s able to communicate accross planets, and the reason he’s still alive (ish) are all the same - the planet “has a heart... oF KAIIIBURRRRRR!” (yes the line should be delivered exactly like that) that amplified force powers

- Instead of just being Ian McDermott in white facepaint, Sheev’s design draws heavily on Darth Nihilus or Darth Sion, his body is dead or maybe nonexistant depending on how gross they’re prepared to go. The point is, the answer to the question ‘how the fuck did he survive?’ should be essentially ‘he didn’t’; he’s a consiousness and a fuckton of willpower and not much else

- We establish a temple/cult in this universe that worships twin gods and are generally all about balance and shit coming in twos and they think force diads are sacred. I’m thinking someone at the temple has resistance information, and when Rey and Poe visit, Poe goes to talk to the contact while Rey meditates and sees Luke’s ghost who tells her how he and Leia came here together and about their belief system and how there are different ways of connecting to the force than just being a jedi, setting up the plot point of the diad, our theme of ‘the people we love are never really gone’, and also laying the groundwork for what’s going to be a second theme of building something new rather than repeating the mistakes of the past, by establishing the sith/jedi dichotomy isn’t the only possible path to take.

- Rose and Finn are bored and stuck on base while their friends are on this mission, so when they get a distress call from a minor First Order base they go off to investigate. They find Hux, who’s been ousted in a coup in favour of the First Order just straight up following Sheev after Kylo wondered off, who promises them information. At this base, Finn also sees some young storm trooper cadets.

- Back at the rebel base they all meet up and Hux (who they’ve taken prisoner) tells them about Sheev being back, which they didn’t know about because he’s only been speaking to bad guys.

- Leia is already dying, Rey is super upset about it and during an accidental mind share, Kylo finds out and tells her Sidious knows how to heal people by transferring life energy from one person to another. The healing thing is specifically a Sith power this go around. We get a moment pretty soon after during a mission where someone gets injured, probably Finn, and she figures out how to heal them based on the hints Kylo gave her

- Also this time Leia still isn’t a jedi but not because of a prophesy, it’s because she disagrees with their philosophy, which is going to be relevant later. We get a line to the effect that ‘Luke didn’t grow up surrounded by the legacy of the Jedi’s failings, I did’

- The weird knife thing isnt anymore, it’s just a hollicron now, and the whole bit with both Lando and Rey’s parents and the bonty hunter are removed to give us breathing room elsewhere, it’s just a more tradtional fetch quest now.

- In order to get the holicron translated, Poe’s like “you’re not going to like this, but I maybe know a guy from doing undercover missions”, and takes them to Black Sun to speak to Darth Maul, that’s right, Darth Maul is here now, and he helps them because his prosthetics are breaking down and Rose fixes them and saves his life. Also he’s pretty pissed at Sheev for getting him killed so he’s totally chill with them killing the guy.

- The Hollicron tells them that the last known map to Exigor was stored in the archives of the temple of Corisant.

- They go to the ruins of the temple, a place that is both nostaligic and also has actual character significance to kylo and ties into our theme of how the jedi and the sith are both a bit shit, and even though it makes more sense for it to have been cleaned up, it’s full of little baby skeletons from Anakin’s massacre, just for the drama of it

- Rey and Kylo fight, he taunts her again with the promise of healing Leia, but this time Rey uses their bond and her knowledge of how to talk to force ghosts to basically force Kylo’s third eye wide open so he’s hearing a hundred force ghosts all at one, stabs him while he’s distracted, heals him, and then she fucks off, leaving him to talk to the force ghost of Anakin, who tells him he’s a moron who’s falling for the same bullshit Sheev used on him

- Rey joins up with the others, but at the Rebel base Hux has managed to escape and shoots Leia (it’s dramatic and she dies saving someone but it’s not actually particularly plot relevant so imagine your own death scene of choice here), and obviously Rey feels it

- At this point the gang split up, Poe and Rose go back the the Rebels because they know they’ll be needed, Finn goes off to rescue the storm trooper kids he saw earlier (yeah I’m adding a subplot what’re you going to do about it), and Rey goes off to fight Palpatine

- In the temple, Leia appears to Kylo as a force ghost while he’s doing dramatic ‘i can’t go on’ kneeling pose and gives him a little pep talk and name drops the title

- Finn goes to the first order base, finds the kids, and the little ones are on board with escaping but then they run into some teenagers who actually have guns and it cuts away on a ‘will they turn him in?” cliffhanger

- Rey arrives in Sheev’s big cave thing, tries to fight him but he’s all ‘the jedi could not defeat me before, what makes you think they can now when you’re barely more than a padawan’ and force lightnings her a bit. They’re not related in this universe, he just wants to steal her lifeforce to heal himself more because she’s powerful

- Turns out that the First Order have been tracking Hux, so they know where the Rebel base is so there’s a big space battle going on, and the First Order don’t even have any fancy secret weapon but there’s a lot of them and there’s not enough Rebel ships left after TLJ. Poe’s up in the air flying even though he’s the boss now, and Rose is on the comms trying to contact allies

"This is the Rebellion, please. In the name of Leia Organa, we're calling you. Please, if there's anyone out there. For Leia Organa, for Luke Skywalker, for Amilyn Holdo, please…" and then when there's no response, in tears, she whispers, "For Rose Tico, please!"

There's a beat of silence, and then the radio crackles to life.

"Rose Tico calls for aid, and Black Sun will answer."

A moment later another, "Leia Organa calls for aid and Cloud City will answer."

and then a moment later, “The Rebellion calls for Aid and the Free Troopers will answer” and we cut to Finn in a stolen First Order ship full of the trooper cadets of all ages.

A makeshift amada joins the fight, same as in the original version, and rose and circular briad crown girl who’s also been trying to call for back up hug in celebration and have a very brief ‘oh wait maybe i’m into you’ moment

- Back on Exigor, Kylo arrives to find Rey on the floor, dying. He takes her hand and we see them as spirits, surrounded by the flickering memories of their lives, they’re seeing one another properly for the first time, and they ackoledge one another as twins via the force (personally i’d make them explicitly siblings, by force if not blood, here to carry on the proud star wars tradition of ambiguously incestuous twins, but that might not fly with disney execs in the the 21st century), and then he gives her his life force to heal her and his last words are a title drop again, mirroring what Leia said to him, because this movie is cheesy as hell

- "The power of the Jedi could have lived in you, as the power of the sith lives in me. But instead you threw it away, for what? For that pathetic little boy? He was no more a true sith than you are a true Jedi!"

"I don't need to be a Jedi. The force is with me, and I am with the force. You have the sith. I have all that was and is and will be!"

Behind her force ghosts begin to appear, but not just jedi. There is as many of the Skywalker clan as we can get (including some reused green screen footage of Carrie Fisher), and Rose's sister, and Han, and people visually implied to be Poe and Finn’s parents, and Holdo, and behind them hundreds of others. Basically if we can afford them, they’re cameoing here, alongside a load of extras. And last of all, standing beside her is Ben.They exchange a look, and then Rey strikes. Palatine tries to force lightning her but it doesn't work, and she presses her hands to his cloak, pulls the life force out if him. Thes a terrible screaming and we see glimpses of the other sith, before they dissipate and the robe falls to the ground.

And obviously the space battle also gets definitively won at the same time, this is movieland, I’m thinking Finn and Poe have to coordinate an attack that relies on Finn using the force is that vague ‘jedi’s are all amazing pilots’ way episodes 1 and 4 both used

Oh and then at the end they’re all celebrating back on the Rebel base, and Finn starts to hit on Rose and she’s like “I’m not the one you want to say that too, also you’re not my type” and smooches circular braid-crown girl who’s been in the background of all these movies with nothing to so

Finn joins Poe and Rey and they all hug in the same ambigiously-poly way they did in the original, and then Poe’s like “I’m sorry about Kylo” kind of awkward because he still hates the guy but he knows Rey doesn’t, and Rey’s like ‘I’m not, the people we love never really leave us’

and then the final scene, Rey is carrying Kylo��s lightsabre and lays Luke’s and Leia’s on the altar of the temple of the twins, and goes to ask the priests to tell her about their religion, with the implication that she’s starting to build her own new version of the jedi

(and if I was disney this would totally be the set up for a new animated series about Rey travelling around the galaxy meeting new weird alien cultures and learning about what cool force powers they have, and the knights of Ren can be the bad guys, and sometimes she’ll come and help Finn and Poe and Rose with trying to rebuild the galaxy. And then they have to take out Black Sun in season 2 and it’s all super dramatic because they were allies sort of and had cameos, and now rey and maul are forced to have super cool spider-legs lightsabre battles instead)

[gallavictorious]

”You going out? I thought you weren't working tonight.”

Mickey looks up from his tie to see Ian leaning against the doorframe, in uniform and with his hair neatly slicked back.

”Nah, it isn't work. Well, not exactly,” he says, finishing the knot and taking a step back to admire the result in the mirror. He's getting pretty good at this. Lots of practice in the last few months, ever since he took the bodyguard gig officially on the road. Clients like it when he wears a tie. ”You know the chick I've been babysitting for the past few weeks, the one whose stalker I caught trying to climb in through the fucking window? She and her dad's taking me to some fancy place, uh... Piccolo something, to thank me. Since you're working the late shift, I thought – ”

Ian interrupts, straightening: ”Piccolo Sogno? Like, that really romantic place down in West Town? You telling me the girl who has a crush on you is taking you there?” He pauses, looking at Mickey with a cross between disbelief and bemusement. ”Are you going on a fucking date?”

