#also when I'm done if anyone wants to write a fic where they get tricked into taking a romantic getaway parent trap style... feel free

[allgremlinart]

superbat wip... that World’s Finest cover was right, they DO deserve a homoerotic beach vacation..

[ghostofskywalker]

The Galaxy Can Grant A Second Chance

Hunter/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,083

Summary: You didn't think you would ever see them again, but here they were, and you are forced to face the truth behind why you left all that time ago.

Prompt: "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

Note: this is part of the bad batch xreader exchange, which i ran! my prompt came from @knightprincess, and i had a lot of fun writing it! To the see the other fics in the exchange, check out @cloneficgiftexchange :)

i have not seen any of the bad batch season 3 at this point (my brain is hyperfixated on dimension 20 atm), so this is obviously set prior to that, but of course i like to imagine that crosshair eventually finds his way back to his family <3

Clone Troopers Masterlist

The first time you caught a glimpse of the Bad Batch through the window of the mechanic shop you worked in, you were fully convinced it was a hallucination. There was no way they were here now, it had to be a trick of the mind, a manifestation of some guilt you hadn’t yet processed. 

You had left no trace when you disappeared, there was no way they would be able to find you. 

If you had only seen them once, you might have truly chalked it up to some kind of exhaustion (this job certainly had hours different than you were used to working, along with the added stress of the Empire’s rule over the galaxy), but it happened again. This time hours later, you could see what looked like the back of Tech’s head and Wrecker’s hulking frame pass through the crowds on the street. 

As your stomach dropped, you rushed to the shop’s tiny windows, staring out as people walked along the street, trying to catch a glimpse while also keeping to the shadows. And after a few desperate moments, you felt comfortable confirming it: that the Bad Batch was indeed here, on the surface of Tatooine, and you didn’t know why. 

The note you left was more hurtful than you wished it had to be, but you didn’t want anyone trying to follow you. Did this mean they were actively tracking your movements, that they were risking their cover (and their lives) to find you? Or was this simply something of a coincidence, an unfortunate reality that neither they nor you had any part in? If you were too obvious about your presence, and their reason for being here wasn’t related to your disappearance from their ship, you were now risking everything you fought so hard to protect. The bounty on your head had been (and still was) growing exponentially by the day, and after a while you could no longer ignore it. The Empire had placed a hefty price on your head, and it was clear that they were willing to go to great lengths to get what they wanted, making your mere presence dangerous to anyone you cared about.

It was hard enough leaving in the middle of the night like you did, and you hoped that the forces at work in the galaxy would at least have the decency to allow you to grieve the loss of what could have been in peace, because Maker knows you already had enough guilt in your heart, you certainly didn’t need another reminder of the way in which you gave up the best life you’ve ever had. 

And then you saw him, and your heart stopped for a moment. 

Hunter had always been your favorite, and no, it wasn’t because you found his face tattoo incredibly attractive. The two of you had clicked instantly, and as much as you enjoyed hanging out with his brothers, you had a special connection with him. But the galaxy was nothing if not cruel, and it placed you both in a situation where things would never work out, because if you truly wanted more than just a platonic relationship with him, you would have to live with the fact that you were putting him and his entire family at risk with every second you stayed on that ship. 

Leaving was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you knew it was the best option. If something had happened to any of the Bad Batch, you would never be able to forgive yourself, and you would rather see them alive and hating you than the alternative. You thought that peace had already been made, that you finally came to terms with the fact that you lost a gamble on love for the price of keeping them safe, but apparently that wasn’t the case. 

Because here they were, and you were definitely not hallucinating. 

It wasn’t a good idea to keep staring out the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, because this was something you never thought would happen, and therefore had no mental plan in place. 

They were standing across the street, and Omega was scanning her surroundings, as if looking for something. You tried to duck away from the window when you saw her gaze passing by, and you believed that your efforts were mostly successful, but after a while it seemed like she was staring in your shop’s direction more and more. After a few more minutes, you simply ducked away, resigning yourself to begin working on the speeders you had in the back room, because their owners would be coming to pick them up in less than a day, and you hadn’t really done anything yet. 

The day was otherwise eventless, and as the hours passed the feelings of worry, doubt, and anxiety in your stomach started to dissipate. By the time you finished up your repair job on some landspeeders, you thought you might have forgotten what happened this morning.

The bell in your front room jingled, signaling to you that there was someone who needed your help. “I’ll be there in a moment!” you called, quickly finishing up the piece of engine you were installing and grabbing a cloth to mop up the oil stains on your hands (with this line of work dirty hands were expected, but you also didn’t really want to accidentally get some grime on a potential client). 

When you stepped out in the front room, that cloth fell from your hands, and that rock returned to your stomach. 

The entire Bad Batch was standing there, with a full spectrum of expressions on their faces, ones that ranged from calculating (Tech), to smiling (Omega), to nonchalance (Crosshair, who you hadn’t actually met but had seen enough holopictures of to recognize on sight). Hunter stood in the middle of the group, and the look on his face could only be described as a mixture of anger and melancholy. 

You didn’t know what to say. How could you know what to say? How would any combination of words strung together in this moment effectively communicate what you were feeling? 

But it didn’t seem like anyone else was going to say anything, so you had to be the one to break the silence. “Can I help you with something?” You tried to sound professional, but some of your feelings broke through the script. 

Out of everyone standing there, you were shocked to see Crosshair speak up. “We need to have someone look at the central wiring on our droid. Is that something you do here?”

A little surprised at the way he simply inquired about your services, you wondered if the rest of the Batch had not told him about their prior time with you. You thought for a moment before answering. “I specialize more in land vehicles, but I know something about droids, depending on what kind you have. If nothing else, I should be able to take a look at it, and if I don’t have the parts to fix it I probably know someone who does.” 

You had suspicions about what the droid in question would be, because you of course remembered the temperamental gonk droid that also called the Havoc Marauder home. But time has passed since you had last seen them, so you didn’t know for sure if that was what Crosshair was talking about. 

“It’s a GNK-series power droid,” Crosshair said, and you were suddenly aware of all the others’ gazes on you. It was the same droid, but since everyone was acting like they didn’t know who you were, you weren’t going to cause any kind of trouble now. 

“I can definitely take a look at that,” you said, and the rest of the interaction went by in a blur. What felt like moments later you were left alone (after Gonky was brought into your work area), and the room fell silent. A whirlwind of questions spun around in your brain as you searched the rooms of the shop for the parts and tools you would need. 

Did they know you were here before they stepped in the door, or was this all some kind of terrible coincidence? 

If they did know you we here before they walked in, why didn’t anyone say anything? 

And finally, why did the galaxy have to torture you this way? 

Gonky made a noise from the other room, and you just sighed. Of course it wasn’t enough for you to sacrifice your future with Hunter for his (and the rest of his family’s safety), now you had to be reminded of your treachery in what felt like the worst way. 

***

Thankfully you had all the parts necessary to refit Gonky for some new wires, and you communicated that in a message to the Batch, who promised to return in a few hours to pick up the droid. By the time the bells on your door jingled, you thought you were ready to face the people you abandoned once more. 

Until only Hunter stepped through the doorway, a solemn look on his face. 

This time, it was clear he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t know you. “Why did you leave?”

You stopped what you were doing, thankfully managing to hold onto the wrench in your hands so it didn’t go clattering to the floor. “I told you,” you said softly, not wanting to show any sign of regret, of weakness. You were still being hunted, and until the galaxy was free of the Empire’s hold, you had to be aware of that. Lying to him hurt, but you still believed it to be the only option.

“Two lines of scribble on a piece of flimsi isn’t enough,” he said. “And look, I’ve made my peace with things if you truly didn’t want to be around me anymore, but I need to hear it from you.” 

You opened your mouth, all set to force the lie loose from your throat, but you couldn’t do it. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you said. “The Empire has put a price on my head, and I couldn’t stomach being the reason that you, any of your brothers, or Omega got caught.”

“Why didn’t you say that?” he asked. 

At this point, it was taking a lot for you not to break. “Because I thought it would be easier, for all of us. Things between you and me were getting more serious, and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to resist if you asked me to stay.” 

You expected him to respond, to say something about how they would protect you, how you would be safer all together, or for him to even to nod, take Gonky, and leave. You didn’t expect him to start laughing. 

“What?” Now you were confused. 

When he finally stopped, your eyebrows were raised. “You know we have a price on our head that’s almost double the one on yours, right?” 

“No, I-” 

But he cut you off. “Maybe it wasn’t when you ran away, but now? We’ve caused a lot of chaos that the Empire isn’t happy about. We’re actually looking for a way to lay low for a while, and since it was an accident running into you here, maybe you could give us some pointers?”

Well, that was one of your questions answered. There was a hopeful edge to his voice that you found yourself falling for, and you thought that even though you had bolted in the middle of the night, you found yourself foolishly hoping that maybe there would still be a future for you, with him. 

“I’ve got a pretty big place here,” you said softly, and the implication was clear. “I wouldn’t mind if you crashed for a while.” 

Things between you wouldn’t fixed in a day, a week, or a month. There was still work to be done if you ever wanted to get back to the way things used to be, and maybe that was impossible. But you were willing to put that work in, to help mend where you had broken when you slipped out of the ship in the dead of night all that time ago. 

“I’d like that,” he said, and the two of you stepped closer to one another, close enough for him to take your hand. “As long as I don’t have to worry about you running away again.” 

You laughed. "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

- the end -

[jackasswhre]

Hiya idk if your requests are open but if they are can I get a jackass image/fic (Platonic) where reader gets dumped by their partner

This is kinda hard to explain

But yk how some people write a fic and there multiple people in that in fic that's kinda what I'm thinking like something with whatever jackass guys you want

(⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠)

hiiiiii, yes they are open, sorry ive been really busy lately so i havent posted

i did headcanons bc i dont really know how to write full fics, also i did johnny, steve-o, ryan, bam and pontious :) hope you like it!!!!

