#And the way Manny is holding them altogether

[probablyhuntersmom]

The scenes towards the end of the finale were like an intersection of multiple characters experiencing the loss of father figures, in different shades:

Luz's relationship to her late father took on a different form, after King's own father passed on and his glyph magic was gone for good. Manny gifting her the Azura books before his death, and Papa Titan offering her glyph magic before he too passed on, helped Luz find her place in the world and defeat Belos.

Apparently this scene is what made Sarah Nicole-Robles bawl in the recording studio, right after she recorded the lines.

When these changes happen - when we experience the loss of a person, when our ties with them are wrangled into a new form, against our will - it can be devastatingly painful. Change and transformation make for fancy, dramatic scenes in fiction, and they always incur loss in some form, painful or not. It also made me so emotional when seeing how much 18-year-old Luz resembles Manny, and how her enrolment in the university is linked to both her biological father and Papa Titan.

King's experience of seeing the majesty of his father, however brief, left him in awe and exhilaration. He can rest in the beautiful knowledge that Papa Titan was watching over him the whole time too. The message that his dad left him, relayed by Luz, is something he'll hold dear forever.

Hunter will never be truly harmed by Belos ever again. But he can't discard the memories of Belos granting him attachment: even if the attachment ended up not being real in a sense. However, like what can be applied in real-life therapy, he can get guidance on how to rescript those memories.

Belos's lies about having good intentions don't change how it felt real to Hunter all those years ago. Hunter was a young child when receiving this 'love', and in a twisted way...the mission given to him by Belos kept him alive up till he could escape the Coven, because the mission gave his life meaning despite the circumstances being awfully terrible. A child cannot survive without attachment, and needs attachment even if the experience of attachment has been horrendous and scarring. And holy Titan don't get me started on how at age 16 (before the timeskip), he had yet to learn more grisly details about his predecessors - whom he might view as older brothers and fathers whom he never met - and the generational trauma in his Golden Guard family tree:

which would have definitely been explored before he could experience that amazing hard-won serenity and peace at age 20.

Even Philip's arc is inextricably tied to his manner of coping with how he murdered Caleb, who was the closest thing he had to a father, given how these two brothers were orphans. In the end, Philip meets his end while Luz gazes upon him the same way Caleb's ghost did. Philip won't be haunted by Caleb's ghost again, and he joins the person who was essentially his father figure in death. Till the very end, he was projecting onto another person because he didn't want to recognize the same traits in himself. He was the one responsible for his father figure's death.

But grief doesn't mean the relationships in question have ended altogether. It's kind of like what this post about the finale (link) says, and it even extends to the relationship between us fans and the show itself.

The cliché "5 Stages of Grief" is the most commonly mentioned grief model, but I follow the development and advocacy of a newer perspective on grief that challenges it. In fact, the 5 Stages was originally just intended for terminally ill patients, but it was taken out of proportion. I began a serious investigation into the newer models after I went through something that parallels Hunter losing Flapjack...eerily, it happened to me two weeks before TTT's release date. No wonder I feel so close to Hunter as a blorbo, I guess.

Unlike what the 5 Stages of Grief says, grief and linear time don't mix well. Without "stages" to follow, there isn't an expectation of some deadline or permanent end of a tunnel in the newer models. Such pressure wouldn't be honoring the sacredness of connections between us. Instead, less famous grief perspectives like the dual-process model and continuing bonds model, are a better fit to honor relationships that mattered, since they aren't given an expiry date.

I wonder how Luz would be feeling on the day she graduates from the Wild Magic University, and how King feels each time he unlocks his own new glyphs since he is the new Titan to supply the Isles with magic. And I wonder how Hunter felt when his coven sigil was replaced with the Flapjack tattoo, and how he feels when he sees the Gravesfield town seal and Wittebane statues.

There are ways in which they can get creative to integrate their grief (notice I didn't say "get rid of", "remove", "erase" or even "manage"...the pain is what is to be managed, not the grief itself) the best they can. In canon, we have examples such as the Hexsquad agreeing to get their Flapjack tattoos together. Luz letting go of the light glyph sheet here:

is also a fantastic representation of rituals like sending off a message in a bottle at a beach, tying a message to a balloon and letting it fly away (this happened in Reaching Out, didn't it?), or burning a message in a campfire to let it float up towards the sky in the form of embers.

It is a common recommendation to have exercises like letter-writing where the griever writes to the lost loved one. What many may not know is you can also do the reverse: you writing as your lost loved one, to yourself. Because the griever takes a piece of the lost loved one with them, that the griever has shaped within themselves. This is especially good if you need to extend forgiveness to yourself. An example from a book called Bearing the Unbearable:

The author felt responsible for the stillbirth of her child, but had a "happy accident" where she intuitively asked for forgiveness and then received it, by invoking the love that her child would have shown to her in a world where said child had remained alive.

I think Hunter in particular could benefit from something like this, writing to himself as the uncle whom he saw as genuine and nurturing, and gaining ownership of that part of him even though Belos was a liar and is now gone for good. It can help him move forward especially since he won't be spared from nightmares in which his loss is re-enacted. With this kind of rescripting, historical accuracy doesn't actually need to matter. After all, our own minds lie to us at times and mess with historical accuracy anyway, like Luz's thoughts telling her she was as bad as Belos, and how true that felt.

A physical loved one is lost to death, and it can feel just as painful - only in a different way - if people become estranged or separated without a literal death having occurred. But the connection to them isn't lost, it is only adapted. The bond continues. For better or worse.

I believe the pain in grieving is connected to each moment when we remember all over again that the one we loved isn't coming back.

It's like the needle of a gramophone getting stuck in the loop of an unpleasant-sounding record scratch noise. It's a bit like what C.S. Lewis says in his book A Grief Observed: "In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out." I can't find the other part but he later said something like, therefore if a friendship is lost, the part of you that only that friend could bring out, is also lost. Something in you is locked away forever, though new things can also be unlocked after the loss.

It wasn't shown onscreen but I wouldn't be surprised if it's regular for Luz to come across a meme and be freshly reminded of her dad's absence, because she can't show him that meme. King would be wishing that a new funny cat video he discovers is something his dad could also laugh at along with him. Hunter would be hoping that Flapjack, the previous Golden Guards and Caleb are watching as he brings back palismen.

Bereavement, and any grief that is significant enough to alter our personhood forever, are the forms of love that can never really grasp how time flows in a linear way. They can't be reasoned with, only experienced.

"...the howling at the center of grief is raw and real. It is love in its most wild form" - Megan Devine.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Runaway - Chapter Eight.

Huge thanks to everyone for your continued engagement with this little story of mine. 30 notes on the next, as usual, as I have noticed it seems to be working over on this one in drawing out a few shyer people to comment/reblog, and you all seem to be enjoying the pace of posts as well. Well, now you’re over the initial shock of the revelation, it’s time for Hannah to explain herself!

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,064

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

The shock seemed to keep on hitting him, standing there speechless, his eyebrows risen so high, they threatened to escape his forehead altogether. “I know I have a lot of explaining to do, like why I didn’t call you, or how I’m so sure she’s yours, but you only have to look at her to know that. I’m sorry, to come and land this on you, but you needed to know.”

He took a breath, holding it, his feet travelling down the steps as he bridged the gap between them, looking down at the tiny baby in her arms. As soon as he saw her up close, he knew. “Oh shit, yep. She’s definitely mine.” There she was, his tiny, grey eyed little clone. No wonder Hannah was sure. She was the double of him. “Shit, Hannah. Why’d you... why... aw, hell! Gimmie a minute.” He moved at speed back up the steps and into the clubhouse, pointing behind the bar as the prospect looked at him questioningly. “Tequilla, now.”

“Shot?” Jose asked.

“Bottle.”

“What’s going down, Manuel?” EZ asked, entertained at the look on his face.  

“Remember runaway bride?”

He and Angel both snorted with laughter. “A story no one will forget in a hurry, but yeah, go on.” Everyone had been in hysterics, when he’d revealed his antics to them the following day.  

“She just turned up.” Lifting the bottle to his lips, he glugged back a mouthful before continuing. “With my baby.”  

EZ and Angel’s heads spun to look at one another. “Oh shit.”

“Woah!”

“Yeah, all of that.” He took another swig, blowing out a long breath before turning and heading outside again, Hannah still in the same place she was when he’d bolted. “Sorry, it’s just... fuck.”

“I know, I know I smacked you with it. Can we go someplace and talk?” He gestured to the couches out front, Hannah nodding, thinking it actually better than her idea to go to a diner or somewhere similar and having to fiddle to get Lola back into her car seat. As they headed up, she noticed that Manny couldn’t take his eyes off her, her insides breathing a huge sigh of relief that so far, he hadn’t acted poorly to the news that he’d fathered a child with her.  

“So, to explain it all, then. No, wait. I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Are you okay? I need to ask that, because you look stunned still. I’m mindful of what I just dropped on you, and it matters to me, that you’re alright with it.”

“I am stunned,” he spluttered, “but I’m good.” He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, feeling better for it. “Before you do, can I hold her?” She smiled, nodding as she carefully passed Lola into his arms, Manny looking down on her with amazement. “She’s so pretty.” His words were delivered on barely more than a whisper, her tiny baby, their tiny baby, looking even smaller there in her father’s embrace.

“Right, let me explain, then. I didn’t actually know I was pregnant until I was eighteen weeks. I was still having periods, which is rare, but it can happen, according to my doctor. The only reason I visited was because I was beginning to gain weight, and nothing could account for it as everything was just the same, still eating the same, still exercising the same, so the doctor did a pregnancy test. I’ve never been so shocked, when he told me it was positive. I didn’t even have morning sickness!

“Of course, I knew that in truth, I didn’t have a clue who the father was. She could very easily have been Michael’s, but there was no way I wanted to communicate that with him, and I didn’t with you because I wanted to know for sure. I knew I’d be able to tell instantly, because the baby would of course not be white if you were the father, and as you can see from her lovely caramel skin and her black hair, she’s definitely not Michael’s child.  

“But until I knew for sure, I didn’t want to involve you in the mess, because by then it was a mess. I thought I was rid of him, until about six weeks after I ran out on our wedding, when he began pestering me. Currently, I have a restraining order on him, because he continued to harass me, and as soon as he found out I was pregnant, it upped triple fold. He began stalking me, and it was scary. I had his family on me, threatening me, telling me they’d take me to court for full custody of her, so I had him do a DNA test as soon as she was born, which is how I know for sure that she’s yours, because Michael submitted a swab and it showed that he wasn’t her father.  

“Anyway, I’ve had a lot of back and forth to court and the like, getting the restraining order filed, it was a really stressful pregnancy. I knew, though, that in time I had to tell you, and that time is now.”

He couldn’t help it, securing Lola in one arm to put his other around Hannah. God, what she’d gone through. Michael was a piece of shit, for stalking a pregnant woman, putting her under that kind of emotional duress when all she needed was a calm environment to welcome her baby into. “I wish you’d told me the second she was born, so I could have been there for you both. I mean, I know we barely know each other, it ain’t like that, but I could have made the last three months a lot easier for you, at least.”  

To hear those words, Hannah was filled with a sense of relief she’d needed all the way through her ordeal with Michael, the worry of not knowing who her child’s father was, the stress, the nights alone where she wished with everything she had that it was Manny who had fathered Lola, but then of course not knowing how he would react, being he was a one-night stand whom she barely knew. Anything, she thought, was preferrable to the haranguing she’d received from the Hansen’s. Even if he’d said he didn’t want to be a part of their lives, she could have dealt with it and raised her alone.  

“You don’t got nothing to worry about, mamas. I ain’t no deadbeat. Imma be here for her, time, money, all of that. Shit, now I’ve gotten over the shock, I swear, I’m so happy,” he spoke, laughing a little as he smiled down at Lola. “Hey, tiny girl. I’m your dad, yeah, I am. I can’t wait to get to know you, help your mama out and all that, because I bet you���ve been keeping her up squealing, ain’t you? If you’ve inherited my smart yap, then I can more or less guarantee that!”

Hannah couldn’t help the tears she burst into, tears of relief, of tiredness, of residual hormonal duress, all the long months of stress, everything, suddenly pouring out of her in waves as she put her head down in her hands, huge sobs wracking her throat as she shook from the force of them. Manny, as ever, was coolly efficient, standing and walking to the clubhouse door. “Hey, Lily? Little help, darlin’.”  

“Oh my god, Manny! She’s gorgeous!” she cooed upon arriving with him, looking at the baby before glancing over at a hysterical Hannah with concern.  

“Can you hold her while I go and...” he trailed off, carefully passing Lola into her arms, Lily looking down at her with soft eyes before she looked up to see him move swiftly back to the couch, crouching before her and bundling Hannah up in a hug as he began to soothe her. She had no idea what the deal was there, so dutifully held her friend’s child while he comforted her near hysterical mother.  

“Come on, you’re alright now, I gotchu. It’s all fine, Hannah,” he soothed her with, Hannah breathing deep through each sob against the soft leather of his kutte, all of the tension she’d carried for the last eleven months pouring out of her, and god, she was so embarrassed.  

“It isn’t, though! Because I should have told you sooner, and it was all such a big mess! And I... I...”

“You had your reasons for not doing so, and shit, they were valid. It’s alright, I ain’t gonna hold it against you. I just wish I could have been there for you sooner is all. I’m here now, though.” He rubbed her back while hugging her, letting her cry it out until she emerged from his arms, looking up to see a tissue being passed to her.