Mickey stares at him. ”What the hell are you talking about?” he demands. Crush? Date? What?

---

The chick's name is Charlotte Eckerton.

He was supposed to call her Ms. Eckerton, she insisted he say Charlie, and what he actually went with was usually some classic television reference that she didn't get, or – when she's was being particularly annoying – ”hey, brat”. She was probably no worse than any other spoiled little North Side princess, but Mickey sure as hell didn't get why anyone, no matter how loony, would want to stalk her, because literally all she did was go to class, study, shop, and party with her equally irritating friends. Oh, and endlessly updating her Instagram stories with every last detail about her fascinating life, of course. He put a quick stop to that, because continually announcing your location to the public when a deranged psycho was stalking you was... well, let's face it, it was about as stupid as he expected from these people.

She threw a tantrum when he swapped her phone for one with restricted access to social media apps, and she tried to give him the slip at least twice a day for the first four days, going as far as paying some other goons to attack him while she made a run for it. She was not completely stupid, he had to give her that, and he was beginning to understand why her father had come to him rather than hire a more well-established firm. The girl was a complete nuisance, and occasionally quite clever about it. Clearly needed someone wise to all the tricks, and unafraid to rein her in and tell her in no uncertain terms when she was being an idiot.

Mr. Eckerton was loaded, having made his fortune doing some IT-shit or other, and for the kind of money he was offering, Mickey was prepared to put up with a quite a lot of hare-brained shenanigans, as well as hanging out at the Magnificent Mile afternoon after afternoon, and listening to the brat's endless babble about... hair? Make-up? Bands? Whatever. He didn't really pay attention; he'd have needed to be paid hell of a lot more than he was to do that.

After a week or so of thwarted escape attempts Charlotte had exchanged overt defiance for a more subtle approach, trying to throw him off his game by suddenly gifting him stuff, like a dark gray shirt ”that goes really well with your eyes”. He took the shirt, because it was pretty nice, as was the watch and the stupidly expensive hair-product she produced in the following days. He was a little insulted she thought he could be bought so easily, though; she'd have needed to double her father's money, at the very least – or gotten him a nice car. He had said as much to Ian, who had eyed the gifts with an unreadable expression on his face, and had failed to comment.

When bribery too proved a failed tactic she started asking a lot of personal question instead, fishing for weaknesses to exploit. Her strategy was pitifully obvious, however, and Mickey gave her nothing but monosyllabic responses. Finally, she resigned herself to being stuck with him for the time being, and mercifully stopped pestering him about letting her go to whatever concert or party was happening that night. She still dressed up and put on elaborate make-up every damned evening, though, even if it was just the two of them chilling at her place, but he supposed it was something for her to do. Fuck knew he could sympathize with the boredom of being locked up.  

So that was Charlotte, spoiled and stubborn and maybe a little bit clever underneath it all. Not the worst person he could imagine babysitting, not by a long shot, but not one he'd think back on either, now that the job was done. He probably wouldn't even have accepted her and her father's invitation to take him out for a meal, if it hadn't been for Ian's occasional insistence that he needed to be ”nicer to his clients” and ”cultivate professional contacts”. This only made his husband's reaction to the whole situation all the more annoying –

”It is not a date,” Mickey says flatly, irritation coloring his voice, because Ian is smiling at him in all too knowing way. ”I probably saved her fucking life, she wants to buy me dinner. That doesn't make this a – Listen, her fucking father is going to be there.”

”Yeah, sure he will.” Ian crosses his arms, still smirking like an asshole, but there's just a hint of an edge to the smile now. ”Does she even know you're gay?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. ”Of course she fucking knows, because I open every damned conversation with 'Hi, I'm Mickey and I love cocks' like a normal fucking faggot. Jesus. It hasn't come up. She knows I'm married.”

”Like that's gonna – ”

They're interrupted by the door to Liam's room opening, the boy stepping out to give them his very best judgemental look. ”Why are you yelling? I need to study.”

”Oh, it's nothing,” Ian says casually. ”Just Mickey having a date tonight. With a teenage girl.”

”She’s nineteen, and I am not – !”

Liam frowns. ”Is this like when he was fake-dating Byron to make you jealous? Are you going to go on a fake date too? With a girl?”  He pauses, frown deepening: ””Is there a Grindr for straight people?”

Ian's spared a reply as Lip comes up the stairs with Freddie in his arms. He pauses on the top step, brow furrowing as he takes in the scene: Mickey, dressed to the nines and with a scowl to match, Ian smiling with his arms crossed, and Liam wearing his trademark look, the one that says that everyone else is a bit of an idiot. ”What's going on here?”

”Mickey's going on a date with a woman.” Liam offers it readily, a true believer in the free dissemination of information. Probably something he picked up at private school.

Mickey gives a half-choked groan. ”It's not a – ! You know what, fuck you.” With one last glare and an extended middle finger, Mickey grabs his jacket and storms off.

Ian, Liam and Lip watch him go, nonplussed. Lip glances at Ian: ”Huh. Less than a year of marriage and you've already turned him off men.”

”Yeah, well. Have to admit I didn't see that one coming.”

---

The restaurant is fancy as hell, linen cloth and candlelight, one person to take his coat and another to show him to the table. Charlotte is already there, blonde hair pulled back in a strict ponytail, something expensive glittering around her neck and drawing attention to the generious helping of skin her lowcut black dress offers.

The table is set only for two. Mickey frowns as he takes his seat. ”Your father coming?”

”No.” The smile she gives him is very innocent. ”He got held up in a meeting, so he called to say he can't make it. He said to tell you sorry, and to thank you so much for your service.”

Listen to those alarm bells going off all at once... Mickey tries to mentally shake it off. It's nothing to worry about. Just Ian putting weird ideas into his head. ”Uh, yeah. Don't worry about it. Just doing my job.” He waves for the waiter to bring him a beer. He does need a drink, quite urgently.

Charlotte leans forward, looking up at him from under half-closed lids with a very intense expression on her perfectly moisturized face. ”You were so brave when Smithson attacked me. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. You know, my father is paying for this meal, but if there was something else you wanted... ?”

And that's her grabbing the olive from her drink and very deliberately pushing it past her lips and that's... that's her foot, sans shoe, slowly sliding down his calf.

Oh. Fuck. This is a date. Inwardly groaning, Mickey rubs a tired hand over his face, before looking straight at Charlotte: ”You know I'm fucking gay, right? Like, married to a man?”  Jesus, Ian is never going to let him hear the end of this...

Charlotte reels back just a little, mouth falling slightly open. He's prepared for shock, disgust even – but instead a dreamy look appears on her face. ”Oh my god, that is sooo hot!”

What?

---

He feigns sleep when Ian returns home a quarter past midnight, but his husband isn't fooled. ”How was your date?” he murmurs as he slips in under the covers and wraps his arms around Mickey from behind.

”Shut the fuck up.”

A quiet laugh, a kiss pressed to his shoulder. ”I take it you're sticking with cocks for now then.”

And sure, there's a teasing edge to the words, and sure, he'll hear about this for-fucking-ever, but... Mickey turns around, facing Ian. ”I guess I am,” he agrees, reaching up to run his thumb over Ian's cheek.

Whatever mischief is there fades from Ian's eyes, from his voice: ”I'm glad,” he says simply, and pulls Mickey in for a kiss.

Yeah. So is he.

---

This one goes out to @starkcravingmad​  who suggested a teenage charge crushing on a clueless Mickey, in a reply to this post. I know you didn't ask me to write it, and I have no idea if this is even vaguely related to what you had in mind, but for better or worse you planted the seed, and here we are. Didn't intend for it to get this long, or this silly, but yeah.

[lids-flutter-open]

gay goth boy trans ftm4ftm story chapter 4 under cut. 

content warning: f*g used by gays in punk songs/underage substance use

Chapter 4

Goat Mansion already had a lot of people sitting outside when I got there, which was way too early. The sun was still on the edge of the horizon. I parked my car two streets away, since I don’t like being a designated driver for more than my friends. I walked over to the house, approaching from the street side, and saw the gaggle of people from half a block away. They were sitting on the sidewalk and gathered in a little circle near the fence that divides Goat Mansion space from the edge of the public lands by the train tracks. The teenage goth kids were fraternizing with some crust punks and some people who might have been homeless teenagers from the group that lives in the train tunnel downtown. I didn’t recognize anyone, which made sense because OVID was coming from out of town so probably brought out different fans. One of the teenage goth kids had a thing of cheap boxed red wine but had taken the wine bag out of the box and was passing it around to her friends, having everyone chug, shouting BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD. One of the girls with her let the wine overflow her mouth and run down to soak into her black mesh shirt. They were all about my age or a little younger. I thought it looked like fun, but I don’t like drinking, so I didn’t get too close as I made my way around the house to the back. I knew people would be starting a bonfire. 

Bonfires in late summer are hard, because lately there’s been a burn ban for longer and longer into the autumn. This September, there hadn’t been enough rain to totally put everyone in the clear. And nobody wants to start a wildfire. But Goat Mansion has a rock pit that’s pretty big, and it’s easy to put out the fire with sand and water if it gets too much or starts sparking. When I got there, Acorn was piling the logs up and working with a piece of flint to spark it. Xie doesn’t use any gasoline because, again, too much risk for a big burn that gets out of control. 