Platonic!Johnny Knoxville/ Steve-o/ Bam Margera/ Ryan Dunn/ Chris Pontious x reader who has just been dumped

Johnny Knoxville

(im really sorry his is gonna be short bc i have no idea what to write for him)

Ok so i feel like Johnny would definetly hug you and tell you that it's going to be okay

Like some motivational dad talk lmao

Because his way of comforting you is most likely talking about it

And if you don't want to talk about it then he 100% understands and tells you that he's here for you

Probably watches a comedy movie/show with you so you will laugh

Orders takeout or makes food himself

Just like makes sure you feel alright and makes you forget about the person who just dumped you

Does anything you ask him to

In general he's really gentle about it

Steve-O

I feel like Steve-O wouldn't really be into the whole talking thing

I mean like he definetely will listen to you rant if you need to but he just wouldn't really know what to say

It also depends on what era it is

Because if he's sober then he's incredibly sweet and like Johnny probably watches a movie with you

But if he's not sober then he'll 100% suggest going to the bar and getting shit faced after like 10 minutes of hearing you talk about the breakup

And like honestly you two would have so much fun that night

Drinking and laughing

Honestly maybe even crying

If you don't want to go to the bar then he understands and goes by himself

Lmao jk he's not that mean

He might whine a bit but if you really don't want to go then he gets it and you guys probably fall asleep on the couch watching some early 2000s cartoon

Bam Margera

Now here's the deal with Bam

He totally and completely gets it and is there for you

But he will also suggest that you guys go skate to let some anger out

If you can skate it's not even gonna be a suggestion

He'll literally grab you, pull you off of the couch and throw you in the car to go to the skatepark

If you don't know how to skate he says that he'll help you and while you're there he "teaches" you different tricks but in reality he's just having fun and he may have slightly forgotten that you can't skate

Once you guys are done you probably hit up a gas station, buy some snacks and sit on the sidewalk

In the middle of converstation he'll ask if you're okay and if there's anything else he can do

Bam's an amazing friend so he'll help in any way he can

If the person who dumped you was a guy and was a total asshole then he definetely calls Dunn and they "talk" to him

You guys spend the rest of the night listening to HIM and maybe even smoking

Ryan Dunn

Bro when I tell you that Ryan is the best friend anyone could have I mean it

I mean like first of all he would 100% give you an AMAZING hug and tell it's gonna be alright

Then he would probably take you to the store and buy you whatever snacks and/or drinks you wanted

You guys would spend the rest of the afternoon/evening/night/whenever talking and watching tv

He shares some of his stories on how he got dumped and tells you that he knows how you feel and wants to make you as happy as possible

If you want to laugh then he'll put on some show or tell you funny stories

If you want to cry then he will totally cry with you

If you're mad then he will first try to calm you down and if that doesn't work he'll find an abandoned building or something where you guys can break stuff

If the rest of the viva la bam/cky guys hear about what you guys are doing they will 100% join you (and if you don't want them to Ryan tells them to fuck off)

Ryan's the definition of the sweetest friend anyone could have

Chris Pontious

Lets get one thing straight

Chris is the funniest person on the planet

So when you tell him about you getting dumped, his goal is to make you laugh as much as possible

Whether that's while you're crying

Or when you guys are talking about other things

He tries to get your mind off of it and he does anything to do it

Even if he totally embarasses himself in the process

As long as you're laughing he's happy

He's also really good at talking so if you don't want him to make jokes 24/7 he'll 100% listen and talk to you about other things

I feel like he gives really but also kinda stupid advice

Idk how to explain it

Maybe its the fact that normally everything that comes out of this dudes mouth is goofy as fuck

Or maybe its just the fact that he hasn't fully stopped making jokes

Whatever it is the advice is still pretty good

And he is still fully devoted to making you happy

Also please laugh at his jokes

Even if they're kinda bad

It'll boost his ego so much lmao

[laiqualaurelote]

star emoji (i'm on pc) for all the men and women merely players?

thank you for this ask for fanfiction director's cut! any director's commentary for all the men and women merely players is going to be insufferably long, especially as it involves literal directors, but I'm going to focus on one of my favourite parts to write, the Hamlet chapter.

stop! Hamlet time

The first thing to know about me is that I am a massive Hamlet nerd. I've studied it academically and watched it multiple times onscreen and onstage, in multiple languages, including Chinese and Lithuanian (I do not speak Lithuanian). Hamlet is a pivotal play in the structure of this fic - it is the "turn" in the magic trick of the "pledge, turn and prestige".

There are seven past/potential Hamlets in this fic: Nate, Isaac, Colin, Dani, Sam, Jamie and Roy. Even though Nate is the one who ends up actually playing Hamlet, what I wanted to set out here is that every single one of them could have been Hamlet, a very different kind of Hamlet, and it's rather a question of when in their lives they could have played this role. Hamlet is one of those paradoxical roles where you need a ton of experience to do it well, yet by the time you gain that experience you might be considered too old (textual clues indicate Hamlet is in his 30s). There are exceptions, of course: Ben Whishaw played Hamlet at 23, Ian McKellen at 84. I imagine Roy played Hamlet before he was ready, when he did not fully understand the role; Sam, similarly, is too young here and Jamie too immature. This is why the role eventually goes to Nate, who intrinsically understands Hamlet best of anyone in the company because of his own existential self-hatred. The one thing he lacks - and that Roy and Jamie have in abundance - is the main character syndrome that Hamlet possesses. He gains this in later chapters, but his insecurity around it leads to disaster. Anyway, my point is that there is no such thing as a single perfect Hamlet because all the Hamlets are valid.

The title of this chapter is "a little more than kin, and less than kind", which is the first line Hamlet speaks in the play. He's using it as a veiled insult of his mother's abrupt marriage to his uncle so soon after his father's death. This chapter deals very heavily with kin - in the sense of family ties, especially parental ones - and kind, in the sense of kindness but also in the sense of being like one another, of the same kind. I think a lot about how Shakespeare is performed, and what kinds of people get to perform Shakespeare, and this chapter explores that.

We open with Nate's dream of playing Anita in West Side Story (a nod to show canon), mixed with his memory of what he perceives as his father's rejection of him. (This is one of the earliest scenes I wrote for this fic, before we got more of an insight into Nate's actual relationship with his father, which was a lot less antagonistic than many of us anticipated). The epigraph to this chapter is from Gertrude to Hamlet: "Do not for ever with thy vailed lids/ Seek for thy noble father in the dust". This is what Nate is doing in this fic, and Ted, and Trent, and Jamie - whether they intend to or not, they've all got their heads down, seeking their fathers in the dust.

Used to be I didn’t know fuck-all about Shakespeare. Where I come from, if you talked about shit like that, they’d rip the piss out of you. I’d have done it myself. I got into a lot of fights back then. Someone’s trying to vex me, I beat the shit out of them. Sometimes I just get so mad and I don’t know where to make it go. You know? Nah, you don’t. Not by the looks of you. I’d probably have beat the shit out of you back then, if I’m honest. 

This is Monologue No. 5, Isaac's (the monologues are numbered after the number each player wears in the show). The difference between a monologue and a soliloquy is that a monologue is a speech by a single character, but there may be others onstage; in a soliloquy that character is alone. ('To be or not to be' is strictly speaking not a soliloquy but a monologue, as there are other characters eavesdropping on Hamlet). The four monologues in this chapter all allude to Trent as the invisible, silent listener. In contrast, Jamie delivers Soliloquy No. 9 because he is truly alone.

Cry ‘Havoc’, and let slip the dogs of war. Well that’s fucking epic, Miss Jameela, I said. Well why don’t you take a look at the rest of it, she said. And when I spoke the words out loud it was like something I could pour my rage into. Nothing fancy about it. It were right on. Turned all that anger into something to lend your ears to.

Isaac's entry point to Shakespeare is Antony's speech in Julius Caesar. This was a parallel I had initially intended to give to Roy, who has a clear affinity for Shakespeare's soldier characters, but after Isaac's captain speech in Sunflowers, I realised it should go to him. Isaac, like Roy, has rage issues, which he learns to channel into his acting; like Roy, he comes from a working-class background (I imagine them both being from council estates in South London) and came to acting through community theatre, which is under threat in the UK today because of funding cuts (Christopher Eccleston wrote movingly about this after the closure of the Oldham Coliseum, which was where actors like Bernard Cribbins got their start).

I’m no orator, yeah? Just a plain blunt man that loves his friends.

This is nearly word-for-word what Antony says in his speech at Caesar's funeral, which ironically demonstrates that he is a skilled orator - he deliberately casts himself as "plain" and "blunt" against Brutus' sophistry and succeeds in alienating his opponent in the audience's eyes. This leadership quality of Antony's is reflective of Isaac's own captaincy style - he's a "plain blunt man that loves his friends", even if he can't bring himself to tell them in so many words, and that is how he keeps his team together.

Nate contemplates this. It’s not exactly that they’re short on skulls in the apocalypse. Probably be easier than making one out of papier-mâché, which he’s had to do for a lot of their less scavengeable props, and which is a bit trickier when you have to make your own glue. The problem, of course, is getting the flesh off. How long would you have to boil human bone to get it clean? Beard probably knows. Nate should check with him.

This is morbid - but also, I assure you, a completely accurate depiction of how single-minded props people can be.

Colin strikes a pose with his imaginary skull. “Alas poor Yorick! I knew his fellatio.”

This was an actual piece of graffiti I once saw etched above a fly floor.

I only figured it out when we did Twelfth Night in sixth form. It was an all boys’ school, so some of us had to do the girl roles. I got Viola, the lead. Thought that was tidy. Only at the end I had to kiss the boy playing Orsino. 

Colin's monologue is based on a real anecdote, but in reverse; I knew someone who played Orsino in a mixed school, so he had to make out repeatedly with the girl playing Viola and it did absolutely nothing for him and that was how he discovered he was gay.

It’s funny that we’re doing this now. You a journalist, and me telling you all this. I fantasised about it sometimes, you know, telling everyone. I had nightmares about it. Could’ve gone on not saying anything after the world ended, but then I figured, if I might die any moment, I want to die having lived as a whole person.

