#credit to my love's bumble scrolling

[enjscurls]

Grantaire????

[floralcyanide]

― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?” 

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies. 

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter. 

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other. 

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive. 

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that! 

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially. 

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add. 

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed. 

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. 

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly. 

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is. 

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith. 

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

 Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement. 

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas. 

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow. 

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive. 

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine. 

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person. 

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you. 

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger. 

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain. 

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness. 

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night. 

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you. 

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins. 

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner. 

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a  few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

[profound-decay-theory]

Just saw the Barbie movie and was scrolling through content afterwards and seeing all this positive stuff

The movie was one of the better pieces of cinema I've watched. It tried to have meaning, which is more than most other things can say.

It was absolutely gorgeous at parts but still fell short in a lot of places, which I don't see people talking about as much.

Spoilers ahead

This is of course my own takeaway.

The movie was a giant ad. It had to be, if we were going to have a Barbie movie it was going to be full of Mattel. The entire intro for the movie could've been a commercial. I was very apprehensive, and worried that the whole movie was going to be, hey, look at the glorious Barbie™️! It's been progressive since the very beginning. Women were forced to become mothers to baby dolls, but then they got an adult doll! And eventually the adult doll got different jobs! And eventually different skin colors! And eventually even, the "curvy" barbie. Sorry for the body image issues, kids 😔

To give credit to Mattel, Barbie is 100% one of the more progressive brands out there. The entire purpose of barbie is that the doll is supposed to represent, in a way, the child playing with it. This means that the child is more susceptible to being influenced by the Barbie than other toys. Mattel changed the default body mold sometime when I was younger, if I remember correctly, and have all sorts of dolls with disabilities and specialized dolls, such as those with down syndrome or vitiligo. They're also actively attempting to correct mistakes the brand has made in the past, such as Computer Engineer Barbie. Look that up for some... fun.

This, however, doesn't mean that the entire intro sequence being essentially a superbowl commercial is excusable. There are also a lot of random brand placements that aren't throughout the movie, most notable of which being the birkenstock sandal that Barbie is forced to choose when she has to go to Reality. This is supposed to be a movie about being human, what it means, and female empowerment. The random product placement takes away from the viewing experience.

It also undermines the whole "Mattel CEO" plot line that they had. He said something to the effect of "you think I became a CEO just because I care about the bottom line? [money] I care about little girls and their dreams!" This is almost immediately undermined by the fact that he is instantly swayed on the mom's barbie because he was told it would sell really well. They really need to outline this guy's motivations- oh wait. They did. He just doesn't follow them. He's a plot convenient device that is the bad guy only when he absolutely needs to be, but who instantly redeems himself because Mattel can't look bad. And what was up with the box? Would it send Barbie back or not? Why does she remember a box?

The mom? And daughter? Yeah. Those two. Who were they again? The mix up between the two was an incredibly minor part of the story. Again, they were plot convenient. Slightly better than the CEO though. I don't remember the mom's name- did they give her one? Seems kinda important for a woman to have one in this kind of movie, right? Especially if her entire job is to "Bechdel Test" the other women. [After some research, her name is Gloria. They did give her a first name, but not a last name. Did anyone else miss her name?] She's dark and creepy and weird, right? But like not really. She just kinda is a woman. A normal human being. Who has cellulite. (They kinda made that a bigger deal then it needed to be, right??) And her daughter, Sasha. She sure flipped around quick. All of a sudden she loves her mom!! What happened to make her upset and tear others down?? The patriarchy? But that was rampant in Barbieland too. It seems like that would've been more of a "look, even a fantasy land can get corrupted" speech then a "ooh, I suddenly love my mom! Let's fix it!" Besides, what man hurt her? Her dad is demonstrated to be a bumbling idiot. She just kinda took up a cause? They really needed to flesh these characters out more, and maybe spend less time on "Hey Barbie!"

Honestly, it felt like they spent their money on pink paint and ran out of money for character development, except for Margot Robbie (I have nothing bad to say about Margot Robbie). This could've just been a Barbie movie. The feminist empowerment speeches felt like they were taken from the internet then edited by men to be screen friendly, they undercut every hearfelt moment with humor, half the characters were unnecessary, and the plot left you with a billion questions. What was the brainwashing? Where did the Kens sleep?

What does it mean to be a human (woman)? A toy company asks.

This movie definitely had its good parts and bad parts. For me, having seen all sorts of advertising and not really having been a huge Barbie or movie fan, I was still hoping it was really good. Of course, going in with that mindset, I was instantly disappointed when I saw rampant advertising and poorly fleshed-out ideas and characters. Ken's explanation of why he basically enslaved the Barbies at the end of the movie is unsatisfactory, and makes the audience wonder if that was the original plan, or if the marketing went so well that they had to redeem Ken last minute. He would've worked better as the lovesick sidekick that he originally was, instead of attempting to compare men in Barbieland to woman in Reality and then treating them like villians.

The movie split itself between the ideas of being a woman and being human- it characterized being a woman as an awful experience that one is wonderful for enduring, and being a human as wonderful in itself. The CEO of Mattel stood in the way of Barbie becoming human, and the person who played with Barbie, as well as her daughter, helped Barbie understand womanhood. Removing these two concepts, which needed tl be expanded on in a way the main plot of the movie didn't allow for, and allowing Barbie to discover womanhood and being a human as the same thing might have elevated the movie and allowed for some more of the contemplative moments that characterized some of the better parts of the movie. Barbie doesn't learn to love being a woman, supposedly the point of Mattel's Barbie line. Instead, she learns to love being human, in which the pains of womanhood come along with it. A better feminist movie would follow the lines of "love yourself first" that the Barbie movie simply does not.

But why then, is this movie rated so high?

Why have people been ranting about it online, drawing obsessively, buying tickets again and again?

This movie asks questions.

They show the tree leaves rustling, children laughing, a couple arguing. They show Barbie mirroring the emotions of the world around her.

They show Barbie, tears streaming down her face, turning to the old woman beside her and say, "You're beautiful".

The old woman laughs, "I know it."

She is beyond cellulite. She is beyond thoughts of death. She is beyond shame.

She is everything Barbie is afraid to be.

And yet as Ken drags her away, Barbie looks back, face red, eyes wet, not perfect.

There is a reason the content I have eagerly consumed has been positive.

Barbie in the Yellow Dress, on her way to becoming Barbara, is the prettiest I have seen her. I couldn't stop staring at Margot Robbie throughout the movie, as her eyes kept looking so uncannily painted on. But she looked so human right there. Something you rarely see in movies. The red in her face- the blood flowing under her skin. Her watery eyes. The locket sitting against her throat, a sign of memories, of feelings, of caring. Not to mention, the outfit she wore the most throughout the movie was the cowgirl one, which had a bandana covering her throat. Having it exposed now was a sign of vulnerability. Humanness.

The ending, too. We all assumed she was off to get a job. But no, she was going to the gynecologist! At first thought, this was a tacky way to end a beautiful sequence, and the movie itself.

But this ending has layers. It not only recognizes her newfound humanness by acknowledging her... new lack of smoothness, but gynecologists are mostly females. This also is a job that wouldn't exist in Barbieland. A very quick search reveals no gynecologist Barbies, and I couldn't see Mattel making one due to the age range of their target market. I wouldn't be suprised if she wanted to become one, seeing as it's very human. And she'll accomplish something! What she always wanted was to be something important. And here she won't be copying anyone she used to know. She'll be Dr. Barbara Handler, and she'll get used to correcting men and saying it's Doctor Handler, actually, not Ms. or Mrs., and I'm not interested in becoming a Mrs, thank you. Or maybe she'll find something else or someone else.

That's the glorious part of being human.

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Two - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO tasks Pinky and The Brain with the important assignment of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids. 

Word Count: 3,017

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/68388166 

The mice continued on their way through the studio lot, holding hands as they went. As they found themselves alone near the lot entrance, Brain decided to discuss his latest plan with his partner.

“Listen close, Pinky, for I have devised a surefire plan to take over the world. Your ingenious decision of choosing The Iron Giant as our date night movie the other evening has greatly inspired me, Pinky. We will build a giant robot to assert our dominance over humanity!” Brain eagerly declared, choosing to ignore the pacifist message of the beloved animated movie. “I’ve already made calculations for our finances, and we would need exactly five million dollars to buy the necessary parts. Fortunately, I’ve come up with a brilliant way to acquire the funds.” 

Brain pulled Pinky closer as he explained. “We will start a family-friendly crafts tutorial channel on YouTube, teaching children how to make slime among other wholesome DIY-projects. After we grow a substantial following, we’ll shamelessly peddle overpriced merchandise! Once we make a fortune from selling our wares, we will then purchase the necessary materials to construct our mech which we will use to intimidate the Canadian Prime Minister and ascend to power!” 

The Brain began to chuckle evilly, and Pinky joined in with his eager giggling. 

“But first, we must purchase filming equipment from the electronics store and return to the lab!” Brain commanded. 

“Say Brain, how do you spell DIY?” Pinky asked, taking out a pen and notebook. 

Brain blushed furiously upon hearing his boyfriend’s moronic question. “Pinky, you are without a doubt the most imbecilic mouse I’ve ever met. But, by Ptolomey, I am madly in love with you.” 

“Aw Brain!” Pinky cooed, moving his tail into the shape of a heart. 

As the lab mice were about to exit the movie lot, they were stopped by Ralph the security guard. 

“Uh, hold it right there.” The bumbling guard ordered. “The CEO wants me to bring you two to her office by cone, duh-I mean drone!” 

The mice were immediately swooped into a net and carried above by the drone. Ralph had some difficulty controlling the drone, but he managed to fly the rodent actors over to the main office building in the middle of the studio lot. 

“This is utterly mortifying.” Brain commented as he tried to prop himself into a more comfortable position. 

“Oh cheer up, Brain,” Pinky consoled. “Think of it like we’re on a magic carpet ride!” The taller mouse wrapped his arm around Brain, pulling him close as he began to sing. “I can show you the worl-”

But Brain clapped his hand over Pinky’s mouth while wearing an indignant frown. “Don’t.” The smaller mouse spat.

As the drone flew through an open window in the office building, the mice were immediately greeted by the company CEO, Nora Rita Norita. The businesswoman brought out a pair of scissors, cutting through the net. Upon liberation, the mice fell down onto one of the leather chairs facing the front of her desk. 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Ms. Norita addressed. 

“Frankly I would have preferred some prior notification about this emergency meeting, such as an email or a text message, as opposed to being captured in a drone and flown over against my will, but here we are.” Brain soured. 

“Are we in trouble?” Pinky asked worriedly. The taller mouse paced back and forth on the chair as he started to panic. “I swear I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m innocent, I tell you! Innocent! You can’t make me go back to the big house!” 

“No, I can assure you that you’re not in any serious trouble.” The CEO told the buck-toothed mouse.

Pinky was immediately relieved by the news. “Oh thank goodness.” He sighed. “Sorry if I got a little carried away there.” 

“A little?” Brain snapped sardonically. 

“Gentlemen,” Ms. Norita curtly alerted the mice, who gave her their undivided attention. “I’ve called you here because I have an important task for you to complete over the weekend. I have a very important business conference with some very important people in the Warner Brother’s office and I don’t want the Warner children to cause any problems. And since I became aware of your friendly rapport with the Warners, I have decided to give you two the important task of watching over the Warners starting tomorrow afternoon, where you will take care of them outside of the movie studio until Sunday evening.” 

Pinky stood up and cheered. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun with the little angels over the weekend!”

Brain, on the other hand, was shocked that the CEO would disrupt his regular routine and plans for world domination, one of the few things he had complete control over. 

The CEO confidently smiled, happy that at least one of them was on board. “And to sweeten the offer, I already booked a nearby hotel with five-star accommodations and you can use the company credit card for any additional payments over the weekend that aren’t related to world domination.” She said, showcasing the golden credit card. Pinky’s eyes glistened as he gazed at the card, clearly enamored by how shiny it was. Brain, however, let out a defeated groan since he couldn’t use the card for his own selfish purposes. 

Ms. Norita continued to speak. “I sent you all the information in an email, and-”

“Why are you assigning us to complete this task?” Brain interrupted. 

“Because I noticed how well you and your partner get along with the Warners.” The CEO answered with feigned enthusiasm. “And who can do a better job at watching those troublesome kids than people who could put up with their antics.” 

Brain cringed when she referred to the energetic kids as mere troublemakers. He genuinely enjoyed being around the Warners ever since the original run of Animaniacs. He recalled the days where he and Pinky spared some of their free time to check in on the Warners. From sharing the same table during lunch hour to visiting them in their home in the water tower before sunset, when the mice had to leave for Acme Labs. Even though the kids had a knack for craziness, the Warners were genuinely good kids who craved validation and attention. 

But despite being on good terms with the children, Brain was far too upset that his usual schedule had been suddenly modified by a force outside of his control. He didn’t want another chance to take over the world to skip off into the sunset. 

“But Pinky and I already have plans for the weekend!” Brain argued. “And besides, shouldn’t you recruit a more qualified candidate like Bugs Bunny?”

“He’s busy filming for the Looney Tunes Cartoons and the new Space Jam movie.” Ms. Norita explained. “And what, may I ask, did you have planned for the weekend that’s so important to you?” She asked dryly. 

“We were going to take over the world by making a crafts YouTube channel for the little kiddies!” Pinky answered. 

“I think you can put your little pet project on hold,” Ms. Norita explained to the smaller mouse. “So I suggest you accept the task like the grown-up that you are or I’ll fire you, inform the press it was a matter of ‘creative differences’ and have Edgwin on board as your replacement.” 

The two mice exchanged shocked and horrified glances at the sheer audacity the CEO had for even considering the idea of messing with their brilliant chemistry. 

“Why would you do something so cruel!?” Pinky remarked, but Brain gently took the taller mouse’s hands into his own. 

“Please, ignore my partner’s outburst, for I’m more than happy to cancel my weekend plans!” Brain exclaimed with a nervous chuckle. “After all, we do have the previous child-rearing experience, making us more than qualified for the job!” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” The CEO got up from her desk and walked over to the door, opening it up and gesturing the two mice to make their leave. “Have a fun weekend.” 

Brain grabbed Pinky by the hand and they made their jump from the chair onto the floor. The pudgy mouse tugged his lanky partner as they exited her office. 

Once the mice were gone, Nora Rita Nortita retrieved her cell phone, scrolled through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for. 

Inside the water tower, Wakko and Dot were watching a competitive baking show on Netflix while Yakko was snug in his ball pit bed, watching a shounen anime that Wakko constantly infodumped on his tablet while eating a bag of potato chips. While he initially watched the show so he could better connect with his sibling, the eldest Warner became emotionally invested in the story. As the big fight scene was about to start, he felt his smartphone vibrate in his pocket. The eldest Warner fished out his phone, saw Nora Rita Nortita’s picture on the home screen. He pressed pause on his tablet and quickly answered the call. 

“Yello, Warner residence! Totally responsible young adult Yakko Warner speaking!” He answered, trying to sound as mature as possible. 

“Hi, this is Nora Rita Norita.” The CEO answered. “And I have some rather exciting news to deliver.” 

“Oh?” Yakko replied in a casual tone. 

“As you may know, I will be holding an incredibly important conference this weekend, so I assigned Pinky and The Brain to watch over you and your siblings at a five-star hotel this weekend.” 

“Really!?” Yakko asked with child-like enthusiasm. “Pinky and The Brain are taking us to a fancy hotel this weekend! Oh man, that’s fantastic news!” 

Wakko and Dot paused their show and immediately rushed over to their brother’s bedside upon hearing the words ‘Pinky’, ‘The Brain’ and ‘fancy hotel’. 

“The mice will pick you up tomorrow in front of the water tower at noon, and you better not come back to the studio lot at any point before Sunday evening.” The CEO informed him. 

“You kidding? We rarely get to hang out with those guys, considering how busy they are trying to take over the world. So we intend to cherish every waking second with those two!” Yakko answered. 

“Great,” Norita drawled. “I’m sure the five of you will have a grand old time this weekend. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a power-meeting to attend.” 

Yakko heard the phone click on the other end, but he was too excited by the news to care about the CEO’s rude behavior. “Hey sibs! We’re spending the weekend with Pinky and the Brain!” The eldest Warner proclaimed. Wakko and Dot cheered uproariously, bouncing up and down with excitement. 

“Say, do you two remember during the original run of Animaniacs when those two would usually hang out with us on the studio lot whenever we weren’t filming for the show?” Yakko asked his siblings, feeling rather nostalgic. 

“Like how we’d sit at the same table at the commissary during lunchtime and they’d swing by the water tower?” Wakko reminisced. “Or how Pinky would make us bowls of macaroni and cheese, and Brain would read me my favorite picture books!” He reached into their hat and took out The Very Hungry Caterpillar and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. 

“Or the times I’d give Pinky makeovers, and how we would pester Brain into taking us to McDonald’s!” Dot added as she eagerly clapped her hands. 

“Ah, those were the days!” Wakko blissfully sighed. 

“And not only do we get to relive those days again, but we’ll be staying at a luxury hotel! It’ll be like having a weekend-long sleepover!” Dot exclaimed. 

“Well sibs, I think it’s best if we start packing!” Yakko declared. The three siblings immediately took out their suitcases and began to pack away their essentials for their weekend vacation. 

Yakko put in a dozen pairs of brown slacks into his brown suitcase. Wakko took the refrigerator and stuffed it into their blue suitcase. Dot placed her finest attire into her purple suitcase. 

As the Warners continued to pack, they fondly remembered the good times during the original run of Animaniacs. While Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were mostly on their own, there were a handful of adults who spent quality time with them. Bugs Bunny, Slappy Squirrel, and Pinky and The Brain were their usual suspects. Bugs and Slappy usually entertained the kids with stories from the golden age of their careers and gave them helpful advice on thriving in the industry. Pinky and The Brain, however, proved to be a rare exception, since they’re genetically-altered lab mice and not technically toons. Regardless of their status, the mice would usually check in on the kids, make friendly conversation and share gossip, and indulge in their interests. But the mice always made sure to leave before the twilight, since they had to return to the lab and develop their schemes for world domination. And, like Bugs and Slappy, the mice never talked down to them and always treated them with kindness and respect. 

The Warners were eager to spend quality time with the mice once again. 

-                     -                       -                         -                       -

By the time evening rolled around, the mice returned to Acme Labs. When they arrived in their humble abode in the green cage, Brain decided to take some time to cope with the drastic change in his routine schedule by engaging in his deep breathing exercise. During his moments of self-reflection, Pinky looked on at his partner with loving eyes, proud that he was applying the techniques he learned from therapy through his own volition. The lanky mouse then put on his frilly green apron and scurried outside the cage to make his world-famous no-bake cheesecake for his roommate. 

Once Brain completed his mindful exercise, he came to the realization that he can make the most out of the weekend. He would receive some fulfillment from seeing Pinky happy. Additionally, spending time with the Warners would guarantee to bring some excitement to his nearly absent social life, and there was also the possibility that some of their antics could be a source of inspiration for potential plans for world domination. Everybody would win in this situation!

The mouse immediately went over to his tablet and began to conduct his research on the hotel and potential activities to do over the weekend. Finally accepting his role as weekend guardian, he was not going to do a sloppy job with the task he was assigned. 

“What common activities do most American families engage in during the weekend?” Brain pondered aloud. “Oh, I know, a trip to the library or an afternoon at the local park,” He muttered as he jotted down his thoughts on notebook paper. Then there were activities that required monetary exchange. Knowing that he would have full access to the company credit card, he was definitely going to have a field day with treating everyone to expensive spending sprees. Trips to the mall if the kids wanted anything in particular. Even splurging on the finest toy clothes that Pinky and himself would love to add to their wardrobes. Brain was also wildly determined to have at least one fancy fine-dining experience over the weekend!

Just as Brain neared completion in devising his plans and contingency plans for the weekend, Pinky arrived, carrying a big plate of cheesecake over to the wooden spool. 

“Oh Brain, I made you your favorite!” Pinky called out whilst flirtatiously fluttering his eyes. 