“Hey,” I said to Acorn. “Seen anyone from Rocketpizza yet?”

Acorn turned. “Oh, hey, James,” xie said. Xie nodded hir head towards the sliding doors at the back of the house. “Just Ian. I think he was with Ken earlier, but Ken said something about 4Lokos and walked to the store and hasn’t come back.”

“Who’s buying Ken 4Lokos? That sounds like a bad start to the night,” I said. “Has anyone here brought up that sober space thing they’re trying at Fleur’s North? Suggested having a sober only show sometimes?”

“No, we’ve always kinda been a party house. Not likely to change. Somewhere needs to be messy. People don’t like it, they move. Why?”

“There’s definitely some visible and intense public underage drinking happening out front right now.”

“Shit,” Acorn said. “Is it those goth kids?” Xie pushed hir hair out of hir eyes. Acorn has really long hair and a beard that increases in both length and glossy volume every time I see hir.  Xie wears mascara to shows. Tonight xie had on a Carly Rae Jepsen shirt and a plaid skirt. 

“Yeah,” I said. “Nobody from Compton, but definitely under eighteen. You want me to go tell them to come back here and be more discreet?”

“Just like, get them some water and tell them to chill. They’re gonna pass out before the show even starts, or start moshing and hurting someone. I hate when there’s too many teens at shows. No offense,” xie added. “I forget you’re a teen because you’re chill.”

“I don’t drink much. If I did I’d probably be rowdier. It is a teen band tonight. Or like, two, actually. With Quince Quest.”

“Maybe I’ll make some food and cultivate a chill pre-show vibe and get some calories in the kids. Some bread. It’s not that I don’t want them to enjoy music.” Acorn prodded the little fire that was starting in the pit. “Just like, read the agreements for the space that we put on all the doors of the space, you know?”

The agreements, for Goat Mansion, on all the doors, were as follows:

NO NAZIS OR RAPISTS.

DO NOT fucking come to a show looking to start a fucking fight. 

NO COPS

Don’t get fucking wasted before 10 PM. 

Don’t touch anyone without asking

NO SMOKING OR DRINKING ON THE STOOP. Come to the backyard.

DO NOT MESS AROUND ON THE STREET! Come to the backyard.

IF YOU MAKE A MESS HELP CLEAN IT.

IF THERE IS NO TOILET PAPER, OR THE TOILET FLOODS, PLEASE YELL FOR ASSISTANCE. DO NOT SNEAK AWAY. 

FOR REAL ABSOLUTELY NO DRINKING OR SMOKING ON STOOP. FOR REAL. THERE IS A BACKYARD.

It was a pretty concise list that covered most things that anyone cared about. And it was pretty easy to follow, though of course I had no way of knowing if any nazis or rapists ignored the first bullet point. 

I went around the corner of the house and into the kitchen. I filled a big old plastic pitcher that seemed relatively clean with tap water and grabbed a sleeve of plastic cups from under the sink. I knew where everything was here, even though I didn’t have any friends who lived here any more except Acorn. Last year I had been the one to clean the kitchen for the first time in a decade and stock it with plastic cups. If you don’t have cups everyone ends up drinking out of the tap like dogs or just getting disgustingly dehydrated. 

“Hey,” I called to the goth kids, stepping out on the front porch, “You all look like you might need some water soon.”

“Thanks,” the mesh shirt girl said. 

“You’re starting early. Can you bring the party around back? We don’t like annoying neighbor people too much. They call the cops sometimes,” I said. “There’s more room back there, too.” I felt okay bossing them because none of the goth kids would have the nerve to question the authority of someone who was wearing safety pin earrings like they were. 

“No problem,” the girl holding the blood bag of wine said. She giggled to her friends, probably about how messy they were being. 

I sat around with the goths by the smoking baby bonfire and smoked a bowl alone before I saw Ian. He was walking quickly around the corner of the house, looking like the human embodiment of that cat meme where the cat is grimacing. I got up and jogged after him. 

“What’s the deal with Ken?” I asked, catching him by the elbow. “Heard he like left and didn’t come back?”

“Don’t fucking ask,” Ian said. He had glitter makeup on, which I thought was cute, if a little 2012. He looked really good. “Ken’s fucking gone as far as I’m concerned. Which is whatever. We knew this day was coming.”

“Wait, Rocketpizza is still performing, right?”

“Yeah,” Ian said. “Some kid from Centralia who’s playing drums for Quince Quest is here, she said she’d do drums for me.  We went over the basic stuff with the songs earlier. She can’t be any worse than Ken would be. He was getting plastered at noon when I went over there today. I have no idea where he is.”

“Dude, that fucking sucks,” I said. 

“I mean, you guys were all absolutely correct about him. I’m stressed right now but I’ll be fine.”

“Where’s swimmer boy?”

“We broke up.”

“Shit, dude.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll process with you tomorrow.”

“You need help with merch?”

“Yes, absolutely. Later, though. No point right now. After the show. Right now we’re doing music setup shit since we’re on first.”

“At least you’ll have a crowd.”

“These druggy Seattle kids?” Ian rolled his eyes.

“They’re just drunk. I’m working on hydrating them.”

The sun was going down, and more people were arriving. I put Ian’s merch in a taped up box underneath the table by the door that had been set up to collect people’s pay-what-you-can donations to Goat Mansion. I wanted to talk to him more, but it was clear that wasn’t gonna happen. I sat with the table. Acorn was drawing smiley faces on the hands of people who paid. People who didn’t pay and didn’t get smiley faces wouldn’t get kicked out, but they might get snarked at by someone if they were being obnoxious and they wouldn’t be allowed to drink any house alcohol. Everyone expected the show to start one to three hours after the posted start time, but everyone turned up at the time on the posters anyway to smoke or catch up with people or drop their backpacks and walk eighteen blocks away to the store to buy beer. The sun slanted through the windows like liquid gold and someone put a VHS of Fire Walk With Me on in the living room, where it already smelled like cigarettes. It was all cis men in there, who seemed like they all knew each other and might be shitheads, so I stayed outside once the merch was set up. Everyone in the backyard was vivid shades of gold and pink and brown against the bright green of the trees. The smoke was rising more and more out of the fire pit. That was when I saw the guy from King David’s. Orsino. He was getting out of a pickup truck.

His hair was still fucked up and wispy orange and crackly from bleach, and he had a fucked up little mustache still, but he was wearing a different stupid shirt. This one was black, had a big gray alien head on it, and it said ROSWELL. It was tighter around his chest and stomach and arms than the dolphin shirt had been at the diner. He was wearing ripped up pants that terminated just below his knee. They looked like they’d been chewed by dogs. His calves were thick and covered in dark hair. He had on hiking boots with wool socks. He didn’t see me. As soon as he got out of the car, he turned back and started talking to someone on the driver’s side of the car. He was still somewhere between pretty hot and extremely hot. 

I saw the person get out on the other side of the car and realized that it was Jukebox. Jukebox had a guitar case with them and stuck around for just a second before heading into the garage, where I knew that Ian was setting up. Orsino said something to them and then walked toward the house, lighting a cigarette as he went.

I wondered what Orsino’s personality was like. I didn’t know Orsino at all. But I felt something about him already—something sort of like what Therese feels for Carol when she first sees Carol in The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith or Carol (2015). When her eyes go wide and she knows it doesn’t matter what happens next, because the important thing has already happened. She’s seen her. Or maybe that was dramatic, but like, I was a little stoned. I wondered if I should go say hi. 

“James!” Opal shouted at me from across the yard. 

I looked over to see Opal and Barb and Goober coming towards me, accompanied by a dude I didn’t know. Opal was wheeling their chair over the mangled grass. I hoped that there weren’t any nails around that might puncture the tires.

“Oh hey,” I said, waving. 

“Jamie!” Barb rushed in and gave me a hug. She has pink short hair and lots of sun freckles and deep wrinkles around her eyes. If you ignore her skin, she looks like she’s about sixteen. She’s always sort of manic and I think she’s really smart but you probably have to wait until four in the morning for her to start talking about smart people things. She reminds me of a version of my mom that took up dance and punk music and boxing instead of becoming a teacher. 

“This is Duke,” Opal said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the man. I looked up at him. He didn’t look trans. He had a really curly head of long back hair and a thick beard and a lot of tattoos and smiley eyes. He looked like a biker that a country singer would date.

“Sup,” Duke said. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re meeting everyone tonight,” Goober said, throwing her blond hair over one shoulder. “James works at Compton House too, with the teen council thing.”

“Hey Duke,” I said. “Nice to meet you. You like OVID?” I gave him a man handshake, with a firm grip. He looked like he would respect that.

“Yeah, since they got started I’ve come to almost every show,” Duke said. “Me and Stacey go way back.”

“Barb used to date Stacey, right?” I asked. “Is that how you guys know each other?” I wasn’t going to allude to the fact that Barb and Duke were fucking. 

“Kind of,” Barb said. She sat down on a stump next to me. “I love that we’re all here at this show together. I feel a great kind of continuity.” She grinned up at Duke, who looked at her with the most disgustingly lovey gaze I have ever seen in this world. I looked at Opal, who shrugged. 

“You seen Ian yet?” I asked Opal. 