“Oh, Christ! Just my luck to have an emotional episode right in front of my sporting idol!” she wailed in joke, Lily smiling softly as Hannah took the tissue from her outstretched hand, taking a seat on the adjacent chair.

“It’s okay, honey. I get it, the first few months are tough, and you’re tired all the time and emotional at the slightest of things. I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there sometimes and my baby is almost two!” she shared, Hannah feeling a lot better for hearing that from another mother, someone who understood how it was.  

“Thank you. I’m Hannah, by the way,” she offered, drying her eyes.

“Lily, but I guess you know that already!” Her nice demeanour set Hannah at ease, watching her begin to rock Lola when she started to fuss. “It’s okay, little one, yeah, shhhh.” Lola wasn’t quite so easily pacified, though, Hannah knowing she was hungry, so taking her back, Lily returning inside and leaving them to it while Hannah arranged her beneath her top and gave her a feed, sighing as Manny seated himself next to her again.

“So, you mentioned on the phone you were with someone earlier. How long has that been for?”

“About ten months now,” he revealed. “We just got engaged, actually.” Her face was bright, but for some odd reason, she felt her heart sink to know that, how permanently he was off the market. She had no idea why either, since she hadn’t expected to just roll up there, deliver her news, and have them all go off into the sunset together as a happy little family.  

Hell, she barely knew the man. That comfort she felt around him a year ago had returned, though. She was reminded of something very prominent in him, that beneath the outlaw, there was a really good guy, a guy who did the right thing.  

“Oh wow, congratulations! Just don’t do what I did if you end up having second thoughts, alright? I can’t ride a motorcycle, so I can’t come save you on one.” Her joke landed well with him, Manny tipping his head back and laughing that same dirty chuckle that made her insides bounce pleasantly.  

“Nah, not much danger of that,” he replied. “Although I am kinda dreading telling her about Lola. Carmen, she ah, she got a hella bad temper, dude.”  

Hannah winced, cringing a tad. “Sorry if my turning up has just made life difficult for you there.”

He waved his hand dismissively, reaching to gently grasp Lola’s foot, stroking her tiny toes. “Ahh, it’ll be alright. I hope. I mean, she should be cool with it. I’d like to think that she would be.” There was something in his tone that alluded to the fact that he was more preparing himself for the fact that she wouldn’t be very understanding over the news that he’d fathered a child prior to them getting together, but Hannah didn’t press him. “So, you busy this Friday? Thought I could come hang with you and bubs.”

They made an arrangement to for him to be at her place for 4pm, so he had a couple of hours with her before she went to sleep, Manny saying he’d stay longer if she wanted to go take an undisturbed bath, or meet with friends, anything like that. God, she was so fortunate. It was only the very start of seeing how wonderful he’d become, too.  

It was a pity that Carmen didn’t quite see things in the same way, though.

[damn-stark]

Other half

Abby Anderson x reader

Requested by anon “What about a scenario about helping Abby and going AWOL and leaving the wolves behind, but plot twist: s/o is Isaac's child”

Warning- swearing, fluff, includes scenes from game

———

Quietly you watch as people in base gather around in a circle to gossip about some random person's recent travel, the sun up bright and hot, warming the whole messed up place you got to live in. Not to say that earth was not a beautiful place, because it was, in its infected infested moment and all, but it’s just many times you wished that life had turned out different. Not so troublesome and annoying.

The only thing that you had going for you and kept you afloat were your friends from Salt Lake. They were somewhat new, (A few years) but they were what kept things entertaining in this boring old commuting you called home. Especially Abby. She was the center of it all. With her incredible and beautiful muscles, her quiet and strong personality. She was amazing in every aspect and your father Isaac also loved her—For other reasons entirely, but he did, just like you.

“So I go check the room and—”

The door finally opens, cutting off whatever the guard was rambling about, the action a sweet relief and a blessing altogether.

“Hi Manny, Abby.” You greet happily, pushing your body off the wall and beginning to walk by them, offering the guard a lazy wave. “It’s about time you guys got out, what did my dear old father need?”

Manny was quick to answer before Abby had the chance to even think of an answer. “Basically that he needed Abby for the attack on the Scar Island.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Of course. What else?” Your eyes shifted to your favorite blond next to you, noting her silence and contemplating look. An easy give away that something else was definitely bugging her. “Abby? There's something more, what is it?”

Said girl only briefly glanced your way before she shook your head and grabbed your hand, taking you and guiding Manny past the crowd and tents, until finally she came to a stop somewhere quieter and under some shadows that protected you from the sun.

“I asked him about Owen and he said he wouldn’t go looking for him, but if he came he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Your eyebrow quirks and you shoot her and Manny a questioning look. “I knew that..and?”

“I’m going to get him.” She finally revealed, making you let out a silent ‘oh’ and a smile to creep onto your lips, her eyebrows furrowing and shooting you a pointed look. “What?”

You shrug, “I should’ve known my girlfriend wasn’t going to sit and do nothing. But I also know my father and I know he wouldn’t let you leave so close to an ambush.”

Manny stands close and nods, agreeing to your statement and adding a witty comment. “Oh look you do love her.”

You roll your head to the side and smirk. “Yep.” Again you look back to Abby and nod. “So what are we doing? Sneaking us out?”

“No.” Abby reveals, “sneaking me out. Your dad would skin me alive if I let you come unprotected.”

“I can protect myself and I have you.” You interject.

Abby shakes her head. “No you’re staying here with Manny. It’s faster if I go alone, I’ll be back by morning. You can help me sneak out.”

You exhale deeply and scoff. “Fine.” Even if you already made up your mind.

You weren’t going to tell her though. Not yet.

——

“What if Owen is somewhere else?” Manny asks, his eyes reflecting the beautiful orange and yellow sunset in the horizon ahead. A calming view if you weren’t leading your girlfriend to a dangerous mission.

“He’s there.”

Manny lightly hits your arm to gesture Abby and you to continue moving. “Let’s get off the roof before someone sees us.” Manny began to guide Abby and you off the rooftop expressing his concern for his friend’s travel. “Can I talk out of this.”

“No.” Abby answered. “We don’t know what happened. We gotta find him.”

You weren’t really sure why there was such a need to find Owen. Her ex. But she was persistent—now you weren’t jealous of what they used to be, because one there was trust in the relationship between Abby and you. And two, Owen was your friend as well. But if he wanted to come back, no matter what he did, he would’ve. But he didn’t.

“If he really killed Danny.” Manny added as he and you jumped off the roof and onto a green covered wooden path, Abby's quick remark heard behind you.

“Fuck, Danny.”

You smirk and nod, staying silent to listen to what Abby had to say to Manny. Her tone softened to express more. “I do appreciate you. The both of you, helping me sneak out like this.”

You look over your shoulder and smile, Abby's own smile mirroring yours for a moment, a big admiration for your lovely girlfriend growing as the sun illuminated her face in a very beautiful way. Making her blue eyes glow like the ocean. She seemed to notice your gaze and just smirked. Her attention turned to Manny as he continued speaking as he walked down the catwalk to get to the stairs

“How are you getting to the aquarium? The highway?”

You shake your head and answer for her. “She’d be pretty dumb to do that, theirs too many patrols, she’d be spotted for sure.”

“I’ll rough it. Aquariums due west of here. Keep following the sun, right?” Abby added as she followed you down the stairs.

“I’m coming with you.” Manny interjected.

“I’ve done this before.”

You stay silent through their argument, knowing that you had your own secret choice that would make Abby upset. Manny wouldn’t mind, but she definitely would. Which is why staying silent and just following into the abandoned apartment was better. Only reacting when Abby found a very ‘steamy’ letter inside one of the rooms, her grin excited and teasing all at the same time. “Whispering Spanish in my ear?”

“Hey! That’s private!”

“Oh my god! This is your place?” Abby chuckled.

You snort and grin, “how many sex dens do you have in this QZ?”

Manny walks off and pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “¿Que? Perdón. No hablo inglés.”

You chuckle and follow after him. “Don’t worry you’re not the only one who gets love letters. I give them to Abby too.”

Abby snorts. “You do? Where cause I haven’t seen them.”

You tap the side of your head and smirk. “Telepathically, duh. Here I’ll read out loud.” You clear your throat and begin. “To my love, your hair is like perfectly golden wheat in a field of….uh, wheat? Your eyes are as blue as the ocean and your muscles are as big as comets. Xoxo, your other half.”

Abby and Manny chuckle as you wipe your shoulder pridefully.

“Such a talented poet.” Manny teased.

You grin, “oh, I know.”

Manny continues guiding you down the broken down apartment until you’re all outside again.

“Hey. thanks.” Abby directed to Manny.

“For this?”

“Yeah...and other stuff Y’know? You’re a good friend.”

Manny smiles, “come on, Abs. You know I can’t handle all this emotion.” Finally you all make it to the gate, the view so far clear from any infected. As many made clear, anyway. “Looks clear. C’mon.” Manny crouch’s down to give Abby a boost over the fence, her feet hitting the ground with a loud thud before she took a moment to look back around and say her goodbyes to Manny and to you. A mischievous smirk on your lips once she turned around to leave.

You place a finger on top of your lips to tell Manny to be quiet and discreet. His eyebrow raising to question your choices but soon letting you win with a single glare, boosting you over like he did with Abby. Said girl's attention turned to you as she heard the commotion, her eyes widening before her eyebrows pinched together.

“What the hell are you doing?” Her eyes looked over your shoulder to see Manny already up on the catwalk, hurrying his pace until he disappeared inside the apartment once again. Leaving you to deal with Abby with a knowing and happy smile.

“Going with you. I decided a long time ago.”

Abby shook her head and walked towards you with the same pointed look. “What about your dad?”

You scoff, “I don’t care what my dad says, I’m not letting you leave alone. I’m your other half, remember?” You smile towards the end of your sentence, making Abby stay quiet until she loudly huffed out of her nose. “Fine. But you stay close.”

You grin and nod. “Promise.” You quickly interlace your hand with hers and hold back your laugh as another “romantic” sentence comes to mind. “Riding off into the sunset, like two lovers.”

Abby shakes her head and snorts. “Dork.”

“I know.”

[farouchelyoptimistic]

HyunJi: Visit

Soo Hyun hums as he punches in the security code of the door, pushing it open after the brief beep. The familiar scent of honey and vanilla fills his nose, making him erupt into a small smile.

The house was quiet as he entered, the cove lighting dim and warm-toned. The floor to ceiling glass windows reflected the lights from the city below. The silence doesn't bother him, he was used to it. It was always quiet in his girlfriend's abode, she enjoyed the tranquil serenity that comes with it.

The paper bag in his hand made soft noises that sounded louder in the vast space of her living room. Filming had been going on for quite a while, and it had been getting harder and harder to reach her every day. She had scenes back to back and a few ads to shoot in her spare time. That was the price of her growing popularity, the recognition he was terribly happy that she was getting.

She was a marvelous actress, excellent. Despite her prowess, she was fairly underrated and he hated it. He wanted people to see her beyond her elegant beauty, he wanted her to be seen by her undeniable talent. And now she was getting it, and it made him so proud of her. But along with that came fewer hours with her, fewer days to spend together.

Compared to the frequent visits and the well-planned secret dates here and there, this time he could even barely see her despite being in the same place every day. The only time he could see her was when they had scenes together. The fact that he had to corner her away on set to steal a few glances, a few touches, a few smiles made him fairly frustrated.

He used to have his girlfriend all to himself, and now he's sharing her with the entire world. He's not a selfish person, but when it comes to her, sometimes he wished he was.

This was one of the very few nights that they were both free. He doesn't waste the opportunity to buy her favorite meals to go, bringing it to her home to share with her.

"Hi, Manny!" He coos, squatting down to pat the dog's head, it's fur warm and soft to touch. It wags its tail, putting out its tongue as it welcomes the all too familiar visitor. Gone were the days when it used to bark at him endlessly, threatened of his presence, or probably even jealous that he'd take all of the attention. But now, they were best friends.

He chuckles as he stands up, making his way further into the living room, past the kitchen. He smiles widely at the sight of his woman sitting prettily on the couch, dressed in a light pink nightgown, her hair cascading elegantly over her shoulders.

"Yea Ji-ah!" He calls out to her in a joyful operatic voice, routinely skipping towards her with her a huge smile.

"Ya." Her low voice stops him in his tracks. It was chilling, cold. It almost sent shivers down his spine. When she looks at him, he shuddered, freezing him in his spot. Her eyes were sharp, lacking emotion altogether. Terrifying almost.

"You noisy little prick." His breath falters, shock starting to bloom all over him. He blinks once, twice, thrice. Trying to figure out what vile sin he had done to his girlfriend for him to get stabbed by the invisible daggers darted from her eyes.

It takes him a few seconds before he sights the script on her lap. Realization dawns over him, making himself let out a breath. Aaaah.

She had been rehearsing, which means his Yea Ji wasn't here tonight. Moon Young had paid a visit. That was the effect of her method acting. She had to be the character altogether, and sometimes it takes a while longer to let go of it. He understood that was what worked for her, and he could say she was doing a good job manifesting it.

He had been used to it as well. There were days when he visited only to find a timid Sang Mi sprawled on the living room floor. The other time it was the outspoken Hae Ji reading a book by yhe window. Tonight it was a very annoyed Ko Moon Young.

"Ko Moon Young, I didn't expect you would visit." He chuckled, the amusement in his voice ringing as she turned on his heel towards the kitchen counter. He knew she's still trying to snap out of it, so he prepared all the food quietly, bringing it over on the coffee table between them in the living room.