The pudgy mouse placed his work aside and eagerly rushed over to the makeshift table, where Pinky finished setting two additional plates and silverware. The lanky mouse gave his roommate a generous slice of cheesecake before taking a smaller portion for himself. Taking a fork, Brain scooped a piece of his cheesecake and ate it. The mouse was in a state of euphoria, savoring the scrumptious dessert. After allowing the cheesecake to melt into his mouth, he swallowed the pastry and let out a contented hum. 

“Pinky, your pastries are simply divine!” Brain complimented. 

Pinky blushed at the praise he received. “Aw Brain, I’m just happy that you like my cooking. Zort!” 

Brain took a napkin and wiped away the crumbs from the sides of his mouth. He decided to engage in some amiable small talk. “So Pinky, are you looking forward to our mini-vacation tomorrow?”

“Oh yes! I’m going to have a fun-fun, silly-willy time watching over the kids!” The lanky mouse cheered. But his grin slowly faded into a worrisome frown. “But Brain, while I was preparing the cheesecake, Jerry the Gerbil dropped by and he told me that the scientists were planning a big, month-long separation experiment starting Saturday!” 

“A month-long separation experiment?” Brain repeated with great concern. 

Pinky nodded. “He said that the scientists would take some of the rodents that roomed together and place them in different parts of the lab, where they would write about our emotions and stuff!” 

“That’s terrible news.” Brain remarked. “And what serendipitous timing…” 

“What do you mean, Brain?” Pinky inquired. He was surprised to see his roommate take his hands into his own. 

“Since we’ve been tasked to supervise the Warners over the weekend, we needn’t worry about the experiment.” Brain consoled his roommate as he caressed Pinky’s hands. “We would be outside of the lab during the beginning phase of the experiment and by the time we return, the scientists would have already selected the other poor souls residing in the lab as their test subjects, and we would avoid any emotional trauma that would come from participating in the cruel test in its entirety.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief!” Pinky sighed.

“So there’s no need to dwell on such things, Pinky.” Brain soothed. “Try to divert all of your energy and attention on preparing for our little trip.” 

“Right-o!” Pinky concurred with renewed enthusiasm. The mouse released himself from Brain’s hold and retrieved his floral printed suitcase. 

“Now make sure to pack all your essentials,” Brain commanded. “I have a feeling that we are about to have an unforgettable weekend.” 

AN: Another quick chapter that’s essentially build-up for what’s to come. When it came to writing Brain’s initial refusal to take the job, I felt like having him freak out over not having control over his regular routine is more in-character to him, plus with the added stakes of the CEO threatening to fire him. So he just swallows his pride and tries to make the most out of the situation. 

I also included one of my other headcanons where The Warners had a handful of toon guardians who checked in on them on a regular basis (Pinky and the Brain, Slappy Squirrel, Bugs Bunny) because they’re well aware of how poorly the industry treats people like them and they want to make sure that the kids are okay. 

Jerry the Gerbil was actually a reference to the Pinky and The Brain episode ‘The Family That Poits Together, Narfs Together’. We don’t see him at all, but Brain and Pinky reference him. Plus it seemed like the most logical choice to have Pinky get the news of the experiment from another rodent in the lab. And yes, this plot point will come back into play later in the story. 

And I also wanted to have a scene where Pinky makes cheesecake for Brain, as a nice little nod to Future Brain (which is easily my favorite segment from the reboot) and I love the idea of Pinky baking food for Brain, and it gave me a great excuse to write some domestic bliss between the two!

And I want to give a special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading this chapter!

The next chapter will be considerably longer, so it may take a bit to post it up, but it’s full of fluff and fun bonding scenarios. 

Thanks for reading!

[the-al-chemist]

Happy FWF! Regarding your HPHL MCs, are there any characters from other works who inspired them/contributed to their personality and looks? -hphmmatthewluther

Thanks for the ask, Guzma! And happy FFWF to you, too! 💛

So, I knew when I thought about making an HPHL oc or maybe two (haha I was so naïve!) that I would want to look into Artemis’ family background. We know a bit about her mother’s side of the family, because I’ve extrapolated from existing canon, but the Hexleys are my own invention entirely, so I wanted to explore that lineage.

In my character profile for Artemis, I’d written that she had French heritage. This wasn’t an accident, there’s a reason for it (the clue is in Héloïse’s profile but it’s subtle), so I knew I wanted a character that would be either French or french-descended. When I was looking for a faceclaim for Artemis’ mother Sara I considered using Audrey Tautou, but decided against it because she looked too French (also Rachel Weisz does look weirdly like Alison Sudol with Artemis’ dark hair and hazel eyes) but I loved the idea of using her as a faceclaim. Voila, I had Héloïse.

The idea of Jim and Héloïse’s love story is inspired by a few fictional stories, in which characters try to form a bond despite not understanding each other’s language: Colin Firth’s Portuguese storyline in Love Actually (the best Christmas movie ever), Brian Friel’s play Translations, and above all, William Shakespeare’s Henry V. There is a scene (Act 5, Scene 2) in which King Henry attempts to woo his future wife, Kate, and this was more than anything the inspiration for Jim and Héloïse. They evolved from here.

Part of the fun of HPHL is that there’s so much freedom in what we can create, so I wanted an OC I could use to forge her own path and connect with all my AMAZING mutuals’ HPHL characters. Along came Ethel, her chatty and overbearing personality, her wit and verbal dexterity, and faceclaim fully formed in my mind - she was Maya Hawke, specifically in the TV adaptation of Little Women. She and Josh O’Connor (who has the bumbling English gent quality I love in Jim) have this passing resemblance, so their appearances were sealed. With regards to fictional characters, Ethel’s mainly inspired by Elle Woods from Legally Blonde, but there’s a bit of Cher Horowitz from Clueless, and Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing in the mix too - witty, outgoing and exasperating women, who are capable of a lot more than people give them credit for because they never seem to take anything seriously. An honourable mention also has to go to Angelica Schuyler from the musical Hamilton, particularly these lyrics:

I’ve been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine, so men say that I’m intense or I’m insane. You want a revolution, I want a revelation, so listen to my declaration: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal” - and when I meet Thomas Jefferson, imma compel him to include women in the sequel, WORK!

Finally, Ophelia. Oh, my accidental but beloved OC Ophelia. Her whole appearance comes from @lifeofkaze who sent me a picture of an angry looking Mia Wasikowska in Victorian era clothing with a message saying “she looks like another grandmother for Artemis… and you don’t have a Slytherin”. I resisted, but as always, Bestie knew best.

With Ophelia, I had the idea of subverting the “ambitious woman” stereotype. She’s ambitious. Very ambitious. It’s just that her ambition is to become a trophy wife. It’s so unlike me and my other characters, that I’ve had real fun with it. Her fictional inspirations are Eliza Doolittle from Pygmalion, Catherine Morland from Northanger Abbey, and above all, Amy March from Little Women, particularly in this scene from the 2019 film adaptation:

I’m so sorry, that’s the longest answer ever!! And I’m on the app so can’t put a cut in it, my apologies to everyone having to scroll through this shit.

[author-a-holmes]

Writing Exercise - Belief

How Do Your Writing Exercises Work?

Essentially, I go to a “Single Word Prompt Generator” and have it throw a random word at me. Then I go to Unsplash.com and use that word to search their database of images, and scroll through for something that catches my attention.

This may be something where I simply want to describe what’s in the image, or maybe it sparks a small story nugget in my brain. Regardless, I then take the picture and post it here, with credit, and proceed to write for 15 minutes.

Whatever I produce, I share with you lovely people. Unedited. Typos are to be expected.

Word Prompt: Belief

Photo by Michael B. Stuart on Unsplash

I believe in rain. Thundering down in cascades that blind the world beyond the window pane.

I believe in storm clouds. Dark on the horizon, their presence a physical pressure, charging the air and pressing against my lungs.

I believe in lightning. Sheets illuminating the night, ragged forks splitting the sky asunder and connecting the earth with the realm above.

I believe in tree’s. Young saplings that sway in the summer breeze, and ancient monstrosities that grow their girth with every passing century.

I believe in fire. It’s cleansing heat ravaging the earth, and clearing the path for the new, the fresh, and next generation.

I believe in the young doe. As she teaches her first fawn how to scavenge for food in the winter months.

I believe in snow, coating the earth in crystalline white. Placing a perfect powder across the land and sending creatures into the dark sleep, the long night.

I believe in the aurora borealis. Lights playing across the sky in a myriad of shades, dancing across the night sky in a performance never to be repeated, for chosen eyes only.

I believe in rainbows. In the arch of colour across a grey sky and in the play between light and water, the only time their touch can be seen.

I believe in nature. In her beauty, in her power, in her dangers and in the way she can be seen in both the hurricane and tsunami, but also in the butterfly and the bumble bee.

I believe in nature. What do you believe in?

[artificialqueens]

Sweet like Sugar (Branjie) - Delia

AN: Hey lovelies! This is my first time writing fic, so please be gentle but also let me know what you think…a little Branjie sugar mommy for your nerves x ps: if you have any questions, comments or concerns feel free to hit me up on @thvnderfuckz pps: tw for some, very minor, implied daddy kink

BLH

25/F/New York City

I’m a 25 year old dancer from Toronto, working to start my career. I like fashion, nights out, and travelling. Seeking a partner who is fun, adventurous, and willing to support me in pursuit of my dream.

Brooke Lynn read over her bio for what must have been the seventh time in as many minutes and let out a sigh. Each draft that she’d written had sounded more robotic than the last. It’d been a long time since she had to write anything like this, having deleted Tinder, Bumble, and HER off her phone not long after she left Toronto. Since moving to New York, she’d discovered that she much preferred going out and finding women to hook up with in person. With her long blonde hair, dancer’s physique, and innate flirtiness, it was easy enough to find someone willing to take her home for the night. Easier, at least, than talking to a girl on an app for weeks, only to find out that she was interested in a long term commitment, and having to deal with their messy emotions after Brooke told them that she wasn’t interested. If there was one thing that she did not do, it was relationships.

And now, she was trying to get paid to be in one.

She’d be lying if she said that she never thought she’d be in a position like this. From the time Brooke had told her friends and family that she’d wanted to pursue dance as a full time career, she’d been given the “wouldn’t you rather something more secure” speech more times, and by more people than she could be bothered to count. Even her older sister Katya, who’d chosen to make abstract semi-sacrilegious art her vocation in life, had tried to suggest to her that she do something with a future that was less uncertain. But Brooke knew that she was born to dance, no matter what anyone tried to tell her to the contrary. If anything, their doubt fuelled her drive, and made it all the sweeter when she’d been offered a role in ensemble of the Broadway production of Moulin Rouge! upon her graduation from Ryerson. The moment that she’d stepped off the plane at JFK and stepped into the apartment that she would be sharing with another ensemble member from the show, Scarlet, she felt as though she was living her wildest dreams come true.

In all of her excitement at the time, Brooke forgot that the most wonderful dreams often lead to the harshest wake ups.

Four months into her run, the cast began to notice a dwindling number of fans at the stage door after each performance. Five months into her run, cast and crew alike began whispering about finding new jobs soon. Six months into her run, on a particularly humid Sunday in July, the cast and crew were gathered by the production team before everyone left the theatre and were told that the show would be closing at the beginning of September, after the Labour Day weekend. Brooke immediately started panicking at the prospect of being out of a job in one of the most expensive cities in the world. There was nothing she wanted less than to have to move back home to Toronto with her tail between her legs.

It had been two years since Moulin Rouge! closed, and although Brooke had managed to avoid making the move back home, she hadn’t been able to get a job performing since. She was always too tall, or too technical, or didn’t have enough personality. She’d been able to find a job in the meantime, teaching classes at a dance studio in Tribeca, but the money she made from that was barely enough to cover her necessities. It certainly didn’t cover luxuries such as brunch with your ex-roommate, as Brooke found out after her credit card was declined at her and Scarlet’s bi-weekly date. She barely had time to try and form an apology before she witnessed Scarlet reaching into her purse and placing a crisp one hundred dollar bill on the table, telling the waitress to keep the sixty dollars in change. Her embarrassed expression transformed into one of jaw-dropped shock as the redhead pulled her from the restaurant.

On the walk back to the subway, Scarlet revealed to Brooke that she’d been various “mutually beneficial relationships” with different men since she’d first moved to the city when she was 19, and that it had been her main source of income even while she was performing.

“It’s easy money, plus it’s kind of empowering,” explained Scarlet in her low voice, which still held a hint of the drawl indicative of her Southern upbringing. “It’s like, they have the money but I have all the emotional power. Without me generously donating my time to them, all these men have are their frigid marriages, or soul sucking jobs. A lot of the time the only thing standing between these powerful, rich men and a complete nervous break is me. And if that’s not power, I don’t know what is. So if I have to laugh at a few bad jokes and kiss a couple of CEOs to be able to live the kind of life I want, all while knowing that I could end any of these men at any given moment, then so be it.”

Oddly inspired by her friend’s speech, Brooke downloaded the sugar dating app onto her phone later that day.

And now here she was, sitting in front of her laptop at 11:00 pm on a Saturday night, drinking a bottle of wine and stress reading her three sentence bio for at least the tenth time. Fuck it, she thought, this is as good as it’s gonna get.

After clicking the “submit” button, Brooke was redirected to a page showing all of the potential sugar daddies in her area. As she scrolled through pages upon pages of photos of headless torsos, she became increasingly regretful of her decision to not filter out men immediately.

CEToEs

Disgusting.

KinkyExec

Nope.

DominantDaddy

Absolutely not.

Brooke was a lesbian, and had known that since she was 14. However, Scarlet told her that there were far more sugar daddies than sugar mommies in the New York area, and that a lot of the time the men didn’t necessarily even want sex. But as she clocked the usernames of several of the daddies on the app, it was clear that the redhead had either lied to her or was somehow the most blissfully oblivious girl in the city.

The blonde promptly returned to her settings page and deselected men as an interest. When she returned to the home page, she was delighted to see the profiles of fifty-or-so women pop up. She began scrolling again, hoping that someone would catch her eye.

WorldsMostPunkRockMoms

Meh. The two blonde women in the thumbnail picture were definitely beautiful, but Brooke didn’t know how she felt about getting involved with a couple who had a child.

Detoxicant

The woman in this picture looked like she’d had a lot of plastic surgery. Still, she was hot. Brooke tapped the little heart icon next to the photo and continued scrolling.

Toward the bottom of the page there was one profile that had a little green dot next to the thumbnail. Brooke took a little comfort in the fact that she wasn’t the only one on this app at this time on a weekend night. She clicked on the profile and two pictures filled her screen. The first was a headless torso shot of a woman wearing an oversized Versace t-shirt as a dress. Although her face was out of frame, Brooke could tell that the woman’s hair was a caramel brown, at least at the tips, and went to just below her collarbone. The second image was another faceless picture, but in this one the woman was wearing a spaghetti strapped red dress, showing off her deeply tanned skin and an, in Brooke’s opinion, weirdly specific chest tattoo of a hairless cat atop a red rose. The bio beneath the pictures read:

V 23/F/New York City

no face pics because i gotta stay lowkey. promise i’m not gonna kill you or anything like that, just lookin for a cute girl i can take out and trEat right.

Brooke rolled her eyes at the innuendo and let out a small huff of a laugh. The girl obviously had some sort of sense of humour, which she supposed was important. And it was pretty impressive that someone so young was in a position where they could support someone else financially.

The green dot was still displayed next to V’s username. She was still online. Brooke took a deep breath and clicked the chat icon at the bottom of the screen, typing out a quick, hopefully flirty-but-without-coming-on-too-strong, message.

BLH: I hate to break it to you, but saying ‘I’m not gonna kill you’ sounds exactly like what someone who would kill me would say ;)

Brooke quickly exited out of the app and opened up Instagram to check and see if Katya or her wife had added any new photos of their cats or dog. Before she could even begin typing her sister’s name into the search bar, her phone dinged, letting her know that V had responded.

V: hate to break it to you babe but saying youre looking for a partner sounds like youre tryna open up a lawyers office

Brooke swore under her breathe. She knew she sounded too robotic.

BLH: Oh god, I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything

V: lol relax mami, youre cute with all your worrying

She bit down on her lower lip, half in frustration and half trying to suppress a smile. V was already teasing her about her worrying, and they hadn’t even met yet.

BLH: Aren’t you more of the mommy in this situation though ;)

V: i mean i usually prefer daddy ;)

Brooke felt a quick rush of heat to her center at the word “daddy”. She closed her eyes trying to stave away memories of various nights in the alleyways behind various bars with various women.

BLH: I think I can make that work ;)

V: listen, not to be too upfront but youre gorgeous and id love to take you out sometime if youd want?

V: we could meet and figure out an allowance or something if thats what you want! ive done this once before and it was a really good experience for both of us…i gave her around $8000 a month for rent and stuff but we could figure out something specially for you if you need somethin different

Brooke could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop when she read the word “month”. She’d never been with one single person for more than three nights, much less on a month to month basis. But V seemed nice at least. And if not nice, she was at least experienced at this kind of arrangement, and was apparently quite generous to boot. Eight thousand dollars a month would cover her rent and utilities almost four times over. Eight thousand dollars a month would mean that she wouldn’t have to worry about getting her card declined at brunch. Eight thousand dollars a month meant that she wouldn’t have to pick up every possible shift at the studio, and could spend more time going to auditions.

Eight thousand dollars a month meant that she was definitely not turning V down right off the bat.

BLH: I’d love that. Name the time and place, I’m free when you are.

BLH: Daddy ;)

Brooke Lynn Hayhoe doesn’t do relationships — but for eight thousand dollars a month, she was willing to fake it.

[smolbiotic]

Flowers and Thorns

There was something sweetly comforting about the strange bouquet of booze, sweat, and medi-gel that was drowned out by waves of cheap perfume in Red Nova, one of the Citadel’s seedier clubs. It was odd, but focusing on the scent was a quirk that helped Molly Thorne drown out the jarring pulse of club music rattling her ear drums. Somehow, the repulsive smell helped her keep her wits about her - perhaps similar to monks who denied themselves earthly pleasures and remained cold to keep their minds sharp? Or perhaps she just had a few screws loose, but regardless that was the only trick that worked to let her study while she glared at the scrolling text on her omni-tool in between dances.

She was leaning back against the sticky roundbar that surrounded the dancers’ stage in her uniform (if you could call a thin, white suit that left her best “assets” exposed a uniform), cold-shouldering every advance from every damn patron in the joint because she had work to do, damn it. Ignoring the chill that followed after the sheen of sweat she had worked up during her last set (a particularly lengthy and challenging aerial silk set), Molly knitted her brows and whispered her notes to herself as she combed through them.

“Hey, uh, I just wanted to tell you that your dancing...”

Scrunching up her face, the bumbling words fell on deaf ears, their speaker no more than static in the background of her thoughts. She had an exam in the morning, one she had been studying for during every free moment she had in the past month, one that she still felt unprepared for. One that, if she failed, meant she might be stuck dancing for the rest of her life.

“Um, hello?”

It was getting a lot harder to ignore this one. Molly scrunched her face up in concentration, reading a complex string of medical notes aloud to make her point. Nothing like hanar medical procedures to cool off a hot-blooded man.

“Ah, sorry, seems important. I just wanted to tell you I bought you a drink, so I’ll just leave it-“

She was paying enough attention now to pick up on the flanging vocals, though she still refused to look up. It wasn’t often a turian tried making moves on her, but it wasn’t the first time, either.

“I don’t drink,” she said finally, her tone clipped and dripping with contempt as her pale grey eyes squinted at her notes, “If you want a private dance book it through Valla, if you just want to do me a kindness then leave me alone to study and give me a big tip when I’m on stage. And that means credits, it’s not innuendo.”

She looked up, delivering her final vicious blow with a pointed glare, or at least intending to. Instead she found herself blinking up at the tallest turian she had ever seen. And that was saying something. Factor in her whopping 5’ height and all of a sudden her confidence and shitty attitude vanished in a blink. Best watch her step. She imagined this one, despite his boy next door tone, could snap her in half as easily as he could twitch his mandibles.