I did not think I could top Colin's coming-out scene in the show, so I chose to let it have already happened in this AU. (I then retroactively decided it took place during the one and only time the Richmond Players performed Chekhov.) In contrast, it's implied that Trent still hadn't come out prior to the apocalypse, and that he is inspired to do so to Colin here.

“If he’d just made up his mind earlier it could all have been over by Act Two,” Roy is saying. “Macbeth would’ve done it. Othello would’ve done it. Fuck, even Romeo would’ve knocked Claudius off before making a puppet show about it.” “But that’s why they’re tragedies, you see,” Trent argues. “They’re all in the wrong story. Hamlet wouldn’t have killed Desdemona, or assumed Juliet was dead based on hearsay.”

I am quite fond of "the tropes are hungry and the hero is in the wrong goddamn story" discourse. There's no point complaining that Hamlet the play is too long and the hero needs to make up his mind. He can't, because he's Hamlet! that's the tragedy.

When I was a boy, there was this travelling theatre company that went around the vecindades, and they performed Shakespeare in the courtyards. We sat on our doorsteps and watched them. In the last scene they threw a big party, and they knocked on all the neighbours’ doors and brought them out to dance. I thought, if this is what theatre is like, then theatre is life!

The play in Dani's monologue is based on the vecindades staging of Othello by Arturo Ramírez and Martín López Cruz (an anachronistic reference, since it took place in Mexico City in 1988, meaning that Dani would not actually have been alive to see it). I'm fascinated by this particular site-specific staging because it was so calibrated for the vecindades, literally bringing the action to their doorstep - it was a staging that drew on the sense of community in these multi-family dwellings but also implicated said community in the tragedy, because they all ended up witnesses to Desdemona's murder. (A headcanon for this AU is that Dani played Desdemona opposite Sharon in the Richmond Players's gender-bent version of Othello).

On the one hand, Dani is the least likely candidate among the seven, because he is fundamentally too cheerful to play Hamlet. On the other hand, I think he would have turned the entire thing into a telenovela, which I for one would have loved to see.

“If your director, your lead actor and your stage manager are in a burning house right before your show is about to start, who do you save first?” Trent hazards: “The lead actor?” “Exactamundo, Aureliano Segundo! By the time the show’s about to go on, you don’t need the director any more, and your stage manager can take care of themself, or they wouldn’t be your stage manager.”

Again, a joke I've heard among production managers (who are always joking about disasters because a big part of their job is crisis prevention) but one that also reveals how what Ted views as a show of confidence might be interpreted by Nate as hurtful neglect. Also, a One Hundred Years of Solitude reference! No reason, I just always have Aureliano Segundo on the mind.

Did you know that the first recorded performance of Hamlet took place in Africa? English sailors performed it off the coast of Sierra Leone. Some people don’t believe this.

The earliest recorded performance of Hamlet was allegedly in 1607 on board an East India Company ship, The Dragon, lying off the coast of Sierra Leone, though the authenticity of the record has been called into question by some scholars. It would, however, have been performed at the Globe earlier in the 1600s. It's just interesting to think of the already-global nature of the play, even in its infancy, and of Shakespeare as a cultural accessory to colonialism.

I thought you have to sound British when you do Shakespeare, so I tried to do this RP accent, like I heard on BBC. And it was so bad. My father was helping me film the tape and he had this look on his face. I said “Daddy, I got to do it like this. They got to know I can play their roles the way they want.” And he said, “No, Samuel. You got to let them know that the way they want is your way.” So I did the monologue in my own accent, and we sent in that tape. And I got in.

Accent work in theatre is a sensitive subject that is quite close to my heart (though I live in the UK, I'm not British and don't have an English accent, which is something I'm always conscious of). Also: what does a decolonial approach to Shakespeare look like? Is it even possible? Is that what Sam's doing here? Questions, questions.

The fandom discourse around accents was also at the forefront of my mind when I was working on this chapter, because of an ask I had received about writing Jamie's POV - the asker was (rightly) concerned about how I would be depicting the Mancunian accent, as many in fandom were phoneticising it, which is considered offensive. This chapter contains five distinct character voices and for each one I listened to/read multiple sources to find subtle ways to depict the unique elements of that voice accurately and respectfully.

People always assume I want to play Othello. And I mean it is a great role, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want to do Othello. I don’t want to do Aaron. I want the roles that everyone is up for. I want to do Hamlet. I want to do Romeo. I want to do Lear.

This is, IRL, what Toheeb Jimoh is doing! He's played Romeo, he's playing Hal in Henry IV, I can't wait to see what he takes on next.

This is also a complete coincidence (I conceptualised this chapter before S3E7 aired) but Nonso Anozie, who plays Sam's father Ola, holds the Guinness World Record for the youngest actor to play King Lear professionally, aged 23 in a 2002 RSC production. That's why I made Lear the favourite play of Ola in this AU, and had Sam make the (otherwise quite off-beat) choice of Cordelia's monologue for his RADA audition tape.

You know, when Orlando first comes onstage, he is talking about his father, who is dead. I don’t know if you could tell, the first night when you saw me in the role, but I almost could not do it. I almost could not speak those lines, because I do not know if they are true.

While it is left open-ended in the fic if Sam's parents are still alive, I like to think that they are. I like to think that he makes it back to Nigeria eventually - perhaps even soon after his successful run as Hamlet in the fic's epilogue, when international ship travel is revealed to be back on the cards - and that he sees them again.

“Am I a coward?” says Nate softly. [...] “Who calls me villain?” It is as if Nate is outside himself, his mouth speaking words unbidden, his nerveless fingers letting the book fall. “Breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by the nose? Gives me the lie i' the throat, as deep as to the lungs – who does me this?”

When I was watching Nate's villain arc in S2, these lines from Hamlet blazed across my mind, and from that moment on I always subconsciously associated Nate with Hamlet, but a Hamlet who loathes himself to a nigh paralysing degree. Nate may fancy himself a villain of Richard III's ilk, but he simply does not have the evil chops. He's just insecure, indecisive, prone to seeing insult when there is none.

He’s watching himself now. He’s standing across from himself as he delivers the lines seared into his brain, fascinated and horrified. He watches his own throat work, sees the spit fly, feels it strike beneath his eye and roll down his cheek like a tear.

Mirrors are significant in Hamlet - it is, after all, the play that gave rise to the idea of art holding a mirror up to nature - and I wanted to find a parallel for Nate's ritual of spitting at his reflection, which was hard, because mirrors are not abundant in a post-apocalyptic AU. I found the answer in a stage direction from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, in which Hamlet spits at the audience, then wipes his face as if his spit has been blown back at him by the wind.

Nate's flashback to what really happened with his parents fills in the blanks for the reader - his father pushing him away wasn't rejection, but his last act of love for Nate. And Nate knows rationally that there was nothing he could have done to save them, but he will always be haunted by having been the one to walk away.

A terrible emotion swamps Nate's chest. A little more than hope, and less than fear. “The play’s the thing,” he says.

"A little more than hope, and less than fear" is a callback to the chapter title "a little more than kin, and less than kind".

The full line that Hamlet says is "The play's the thing/ Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king." He's conceived a play-within-a-play to prove Claudius' guilt and provide him with the impetus to actualise this revenge business.

Throughout this chapter, the question of whether a play is "real" or "not real" comes up repeatedly - Colin: "I was scared of what it meant if it wasn’t acting. If it was real"; Dani: "And they say, but that is not true. Theatre is only pretend"; Sam: "Maybe one day I will see him again. And all this will only have been lines in a play". And of course a play isn't real, a play is only pretend. Ted Lasso isn't real. This fic isn't real. But that's not to say they're not holding up a mirror to our reality, the reflections in which have the power to affect us and shape us and change us in very real ways. That's the thing about plays. The play's the thing.

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

Trick or treat! 👻

(for this ask game)

Hey there, I absolutely adore the scene in ch 3 of your fic Understanding where Garak and Julian have sex in the changing room of Garak's shop, so I'm gonna write a thing that is very based on that, but with them doing it in Julian's workplace this time haha! Everyone reading this should be sure to also go read Understanding, not bc you need to in order for this to make sense, but simply because it is VERY FUCKING GOOD. And then also you can see for yourself the extent to which I just entirely ripped off maeselc's scene here hahaha.

(Untitled Garashir ficlet. Rated M or maybe E. Content warnings: semi-public sex. Fic continues below the readmore.)

"Doctor Bashir?" Nurse Jabara said from the other side of the curtain that separated the biobed from the rest of the infirmary. "I have some questions about these patients' charts."

Garak bit down on his own hand to muffle himself.

They hadn't expected anyone else to still be here this late. But they hadn't particularly bothered to check either, before Garak had pulled his own clothes off and laid down on the biobed.

"Of course. I'll be done with this examination in just a moment," Julian responded calmly.

"Okay. I'll be in my office," she said, then walked away.

Julian hadn't paused his examination as they talked, and it was thorough. Garak's legs were spread and his thighs were trembling as long elegant fingers probed deep into his most sensitive places while he thrust himself up into the warm grip of Julian's other hand. Almost getting caught had only heightened the thrill running up his spine, and after few more pumps, Garak's back arched as he came all over himself.

Garak let his hand fall from his mouth when he was no longer in danger of crying out. When Julian brought his own fingers to Garak's mouth, he eagerly sucked them clean.

Wasting no more time, Julian pulled out an examination gown from where they were stored below the biobed and used it to start mopping up the rest of Garak's rains.

"Well, everything seems perfectly normal, but don't leave just yet, I want to follow up with you in a few minutes," Julian said cheerily to Garak--though clearly only for the benefit of any eavesdroppers--as he stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. "You can change back into your clothes though, and put the disposable gown in the reclamator when you're done with it."

Julian rolled his sleeves back down and, with a final wink to Garak, slipped out from the curtain to help Jabara with her paperwork.

Without the heat of exertion, Garak was cooling off. He used a fresh part of the garment to dry himself more thoroughly, then stood and wiped up the wet spot from the biobed. He finished dressing just as Julian returned.

Julian kissed him as soon as the curtains were closed on them again.