She quietly slides down from the couch into the warm carpet. She picks up her chopsticks and eats silently, chewing, and swallowing. He smiled watching her eat.

He had longed to hear her talk over dinner tonight, but by the looks of it, it wasn't going to be happening. He loved listening to her ramble about the most mundane things, her low pitched voice becoming music to his ears. The sultry, raspy tone of it making his heart come to a calm, bringing him serenity.

She was quiet, but he still enjoyed it. He was happy just by watching her eat, devouring everything in front of her. If there was one thing she and Moon Young had in common, it was the appetite. He had worried about her thin physique early in the relationship, but seeing the amount she manages to gobble down, he realized her eating dynamics had nothing to do with her figure. She was just natural beauty. Lucky him.

He made the kind effort if washing a few dishes, humming softly as the water gushes through the faucet. When he feels tiny arms wrap around his waist from the back, he smiles. He loved it when she did that.

"Is this Moon Young, or is my Yea Ji back?"

"I kicked Moon Young out. She tried to steal my boyfriend." He chuckles, turning the faucet off before he wipes his hands dry.

He wiggles in her hold, turning around so he was facing her. He lets out a smile, wrapping his arms around her small frame. She looks up at him with a smile, eyes curved into thin lines, and in an instant, he loses the capability to breathe. She continues to take his breath away, every single time.

He squeezes her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer.

"Did you enjoy the meal, hmm?" He tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear, marveling down at her. When she nods he smiles, cupping her small face in his large hand. When he leans in for a warm kiss she automatically closes her eyes, both of them smiling in between.

Her hands instinctively travel over his firm arms, around his nape, her fingers through his hair. He holds her tighter as if it was possible to have her any more closer. Their bodies were already pressed tightly against each other.

When he pulls back, he grins. He took pride in the idea that he was able to kiss her like this, hold her close. Touch her. Do things only others can imagine. He took pride in the fact that now she had freely allowed him to make her feel things, do things, to take the lead.

He couldn't forget that there was a time when even the slightest touch bothered her. Sent her blushing excessively, cowering under his stares and gentle brushes. He thought he was probably so despicable, she couldn't bear even the slightest intimacy.

But it wasn't him. It was her innocent values, blooming from her genuine wholesome perspectives of the world. He learned to ask for permission whenever he wanted to kiss her, to gradually inch his hand to hers so she doesn't get startled. It took her quite some time to get used to it until all the permissions became automatic. Instinctive.

He didn't need to work it out anymore. She could read it in the way he looked at her. And she learned to be confident around him as well. Initiating gentle touches, hugs, short kisses. They've come a long way, but she still had that innocence in her, the innocence he loved so much. He loved anything about her anyway.

"You stink." She mutters in a chuckle as she buries her head against his chest, inhaling his manly scent. He only laughs, swaying her side to side. She was the most honest person in the world, she was incapable of lying. So he really does stink.

"Hmm, really? I just came from the gym." She laughs.

"You should have showered." His laughter thunders, throwing his head back.

"I know. I was thinking I'd shower here instead. . . . . with you." She automatically unlinks her arms around him, playfully pushing his chest.

"Ande." She takes a step back, turning around with a laugh. It wasn't like she hated intimacy, she just can't help but feel uncontrollably shy. Even after all the nights they've spent together, she still couldn't help the warm blush that would creep up her cheeks.

He chuckles, holding on to her wrist to pull her back gently. He wraps her arms around her again, searching for her face. She couldn't look at him.

"Weh? It's not like I haven't seen y---" He gets cut off when she presses a hand against his mouth, sending both of them in light laughter.

"Stop it." She whines, furrowing her brows, pouting her lips.

"Stop what?" She lets out a gasp when he slightly lifts her up, setting her feet on top of his. He grins at her before he pulls her closer, pressing another kiss on her lips. He slowly walks them across the room, her feet on top of his, taking every step he was taking.

She held his arms tight, maintaining her balance as he leads her. She giggles in between the kiss.

"I know what you're trying to do."

He chuckles while he kisses her.

"Really? I'm just making my way to the shower." She shakes her head, smiling as she closed her eyes. Gone were the inhibitions when he starts to trail kisses on her jaw. She clears her throat at the growing heat that was starting to spread like wildfire all over her body. Her reaction to him was automatic.

A low moan erupts from the back of her throat when he trails hot, wet kisses down her long neck. She finally gives in to him as he makes his way inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom. He was a little persistent than usual. He must've really missed her. But she couldn't deny it, he missed her too.

-end-

[believerindaydreams]

Chapter 2 of "into the fire"

For a moment, I let myself think I won't go through with it. Two people can partner, three can't. Carla was never along for the grunt work.

Maybe she should have been...but that's not the point, now.

Arcade has the sense to let me see what he's doing, hand going up my arm and down my back, but a shove is a shove. "What's up?"

"Maybe I don't want to do this. Maybe you don't want me to try."

"I wouldn't say it's smart for us to agree to get into a new relationship before you've settled up the old one."

"Sure about that? Could be Manny takes me back, leaves you out in the cold."

That face isn't built for secrets: looks like I slapped him. "Then I would rather know that now, then after we're any more emotionally entangled than we already are."

Can't argue with that. I knock on the door, raise my voice. "Manny? You in there?"

"Yeah. C'mon in." Same deep reassuring voice as always. He sounds amused.

Not much light when I walk in. Bathroom's been left open but I can hardly make out my partner's form in the dark, tucked under blankets.

Two forms. And a giggle straight out of the grave.

I've never fainted. That's cause for medical discharge in the NCR if you're susceptible, it's a liability in the field, and I don't do it now. Might feel like all the blood's gone out of me and Arcade trying to hold me up, but it's not a faint.

He hauls my dead weight over to the bed, jabs me with something while the lights come up and Manny mutters something apologetic. Can't make myself concentrate on what he's saying, what I'm seeing, all I know is I'm so close to howling madness one step more plunges me into the abyss. The doc's hand, though. That's real.

I'm not hallucinating him.

Carla leans over me, soft pretty hair falling into her face like always before she's put it up with bobby pins. "Boone? You're okay, aren't you? Tell me you're all right."

Can't look at her. I turn to Arcade. "So...this is my wife. Carla."

He nods and waves at her distractedly, so I guess she must be real.

*****

"Why would you do that?" Arcade snaps. Keeping his temper inside had been one thing; but now the happy couple is talking things over inside, he feels justified in rounding on the other Recon vet.

Manny looks slightly sheepish. "I didn't think he'd take it that badly. Hell. I mean, I only half-killed myself going down to Tuscon to save Carla, figured he'd appreciate the effort."

"It...we had a rough time of it. Getting captured by the Legion will do that to you."

"We?" Manny has his eyebrows raised, and it makes Arcade feel like he's on the back foot somehow.

Which really only makes him snappish. "At least I didn't think the way to tell a man his wife was alive was to be bedding his wife."

Manny bursts out laughing. "Guess you don't know Boone much at all, then. Trust me, we were all three together long before you entered the picture."

Oh. This is starting to make more sense than it doesn't...he starts tidying up his doctor's bag, more to have something to do than anything. "In that case...do you want to get me up to speed? Because last Boone knew, his wife was dead."

"He gave up on her." A little bit of bite now, and not altogether aimed at him, Arcade thinks. "Just cos he got as far as Cottonwood Cove and saw a million and a half Legionaries crawling around making life difficult- look, I love Boone, but he's been broken ever since Bitter Springs. He has this weird idea that the universe is out to wreck him personally. I said fuck that, I'll go and get Carla back even if her moron of a husband doesn't care, and now the main slave trading center in Tucson is in ashes. That's First Recon for you."

He looks undeniably smug, but under the circumstances, Arcade decides he can't really blame the man. He curls some tubing around a coil, undoes it again.

"So are you fucking him or what? Because I have to admit, I hadn't counted on him forgetting about us this fast."

"Am I- what- yes," Arcade blurts out. He's never been good at lying and Boone will just tell them the truth anyway. "I'm a doctor, I saved his life in the Legion camp, he saved mine, we ended up in the Sierra Madre and almost died so many times...he told me about the- uh. The thing?"

"He told you about the thing? Wow. Because that is not something he would have brought up unless it was life or death on the line."

"It was! Ghouls but with- swords. Or, um, exceptionally long and sharp knives."

Manny heaves a sigh. "Well. Now I feel a bit less guilty about partnering with Carla- oh, don't give me that look. You try escorting a pregnant woman through Legion territory, you'll use every advantage you can."

"His baby, or yours?" Arcade ventures cautiously.

Manny shrugs. "We'll find out when the baby's born and we see if it's pasty or not."

Well. This isn't a complicated fandango at all.

It's weirdly reminiscent of his childhood, too.

[purplesurveys]

1040

survey by amandahudson48

When's the last time you said you were sorry? Maybe last Friday or yesterday? I haven’t been replying to Andi because I was in a slump, then when I was finally able to get back to them I made sure to apologize first and explain why it took me a while to respond.

Have you done anything interesting in the last week? I got to dine in at a restaurant again after nine months last Monday, and I brought my parents to treat them as well. The three of us had ramen, then I also treated them to frozen yogurt after. It felt nice to be out, but we also headed to a mall Gab and I used to regularly go to so everything ended up being too difficult to process and I was fighting tears the whole time at the ramen place.

Are there any songs you listen to everyday? I don’t think so. There have been a lot of days where I’ve avoided music altogether.

What do you consider a waste of time? Having to manually go to a government office nowhere near your house to queue for an ID or document when it could be done digitally, but you can’t and have no choice anyway because the agency’s website isn’t even working. In short, welcome to the Philippines where the government can steal billions but can’t maintain their own damn websites.

How do you react to stress? I tend to have a shorter fuse around people. So that I don’t accidentally lash out on anyone, I’ll bring myself to work on autopilot until I get a task done. If I find time to myself, I cry in private for a few minutes because stress sucks; then I try to dust myself off and get back to working.

Have you ever considered what you would do in certain life/death sitches? Sometimes. My game plan for the most part is to simply scream at the top of my lungs to rouse attention, but I’ll never really know what I’ll do unless something actually takes place. I have a track record of being scared frozen when scary men have approached me in the past, so idk if I will have it in me to scream in a life or death situation.

Have you ever gone mud riding? No. Photos don’t look too appealing mostly because I’m not into vehicles and driving them on unconventional terrain lol, but I mean I would still give it a shot at least once.

Do you edit your photos? Just sometimes, if I mean to show off or promote someone/something to my mutuals; like the time I promoted my uncle’s business when he gave me a free cheesecake. I usually use the VSCO or Foodie apps.

What kind of cookie do you like the most? Chocolate chip cookies that are crispy on the outside and gooey inside; and dark chocolate macadamia cookies.

Do you enjoy working alone? Sure, though I don’t mind the occasional groupwork.

Is there anyone you're not over and feel like you never will be? Yes, I’m in exactly the same place I found myself at five years ago.

Do you like long or short surveys? Medium-length, so like anywhere between 40-70 questions is the perfect length for me.

How often do you listen to your iPod? I used to listen to it everyday because I brought it with me throughout middle school and the first half of high school. When iPods slowly went out of style in junior year, I started using it less frequently.

What kind of house do you want? Something modern and minimalist; I’d like it to be predominantly rectangular or square in shape with large windows. I do also want a brutalist style for myself but I might have to give that up if I ever end up with a family, as I don’t want my kids thinking their own home looks aloof and unapproachable.

Would you like living on the coast? It sounds like paradise. Yeah, absolutely.

What song was the last you listened to? To Let A Good Thing Die - Bruno Major. Then I got really sad and had to stop listening to music altogether and scramble to watch something hilarious on YouTube.

When's the last time you were really late to something? Last week, for a meeting with a client :/ I wasn’t accustomed to my weekly calls just yet and ended up attending a 4:30-5 PM meeting at 4:57, right when it was ending, because I thought it started at 5. It was embarrassing and my manager was rightfully jokingly mad at me.

Do you prefer to take back roads or the highways? Highways as much as possible, but if I’m stuck in traffic and if it looks like I wouldn’t be able to get to my destination on time then I ask Waze to guide me through backroads.

How do you spell your name without consonants? Rbyn or Rbn, depending on what you consider y to be.

What's the last movie you watched? Uhhh it was still That Thing Called Tadhana but it’s been a while. I mainly watch a Korean drama titled Start Up these days.

What would you like your generation to change? The people society votes into office. Young Americans seem to be leading the charge on this front, which is so so great. Meanwhile in my country Manny Pacquiao is planning for his 2022 presidential campaign and we are once again fucked because voter’s literacy is so fucking low that I actually see a possibility of him winning. Migrating has never sounded more attractive.

Do you use your cell phone a lot? Yeah, it’s beside me with the screen turned on nearly the entire day.

When's the last time you saw an ocean wave? Not sure about an ocean wave, but the last time I saw a wave in general (we were at a beach) was August 2019.

How long can you hold your breath? Maybe a minute max? I haven’t had to try in a while.

Would you rather work behind the scenes or be the star? Behind the scenes. I loathe the spotlight and I’ve never been the performing type, and I always hated it whenever I’ve had to perform in school or for a family function. It’s also why, as fun as hosting looks like as a career, and as much as I know I would’ve been decent in it if I tried, it was just ultimately never the path for me.

Are you a sore loser? Yeah, I hate it. I’m competitive to the bone, which personally sucks too because it’s hard for me to enjoy games lol. I make it easier for the playing crowd by just watching at the sidelines so that I don’t ruin things for them.