The guy was ridiculously tall and broad-shouldered to boot. He was stark white from toe to long, elegant fringe, his ice-blue eyes the only colour to be found on him aside from his worn old clothes: a blue shirt and black pants. He cut an impressive figure, an intimidating one until you looked closely enough to pick up on the social cues. Her confidence began to creep back as she took more of him in. Tall and undoubtedly strong as he may be, he held himself like an awkward teen, and he looked stricken at the way she had talked to him. Boy next door indeed. The feisty little dancer had no idea a turian could ever fit that sort of trope. She sighed.

“Look, it was sweet of you, but I don’t have time or energy to spare on social calls,” Molly pinched the bridge of her nose to stem the growing headache between her eyes, “I need to study, then I need to make money, and then I need to go home. I don’t need drinks. I can’t afford drinks.

Er, sorry,” she added for posterity, offering him an apologetic smile before Valla, the stern-faced asari in charge of the girls who danced in Red Nova, caught her eye and jerked her chin towards the poles installed on the elevated stage contained within the roundbar. Time to get dancing again. Once more tonight, then just three months to go until she could hang up her assless suit and start her internship at Huerta Memorial. She just had to pass her exams.

-

Molly’s spirits were sky-high. Sleep-deprived as she had been, she’d somehow managed to ace her exam. Whatever pep that added to her step shone through in her dancing, too, because her tips were stacking up ever since. It had been a pretty lucrative week for her, and now to top it all off she had been booked for a private dance, one that had been paid for (tip included) in advance, and whoever booked her was a no-show. So she perched, legs crossed, atop one of the small tables and scrolled through her class notes, humming cheerfully as she did. Sure, her next dance was just ten minutes away, but she had been blessed with a rare gift: an extra fifteen minutes completely paid-for and completely free to spend as she pleased.

When she finally swiped away the screen containing her notes, she ran her fingers through her wild, waist-length auburn waves in a vain attempt to tame them before something caught her eye. An impossibly tall, snowy-white something with a long, sleek fringe.

Ah, shit.

He was looking her way sheepishly, if the set of his shoulders could be trusted, then waved when she made eye contact.

Please don’t come over.

He started heading her way and she felt her stomach sink, but he wound up changing course and sat at the roundbar instead. He didn’t look her way again.

Good, she thought to herself, refusing to acknowledge the little twinge of curiosity in her gut that demanded to know what had stifled his interest so quickly, stay there.  

“Odd bird, that one.”

Molly nearly jumped out of her skin. The rough, feminine voice was Valla’s, but Valla was on the opposite side of the roundbar just seconds ago. How the hell did she move so quickly?

“Shit, Valla,” the small woman hissed, “A little warning, please. And yeah, he’s a weirdo. Probably has some weird kink that makes it hard to connect to people. I can’t imagine why he’d be so ridiculously awkward otherwise,considering his looks. I’m no xenophile, but I know what works for turian women.”

“Uh-huh,” Valla shrugged her large, muscled arms, “That or he was beat as a kid, but I think most turians are. And you’re the lucky gal that caught his eye. I’ve been keeping close watch - he stares at you. A lot.”

“Oh joy,” the dancer groaned, “I’m thrilled.”

Valla laughed a big, booming laugh and slapped Molly on the back.

“I won’t let him hurt a hair on your pretty little head if he gets too weird, my little dancing flower,” the asari didn’t seem terribly worried that this would happen, however, and she had a bit of a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “But maybe thank him for paying you to study, because he certainly didn’t seem to care about watching you dance to get his money’s worth. You play your cards right with a fool like that and you’ll get paid to study whenever he comes sniffing around. We love you here and all, but we don’t want you to drop out of school and get stuck here.”

And just like that, the old asari was slapping body glitter on Molly’s chest and telling her to loosen up for her next dance even while the revelation of who had made her night shook her to her very core. Grumbling, the small woman packed away what Valla had to her so she could deal with it later, then cast her grey-eyed gaze around to peer through the din. She knew her next appointment - a weekly dance for the most unexpectedly charming elcor she had ever encountered. Thelruun booked her regularly, and she actually enjoyed his patronage. Quiet, respectful, never tried to put his hands on her, and a huge tipper. Whatever it was he saw in her, whether it had to do with her personally or he just had some strange human fetish, she didn’t care. He was a great customer for someone in her current line of work.

When she finally spotted him, she flashed him a bright smile and hopped up onto the table properly. Properly for a woman who made her bank by shaking her ass, anyways: on her knees and with her legs spread wide.

“Hey Thelruun!” she called to him as he neared, leaning her weight back to sit on her ankles,  “It’s been an age and a day, hasn’t it?”

“With amusement: it has only been one week, Molly,” his voice might have been low and lifeless, but he had this brilliant, playful gleam in his eyes that always lifted Molly’s mood.

“A week without you is always an age and a day in my books, darling,” she purred, reaching a hand out to lightly stroke his cheek as he winked at her. Ah, Thelruun. The sweetest old perv on the Citadel.

Doing her very best to avoid glancing at the towering, pale figure leaning over a drink at the roundbar, Molly picked up her casual conversation with her favourite bright-eyed elcor while she ground her hips and danced on the tabletop for him. It still struck her as a little absurd, asking him about his editorial work for a major news outlet while she flipped her hair and squeezed her tits together, bouncing to the music all the while. But hey, he liked it enough to come back every week and he was actually a great conversationalist.

“Proudly: it is good to hear you are succeeding with your studies. Not many could work here and remain a model student.”

“Xenomedicine is why I left my home and family on earth to come here, Thelruun,” she replied, a cheerful fire in her eyes when the conversation switched gears to address her personal goals, “and my scholarships only cover my tuition. It was this or give up my dream, and I am no quitter.”

He sipped his drink and nodded his agreement, “With admiration: the Citadel is lucky to have you. Lustily: beautiful, hard-working and brilliant. The ideal woman.”

“Married to her work, though,” she purred her retort playfully, winking at him, “Hardly ideal. But thanks, Thelruun. It’s high praise coming from you.”

“Sincerely: I will miss you when you leave here, Molly. Your dancing and your conversation.”

There was a strict no touching rule for all of Valla’s girls, but that rule could be broken if they were the ones who initiated. Smiling tenderly, Molly stopped dancing and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on Thelruun’s cheek. She’d miss him, too.

From across the bar, piercing blue eyes met hers briefly as she slid from the table to see Thelruun off. There was something inscrutable there. Jealousy she thought at first, but it wasn’t that. Concern, perhaps? But there was an intensity there that just wasn’t lining up. The turian broke eye contact almost immediately, but what she had seen had sent a shiver through her. Somehow, she didn’t think that look was meant for her, but then what was it about?

-

“Shit.”

Molly’s good luck streak had run out. She and two of the asari girls were changing into the scandalous cloth they called a uniform, each in various stages of undress, when Valla stormed into the room cursing. Their manager never stormed into their changing room cursing, not unless something was seriously wrong. Leore, the new girl, nearly jumped out of her suit. She’d never seen Valla like this before.

“What is it?” Molly asked, a lump forming in her throat as she hauled a band of fabric up over her ample chest. She had a feeling she knew what was coming, and both herself and Dineen, the most senior dancer of the three, hurried into their clothes so they could help Leore with hers. The slim, purple-hued asari girl whispered a trembling thank-you to them.

“Briggs.”

Silence stretched out between all of them with that one word from Valla. Molly and Dineen both knew what that meant: the owner of Red Nova was pissed about something and he was on a warpath. Briggs, who turned criminal after his dishonourable discharge from the alliance for excessive violence towards his unit and a general lack of mental stability when he didn’t get his way. He was wild and bitter, and still insisted he be called Lieutenant or LT for short, unable to let go of his rank as Second Lieutenant in the Alliance Marines.

The dancers were lucky enough that they rarely had to deal with him (with their manager being the only exception to that rule), but unlucky enough that only one thing calmed him down when he was pissed, and that one thing usually meant one of the girls was going home early with bruises and no pay. If she was lucky, that was all that would happen. Every now and again the twisted son of a bitch got a girl to dance for him to try to soothe his foul mood, which worked until his mommy issues flared. That’s when the ugly, violent side of him really showed itself. A handful of times, before Molly ever worked at Nova, Briggs went too far and added another skeleton to his closet.

“Who’s he asking for?”

Dineen was the first to break the silence. She was holding Leore’s skinny shoulders protectively, a determined set to her jaw. Molly knew that look: D fully intended on volunteering herself to dance for LT, but Molly wouldn’t allow it. Not again. The protective senior had volunteered herself last time, and who had to set her bones for her because she couldn’t go to a proper hospital and risk them asking questions after Briggs blew up at her? Molly did. Never again.

“I’ll go.”

All three asari whipped around to face Molly. Leore was shocked, D was livid, and Valla just looked completely deflated while she anxiously fussed with the hem of her sleeveless black top. It was her mission in life to look out for her girls, so watching them argue over who would take a beating next was the last thing she wanted to be doing. She just hadn’t been able to calm the “Lieutenant” down, though, nor had she discouraged him from plucking away one of Nova’s dancers.

“Like hell you are,” Dineen finally spat out when she got a hold of her anger, “I can take whatever LT has pent up. And what will you do if he fucks you up? What if he smashes your hands? You want to be a surgeon, you need your hands.” Molly lifted her chin to the challenge, not backing down. Her short stature took away from the visual but she didn’t care, nor did she falter: D wasn’t going to win this argument. “No,” she said firmly, “You’re always taking his shit, D. I can’t let you do it again. Besides, I have a trick up my sleeve.” Valla rubbed her speckled crest uncomfortably as Molly looked in her direction, triggering Dineen to look over as well, a question lingering on her scowling blue lips. The small human had told Valla (and only Valla) when she was hired to dance at Nova that she was, in fact, a biotic. Not a strong one - she was no asari commando and couldn’t put up much of a fight - but a biotic nonetheless. Briggs didn’t know that, and she could slap him with a stasis and run for it if he tried to pull anything too severe. For someone like Dineen, he knew to take precautions. Her biotics were impressive enough that he’d have his thugs on guard, even. The weary old manager finally relented and waved at Molly to head on out, much to Dineen’s frustration. Still, Valla knew exactly what the smaller human had meant by her “trick,” and she knew that meant she stood the best chance of escaping if things went too far.

In the mirror, Molly did one last check for her make-up, artfully tousled her hair, then smacked her cheeks until her smile and her “flush” looked natural before Valla led her out of the changing room and towards the LT’s office. Once there was enough of a distance between them and the other girls, the little dancer looked expectantly at her boss for some answers. Valla didn’t miss a beat. “Arms deal went south,” she supplied when they were safely in the lift that would take them to the second floor. Her expression was grim, “C-Sec knew, which means he might have a mole. Problem is, the only guys he had on this one have been around LT as long as LT has been a criminal on the Citadel. They left the Alliance to follow him. Implications are bad: either one of his most trusted guys is a traitor or C-Sec has gotten really good.” Molly swallowed the lump in her throat and tried not to doubt her decision. She couldn’t let D get herself brutalized again. She had to do this. Right? Fuck. I’m supposed to think first in this shithole. The two women were standing outside Briggs’ door, Valla with a protective hand on the small of Molly’s back. With a pressurized hiss, the doors slid open to reveal Briggs pacing between two massive, jarhead-biotics-turned-thugs, licking his lips while he talked to himself. He stopped mid-step to size up his bar manager’s delivery. “The Earth girl?” he growled at Valla, watery hazel eyes raking over Molly. She offered him an empty smile, unwavering despite the violent urge to shudder. “You never bring me the Earth girl,” the LT was stomping towards Molly while he grumbled, glaring at her, “What a treat.” He didn’t sound like he was pleased with his treat. Molly didn’t so much as flinch when he came and towered over her, which made him grin. It was a predatory grin, one made all the more intimidating by the scars that peppered his short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. “Fearless little tart,” he hissed approvingly, licking his lips again while he ran the back of a finger up her arm, making her skin crawl and her eyes burn with rebellion, “Great tits on you, too.” Thankfully he didn’t touch those. Molly could feel Valla trembling at her side, as enraged as the dancer herself felt, but neither woman dared to say anything. They were no match for the LT and his ex-marine buddies, who didn’t show any signs of leaving. Oh, fuck. She couldn’t take on all three of them with her meagre biotics. Valla seemed to sense that too, judging by the look the two women exchanged. The asari looked terrified. “Leave us,” Briggs barked at Valla, who left after a moment’s hesitation. His men followed his unspoken command when he glanced back at them, lowering assault rifles before leaning back against the wall behind the LT’s messy desk. It was too much to hope they’d be leaving too, it seemed. Molly watched them for a moment, the sight of their guns making her breath catch, then turned to face Briggs again. “They tell me you’re from Canada,” the former Lieutenant stated gruffly, lifting Molly’s chin with a meaty finger to inspect her, “Came all the way from some backwater community on the East Coast to study xenomedicine.” “That’s right,” her tone was a little more guarded and clipped than she intended. Shit. LT just laughed and grabbed a fistful of hair, his violent glare drilling holes through her neck as he pulled her head back roughly to expose it. The fluttering anxiety in her heart quickly turned to thumping. What the hell made her think she could take this guy, even for a moment? And on top of it his meathead buddies were locked in with them. “Valla likes you. Tries to protect you. The others do, too. They think you’re too good for our Red Nova.” She couldn’t answer. He was dragging her towards his desk by her hair, her heart now thundering as she hailed small, ineffective fists against his grasp. Perhaps not the smartest of moves, but at least he didn’t start beating her immediately; he just laughed a rough, twisted laugh and kept dragging. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “But if you were really too good for us, you’d be able to pay for school without shaking those nice tits of yours on my stage. You’re just like the other sluts who dance here.” The thugs that LT called friends chuckled from where they watched the scene unfold. Molly felt her heart racing at record-breaking speeds for her and took a breath to steady herself. Or attempt to steady herself, anyways. She still felt dizzy and panicked. LT gets off on scaring women, she thought to herself, which means I have to hold my head high. Just not too high, because he also loved taking proud women down a peg. A real charmer, that one. “You’re right,” she agreed, “So why don’t I just do for you what I do best?” LT barked out another sick laugh and gestured at his desk, which Molly took as a sign to get up and start grinding. So that was what she did, and to her surprise LT actually plucked a datapad out of one of the drawers and started reading it intently. Huh. Peculiar, but it was a mercy. If his focus was off of her, it helped her feel a little better about her situation. Now if only the square-jawed thug to the right of the former Lieutenant would stop leering at her, she might even feel hopeful about her situation. While she danced, heart pounding, she took in her surroundings as best she could while LT was distracted. It was an empty office with a couple of couches in front of a wide two-way mirror that overlooked the bar to the left of the door. Opposite the entrance was his desk. The room was clean to the point of feeling clinical, which was unexpected. As patrons began to fill the bar, with Leore and another of the human girls dancing on the poles in the raised stage that the roundbar surrounded, a familiar sight caught Molly’s eyes. That turian-boy-next-door creep was looking around the joint, and she wondered if he was trying to find her. Hell, she’d take his company over LT’s right now in a heartbeat. For the briefest moment, his strangely intense gaze passed over the two-way mirror, and the auburn-haired dancer thought for a moment that he might have been looking straight at her, but that was impossible. Maybe he was just checking himself out from afar with that look on his face? Puzzling, but she didn’t have the time to unravel his peculiar behaviour. “Can’t be either one of you,” LT’s rough baritone snapped Molly out of her thoughts and her stiletto heel skidded on his desk. The look he gave her almost sent her biotics crackling over her skin thanks to an involuntary fight-or-flight response, “You’re both stupidly loyal, and just plain stupid. Plus you know full well I can and would skin you alive if you turned traitor. Valla hates my guts, but she’d never betray me. I own her and she knows it.” That much Molly knew was true. Valla had debts to pay and a sick daughter, and Briggs paid her well. She wouldn’t risk that, no matter how much she had grown to hate him since he showed her his true colours. LT’s eyes were trained on Molly again, though he was still talking to his thugs. “One of the whores, you think?” he asked without looking away, “Maybe this one - C-Sec might help with her school fees, but nah. They don’t have the budget for that shit. There’s a reason she’s wiggling her cunt around on stage. Maybe the flighty new girl? She might have some kind of deal, and it’d explain her nerves and her shitty tips.” “Those nerves,” Molly cut in, cursing herself while she did, “Are because she knows your reputation.” Why the hell had she opened her mouth? Why the hell couldn’t she hold her fucking tongue? There was no way Briggs actually thought Leore was a threat, so why did she have to leap to the girl’s defence? Why did her outrage and her sense of righteousness have to cut in while she was at the mercy of a psychopathic ex-marine and the idiots who would follow him into the bowels of hell? The armed idiots with biotic implants to boot. A tense silence filled the room.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Get down.” Briggs’ command was brief, and Molly knew that she had gotten too proud. It appeared as though she was about to be brought down a peg. Molly complied limply, her shoulders sagging despite the fire burning in her eyes. The owner of Red Nova stood and loomed over her, grabbing her by her neck. She wheezed and started clawing at his hands, fake nails popping off. “Listen here, you fucking whore,” the watery-eyed monster snarled, bringing his face so close to hers that she could feel his sour breath licking her skin, “You’ll watch your tongue around me or I’ll turn the bones in those little hands of yours to dust.” He was squeezing her neck so hard she could practically feel the bruises blooming there. Tears sprung to her eyes and spilled over while she struggled in his grasp, her whole body trembling. Involuntarily, her biotics flashed. He grinned. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, eyes flashing dangerously as he tightened his grip. Molly’s vision blurred dramatically, “Instead you get back to work and you do your dear old Lieutenant a favour. You watch, you listen, and you tell me if one of those sluts you dance with is acting suspiciously. I can ruin your education and career without breaking a sweat, and I will if you piss me off again.” Sneering, he mashed his mouth into Molly’s with a rough, biting kiss that drew blood, then hauled her by the neck across his office and stopped to let the doors hiss open once more. He threw her out and smeared her blood across his mouth with the back of his hand while he grinned down at her before delivering a final, brutal kick to her ribs. There was a horrible cracking sound when his steel toe connected with her chest and she couldn’t help crying out. Smart that he kicked her where the fabric of her dancers’ suit would cover any mark. “Don’t forget that I own you, whore.” The doors slid closed and Molly sat there, sprawled and bleeding from her lip, her neck and ribs aching with a pain unlike any she had ever felt before. Briggs had managed to bite a large split into her bottom lip that no amount of medi-gel could prevent from scarring. And yet that was nothing compared to the thundering in her heart, the black ball of dread that had sunk into her gut and caused her to tremble violently all over. She flinched at the sound of heavy boots approaching her, but calmed a little when she recognized the short, brisk stride. Valla. No doubt she had been lingering as close as she dared and rushed over as soon as she heard LT had retreated back inside. “Molly!” The wide-shouldered, motherly asari rushed to her girl’s side, crouching down to gently touch her fingers to her neck, eyes filled with tears. “Grab my shoulders, I’ll help you up. We need to get you cleaned up, little flower,” she said softly as she helped her dancer to her unsteady feet, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop this.” Molly shook her head, or just barely anyhow. Her neck was too sore to move much. “I was lucky,” she croaked, “He couldn’t focus on beating me ‘cause he’s paranoid. Can’t think and hit at the same time, that one.”