“No. What’s up?” Opal could tell in my voice that something was wrong. 

“Ken is drunk somewhere and Ian is gonna do the show with a replacement drummer,” I said. 

“What? Who?”

“Some kid from the other band. Quince Quest.”

“The fuck he is. I’m gonna drum for him. I have to join his band,” Opal said. They started rolling their chair backward and pivoting it toward the garage.

“Maybe later,” I said. “Not tonight. He’s stressed. Swimmer boy troubles. Drummer troubles. Too much. He’ll snap at you.”

“I know his songs, dude,” Opal said. “I know he’s stressed, but I can do it better than a quince kid. I’ve been practicing on the drums at Barb’s.” 

“Do you need help getting to the garage?” I asked. There was a lot of gravel between here and there.

“I’m good, dude.” Opal turned away from me, and I felt a little abandoned.

“Do you want backup?”

“Let them go talk to him,” Goober said. “You’ll be all touchy feely and Opal will just boss him. That’s what he needs.”

“You said it,” Opal yelled over their shoulder. 

Duke turned to me. His eyes were irrepressibly crinkly. “So James. Barb talks about you and Opal and Compton House all the time. How long have you been on the Compton House teen council? What do you think of it?”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to give this guy too much of a leg up on the competition if he was really applying to be director. “I mean, it’s very important. We did an awareness training for a church two weeks ago about mental health and teens. I feel like I’m connected to local politics and stuff, even if it means I know the dirt about everyone.”

Barb laughed. 

“You remind me of me. I was involved in the first committee for Ladyfest when it happened here in 2000,” Duke said. “I was on security. I sat in on all the meetings for planning.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Continuity.” 

I looked away from Duke and Barb, hoping they’d see someone they knew and go talk to them. 

***

It was two hours later when word spread slowly through the mass of people that the show was starting. The sun had gone down and I had three mosquito bites, even though it should have been too cold. There was standing water in one of the barrels behind Goat Mansion, and that always meant the mosquitos survived longer here than anywhere. Everyone but me was getting drunk. I hadn’t gotten any closer to Orsino, though he’d caught my eye just before everyone went down to the garage and crowded in through the single side door. I thought I saw him smile, but I could have been wrong. 

The room was dark and ugly and packed. There are lights on the stage and then a tangle of wires near the stage that some fire safety expert was supposed to probably evaluate at some point after the Ghost Ship fire, but I don’t think it ever happened. There’s a lot of random piles of shit near the door that should be a main point of egress, and people sit on it like it’s benches at a ball game. It’s definitely not structurally stable. The lights that shine down on the tiny little stage are beautiful. Tonight there was pink and red gels over them, so it looked like a sex party or a weird pretty Hell. 

Ian was wearing his fishnet arm wraps, a lot of glitter, and Goober’s leather miniskirt that that she’d worn to Pride in June. His wrists were covered in bangles. His chest was bare. His hair was sort of flopping over his face. He was fumbling with a lot of wires onstage. Opal was behind the drums. I hadn’t actually heard Opal play before, since they’d only started after they moved to Barb’s house. I didn’t know if they were good or not, but I guessed that they might be if they were going up. Opal was pretty clear-headed and wouldn’t put themselves on the spot if they thought they’d fail. Devon had on his normal clothes and looked pissed as fuck, but he was tuning his bass just the same. 

“ROCKETPIZZA!!!!!” Barb yelled. Some of the goths yelled too, as did the cis men who had been watching a movie inside. There were suddenly a lot of people around me, and I was worried about my feet getting stepped on by the dudes with the steel toed boots. I’m not dumb enough to wear non-sturdy footwear to a show, but I’m small.

Ian looked into the crowd, squinting. I don’t know if he knows Barb’s voice well enough to recognize a screech. He dropped some wires and stepped to the mic. 

“HEY BITCHES AND BABES AND FAGGOTS,” he yelled into the crowd. His voice got soft on the last word. There was a mix of cheers and uncomfortable muttering. Ian was oblivious to the latter. “HOW ARE YOU DOING?”

Barb and Duke both bellowed at the stage, incoherent jumbled exuberance. Old punks at least know how to bellow. 

“I’LL TELL YOU HOW I’M DOING,” Ian yelled into the mic, which twanged painfully over the speakers. “MY BOYFRIEND AND I JUST BROKE UP AND I LOST MY OLD DRUMMER BECAUSE HE IS A DUMBASS.”

There were some confused boos and apologetic noises, particularly from the goths near the front of the stage. All the teen goths were pretty far gone. I saw one of them swaying in her heels.

“BUT THAT IS OKAY,” Ian continued. “ROCKETPIZZA DIED TONIGHT. I LOOK GREAT. OPAL LOOKS GREAT ON DRUMS. GIVE IT UP FOR OPAL.”

I yelled at the top of my lungs, feeling like it was a kind of weird ecstatic prayer. The guy with a beard next to me moved away from me in surprise.

“WE ARE A NEW GROUP NOW. OUR NAME IS MISS SAN JUAN AND THE DUSTIES. YOU’RE HERE TO WITNESS THE BIRTH OF A GOOFY NEW QUEERCORE BAND. ISN’T THAT EXCITING?”

Ian was good at riling up a crowd. People were getting more interested in this seventeen year old twink yelling at them. 

“ALSO YOU WILL PROBABLY WITNESS THE DEATH OF MY VOCAL CHORDS BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO SCREAM MY GUTS OUT. THIS IS A NEW SONG. IT IS CALLED FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE.” Ian shook his head and smiled and blinked in the way that had made me fall sort of in love with him when we were fifteen. 

The drunk baby goths went hog wild, and I screamed at the top of my lungs again and whistled through the gap in my teeth, like my grandmother had taught me to do when I was five.

Then Ian opened his mouth to sing. 

(insert here: a piece of torn notebook paper, with the title: FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE LYRICS)

THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA SHAKE ME 

FROM THE POOL OF BLACK INK

ATOP YOUR FIRE ESCAPE

I BREATHE IN THE STINK

OF YOUR SMELLY BALLS

I FEEL NOTHING AT ALL 

THE PLANETS WERE ALIGNED

NOW WE’RE BADLY COMBINED

SOLO QUIERO LLEVAR TUS BRAGAS

SOLO QUIERO TOCAR TU BOCA

SOLO QUIERO TENER TUS LLAGAS

PARA TERMINAR ESTA EPOCA

I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE

WE ARE SMASHING THE WORLD

I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE

YOUR DEPRESSED BITCH GIRL

BOY 

SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING

BOY

SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING

FILL MY MIND WITH SMOKE 

SMOKE IT IN YOUR BONG

GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE

SO LONG SO LONG

WE DON’T WANT IT OR NEED IT

I NEED YOU TO BEAT IT

END THE WORLD

END THE WORLD

END THE WORLD

FUCK 

(end paper)

When Ian’s set ended fifteen minutes later, the pit had fully opened up. 

People were swaying and had been punching and pushing into each other. I’d gotten slammed against the wall twice and had been shoved into someone’s armpit four times. Which was like, not normal for an opening band. Usually people just stood awkwardly staring with their PBRs in their hands, rocking a little or jamming their heads if the band was good. But some combination of everyone already being wasted and of Opal’s drumming—which was actually really good—and of Ian jumping fully into the air…everyone got electrified somehow. I felt my B.O swelling up toward the ceiling with everyone else’s and the heat from us all supercharging the air like it was some kind of ancient magically charged sweat house made of old cedar in the deep wilderness of the Russian steppe. Ian’s glitter was dripping down his chest in waves. I felt my own shirt soaking with the sweat. My lungs hurt from yelling, and I was reeling still. I watched Ian turn and unplug his amp and walk offstage just before the crush of bodies trying to get out into the cold air totally obscured my view of him. I tried to keep my head above the crowd, thanking god that I wasn’t super sensitive to noise, smells, or sensory overstimulation.

“That was incredible,” a voice behind me said. I didn’t recognize it. I turned slightly. Jukebox January was behind me, smiling. Their chin hairs were darker than I remembered them.  They were shorter than me. They had smudged pink eyeliner in one long band around their eyes. Their shirt was torn so I could see one of their nipples through the fabric.

“Yeah,” I said. “It got so hot in here so fast. We gotta wait a bit for the air to cool down before yours, huh.”

“That set!” Jukebox exclaimed. “Like, that was phenomenal! So good and raw but also like, they’re real! They’re so good. We gotta get this kid a record deal so fast if he wants to sell out! He’s your friend, right?”

I smiled. I felt so happy for Ian. He loved OVID. Tonight had been hard, but it was going to turn out so good for him.  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m James. We go to school together. I’ve known him a long ass time. He’s so good.”

“What’s going on with the band?” Jukebox asked. Their teeth were all showing in their smile. “Some shuffling stuff? Do you think the current situation will hold together? They literally sounded so so good.”

“I literally don’t even know,” I said. “But he loves you, he loves OVID. Like he and his  followed you to the Gorge this summer and then down to the Bay when you were on tour. You should talk to him.” I was glad I was able to be so chill when my heart was pounding into my ears from the adrenaline. 

“Let’s go,” Jukebox said. “I gotta touch base with my bandmates in a second but I wanna give him props. What’s his full name? Does he go by Miss San Juan? Or she?”

“Ian,” I said. “Ian Arroyo. And he uses he/him, at least for now.”