When's the last time you used a pair of scissors? Yesterday when I was doing embroidery.

What was the last word you thought? I mean...’embroidery,’ I guess, since I typed it last before reading this question.

Is it easy to make you angry? It takes me a while to explode.

Have you wondered if other people wonder what you’re thinking? No.

Do you sing a lot? When I’m alone and am certain no one can hear, yes.

Do you think you have an addictive personality? Uh no, not really. I like keeping a certain distance with everyone I interact with. As nice as I can be, I try to make sure my personality isn’t the type that would ~leave people wanting more~ so to speak.

Which affects us more: our genes or the environment in which we're raised? For me, it’s the environment. Genes are strong too, but they’re already there; they’re given, they’re constant, they’re wired into each person. The fact that people can still be constantly affected depending on what kind of situation they’re in says much about the capabilities of being raised in a certain environment. For instance, I know for sure I would’ve ended up being more emotionally stable if I was provided with a healthier, gentler upbringing.

Why do you believe that? Oops, I may have already answered it above.

Honestly, do you enjoy arguing? Nah. Watching others do it can be fun, but I avoid them myself.

Do you prefer to use tape or glue? Tape. More secure.

Do you see routine as a comfort or a rut? Comfort. I do like bursts of spontaneity every now and then, though.

When's the last time you cried? Last night. I wanted to this morning, but I already did so much heavy crying last night that I just gave myself a break today.

Do you believe that love can get you through anything? No. I know that now.

What do you wish you had more of? Money is always a good answer. Also, weekends.

If you HAD to change one thing about your best friend, what would it be? I wish Angela lived nearer, so that it’s easier to visit. I wish Gabie wasn’t so selfish.

Have you ever gone to sleep mad? It’s harder that way, lol. But I mean yeah I guess I’ve felt angry while trying to go to bed; it’s just that I usually use certain outlets so that I could calm down and fall asleep more easily.

Do you like your computer? I love it. Even though it’s an older Macbook Air I have no plans to replace it; it’s still so low-maintenance and reliable after all this time.

Which theory do you wish but perhaps not believe was true about afterlife? This is a good question and something I always wish was verbalized more. For me, it’s the idea of reuniting with all your deceased family, friends, and pets in death. That has always given me comfort, but I don’t necessarily cling to it.

Is there anyone that you truly could not live without? I can think of one such person, but we’ll see if it holds true.

[stellarbisexual]

46 for reddie?

nanny/single parent AU, oh bless

***“This is so fucking embarrassing, I’m so sorry,” Eddie says from behind his hands.  “You shouldn’t even have to deal with this; you have enough on your plate with Brianna.”

It’s been exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes since Eddie’d accidentally sent a text meant for his best friend to his employer–and single father of six year-old Brianna, Richie Tozier.  

I had to see him in a bathing suit yesterday and almost needed to be resuscitated.

Followed by a hearteyes emoji and the even more incriminating “wet” emoji.

“Eds–” Richie starts kindly, sitting next to him on the couch and trying to pry one of his hands off of his face.  

“I mean, God, could I be any more fucking cliche?  Gay manny falls for divorced dad.  I’m like a one-man queer fucking soap opera.  Please just fire me already.  Either that or please forget this ever happened and let’s move on because–”

“Eds.  Eds, Eds, Eds.”  Richie’s outright chuckling now.  And holding both of his hands in his lap.  

Eddie chances opening his eyes and looking at his boss.  He’s smiling softly at him.  Eddie wants to die.  “What?”

“I’m not going to fire you, I promise.”  Richie’s big blue eyes sparkle behind his glasses.  It’s a Sunday, and he’s still in his sleep sweatpants.  “Brianna loves you more than me; I think she’d hate me for the rest of her life, which is the number one thing I’m trying to avoid as her father.  That and bodily harm, of course.”

Eddie tries to deepen his breaths, taking his words slowly.  “I really appreciate that.  But I honestly don’t know how I can move forward with our professional relationship after this.  Not without you coming down with sudden selective amnesia.”

“Well,” Richie starts, clearing his throat, and righting his glasses over the bridge of his nose.  “I’m not sure I want to forget what you said.”

That’s when Eddie stops breathing altogether.

“I like you, Eds.  In a romantical way,” he smirks.  “I have since you interviewed with me, and if I’m being honest, it’s probably part of the reason I hired you.”  He holds a hand up to preemptively stop Eddie from protesting that.  “Which I realize is kind of fucked up, but here we are.  I…”  He grasps hold of both of Eddie’s hands again and presses a kiss to his knuckles.  “I want to try being together, for real.  You being here all the time, in my home, with me and my daughter: it feels right.  I want all the rest of it, too.  I’m glad you sent that text to me by mistake.  Let’s fucking go for it.”

“Wha–?”  Eddie shakes his, trying to process all of what Richie’s said.  “What about…?”  He lets out a desperate laugh.  “I need a job.  What about–”

“Do you know how many parents I know who’d be thrilled to have you?  Fuck, you met at least half of them at the pool party yesterday.  I’ll find you another gig in no time.  In fact, if I don’t find you another nannying gig in the next week, you have my full permission to break up with me.”  Richie licks his lips, a nervous tell that Eddie’s gotten very familiar with over the last seven months of working with him and Brianna.  “That is if you weren’t just blowing off steam in your text.  I mean, if it’s more than just liking the way I look in my swim shorts.”

Eddie avoids his eyes, blushing.  “Richie…”

Richie braces one of his palms on Eddie’s cheek, urging him to meet his eyes again.  He gives him another of his kind smiles before leaning in and pressing a heartfelt kiss to his mouth.  When they part, he stays close, eyes lingering on Eddie’s lips.  “Eds, I like you so fucking much.  There’s a reason I haven’t really dated since you started.  What do you say?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, smiling wide and bright.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, parroting him playfully and pulling him in for another kiss.  

“…Daddy?”

They pull apart, Eddie poised to bury his face in his hands again–except Brianna’s standing in the doorway with her stuffed bunny rabbit and a huge smile of her own.

“Honeybunches of Oats,” Richie starts, rising from the couch and striding over to scoop her off her feet.  “Daddy and Eddie have got some news for you.”

permatag list: @reddie-to-fight @hurleyhugo @raspberrywind @losver-kaspbrak  @geckolover001 @its-stranger-than-you-think @gazebo-motherfucker @waypunsarelife @reddietofall @happytozier @librablossom @aesteddie @tapetayloe@spagheddi-kaspbrak @sadhelianthus @adhdtozier @justcallme-trashmouth @fuckboyrichie  @bandaids @20gayteeneds @richietoaster @burymestanding @speakslowtellmelove @notsugarandspice @richiefuckfacetozier @noahsschnapp @mrs-vh @adhdtozier @loveoflosers @constantreaderfool @lizacore @yikesitsrylee

[daisychains4]

Can’t Handle You | Chapter 10: Lisbon

Can’t Handle You | Masterlist

Warnings: None

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

No one was more excited when the tour bus pulled into Lisbon than Shawn. Not only did he love Portugal for the family history there - it’s where his dad grew up - but Shawn’s parents were coming to visit. He hadn’t seen them in almost a month, and he missed them more than he was ever prepared for.

It would be a hectic day, and Manny and Karen wouldn’t arrive until later, so Shawn and the boys hit the gym immediately after deboarding the bus. Shawn looked forward to working out every day, but today he had a lot of nervous energy to burn off.

Maybe that’s why you were surprised to find Shawn’s reply to your note. You had expected him to be too busy and distracted to write back until a few more cities had passed by your bus window.

Shawn’s note wasn’t as long as yours, which was not surprising considering your question (What would you name your boat if you had one?), but you couldn’t help but be excited to read it. You allowed yourself to be momentarily distracted from your usual unpacking-Shawn’s-room duties and sat on the edge of the hotel bed to read.

Who says I don’t have a boat already? Shawn wrote. Well ok, I don’t. But now I kind of want one. I think watching the sun go down over Lake Ontario from the bow (yes, I looked that up) of my own sailboat would be kind of amazing. A sport boat, like the kind you could surf behind, would be cool, too. But there’s something about a sailboat that seems really - is romantic the right word? Not like love-romance, but the kind of romantic where everything just seems perfect and beautiful and a little bit magical. Although, come to think of it, watching the sunset on a sailboat could be pretty love-romantic, too.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read. Growing up so close to Lake Travis, you were practically raised on the water. Your mom’s best friend owned a small boat rental business, and you spent every free moment of the warm seasons wakeboarding behind one of his boats, learning to expertly drive the various sports boats he offered, or laying across the deck of Dave’s own Nautique to work on your tan. You’d turned your favorite pastime into a pretty lucrative high school job, working the counter at Dave’s shop and offering boating and wakeboarding lessons on the side. 

You’d always had a pretty romantic, to use Shawn’s word, view of sailboats, though. You often fantasized about sailing out to open sea, standing at the tip of the bow of a catamaran or a schooner, one hand on the jib as you leaned out over the water. That particular image may have come from an old Audrey Hepburn photo your mom had shown you (your mom had an obsession with old Hollywood starlets). 

Either way, you felt your heart race a little at Shawn’s words - especially the implication of a romantic sunset cruise. Was he flirting?

Maybe one day we’ll meet, and we can sail off into the sunset together - at this, you stopped breathing altogether; that definitely felt like flirting to you - on The Firebolt. Mischief Managed? Maybe I’d call it The Patronus. I’ve got some time to come up with the perfect name, but it’ll definitely be Harry Potter themed. 

We won’t be sailing anywhere before you answer my next question: What exactly is your job? I don’t think I’ve ever had a “handler” before.

You could have been reading and rereading Shawn’s notes for one minute or ten - you lost track of time until you heard the jiggle of a doorknob, and you practically jumped out of your skin. Someone was opening the door to Shawn’s room. For a fleeting second, you wondered whether you should hide. But you knew that idea was ridiculous the moment it crossed your mind - imagine if Shawn opened his closet to find you tucked down beneath his clothes? You would look like a crazy stalker. No, you had every right to be in his room - it was your job to be there - and it was bound to happen anyway. Eventually. You just weren’t ready for it to be today, right now, that you’d meet him.

The door opened before you had time to move, and in walked a tall blonde woman with a large tote bag slung over her shoulder. She was beautiful, and you knew instantly who she was. When her eyes connected with yours, a surprised expression crossed her features. You could see her calculating the situation - you, a woman not much older than her world-famous rockstar son, were sitting on the bed in that rockstar’s hotel room as though waiting for him - and you hastily wanted to correct the conclusion that seemed to settle itself awkwardly across her face.

“Mrs. Mendes!” you exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and stuffing Shawn’s note in your back pocket. You crossed the room quickly, reaching out a hand toward her - to shake her hand or take her bag, you weren’t sure.

“Hello,” she replied cautiously, still confused by your presence in her son’s hotel room. She wasn’t naive by any means, but she was still a mom being confronted by a strange woman in her son’s bedroom. She reached for your hand.

“I’m (Y/N),” you said, shaking her hand. “We spoke on the phone last week.” Realization began to dawn on Mrs. Mendes’ features. “About Shawn? And his laundry?” 

“(Y/N), of course!” she beamed, understanding that you weren’t Shawn’s latest hookup but rather an employee. “You’re the one who’s been taking such good care of my son!” At this, she pulled you in for a warm hug, which you happily returned.

“I do what I can,” you said bashfully. “Let me take that for you,” you said, motioning toward the bag on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she replied kindly. You took the bag and set it gently on the desk for her. She went to the bag and opened it, pulling from it a few objects you assumed were meant to make Shawn feel at home. “I couldn’t resist,” she said, indicating the device she had pulled from the bag. “I miss taking care of my boy,” she said in her charming Canadian/British accent. 

“I understand, Mrs. Mendes.”

“Please, (Y/N), call me Karen. We’re on the same team, after all.”

You beamed. “What is that?” you asked as Karen plugged in the device. 

“It’s a diffuser for essential oils,” she responded. “I live by my oils.” You thought you understood, now, where Shawn got his penchant for all things natural.

“I can see why,” you smiled. “I’m never doing laundry without lavender oil again.”

“You like it?” Karen asked, pleased.

“I love it! I couldn’t believe how good the laundry smelled when it came out of the dryer. I did Shawn’s and mine with lavender and I’ll never go back to regular dryer sheets.”

“So you really do Shawn’s laundry?” Karen seemed surprised. “He’s really getting the rockstar treatment now.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Karen seemed disappointed by this information, and for some reason, the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint her. “Part of the job,” you muttered uncomfortably.

Karen sensed something was wrong. “Don’t get me wrong!” she said apologetically. “I often do Shawn’s laundry back home. I just worry about him,” she confessed. “This has been his life for so long,” she indicated the ritzy hotel room, “I worry about how we’re going to keep him grounded. You hear so much about the other child stars, I sometimes think that if they did their own laundry, they wouldn’t turn out so...” She trailed off, but you knew what she meant.

“I don’t think you have to worry about Shawn,” you replied in the most reassuring voice you could muster. “He seems really humble.”

Karen didn’t answer right away, distracted by the tiny bottles of oils she was pulling from her bag. You wondered what they were each supposed to do, and thought learning about essential oils might be the next task to keep you busy on a long bus ride. 

“Seems humble?” she finally asked. “What do you mean?” She looked up at the mirror above the desk to your reflection, and it felt, somehow, as though she were looking right through you.