Her weak attempt at humour didn’t land. “Wouldn’t call your current state lucky. You’re off the clock tonight.” “You know I can’t afford that.” Valla frowned, but she didn’t argue. She knew that Molly needed the wage and the tips desperately. Even living in the lower wards of the Citadel was ludicrously expensive for a girl living on her own, and she was still in school, for now. A miserable silence spread between the two women as Valla led her dancer into her office, where she sat her down and dabbed the blood off of her skin and fetched her a new uniform. She soaked Molly’s lip with medi-gel, then massaged some gently into her neck and ribs to help with the gruesome bruises. It didn’t do much about the colour or the break, but the swelling went down considerably and after a hot cup of tea her voice was almost normal again as well. After Molly was treated, Valla helped her with her hair and makeup, doing her best to hide the bruising on her neck, then begrudgingly sent her out into the club to touch base with Dineen. The senior dancer had been put in charge of the floor so the manager could stay behind, just in case things took a turn for the worse. D took one look at the was Molly was carrying herself and scowled. No amount of makeup could hide the pain she was so clearly in. “How bad?” Molly shrugged, doing her best to look casual despite the way her shoulders were shaking, “A split lip, cracked rib or two and a bruised neck,” she answered, still a little hoarse, “Medi-gel helped the swelling and makeup covered the bruises.” “Fuck him. At least he didn’t hurt your hands or anything.” This time, Molly thought bitterly, but she simply nodded. “We’re putting you on the bar,” the scantily-clad asari said, raising a hand to stop her before she could argue, “You can’t dance with cracked ribs, Moll, but you’ve got a private dance first. Your turian fanboy is waiting for you at that table, but you can say no. Working the bar means less tips, so I figured I’d leave the decision to you. I wanted to tell him to stuff it, though, the way he lurks around and looks at you.” As if her evening couldn’t get worse. Bar tips instead of dancing tips, and she was forced between choosing credits she desperately needed and the company of that bumbling fool of a turian? The one with the intense looks that got under her skin? Shoulders sagging in defeat, she made her way through the crowd to him, shooting a glare at a volus who grabbed her ass along the way. She felt like her temper was about to explode. When she got to her “fanboy’s” table she made to step up there, but he held out a hand and stopped her. She got an eyeful of long, deadly talons and winced. She was currently far too aware of how much damage those things could do. The turian looked from her to his talons, then snatched his hand back and hid it under the table with the other one when he realized she was afraid of him. Shit, was she really that easy to read? At least he didn’t seem inclined to add to her beating. “Am I dancing or not?” Her voice was still hoarse. He noticed and narrowed his ice-blue gaze on her, sending a chill through her. It almost looked like he knew exactly what had happened, because his gaze danced from her neck, to her lip and down to her ribs. Just what kind of person was lingering under his bumbling exterior? Or was that all just an act? Was he picking up on her injuries because of the way she moved and talked, or because he recognized just how caked-on her makeup was tonight? How much had he watched her to pick up on all of this so easily, even with the loud music and the flashing lights in Nova? “Just sit. Study, if you want,” he answered, a little uncomfortable when he realized he was staring, “Just...maybe indulge a few questions, first?” “We’re not a dating service.” “I know,” his flanging tone was defensive, and something shifted in his subvocals, but for the life of her she was deaf to the meaning behind that. “And I don’t fulfill sexual fantasies. I just inspire them for credits.” Her arms were folded, her expression dark as she stared up at the two-way mirror, wondering if Briggs was still in there with her blood smeared over his filthy, sour mouth. She felt her eyes stinging and her patience turning threadbare. How was she going to make it through a night behind the bar, dealing with shitty drunk assholes? “I was just going to ask how your exam went, Molly.”

She snapped her gaze back to him when he said her name. It wasn’t like it was a secret - anyone who booked a dancer could learn her name, but...well, she just didn’t like it. He made her feel ill-at-ease, or maybe that was just the throbbing pain in her throat and her ribs made her mistrustful of everything in the moment. At least his tone was gentle, but that almost felt like a trap. “I aced it,” she spat back at him, “Of course I did. Why do you care? What’s your angle here?” “I...want to get to know you?” he answered, brow plates sinking a little as he looked down. He sounded sincere enough, but there was something else. A trace of guilt? He didn’t like how he avoided her eyes, “Is that so wrong?” “Depends on why,” she replied quickly, frowning, “What, you see a small, helpless girl trying to dance herself into a better future and you want to swoop in like some white knight, saving her from her awful job by booking a table and not showing up or just having a conversation? Is it a hero complex?” His mandibles twitched but he said nothing, instead his jaw went a little slack and he was left speechless, “Or are you trying to lower my defences so you can charm me and get a chance to fuck your first human? Or wait, is it that because I shake my ass for credits you think I’m going to fulfill all of your weird sexual fantasies that you can’t share with polite company?” With his type, it was always one of those. The false niceties, the drive to make her feel protected and looked out for. All of that told her he was either some pathetic hero wannabe or he was an expert manipulator. She didn’t trust him and she did not want to hide that fact, especially the more she convinced herself she sensed guilt in his subtle facial expressions and the note humming in his subvocals. “None of those,” there was no mistaking the frustration in his dual-toned voice, or the way his mandible stayed flared open, revealing rows of sharp teeth. He immediately regretted his hot-tempered display, then gripped his chin tiredly, relaxing his expression, “When I first tried talking to you it was after that...hanging cloth dancing you had done. Just a few short songs but I’d never seen anything like it before. I wanted to ask you about it, but I just pissed you off. Then I didn’t know how to approach you because you seemed to think I just wanted something something rotten from you. I don’t...I don’t have a lot of experience talking to humans. You don’t pick up on our vocal cues.”

He shrugged, avoiding Molly’s burning gaze, and continued, “So I tried to make peace but apparently kind gestures mean something different to you. Guess I can’t blame you, working here.” Molly prickled at that last comment, but she was too tired and raw to be proud. Maybe she had misread the guy. Hell, they all could have considering there were no turians on staff to correct them. Briggs was from a military family with a history that ran back to First Contact so he refused to hire turians, though he had no problems taking their credits. Molly felt her fury cave and exhaustion take over, slumping forward to lean on the table with her elbows and place her head in her hands. Her body hurt, and while she still sensed this guy was holding something back, she could at least recognize that with the way she’d be acting she could have misread him. “I’d...never been to a place like this until that night,” he continued, “Strict military upbringing. Combat is all I’ve known, as my family never saw art or expression as anything more than a waste of practical talent. I know this isn’t exactly a proper dance hall, but that hanging cloth thing you did...it was beautiful, really. I guess seeing it made me realize that art for the sake of art has its place too. I wanted to learn more about it...and about you, yeah. When you dance like that it’s different from everything else you do here. You’re skilled, yeah, but you really care when you’re up there. Y’know?” Prickling again, the small dancer finally really looked at this strange turian. He was talking like a regular guy, not as bumbling and shy as before, though he was pretty uncomfortable talking about the silks. Maybe he just wasn’t sure how to talk about anything that wasn’t strictly military, especially with a human woman who...well, who might get the wrong idea. One who had already misread his intentions, even. And he was right in how he read her. Molly loved the silks, she was the reason they even had them here in the first place. She had been in an acrobatics school as a kid through her teenage years and always loved dancing in the air like that. It was the only time she could really let go of her worries and just focus on moving, on losing herself in a song and enjoying the moment. It was especially freeing in her current life situation. Shit. She was really starting to think she had misjudged this guy. There was a small voice sounding in her that didn’t want to trust him, that wanted to accuse him of saying those things because he had some other motive, something that laced him with guilt and made her suspect he was hiding something. Still...something about him was compelling her to give him a chance. For now.

“Molly Thorne,” she said, her tone apologetic as she held out her hand for him to shake. He stared at it for a moment before he realized what was happening, and she cursed herself for just assuming a turian would immediately recognize a human handshake. Still, he reached out and returned it soon enough, his grip surprisingly gentle despite how rough his hands were. He was very aware of his talons and the way she flinched when he reached forward, and she was grateful for how slow he was moving. He was giving her a chance to pull away. “Avinthus Flos,” he returned cheerfully enough despite the knowing look that was cutting through her and the cautious way she moved. “Well, Vinth,” Molly continued when she finally pulled her hand back, “I don’t have much time left. I’m working the bar all night tonight, so why not follow me over there and give me a chance to properly get to know you?” The way he raised his brow plates at her made her stomach twist a little. He probably deduced that she was inviting him to the bar to chat with her so his presence would deter the other patrons from lingering around her too much, but he nodded anyways. Whether it was because he genuinely wanted to talk to her or he really did have a hero complex, she didn’t know, but that was fine. After all, it couldn’t hurt, right? Next chapter.

[asknightqueendany]

Why is everyone so shook that Sansa relied on Baelish for so long? Dany took 7 seasons to realize that the prophecy from that witch was wrong and she took 7 seasons to admit that she was raped by Drogo. Baelish saved sansa’s life 2 times when he got her out of kings landing and when he saved her from Lysa. He got inside her head again in s7 and she fell for it but she realized and she started playing him (Sophie conformed this) and she WON.

Arya was in the wrong in s7, bc she heard Sansa screaming in s1 and in s6 when she watched that play she saw “sansa” faint on stage and then saw her clothes being ripped of by Tyrion, Arya knew that sansa wasn’t living her best life in KL so why’d she act like that in s7? Sansa never said anything mean to Arya in s7 until Arya started accusing her of shit. Arya never once questioned why Baelish had a letter Sansa had written from years ago with him. She never thought it might be a setup. Contd..Part 2- Arya fell for baelish’s plot just as much Sansa did. Also Arya was much more secretive abt her past than Sansa was as she explained why she wrote the letter and etc. so if anyone had any reason to be doubtful it was Sansa. Sansa was confused by arya’s Bag of faces and Arya was not helping by being so suspicious           

Combining these two because they’re about the same thing essentially.

1) Dany admitted back in S3 what she was to Drogo. “People learn to love their chains.” She was a slave to him and she fell in love with him out of necessity. Book!Dany has similar thoughts on the matter, continuing to remind the audience that she was, in fact, property, and not a proper wife: “Slavery is not the same as rain,” she insisted. “I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No man wants to be owned.” “The exile had offered her brother his sword the night Dany had been sold to Khal Drogo.” “Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I … my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?”

Something people forget about Daenerys because they likely skim over her chapters and scenes is that she is very self-aware and aware of the world as it is and her place in it. She knew exactly what she was and she tells the audience she was afraid. It didn’t take her seven seasons to figure that out.

2) Sophie’s version of S7 and the actual scripts (and Isaac Hemstead Wright) paint a very different version of events. Sophie’s of the opinion that she learns the truth sooner and begins to play Baelish. She says in THIS video that she sees through Baelish’s game “Sometimes, I play a little game” and she and Arya then devise a plan to take him down.

But that is in direct contrast to what IHW says and what the scripts say. IHW says in THIS Variety interview that, “We actually did a scene that clearly got cut, a short scene with Sansa where she knocks on Bran’s door and says, “I need your help,” or something along those lines. So basically, as far as I know, the story was that it suddenly occurred to Sansa that she had a huge CCTV department at her discretion and it might be a good idea to check with him first before she guts her own sister. So she goes to Bran, and Bran tells her everything she needs to know, and she’s like, “Oh, s—.”

And the script of 7x07:

So in the script, Sansa is clearly thinking about turning against Jon and also that she believes Baelish about Arya wanting to kill her. I think Sophie’s video about Sansa is a bit skewed and is her own headcanon of events because it’s clearly contradicted twice.

3) The Arya-Sansa issue. I will never stop defending Arya for the events of S7 because no matter which way you slice it, Sansa was in a position of a lot of power (acting ruler of the North) when Arya wasn’t in any kind of position of power. And she made the most foolish decision ever by ONLY listening to Baelish’s council and no one else. There is literally no good reason Sansa shouldn’t have confided in Brienne about the Arya scenario unless she legitimately was planning on killing Arya before Arya had a chance to kill her - which is what the S7 script and IHW’s interview clearly show Sansa almost did.

4) Along with Sansa being to blame for her own actions by not seeking council from anyone but Baelish - the person who would have only whispered in her ear things she wanted to hear while someone like Brienne would have given Sansa more tough love and had her face issues and questions that would be uncomfortable to Sansa (as she did in S6 when asking her why she didn’t trust Jon with the info about Baelish to which Sansa never replies), on the flip side, Arya’s side, Sansa looks INCREDIBLY guilty of something - namely, trying to take the North from Jon and seize power for herself (which again, the script suggests Sansa almost did, so Arya was RIGHT).

I pointed out in THIS ask what things were like from Arya’s POV. I won’t repeat myself entirely, you can read it at your leisure, but I will mention the highlights:

a) Arya sees Wolkan give the scroll to Baelish and Baelish says, “Lady Stark thanks you for your service,” making it seem as if Sansa was the one who had Wolkan find the scroll, not Baelish.

b) Arya goes to Sansa immediately and does NOT plot or conspire behind her back. Whereas ALL Arya scenes - aside from her spying on Baelish - are with Sansa - MOST of the Sansa scenes are with Baelish. THAT’S fucking telling. As soon as Arya finds the scroll, she confronts her sister. She’s being incredibly straight forward. Sansa is not and Baelish is never far from her side.

c) Sansa expresses her sourness at the fact that she’s not queen: “You should be on your knees thanking me.” Not unlike this quote from the first book in the series, A Game of Thrones: “Go ahead, call me all the names you want," Sansa said airily. "You won't dare when I'm married to Joffrey. You'll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.” So in Arya’s mind, Sansa hasn’t changed, AT ALL. And for good reason. I’m still pissed at Sansa about this. Like, way to go, you withheld valuable information that, had your brother had before the battle, might have resulted in less of his men getting killed because he could have been able to plan better. And she takes credit for winning the whole battle when her actions resulted in deaths that could have been prevented. It’s not a cool look there Sansa.

d) Sansa sends Brienne away. Arya confirms with Brienne before they have their little “training session” - “You swore to serve both my mother’s daughters?” So Arya knows Brienne would, not take Arya’s side against Sansa, but would serve them equally, possibly help solve issues between them. And she gets sent away. Again, Arya is in NO position of power and Sansa is. Sansa sending away Brienne makes the power imbalance between them even worse. Arya’s got to be feeling threatened and for good reason! Sansa’s move of sending Brienne away is basically her telling Arya - you have no one on your side and as Sansa tells Arya in the bag of faces scene “I have hundreds of men here who are all loyal to me.” Arya doesn’t have that. She just has herself. Arya is the one in more danger here. Not Sansa.

5) Arya seeing the play so she should “know” what Sansa went through - actually, it’s the exact opposite so thanks for helping my argument...? The play from S6 portrays Ned Stark as a bumbling irrational power-seeker and portrays Joffrey and Cersei as VICTIMS! So when the same play also portrays her sister as a victim too...why would Arya believe that? She had the letter from Sansa saying the Lannisters were giving her “every comfort”. She would have no reason to believe that that wasn’t true and that the play would have made things up about Sansa to make her seem more innocent than she possibly was (even though Sansa’s role in the play was actually the only accurate thing about it).

And so far as Arya seeing Sansa the day of Ned’s death - yes she hears Sansa scream (who wouldn’t find watching their father beheaded traumatic?) but she doesn’t see Sansa faint because Yoren has her face pressed to him and blocks her view of everything. But, Arya knows Ned confessed to crimes he didn’t commit, knows Sansa spoke to Joffrey of their father, and knows from the letter that Sansa believed their father a traitor. Something the books highlight even more as Sansa never questions them all calling their father a traitor, she’s just concerned with getting to marry Joffrey and her family’s actions possibly ruining that for her.

So for Arya, it all adds up to Sansa being guilty. Sansa’s actions in S7 do not help matters. She’s the one acting suspicious and according to many sources, Arya has good reason to be suspicious of Sansa.

End. Of. Story.

[apricuscity]

Morely & Friends: The Eclipse Princess. (Part One)

The camera pans down from the night sky until a small house on a hill comes into focus.

Inside we see a young Benjamin (Taco Felon), and a younger Piper. Both are sitting in a blanket fort with their mother.

Mother: And what story do you want to hear tonight?

Benjamin: The one about the princess!

Piper: Ya! Pwincess!

Mother: You both like that one a lot huh? I swear I’ve read it dozens of times, who am I to refuse a request from my favorite audience though.

She opens a rather large story book with an elaborate looking cover.

The scene shifts to a vast castle, much larger than even the Nacho King’s.

The mother begins to narrate.

Mother: A long long time ago this land and all the lands around it were ruled by an evil queen. She was a beautiful woman on the outside but she was petty, and cruel. She demanded constant tributes from the people she ruled over. Leaving only the very rich who were loyal to her with anything at all.

Mother: The people worked tirelessly only to see the fruits of their labor taken by the queen’s guards.

Scenes flash of the queen, the people getting their goods taken, their houses burnt when they didn’t cooperate, people put in jail, banished, and even some implied to be executed.

A cloud of dark magic swirled around the sky above the castle.

Mother: The queen would send her armies to conquer any nation that dare resist her. Even those that simply wanted no part of it. She always needed more, more power, more gold, more everything.

Mother: The queen had one daughter. One she had created using her own dark powers. She never cared much for the child, her daughter was only to serve as a final method for her survival should she need it. She never really said how she would accomplish this. Perhaps over of fear that someone would stop her and put an end to her for good.

Scenes of the princess are shown. She was born from dark magic, during a lunar eclipse.

Mother: Luckily the princess was raised by the castle staff, including a few who secretly opposed her mother.

The camera pans out as we move forward in time to current day.

We see “Tostada” and “Enchilada” along with a man wearing a tattered cloak. They smash open a large stone door concealing a chamber. It’s clear they are currently somewhere hidden deep underground.

Cloaked Man: Is this what you two idiots hired me to help you find?

Tostada: Yeah! It’s right where the scroll said it would be!

Enchilada: Look! The crystal!

Both rush over to a floating crystal in the center of the chamber. The runes on the walls start to glow.

???: It took you bumbling fools long enough! Now shatter the crystal and release me!

Tostada and Enchilada shove each other trying to get a better view of the crystal before cowering.

Cloaked Man: Morons..

The cloaked man removes a pistol from it’s holster and fires it at the crustal several times. Finally a chip of the crystal flies off.

The entire crystal begins to crack before shattering. The chamber shakes as the runes on the walls stop glowing. What looks to be a seal underneath where the crystal was slowly fades away and the ground opens up. A figure is seen rising up.

The queen’s laugh is heard as the camera pans up to the sky. The opening credits roll.

MORELY & FRIENDS: THE ECLIPSE PRINCESS

We see a festival happening in the village. Morely, Bill, Piper, The Nacho King, and Queen Queso are all in attendance. Conspicuous by his absence is Taco Felon.

Announcer: And now for the moment you’ve been waiting for! You know em, you love em, give it up for the hottest, spiciest band in the land! SalsaSplosion!

A band takes the stage (Played by Sunsplosion!) and begins to play as the crowd goes wild.

Bill: What’s all this for again?

Nacho King: The summer celebration my boy! A Taco Land tradition!

Morely: Forgive me for saying so your majesty but this is the first time we’ve had this.

Nacho King: Well be that as it may, it’s a NEW tradition! 

Piper: Who cares what it’s for? The music is good and the band is pretty hot..

Bill: Well they are called SalsaSplosion, they are pretty spicy!

Morely: I don’t think that’s what she meant Bill..

Queen Queso: Piper dear, why isn’t Benjamin with us?

Piper: Oh you know him your majesty, he’s probably off scheming to get his hands on some ancient relic...

The scene briefly shows Benjamin passed out on a sofa, snoring.

Suddenly he’s awakened by the door literally getting kicked in. Benjamin springs up, pressing a button on his belt that changes his clothing into that of the Taco Felon.

Cloaked Man: Found you at last!

Taco Felon: If you wanted an autograph or a selfie, there’s much better ways to go about it! 

The Taco Felon dodges a few shots and rushes forward, landing a kick and sending the cloaked man stumbling backwards. Both stare at each other until the cloaked man tosses his cloak away.

Taco Felon: You...

We get another flashback. This time we see a group of former royal guards having decided to form a new team. Their entire purpose is to hunt down the Taco Felon who they believe is a former member of the royal guard himself but have no proof of it. 

Their leader Grant begins going over information.

Grant: So we’re all in agreement, it HAS to be Benjamin. That weasel embarrassed the rest of us with his outburst in front of Morely, and The King. He left the corps. Then he ends up dying in an inferno but shortly after that we start to see the appearance of this so called Taco Felon. No coincidence if you ask me.

Grant: Look at this footage. You can pause it here, those are moves we learned at the academy. You know them, I know them. If we bring Benjamin in we’ll erase the embarrassment he caused as well as keep Taco Land safe from another mask wearing freak.

The group cheers as they plan a way to trap the Taco Felon.

Later on we see the traps set up. Grant having predicted where the Taco Felon would strike. Unknown to him, Tostada and Enchilada are watching.

Taco Felon arrives at the vault to procure the Nacho King’s royal scepter which had just been refurbished. 

The Taco Felon sneaks in but is suddenly ambushed by Grant’s team. He fights against the odds as the team forces him towards one of the trapped areas, intending to capture him. 