“Cool. What about you?”

“James,” I said. I led Jukebox out into the yard. The cool night air with the smell of decay and everything hit my skin and my mouth all at the same time. It was a second before I saw Ian over by the truck with Opal in the dark. Opal was smoking, and Ian was moving something in the bed of the truck. I screamed loud and high pitched as we got close so he could hear me. 

“That was incredible, bitch!” 

Ian turned. He smiled weakly. “I’m so so so shaking,” he yelled back. His bare chest was getting goosebumps in the cold. He was so beautiful. 

“Look who I brought,” I yelled, thrusting a thumb back at Jukebox, who lifted a hand in greeting. Ian stood up immediately. He leapt over the side of the truck bed to land on both feet in the gravel in front of us. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” Jukebox said. “That was incredible. I wanted to make sure you knew. I’m Jukebox.”

“I know,” Ian said. “I can’t wait for your set. I’m so so tired but I’m gonna stay here till the end.”

“I literally haven’t ever played drums live before,” Opal said.

“You were great for all that,” Jukebox said.

I turned away from them and turned toward the bonfire. I tried to make out through the dark who was still here that I knew. People were dancing a little near the fire and there was a cluster of lit cigarette ends floating in the shadows just beyond my field of vision.

“Come hang out with me,” Jukebox was saying to Ian. “My friends are over here. My girlfriend Robin was loving your set too, but she has issues with moshing so had to step out when it got intense. Someone threw a bottle and it nearly hit her.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Opal said. 

We moved over toward the patch of the yard where Jukebox’s friends were. I could smell the smoke and the blackberries and the wood and sweat and smoke and I felt like I was still on some kind of crazy high. Orsino was sitting there, like I knew he would be. There was a space next to him on the log he was sitting on. He looked up and smirked at me and I sat down next to him without a second thought. 

[seven-oomen]

First, I swear I’ll explain about the picture in a minute.

Next, it’s totally okay, I understand completely.  I, too, am prone to being a total space cadet sometimes.  My top skills are remembering/thinking of things when I’m in no position to act on them (composing review questions while at work, thinking of phone call I forgot to make while driving, realizing I didn’t show my mom the sonogram my friend sent me right as I fall asleep, etc.)  Really, I’m just happy finding others to talk about this stuff with who seem to appreciate and enjoy it as much as I do. :D

Omg, I’m SO EXCITED to see the necklace turn up, however that happens!  And as someone who 90% of the time also uses drinkware featuring superheroes and other nerdery for their alcohol, I very much approve Derek’s choices, whether it makes it into the story or not.  I also enjoyed both versions of the chapter flashback, but the first was definitely more “Oh My…”, and the redo more straight up fluffy and adorable. 

And I love all that stuff in the ideas tag!  With Corey there’s so much potential stuff that can be done with someone with those types of powers.  I admit I don’t know too much about exactly how his are supposed to work. his powers are due to genetics and not outside forces in this, could it perhaps be connected to how Gerard has been able to do some of the things he’s done?   (Could the wolves track him while invisible in the show?)  And oh, my God, that is a total Moon Moon moment (resisting the urge to make a comment about why Ian was trying to fit a ball in his mouth).  I choose to believe that Noah and Chris coordinated to trick Peter into doing that and managing to get it on camera.  They threaten to make it part of the family Christmas card.  Peter only agrees if they make it so that all the pictures used embarrass everyone equally.  Which is where some of the BTS type stuff could come in.  (My lord, they are all such dorks.  I mean, I follow Ian, Linden, JR, and Hoechlin on Insta and or Twitter, so we been knew, really, but still. XD )  And I’m all for any plot points or incidents that allow Lydia to showcase just how awesome she truly is.  Also, I will never turn down an idea that involves puppy piles and cuddle puddles.  I’ve been in this fandom too damn long not to have developed a deep-seated love for damaged characters getting the affection and comfort they deserve.

I’m so glad you’re enjoying the examples of my often questionable musical tastes. ;D  I think I first heard that song on an anime music video (for LOVELESS I think, of all things), and I was just like “well this is catchy as hell”.  As someone whose musical tastes are all over the gd place, I like to imagine they all have some genre that they’re secretly a fan of but don’t want to admit to because it might clash with their grunge-y punk image (the other two totally know anyway.)  Speculatively I’d say boy bands for Peter, bubblegum pop/pop-punk for Chris, and classic (read: dad) rock for Noah, but I welcome other opinions. 

And jsyk, it really makes me happy to know that my reviews are helpful for more than just story ideas.  Which partially brings me to the picture I’ve attached.  I work in a pet supply store, and the item on the right is a dog toy we carry and every time I look at it, all I can think of is how much it reminds me of Deucalion.  Like, I can’t not see it at this point.  And nobody I work with would have the slightest idea what I’m talking about, so I finally made this so that I could share it those that might get why it’s so funny to me.  So here it is.  And if you are still in need of things for distractions, here is a list of some random incidents that have (mostly) occurred at my work in the last few days:

1) Someone left a 4 Iron in one of our shopping carts along the far wall of the store.  We have no clue where it came from, we aren’t anywhere near any kind of golf or sporting goods store.  (I checked and there was no sign of blood on it, so no one was ditching a weapon on us or something.)

2) I walked into our warehouse and asked “why does it smell like sparklers in here?”, saw a coworker standing looking out the back door, and walked over to see that there was a car on fire about a block away in another parking lot.  (The fire department was already on scene putting it out, it looked like it started near the front driver’s side tire?)

3) A child ate one of the fancy dog treats we have on display (luckily that one is mainly yoghurt and peppermint extract), and then try to drink from the fountain we have set up for any dogs that come in.  I don’t think mom ever noticed.

4) We now carry a special, highly filtered, and ph-balanced (and overpriced) bottled cat water (no really), that seems simultaneously like a brilliant idea (because UTIs), but also somehow one of the whitest things I’ve ever seen (and I say this as a white person who grew up basically middle-class).

5) One of the smoke alarms in my apartment started doing the dead battery warning beep at around midnight Sunday night.  I unfortunately was out of the size I needed to replace it, so I just popped out the one that was in it.  Turns out it’s also hardwired, so that did nothing.  It beeped the entire night.  I would have gotten worried about my neighbors, but they had one that they let beep for like a week back in Feb, so I decided I didn’t care.  When I stopped to buy a replacement I also ended up buying two bags of candy with the justification that they were on sale and I might need them for the next chapter.

6) Our pet bathing area re-opened, which meant we finally got a visit from one of my fave canine customers.  His name is Jax, he’s an American Akita, and he is a gigantic, sweet, bear of a dog.  Seriously, he comes to about my hip (I’m right around 5'4), weighs around 190lbs, and is a beautiful dark brown/black brindle all over.  He is also one of the most calm, chill dogs I have ever met (he’s been coming in for years), and I love to watch other people react to seeing him for the first time.

7) While searching around my music files and Spotify for suggestions, I got distracted and ended up treating my neighbors to an impromptu concert that consisted mostly of 00s divas and 60s bubblegum pop (oddly, a lot of Herman’s Hermits and Ohio Express has a very similar vibe to Bowling for Soup, to me at least), because I had headphones in, and didn’t realize I’d started singing along for…a while.  I did consider apologizing for that, at least, but ultimately decided to just ignore that it happened.

Anyway, I hope you are feeling a bit better now, and that some of the weirdness that is my life at least provides some entertainment.  And that the therapy session at least feels like something you think will help in the long run, even if it sucks massively right now.  I’m so proud of you for going, and sticking with it (I know so many who need to who don’t, for whatever reason).  It is hard, and exhausting, and I am always awed by those that are determined to see it through.  (Sorry if any of that comes across weird.  My automatic supportive defaults tend to be humor and awkward sincerity, and I always worry that one will come across as the other and vice versa.  Social anxiety is a hell of a drug.)  So, I’m gonna go ahead and wrap up the verbal flailing for now, please enjoy whenever you see this tomorrow (I think?  I’m terrible about keeping track of that sort of thing.  Also, how is most of Europe just one time zone?!  …anyway…)

Ok, I need to find out where I can get that crocodile/Alligator. for uh, for Mo...

Yeah for Mo.

(It’s for me, I would totally buy a dog toy if I thought it looked adorable.)

I definitely toned that scene down, though I kept some necessary exposition where Chris thinks on what happened between them. Might include some teenage raunchiness later, as someone pointed out to me, Peter would definitely be like that, as would Noah (probably). Chris would definitely be more reserved, he barely got a sex education aside from abstinence. ( Because I don’t see Gerard as the type of person who’d give his son the talk, honestly.)  

And as someone who also drinks alcohol in superhero or Halloween glasses and mugs, I had to throw Derek’s very mature choice in there. Batman mug stays XD

I’ll admit, that was exactly what I was thinking with Corey’s power and how I could use it in the story. So I’m curious to see where I’ll go with it eventually, but yeah, that’s on my idea list.

.. must resist Ian & JR ballsy jokes.. you are not twelve Ben.

I am.

I really am. A twelve-year-old in a twenty-nine-year-old body.

I bet Ian wanted to prove what he could fit in there. He wanted to show some ballsy moves. It’s practice for-

Okay, I’ll stop.

And they are the biggest dorks, I follow Ian, JR, Colton, and Holland on and my lord, they’re such dorks. Definitely following Linden now too though. hehe.