“Well, I just mean,” you stammered, “that it always looks like he puts everyone else first. It doesn’t ever look like he thinks he’s the center of the universe. Which is pretty impressive, considering this tour is all about him, really.”

“Does he put you before himself?”

Your stomach did a flip. How could you explain your friendship-that-wasn’t-a-real-friendship to Shawn’s mom? 

“I think he would,” you replied uncomfortably, “if we ever talked to each other.” There. It wasn’t quite a lie - you’d never had a conversation with Shawn. Only notes written on scraps of hotel paper, passed back and forth between you via the pockets of jeans and the lining of bags. “I work sort of in the background,” you finished lamely. “I’ve never actually met Shawn.”

At this admission, Karen turned to face you. “I know,” she replied. “I just don’t know why.”

This would be harder to explain, but you found yourself trying anyway. “To be honest, I’m not sure there’s a really good reason anymore,” you started. “When we left for Amsterdam, I asked Andrew - he’s my boss - to hold off on introducing me to Shawn. I wanted to spend some time observing him to get to know him first. Shawn seemed like the type of guy who would go out of his way to take care of other people, and, well, it’s my job to take care of him. I think that would make him uncomfortable, and ultimately make my job harder.”

Karen nodded her head in understanding. “You’re right about that,” she admitted. “But what about now?”

You had to think about this one. You had observed Shawn enough by now to be able to anticipate his needs and wants pretty well. He knew you existed, and he knew you were the one who followed him around, packing and unpacking his luggage, washing his clothes, shopping for him, prepping the green rooms at stadiums across Europe. He’d hinted in today’s note that he wanted to meet you. “I guess it just seems easier this way,” you said lamely, knowing this wasn’t a real answer. 

“He talks about you, you know,” Karen said, catching you completely off-guard. Your head snapped up to meet her eyes, the eyes you’d been avoiding as you answered her question. “He tells us about the things you’ve done for him.” You could feel your cheeks heat up. “You’ll have to give me that tea recipe, he went on and on about it. Said it was a miracle.”

“I can write it down for you,” you said, happy for the change in subject.

“Just text it to me,” she said. “You have my number, right?” You nodded. “I do hope you’ll use it.”

You knew why Shawn loved his mom so much. It was true that he probably couldn’t get away with anything around her; she was too smart, too observant. But despite the fact that she could apparently see right through you, she didn’t push. She told you just enough to let you know she knew there was more to your story, but didn’t pry or make you feel bad about holding back. You knew she would listen if - when - you wanted to talk.

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

Shawn was on a high unlike any other when he finally crashed in his hotel room that night. The show had been as perfect as a show could get, and his parents had been there to see it for the first time. They’d had an incredible dinner together, and he’d hugged on both of his parents enough to satisfy him for the next month on tour. He fell into his bed, grinning from ear to ear. What a night.

He was almost too distracted to notice that he didn’t get a reply from you. He went to sleep wondering where he would find your next note.

Taglist | @librarianct, @5secondsofjade4499, @theetherealbloom, @lukesmyaesthetic

[johnnymundano]

Habit (2017)

Directed by Simeon Halligan

Screenplay by Simeon Halligan

Based on the novel by Stephen McGeagh

Music by Claude Foisy

Country: United Kingdom

Running Time: 96 minutes

CAST

Jessica Barden as Lee

Elliot James Langridge as Michael

William Ash as Ian

Roxanne Pallett as Alex

Sally Carman as Mand

Andrew Ellis as Dig

Louis Emerick as Dave

Joanne Mitchell as Katie

Nina Johnston as Mother 

Robert Beck as Grant

Emmanuel Ighodaro as Sean

Nigel Travis as Ray

Sally Bankes as Nurse

Mark Sheals as Chuck

Tom Wells as News Reporter

Hayley Thomas as Girl

Garth Maunders as Eddie

Natalie Ferrigno as Employment Agency Advisor

(I nicked the pics offa that there IMDB; don’t tell me parole officer, awright? Wink’s as good as a nod, eh? Sorted.)

Habit is very nearly a very good horror movie; unfortunately a careless ending unwisely opts to lean on clichés from a different genre. Which is a crying shame because until then you could easily think Habit is really onto something. C’mon, you plucky fucker, c’mon….but, no, in the end it craps out. Habit is based on a novel I haven’t read, so maybe the failure was baked in, I don’t know; I only know it flops frustratingly in the final act. The good news, though, is that there are two very good acts before that happens, and the final act isn’t all that bad; it just doesn’t carry the canny groundwork of the first two to a suitable conclusion. Basically, it suddenly and inexplicably forgets its core metaphor, which is highly peculiar because it’s such a strong one. See if you can spot it. Clue: the title.

Michael is a young scrote in Manchester, pubbing it, and, when the meagre dole allows, clubbing it. He’s a nice enough lad, but a bit easily led; usually by Dig, the typical mate who causes trouble and scarpers, leaving you in the lurch. Not a lot of oomph about Michael, maybe because of a traumatic incident in his past. Strike that; definitely because of a traumatic incident in his past, and it’s done a more obvious number on his sister, Mand, who is trying to live the straight life but is only just clinging on by her fingernails. Getting pissed, getting into trouble, driving his overprotective sister to distraction; it’s life as Michael knows it. But Michael’s comfortably numb life changes when elfin but pushy Lee barges her way into his life. Lee has a bit more about her and a few more connections to boot. Soon Michael is minding the door at a massage club as Lee and the owner, Ian, draw him into an even deeper underworld, where Michael gets a taste of something that makes life feel fookin’ magic, but is definitely illegal. Can Michael cope with the new knowledge the habit brings about himself, and can he help poor Mand, or will circumstances conspire to force an escalation in the horror and birth a climactic eruption of violence. It’s a horror movie, so no prizes for guessing, pal.

One area where Habit wins and wins big is in its authenticity. The characters feel like real people. I recognise these people from my own somewhat less than gilded past. Well, most of them; I’ve never been in a massage parlour so I’ll take the portrayal of “the girls” on trust. Elliot James Langridge is way too buff for a doley subsisting on Pot Noodles and lager, but he gives Michael a nicely reluctant air about, well, everything in the early stages. And, given what happens later, the fact he retains a very human, very sympathetic air throughout is quite remarkable. It’s important for Habit to work as well as it does, that both Michael and Lee never lose their appeal, and Jessica Barden as Lee holds her end up by never taking bolshy to an irritating extreme. Andrew Ellis as Dig is purely irritating; but that’s his whole point, that’s his character. What a dickhead, is precisely the reaction Andrew Ellis is after; and he gets it. William Ash as Ian is well good as the kind of dodgy geezer who is always seductive company; bit of a lad, inne? But Sally Carman as Mand deserves special mention. Her character could quite easily have come off as shrill and needy, a proper horrorshow, a bit of a mare, yeah? But instead we have a quite affecting display of mental illness in action, particularly that terrible bit where unfounded optimism leads to a horrible unravelling. I felt for Mand, you know. Hell, I felt for all of them. Except Dig; what a twat.

Habit builds these characters up well, and the actors give them sprightly life and it’s all very believable, all very kitchen sink. For a horror set in the mundanity of the everyday its vital that nothing rings false. A lot of Habit’s success in this is also down to a pitch perfect portrayal of Manchester after dark. It’s been a long while since I soiled the streets of Manny (you could smoke in pubs; and we did, we did) but I still recall the vibe, the weak neon glare off wet stone, the squawking of drunk lasses and the muffled thump of the lads kicking someone’s head in down an alley. Habit does a lovely job with Manchester, does it proud. Habit has characters, atmosphere and pacing, and for much of the run time it controls them adroitly. But having thought of a new way to consider an old subject, it suddenly finds it has nothing to say and decides to end like a 1970s Paul Schrader movie.  It’s not an altogether terrible ending, but Habit needed a better one. But so does Michael. And Lee. And Mand. And all of us. Except Dig. Christ, what a twat.

[divas-k]

Dress to Oppress – Walls and Overalls

Today, we unravel the threads of time and tradition, and weave a new norm.

The dilemma of deciding what to wear is universal. But in an age where gender and sex are spectrums rather than definite lines, we must re-examine the stereotypes (‘tom-boy’, ‘slutty’, ‘sanskari’) we have woven with respect to the clothing choices of those around us. Furthermore, questions like “Who wears the pants in your relationship?” only deepen the scars of prejudice, and misguided notions of masculinity and/or power. Such erroneous judgments continue in assigning gender and/or sex to colours. While in the early 20th century, the trade publication Earnshaw’s Infants’ Department, mentioned that “pink, being a more decided and stronger colour, is more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, is prettier for the girl.”, by the 1940s, the tide had turned altogether. However, regardless of this timeline, an earnest plea to the reader would be to leave the rainbow alone.

Then, there are those who advocate ideals of equality and freedom of choice, and admonish men wearing dresses (read Jaden Smith at prom), all in the same breath. Say, if a woman wore a tuxedo to her wedding, one would witness all dainty facades of acceptance and support flying off the shelves. Admittedly, open-mindedness is easier in theory than in practice, and hypocrisy a smoother path to traverse than honesty. The question is- are you willing to take the road less travelled?

Further, dear reader, recall the stunning, overexposed shots of testosterone-fueled, muscled men, armed with spears and shields, skin slick with sweat, clad in plumed helmets and fustanellas (a traditional Greek skirt) in Zack Snyder’s dramatic fictionalized retelling of the Battle of Thermopylae within the Persian Wars. Fixated as you may be on the seeming juxtaposition in the above description, of brave men wearing skirts, I shall clarify, that I speak of the box office success, ‘300’.

Moreover, consider the Scottish, who, in donning the kilt, were concerned with convenience and comfort for their male warriors and employed several practical uses of the garment- apart from shielding one’s body from nature and clothing one’s frame. The kilt could serve as a camping blanket, and was worn over a full-sleeved garment stopping below the waist (léine); loose-fitting, it enabled the wearer to make distant, long marches with agility and to wade through rivers. The upper half could be worn as a cloak over the shoulder, or brought up over the head for protection against the weather. Now, as queer (in more ways than one) as it may seem for some, to witness warriors donning an article of clothing reserved for the ‘weaker’ sex, when you come to think of it, it may be wiser and more comfortable for males to don skirts and females to wear pants, for obvious anatomical reasons.

Having said that, one should be free to clothe themselves as they see fit, regardless of the anatomy of their body. This free will is embodied in Megan Fox’s parenting style, whereby she abstains from enforcing stereotypical dress-codes for her children; in conversation with Jimmy Kimmel, she mentioned how her son, Noah, likes to wear dresses sometimes. Parents all over the world should take notes from the Transformers star, who said, “…there are no rules- you can be whatever you want to be in my house!” Moreover, skirts have made their way into men’s fashion through celebrities; Jared Leto, David Beckham, David Bowie, Jaden Smith, Kanye West and Vin Diesel have all worn skirts proudly.

Why, though, must we view these developments as achievements to be proud of, rather than commonplace occurrences that are treated with normalcy? I suppose we have, indeed, come full circle- where once, Luisa Capetillo and Katherine Hepburn went against the tide and donned trousers, the garment of revolt (the former went to jail for the supposed ‘crime’, though charges were dropped later), the dawn of the twenty first century brings with it the campaign for men to freely wear ‘feminine’ clothes. This is baffling, juxtaposed with the fact that cultures across the world started out with simple, flowy, dress-like garments meant for both the sexes - from the Roman toga, to the Indian lungi, and the Japanese kimono (to name but a few) - which were differentiated and altered into gender-specific clothes. Having said that, the response to the present hue and cry for gender-neutral clothing has not been met satisfactorily; despite the promise of equality, the unisex garment has essentially been of a ‘masculine’ style. Needless to say, we have miles to go in this area.

But clothes aren’t where it all ends; cosmetics form an integral component of fashion trends and the way one wears them (or doesn’t, depending on one’s preferences) reflects a person’s projection of themselves as much as their clothes do. Men have found their footing in the cosmetics industry, debunking the myth that makeup can’t be ‘macho’. This comes amid a larger investigation into traditional gender boundaries in fashion and beauty, alongside the growth of internet-famous beauty fanatics who have built followings via social media. Take, for instance CoverGirl’s latest face, James Charles, 17, a high school senior from Bethlehem, N.Y., with nearly 650,000 followers on Instagram and over 90,000 subscribers on his YouTube channel. Following suit, Maybelline unveiled their first ever male model, Manny Gutierrez, the 25-year-old “beauty boy”, with a whopping 3 million followers on Instagram and 2.1 million YouTube subscribers.

And then there is the eventful history of high-heels. From Medieval Persia to Carrie Bradshaw, the elevated shoe has come a long way. Initially donned by Persian noblemen as riding shoes, the heel enabled a steadier stance so that the rider could shoot his arrow more effectively while standing up in the stirrups. European royals took notice when Persian monarch, Shah Abbas went to tour European courts around the 1500s. And so the Persian style shoes were adopted by the aristocracy who felt it lent their demeanor a masculine edge, until it was eventually taken over by women.

Cut to the present, where more men are adopting the style originally meant for them, dispelling invisible boundaries and gender norms. In 2014, Yanis Marshall auditioned for the talent show Britain’s Got Talent; the part French, part British dancer combined his passion for dance and his undying love for high heels, and along with his two friends Arnaud and Mehdi, won the hearts of everyone who was watching. Sure-footed (in 6-inch heels, no less) and sassy as can be, the trio stunned the crowd and received nothing but adoration and respect from the judges, with their up-beat and bold moves on numbers by the Spice Girls and Beyoncé, among others. When asked why he dances in high heels, Yanis replied with the same answer he has always uttered, i.e.- “Why not?”