Taco Felon avoids a strike from Grant but tumbles backwards, activating one of the traps.

Taco Felon: Ha! You think I didn’t expect to have to deal with vigilantes like you some day? One thing you’ll learn is the Taco Felon is prepared for...everythin...

Taco Felon is cut off as explosions are heard from outside the building. The vault begins to crumble. Chunks of the ceiling fall down, smashing into the equipment Grants team had set up. Causing some of it to spark and begin to explode.

Taco Felon looks around in a panic and shoots a grappling line up through a hole in the ceiling. He climbs up, motioning for the others to follow him but he barely gets to the opening when something below him causes a massive explosion, causing the entire building to collapse.

Taco Felon manages to crawl out of the rumble. He looks around for other survivors but sadly there aren’t away. Taco Felon limps away.

Sometime later a badly wounded Grant has somehow survived, pushing his way free of the rumble. He clenches his fist as the monitor on his wrist show no vital signs for the rest of his team. All there is now is revenge...revenge on the man that continues to cost him everything...the Taco Felon.

A voice calls out to him, one only he can hear

???: Find me, free me, I will grant you your vengeance..

We pan back to present day at the concert just SalsaSplosion begin to finish their last song. A cloud of dark magic begins to swirl above the town, causing the performance to stop. Everyone looks up only to see the evil queen descend and land on the stage.

Queen: You’re already gathered in one place so you can all kneel to me at once! I appreciate that kind of loyalty!

Bill: I dunno who you think you are lady but..

Queen: Oh there’s always one isn’t there?

The Queen holds up her staff and releases a blast towards bill. Luckily he’s pulled out of the way by Morely.

Morely and Bill prepare to join the royal guards to fight but a voice calls out for them to run.

The Queen raises her staff and lets out another burst of magic. The eyes of everyone hit by it turn green and they all kneel before the queen. Bill, Morely, and Piper barely manage to avoid the blast. Nacho King and Queen Queso are caught by it.

Bill, Morely, and Piper escape down an alleyway before noticing a cloaked woman motioning for them to hurry and follow her. She heads down one of the entrances to the sewer and the others follow.

Morely: Who was are you? Who was THAT?

The woman removes her cloak and turns to Morely

Princess: THAT..is my mother..

[jungnoir]

college boyfriend!rocky

you know... this was going to happen one day.... don’t look at me like that

WHOO HERE WE GO IT’S ROCKSTER’S FIRST YEAR AT COLLEGE

WAIT

OH GOD

WHY DID HE ENROLL

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA

FRICK ABORT ABOR

unlike his classmates from grade school up until his high school graduation, minhyuk had never,,, thought about college

like of course he knew it was a thing and it’s a thing people do usually if they don’t immediately get a job

but tbh, minhyuk just kinda doesn’t feel like he’s really into the whole 4 years or more wasting away with 20 page essays and eight powerpoint presentations on his computer clouding up his space for music

(all ppt’s are named something like “seifheoihfosh” or “huughsksl” because he did the research, professor. why must he be forced to title things appropriately too)

he didn’t like watching his friends stress over the stupid entrance exams and he didn’t want to spend thousands of dollars on studying for another good part of his life, but his parents had done a lot to give him that opportunity

and honestly? it sucks knowing how much his parents have slaved away time at work hoping that if he did aspire to go toward higher education, he wouldn’t have to cut half his studying time in half to work part time jobs just to eat and get by

he’d never admit it to their faces but... he really doesn’t want to study business

and yet here he is, seated in the back of a small classroom with a large air conditioner blowing behind him and making the entire room drop to 60 degrees or lower, learning about that very thing

honestly, when his dad asked him what he planned to major at the nearby university (he had never even been asked if he wanted to go to university, it was just an assumption that he would which made the situation even worse), he had lost what little peace he’d had in the moment and started to panic

there were so many professions, none of which minhyuk had ever considered studying at all, and yet here his parents were smiling at him expectantly like minhyuk had had university merch hanging on his bedroom walls since he was 10

and the first thing he spits out is “business” because that’s a mature thing to study right? that’s something successful people study

except it’s definitely not what minhyuk is interested in and that is made heavily apparent here and now, listening to his professor drone on and on at the head of the classroom

thankfully (not), the loud ass air conditioner behind him is blocking out everything that’s even being discussed, to the point where minhyuk thinks if he had his fancy studio headphones on high volume, he’d still be able to hear better than with the roaring machine in his ear

this detail ends up leaving minhyuk bored and irritated all the time, and he usually either snoozes on the desk until the next class comes in and he’s awoken or tries to focus his time on his phone, mindlessly scrolling as the hours pass and he remains just as unhappy as he had been the minute he’d entered the retched classroom

in fact, the only thing giving him any kind of joy right now was the fact that he had dance practice with the dance club on campus right after this, and he couldn’t be happier to work the cold air out of his bones through cracking out some new moves

since minhyuk’s seat is pretty undesirable, you can imagine no one sits in the three other chairs at that very table....... ever

like he’s never once seen anyone go near that table his whole time in that class

now you,,, you know just how undesirable that table is

even sitting all the way up front with your friends, you often had to bring a hoodie just to block out the cool air that your bumbling professor didn’t seem disturbed by

it didn’t help that you abhor the class as well

you honestly were just taking it for some credit you couldn’t get from the class you wanted to take, the roster having filled up within the first ten minutes of class enrollment opening

when you’d heard this class had an open spot, you had jumped at the chance

boy were you in for it

had you not been as polite as you were, you might not have even attempted to keep eye contact with the professor while he talked about god knows what all the time

but you have your friend, and you two are suffering together so that’s all that matters!!!

until!!!

she gets a boyfriend!!!

you had no problem with her having a boyfriend, rather the opposite really

you were v happy for her!! but since he was in ur class.... and they were always together...... that meant that they always wanted to be close no matter what

the other two people at the table were also a couple, so it seemed you were the one to boot when her boyfriend decided he wanted to sit next to his girlfriend from now on

they had apologized profusely to you as you quietly scooped up your things and tried to keep a calm smile on your face but,, that was your seat

if you didn’t love your friend and her happiness so much, you might’ve threatened the boy to fight you for the seat like a man

but u were nice and civil and it was just a seat

u could manage with a change of scenery in that boring class, couldn’t you?

well, turns out loverboy’s old seat is right next to a gamer who perpetually smells like monster energy drinks and hot cheetos

plus,,, he never covers his mouth when he burps

needless to say, one class of sitting next to him had you desperate to find another seat

until you spotted the back one day

from what you could see, there was no one there yet as you had arrived early, so thinking you had no other choice, you sat yourself in the seat next to the end seat and set your stuff up

even the a/c was off!! this was your lucky day!!

you busy yourself with writing some of your english paper as students pile into the classroom one by one, but you’re not interested enough to people watch today

you’re about nine hundred words longer into your essay and feeling satisfied when you decide to give your hands and eyes a lil break

you smile to yourself and look up, only to nearly jump out of your skin

because there is a boy there, curly hair a mess on his head like he’d just awoken and a hoodie far too big for his lean frame hanging off his body. his backpack is just as huge, practically hanging off his shoulder had it not been for his hand clasped around the strap

and he’s just. staring

he’s staring at you like you’ve killed his mother in cold blood

you stare right back with just as much surprise, wondering if he’ll say anything in particular, but he stays silent

“uh” you finally utter, frowning as he seems to snap back to reality

he points at a chair and mumbles “my... um.... that’s my seat”

it happens to be the seat directly to your left, the aisle seat

you stare at the seat for a few seconds and then slowly scoot your chair over a bit, moving your mess of notes from the space that would intrude his and mutter a quiet apology, suddenly not as pepped as you were before about your new seat

the boy slides into the seat and stays to the very edge of the seat like you have a disease, and you start to feel a little upset at that

even though you don’t know him and he doesn’t know you and is therefore in no way obliged to be friendly with you, it still makes you feel bad

after all, this was his seat

for all you knew, it had been his seat damn near all semester and here you were just intruding on his space out of nowhere

you mutter another apology and type away at your computer much more quietly, wondering if maybe you should just move to the other end of the table to give him space, but you feel it’d be too awkward

plus, the professor just walked in

you watch as the wiry old man flips a switch next to the light

almost immediately, you feel a sudden freezing cold on your back and you wince, realizing that you’d forgotten a very important item despite your preparedness this morning as you strolled to class

your freaking jacket

you left your freaking jacket at your dorm

the mystery boy beside you notices your wince and frowns, feeling suddenly v hot in his large warm jacket that moonbin had given him

here you were, in a tank top with almost all your arms’ expanse exposed to the cold air and your poor body was beginning to shiver as ten minutes of class turned into twenty, which turned into half an hour and you were starting to feel your blood completely turn to ice

“are... are you cold?” mystery boy leans over to ask, spooking you from your trance of squinting at your professor

“huh??? oh... uh... yeah. i was kinda dumb and forgot to bring my jacket this morning. i’m usually on top of that” you explain, turning back to the professor in an attempt to decipher what he’s saying over the loud blowing in your ears

“i would give up if i were you... it’s super hard to hear back here”

you frown and look over at him but he just shrugs, “have you not been able to hear him all semester?”

again, he shrugs

you kinda wonder how he hasn’t failed this class already, but even you can’t talk

even without the a/c, you don’t know what the professor is blabbing about anyway

you sigh in defeat and lean back in your chair, cursing the cold air that’s slowly starting to chill your bones when you feel something warm brush your arm

you’re about to attack the boy next to you, thinking he might be trying to overstep some boundaries, but your face softens when you see he’s shrugged out of his hoodie and is now holding it to you, avoiding eye contact

he shakes it when you don’t immediately accept it, “you need it more than i do” is all he says

you decide that you’re too cold to act courteous and instead you accept said jacket, nearly shuddering when you feel his warmth still lingering on the warm cotton lining inside

you slip it on and are suddenly barricaded in not only warmth, but the mystery boy’s scent

it smells of fruity shampoo and “boy smell”, but it’s not a bad smell

it’s actually kinda........ nice

you find yourself snuggling into the thing so much that by the time the class ends, you sincerely don’t want to part with it, but it seems the mystery boy has somewhere to go and you don’t want to hold his clothes captive

you would retreat to your bedroom soon enough and relish in the warmth of the covers, so you didn’t need it

as you pass it back to him, he gratefully bows his head at you and begins to make his way out of class

until you suddenly call “what’s your name!”

him, and a few of the other students trailing out turn to look, but you’ve got eyes locked right on his

he seems to blush and says in a just loud enough voice, “minhyuk... and you?”

you say your name back, much louder than him, and grin when he smiles back a little before skittering out of the class

and so, you find yourself subconsciously waiting for the next day of class???

every monday, wednesday, and friday, you see him

you start your week with minhyuk and you end your week with minhyuk

for the first few classes after your first meeting, he stays quiet and doesn’t say more than he has to

you remember to bring your jacket of course, but part of you really wants to leave it behind just so you have the excuse of borrowing his again

because damn that thing smelled nice- i mean, ,,, felt nice

slowly, you learn the rules of the back of the classroom that minhyuk cutely calls “the void of room 203″

because of the loud a/c, nothing said back there can be heard for several tables in front of you both

so no matter how loudly you’re dissing people, the rest of the class could be none the wiser

and yes, while it is terribly cold, minhyuk manages to take your mind off it the more you get him to open up

he goes from blushing and going wide-eyed every time you’d talk to greeting you with a shy smile in the hallway when you’d pass each other on the way to different classes

sometimes you’d find him surrounded by a group of five other boys on campus, some you recognized as members of the infamous dance club headed by kwon soonyoung, the dance genius himself

when you asked minhyuk the following day of class about it, he had practically lit up

he seemed all too eager to tell you about his dancing, about how long he’s been interested in it and how kind the older boys in his dance club are

he tells you how one of the boys, moonbin, had given him the jacket he was so fond of and wore to class all the time

you made a mental note to track down this moonbin kid and ask where he got that thing

though you doubted it would feel as nice as minhyuk’s what huh i didn’t say anything

he was v passionate about dance, even blurting out that he thought you should come see him at the dance competition they were having next weekend

of course, right after he’d said that, he had shrunk in on himself and tacked on a “only if you want...” at the end

and sure enough, you had requested he point you in the direction of acquiring tickets to see him

at first he’s all like no!!! i was kidding!!!!

but you’re so insistent and you seem to genuinely want to see him dance so i mean

who is he to stop you?

(someone who thinks ur hella cute that’s who)

he ends up taking you with him after class for the first time, and you note with a little giddiness that you’ve never really been anywhere else with minhyuk outside of classes... purposefully

like you’ve seen each other and struck up conversations in line at the caf but you’ve never actually went somewhere with him, planning to anyway

so it’s kind of funny how you two linger near each other as he leads you to the arts building where the dancers reside

the top floor is for the ballet dancers, while the bottom floor is where all the hip hop dancers hang

he shows you one of the open practice rooms where a few of his dance crew are, and you can’t believe your eyes when minhyuk suddenly just.... changes

right before your eyes is no longer the shy boy you’d grown fond of

now he was all kinds of excitable, greeting his fellow members with big smiles and laughter and suddenly you feel like the shy one out of you two

he doesn’t even really seem to notice, talking to the boys about this and that

but then one of them spots you and coughs rather loudly, making gestures at you when minhyuk gives him a puzzled look

a glimpse of the shy boy comes back when he rushes over to you and places his hands on your shoulders, guiding you over to the group of boys

you’re honestly too stunned by the sudden touch he’s initiated that you pretty much blank out on him introducing you to everyone

it’s only when the boy who had initially noticed you walks up and holds out his hand, sweat dripping down his neck and chest but looking otherwise unbothered by it

“hi, i’m moonbin! i’m minhyuk’s friend,,, he talks a lot about you ya know”

you flush just as minhyuk drops his hands from your shoulders and whines back “i do not!!” indignantly, all the while the others simply refute his claim with a chorus of “yeah you do”‘s

you find it more endearing than you probably should when minhyuk stutters over a response to you, looking absolutely mortified and regretting bringing you here after all

but then moonbin takes control as if he hadn’t just utterly destroyed his friend’s confidence in seconds “so! what brings you here?”

“minhyuk said he’d sell me tickets to your dance competition?”

moonbin widens his eyes at you and then looks at minhyuk, “you’re making your friend pay?”

minhyuk seems to snap out of his pity party long enough to form a reply, looking a little pouty, “well, of course... y- we need it”

moonbin stares at him for a solid minute before he bursts into laughter, shooting you a smile as if to say he’s sorry for you being friends with the younger boy

then he goes over to his duffle and pulls out a ticket and hands it to you, shoving his hands into his pockets despite your confusion

“don’t worry, you’re minhyuk’s friend. you’re free to come. hell, you could sell the ticket for all i care”

you’re v thankful, telling him that you’ll definitely come and that you’ll definitely scold minhyuk for being so stingy, and then the both of you are walking out of the building with much less haste

as you’re walking, you turn to minhyuk to see he looks a lil deflated

“did it bother you that much the way they joked with you?” you ask quietly, watching his expression for any telling signs

but he shakes his head quickly, smiling reassuringly if only for a moment

he seems to be debating over what to say before he finally does, “it’s... moonbin.... he doesn’t have a lot of money to come to the school to begin with. we try to split up enough money from the dance competitions we win to go toward his tuition. since we also help sell tickets and advertise the venues we dance at, we send that money his way as well. he’s usually humble about the whole thing, which is why i was hoping i’d get tickets from soonyoung or something...”

you feel bad all of a sudden, wanting to go back and demand you pay to moonbin, but you know that would just make him uncomfortable

so instead, you slip more than enough cash into minhyuk’s hand and watch as his comically large eyes find yours

“don’t tell him i gave that to you, alright? i’ll beat you up right after he does”

all minhyuk does is nod, shoving the money in his pocket

and he lingers

until he throws his arms around your neck and you’re caught into a hug

and god.... this is the first time you’ve been so close to minhyuk.... you can feel his rapid heart beat and his breaths rustling the hair at your ear

“i’m sorry, it’s just... when people... are kind to the people i love, i tend to really like those people a lot”

you practically melt as you hug him back, despite your nervous movements that he doesn’t seem to notice

“I thought you already liked me” you joke, squeezing the fabric of his shirt in your hands

he pulls back, half a foot from your face

and those mesmerizing angel eyes catch yours

“...maybe i already did. maybe... this just sealed the deal for me” he mutters, though it’s loud and clear for you

from that moment forward, you can’t help but admit.... you’ve fallen for park minhyuk

suddenly when you’re sitting next to him in class, all you can think about is his quiet squeaky laugh as he makes you watch funny videos on his phone

suddenly you’re wanting to be in that jacket of his more

and even when he scolds you for forgetting your jacket again, you snuggle unabashedly into the warmth of his clothes and he can’t pretend he doesn’t like seeing you wearing his clothes often

he’s sneaking glances of you when you come to watch him practice, always showing off in the subtlest of ways just to impress you

schooling his expression into something he’d think is sexy, and what moonbin would call “constipated”

but shhhh moonbin u think it is kinda sexy,,, in a constipated way

plus, it’s not like you don’t just end up completely entranced by his moves when he’s really into it

you often imagine yourself, and you’d never admit this aloud, dancing with him

sometimes a particularly beautiful song will come on and you’d find yourself zoning out, imaging him holding you, moving with you, dancing as if you’re made to mold together

it’s the night before the competition when minhyuk calls you

he’s asked you to come to his practice this time instead of having you come without invitation because he wants to be sure you’ll be there

he tells you that he’d bought you dinner, and that he just wanted you to tell him if he needed to fix any part of his dance

even though he had perfected it weeks ago, he still agonized over it

you really just want to bop him upside the head and tell him that no, there was nothing to fix. there was never anything to fix because he was perfect

still, you do as told, sitting up against the mirror that he faces when he dances

it feels so different compared to sitting against one of the walls like you usually do, because you can see all of his expressions clear as day

you watch as he stops in the middle of his routine, taking in a few deep breaths as he tries to regain his energy

“minhyuk-” “i don’t think it’s good enough yet”

you frown, “it’s perfect, minhyuk!”

he just looks at you with a dejected look, “you have to say that.... you’re my friend”

you frown and set your orange chicken to the side, crawling across the floor to where he’s now crouched and taking a swig of water

when you’re within inches of him, you hold out a hand “you wanna see not good enough? put on a song and dance with me”

he looks at you for a moment and laughs, “what?”

you shrug at him and head over to the stereo, putting his playlist on shuffle and laughing when a particularly cheesy 2000′s r&b song comes on

you watch as minhyuk cringes, trying to muffle his laughs as you start to dance over to him, looking extremely awkward yet managing to lift his spirit in seconds

he’s so attracted to your personality,,, you just have a light that makes him look twice

so he takes you up on your offer and decides to dance with you, knowing he looks super goofy and knowing if any of the boys walked in he’d be roasted within an inch of his life but he still,,,, has fun

anyone would argue it’s simply because it’s you and when is he not willing to make a fool of himself just to make you laugh i mean

the kid is just...... gone... for u

you two are just dancing like this, acting like a pair of dummies to like,,, sexy can i or somethin

and then the music ends as a softer song plays and you and minhyuk fall to the floor in a fit of breathless giggles

you land first and he lands across your tummy, effectively weighing you down to the wooden floor and making you swat at him just so he’ll let you breathe

he slowly slides off of you, laying down on his side beside you instead

“thank you” he says softly, smiling so big that you think it might tear his face in two

you just reach up a hand to his face and comb his hair from his sweaty forehead, smiling back just a little smaller bc you’ve only been this close to him once before and your heart wasn’t beating as fast as that time

there’s a calmness over you, a burst of confidence that you’re not sure where it comes from and you’re a little scared to see what it’ll drive you to do

but you rest your hand on his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours

“can i kiss you?” you both ask at the same time

and then burst into another fit of giggles

minhyuk looks both totally embarrassed and totally flattered, knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling anything right then

“yeah... uh... let’s just...” minhyuk starts, trying to find the right words

(of which he doesn’t get to finish doing because you’ve already cut him off with a kiss..... it’s ok bud)

(if moonbin was here, he’d probably scream)