"She's gone now. It's just us."

"Good. I certainly wouldn't want you to get in any trouble," he said, with a tone of voice that suggested he very much wanted to get him into all kinds of trouble.

A slightly devious smile curled his lips. "Mmm. Well, there's always the possibility that there will be some late night medical emergency that interrupts us again."

Garak matched his wicked grin. "So, what sort of follow-up appointment did you have in mind for me, Doctor?"

[dribs-and-drabbles]

15 people, 15 questions

Thanks for tagging me @colourme-feral, @wen-kexing-apologist and @thegalwhorants! I wrote this at night on Christmas Eve but then tumblr ate the post when I moved it from my drafts to my queue, so I had to write the whole thing again...

1. Are you named after anyone?

No. My parents had a difficult time deciding on a name and just eventually landed on the one they gave me.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Well that depends on what kind of crying... I teared up last Wednesday when my furniture and belongings arrived from being in storage for 17 months. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my breath hitched a few times when I watched ep 6 Last Twilight (damn you Aof!) nearly two weeks ago. But the last time I ugly sobbed was whilst watching a musical in June, but I was feeling especially emotional about my temporary living situation at the time.

3. Do you have kids?

No.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I don't play any now (but I do go to the gym) but when I was a kid I did gymnastics and then dance (although that's not a sport). I played different sports in school but only because I had to and they weren't any I really enjoyed.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sarcasm? Who, me?! Nooooooo never.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Probably their posture or body language.

7. What's your eye colour?

To be honest I'm not sure. There's grey and bits of blue and green and even brown but I wouldn't be able to call it a colour. I used to say hazel but then I realised hazel was more brown than my eyes are so I don't really know.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Oh happy endings for sure. I mean, I'm on (this) tumblr because of the qls I watch so it should be obvious.

9. Any talents?

I can hold a handstand for 30 secs (I've also managed 1 min in the past but that was a while ago now) but that feels more like a party trick than a talent. I guess I could say dancing. Oh, maybe guessing the time usually quite accurately.

10. Where were you born?

In the UK, specifically England.

11. What are your hobbies?

Apart from going to the gym, handstanding and watching ql series? I'm currently obsessed with the clothes from the shows 😅...but I also like to go for walks, sometimes I play boardgames, and I like to read (I've been mainly reading fan fic recently though). I also think about lego a lot (and now I have my own place I might get some sets - bonsai tree my beloved) and I used to write but it's been a few years since I last wrote anything.

12. Do you have any pets?

No. I've had cats in the past and I'd like another cat at some point but not for a while.

13. How tall are you?

I'm not 🤭

14. What was your favourite subject in school?

I can't remember now but probably geography...but more geology than countries...or creative writing. There was a point where I enjoyed maths...but didn't study it beyond 16.

15. What is your dream job?

I'd actually like to be able to not work, or to only work part time. I've been lucky to have actually had my dream job and I'm very grateful for the opportunity/experience.

So that's it! I guess I should tag 15 people since that's the title of this game, so here goes: @grapejuicegay @telomeke (I know you've been tagged a few times) @respectthepetty (I know you've done it already but I wanted to tag you anyway) @celestial-sapphicss @dimplesandfierceeyes @chickenstrangers @wen-kexing-apologist (I know you've already done it as well but leaving this tag here anyway) @waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @slayerkitty @ranchthoughts @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @btwinlines @starryalpacasstuff No pressure obviously. (bonus tag for @absolutebl because I like it when you answer these kinds of things using only photos /gifs)

[cassynite]

Evaethi Gets a Horse? 👀

Thanks so much for the ask Seren!

This one was originally a prompt fill for a writing meme ask I got (checks calendar) way too long ago, but I expanded the concept a bit. It's a little looser but one I'm focusing on because it is from child!Evaethi's pov and I think it's important for me to get done to nail her character and the dynamic she has with her dad and Sparrow. I'm considering it required writing before I can actually work on the family reunion fic lol

Basically what it says on the tin--it's how Evaethi gets Hazelnut, her horse--but on a broader level it's Evaethi dealing with the fact that she's a failgirl overtly and also perpetuating behaviors against Sparrow covertly. Below's are two rough snippets that aren't long enough on their own yet:

Eva wears the coral dress with blue frills, the hem clipped on the inside--Evaethi had grown taller than Eva within the past few months, but Father won't buy more than one set of dresses for the two of them since there's only one Lady Evaethi. Evaethi tried to make herself shorter for a few days after Father's hours-long lecture about finances once he realized the two were no longer the same height, but walking with bent legs made her knees hurt. So instead, the servants found some very pretty shoes from the upper west wing where Mama used to live, kitten heels that Eva stuffed with rags to make fit until her feet grew into them. The few inches it gave, along with the folding hem trick, did its job, and Eva could wear the dresses without issue, even if she always cringed a tiny bit when she walked down the halls with her heels clacking against the tile. Evaethi understood; nothing had happened yet, but one day Father was gonna hear that noise and get mad. Hopefully Evaethi wasn't nearby when that happened.

--

"I just don't want to give him such a sad name. Hazelnut feels right!" "Then Hazelnut is his name," Sparrow says. "'Arcaneus' is just a word on a sign at his door. It doesn't matter if other people think that's his name, or call him that. You're the one who loves him. If you call him Hazelnut, he'll know that's his real name, no matter what anyone else says." Evaethi turns to her, eyes shining. "You really think so, Eva?" "I do." Evaethi turns back to her new roan, rubbing his nose with newfound enthusiasm. "Hazelnut. Your name is Hazelnut. Don't you forget it, no matter what Father says. Eva, do you want to help me brush him?"

[solomons-finest-rum]

Saga, congratulations once again on 1K!! 🎉 I know how much you wanted to write something Halloween inspired so I thought perhaps a modern AU where Alfie forgets what the date is. He's home watching tv while everyone is out trick-or-treating. When there's a knock at the door, he's surprised to see his neighbor, a single mum, and her two adorable children in costume. Now he must play along and find them a treat. Bc he's Alfie and has no idea about kids, I imagine he'd give them an odd assortment of items he collected in haste. 🤣 But their mum would find it sort of charming and maybe she invites him and Cyril to walk with them. Just something humorous and fluffy for a quick blurb. I hope it inspires you!

"Trick or Treat" — (Alfie Solomons x OFC)

SUMMARY — Modern!AU. One Halloween evening, three witches come to Alfie's porch for trick-or-treating. Chaos ensues.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Goodness, how long I made you wait for this one, I'm so sorry my friend! 🙈💕I hope the moodboard I made to accompany this fic and the extended length makes up for it! 💗💗💗💗I really did my best with this I think, or at least beat my temporary writer's block right on the head with it🙈💗💗💗💗

WORD COUNT — 3,599

Masterlist

For one Alfie Solomons, the morning of Halloween began with a haunting. 

The doorbell rang at an ungodly early hour and he nearly fell off the bed when he heard it. Knowing full-well he wasn’t expecting anyone, Alfie reasoned quickly that the only possibility could either be a stranger, a neighbour, or the police. Not really sure which one of these was worse, he stomped towards the front door grumpier than ever. 

“Yeah, yeah, hold yer fuckin’ horses, treacle, I ain’t decent!” he grumbled when the doorbell sounded again.

Alfie opened the door and immediately closed it as soon as his eyes met with Inspector Campbell’s. 

“Good morning, Mr. Solomons!” Chester Campbell exclaimed, entirely all too happily for Alfie’s liking, and he seemed completely undeterred by the treatment. 

Which could only mean he had some bad news.

“Nope! Nah! Not doin’ that with ya today, right, so you can go fuck off, mate!” Alfie promptly turned around to locate the closest trousers and check the corridor for anything incriminating while at it. 

“Mr. Solomons, we need to talk!” Campbell knocked on the door once more and Alfie grunted when he finally managed to get himself half-way into a half-clean pair of jeans.

“Yeah, we’ve done too much of that lately for my likin’, right, so you can get a warrant!” he shouted right back.

“Is that really necessary?”

“Afraid so, yeah!”

“Mr. Solomons, you’re stalling!”

He absolutely was, yes. 

The thing was, Alfie wasn’t exactly surprised that Campbell came to see him—tracked him down, more or less. Alfie’s parole meeting was coming up and the prospect of his earlier charges getting dismissed obviously must have enraged the Inspector enough to come down all the way to Margate.

But then, just as the Inspector raised his hand to knock again, Alfie opened the door once more and squeezed himself right in front of the other man, closing the front door behind him and thus creating the environment he hoped would be increasingly uncomfortable for the cop—at least uncomfortable enough to get him down from his high horse and off the porch.

“Right, there we are then, treacle, nice an’ cosy, just as we like, right? What can I do for ya?” Alfie sneered.

“Mr. Solomons, is that really necessary?” Campbell asked, in a tone that let Alfie know just how exasperated he was with the nonsense.

“Aye, forgot to clean the place, right, ‘s a bloody pigsty it is,” Alfie’s sneer only grew. “If you’d give me a head’s up there—”

“Very well,” Campbell grumbled and looked around to see if any passers-by would witness what he was about to do next. 

Unfortunately for Alfie, his house, while comfortably close to the sea, was also the most remotely placed. 

Which was why the Inspector could lean in and whisper maliciously:

“Now, I know what you’ve been up to, Mr. Solomons, and I also know that you know how close I am to implicating the Shelbys along with it. So you can consider your parole hearing… How should I put it? Utterly redundant.”

After that delightful little message, Campbell straightened his back and exclaimed, unnecessarily loudly:

“Good day, Mr. Solomons!”

So you could say all of that left Alfie a little enraged. Distracted, even. Truth be told, he completely lost track of time, which angered him even more—that he let Campbell get to him like that.

Nonetheless, Alfie’s foul mood resulted in him frantically going between calling his lawyer, switching from threatening and pleading, and then smoking the cigarettes he swore he wouldn’t touch again.

Somehow, the entire afternoon passed him by and when Alfie finally calmed down enough to sit down and watch a movie, the doorbell rang again.