And truly, that is a question we must all ask ourselves. Why can’t men wear high heels? Why must make-up be withheld from the masculine? Why should women worry about being looked down upon for wearing a tuxedo instead of a dress? Can the walls we see around us be crossed and broken? More importantly, who built them to begin with? In part, we all are culprits, and these walls stand testament to our crime. Every naysayer has placed a brick and a dollop of mortar. It seemed a small contribution at the time- but then, no individual water drop holds itself responsible for the flood.

And while, as a general rule, things are easier to break than build- these walls are standing exceptions. We must all resolve to make a small indent, to chisel away yet another bit of prejudice, and to bury away our notions, in order to break the walls that separate us from each other, and ourselves. For, there are those amongst us who do not identify as either male or female- everything is not, after all, simply black or white. But this human tendency, an obsession almost, to put things into neat, tiny little boxes, has imprisoned some of our own; the breaking of these walls may be the first step for some of us to see ourselves in the clear light of day and do justice to who we truly are.

After all, walls are only so good as long as they protect and support us. But when they begin separating us from reality, and each other, it’s time to start considering cutting a few doors into them. And even if we don’t find the courage to cross those doors immediately, at least we’d have let in a bit of light from the other side.

[kyrobooks]

Claire's Apocalypse

“A short story succinctly told. Well packed details flesh out the characters. Conflicts between characters brings depth and makes the story development alive.” -Goodreads Reviewer

Get it free on Amazon: mybook.to/Clairesapocalypse or Nook/Kobo/Apple/Other Stores: https://books2read.com/u/bzeJ5q

Claire’s Apocalypse

The Official Preview

Claire’s hands trembled, sending a few drops of coffee from her mug onto the bright tabletop. Silently losing the battle with her nerves, she set the mug down. She grabbed her quavering wrist and glared around, baffled at General Bosco’s choice for their meetup. The Mom-and-Pop diner, Manny’s, sat on the outskirts of Richmond, Virginia. Half walls and huge windows, a sea of warm sunlight splashed the burgundy leather booths, painting them orange.

A violent chill tore through her when her nervously twitching thigh grazed the side of the briefcase that was taking up the seat next to her. She didn’t look at it. She simply scooched over, offering up space between her and the package.

Desperate to ease her nerves, Claire gathered that he had picked this place because of the location; it was a safe distance away from DC and Maryland, but still too close for her comfort. It was too civilian. Her heart slammed against her chest whenever a stranger shuffled by, making a way behind the young, smiling server, to a stool at the counter or one of the four booths against the sunlit windows. Whenever a passerby made brief eye contact, Claire suffocated in a heavy blanket of remorse as her insides went cold. They were lucky to be normal; they were simple people having a bite to eat at a diner, early on a Wednesday morning.

Not her. The idea of eating anything made her gut fold.

Claire closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and cleared her mind, shutting out the cold shoulder Joel had passed her as she left the cabin that morning. Her stomach clenched as images of his saddened face crossed her mind. Her husband’s disappointment was new to her. On a normal day, Claire was the sensible one, making the hard decisions— putting food on the table and a roof over their heads. She had paid off their student loans and sent Amelia to the best private school in DC. Joel, however, lived in his age-old dream of rocking out at gigs and basking in the glory of his stoner fans.

Claire skimmed over the goodnight kiss she landed on Amelia’s forehead after her bedtime story the night before. For the first time ever, the girl didn’t care to return the favor.

The people she worked so hard to please treated her like a ghost: an invisible nuisance.

Shaken by the realization, Claire felt tears well up in her eyes.

Get it together, Claire, she said to herself.

Falling back into their good graces wasn’t entirely impossible.

We just need to get to Mexico . . . 

Her heart lightened as she imagined Joel on stage at some desert dive, grappling the mic and thrashing his blond mop as he nodded to the band, introducing the unsuspecting masses to that horrible sound he called music. Fitted leather pants and old ripped t-shirts would become his everyday attire. Once they left, Joel could be whatever he wanted; they’d all assume new identities.

And Amelia was too young to hold grudges.

Claire pushed air through her pursed lips, forcing the negative thoughts out and allowing the sound of clacking dishes and murmuring diners to fill the space between her ears. Meditation brought down an easy comfort, eliciting a smile as she drifted free of worry.

Free of the outcome.

Free of the mess altogether.

After all, this wasn’t her fault. The Army could thank themselves for such a moronic decision as firing the country’s top Infectious Disease Biochemist. Claire’s thirst for innovation and push for success had gotten her into the military’s Bioweapons Program. After years of trial and error, the moment for her innovations to see the sun had drawn close, shedding the top-secret layer the department cloaked it under for nine years. After the early battle with genome manipulation and the tedious process of nailing down the virus’s gene expression, V6790H-7, or V7, was more lethal than any army of men. The virus was a work of art, fulfilling its mission of hijacking the human body in a matter of moments while bypassing immune intervention. The aggressive takeover forced symptoms that aided in quick transmission, making breathing near the infected a death sentence.

The creation came from Claire’s mind; she’s the true genius that brought it to life.

And no one can take that from you, she thought. No one is smart enough to try.

She picked up the coffee again, this time with steady hands. The nervous jitters subsided as she sipped, allowing the coffee to warm her. She smiled as faith grew in her chest. Relieved, she made up her mind. Make the trade and get out of here. Before she could get her family out of the US, however, she needed to unload the heavy burden sitting in the briefcase next to her, threatening her very survival and taunting her willingness to release it to a new owner—someone who’d pay handsomely for the power it represented.

Feeling her hands go clammy, she frowned. No. No. This is not your fault! she thought, fighting back tears. This is the only way. Take the money and flee, she recited—her mantra for the morning.

She cringed at the thought of General Murry slapping cuffs on her. His pompous cackle would mock her during her short sentence in Guantanamo Bay; that is, if they didn’t kill her on sight…

Or get it on Amazon free: mybook.to/Clairesapocalypse

[georgiegirl8-blog1]

Fics I’m currently looooovin’

I’m feeling like I need to broadcast some love right now, and share a few of the amazing Bughead fics that have captured my heart lately. There are too many good ones, but here are just a few that I’m currently hooked on:

As promised in the tags, this one by @mogitz​ shattered my heart into a million pieces in the best possible way and I can’t get enough of the delicious angst.

splintering

(40496 words) by

mogitz

Chapters: 4/?

Fandom:

Riverdale (TV 2017)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Alice Cooper/FP Jones II

Characters: Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper, Jellybean Jones, Gladys Jones, FP Jones, Alice Cooper, Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge

Additional Tags: Angst, Break Up, Heartbreak, alternate season 2, I plan on shattering your heart into a billion pieces, then clumsily gluing it back together, Eventual Smut, emotion, get you permission slip ready for this FEELZ TRIP, Sorry Not Sorry, You will cry.

Summary:

In the weeks following the Jubilee, Betty and Jughead struggle to figure out what his new 'family' means for their relationship. Afraid for Betty's safety and filled with self-doubt, he pushes away from her - but will Betty let things fall apart so easily or will she fight for the person she loves the most? Repost of a fic I impulsively deleted two months ago. Enjoy.

I’m obviously preaching to the choir here but the latest roommates AU by @lazydaizies​ is like gahhhhh guuhhhh so hot it melts my brain.

Oops, I Think I Love You

(38982 words) by

LazyDaizy

Chapters: 6/?

Fandom:

Riverdale (TV 2017)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Jughead Jones & Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones / Betty Cooper

Characters: Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, Alice Cooper, Reggie Mantle, Original Characters

Additional Tags: AU, Roommates, Strangers, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Coffee Shops, the bar, Sharing a Bed, oops you're naked, Angst, lots of tropes, Eventual Smut, Smut, Accidental Dating, Sharing a Bath, Cuddles, snuggles, Falling In Love, Anxiety, slight self harm, oh no! i'm making out with my best friend whatever shall i do, friends to oblivious dumbasses with crushes, do friends do this?, back rub during PMS anyone?, hold me while i cry, oops sorry blame the morning ;), you're my roommate and i'll objectify you if i want to

Summary:

When his best friend kicks him out for apparently being a hindrance to his sex life, Jughead Jones sees a paper in the lobby of their apartment building, someone on the top floor looking for a roommate. It seems too good to be true but he grabs the number anyway. He wasn’t expecting the occupant to be a beautiful blonde, his age, who really just wanted someone around. Betty Cooper wants a roommate. She doesn’t need a roommate for financial reasons, she just hates being alone. Nobody seems like a good fit until the brooding writer/bartender applies for the room. On his promise that he was quiet and clean and not a serial killer (that’s important), she rents him the room.

(The fact that he was extremely good looking had nothing to do with it.)

(Really.)

The friendship is forged immediately and soon they find themselves in an awkward position where it appears to everyone like they’re a couple and they can’t seem to explain why they aren’t.

What happens when they suddenly realize they are basically dating, they just never meant to?

Speaking of hot, @HappilyShanghaied's El Nino ticks that box and then some. I mean.... "She’d had men before, enjoyed sex for what it was, but it was never like this. Not even close. The perfect stretch of him inside of her, the scent of his skin, the way his fingers dug possessively into her body, leaving impressions in their wake—this was an entirely different animal altogether." There's blinding-hot sex and sweetness AND a perfect dose of humour.

El Niño

(42607 words) by

HappilyShanghaied

Chapters: 8/?

Fandom:

Riverdale (TV 2017)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge

Characters: Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews, Toni Topaz, Reggie Mantle, Jellybean Jones, Alice Cooper (Archie Comics), Cheryl Blossom

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, But not too slow bc they are horny, Manny!Jughead, Betty is sexually frustrated, Awkward Flirting, This apartment is too small for them not to eventually bang, Nanny AU, tropey trope trope, All The Tropes, Weathergirl!Betty, Light Angst

Summary:

When Betty's sister Polly runs off to join a cult and leaves her three-year-old son in Betty’s custody, she scrambles to find a nanny to watch him while she's at work. Betty’s best friend, Veronica, assures her she'll find Betty the perfect nanny. She’s not wrong.

***

“Everything was fine until this fucking heat wave hit and he started walking around half-dressed and sweaty all the time. I can’t stop staring at him like some pervert. I feel like one of those sleazy characters on ‘Mad Men’.” Betty bit her bottom lip in irritation.

“Hmm, you do rock a rather Betty Draper aesthetic.”

“I meant Don Draper, not Betty!” The studio car pulled up to the corner and Betty got into it, sighing as her warm skin soaked up the chilled air. “Maybe the heat is just frying my brain?”

“Or, maybe, you just need to get laid?” Veronica suggested, unhelpfully.

“Obviously, I need to get laid, but it’s not going to be by the guy watching my nephew. I can’t exactly escape back to my place when the whole thing goes sideways, can I? And that’s assuming he doesn’t find me repulsive and bolt in the night after my advances,” She huffed into the receiver as her back collided with the leather seat. “This is a disaster.”

And last but DEFINITELY not least -- Modern Love by @stillscape in which our characters are all grown up but rediscovering the complexity of the feelings they never confronted in high school. God, this one is so lovely and just achingly real.

modern love

(14297 words) by

stillscape

Chapters: 4/?

Fandom:

Riverdale (TV 2017)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones

Characters: Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones, Polly Cooper, Dagwood Cooper, Juniper Cooper, Toni Topaz, Archie Andrews

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary:

Beneath the headline, beneath the cartoonish illustration of a girl with a ponytail and a boy with a beanie seated across from one another at a desk, he sees the words By Elizabeth Cooper.

It is, he tells himself, a very common name. But what if…

What if.

Or: The one where Jughead finds out the past wasn't exactly what he thought... via the New York Times "Modern Love" column.

[bondedbrotherhood-blog]

Familiar tension

written by @MurhderBDB  @TenaciousDoctor and @SympathAssassin

Murh:  

Fuck this shit  *Jane was the first person to get my aggressive vibe and she was visibly cautious.  Not that I could blame her but my aggression was not aimed at her or anyone here.  It was aimed at those fucking lessers that kept coming at us on 10th.  It was as if they were crawling out of the walls and kept multiplying.  We all took a hit.  In some way or another.  I took a bullet to the abdomen and here I was.  Pissed the fuck off and Jane has to deal with it.  I felt a great deal of relief that she didn’t refer me to the human doc or send me to Havers’s.  But that didn’t change my mood.*

Stitch me up.  I want to go back out there and get those fuckers!

Jane:  *Every room in the medwing had one or two casualties in, and between Manny, myself and Ehlena we were working down the priority list as fast and effectively as we could.  Murh’s aggression added frustration to an already stressful night, and I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit*

You’re not going anywhere.  Sit your ass down and keep quiet so I can do my work.  If you don’t cooperate, I will transfer you to Harvers’s clinic.  Are we clear?

*The response was a half hearted nod and I expected as much, but I was done being bullied by Murh and his anger issues.  The past few months between Murh and Manny screwed me up and I almost lost myself in the process.  Now that I was done dealing with the both of them, I was back on track to being myself.

I cleaned the wound and removed the bullet after anaesthetising the area.  One good thing about my vampire patients were that they handled pain very well.  After stitching up the wound, I turned and left the room to check in on Xhex who had come in earlier after a fight at the club turned nasty and Rehv insisted she gets checked out by us.

Walking into the room, I picked up Xhex’s chart and removed the pen from the pocket of my white coat*

How are we doing?  Wanna tell me what happened and where it hurts?