(if soonyoung was here, he would probably take pictures like a proud mother) (that’s weird, soonyoung) (don’t do that)

from this moment on, you could say you and minhyuk begin to engage in some,,, sor t of courting

i say “some sort” because if you thought minhyuk would get any better at being around you after kissing you then,, heh

the poor bean is just a bundle of nerves every time he’s around you!!! like even more so!!! bc he hasn’t dated much in his young life and he likes you a heck of a lot

most dates he went on back in high school were with ppl his friends would set him up with, which usually either ended in him being turned down or the other way around

but you? he’d be crushed if this didn’t work out

he takes most of his dating tips from the older boys which is a Bad idea but he also doesn’t have many reliable sources to begin with i mean

his mom suggested a good date idea would be bringing you home for scrabble night

so, needless to say, your first couple of dates are just some awkward mixture of candlelight dinners in stuffy clothes and movie dates where he’s spent half an hour debating if he should put his arm around you or not

but one day, you’ve had enough

and you suggest a date at the arcade

and jesus christ you never knew minhyuk was this competitive asufheoihfi

he loosens up so much playing around with you, whether shooting baskets at the basketball game or trying to slice off the other’s fingers during a game of air hockey

you actually end up winning the most tickets tho, much to his pouting dismay

that is, up until you combine all your tickets and buy him a giant stuffed panda

“i’m the luckiest guy in this arcade tonight :)” “you’re on a date with me, of course you are”

you and minhyuk just have this natural best friend kind of relationship?? like if no one ever told jinjin that you two were together, he’d be none the wiser

you and minhyuk: *eskimo kissing while snuggled against each other*

jinjin: aw i love friendship :)

but it’s just expected that you two are mostly distant pda wise, unless you two are alone

if you are alone, you have to kind of ease minhyuk into initiating skinship with you

but from there? u don’t have to ask

he’s got a hand on you always

he just likes having u close. it’s a pisces thing

sometimes he jokes that after a few years into your relationship, he would be comfortable enough to hold hands with you in public (at least most of you hopes he’s joking)

he doesn’t take nearly as long to get comfortable with you, though he often felt bad when he’d see a couple in public hugging or one with their arm around the other, and he just wasn’t sure he was ready for that

but you had assured him countless times that you’d wait. that you would never go so far that he could not follow

and minhyuk likes that you don’t try to force him. he likes that he can comfortably mold with you

often times, you feel as if you need to guide him along,,, which can be a bit tricky

bc while you do want to be there for him, there are times you wished he would be more assertive

when you guys fight, it’s only after days of bubbling tension that boils over

minhyuk would often brush you off if he was annoyed with something you did, while you were one to confront him

his passiveness would start to crumble after a while of this

when minhyuk gets into arguments with you, it’s one of the few other times you see him get so passionate

he comes at you full of emotion like a hurricane of upset that you had no idea you’d let loose

and at first, it really kind of throws you off

but you notice that minhyuk is the type to try and pretend everything is okay, even if he knows it’s not

if only to keep from facing reality for a little bit

it’s something he hates about himself and he promises he’s working on it

that’s why when you finish fighting, he habitually takes your hands in his and kisses them both, never breaking eye contact with you as he asks “are we okay?”

when you nod, he knows he can survive another day

because you’re both young and you’re both trying to figure this whole thing out, and he’ll figure it out with you because he doesn’t want to lose you. he won’t let himself sabotage one of the best things that has happened to him. not ever

minhyuk tells you about switching majors a few weeks after you get together

he explains that while he had initially intended to stay in school as a business major and land a stable job so that his parents’ work wouldn’t be in vain, the dance club was the most fun he ever had at school

moonbin, being a dance major, had also tried to encourage minhyuk to pursue his dream

every sign was pointing toward switching, but minhyuk didn’t want to let his parents down

so you decided you’d go with him to talk to his parents

you’d met them once before, so they already had a positive view of you, but from the way minhyuk talked about disappointing them, you were legitimately worried they’d be mad or something

it’s only when minhyuk sits them down and tells them that..... well.....

“oh? is that all?”

minhyuk is O.O

his parents look completely unbothered, “if that’s what you wanna do, do it honey” “you mean.... you’re not upset? being a dance major doesn’t promise a stable career” “we didn’t spend our lives working to send you to school to do the safe thing, we did it so you could do what makes you happy”

you just smile brightly next to minhyuk, rubbing his shoulders as he lets the info sink in, and then he just can’t stop thanking them for loving and caring for him so much

you can tell changing his major just makes minhyuk become so much brighter, literally

every time you see him, he’s sparkling and so happy

he loves that he’s dancing for more than just a side hobby and that he can focus on what he wants, and while you miss him in your boring business class, you can bet he’s waiting outside in the hall for you after class each day

...even though he only has fifteen minutes to book it to his next class

you love him but he really is quite a romantic dolt sometimes

you love seeing your dancing machine so happy, and if he’s happy, so are you

enjoy him!!! he will love you to the moon (bin) and back

[pmsocialmedia]

SwoonMe uses avatars and audio for its ‘less superficial’ dating app

A new startup called SwoonMe aims to fix the problem with superficial dating apps, where users primarily make decisions based on how someone looks in their photos. Instead of swiping through profiles, SwoonMe’s idea is to use a combination of avatars and audio to encourage users to connect based on someone’s personality, not their appearance.

To use the app, you take a selfie which SwoonMe converts into an avatar. This is what others will see when they come to your profile. You then record a voice clip to tell others about yourself and what you’re looking for in a partner. You’ll also answer a few questions — like whether you’re looking for marriage or something more casual and what your love language is (e.g. physical touch, gifts, words of affirmation, etc.), among other things.

The result is that when people scroll through SwoonMe, they’re not making snap decisions based on what they’re seeing, but are rather making more thoughtful decisions based what they hear. When two people match, the app encourages them to continue to get to know each other using voice messages and soon, icebreaker games — not texting and photo-sharing. As they communicate, their avatar will slowly unveil their real photo.

Image Credits: SwoonMe

The idea for SwoonMe comes from Tanvi Gupta, a former Facebook product specialist who was involved with a number of high-profile products, including those that shipped in Messenger and in Instagram Direct, such as Messenger reactions, a Messenger redesign, chat heads on Android, and more. This experience taught her a lot about launching new products built from scratch, and helping them to find product market fit, she says.

But Gupta decided to build SwoonMe because of her own personal struggles with modern-day dating apps, where men who messaged her immediately wanted to share selfies and meet her without having read anything on her profile.

“The dating world always felt super-indexed on looks, given the proliferation of apps like Tinder and Bumble,” Gupta explains. “And what I felt was they were not solving my personal need for somebody who wants to connect for a long-term relationship,” she says.

Gupta began work on SwoonMe during the pandemic, when the market was hungry for new ways to connect people online — a trend that had led the to the launch of audio apps like Clubhouse, and later, its many clones. The founder says she was also inspired by Clubhouse, as it demonstrated the potential in audio-based social networking, including how it could be used for more personal connections.

“Platforms like Clubhouse have shown that taking video and looks out of the equation allow people to lean into actual topics,” Gupta says. “It creates new levels of intimacy and interaction, and we’re basically trying to capture this with SwoonMe, but in the dating world.”

Though SwoonMe isn’t necessarily limited only to people looking for relationships, it may initially appeal to that demographic because it requires a bit more time and focus to listen to soundbites and engage in audio-based messaging. This experience would be more likely to attract someone who is taking dating more seriously, not someone in search of a quick hookup or causal connection.

Image Credits: SwoonMe

SwoonMe is not the first social app to use avatars instead of photos, however. Avatar-based social discovery apps have been popular in other markets in Asia and in Brazil, but have yet to make their way to the U.S. That may soon change, though, as Tinder parent Match Group this year acquired Seoul-based social app maker Hyperconnect — its biggest acquisition ever at $1.73 billion. AR-powered avatars are a part of the app portfolio that came with the deal.

The startup is also not the first dating app to take the idea of the “face reveal” — a somewhat gimmicky concept popularized by online creators — into the world of dating. There are a number of voice-based based apps on the app stores today, which have seen varying degrees of success.

In February, for example, an app called Jigsaw raised $3.7 million for its own so-called “anti-superficial” dating app that places puzzle pieces over users’ faces which can only be removed after a pre-set amount of in-app engagement. But in Jigsaw’s case, the puzzle pieces were to be applied over full body photos, and it had banned selfies. That means the app was doing the opposite of what it proposes. Instead of encouraging daters to ignore images, some users were likely making decisions based on what someone’s body looked like in their photo with their face removed. That’s even worse. (After expressing my concerns to Jigsaw and declining to cover them, the startup told me it ended its selfie ban and now accepts a wide range of imagery.)

Gupta also feels strongly that women, in particular, deserve a different way to meet people that’s not about their looks alone.

“As a female, one of the main drivers behind founding company like SwoonMe, which is audio-first and not photos, is because I personally am tired, and have been tired, of being objectified by men…We’re living in 21st century and I am done with that. I want someone to like me because of my personality, because of my voice, because of what I bring into a relationship,” she says. “Sure, physical attraction is important, but that is not the only thing,” Gupta adds.

As it turns out, there’s demand for a less superficial dating app from men, too. In fact, SwoonMe currently has more male users than female at present. (The app, to be clear, is open to all gender identities and sexual orientations as the issues it aims to solve can impact everyone. It also offers an inclusive sign-up flow.)

Though it’s too soon to report user numbers and growth, Gupta says the app has “a good number” of early testers and they’ve been able to get solid user feedback so far.

The bigger question for SwoonMe is whether or not it can attract people looking for real relationships, as many of those people  avoid dating apps altogether. It’s also competing with a growing number of video-first dating apps, like Snack, aimed at Gen Z users who are more comfortable filming themselves thanks to their use of social media platforms like TikTok.

At launch, SwoonMe doesn’t generate revenue, but plans to add premium features if it reaches scale. Longer-term, the company would like to expand its platform beyond dating to help keep couples connected during their relationship, too.

SwoonMe soft-launched across both the App Store and Play Store for beta testing, but is today announcing its official launch. Currently, SwoonMe is targeting the dating markets of San Francisco and L.A., but is open to anyone who wants to try it.

The startup is a small team and currently working to raise $1 million in seed funding.

via Social – TechCrunch https://ift.tt/3yy853w

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

categorized and generalized all the types of tumblr aesthetics i have come across.

I have been going through archives for the last five years on tumblr now, and i can’t help but notice that a lot of blogs are the same. There seems to be a pattern in the sorts of aesthetics i run up against. So, in my exhaustion, i tried coming up with all the different aesthetics, and i tried to put them into certain categories. Obviously, some of these categories are mixed with others.

PORN TUMBLR

-general porn

-lesbian/gay general

-kinky stuff

-daddy dom stuff - tied up boobies

-bears

-just unrealistic nudes

-just realistic nudes

-vintage porn, and occasionally porn that is so old that it was drawn by someone in the 1800′s

- hentai and erotic animal people cartoon characters going at it

-person who took about five pictures of themselves naked five years ago who has not come back

RICH KID TUMBLR

-super modelesque kids in their super rich cool kid clothes and fashion in Starbucks taking pictures of their food and their trips to Europe in 1st class

- incredibly expensive looking sunglasses

-rich kid travel blogs with hundreds of thousands of notes of pictures from rich people buildings

-quotes that say 'be happy' or stuff about saying anyone can just travel anywhere at any time, just the general advice you might get from someone who doesn't know how the other half lives

- cats

VINTAGE TUMBLR

-the greatest generation stuff, forgotten early hollywood actors/actresses, very old movie gifs, Theda Bara, Clara Bow, Carol Lombard, early Joan Crawford, Gone with the Wind ect..

-50's, 60's and 70's, Nancy Sinatra, Brigitte Bardot, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn – generally a lot of Audrey Hepburn

-Posts old advertisements and old cars, sometimes old toys, a few pinups, vintage comics, kinda weird

- vintage toy blogs - just toys, named and dated

-sometimes retrospace stuff

-sometimes just old comic book stuff

FEMINIST/ GENDER STUDIES TUMBLR

-intersectional feminists who post mostly text and back and forth writings, sometimes they fight 

-radfems and turfs, unpopular minority of angry at the intersectional feminists

- Fat Acceptance movement, chubby bunnies

-other girl's selfies, lots of girl power related drawings of gender symbols and the like, Grimes, being a witch, Courtney Love, sailor moon, and so forth, sometimes bleeds into soft grunge

-topics on transgender, gender fluid and others that have informative 

- asexual community

BLACK LIVES MATTER TUMBLR

-black lives matter awareness, police brutality, pointing out flaws in legal system

-lovely stylish selfies

-call outs of racism, lots of dialogue, and the extension of twitter

80's + 90's GIF TUMBLR

-like gifs of scratched up VCR obscure film openings, and repetitious obscure 80's gifs in general, everything is fuzzy and looks like it came from an 80' infomercial, kinda makes you feel scared

-90's gifs of Pee Wee Herman, Catdog, Clarissa Explains it All, Chucky Cheese, Fruit by the Foot, Beavus and Butthead, Bart Simpson, and so on

HIPPIE TUMBLR

-just like the rich kidz, only they have white kid dreads and post a lot of vanlife stuff, lots of festivals

-mostly psychedelic gifs, with occasional trippy art, Foster the People is their favorite band

-real hippies, who post pictures of communes and people making tyed dye things, nonsexual nudes with hairy women, Grateful Dead stuff

-Buddhist and Hindu quotes, sometimes lilies

SOFT GRUNGE TUMBLR

purple and pink skies, water, windows with lace

girls with pale skin and perfect make up, and chokers, bruises, sparkly skin

mermaid texture, mermaid hair colors

Lana Del Rey

kind of like 90's only more melty and pink

quotes about good vibes

Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless mind reference

moon print

dream pop bands from the early 90's

GROWN UP SOFT GRUNGE TUMBLR

picture of Uma Thurman overdosing in Pulp Fiction

lots and lots of flowers

lots of sensual pictures of pale skin under certain lighting

albino people

albino animals

pictures of sunrises

Reykjavic

kind of like the Soft Grunge, but just a little bit more subtle and film tumblry

ART BLOG TUMBLR

old roman art

chinese, japanese and korean art from long ago

renaissance and medieval art with religious context

just like medieval art of specifically torture

18th and 19th century portrait paintings

Scenic paintings of hills, Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, Monet

Dada, Pablo Picasso, Jackson Pollock, Salvador Dali, Andy Warhol, Adolph Wolfie

Modern art that is squiggly, slimy, and bizzare, breaks art rules but looks good, David Shrigley

Modern Surrealists

ARTIST BLOG TUMBLR

posts really great homemade gifs that nobody knows about infrequently

blogs that only have the artwork of the blog owner – generally post infrequently and not given enough credit ever, except maybe one of there works has a whole bunch of notes

person who keeps painting the same thing over and over again and does it a lot for years at a time, 0 notes usually – who are you??

collage artists that mix 50's scenes with hyperspace backdrops

FILM BLOG TUMBLR

-Stanley Kubrick, Jean Cocteau, lots of black and white french films

-that movie where the two people are sitting on the ledge of a building and the other one jumps off

Clockwork Orange

-Paris, Texas

David Lynch

Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks (gets stolen by other kinds of blogs frequently)

Wim Wenders,

Rare film art from Poland in the 70's

Jans Svankmajer

Man Ray, Max Ernst,

cool quotes by philosopher, artist, psychologist, or film director

Amelie

sometimes Wes Anderson

PHOTOGRAPHY TUMBLR

abandoned places, gas stations, archaic cafes, falling apart amusement parks

uses too much dark fade out in the background pictures of fields and stuff, overused filtering – posted a ton three years ago and then left

just photostock

girl who takes pictures of herself in costume

Nature pictures, animal pictures ect..

person who just takes pictures of textures and minimalist buildings – usually colorful

person who's personal Instagram picture just automatically post to tumblr also, probably never checks up, usually pictures of them with friends as a pub

Indigenous pictures from around the world, some of them from books, some from National Geographic, some from other places

Super old pictures from old newspapers, the great depression, WW2 – generally black and white

MUSIC TUMBLR

Really likes Led Zeppelin, The Doors and The Who, sometimes mixed with other vintage, often posts the same pictures and songs for years – you feel bad because no new music will be coming out from these artists

super cheesy Van Halen, Kiss, Styx, Ozzy person, Big Hair, likes 80's pin ups and skulls, sometimes into martial arts

super cheesy death metal fan, lots of pinups, corny black and white pictures of skulls and such

REALLY likes British Invasion, The Zombies, The Kinks, The Hollies, The Animals, will occasionally post Detroit girl groups from the 60's, some Velvet Underground, pictures of the Beatles girlfriends

Just David Bowie, Lou Reed, Patti Smith and Iggy Pop. Maybe some New York Dolls

Old Blues and Jazz, Etta James, Son House, Nina Simone, pictures of Leadbelly and Howlin' Wolf and especially Miles Davis

really into post punk, Nick Cave, Siouxsie, Bauhaus, The Cure, Einsturzende Neubauten, Lydia Lunch, PJ Harvey and Rowland S. Howard, sometimes Morrissey. also generally mixes film and art blog stuff in with occasional feminist things

Just Morrissey, they call him Moz.

Fan clubs for specific bands that are newer and popular like Arctic Monkeys or Fallout Boy, but also ones blogs that really like emo lyrics from early 2000's and such – scene kids that are still scenin' it up

loves Jens Lekman, Belle and Sebastian, The Magnetic Fields and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Cigarettes After Sex. Usually posts really cute modern art, and uses tumblr mostly for writing, has the cutest hair cut and can pull off overalls, never posts too little or too much, extremely twee

HISTORY TUMBLR

ancient mesopotamia, greek and Egyptian history and relics

Blogs that are specifically about one place in one era - Ancient Russia, Ireland before it was taken over, precolonial India and so on

Samurai, Geisha, and scrolls

Swords, knights, castles, kings of Europe in general

Specific Wars, examples: 7 Years War, Revolutionary War, WW1 + 2

France from before the revolution – pictures of wigged men, Napoleon, Marie Antoinette

Jane Austen time era anything 18th and 19th century, slight excuse to post lots of Pride and Prejudice gifs with Keira Knightly and that Mr. Darcy in the rain

Outfits – just outfits that are really old

person who is obsessed with the Nazis and seems to like Hitler

Flappers and earlier 20th – often an excuse to post gifs of Downton Abbey

Vintage books, often children books, but sometimes others

DESIGN TUMBLR

really fucked up pictures of the Simpsons melting and stuff

gradient graphic art with symbols or words meant to convey a product that I don't understand for an obscure magazine subscription

graphic squiggles without form, minimalist graphic pictures of beach balls, tennis bats, and sneakers

bizarre smiley faces made from smaller smiley faces

80's inspired design

odd looking models with undercuts and no eyebrows

cartoon dogs and cats

just static and glitches. Nothing more, nothing less

either they make their own graphic designs and they rarely post, or they compile reblogs of everyone else's and they post all the time

WEIRDO TUMBLR

insane family pictures of family who all has mullet dressed as bumble bees

Lots of Robert Crumb, some vintage stuff, but nothing remotely main stream

Some of the modern art, but only the weirdest of it

claymation masks

Comix

Moebius

art from early Power Point

100 piece sculptures with melted toys

paintings of monsters

Steve Brule

children's fan art of Smokey the Bear – looks disturbing

Items that are too kitschy to be accepted by your average vintage indie blog

sometimes a specific blog centered around some kind of crazy event where everyone dresses completely insane

POLITICAL TUMBLR

the communists and Marxists

a mixture of BLM and LGBTQ stuff

the libertarians, anarchocapitalists, Ayn rand folk

the left wing anarchists, freegans, graffiti punks, garden punks, possums

informative left wing news that explains to us everyday how the GOP is fucking us

alt. right creeps who are simply here to be trolls and upset everyone else – anti SJW, that stupid frog, nationalists, trump supporters and such – irrelevant poorly thought memes

I miss Obama memes

Bernie Sanders forever and always folk

RAINBOW TUMBLR

pictures of rainbow candies, toys, designs, clothing and so forth all of it rainbow

people who post one color at a time, so when you go through their archive it's all gradient and neat looking – usually the pictures are a little stock photoish though

HALLOWEEN TUMBLR

Betty Page

The Cramps. Reverend Horton Heat

Psychobilly pin ups, old cars, burning skulls, vintage B horror movies, The Swamp Thing

Legitimately obsessed with the activities of Halloween – posts witches, devils, trick or treat candy, Bella Lugosi, The Monster Mash, Halloween decoration - and doesn't ever forget how many days away Halloween is

Jack the Skeleton

Freddy Krueger

FANCLUB TUMBLR

Superwholock

Hannigram

American Horror Story

K Pop and J Pop + Korean Drama

boy bands in general

Hamilton

My Little Ponies

Ghibli Studios

Various anime shows

fat Disney princesses

Super heroes

Pokemon

Big Bang Theory

Mighty Boosh

Monty Python

Phantom of the Opera

Labyrinth

Vampire Chronicles

Orange is the New Black

Breaking Bad

Alice in Wonderland

Harry Potter

Star Wars

Steven Universe

Adventure Time

Game of Thrones and Walking Dead

any television show really

Furry cartoons

lots of spacy quick anime chibi versions of characters who are hooking up and wouldn't normally in the show

scenes from movies with subtext that comes from a different movie or show

probably countless others i am not thinking of.