“Alright, that’s it!” he roared, certain that this time Campbell had somehow managed to make up a reason and come back to arrest him. 

Drug charges, you see, were something of a slippery thing; at least when it came to Alfie Solomons. It was a mutual thorn in his and Campbell’s respective sides. Difficult to prove his involvement in, at least that’s what Alfie’s lawyer claimed on the last trial.

Criminal activity, on the other hand… Well, that one had been well-proven and Alfie went down for it for four long years. Would have gotten more, had it not been for Tommy Shelby’s fancy lawyer and a favour that Alfie was still trying to forget ever happened.

But now he had a pretty good chance of these drug charges going away forever—a new thorn in the Inspector’s side, to be sure. Which was why you could say Alfie was a little on edge even without the taunting and the surprise visits.

“I’ll have ya fuckin’ arrested, ya limpin’ old cunt!” were the exact words Alfie shouted as soon as he opened the door, the recipients of his threats being two little girls in witch costumes and their chaperone—a pretty brunette, also in a matching witch costume.

Which was when Alfie’s tired brain connected the dots. Children. Trick-or-treating. Halloween. 

“Yeah, fuck, I’m… I’m so sorry, listen,” he muttered, rubbing his hand across his face and trying to at least make up a good reason for the outburst. 

He had none.

“No!” the woman exclaimed, though she wasn’t angry; embarrassed, maybe. But surprisingly not angry. “We’re… sorry. We’re gonna go. Come on, girls.” She put her arms around the girls protectively, though Alfie doubted the little shits needed any. 

They looked up at him with two identical grins, both no doubt thoroughly amused at his swearing.

“Wait, no, wait… Fuck’s sake, that’s… I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else, yeah, I’ve been through some rough patch lately, you could say, that’s…” As he rambled, Alfie retreated inside the house only to emerge with a random assembly of things that in no way could ever be considered suitable for Halloween treats.

Therefore, in both girls' baskets landed, in that order, two decorative Granny Smith apples made of recycled glass, a pack of watch batteries, Marlboro lights (slightly opened), and a small bag of dog treats. 

All three uninvited guests were looking at him now like one would at an utter lunatic, though the youngest of the three was simultaneously completely taken by the strangeness of the man before her.

“Thank you… so much,” the woman stuttered then, unable to say anything else. “Girls, please thank the nice man,” she added unconvincingly.

Both girls exclaimed excited “thank you’s”, obviously having been treated enough for one evening—both by the ensemble of creative swear words and the cigarettes they would no doubt trade for something awesome at school.

“Yeah, listen, I am sorry,” Alfie said once more, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious. “No local kids come ‘ere for Halloween, alright, and there’s a good reason for it, I suppose…”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” one of the girls, the smaller, immediately wanted to know.

The older was still eyeing the dog treats, but as she saw no dog, she tried to look into the weird man’s house. She expected it to be even weirder on the inside.

“Lydia, that’s enough,” the woman chastised the curious one, rubbing her own cheek in a nervous tick and smearing the dark painted freckles. “Thank you—”

“Aye, ‘cause it’s haunted, innit?” Alfie chose to entertain the question, and entirely seriously, too. 

As soon as he said it, the younger girl gasped and grabbed the older one by the hand.

“Yeah, right,” the older one said, suddenly defiant enough to disobey her… mother? Was it their mother? Alfie wondered… 

In any case, the older girl entirely ignored the silent plea the woman had given her and instead, she stepped a little closer towards Alfie. 

“Who’s the ghost?” the older girl asked, in that sort of demanding tone only children on the verge of becoming teenagers could muster.

“I am,” Alfie murmured in a raspy voice, again completely serious. 

The girl took a step back and the younger one shrieked. The unexpected noise managed to finally wake up Alfie’s otherwise retired Bullmastiff, and as the giant hound tilted his massive head back and howled for no reason at all, all three unexpected visitors shrieked together.

All of them at once fled Alfie’s porch, their final goodbye being the man’s raspy laughter that followed them all the way down to the beach.

The devil came to Margate. Alfie was pretty much convinced that was how everyone else referred to his recent arrival to the coast. Actually, to be clear, the devil never really left. He just rented out his property, in which he now so shamelessly hid from the rest of the world.

No, not his house, that one was always cluttered and too personal for renting. You see, Alfie had many properties scattered around London and the coast—which was why he supposed the tax people had so much trouble tracking down his actual income.

One of those properties was a cosy shop just on the corner behind the main street. Alfie rented it to a tiny old lady who turned it into a used bookstore—nothing less in demand in Margate, to be sure.

Profits were minimal, but Alfie was prepared to forgive the rent from time to time for two reasons—he loved hanging around the place, and also his tennant was positively vicious. 

Alfie was positively enamoured with the evil old thing. He often remarked they would have been married in another life (at which he either received a scowl or a slap across the head).

(She really reminded him of his grandmother sometimes.)

Mrs. O’Brien was Irish in the strictest sense of the word. She despised the English and everything about them, as she often remarked to Alfie. She often let him know, too, that his only redeeming quality was him being Jewish, at which he only laughed because he really didn’t know what to say to that. 

(The strong association with his evil bat of a grandmother continued.)

To be perfectly honest, he often said to her to go the fuck back upstairs if she so hated Margate, but then she always dropped the subject (or a book or a cup or whatever else she might have been holding while losing the argument). Sometimes Alfie liked to think she was a wanted woman in Ireland, which really would explain so much about her.

Mrs. O’Brien, he strongly suspected, was either widowed by choice or never married at all. The choice in the matter could have clearly been murder, as one time while going through the mess at the backroom and searching for the invoices past due, Alfie found a gun in one of the drawers. It was an old one, a Beretta Laramie as he later learned through Google. The name, while rather romantic, made Alfie think his unusual friendship with the woman might not have been as odd as he used to think. 

Safe to say, Mrs. O’Brien was no sitting duck. The next time Alfie looked through the drawer, the gun had been removed.

That particularly rainy October afternoon, Alfie came to the bookstore with a clear goal to bother Mrs. O’Brien. He told himself it was to collect rent, but truth be told, he needed a distraction. After that lousy Halloween evening, his thoughts were still riddled with annoyance at strange children and nosy inspectors. 

“Aight, luv, how ya doin’ you beautiful thing?!” Alfie hollered as soon as he came through the door, knowing full-well that the cure for his annoyance was usually to annoy someone back.

As expected, Mrs. O’Brien scowled at him from behind the counter, where she sat on the high chair and read Chaucer. Intimidating as she was through her choice of words, the old witch was only five feet tall. 

“What do ya want?” she barked, begrudgingly accepting Alfie leaning in and kissing her cheek. 

“Got somethin’ for my favourite gal, don’t I?” he replied and produced a small box from the bakery across the street. 

He would have been a fool to have come empty-handed.

Mrs. O’Brien put down her book and pretended to still hate him, but as she inspected the contents of the box, her eyes shined.

“Well then,” she agreed begrudgingly at her own landlord’s presence in his own establishment before she bit down on the French lemon tartlet. 

Continuing not being a fool, Alfie got her the one with caramelised sugar on top.

With the dragon subdued for a good minute, Alfie went around the shop and got lost in the old books. With his tennant’s general unfriendliness and the particularly dark ambience, the bookstore was pretty much always quiet. That’s what Alfie was counting on, but like always, life decided to serve him with a big, fat disappointment.

The bell above the door rang and both Alfie and Mrs. O’Brien looked towards it with equal measures of surprise. In from the rain came two girls, both wearing identical yellow macs that dripped water everywhere they stepped.

“Oi!” Mrs. O’Brien put down the cake and wiped her mouth, all in one swift motion to race to the door and stop the children from doing any further damage to the layer of dust in the bookstore; so carefully accumulated over the years.

“Where ya both t’ink yer headin’?!” she shouted. “Now! Look at dat! That’s water everywhere!

Alfie still stood by the tallest bookcase and held a book opened before him, pretending to read and not spy on the situation.

“Excuse us,” the taller of the girls said and took off her hood. “Our aunt is just across the street. She told us to wait inside if we could.”

“Yes,” the smaller one interjected. “In case there are any perverts out.”

“That’s not what she said!” the older chastised her sister in a hushed voice.

“Oh, look!” The smaller one ignored her completely and pointed to Alfie, who immediately closed the book and tried to dive into the dark passageway in between the bookshelves.

Another conversation with the little shits was the last thing he wanted.

“He’s here!” the girl announced for the world to see. “I told you he’s not a ghost.”

“No, I told you that,” the older one sighed. 

To Alfie’s dismay, Mrs. O’Brien said nothing to that, for as much as she was an unfriendly old thing, she also never passed on the opportunity to be a nuisance to him.

“Maggie, can we stay? I’m cold,” the younger girl complained.

“Oh, fine!” Mrs. O’Brien then exclaimed, as if the decision was hers to make anyway. “Just don’t you two touch anythin’! These books are very old, ya know.”

“How old?” the younger one wanted to know.

“Very. Now, ya can hang the coats ‘ere, just don’t make a mess of it.”

Alfie heard the girls do as they were asked and he observed from behind the bookshelves as they walked around, both equally curious about the strange place they found themselves in. And strange it was indeed, starting from the old ceiling lamps that gave very little light altogether, finishing on the stuffed vulture placed on the bookshelf right behind the cash register counter.

The vulture, Alfie often thought, must have been a relative of his tennant’s, as both in their nature brightened up only at the perspective of a meal.

When he finally emerged from behind the shelves, both girls were still looking around with eyes wide open. Nothing in the shop, however, seemed more fascinating than the strange man they met last night.

“We’ve decided to stay,” the younger girl informed him.

“Hm,” Alfie hummed and scratched his beard. “Right, I can see that.”

“You’re not a pervert, are you?” she asked.

“Afraid not, no,” he smirked.

“Lydia!” The older girl smacked her on the shoulder.

“Ow!” Lydia, undeterred, smacked her sister right back. “What?!”

“Stop saying ‘pervert’ to people!”

Alfie cleared his throat then and both girls looked at him, now a little less sure of themselves. Mrs. O’Brien ignored them all and continued to munch on her tartlet.