Xhex:  

Opening an eye looking around. Where the fuck am l? The events from the night before started to come back to me, I was outside the club when a disturbance had happened. Some humans had began fighting in the queue, they were getting impatient and decided to take their frustration out on each other. I had come outside to break it up when I felt a sharp pain in my lower back, I had been literally stabbed in the back. Fuck those fuckers were going to pay for this. I lost my concentration for a second letting my symphath side loose, feeding off their pain and abuse. A face abruptly came into view, Trez was shaking his head.

“Boss says you're going to the manse clinic where you can heal properly. He saw everything from his office”

Before I could protest Trez had bundled me into his car and had drove me up to the gargoyled monstrosity. Trez carried me to the clinic where the human female  doctor was waiting for our arrival. How I am going to kick Rehv’s ass for this, he knew full well how much I hated clinics. My anxiety rose, I thrashed against Trez till the female doctor and stuck a needle into my arm. It was lights out.

Waking in the bed in the clinic wondering on how long I had been here when the door opened. The human female doctor entered, she picked up the clipboard looking at what was written on it.

“How you feeling? Are you going to tell me what happened?”

I hated sharing, I wasn't going stay here for a second longer, I had business to sort out.

“No offense but I can heal quick. I need to be out of here”

Getting out of the bed, I stood up, my feet and legs baring my weight. Right bathroom, shower and dressed. I took one step forward and collapsed in a heap by the bed.

Murh:

*Jane treated me like another patient.  It pissed me off to be treated like I was nothing but a patient of hers.  I was more.  I demanded more.  But I kept my mouth shut because right now I was gonna blow my lid and fuck things up even more than I had before.  I bit down hard on my tongue tasting blood as Jane finished up and left the room.

I felt aggravated and pissed as hell.  Why the fuck did this female have this mind fucking dominance over me.  I wanted to let go with everything I fucking had in me but every time I heard her voice or saw her or even the mention of her name had me doing backflips.  FUCK.  

I listened as Jane opened the door of the room next to mine.  A sudden chill hit me and I wanted to stab something.  I had no fucking idea why I felt like this but it was a vigorous and nauceating feeling.  My stomach twisted and I fell back against the pillows.*

Jane:  *My green eyes flickered over Xhex, scanning for any visible injuries.  I didn’t get a chance to examine her while she was out cold because the med wing filled up so fast but Rehv wouldn’t have told Trez to bring her here if there wasn’t a reason.

As she spoke my eyes kept scanning for signs of discomfort.  She hid the pain well, but as she stood, her legs gave way causing me to lunge forward and grab hold of her.  On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say she was a 10 at being stubborn.  And that put her into the normal category around here*

Easy there.  Let’s get you back on the bed and check you out, okay?

*I didn’t expect a response since Xhex would be pissed at her inability to just get up and walk out.  Using my shoulder I half created a crutch to get her back on the bed and once she was lying down, I started to examine her body.  She had a laceration on her back but other than that everything checked out*  

You’re gonna be just fine, but this laceration is deep and needs internal and external stitches.  I’m going to give you a local anesthetic to numb the general area.  You won’t feel a thing.

Xhex:

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This female will probably think I'm weak, I'm beyond weak but having to use her as a crutch was embarrassing, was a sign that I was not altogether healed up. This was fucking great.

The female doctor went on about having stitches, my body froze at the thought of needles and being prodded and poked, but the female was soothing, her voice gentle as she explained to me what she was going to do. Nodding my head slightly agreeing to this, if I wanted out I had to let her do her thing.

I tried to relax, I had to get out of my head. My body began to hum, the last time my body did this was when he was about. He couldn't be here, the last time I saw him was when he followed me up north to the Symphath colony, when he found out what I truly was. If only I had told him my true nature, if only I had stopped him from following me, if only…

The last I knew of him was on that ghost hunting program, he was the ghost at the B & B in Charleston, South Carolina. He was going by the name of Eliahu Rathboone. I had to admit that was such a shock to see that face stare out from the tv screen.

Murh:

*Staring at the ceiling I wasn’t sure if I was glad to be lying down or pissed off to be in here.  My skin was crawling with a strange sense and a familiar scent that lingered nearby, but I shut it off.  My mind refused to go there.  I wouldn’t even allow myself to think about that scent or who it belonged to.  It’s not like she was here anyway.  It was my mind playing tricks on me.  Yeah.  That was it.

Maybe Jane was right about my mental health but I didn’t give a fuck.  The only thing keeping me sane now was fighting and fucking.  And as soon as I was healed up enough I’d be out there finding and killer lessers and fucking everything that moves.

If Jane came back in here I could maybe persuade her to lose the clothes and hop up on the bed.  The thought of Jane naked and climbing on top of me to ride my cock had me rock hard.*

Jane:  *I sensed a shift in the air as soon as it happened, but I wasn’t sure what it was about.  The atmosphere changed so suddenly and drastically, I had to get up and go have a look to see if there was any evidence of something going down.  I opened the door and popped my head out to look left and right down the tunnels and listen for any commotion, but there was nothing going on.  Weird.

The door swung closed with a soft click as I headed back to Xhex and started prepping for the procedure.  Once she was lying on her stomach, I prepared the injection and took a seat on the rolling stool.  Her eyes followed my every move and her discomfort with needles was evident when I brought the syringe closer*

Tell me a bit more about yourself for medical reasons.  Is there anything in your past, health wise, that I should be aware of?

*The slight diversion worked and I numbed the area around the laceration as well as inside it before Xhex finished telling her story*

Xhex:   

Rolling onto my front for the female doctor to do her thing, but I stiffened as I saw the needle.

“There's nothing medically wrong with me. Hate needles from a past experience”

Shut the fuck up or she be asking more questions I told myself. Luckily she didn't ask any more after that, once the needle had pierced my flesh she got on with stitching my wound up.

When she was done the female doctor helped me onto my back, I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, but when I place my foot onto the floor I couldn't feel a thing.

“What have you done to me? I need out of here like now”

Panic rose inside of me, I tried not to show it on my face. I had to get out of here, away from him. I don't want to know what he would do if he found me here. Shout, yell, trying to kill me. In a way I don't blame him for what I did, but for now it would be safer for others that I bailed now.

“I need out of here NOW!!”

Murh:

*My blood turned cold. The combination of aggression and arousal fucked with my mind. My hand shot down to my cock and gripped tight.  Balls throbbing.  Head spinning.  Cock twitching.  Up. Down.  My hand moved and worked my cock at a slow pace.  Images flashed between blinks. Female after female.  Faces without names.  The numerous females I fucked over the years to get one female out of my mind.  Her face haunted me and I wanted her memory gone.  I wanted the memory of what I saw when I went to find her in that cologny gone.  

By the grace of sheer will the images stopped and I closed my eyes seeing nothing.  A blank canvas.  

My hand kept up the slow stroking.  My eyes stayed closed.  The blank canvas remained long enough to get my aggression under some control and bring my focus back to my arousal.  Release was my aim.  I couldn’t give a fuck about messing all over the sheets.

My hand started pumping faster.  The door opened but I didn’t need to look.  Her scent gave her away and made my cock perform as if it was part of a circus.  Twitch.  Throb. Tingle.

Jane:  *The internal and external stitching went over smoothly, but Xhex still looked tense.  After I dressed the wound, I turned to take my gloves off and place all the gauze and instruments in the stainless steel bowl.  Xhex’s panicked voice brought me whirling around*  

Wait!!  The anesthetic has to wear off first.

*I leaned in and helped Xhex back on to the bed to lie on her side*

I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable, but it won’t take too long and then you will be out of here.  I do recommend that you take two days off to rest and heal up.  

*My words weren’t registering with Xhex.  She was too tense to listen to me, which caused me to change tactic*

Let me go check on the patient next door and when I return, I will take you up to one of the rooms and you can sleep there for a few hours.  I can’t discharge you if you don’t cooperate, and this way you won’t need to be around all the medical things.

*That got her attention and a nod confirmed her intention of a least listening for now.  I gave her a warm smile and turned to go back to Murh’s room, only to find…  Omg…*  Murh, what are you doing?

Xhex:   

The female doctor reassured me that she would have me put into another room. Anything to be away from this room with the medical equipment and of the scent of him.

“I’ll stay till I walk again, I cannot promise for the two days off. I'm needed at the…. Well let's say I'm good at my job”

I heard the doctor go next door where I heard her gasp in astonishment or was it in disgust? Had to be in disgust.

A nurse came in, helping me to the room above the medical ward, I hated being this useless, hated having to be dependent on another. Soon I was settled into the new room. As soon as the anesthetic wore off I was out of here. Another thing I was glad of was there wasn't the scent of him, I was sure I had smelt his scent, I had convinced myself but why now was my mind throwing this spanner at me.

Murh:  

*My hand slid up and down my cock.  My head rolled back on the pillow and FUCK.  Jane walked in and her scent sent me over the edge.  Hips thrusting up to meet the pace my hand was setting.  Jane mumbled something and then turned around to leave the room.  My growl was loud enough to shatter some of the glass in the room.  The words that followed were strained with need and full of warning.*  

You better fucking stay!

*Jane opened the door to speak in hushed tones to another female and then she closed the door and was at my side.  My hand shot out and gripped her arm.  She stood too far away.  I wanted her closer.  I wanted her hand to be doing the stroking.*  

Take over Jane.

*It wasn’t a request.  It was a order.*

Jane:   *As soon as I walked into the room, I turned around and called Ehlena over to help Xhex to a room upstairs.  When I turned back and closed the door, the sight that greeted me was interesting and disturbing.  I was rather familiar with the needs of the vampire males.  There had been many times I had to leave the room for one of them to get their hand action on, but Murh’s words… or rather the order he barked at me, pissed me off like nobody’s business.  

I turned to my right and grabbed a towel and tossed it over at him*

Clean up after yourself and don’t tear your stitches.  I’m going to check on the other patients and Manny will be back to check in on you soon.

*There was growling and cursing and whatever else, but I ignored it and walked out the room, closing the door behind me.  Leaving Murh alone with his hand*  #FamiliarTension   #BondedBrothers  

[believerindaydreams]

yay I wrote an ending! Again!

It is moar endery than last time tho and pleasingly spooky

Arcade

He's legitimately unclear at this point what's real and what isn't.

Christine for instance has abandoned the use of her sniper rifle altogether, relying on a power glove to take on the hordes of feral ghouls that populate the Dunwich Building. She's a trained Brotherhood assassin whose capabilities he's not privy to- how can he guess if her punches and war cries are her own, or impelled by something past the grave?

And the swish of a heavy coat behind him, the cock of a heavy-duty handgun, the sounds aren't there if he stops to listen properly. They're in the fraught moments, when his attention is too bent on surviving a fight to contemplate distractions.

And Boone. Arcade's almost certain his lover isn't here at all; he wouldn't be here empty-handed, with nothing to defend himself. The shoulder of his survival armor is sodden with dark liquid, his breath doesn't mist in the unwholesome chill.

Nothing can persuade him to use the blood-sight down here. It's not hard to see glowing ones, even in the dark.

Christine leads them down through offices and hallucinations, broken dreams and broken steel overlapping. Her instinct's smooth, unerring; not a wasted movement or wrong turn.

Somewhere along the way he gives way to temptation, takes a folded overcoat from his doctor's bag. The pestilent chill needs something sturdy to ward it off.

Christine watches with amusement, her bared teeth white in the dark; and forces shapeless scribal robes over her stealth suit. The hood reminds him of an illustration he'd seen in a burnt book once, an executioner holding the axe.

The dripping from Boone's wound is audible now, in still moments. He doesn't complain.

They're getting closer- the works of humanity have given way to those of nature, caverns lit by ethereal blue fire and populated by the dead. He and Christine cut their passage forward, each step bought with an unholy life, a guttural cry; and his clean holorifle becomes useless without scientific microfusion to support it. He takes out his ripper instead, slashing limbs that don't bleed and bodies without reason, and fights to preserve the ghost he can't even be sure accompanies them.

There is no silent peace to mark the end of their quest, or none he can hear at least; just a dead end, and Christine's voice as they circle, protecting each other's backs. "This is it. Cover me, I'll use the book."

He is certain the word should have been destroy, not use; but the difference is academic in every sense, with the continued influx of ghouls pressing them. There's too many of them. He can see the fallen remaking themselves, disembodied hands scuttling back to tattered limbs, heads rolling slowly back to torsos. They'll never survive this onslaught.

"I have it," Christine says. "It requires two."

She's read ahead and he hasn't; but the intent of the ritual knife she holds is anything but ambiguous. Arcade fends off a glowing one's attack by lopping it in half, wonders how he can buy breathing space from her.

"Christine. Christine, you don't want to do this."

"Yes, I do." She moves in for the kill, and all that saves him is the ridiculous inadequacy of her small knife, compared to all the weapons

His ripper catches it in mechanical teeth, only to shatter into a mess of gears and flying debris. She binds him to the obelisk, with a heavy twine woven from punga vines.

"Please don't...don't. Veronica's gone, this isn't going to bring her back."

"You want me to be rational," Christine says, a tear mixing with the sweat and blood running down her face. "You want me to give up a one in a million chance to bring my lover back, because you live and breath. Arcade. I'd kill my way through a hundred as good and pure as you, for the faintest chance of seeing her one last time."

She swings in the blade for the kill, one sure slash towards his throat; and Veronica Santangelo blocks it. Pushes the knife back on its owner.

"Not again...I can't have a Follower die for me again..."