I can see them trying that trick with Jackson, Malia, Ben, and Scott as well. Scott just falls face first and tries to fit a tennis ball into his mouth. Ben just looks at the tennis ball, figures that ain’t gonna fit and balances it on his face instead. Malia opens her mouth, notices the camera coming out, and just poses while smiling at the camera. Jackson though pretends to not understand what he has to do until Chris shows him how it’s done and then Jackson quickly points to Chris and while Noah films it laughing his ass off.

They make an awesome Christmas card with all of them doing something with that tennis ball.

Speculatively I’d say boy bands for Peter, bubblegum pop/pop-punk for Chris, and classic (read: dad) rock for Noah, but I welcome other opinions.

SO MUCH YES.

Also, Nickelback for Chris & Never gonna give you up. They're guilty pleasures. I would also like to suggest for Peter, either the Spice girls or like the Vengaboys. Gets him going but only when he’s alone at home and he’s wearing headphones. Because God forbids someone else hears it too. And I kinda wanna say Baby Metal for Noah. Idk seems like that might fit him and it’s hilarious to think about. Some headcanons don’t need to make sense.

Also, just for shits and giggles.

Caramelldansen in English and Swedish. 

Makes these dads (and Melissa and Derek) move and dance around the new house like crazy, Ben joins in, because of the funny voices. 

The teenagers are mortified.

MORTIFIED.

This made me so happy, 

3) A child ate one of the fancy dog treats we have on display (luckily that one is mainly yoghurt and peppermint extract), and then try to drink from the fountain we have set up for any dogs that come in.  I don’t think mom ever noticed.

I feel like that’s basically toddler behavior. Also, Ben did this at some point. One hundred percent. He walked into the pet section at a store and started eating the dog treats. Chris didn’t notice, Peter did, asked him about it and went; well, it’s probably not toxic for him, so whatever. He did film it. Noah and Chris yelled at him.

4) We now carry a special, highly filtered, and ph-balanced (and overpriced) bottled cat water (no really), that seems simultaneously like a brilliant idea (because UTIs), but also somehow one of the whitest things I’ve ever seen (and I say this as a white person who grew up basically middle-class).

That is the whitest shit I’ve ever heard. And yes I’m white too from lower middle class. But still...

But maybe that’s because I live in a country where I can drink tap water so that’s what Mo gets in his fountain.

And your stories made me smile my friend, every single one. <3 thank you for sharing these.

I wish I had funny ones really. Only one I can think of is some of my customers I run into as a tech support guy.

Customer calls me to tell me they don’t have internet. I ask, “Where’s your modem and how is it plugged into the network?”

Customer: It’s still in the box I received it in.. it’s wireless..”

Me: 

Cue ten-minute argument on how it’s not wireless like that and how he needs to install his modem... yeah. People and technology...

But anyway, I’ll stop rambling now because it’s 1 am here and I need to go to sleep again.

1 am is in the Amsterdam/Berlin timezone where I live in.

That is 6 pm in NYC

And 4 pm in California.

So I am 7-9 hours ahead of the US, to give you an idea about timezones.

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Liquid Strength-Carl Gallagher Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Some swearing, underage drinking, and Gallaghers being Gallaghers

  Carl and Y/N started dating shortly after he got out of juvie, which shocked everyone since Carl was convinced that he was a real gangster and Y/N was the shining example of innocence. As far as everyone knew, the girl had never sworn, drank, did any sort of drug nor sexual act, or committed any sort of crime. Y/N was too smart for her own good and too sweet so how Carl convinced her to go out with him was a mystery to everyone.

   “So, was it really scary in juvie?” Y/N asked.

   She and Carl were walking down the street near their neighborhood. It was a Thursday afternoon and they had just gotten out of school but neither of them wanted to go home. Carl had tried to convince her to cut class with him but she refused, so they both stayed in class. It was a decent day in Chicago but it was still Chicago after all.

   Carl shrugged. “Nothin that I couldn’t deal with, ma.”

   He smirked as a blush crept onto her cheeks. The only reason he called her that was because it made her bashful and he was proud that only he could make her blush like that...at least, he better be the only one making his girl blush like that.

   “Really? Because, I’ve seen a lot of Scared Straight and I couldn’t imagine...”

   “Well, that show is a ton of bs to be honest. To survive, you just gotta get with the right people.”

   “Like you did?”

   “Exactly.”

   Y/N smiled softly and leaned her head on his shoulder as they continued walking around the park together. She often asked him questions about juvie and Carl always used it as an opportunity to brag. It was one of the only things he thought he could do to keep the gorgeous girl on his arm. Plus, the way her y/e/c eyes shimmered when he told her a story about he participated in jumping someone or the stunned look she would make whenever he would talk about protecting her from anyone was worth it. He would do anything for Y/N, in fact, Carl thought he loved her.

    Before they both knew it, they were standing in front of Y/N’s house. The sound of Rihanna’s newest song was blaring from her sister’s, Y/S/N, room, signalling that she was the only one home, which was good since Y/N’s parents couldn’t stand Carl, they wanted the best for their youngest daughter. Y/N turned to Carl, staring at the tips of her pristine white Converse sneakers that clashed with beat up black boots Carl wore.

   “Thanks for walking me home again, Carl,” Y/N said.

   “Anything for you, ma, you know you’re my number one,” Carl replied with a grin.

   Y/N shook her head. “You’re a lot sweeter than people think, Gallagher.”

   “Only for you, I gotta keep my cred up.”

   “Whatever.” Y/N leaned forward to kiss Carl on the cheek, but he quickly grabbed her face and pressed his lips harshly against hers. She smiled into it, butterflies fluttering like mad in the pit of her stomach when she gently pushed him away. “Carl.”    “I can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

   “Thank you, but I should get going.”

   “Wait. I’m having a party tonight but it won’t be right if my queen isn’t at my side.”

   “I don’t know, my curfew’s at eleven.”

   “F--k your curfew, your parents should know that you’re in safe hands as long as you’re wtih me.”

   “It’s your hands that my parents are worried about. I don’t know, Carl.”

   “I won’t stop asking until you say yes.”

   Y/N shot him one of her rare annoyed looks. There was a short list of things that Carl could do to draw that look onto her face and one of them was pestering her. She never snapped on him or anything, but he would get the silent treatment occasionally and he couldn’t stand it when she wouldn’t talk to him. However, if he pestered her just enough, she would cave into whatever he was trying to talk her into.

  “Fine, I’ll text you later.”

  “See you then, ma.”

   A few hours later, the Gallagher house was packed with inebriated teenagers trying to dance, play drinking games, and make out. Fiona, Lip, and Ian were gone for the night so it was just Debbie, Carl, and everyone they invited. Even though Carl tried to remain calm, he couldn’t help but be anxious since Y/N hadn’t shown up yet even though she did text him that he was on her way ten minutes ago and she only lived a couple of blocks away from him. Had she gotten jumped? Carl knew he should’ve sent Ron to escort her to the party. If something had happened to her, Carl would...

   “Sorry I’m late,” Y/N said as she walked up to Carl and kissed him on the cheek. “I ran into some girls from school and we all walked her together.” 

   Carl wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “It’s fine, I was just starting to get worried about you, ma. Have a drink.” Carl handed her a beer and she wrinkled her nose.

   “Carl...”

   “Come on, Y/N, don’t be a pussy,” Debbie teased.

   “I would say she is what she eats, but that’s my job.”

   “CARL!” Y/N exclaimed while the people around them dissolved into laughter.

   “What? It’s true, ma.”

    Y/N rolled her eyes at him but took a swig of the beer, not wanting to look weak in front of everyone else. The drink was foul, but she managed to finish it. “I don’t know how your dad is addicted to this stuff, no offense.”

   “None taken.”

   That one beer eventually turned into three and before anyone knew it, Y/N was drunk. She would childishly tug on Carl’s arm, insisting that he danced with her and by dancing, she meant twerking on him, which everyone was surprised she could do. Y/N spoke with people she normally would have never even looked at and she was overall a fairly happy drunk and Carl liked it. Somewhere during the party, Y/N wandered off with some girls and Carl was just chilling on the couch with Ron and some other guys.

   “...and then I pulled this out,” Carl said as he pulled out his gun, “and the wimp pissed his pants.”

   The crowd around him laughed or “oohed” in aw.

   “All over a pencil?” Debbie asked.

   Carl rolled his eyes. “Yes, over a pencil, Debs, no one shows me no disrespect.”

   “None,” Ron added.

   Debbie’s eyes widened but she walked away before she said anything to set Carl off. Carl ignored her and continued to tell stories about terrorizing people inside and outside of juvie when Bianca Holmes sat on his lap. 

   “That’s so amazing of you, Carl, you’re so bad,” Bianca said, running her French-tipped nails along his hoodie.

   “Yeah, I know.” Carl began looking around for Y/N. “Has anyone seen Y/N?”    Bianca grabbed Carl’s face and forced him to look at her. “It’s rude not to look at people in the eye, Carl.”

   Bianca was the school whore, even beating out Debbie’s former friends. Her face was heavily made up in order to make herself look presentable and she wore a low cut tank top and the tiniest pair of jean shorts that anyone had ever seen. She ran a hand through her trashy extensions and smiled at Carl.

   “I’ve got a girl, Bianca, and she’s much more of a dimepiece than you,” Carl hissed.