“So,” Alfie said then to break up their quarrel, “Maggie,” he pointed to the older one who nodded, “and Lydia.” The smaller one nodded as well. “Right, well, I’m Alfie. This here is my shop. You two can stay as long as you like, ‘cause the way I figure I probably owe ya for last night.”

The girls looked at him with suspicion and Alfie returned the sentiment, for personally he had no idea how to manage small children.

“Right, you want some coffee?” he asked Maggie.

“I’m twelve,” she huffed.

“Sure, yeah,” Alfie hummed, then turned to Lydia with raised eyebrows. She nodded eagerly at the offer, obviously excited to be included in something adult.

“Jesus Christ,” Maggie sighed, “she’s seven! You can’t give her coffee.”

“Yeah, why not?”

“‘Cause she won’t grow!”

Alfie squinted at her and finally shrugged, accepting that as fact.

“Suit yourselves.”

But before he could go to the back to put the kettle on, the bell above the door sounded again. In came the woman from last night and Alfie froze a little, suddenly not so sure what to do with himself.

“Good lord, we haven’t ‘ad a crowd like that since the whale!” Mrs. O’Brien exclaimed and rushed to help the woman with her grocery bag—not because she especially cared, but because her red mac spread rainwater everywhere much like the girls’ had before.

“What whale?” Lydia immediately wanted to know.

“Oh,” her aunt noticed Alfie then and he caught her attention immediately. “It’s you.”

Alfie cleared his throat, unable to settle on the response.

“What whale!” Lydia exclaimed and Mrs. O’Brien shot her a disapproving look.

“Well, all right little missy! Calm down,” she said. “In 1973, a whale washed ashore. It was quite the event, I’ll have ya know.”

“You weren’t even here in 1973,” Alfie scoffed.

“Aye, an’ ya weren’t even a twinkle in yer father’s eye, so what? I know things!” Mrs. O’Brien waved her hand dismissively and the girls giggled.

“Well, I…” the woman looked around, appropriately confused by this all. “I’m so sorry if we have disturbed you—”

“It’s his bookstore,” Maggie informed her sharply and pointed at Alfie. “He said we could wait out the rain.”

“Aye, then ye’d be waitin’ all night, it’s always like this in October,” Mrs. O’Brien complained and earned herself a sharp look from Alfie, one which she thoroughly ignored.

“I was just about to make coffee,” Alfie pointed to the back room. 

“No, we don’t want to impose,” the woman replied, but when she turned around, the girls were already gone—hiding behind the tall bookshelves and giggling about something. 

“Seems you ain’t got a choice,” Alfie smirked.

“If they’re bothering you…”

“Naah, that’s no bother. Now come on, I was a proper arse last night, right, the least I owe ya is a cup of coffee.”

The woman nodded and hung her coat, visibly relieved she didn’t have to go out into the cold October rainstorm just yet.

Since that was settled, Alfie went to make the coffees.

“Sooner or later ya gonna have to tell me what the hell happened last night, eh?” Mrs. O’Brien muttered to Alfie as he put the kettle on.

“Hmm.”

“Dontcha ‘hmm’ at me lad, I’m old enough to be yer grandmother!”

“Naah, don’t say that now, my grandmother was a lovely woman.”

Mrs. O’Brien scoffed and busied herself with finding some clean cups.

“Nothin’ happened, right,” Alfie grumbled, “just a misunderstanding.”

“Aye, that misunderstanding seems to like the looks of ya.”

Alfie looked behind his shoulder and his eyes met the aunt’s. It seemed like she was watching him from afar and now she turned around abruptly, cheeks slightly pink with embarrassment.

“Shut up.” Alfie turned around too and Mrs. O’Brien cackled like an old bog witch.

Alfie finally approached the aunt with two cups in his hands, leaving his insufferable tennant to figure out her own drink. But the suggestion she made stayed at the back of his head, now clouding his judgement entirely. 

Five seconds ago he couldn’t care less about the woman and now all he could notice was how her hair curled from the rain and how good she looked browsing these musty old books, mouthing the titles from their spines.

“Oh! Thank you,” she smiled at him brightly when Alfie handed her the cup.

“Yeah, I didn’t know how ya like it…”

“Black.”

“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause we don’t have milk anyway.”

She laughed and, despite his better judgement, Alfie felt a little proud.

“If ya like bad coffee an’ half-decent books, you should come more often!” Mrs. O’Brien then shouted from behind the cash register, at which Alfie turned around to glare at her.

The girls’ aunt laughed again, still a little nervous. Alfie turned to her, suddenly emboldened by the rain and by the girls happily running around the shop, making the place more alive than it had been for years.

“Yeah, but I think so too,” he said, voice lower so that Mrs. O’Brien couldn’t overhear—not for the lack of trying on her part, to be sure.

“What?” the aunt asked, a little incredulous.

“You should come by more often,” he explained. 

Either there was something in that coffee or he was going crazy, but he could swear her eyes sparkled.

“Is that so?” she asked, now obviously teasing him a little. 

“Yeah.”

“You don’t mind the noise?”

“Nah.”

“We could come by tomorrow, I suppose,” she mused. 

“Come,” he assured her. “As often as you’d like.”

[bougiebutchbitch]

Your naruto fanfic on ao3, the road trip one does sakura so much justice and I want to thank you for it, so many people in this fandom is toxic and hate her for no reason, so thank you for doing some if not alot of justice for Sakura!

I've been reading it none stop. Its just so well written and so well done! I came across you only a couple days ago and I do say your art is out of thie world!

Watching them freak out over period blood is funny but also a little bit relatable 😅. I've been seeing you have said you are working on a seocnd type of part to it. Please take your time on it and try not to push your self!

Also. Whats something in naruto you want to draw but wont cause its a small thing that not many known of (it can be anything, even a ship)

And with the one of kakashi being turned into a 15 year old again. Did you ever make anyone some where or was it just a one time thing?

i am holding this ask very close to my chest. Thank you so much!

Half of the reason I wrote that fic because it was so difficult for me to find Sakura-fic that didn't either completely girlbossify her or demonise her lol. It's great fun to write her as a flawed but average little kid, dealing with some seriously messed up situations!

Thank you for the well-wishes <3 I have that sweet ADHD brain trick of being able to start a million projects, but finishing them is like pulling teeth! I have a second part of the Kakashi-gets-turned-into-a-little-kid comic ALMOST ready - but it needs colouring and I'm so lazy lollllll. I might not continue it past that - it's a lot of effort!

But I would definitely like to do one little sequel to the period comic... Eh, we'll see! My life's about to get super-busy again, so I can't make any promises xxx

As for your question... hmmm! I don't think I've ever wanted to draw something for Naruto and then not drawn it? I often want to illustrate other people's fanfic when I'm reading it, but then get distracted as soon as I finish reading it, haha. I have several illustrations that I've been prodding at for a certain ObiKaka fic that I love very much, but I don't want to like. Get the author's hopes up by mentioning them because I honestly don't know if I'll ever finish as my brain is made of wet cement

Other than that though, I tend to just draw whatever the heckie I want and bung it up on my blog!

[dandelion-wings]

1, 12, and 15?

Thank you for the ask! <3

1. what's the fic youre most proud of?

There's a handful of contenders, but honestly, overall, probably An Open Hand. I managed to accomplish multiple things with it that I wanted to do and hadn't pulled off before, and it's the first fic of that length I've seen to completion (the longest I'd written and edited to posting-level satisfaction before that was 45k). Also it's an "everything and the kitchen sink" of elements and tropes I just plain like.

12. What’s your perfect environment to create/write?

One that doesn't have a lot of other inputs! I struggle with distractions a lot, and fare best when I have a large chunk of time ahead of me (so I don't have to fear getting really into my work and then being pulled abruptly out) and minimal distractions. At home I try to create that by working on my laptop instead of my big computer (the new laptop is not as helpful as the old one in this respect because it can actually have more than one program and/or two tabs open at a time, but the trade-off is it doesn't take 15-20 minutes to open a program or new tab), down in the sunroom where the only potential physical distraction is the cat. I also tend to write quite a lot when traveling because travel naturally creates those conditions for me--plane rides, spurts of not-driving on road trips, boring hotel rooms, etc.

A mug of tea helps a lot regardless of location and circumstance, of course. :>

15. How do you think your writing as improved over time?

Hmmm. I mean, over time in general, it's improved in a lot of ways. Over the last couple of years (a.k.a. the time I've been in the Genshin fandom), I think I've done a lot of improvements on plotting and pacing, though for anyone who hasn't seen my original/older work then those improvements may not be obvious? Fanfic turns out to be a good low-stress space to play with that stuff. (One of the reasons I am so proud of An Open Hand is that I tried a lot of things around pacing in revisions, not just writing, that taught me new tricks, and I was able to bring those into play in the year following as I revised an original novel I'm working on.)

I don't think my prose has improved that much in the sentence level, and in fact I have a number of what I consider Known Bugs in my fanfic prose at present that I'm not putting effort into fixing when I write or revise because I, honestly, like my current prose flow even if it isn't ideal, and so that's the sort of killing-my-darlings I only worry about with my original work. I like purple prose, both reading and writing, and fanfic is where I can just do what's fun instead of what's Good.

But yeah, from a personal perspective, my pacing and to a lesser extent my plot flows have leveled up a fair bit from where I was in early 2020! As an example, I have a novel I wrote the first draft of as my 2020 Nano and obviously a first draft is going to be rough and a Nano one very much so, but I can hold it up against my current longfic and even with the WIPs, sheerly on the planning levels, I can see where I know more and have more of a toolbox than I did when I was slamming that out.

[thankyouforbeingsowrong]

15 questions

Thanks for tagging me @mr-iskender <3

1. Are you named after anyone? IRL my mum gave me my middle name after a 17th century writer. The name I've been going by online since high school is Tabitha or Tabby after the daughter from Bewitched 😂 I watched a lot of old TV reruns as a kid.

2. When was the last time you cried? Weirdly, I actually can't remember, but probably my last depressive episode. Thankfully they're few and far between at the moment!