SPECIALTY TUMBLR

serial killer blogs

unexplained mysteries, ghosts, ufo's

pictures of galaxies with information (not sparkly silly ones with no context)

sewing and yarn

precious stones

cars

just gardening

just cats

religious blogs, either Islam, Christian, Jewish, Hindu or Buddhist

specific animal blogs, snake, spiders, wild cats and such

science blogs about technology and stuff

NATURE TUMBLR

stock photoish pictures of camp grounds and misty mountains – often taken by the hippies

angelic looking deer, and occasional animal burials with flowers'

person who takes pictures of flowers all the time

granola type fellow who loves juicing and backpacking – doesn't get on tumblr much

BLACK AND WHITE GOTH TUMBLR

slenderman fan art, actually just about anything creepypasta related

you have to turn off the music when you visit their page because it's just too much

fan art of black eyed children

slit wrists

pictures that were turned into Gifs because they shake

taxidermy

screamo lyrics

Alice in wonderland with X's for eyes

gothic models

occasional serial killer

skulls and references to Edgar Allan Poe

GIF MEME TUMBLR

just a sea of Gifs and memes relating to anything about life ever – almost shitposting but not quite

eventually one of the gifs got 100,000 notes for it's relatability so they get a lot of traffic

lots of pictures and circumstances from The Office, Parks and Rec, and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Nihilist memes

SOFTY TUMBLR

kind of a little girl dom thing going on

Kawai and lots of Japanese girls

cute colorful make up

plushies and toys

references to fantasy cartoons from the 80's, the last unicorn, or that one with the girls in that band

Polly Pockets, Furbies, trolls

gifs of stars and hearts

Sailor Moon

pink bedroom

baby animals

occasionally more on the vintage kitschy side

WICCA TUMBLR

ravens, bats, candles

pentacles and other symbols

crystals

sometimes there is dreads

occasionally, it is a serious practicing Wicca who posts spells and gives witch advice

lots of personal reflections

boobs

GROSS TUMBLR

Tim and Eric, Steve Brule centered blog that are mostly in the act to make you feel queezy

like, people eating cheerios with ketchup and people wearing shoes with the soles cut out, people putting their feet in spagetti, bad tattoos on foreheads

snails, beetles, bird doing mean things to people

mostly moldy things, moss, strange dolls

things that look like they came from the dark crystal,

delapitating bedrooms that once belonged to a little girl, torn wall paper, old porcelain dolls that are slightly upsetting

Clowns

occasionally a blog so gross you will be ruined for having seen it – Two Girls one Cup sort of thing

NERD TUMBLR

old video game start up pages

Super Mario Bros.

Other video game characters

chibis of video game characters interacting with one another

Final Fantasy references

randomly doesn't post for a year

SELF HELP TUMBLR

blog that gives dumb advice that only works if you were already happy anyway

either semi fake or oversimplified 'psyche facts'

blogs from people who suffer from addiction or mental illness and want help and use their blog to vent

blogs ran by people who enjoy crystal meth and don’t give a fuck.

worthy of mentioning, blogs that nobody ever posted a single thing or just one thing, like, really cryptic blogs that nobody could ever understand, blogs that were taken over by some kind of virus and they are trying to sell you male pattern baldness remedies, or they are now call absurdly pornographic things because the virus took over and now they are like blonde cumfuck creampie or something of that nature, and blogs were the person was basically saying they have found a girlfriend/boyfriend now and don’t need tumblr anymore so goodbye

and in my experience ...

anybody can post pictures of jiggly boobs

anybody can post Grace Jones

anybody can post a Bjork song

these seem to be universal truths that defy limitations

[writeblr-ttodp]

Chapter 3:

The Incredible Nightlife of Archie Eligo

. Marina Pinebill’s pride was shattered after the skillfully executed robbery of her manor by what she believed to be the ghost of her late husband and his team of extraterrestrials. Her prized possession, the massive multicolored portrait of her face, had been stolen along with many other valuables. In addition, there would be a puddle of lake water on one of her favorite rugs every morning when she woke up, which she believed was being done by the aliens to confuse her.

. Lady Pinebill’s superstitious nature was not unfounded by any means. When she had married into the Pinebill family, she had been told of an ancient secret: that the family had a history of witchcraft and had used it to help procure its massive fortune. The remnants of this magic had been lost except for the maid who lived in the carriage house. Her name was Archie Eligo and she was a long time family servant as well as a vampire.

. Archie’s appearance was that of a young woman with long legs and piercing red eyes. She was very fashionable and had recently dyed her hair pink. Today, she was wearing black leather pants with gold heels and a sky blue bomber jacket with racing stripes on the sleeves over a cheetah print tank top. To shield the rest of her body from the sun, she wore red leather gloves, round aviator sunglasses, and a navy blue wide rimmed hat. The dark red lipstick she wore made her fanged teeth look whiter than snow. Walking by her side was her cream colored cat which she had affectionately named Dr. Scratch ‘N Sniff. The reason Archie had made the treacherous venture into the sunlight was that she had been called into the manor by Lady Pinebill herself to discuss a matter of great importance.

. Once inside the brightly lit mansion, Archie walked into Lady Pinebill's study. Marina Pinebill was sitting behind an expensive oak desk and facing away from the door in a large swivel chair so that she could turn around dramatically to begin the meeting. Archie Eligo was an intimidating young vampire so the theatrics were necessary to maintain an air of power.

. “Please, Archie, have a seat,” instructed the old woman while gesturing to the sturdy green leather office chair on the opposite side of the desk.

. “Thank you, Marina, but I would prefer to stand,” Archie said.

. Lady Pinebill smiled politely as she seethed on the inside. Working with self righteous vampires was always such a drag. Archie was disrespectful and insensitive. Marina would have fired her already if she wasn't so efficient. Or so terrifying.

. “Archie, I want you to listen to me carefully. Those two men covered in dirt who just left were the Men in Black. I've heard of this phenomenon before. Two strange men in black suits visIt people who have encountered extraterrestrials. They came around asking about the robbery. This must be an urgent matter. I need it cleared up so that those men don't come back and erase my memory. I want my things returned to me and the perpetrators of this crime brought to justice. Do you understand?” Lady Pinebill murmured intensely.

. “Yes ma'am. I understand,” Archie replied.

. Archie left Marina’s study and laughed to herself. Archie didn't believe in aliens but she did believe in having fun away from the estate and keeping a certain percentage of whatever she recovered. Archie waited until it was dark outside to leave the mansion because she had not visited the manor in so long that she happy to lay down on one of the many lavish velvet sofas with her cat and relish in the luxury that was found only in small quantities in her carriage house. Archie was used to waiting. She had been alive for so many years that the time she spent doing nothing was simply routine.

. The invention of the smartphone was a genius development in recent years. Now, she could do nothing by doing something. Archie spent the seven remaining hours of daylight with her earbuds plugged into her rose gold iPhone and listening to her favorite playlists on Spotify, especially her favorite song, Lipgloss by Lil’ Mama, and shopping for clothes online using Marina’s credit card. Archie dropped a four hundred dollar pair of shoes into her online shopping cart and felt no remorse whatsoever. Before long, day turned to dusk and Archie stood up to leave.

. On her way out of the mansion, she stopped by the kitchen to pick up a blue Nalgene water bottle from the refrigerator. It was full of blood and had a cute little straw at the top for her convenience. Her next stop was to the garage. A stylish lady like herself required an equally stylish car. The garage was attached to the back of the manor and was filled with the family’s most prized vehicles. The sleek purple sports car that had once belonged to Bill Pinebill VI before his untimely death was her favorite because its doors opened upwards instead of out. Marina would be angry but Archie knew the old woman was too much of a wuss to actually do anything. With the exception of her well executed mariticide, Marina had always been more talk than action. Archie felt like royalty when she opened the front gate with a remote and drove through it into the real world with Dr. Scratch ‘N Sniff riding shotgun.

. Archie’s music blasted over the stereo system playing Bad Girl's by M.I.A.. The beautiful vampire took off her hat and placed it in her lap. Then, she rolled down the window and let the wind rush through her hair as she drove entirely too fast into town. Archie was not typically allowed to leave the estate and her life debt to the Pinebill lineage compelled her to follow their rules within the realm of possibility. Marina had not been born a Pinebill but her marriage qualified her as the vampire’s instructor. Archie was cosmically compelled to do as the woman instructed but could resist any order she saw fit. As the last of the the Pinebills, Marina exercised this power to its fullest capacity. The only unbreakable part of their contract was this: that under no circumstances was Archie allowed or able to harm or kill Marina. Archie detested her.

. The girl took a turn down Neon Street. The street was really called Freeman Lane but everyone called it Neon Street because all of the storefronts displayed enough neon signs in their windows at night to light up the entire street like daylight made of colors. The tradition had started twenty-eight years ago when the Scaly Pale, a restaurant that only served exotic seafood, placed an insurmountably large neon sign in the shape of a mermaid. From then on, the businesses on Freeman Lane competed with one another using the bright neon lights, always trying to outdo each other. The result was Neon Street. And it was beautiful.

. Thursday nights only brought rough customers to Neon Street bars. Archie loved that. She knew could not die so she loved to look for trouble. She parked her car at a meter and payed entirely in pennies which she kept in her glove compartment solely for the purposes of being petty in times like these. It was tedious, sure, but she enjoyed the obscure sense of power it made her feel. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she walked to her destination. The Red Ivy bar had three colorful neon signs in the window. One that depicted a purple scull, one of a reds vine, and a green one that said “Free Wifi”. Archie took a sip from her blood bottle and walked inside.

. The bar was dimly lit and the air smelled like cigarettes. Archie took a deep breath. She loved the scent. It was still fairly early in the evening so the girl had time for a few drinks before she began her search for Marina’s stolen treasures. Archie sat on a bar stool and ordered a piña colada, making sure to specify to the bartender that if the tiny umbrella were to be forgotten, it would be his funeral. A man in a navy suit sat down next to Archie. He was the kind of man, Archie thought, who had an important job and a picket fence kind of life. She was right, of course. The man had three kids whose names all started with the letter J and a golden retriever.

. “You're not the usual crowd,” the man said slyly.

. Archie glared at him. The bartender brought out her drink complete with three tiny umbrellas. Archie thanked the bartender and took a sip. The man sitting next to her laughed at her choice of drink. “You know, most people who come in here at nine o'clock on a Thursday don't order piña coladas.”

. Archie took another sip of her drink and said, “Well, I'm not most people.”

. The man in the suit thought of saying something like “I can see that”, and under normal circumstances he would have. But there was something about this woman that let him know that she wasn't just calling herself different to be charming. She really was different. She glared at him again, this time, staring him right in the eyes, and he was shocked to see that her eyes were red. The man decided to leave the girl alone to drink her piña colada.

. There were other men in The Red Ivy who were not quite as smart as the first. One of these not so smart men was intrigued by the beautiful young woman with pink hair sitting at the bar and bumbled over to sit next to her like a flying craving the sweet nectar of a Venus fly trap. Oblivious to the approaching incident, Archie took her phone out of her jacket pocket and Googled ��UFO Sightings: OREGON’. The truth was, even though Archie did not believe that life on other planets would ever have any interest in visiting Earth, she had no leads and nowhere to start her search for the enigmatic burglars. She was startled when the aforementioned man sat down next to her.

. “What's a pretty lady like yourself doing in a place like this?” he babbled.

. “Whatever I want.” Archie rolled her eyes and continued scrolling through her search results. But the man was relentless.

. “What's so interesting on that phone that you can't talk to me?”

. “I could type literally anything into this search bar and whatever came up would be more interesting than hearing you talk. Leave me alone,” Archie grumbled.

. The man should have walked away then. Instead, he reached over and tried to put his arm around the girl. Archie caught his wrist in her hand. The Venus fly trap had snapped shut. The man’s mistake was irreversible from the beginning. The vampire had left her gloves in the car and her sharp fingernails, painted red, of course, sank into the man’s skin. With out breaking eye contact, Archie used her free hand to take a wad of cash out of her pocket and left it on the bar to pay for her drink. Then, she narrowed her eyes and said: “Let’s finish this outside.”

. The man was startled and tried in vain to shake his arm free of Archie’s grip. She frowned and let go.

. “You're no fun,” she said.

. Archie strutted out of The Red Ivy feeling somewhat defeated in her failed attempt to stir up trouble. As she stood on the sidewalk, however, it became apparent that she had not been defeated after all. A larger shadow eclipsed her own. It was the first man from the bar. The man in the business suit who had criticized her choice of beverage. Archie turned and met his gaze.

. “Who are you?” asked the man.

. This question had been nagging at his mind since their encounter. There was some strange power to the young woman that was unlike anything he could recall or recognize. Archie grinned wider than should have been humanly possible and revealed a row of pointed teeth, not unlike a shark’s, which were immaculately white due to the vampire’s incessant use of Crest 3D White Strips ever since three years prior when she had entered a sweepstakes and won a lifetime supply. Archie turned her head to see the businessman and he took a step backwards in terror but did not run away. His curiosity outweighed his fear and that was his first mistake. The vampire laughed and answered his question with another question.

. “Why don't you come over here and find out?”

. She placed her blood bottle on the ground slowly. The harsh colors of the neon lights cast a soft glow of green and blue on the side of Archie’s face. The man could see her shark-like mouth and glowing red eyes. Most horrifying, however, was the way the woman’s face was beginning to pulse and twist into a new shape. The way her skin rippled made it look like it was made of pale beetles. The man’s stomach lurched. He froze.

. “No?” said the vampire, “I'll just have to go to you, then.”

. Every part of the businessman’s brain was telling him to turn tail and run but his muscles were paralyzed by fear and a bit of intrigue. The man swallowed nervously and began to wish he wasn't so naturally curious. Archie shrugged her off her jacket and it fell to the ground behind her. No use in ruining a perfectly cute bomber jacket. Once her arms were free, Archie’s hands stretched and morphed into a set of horrifying claws. She would need to get a new manicure. Archie walked slowly and stylishly to the petrified man.

. A scream that began in the man’s fearful gut travelled upwards to his mouth, losing confidence along the way so that the only sounds that came out when he opened his mouth was a whimper. His fight or flight response had kicked in and, since his legs would not allow home to run, he would have to fight. The business man suddenly remembered that he was not entirely helpless. He reached a shaking hand into his pocket and dug out a knife, one that was significantly smaller than he had recalled it being, and held it like someone who knew how to use it. And he did. The man had been a marine for a short time. Archie stopped walking to see what the man would do. She was here for a fight, after all, and killing a man on the sidewalk while he quivered in fear wouldn't be much of a fight.

. Archie took another step forward. The man panicked and stabbed the knife blindly into the vampire’s stomach. Blood spilled over the handle of the knife and onto the man's hand, but still, Archie did not react to the pain. Instead, the woman laughed as the blood she had shed flowed in reverse and back into her body. The man's paralysis was cured instantly and he let go of the knife and tried to run in the opposite direction. He didn’t make it very far before Archie’s claw caught him by the collar. The moment the vampire's talons touched the skin on the back of his neck was the most scared the businessman had ever been. He screamed louder and in a higher pitch than he ever had before.

. Just as Archie was about to tear the man apart, the bartender from The Red Ivey came outside to investigate the commotion. Nobody could see the full fight from inside the bar for the same reason vampires did not appear in mirrors. Glass did not work for them in the sense that, not only did they have no reflection in it, but they also could not be seen through windows. It was for this reason that Archie always drove with the windows down. She had heard rumors in the past about vampires who had inadvertently started legends of ghost cars in their respective towns. The bartender expected to find a very drunk man fighting himself on the sidewalk. What he found was much worse.

. Archie let go of the man in the suit and picked up her jacket and bottle. The fight, she decided, was over. She had already effectively terrified two people. The girl’s skin and smile returned to normal and her class's turned back into hands. The bartender and the businessman watched in awe as the woman opened the winged doors of her purple sports car and drove away.

. Dr. Scratch N’ Sniff had been waiting patiently in the passenger seat. He mewed softly. Archie kept driving until she was away from Neon Street altogether. The street three blocks over had a cemetery at the end of it. Nobody would see her there. She stopped her car in front of the graveyard and finally plucked the knife out of her stomach. The stab wound closed on its own immediately but the vampire was still disappointed by the hole in her shirt.

. The moonlight glinted off some shining object on the ground at the gate of the graveyard. It caught Archie's attention. She turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. Upon further inspection, she found the object to be a diamond necklace. One which she recognized. It was among the stolen property from the break in at the manor. Archie picked up the necklace and put it in her pocket. As she was about to turn away, another glittering object, this time, beyond the gate, grabbed her attention. It was a gigantic, gleaming emerald, also stolen from Pinebill Manor. Archie opened the gate and picked up the emerald. She tried her best not to be a cliche of herself. There was just something so typical about being a vampire in a graveyard. It was as if Buffy the Vampire Slayer could appear behind her at any moment.

. “Freeze!”

. Archie turned around and put her hands in the air. It wasn't Buffy. It was a police officer. And he was pointing a gun in her direction. A bullet couldn't kill Archie but it would still hurt terribly and Archie did not feel the need to be both stabbed and shot in the same day. The officer, who had been investigating reports of a trespasser in the cemetery for the second time that month, recognized her from a description given of an assailant in a recently placed 911 call. He arrested Archie. Or, rather, Archie allowed herself to be arrested. She figured it would be more exciting than rooting around the cemetery for Marina’s jewelry.

. Much to the vampire’s malcontent, jail was quite boring and calling Marina to bail her out was humiliating. Marina was not happy with Archie’s carelessness and so took her sweet time in placing the call to the police department. Police Chief Samuel Dominick wanted little more than to interrogate the strange woman with red eyes and pink hair who had been brought in for assault with precious jewels in her pockets. But he knew that Marina Pinebill was not a giant one could take down by force and, in complete honesty, Archie Eligo herself unsettled him.

. When Lady Pinebill finally called, Archie was informed that she was free to leave at her leisure but that her car and all of its contents had been towed to the front gate of the Pinebill Estate. Archie didn't mind walking except that she thought it would be embarrassing to walk home with a hole in her shirt. Her minor concern was placed with a major one as soon as she stepped outside of the precinct into direct sunlight. She cursed Marina under her breath. That prehistoric prune of a woman had waited until daybreak to make her call.

. The burn began as a light simmer, almost like a sunburn, but, as Archie walked, it became increasingly more severe until heat blisters began to form on her skin. The vampire muttered angrily to herself and tried to hold her jacket over her head to block the sun. She wished she had her hat, gloves, and sunglasses. They were much more effective than this. Eventually, the burn from the sun was so damaging that steam began to rise from Archie’s body. An enormous, rainbow colored, yard umbrella shaded the patio furniture of a nearby suburban front yard. So Archie stole it and kept herself in the shade all the way home.

. When she arrived back at the estate, she tossed the umbrella into the bushes and got into her car. Dr. Scratch N’ Sniff was cowered under the passenger seat. Archie opened the door and let him out.