   “Wanna bet?” Bianca snapped.

    Carl opened his mouth to respond when suddenly, Bianca was snatched off of Carl’s lap. He looked up and saw an enraged Y/N shoving Bianca away from her. Carl was in as much shock as the other witnesses as Bianca straightened.

   “Back off, Bianca!” Y/N slurred.

   “Or what? You’ll hurt me? Please, we all know Carl’s with you because he feels bad for you. He needs a real woman.” Bianca straightened up, practically shoving her exaggerated chest in Y/N’s face.

   “I don’t see a woman, I see a whore who has contracted nearly every STD under the sun.”

   The crowd around them gasped and Bianca charged Y/N. Fortunately, Y/N managed to grab Bianca by the hair and begin repeatedly punching her in the face. Bianca got a couple of scratches in, but it was obvious that Y/N was going to beat her. The final straw was when Bianca somehow got Y/N in a headlock, and Y/N grabbed the top of her head and yanked out part of her sew in. Bianca screeched as she released Y/N and staggered away. When Y/N straightened up, she delivered a final blow to Bianca’s gut, sending the girl to the floor. Y/N had scratches and bruises all over her face and body, but she had never looked cooler before in her life than when she stared down at Bianca with pure rage in her eyes.

   “Come near Carl again, and I’ll kick you a** so hard, your grandkids will feel it.”

   Bianca shook her head amidst the applause and Carl slowly walked over to Y/N, still in shock. Y/N turned to Carl and smiled, only for Carl to smash his lips into hers. She tasted like Miller Light and mint.

   “That was so hot,” he whispered. “I didn’t know you could fight like that.”

   “Had to show Bianca that you are mine.” Y/N placed a sloppy kiss on his lips again.

   “I can’t wait to tell you about this when you’re sober.” 

[zalrb]

Back to the Beginning {TVD 1x01 Review}

OK! So we’re starting from the beginning, every Friday between 9pm and 10. Considering that I haven’t like sat down to watch a full episode of the past seasons of TVD in a few years and my memory might not be the greatest I think I will start with my usual disclaimer: I will write my thoughts in real time so if I make a mistake at the beginning of this post, it will be corrected by the end. There will be anti-Damon and anti-Delena sentiments (I’m only mentioning these two because it’s the beginning of the series), I will probably bring up other shows and call attention to misogynoir, racism, anti-blackness etc. Gotta admit, I’m a little excited to start from the beginning, it’s been a really long time. Ready? Let’s go. 1. OK Stefan’s voiceover over the foggy woods is still HELLA campy though. I remember I saw this and was like, Fadi (my friend), are you really making me watch this? YES. She was so fucking insistent. 2. Yeah the foggy night and dark road, it’s very horror movie, very cinematic. 3. Them hitting Damon is reminiscent of “I Know What You Did Last Summer.” They even gave Damon a growling noise when he feeds. 4. Listening to the score for season 1, really emphasizes how much they misused the cues in season 8. The scary cue works here because people are running, getting snatched up on a dark foggy night, it isn’t just walking through the Salvatore house. 5. Jenna is legit a mess, like, right away, Elena is like drinking coffee and really chill, like do you not have a presentation today? Go. 6. Damon sending the crow to hit Bonnie’s car is like … Literally from the minute he’s introduced, he’s terrorizing her. 7. Also Kat is a stronger actress than Nina, even the way Bonnie says, “And I was like put this woman in a HOME already”, she has more presence than Nina. 8. “She looks a hot … can I say tranny mess?” “No that’s over.” And totally inappropriate. I completely missed that before. 9. LOL Elena’s “No comment, I’m not going to say anything” when Caroline walks away is delivered really well, yo you two secretly hate each other and that should’ve been explored more. 10. Stefan’s jeans actually look a little ridiculous in the pilot, though. Like they don’t look like they fit well. When Bonnie and Elena sees him in the office. 11. Jeremy is legit like a drug dealer though. That’s kind of a big deal. 12. “You need to chill yourself” …. … … Did KW and JP like consult any teens when they wrote this script? 13. And her fight with Jeremy is actually pretty muted. I’m an only child but my closest friends are older siblings and they’ve told me of times when their younger siblings were fucking up and they would like literally BE there all the time, they would walk them to class, sit with them at lunch, be like, so where are we going today? Elena threatens to do that but never really follows through and it always bothered me that no one held an intervention for Jeremy or set up a meeting with a counsellor. 14. It is still the cutest thing ever when Stefan catches Elena staring at him in class. 15. I do like that in season 1 they dress like they’re teenagers though. 16. “Shoo, that’s what I thought.” Yeah, Elena, stand up to that bird. 17. No, seriously, from a purely objective point of view I can see why the cemetery scene would be the scene that made KW and Bob Levi and JP go ecstatic because when the scene begins Nina seems a little nervous, which I get, it’s the pilot, but when the scene goes on and the dialogue keeps going, she and Paul just have that energy, the way she smiles, the way they stare at each other, there’s legit chemistry there. 18. Yeah, those jeans need to go. And Paul I love you, but your pilot haircut is nooooooooot working. 19. Like you look like a hedgehog, honey. The diary entries actually make this REALLY angsty. 20. LOL Vicki is actually pretty mean to Jeremy though. “I don’t want to announce to the world that I deflowered Elena’s kid brother” and Jeremy has these puppy dog eyes when he says, “And deflowered and deflowered” and it’s like awwwwwwww, you’re way too young for this. 21. “I’m meeting Bonnie at The Grill”, it’s not even Bonnie and Caroline though. 22. These Stelena stares are KILLING me. It’s different seeing it within the episode than clips. 23. The way Matt says, “I feel weird calling her … She broke up with me” all of them are so YOUNG and have these really innocent faces and it just makes everything seem so MEAN. 24. “Any siblings” “None that I talk to” so when Elena tells Damon in the next episode, “Stefan never mentioned he had a brother” I mean he didn’t say that he didn’t either, he admits to having siblings. I feel like I’m going to keep a tally of all the times the show forgets its own script to propel DE. 25. Yoooooooooooo I didn’t remember we get a shot of Stefan topless in the pilot when he’s putting on his shirt. *sigh* so gratuitous. I love it. 26. Those jeans are terrible though. 27. OK but really, WHO IS ZACH AGAIN? He says “Uncle Stefan” so like how does that work? 28. Stefan being blamed for Damon’s shit from DAY ONE. 29. Paul’s intense gaze is damn. 30. I also like how in history class they never discuss enslavement. Mmkay. 31. “You’re upset about something.” “No it’s just Bonnie, she’s … You know what, never mind. You’re here.” And from Day One Bonnie’s issues are ignored. 32. Paul and Nina look really good walking next to each other. 33. Tyler legitimately treats Vicki like shit. 34. “Jeremy. Is that you?” Yes, Vicki, Jeremy can create fog now. 35. Also Damon is so fucking extra with that fog. It’s unnecessary. 36. “I just want to let you know that I still believe in us and I’m not giving up on you” oh Matty, it was never you. Don’t worry though, you get a bench. 37. So Vicki is on the ground with blood on her neck and Jeremy is like “It’s Vicki” and Elena is like “oh my God” and NO ONE is taking out their phones to call 9-11.They just stand there until she opens her eyes. I mean, I guess. 38. Ian’s hair is RIDICULOUS. 39. I don’t understand how Damon got such a following, I find him thoroughly uncharming. Like he just talks SO MUCH. 40. “Damon, after all this time, after all these years can’t we just give it a rest??” “I promised you an eternity of misery.” How fucking petty ARE you Damon? 41. Ian isn’t menacing. 42. “How come the guys I want never go for me?” “I’m not touching that.” Bonnie is hilarious though. Like oh hell no, do not drag me into your messy shit. 43. Vicki and her black nail polish. So high school. 44. Matt’s eyes are actually really blue in the pilot. 45. I am so fucking glad the diary voiceovers disappear eventually. It’s just, it’s too much. 46. And Stefan and Elena overlap. Omg. No. 47. Damon looks creepy as fuck staring at Caroline. 48. I won’t lie though, Stefan constantly coming to Elena’s house, if it were me I’d be like sooooo are you just going to keep showing up? Like she isn’t a little bit weirded out that this guy keeps just showing up at her house? 49. And she can just invite boys into her house at how late at night? OK so my review is over! I’m definitely excited to be doing these every Friday. It’s funny though because pilots are meant to establish what the show is going to be about and what’s centered in the pilot is Stefan and Elena and their desire to get through their respective dark times. The supernatural element is secondary. It’s first and foremost an SE story. Until next week!

*NOTE* To avoid confusion: I’m not saying what Stefan did is comparable to Damon, Damon was terrorizing Elena for kicks, I’m just saying that Stefan comes across as intense in the pilot and I would be like dude you are at my house a lot but it makes sense because Stefan isn’t acting completely human because he isn’t one, throughout the episode he’s trying to train himself to be more human.

[gallavictorious]

Fic: Foreign Country

For fuck’s sake... So I got an ask in response to this comment, wherein the lovely nonnie suggested that Ian and Mickey’s reaction to the Kash and Grab would be a reverse sort of situation, with that place holding very happy memories in spite of being a site of trauma (because Kash shot Mickey there). I’m paraphrasing here, obviously... And I spent over a week trying to write the fic that this ask (unintentionally) inspired and now when I posted it Tumblr was messing with the ‘Read more’ so I, stupid and/or tired bastard that I am, deleted the thing to repost it but of course that means the ask is gone aaaaand yeah. I AM SO SORRY NONNIE! :( Hope this one finds you all the same.