3. Do you have kids? I have a two year old and it is indeed super hard to find time to write between work and family! I have gotten very good at writing on my phone so I can do it on the train to and from work and in bed as I'm falling asleep (maybe also at work shhhh). When I was writing the Advent fic I took several days of leave from work while my kid was in daycare to get some solid writing and editing done haha

4. Do you use sarcasm? Oh yeah

5. What is the first thing you notice about people? Depends on the person, but often their voice, unless they have a super obvious distinguishing feature, or really wild fashion.

6. What is your eye color? Greeny-brown depending on the light I think.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? I agree with Alex, these are not mutually exclusive or comparable but I definitely don't watch many scary movies anymore (I seem to only be able to rewatch ones I enjoyed as a teenager for the nostalgia factor), so I'll go with happy endings.

8. Any special talents?  I can hula hoop for a really long time, but I don't think I can do tricks anymore. This has come in handy exactly once in my life, and I won a tiny hat for my efforts.

9. Where were you born? At the JR in Oxford which is hilarious considering what fandom I'm in now.

10. What are your hobbies? I am one of those people who starts a million hobbies and then moves on if I'm crap at it or the novelty runs out. But besides writing I do love drawing, embroidery and crochet, I wish I had more time for them!

11. Do you have any pets? A very sweet old dog and a mean cat who doesn't like anyone in the house except me 🤣

12. What sports do you play/have you played? I don't think I've played a single sport since high school, I much prefer solitary exercise!

13. How tall are you? Like 160cm/5'3" I think

14. Favorite subject in school? In year 12 it was human biology, even though I also loved art and lit and went on to do a BFA, I just loved that class so much.

15. Dream job? My dream is to have no job, because I learned at uni that I do not like the pressure of doing anything creative for other people (especially if money is involved) but part time work if I could afford it - in a well-funded library - would be a big improvement!

I never know who to tag for these things, but if you want to do it say I tagged you! (I'm also nosy, I want to read your answers lol)

[enluv]

Through the years, I've always loved you.

— kang taehyun x fem!reader

word count: 808..!

genre/warning(s): f2l, skater!taehyun au, cursing, mutual pining, yeonjun is a brat but it's for the greater good! I am not too familiar with skate terms so if they don't make sense/seem odd then blame my small knowledge about skating.

coco's ♡ note: hello!! this fic is my baby, I am absolutely in LOVE with it, and it was so much fun to write!! skater!txt is my new favorite concept omfg.

Kang Taehyun is many things but he is not a liar. He doesn't deceive nor does he trick, but when it comes to his feelings, he's sure to lock them far away. He'd rather die then ever admit his true feelings for you, friendship is as far as you both go and he's finally learned to accept that.

He sits at a bench, arms covered in small scraps, band-aids liter his body as fresh ones roll in. He's trying to learn a new trick on his board but his mind is elsewhere – said elsewhere is you. Not even ten feet away, you stand laughing at some lame joke Yeonjun tells you. It makes his blood boil but nonetheless he stays quiet.

When Taehyun had introduced you to the friends he'd met at the skatepark earlier this year he'd already told them (ever so sternly) that you were off limits. If they messed with you then they messed with him, and no one wanted to mess with him.

"Y/N how about we go out for some food later," he hears Yeonjun ask.

"Oh that'll be fun, we can invite the boys and ask if they want to join. I'm sure they'll be hungry, especially after all the new stunts they're trying today."

Your response has him silently doubled over in laughter as he clutches his sore stomach. Of course you'd respond that way, you're clueless when a males attention is set on you. He'd know, you've been clueless your entire life with him. The last thing Taehyun sees is Yeonjun's sly smile falter as you turn away from him, and it leaves his mind on cloud nine.

Don't get him wrong here, it's not like he's never tried to confess, it's just that when he does try things never seem to go his way. Like the time when you were 13 and he wanted to so badly kiss you in the butterfly garden on your school's field trip, or the time when you both turned 16 and he desperately tried to muster up enough courage to give you his confession letter along with a birthday card, that obviously didn't work out but it would have definitely worked, or so he thinks. You're both 19 now and with so many new friends and new interest around you, it's hard to even get a word in. Taehyun has to sit and watch as you slip through his fingers once again.

Yeonjun thinks Taehyun's a coward and also a little dumb because any sane person can see that you clearly long for him the way he does for you, and he's just trying to help the process. His first plan – flirt with you, backfires completely because god forbid you from seeing his obvious tactics but he's not a quitter and goes on with his plan. Operation: get Taehyun (or you) to confess because you both look like lost puppies following one another around.

Taehyun's annoyed and anyone with eyes can see it. His moves are stiff and lacking causing his body to fall in odd ways. It's hard to watch as he wipes out for the nth time today. His mind is focused on you who's sat opposite him on a park bench and the annoying fly that's been attached at your hip. Yeonjun not be taking the hint that you're not interested and don't want a single thing to do with him and it pisses Taehyun off to no end.

"You know if you're so mad why don't you go over there and tell her how you feel," asks a very amused Beomgyu. None of the boys had ever seen Taehyun act this way, it's entertaining to say the least.

Beomgyu's suggestion goes right over his head as he stalks over to where you sit, fists turning white as he holds his board tighter with each step.

"Move," he says, leaving Yeonjun and yourself speechless at the almost malicious tone he harbors. And with a simple nod Yeonjun is off, his work here is done.

"Taehyun what's wro-"

"I'm in love with you."

The words roll out his mouth before he can even comprehend them but your surprised face says it all. Kang Taehyun, the boy you've known since you were 5, the same boy you've loved for many years now, your Taehyun, had just confessed his love for you.

"Oh well that's great, I'm in love with you too."

"You are?" His voice is an octave higher this time and disbelief is plastered on his face.

"Yes of course, I've always loved you."

"Okay cool, should we like date?" His response leaves you with a wide smile.

"Yeah we should like, date," and in the near distance you can hear the other boys cheer as Taehyun brings you into his arms, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

coco's ♡ note: you are in love with taehyun. dedicated to my gf sugar plum gum drop cinnamon apple ‐ @bb-fic-rec !

[strideofpride]

Also bc I’m greedy gimme some dvd commentary on the time travel au:

Blair presses some more. “Do you…uh, remember the day I left him? What I told you?”

“Is that a trick question? Of course, I remember, it was one of the greatest days of my life. And nights.” He smirks again and Blair feels heat rise to her cheeks at the implication. “You told me that you must’ve had severe head trauma or something, because you couldn’t stop thinking about me, even when you were with him. You yelled at me that I had purposely sabotaged your relationship with my movie nights and my friendship and my dumb book, and then when I told you I hadn’t done any of it on purpose, I just wanted you to be happy, you kissed me. And uh…” Now Dan blushes. “I knew that I would never kiss anyone else ever again.”

Blair sits in that revelation for a moment. The story feels like her, like something she would say and do, and she’s self-aware enough to know it was typical for her to be in denial until the bitter end. But she still can’t really wrap her head around the fact that Dan is going to be the person she loves one day.

But then he takes her hand and looks her straight in the eye, saying, “Blair, I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. And I made a promise that I would do whatever it takes to keep you happy and if it’ll make you unhappy to write about your relationship with your mother, I won’t do it. Okay?” And Blair maybe, sort of understands what her future self sees in him in that moment.

Blair nods. “Okay.” He cups her face and leans in to kiss her, but Blair is much more receptive than she was in the morning, kissing him back this time. He pulls away after several seconds, and the two get up and start clearing the table. They wash dishes together, her washing, him drying, just like that Christmas that was six months ago for her, but six years for him. It’s nice, Blair admits to herself. Being with him like this isn’t too horrible, she certainly could’ve done worse.

Okay, so here's where I have to preface this by saying I wrote this part of the fic over a full year ago, so my memory might be a little fuzzy...

But okay, so, this is what I would say is the first turning point for Blair. Keep in mind that Blair in this fic went to bed abused by one man she thought she loved and engaged to another. She's convinced herself that her and Dan are nothing more than friends. And now, she's woken up in a future where Chuck and Louis have no part in her life and she's married to Dan (not to mention she's missed out on five whole years), so she's more than a little confused and off balance for the first part of the fic. But this is when things start to change for her. It's no longer "how on Earth did I end up married to Dan, it's become...oh wait I can actually see how this might've happened."

This is a post 420 AU where Nate took out a restraining order against Chuck on Blair's behalf, so I kinda had to figure out a whole new way for Dair to get together. And that's the purpose of the first half of that passage really, just an exposition dump for both Blair and the reader. But also, yeah, I do think if Chuck wasn't in the picture, Blair would've fallen for Dan sooner and would've never gone through with the wedding to Louis.

And then that second half...I mean who is Dan Humphrey if not a man of words. And sweet, simple gestures. And like I said, this is the first moment where Blair goes "oh". And then I just wanted them to share a moment that was both domestic and already familiar to Blair, hence the washing dishes together again like in 411.

Yeah, this is definitely up there in fics I'm most proud of, second only to the [redacted] fic.

fic dvd commentary

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[chazz-anova]

tagged by my loves @johnnycranes and @scungilliwoman to fill out a lil 'about me'! thank you guys these are always so fun!

Name: Paige/Jaden (don't look at me ygogx was my fave)

Age: 22

Height: 5'2" short queens unite

Zodiac Sign: Gemini Sun/Sag Moon/Sag Rising ♊♐

Where do you call home: 'The navel of this great country' (gone girl quote my beloved) lol, but fr the central midwest!