Christine lets go of the knife, holds Veronica in a sobbing, ecstatic embrace; and then there is finally silence, a moment of pure peace before Veronica draws the knife down, through the back into the heart.

The knife rings out, as it clatters to the floor; the book falls with an obscene rustle of pages. The rest is ash and dust.

Arcade frees himself with a fragment of his ripper, grabs the ritual objects in a vague hope they'll fend anything away, give him power. The mass of ghouls running towards him don't seem impressed.

What does impress them is the unmistakable sound of a 10mm bullet piercing a rotten skull.

Arcade gives up. Calls in the blood-sight the way Boone had warned him never to do, alone and unmoored; and can see the mass of undead approaching this spot, a horde, a flood. The wanderer poised against them.

And somewhere, very far up, a warm human life with a beating heart. A beacon back to everything sane.

"For the Enclave," Autumn says quietly, reloading his pistol.

Arcade meets his gaze, one last time; and throws him the overcoat before running for dear life.

*****

Boone is sleeping outside the entrance when Arcade makes it out, peaceful and untroubled. There's no wound on him.

Arcade shakes his head, liberally avails himself of the medicines and chems Boone's thoughtfully hauled along. What's left should still see them back to Point Lookout, if they're careful.

"You waited for me," he says, when Boone wakes up.

"Sure." The sniper lifts a lid off a pot, sniffs it. "Made that stew you liked."

"Beer and mole rat meat, wasn't it?"

"Something like that."

They eat under a dark sky pockmarked with stars, and the food is warming and the book looks like a book. He thinks he can go back and forget all this, if not forgive it.

"Christine died down there?" Boone asks, around a mouthful of potato.

"Yeah. She...she didn't want to live, without Veronica."

Boone does something that can really only be described as cuddling up to him, flank to flank and an arm against his back. "Glad you disagreed."

"...I think you may have saved my life down there."

There is, he thinks, something very restful about being able to say that and just being offered more soup in response.

"Radio's been buzzing," Boone says after a while. "Seems somebody blew up the Citadel. Funny thing is, nobody's claiming credit."

"Not even the Enclave?"

"Judah came on to say...denouncing in the strongest possible terms, something like that. Three Dog is saying the Brotherhood should sue for peace, whatever suing means."

"I'm not sure that will end well. An Enclave-Brotherhood alliance could be a terrible thing."

"You gonna go back to Raven Rock and do something about it?"

It doesn't take him so long as a breath to make up his mind. "No. You know what? I want to take this book back to the people who were worshipping it, and give them some tips about not letting it be stolen next time. Then I want to weed my herb garden. Then I want to organize the Boardwalk library, and lie in the sun with you and Manny and Carla and Daisy, and just...be. Finish my stimpak research. Stop taking every ill of the wasteland on my shoulders, because there'll never be an end to it."

"Sounds like a good plan. Home."

"Home."

They fall asleep together, for once; and no denizen of the wasteland comes to harm them.

[mayamatiln]

what are you favorite top degrassi seasons?

This question is so difficult!! I’m serious I spent an hour writing down all the seasons and weighing all the pro’s and con’s of each season to figure out the order I would put these in. I know you didn’t ask me to rank all the seasons and tell you why I think that… but I am… because I feel like it… so let’s move from the worst to the best shall we?

18. Season 11 - I hated it the first time I watched it. I hated it the second time I watched it. I don’t plan on sitting through the whole thing ever again. I loved the introduction of Zaya and that is about it. I didn’t ship anything. This was the season that made me stop shipping Eclare which I literally used to OTP so hard. 

17. Season 13 - This was the only season that I ever completely stopped watching because I was so bored. I was still nursing my heartbreak over losing Cam and then all of a sudden they ripped Adam from me too. After that I tried to keep up but I just didn’t really care because it hurt too much. Maya was moving on with Miles (which I still don’t get the appeal) and Zig was all but forgotten up until halfway through. The Paris plot was so stupid. And Alli one of my favorite girls was being uncharacteristically dumb (and she’s not very bright as it is). And to top it all off they gave Clare cancer for about 10 episodes then all of a sudden she was better! (I’m not even gonna mention Ew… I mean Clew) Lol no. Bye.

16. Season 14 - 14B just swooped in and saved the entire show for me. After the longest hiatus the show has ever had and about a year and a half after me only watching this show when I noticed it was on, the promise of seeing Alli Bhandari and Clare Edwards graduating was just enough to pull me back in. So before 14B I binge-watched season 13 and the first half of 14 (because I didnt really pay attention the first time) and BOY IT CHANGED MY LIFE. Not because the storylines were good but BECAUSE. OF. ZAYA. Never in my life had I gone from hating a ship (yeah yeah Zig was trying to break up Camaya so I hated him) to thinking it was the most well built pairing on the show. The rest of 14 was crap though. Zoe forcing people to send boob pics = dumb. Clare’s baby plot = dumber. So yeah I fell in love with Degrassi again because of Zaya and it’s probably the reason I’m here today. 

15. Season 1 - Shocked to find what started it all so low on the list? Yeah me too but that’s the way the cookie crumbles. Overall not much happened this season. It built the world that we left behind in Degrassi High over again and introduced us to the new generation and thats about it. But Sean and Emma’s first date, Emma’s first period, and the ecstasy plot = CLASSIC DEGRASSI. 

14. Season 8 - No one is surprised. Honestly though I LOVEEE this era of Degrassi. This was the first season I watched from beginning to end as it was airing so it will always hold a special place in my heart. Not only did I instantly love Alli and Clare to bits, but finally my all time favorite character Johnny DiMarco had an actual girlfriend and showed that he actually has real feelings. WOW. 

13. Season 9 - Yeah this is only a step up from season 8 because it was the epitome of Dolly J. The chemistry was through the roof. One of the hottest couples Degrassi has ever had. Plus this season had MORE JOHNNY so yeah I loved it but not a huge amount of hot topics were covered. 

12. DNC Season 2 - It covered hot topics but it didn’t really have that spark. I think since it was made at the same time as DNC season 1 that they put so much effort into making the first half great so it could attract more people but yeah it was a bummer. Honestly the only reason it’s above s8&9 is because of the reunion episode and the Craig Manning appearance… I appreciate them attempting the Black Lives Matter plot but it didn’t get me in the gut. I much preferred the Connor and Dallas racism plot in season 13 even if it wasn’t fully fleshed out.

11. Season 10 - This was when Degrassi reinvented itself for the first time and I must say it had me hooked from the beginning. This was when they started airing an episode a day for several weeks and it was so exciting. Everyone was falling for Eclare. And Adam was stealing everyone’s heart. It was so exciting and different and really a breath of fresh air. Were the plots amazing and jaw dropping? No not really but it kept me super entertained and frankly saved the show and I will gladly give the credit where credit is due. But seriously… Eli was better when he was with Morty just sayin…

10. DNC Season 1 - This was the second time that Degrassi reinvented itself and it was MUCH better done than season 10 was. After being so scared of losing the show altogether, seeing the beginning of Next Class really gave me hope. The cast was smaller and so were the lengths of the seasons but they worked so much harder to really make all the plots count and make every minute of screentime the best it could possibly be. After 4 seasons of really long seasons full of random plots that didnt always make the most sense, watching this season felt like coming home to the Degrassi that I fell in love with because for the first time in a long time they really cared about making EVERY plot the best it could possibly be. They still had a couple of kinks and issues to work out but this season really felt like it “went there” again.

9. Season 5 - The first time ever watching the characters you’ve grown up with graduate from Degrassi is one of the hardest things. DTNG’s 100th episode and S5 finale, High Fidelity will still make me cry at the drop of a hat. Watching Paige, Ellie, Marco, and Hazel graduate and thinking that you’ll never see them again still hurts me so much. And the scene where Jimmy forgives Spinner - SO MANY TEARS. Also this season gave us the iconic Manny line “You can sell this for a million dollars because I’m gonna be famous.” Also Darcy and Spinner’s Christianity plot still hold such a special place in my heart.

8. Season 6 - This season was a rollercoaster. One minute I’m flipping out over Sean and Emma being back together then the most heartbreaking TV death in the history of TV ripped my heart out. To this day I cannot watch Rock This Town without bawling my eyes out. I mourned for JT as if I had grown up with him myself. No other fictional character has ever made me feel emotions that were THAT REAL before. As sad as it was it was the moment that sealed Degrassi as my favorite show of all time and even though it’s been 9 years nothing else has even come close. 

7. Season 7 - Probably the darkest season the show has ever had. It began with Darcy’s rape and then followed her entire journey throughout the whole semester. On top of that we see Spinner reach the darkest place he has ever been when he gets cancer. And boy this season was just so sad. Especially with the addition of all the Lakehurst kids who we’d eventually learn to love like Holly J, Jane, Sav and Anya. On top of that we get to see Emma, Manny, Liberty, Toby, Spinner, and Jimmy graduate which really was a LONG time coming. These were the people who began the show and now that they were leaving it truly was the end of the Golden Era of Degrassi. 

6. Season 4 - This was the season that showed how dark the show could really get and it ultimately proved that Degrassi would “go there.” The fact that still to this day one of the most well known pieces of information about Degrassi is that Jimmy got shot by Rick truly iconic. It’s impossible for me to watch Time Stands Still without getting chills. Also this season featured Kevin Smith and who doesn’t love Kevin Smith.

(to be fair these top 5 are all pretty equal in my eyes and the order in which they come changes frequently)

5. DNC Season 3 - The first thing to note about this season is that it was released at 2am in the morning and I stayed up all night and watched the sunrise because I simply had to finish it all in one sitting. After s14 I was sure that the days of Degrassi’s fantastic seasons were through with and when Next Class began I thought there may be potential but this season went above and beyond all of my expectations. For one MAYA MATLIN. I cannot sing enough praises to the writers for treating her depression and suicide attempt in such a realistic way. And Lola’s abortion plot was the best one they have ever done and was handled in the most beautiful way. This season truly was the darkest season since season 7 and everything about it was So. On. Point.

4. Season 3 - Some of the best and most iconic episodes are from this season and they are the ones that time and time again I find myself rewatching because they never get old. Father Figure, Pride, Holiday, Accidents Will Happen, Take On Me, and Rock & Roll High School all have a solid place on my favorite episodes ever list. This season helped to build Degrassi into the longstanding and iconic show that it has become. During this season we no longer had to introduce characters and get used to them. By now we knew most of our main cast and they instantly felt like family - a concept that is the single most important reason why Degrassi is my favorite show ever.

3. DNC Season 4 - Even though it just came out, I could not imagine putting it any lower on this list. This season accomplished everything I could have possibly wanted and more. The genderfluid plot was so well done and it is something I’ve wanted the show to cover for years. And it tackled terrorism and Islamophobia. Not to mention that this season bid adieu to possibly my favorite graduating class that the show has ever had. It gave each and every one of them the respect and closure that they deserved while not granting any unrealistic and too good to be true endgames (*cough* Eclare). The season focused on the characters themselves and not just their romantic relationships and it really solidified who they have become as people and how much they have grown. And best of all it opened the door for a newer class to come in and keep the show going strong.

2. Season 12 - Wow this season came out of nowhere. In the midst of 2 of the worst seasons Degrassi has ever had was this gem. What made it stand out is that for once the writers went into the season with a plan of where they were going and where they wanted the characters to end up. The entire season was building to Cam’s suicide and how all the characters would be affected by it. Therefore this season had more direction and meaning that many seasons before it were severely lacking. Not only was the over arching plot of this season fantastic, the smaller pieces of it were as well. I was so invested in Campbell Saunders from the moment he showed up on my screen. His relationship with Maya became one of my favorites the show has ever done and it also made me love Maya as a character. This season was also the epitome of Eclare’s relationship for me. They were healthy and in love and finally on the same page (well until Bitter Sweet Symphony). We also had fantastic ships like Fimogen, Drianca, Jatie, Jonnor, and the beginnings of Bhandallas to pass the time. And another one of my favorite Christianity plots featuring Jenna took place in this season. This season’s success caught me by complete surprised and drew me in when I was beginning to not care about the show anymore. More specifically Campbell Saunders and Dylan Everrett’s acting saved Degrassi for me. Without that character I don’t know if I would still be watching the show. His character made me believe that Degrassi still had the ability to make me feel these emotions that other TV shows can’t and therefore this season holds such a special place in my heart. 

1. Season 2 - The first time I watched it I did not realize that this would be my favorite season ever. Because to me this season is the Degrassi essentials. It is the bare bones of what makes this show great in every way. Craig’s introduction in When Doves Cry will forever be the greatest introduction to a character I’ve ever seen. It’s so rare to meet a new character and become so drawn in and attached in a single hour that it blew me away. Degrassi introducing Craig as a new character in the season premiere and showing him having an abusive parent was absolutely heartbreaking. To be honest the first time I watched it I didnt understand. I was too young to fully grasp the magnitude of how important this episode was but it was. Moving forward, this season also went on to introduce Marco and Ellie and cover Paige’s rape which was the first time Degrassi truly “went there.” Another personal unsung favorite of mine is Don’t Believe The Hype that shows Hazel’s struggle to accept her heritage and it’s the first plot covering Islamophobia. And how could I possibly not mention one of the most iconic episodes to date, White Wedding that features Spike and Snake getting married with most of their old Degrassi High friends in attendance. This episode also features the cutest most adorable first kiss between Sean and Emma that stole my heart in season 1 but gained OTP status by season 2. In essence, season 2 is the heart of Degrassi.