Anyway, here’s my resonse:

Ah, yes. Yes! Nonnie, I applaud your dedication to sparking joy and thank you for sharing this delightful reflection! <3 And, uh, it got me thinking about the Kash and Grab and its role as the site of so much that went down with Ian and Mickey in the early years, and yeah, now there’s a ficlet. It involves a trip down memory lane, some angst, some fluff, and a rather startling number of I love you:s. It’s also the reason why it took me so damned long to get back to you… Sorry about that!

Did you ask me to write this? No. Does it stay completely true to your observation rather than carelessly running with it? Also no, but with slightly more regret.  

---

Never returning had not been a conscious choice. Neither was going back.

---

Chicago, on a Thursday afternoon in early October, and the air is unusually crisp when Ian steps out from the ambulance station. He's been working the early shift and now he pauses on the sidewalk and turns his face towards the sun, considering. No one's expecting him for another few hours, and it's a fine day: maybe he needn't rush home. Maybe he could walk for a bit.

It's an idea. He's feeling restless, though not the sort of restless that heralds the on-set of a manic episode (or so he thinks, but he makes a mental note to keep an eye out for other signs, and maybe mention it to Mickey). But yeah. He could walk for a bit, then maybe find a station for the L when he tires.

So he walks. Walks and walks and doesn’t tire, and eventually he finds himself on a familiar street and outside a familiar store and he realizes with a start that he hasn't been here in years. Hadn't even known the store was still open, but the sign on the door proudly proclaims it so, and above it the name remains the same, white letters on red: Kash and Grab.

Huh. Without making a conscious decision to, he's stopped walking and is just standing there, staring at the store. The sight of it brings a strange jumble of emotions, and the quietly jarring mingle of familiarty and distance that comes from returning to a place where once you did belong, but belong no longer.

The last time he stood here was the day before he ran off to join the Army, leaving Linda with nothing more than a short message on her phone. That’s more than what his family got, so he hopes she wasn’t too upset. He never asked; never came back; never really thought back – until now.

He hesitates for a moment, then walks up to the door and steps inside. He’s running low on smokes anyway.

It's the smell that hits him first. It hasn't changed, and brings him back to the days when it would cling to his clothes and follow him home, a not unpleasant but distinctive whiff of frozen food and sweet spices.

The interior hasn't changed much either. There’s a kid behind the counter that looks to be in his early teens, and Ian wonders if it’s one of Kash’s sons, if Linda's still running the store. He could ask, but who knows what Linda's told her kids about the teenager who fucked their closeted father before he ran off?

He glances at the boy again – and yeah, he could be Kash's, there's something about the eyes and the chin – and wonders if he ever looked that young when he manned the register. Wonders if that's what he looked like to Mickey, when he'd come into the store to just take whatever the hell he wanted, wether it was chips or, later, Ian's fucking breath away.

Ian Gallagher. You messed with the wrong girl.

And just like that, it's like no time's passed, and he's 15 and 16 and 17 again; he's doing it with Kash and he thinks he loves him; he excels at ROTC and dreams of Westpoint; his mother is alive and he doesn’t yet know that Frank isn’t his father at all – it hardly matters anyhow, because Fiona is there, as she has always been there, as he still thinks she will always be.

She got out and good for her. If she'd stayed here, she'd never been free of her role as sister-mother – never free to be Fiona. And as for him... he'd mourned the army dream when it died, but knows now that it was an uninformed dream, one he would not have cared to live even if  given the opportunity.

Glancing at the counter where he used to open his trigonomy textbook he feels no regret, though perhaps a twinge of sadness for the loss of that optimistic, determined kid, who had not had an easy life by any means, but who had yet to take any real blows, any blows that truly mattered. Those had come later (had come in this very store, some of them) and standing here, where he'd spent so much time as a child and none as a man, he feels something of that kid returning. Remembers the weight of the hundreth can put on a shelf; feels the ghost of a (too) easy smile on his lips; sees himself as he moves between the backroom and counter and fridge.

And everywhere he looks, there is Mickey. Mickey, in a dirty coat or a security west, angry and rough and funny and sometimes with the briefest flash of something softer, sweeter. He is stealing and scaring of thieving kids and restocking the shelves and plotting to murder Frank and moaning as Ian pushes into him.

He is on the floor, too, cursing Kash but otherwise strangely unaffected by having been shot. Ian thinks he might have been more scared and upset than Mickey. It strikes him now as a moment of innocence lost; your lover shot by a jealous ex, a real gun and real blood and what if Kash had had better aim? This was a thing that happened in the world, and if that could happen – anything could.

It strikes him, too, as a turning point: Mickey going away could easily have spelled the end of their intense but brief affair. For all they knew each other's bodies they hadn't really know each other back then, and while Ian had been crushing hard he had not yet loved Mickey. Perhaps they might both have moved on, found other lives and loves. Perhaps that had still been possible, then.

Or perhaps not. It was the first time they were separated and the first time they found their way back to one another, but not the last. It's a dance of coming together and coming apart and coming together, again and again, and they've traced its steps for close to a decade, never once stopping, not truly.

Because even in the absences, Mickey had been, is; there, always, in the stretches of time when he was locked up in juvie; in the eager hours of wating for him to show up at the store; in the exact distance between them at any given time.

Ian can still feel the jolt, like a punch to his gut, like electricity, of looking up from stacking oranges and finding blue eyes staring straight into his.

He remembers the last time they were in here together, when him and his siblings had been taken away by the CPS and Mickey invited him to crash at his place. He remembers his giddy delight at the question, his excitement at the realization that Mickey wanted to spend time with him. He had been so nervous, and looking back, knowing what he now knows, he thinks that Mickey might have been fucking terrified, but there'd been such ease to that evening and night; such familiarty and tenderness. And oh, the sex had been fantastic.

He tries to remember only this, not what came after with the morning light and a door suddenly slammed open –

Mickey had never returned to the store after that, and a few months later Ian had left for the army. Not really for the army, though; what he'd been moving towards had not been nearly as important as what he was moving away from.

Stings, still, that memory; but less than it once did, and as he strolls down the aisles, noting where the pickled cucumber jars have been replaced with tins of tuna and where the small bottles of cheap olive oil still remain, he is surprised to find himself... okay. For a long time, so much of his past had been a painful, tangled thing he did his best to forget, and even after he made his peace with it, he made a point of looking forward rather than back. Now he thinks that maybe, if you're happy with where you ended up, the hardships of the road which led you there are easier to bear.

Doesn't make everything that happened right; just... yeah. Easier to bear.

He buys a pack of cigarettes. The kid behind the counter is eyeing him suspiciously, but Ian thinks that has more to do with him walking around the store and staring at random things rather than with the boy recognizing him from some lurid tale of Linda's. Ian almost asks him to say hello to her from him, but nah. Let old dogs lie.

Outside, twilight is coming on, and there's a slight chill to the air now that the sun is sinking. Ian lights a cigarette and sucks the smoke deep into his lungs. This, too, is familiar, and for a moment he feels unthethered, unsure of when he is, who he is.

Without really thinking about it, he picks up his phone. Mickey's still working but can't be too busy because he answers on the second signal: “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ian says, and then he doesn't say anything else for long enough that Mickey asks him if he fucking wanted something or he's just being a creepy ass phone stalker.

It makes Ian smile. Grounds him. “I love you,” he says.

A beat. “You called me at fucking work to tell me that?” And Ian knows that the gruff disbelief is partially an attempt to cover Mickey's surprised delight at the proclamation.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he says. Waits for a moment, but Mickey is silent. “You gonna say it back?”

“You fucking serious?”

“Kinda need to hear it.” Because he gets to say that; gets to ask for that. They're not kids not anymore and they don't need to hide. They’re fucking married.

That is real. That is now.

“Jesus Christ, Ian.” But then Mickey, as Ian knew he would, relents. “I love you,” he says, and Ian doesn't know if he's already alone or if he just doesn't care who overhears him, because he doesn't lower his voice or take the time to move somewhere more private.

A brief silence as neither of them speak, but simply rest in the warmth of the words, the truth of them.

Then: “Are you okay?” There's a trace of real worry in Mickey's voice now, and there's a part of Ian's that immediately annoyed because he hates that people worry about him so easily – but a larger part of him has made his peace with it; knows and accepts the reason for it; loves that Mickey loves him enough to worry.

So he offers a brief smile, even though Mickey cannot see it. Hopes it translates into his voice.  “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I promise, it's just... I'll tell you when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.” And maybe Mickey isn't convinced but he takes Ian's word for it. Trust. That's another thing they've been doing better with. “I'll see you in maybe an hour then? I get off at five.”

”Yeah, I'll see you then.” And, because he can, because it's true: ”I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you fucking said that already.” A brief pause, then quietly: “I love you, too.”

They hang up. Throwing one last look at Kash and Grab before he walks off, Ian is pleased to realize that he feels nothing but a vague sense of affection for the place. Some things withered and was left here, sure, youthful dreams and ambitions and most of his naivite – but the best thing about it he kept, and Ian will see him soon and hold him soon, and this time he will neither leave nor let him go. Their new dance will move to a different beat.