Any tattoos or piercings: My ears are pierced, and I haveeeee (pausing to count) 19 tattoos! In quick succession they are- a black widow on my neck, lilacs on my shoulder, the maze from westworld on my inner right arm, some eyeballs in a jar from ozark on my wrist, the frog from otgw on my other shoulder, a lightening bolt on my lower arm, 'let me not be derided by fools' along my arm, sam from trick r treat with the pumpkin from halloween on my wrist, the evil eye on my inner arm, a quote below that saying 'bosses beware when we're screwed we multiply', the triple goddess, a bony fish on my thumb, the symbol for Venus on my index finger, devil horns on my middle finger, an evergreen tree on my ring finger, a gemini symbol on my ankle, a heart with the words 'fuck you' in it on my knee, some crossbones from the game dishonored on my other knee, anddddd a little ghost on my thigh! i think that's it! (didn't realize this would turn into a paragraph when i started listing them but i couldn't stop when i started lmao)

Last song you listened to: STFU - Pink Guy

Last movie you watched: I watched Treasure Planet to fall asleep last night!

Last book or fanfic you read: Last book I read was the first in the True Blood (Sookie Stackhouse) Series, last fanfic was uhhhhh my own probably- I'm so bad at reading fics unless people send them to me lol

Do you collect anything: Yes! I collect crystals for mystical reasons, candles, perfumes, and I have a decent collection of cups from the restaurant The Other Place that my mother so kindly donated to me from her collection lmfao

Morning person or night owl: Not to be that person but- both? I love an early morning where I can get my coffee and get some writing done as the birds begin to wake up, but I also bask in the hush of night and watching the lights twinkling in the city

Are you an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist: Optimist!

A quote you live by: There's a couple I can think of! "Progress isn't linear", "Every cloud has a silver lining", and one of my faves from Buffy The Vampire Slayer- "The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it. So be brave- live."

Are you an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert: Ambivert no question!!! I love being social and big, elaborate gatherings, but afterwards I will need like a week to recharge lol

Do you believe in an afterlife or not: Absolutely! I believe there's limbo, there's something after, and of course something before as well. I don't have anything necessarily fully formed- but I believe you reincarnate until you're learned all the lessons your soul must learn, and then you get to retire and function as a guide for others going through their lessons or possibly just get to rest for eternity! Probably depends on what you want or are destined for (not to sound hokey lol)

A weird or fun fact about yourself: Copying off of Mika's fun fact bc I'm unoriginal lmao, I was once an extra in a zombie movie with my mom and stepmom and her kids! After filming me and my family went to Dennys with all our makeup still on it was great lol

If you could have coffee with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be: Oooooh wonderful question... HARD question!!!! I would have to choose someone interesting like Robert Patterson (he seems nice and unhinged), or Julie d'Aubigny, that bisexual 17th century pirate/opera singer

tagging @fadedjacket @envyisms @chyrstis @depyotee @lovely-english-rose @adelaidedrubman and anyone else who would like to do it!!

[lilyclawthorne]

Keeping Up A-fear-ance's Thoughts

I finished writing this shortly after 3 am after watching the new episode like three times because I simply had too much energy about it and I have so many thoughts because I simply live for clawthornes and also I tried to break it up with more photos this time sorry not sorry if it's a lot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

YOUNG EDA!! let me just say I am quite a fan of opening with a flashback like we've done here and the last episode

"we have never seen a curse like this before" Lilith you had shit luck picking out curses huh

"cut it out if we have to" goddamn Gwen let'a calm the fuck down a bit.

anyways we've only really seen young Eda as a wild and confident and happy little child so I appreciate seeing this side of her with the anxiety and fear she's feeling here. I love seeing what the curse stuff was like for her as a kid

Gwen: I raised a perfectly fine kid

Me: no you didn't look at her she's got anxiety

I'm guessing this is their backyard or just some woods behind their house?? wonder if the portal was placed there by another elder family member.

lmao I can't even begin to imagine what small Eda experiencing the human realm was like for the first time

Gwens giving me "I can't accept that my child is disabled/chronically ill/etc." here. y’know the kinda parent that'll put their kid through hell over something they probably will find a way to learn to live with (which Eda did do)

ok that's it I humbly request to know the story behind the fang now (also the noise she made when she put it in was freaking cute)

new dress! new boots! new dress! new boots!

..yikes that fridge is empty

"calm down the curse acts stronger when you're stressed" Eda do you know who you're talking to here

confirmation losing limbs is in fact a side effect of the curse!! (y'know since Eda originally said it just happens when you get older)

please I love these sisters they're so sweet and make me wanna go 🥺

"suddenly curious about my past" "always. always curious" Luz says exactly what we all think

witchlet?? sweet flea?? she's got pet names for them 🥺 (although idk how much I'd like to be referred to as any kind of flea sorry Lilith)

ok Gwen is very much not close to what I expected and I'm kinda grateful for that

she's more like super caring but still managed to royally fuck up which was my original head canon for clawthorne parents so uh that's cool. but literally, look at their body language, Eda's pissed, Lilith's sad and making herself small. she's clearly messed up with her parenting on both of them along the way.

"who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions?" mama clawthorne would be a fucking anti-vaxxer wouldn't she

ok I side with Eda here more than Luz and Lilith. just because Luz misses her mother, or Lilith hasn’t seen their mom in so long doesn’t mean Eda has to feel all grateful for the presence of Gwen, especially if the woman has caused her a lot of trouble over the years

I feel like the fact that its actually both Lilith and Gwendolyn have spent their whole lives dedicated to trying to find a cure could probably have held some kind of weight on Eda at some point. Even though she shouldn't feel guilty or responsible for that, I still feel like it's gotta suck knowing these people have spent so much time on something you know is likely never gonna happen, all for you.

Lilith 😞 her mother really just didn't pay attention to her all these years

hey if this guy does some next level healing magic then why isn't he more well-known, huh? why’d it take so long to come across him?? Gwen do you know what the fuck you're doing cause I think you don't

Lilith just because you're depressed about your mom doesn't mean you have to bring king down too 😠

SUPER irrelevant but is anyone else just bothered by the way Lilith is holding her spoon?? that doesn't seem like a comfortable way to hold a spoon. also is she left handed??

"knife season came early" EDA WHAT DOES THAT MEAN. is this a boiling isles things or is this a it’s common for people to throw knives at you thing

also I want to be surprised Eda fell for the apple blood signs but I am not 😔 

Luz please trust you're gut on this one and not mama clawthorne

ok now I need to know why the fridge was empty but they had 18 cartons of ice cream this is why you guys don't have food you're wasting it all on ice cream.

wow never thought I'd see the day hooty became the voice of reason

also, night market ice cream?? are they implying this ice cream is like, edibles of some sort?? Lilith does seem kinda high here ngl. idk man but at least she wants to stand up for herself so good for her.

PLEASE kings just offering her ice cream while she transforms

"first in a series" Gwen honey oh no. you've been duped. I think we can see where Lilith got her naïveté from huh.

Also, nice snatch Luz 😊

anyways love how this show is basically making fun of moms who refuse to give their kids proper medical treatment or listen to medical professionals here

EXCUSE ME why do we know Gwen's palisman's name before we know Lilith's?????

"I am a mother who'll do anything for her daughter" you're mom who's suffocating obsession with one daughter has left the other neglected and is currently causing her to turn into a full on beast ya dummy

Eda DOES have a right to be upset. it sucks that her own valid emotions that she should get to feel will cause her while body to betray her.

PLEASE I’M SO GLAD LILITH’S BEAST DESIGN LOOKS LIKE HER AND IS NOT THE THING FROM THE TRAILER THAT IS ACTUALLY IN EDA"S HEAD WHEN SHE’S TRANSFORMED

but also why is she SO massive?? also anyone concerned that this is her first transformation and the light glyph trick wouldn't even work??

Gwen look at what you've done, you've fostered feelings of inferiority in one daughter causing her to feel the need for sibling rivalry that the pure instincts of the raven beast cannot suppress no matter how much their sisterly relationship had improved.

HOW COULD YOUR OTHER DAUGHTER ALSO BEING CURSED BE A PART OF THE PROCESS GWEN??

"after Eda was cursed, I joined the beast keeping coven" woah woah WOAH. you're telling me you only joined because of trying to help Eda. that covens existed, before Eda got cursed, and you very much weren't a part of one. combine that with "some words for belos" she has and do I smell wild witch theory still plausible???

anyways at least mama clawthorne is getting some sense into her head here

Morton c'mon help a girl out, that's some dang good art too what the heck dude

ok fine mama clawthorne to the rescue

no pls not raven beast Lilith crying im crying now

Gwen: I raised a fine and self-sufficient child

Me: no you didn't look at her. she's got, SO MUCH.

GODDAMN THATS SOME POWER. ngl this only adds fuel to the fire in my head that there was some kinda reasoning these sisters were torn apart, that someone felt they'd be too powerful together (and they were probably right)

"I heard you but I couldn't stop myself, I couldn't do anything" may be just because she's not used to the curse but again part of me is concerned that because she couldn't pull herself out of it even a little bit like Eda did that there's something wrong there. but she also could've been stressed beyond reasonably calming herself down too.

ok but this is sweet

NOOO im so sad Lilith's leaving :( I literally cried ok

"you lived here?" fine OKAY king that was hilarious even if im sad about this

"reconnect with dad" excuse me where the fuck has this man been in the middle of all of this. curse shit is going DOWN and he's just chilling at home.

I am curious about people's thoughts regarding the whole Lilith regression thing and the fact that she's literally going to be living with her parents again. I feel like it could help nurture that inner child she's been reverting back to and help her out a LOT. but I could also be concerned about it feeding into the regression and making it worse?? idk and this show probably ain't getting that actually deep into psych anyways

"some day my hair is gonna be big enough to do that too" Luz I cannot wait for the day. also mood, I wish I could do that too.

alright who's holding the fucking pen for hooty we need a volunteer RIGHT NOW so we can remain in contact with Lulu

NOT THE ONLY HUMAN? my bets on the real azura rip never mind she said he

Titan’s Blood?? interesting. If the blood of the titan is around I wonder what that means regarding the titans existence, and how long its been since the titan fell.

AHH BABY LUZ PHOTO

ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?? They're really gonna spring that on us like this??? Camila's gotta notice somethings wrong right??? Unless any differences she just chalks up to the camp?? oh god :(

well, anyways lumity shippers come get yo juice next weekend

anyways im gonna need to add a NOT canon compliant tag on that one Gwendolyn fic I wrote because it definitely do not comply anymore