. As soon as Archie walked through the door of her carriage house, her first priority was tending to her injuries. To do this, the vampire filled her bathtub halfway with water and halfway with blood. She added scented lotion for its soothing effects and to make the bath smell good. Archie’s sunburns could be healed only by soaking the damaged area in blood, which she always preferred to water down because she did not like how sticky and thick blood could become after sitting out for a while. She stripped down and slipped into the bath and closed the shower curtain surrounding it. The blood in the bath water soothed and healed her skin in a way that could only be described as cosmically relieving.

. Now, she finally had some time to think. One thing about her investigation nagged her. How and why had Marina’s jewelry ended up in the graveyard? She knew that none of the larger stolen goods could be there because Archie read the obituaries every morning and there had been two deaths since the robbery. Surely someone would have reported a giant, brightly colored portrait of the most feared and despised woman in all of Pinebill, Oregon sitting in the grass at a funeral. She came to the conclusion that the culprit must be the director of the funeral home.

. Archie's keen ears picked up on the sound of careful footsteps. She became entirely still until the intruder was within harms reach. She suddenly pulled back the curtain to reveal Felix Johnson standing in the middle of her bathroom with a crossbow loaded with a wooden stake. Felix screamed a little bit. He had been in the carriage house all night waiting for Archie to come home. After so many years of searching for a hidden lair on the property, he thought he would look in plain sight instead. Archie closed the curtain again.

. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

. “My name is Felix Johnson and I'm a vampire hunter! Come out here and fight me!”

. “Felix, I'm naked. Get lost.”

. “Fine, then I will kill you where you now lay!”

. “That's just bad sportsmanship. Besides, you can't kill me. Every part of me is alive. I'm kinda like The Thing from The Thing.”

. “That's pretty vague.”

. “It's actually very specific.”

. “Are you bathing in blood?”

. “Yeah, its for a sunburn.”

. “Whose is it?”

. “Nobody's…that you know.”

. Felix was swept up by a tidal wave of emotion. First, excitement. After dedicating his life to hunting vampires, he had finally found one. Second, disappointment. Although he was suspicious of the vampire, he knew that she was telling the truth about being entirely unkillable. And lastly, fear. This third emotion was the strongest and Felix realized all at once that he absolutely did not want to be standing where he was. He ran. Much to Archie’s delight.

[undercovermcdfan]

dashes and tallies | Vylance, Hatch Marks AU

prompt: Red tallies appear for every person you’ve loved, black for every person you’ve loved that has died, and a white tally for when you meet your soulmate

a/n: so this takes place in the same universe of hatch marks, except I’m focused on Vylance this time! Don’t worry—if I can finally drag myself from this rut, I wanna make a part 2 to Hatch marks. Also BIG shout out to @crybabytime for not only drawing a fantastic comic based off the first fic (I’m in tears) HERE but being the MVP friend and helping me sort much of the HCs put into this fic??? LIKE??? ur da best & really so amazing thank you

warning(s): mention of other relationships (garrance), alcohol consumption, adult themes, again me crying because this au is so cheesy??

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“H-hello? Hello? Uh… um, Vylad? This is Laurance!”

Part of Vylad, a part deep deep deep down wished he hung up the phone the moment he heard the desperate voice that wasn’t his brother on the other end. A part overruled by common courtesy to stay on the line despite the panic setting in and his heart still for but a moment.

Garroth always been a good brother—not the outstanding sort but he wasn’t cruel like their third brother, the middle one, Zane. Simply just a guy who saw life without much worry. And though he loved the elder brother dearly, sometimes…

Sometimes…

Garroth’s antics led to situations like this and Vylad questioning why he went out of his way to help.

You know why, his thoughts shot back, his subconscious pushing back as the memory of Laurance’s thankful when Vylad agree that yes, he’ll fetch his drunken brother from causing more havoc at Dante’s birthday bash, floated into mind. Leaning his head against the cool glass of the uber car’s window, he watched as the quiet residential streets of where his apartment build bled to the lively heart of the city, bright lights and all.

Frankly, there’s a special hell for people like him but he didn’t have the luxury of waiting from his own passing, no, whatever gracious being that watched over him from above must’ve thought his suffering was amusing.

To find attraction in another person was a natural occurrence—and for the longest, Vylad thought he must’ve been one of the lucky individuals who didn’t have to go through it romantically. He seen the trouble love could cause, and as the years went, his skin went unblemished with a marking. Acquaintances never crossed the threshold into friendship, and because his life enveloped by the overprotective mother and embarrassed step-father, he never sought out opportunity to find any meaningful connections.

All this, living in apartment without Garte’s heavy breathing down his neck or his mother’s insistence he kept close, with Garroth who went from a distant brother that would appear every now and again between extracurricular activities to being as much of best friend a sibling could be… this was new.

They met Laurance through Cadenza, the heiress to the Zvahl corporation—a new competition that even made Garte sweat in nervousness. From Joh’s innovative and charming persona that wooed many sponsors away from the Ro’meaves Inc. to the brilliant, outspoken daughter who already gracing business magazine covers to… the mysterious adopted son who kept out of the spot light and rumored buzzed among the old money elites his family surrounded themselves with. Cadenza was bright-eyed, beautiful girl, but Garte muttered under his breath, “Watch yourselves. She’s a cunning one.” She worked the party, occasionally returning to them with a gleaming smile and checking in, sweet compliments rolling off the tongue.

The third work around, she brought him.

Fiddling with his cufflinks and before they stepped into ear shot, Vylad could tell the two were in a heated discussion. To this day, he wondered: did he share a distain for his family? Did he hate the outfit he wore? Or the party in general? The mystery man Cadenza brought looked out of place, uncomfortable.

And it’s when he felt that heart racing, tied-tongue feeling.

“Hello.” A bright smile not unlike Cadenza’s, though more forced, as he offered an outreach hand to Garroth, who was just as much swept up in the man’s grace, “I’m Laurance.”

His hand was warm, firmly shaking Vylad’s after Garroth and a simple nod towards Zane when his apathetic brother opts to grunted a “hello” rather than taking his hand.

After the greeting, a brief formal chat, Laurance was eventually lead away by his oldest brother. It’s then when Vylad realized there was an almost pull… a small flicker of jealousy of wishing he stepped up first and did so. But that was out of character, he was the quiet, well behaved step-child of Garte who held nothing in power but his name, not the privileged heir that was Garroth.

Vylad sighed.

A few days after that fancy dinner, Garroth pulled him aside, “Hey, Vylad could you clear out for an afternoon? I’m inviting Laurance over and…”

To his credit, Laurance and Garroth have been dating for months now and apart from a few run ins here and there, once in their apartment lobby and once after Laurance dropping off Garroth off, the two sharing a parting kiss before they said their goodbyes, Vylad steered clear of Laurance.

In person.

Sadly, online, it was a different story. He never really found much use with keeping up with any of his accounts but after the dinner and a moment of weakness, he accepted Laurance’s obligatory friend request.

Some days he thought, his actions might border strange—he’d never like a photo or post Laurance made, but would linger for a thoughtful moment or two. Eyes lit up when the other mentioned a show he enjoyed, or funny pictures he taken, or the more candid pictures he retweeted from his friends and…

“Garroth has rather good taste, doesn’t he?” Zianna, his mother, exclaimed excitedly once to him as she scrolled through Laurance’s profile. She claimed it was her ‘motherly’ duty to just see what kind of men her precious eldest got involved with but Vylad knew it was her being nosy without directly pestering his brother.

Though—if they were talking from an aesthetically pleasing point of view, Vylad readily agreed Laurance did look good. He struck as a natural at posing in his candid picture and the sort of smile that warm, easy, infectious if you saw him in real life. The kind of smile Vylad liked to see more in person, if… he ever worked the courage.

Well, unless I commit to this plan of getting in and getting out as fast as possible… this could be my chance to talk to him. He fiddled with his scarf, readjusting it to properly cover his neck. I should stop thinking like this. Laurance… is Garroth’s… We aren’t high school rivals, no need to boyfriend steal.

Even if I saw him first. Even if he might be my…  

He paused.

I can’–

“Sir,” the gruff voice of the driver impatiently grunted, “your destination. Sir.”

Vylad sighed, reaching into his wallet.

“VYLAD,” Dante managed to startled him despite the loud pulsating music that filled the small space of Dante’s apartment. With glasses that lit up in the dark, a skewed birthday hat and stripped down to a tank top and… swimming shorts? the extroverted blue haired man all but threw himself at Vylad the moment he saw him, “DUDE I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO MAKE IT.”

Vylad grimaced and glanced around. Not many familiar faces—Lucinda, a popular fashion guru who slung an arm around a pretty redhead girl, a woman named Katelyn who he remembered seeing in Zane’s office (never happily) sulking on a couch and… he sighed when he saw a familiar Zenix and Sasha dart through the crowd, a third person hot on their tail as the two laugh obnoxiously.

Not exactly my scene. “I wasn’t planning to. I’m here to pick up my brother—have you seen him?”

Dante furrowed his brow, “WHAT?”

“My brother. Garroth? You know, MY BRO— “

Dante held up a hand, cutting him off as he shook his head, “You don’t need to yell, I—okay, sorry. Forgot, bad sense of humor,” he rolled his eyes, just as Vylad’s stare held its scowl, “You can find Garroth… um. Actually, last I saw him, he was hanging in the hot tub with Aphmau but… okay wait, follow me!”

This was tiring.

This was terrible.

Following Dante through the crowd, he continued find words to describe how this party, disco lights reflecting pretty colors and the room felt almost suffocating with the strange smell in the air—

Oh. Well there goes for avoiding Laurance.

Dante tapped Laurance’s shoulder, throwing an arm around him for side hug as he leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Beside him, a white-haired man almost as tall as Laurance’s lanky stature fidgeted with a red cup for a moment before sharing a look with Laurance and striding off in direction of Katelyn on the couch.

“Vylad, this is Lau— “

Laurance, shoving Dante’s face away, and turning enough to properly see Vylad, he gives a bright smile, more genuine than the one when they first met. “We already met. Now scram, dude—I heard K.C. was looking for you.”

“Ehhh,” Dante hung off Laurance’s shoulder, pouting, “Why do you treat me like this? Before Travis and Garroth, I use to be your main man!”

“And you still are. Just need you to be less clingy,” he managed to detached from Dante’s grasp and with a defeated look, the birthday boy conceded his defeat.

Not without the dramatics though, “Whatever. You still owe me an after-Birthday hangover breakfast tomorrow morning. I’m getting that breakfast burrito supreme!” And like a bumbling gazelle, Dante was gone.

In that moment, Vylad was acutely aware of a few things. His heart loud beats could drown out the music. Laurance was just as tall as his memory serves him. And the tongue-tied feeling wasn’t a one-time thing.

“Vylad, I’m so sorry for this short notice,” Laurance started, digging his pocket to pull out a familiar black smart phone, “Garroth… is somewhere. He told me something a hot tub and kind of handed me this and his wallet.”

Dropping the phone and case in his hands, Vylad pocketed them immediately, before shrugging, “It’s no issue. It’s better if I take him home before he really does something stupid…” Vylad paused, noticing the look in Laurance’s eyes, “…What did my brother do?”

“A lot of things. I have things to explain and apologize for to my sister and her girlfriend type things,” Laurance shook his head, massaging his temple before giving a sheepish smile, “No offense. To your brother, I mean. Garroth is usually such a… great guy. I guess alcohol is his vice.”

Vylad frowned, concerned for what his brother might’ve done rivaled concerned what his brother might’ve done to Laurance. Or said. Or whatever reason that caused this sour expression. “I apologize. He’s never was one to handle his drink.” Vylad couldn’t handle holding contact with Laurance for so long, his gaze connected for a moment with those baby blues before scanning the crowd.

“Or bottle, for the matter.” Laurance muttered, voice muffled by the music.

“What?”

He waved his hand, before resting it on his shoulder, “Never mind me. I’m a bit on the tipsy side of things but… I think it’s time for us to find that heir and drag him home before he breaks something else.”

“Break something else?” Vylad tilted his head suspiciously and in worry, looking up at Laurance.

Laurance, on the other hand, cracked a wide smile, teeth and all before pressing his lips together with his pointer finger, “Shh. I left some cash in Dante’s room for what Garroth broke—not even Dante know it’s broken yet,” his blue eyes sparkled with mischief, “I’m trusting you to keep my secret.” Because he lowered his voice, Laurance had to lean closer and Vylad could only jerk his head up and down, nodding Yes, not trusting his words.

Satisfied with the answer, Laurance grabbed his hand, pulling him deeper into the crowd— “Usually it would be faster to separate and find him but Dante sometimes invite shady people. Or Zenix might pick you as a pickpocket victim. Either way, just stay close.”—and again, Vylad could only nod yes, stumbling in after him.

“B-But, Laurance,” Garroth whined, his arms looped around him in a similar manner Dante did to Laurance before. Yet Laurance looked unbothered. “Please. Don’t… do that.” Garroth poked at Laurance’s cheek for his frown.

“Garroth, I—okay, fine,” Laurance said defeated, as he combed through his boyfriend’s blond hair, “This’ll be a conversation for tomorrow.”

“Yes. My win.”

Vylad stopped watching in the mirror as the two proceed to share another kiss, sinking lower in his front seat. He questioned whether letting Laurance ride back to the apartment was a good idea—but one look, the kind that conveyed ‘I’m tired of this’ coupled with Garroth’s clinginess, Vylad conceded quickly.

Watching the street lights go by, he could only think of one thing: fuck.  

The sight was strange, seeing Laurance standing there, squinting at the bottle in hand.

But what made Vylad hesitate from going back into his room and instead take a brave step forward was because at that moment, even with his drunken brother sleeping not so quietly on the couch… Laurance looked… lonely?

“Um…” Vylad licked his lips, gesturing to the bottle in the other’s hand, “I thought you said you drank enough for tonight.”

Laurance laughed, a soft one, settling on the floor and patting the space beside him. “Nope. I’m sure I said I was tipsy… but our little search party for the prince in distress kind of sobered me up,” he paused, leaning against the couch with his expression falling into something more complicated, “And after tonight…? I need it.”

Vylad settled beside him, eyeing the bottle still. It wasn’t one of their finer ones, and it wouldn’t be a reason to pry the bottle away from Laurance but he felt off. Yet, he didn’t speak up as Laurance cracked it open and took a small swig.

Silence settled between them, Vylad sneaking glancing at Laurance and Laurance staring blankly ahead. It was only broken when he suddenly offered Vylad a sip with “a penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, um,” Vylad quickly shook his head, “No, no. I only drink when I have to. For, um, business dinner stuff.”

“Smart boy,” Laurance grinned at him, lifting the bottle again and squinted it, “this taste fine, but I understand why, after seeing what happens to your brother.”

“What happened at Dante’s was nothing to what I heard he done in college,” Vylad shrugged leaning his cheek against the couch as he stared at his resting brother that occasionally tossed and turned, “The frats would throw wild parties and… Garroth is a little too gullible at times.”

Laurance snorted, before taking another swig effortlessly, “After tonight, I believe you completely.”

“And you’re right.”

He gave Vylad a raised brow. “You were right because Garroth is probably the reason why I… don’t casually drink.”

Seeing the genuine smile, then the laughter that followed warmed him in a way he couldn’t described, and he was right; Laurance’s smile was infectious. He could feel the corners of his lips lifting, then chuckling.

“Aw man! I mean,” Laurance as he started to calm down, he shot him an amused look, “sometimes the most fun drunks are the serious ones, you know. And if not, if you had his carefree dancing skills…” Laurance whistled, raising the bottle, “Man, you’d be the life of the party.”

“Really?” Vylad with a deadpanned look.

“Okay,” Laurance had a playful smile, lowered the bottle and turning more towards him, “my sense of ‘life of the party’ might be a little skewed.”

He continued with the look.

“Okay…” Laurance raised his hands in defeat, “I mean, at least he had fun at the end of the day.” Vylad nodded, content with his win and soon, he finds conversation flowed easily between them.

The two traded facts about each other, as their conversation turned from Garroth to each other, and Laurance admitting his curiosity.

“You barely use your accounts, nor ever online.”

“It’s mostly for my freelance work and how people can easily contact me.”

“Freelance? Don’t work for your dad?”

“Yes and no— “

And their discussions continued like for a long while.

Vylad grown a little confident as Laurance put away the bottle, and find himself scooting closer and closer. Their voices grew soft, cushioned by the need of sleep but their want to talk. It wasn’t long until the two were within each other’s space rather than starting off with him by Garroth and Vylad by the end of the couch.

The only noise now that disturbed the air was Garroth’s snore. While minutes ago, Vylad felt a second away from sleep, now sat attentive and hands balled in his lap as Laurance, eyes half lidded, continue to lean close.

So close.

What are you doing? He thinks to himself, as Vylad tilted his face up, almost entranced by how Laurance looked and suppressed the chill that ran down his back as a finger trailed down his jaw, cupping his chin.

Vylad wasn’t well versed in social cues but he knew when a kiss was coming. The way their bodies shifted closer, the way weight Vylad didn’t know existed lifted from his shoulder, and he wondered if Laurance could hear his thundering heart.

He closed his eyes and he started to lean in.

What are you doing?

“W-wait,” a hand stops his moving in, and Vylad’s eyes fly open, cheeks flushed red flushed even redder. “I… I can’t do this, Vylad. Your brother. He’s right there.”

“…” Vylad recoiled even more, unable now to meet with Laurance’s eyes but the other still attempted to touch his hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean to lead you on. I just,” Laurance then touched his cheek in a gesture to look up but Vylad away further, rising to his feet, “This is my fault. I’m so—wait, Vylad, wait!”

He always prided himself of his quickness and while he felt nothing but shame at this moment, Vylad was already in his room by the time a slightly swaying Laurance could get to his feet.

“Vylad, I’m sorry!” was the last he heard before he locked the door.

Leans against it, almost straining to hear the other side of the dense door. No movement. Not a peep.

His hands lifted to his neck, before tearing off the scarf his wore over it. Vylad walked over to his mirror and craning it slightly, he checked the tally on it.

White.

He wondered if it was normal for it to feel like it’s tingling, the pull to Laurance was still there. He felt… regretful more than angry. And because of that, he felt more shame with how he regretted not going in for the kiss, to kiss his brother’s boyfriend, without a shed of remorse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, settling on his bed before flopping back.

“Well I guess avoiding him has gotten way easier,” he mumbled to himself, while Vylad didn’t see Laurance’s face, he’d imagine something close to guilt and heartbreak for Garroth’s sake, that he almost…

He squeezed his eyes tighter.

What was I thinking?

Laurance leaned his forehead against the door, his hand on the handle.

The moment it slammed shut and the audible click of the locking mechanism… Laurance felt the plead die at his throat.

Vylad looked… almost in pain the moment his eyes opened and realized what they were about to do. Humiliation. It was a gut reaction, for the last second before they could press their lips together, he remembered Garroth.

His… well, his soon to be ex, boyfriend. After tonight.

During the night, since the moment Garroth admitted the reason why he hadn’t shown Laurance his tallies was because… he didn’t have a white one to match Laurance’s white. He never directly lied to Laurance’s face, saying he did have a red one, to match Laurance’s red but.

That would explain so much.

He remembered his father once described, finding your soulmate, there was a natural pull to each other.

And Laurance was fond of Garroth, given different circumstances, he’d even say he’d grow to love the blond. But as he returned to the couch, he cask a look the resting blond as he sorts through his thoughts.

He felt connected to Vylad within a few hours versus the months he spent time with Garroth.

A pull.

He would even come to say, the pleasure of getting to know the quiet Ro’meave felt more fun than he had at the party. And the near kiss…

Laurance touched his own lips, frowning. They looked really soft. I wonder if they feel the same.

He glanced towards the hallway Vylad ran down, still frowning. I’m so screwed. What have I done?

Laurance didn’t know for sure.

But he wanted to know; the night of the dinner, he only gotten two new tallies. A red and a white.

If Garroth wasn’t the white…

“I hope I’m not wrong.”

[austenmarriage]

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Third Time's the Charm: More Fun Facts about Austen

Though this may not be as exciting as Sheldon’s “Fun With Flags” segments on The Big Bang Theory TV show, today’s episode features the “Third Time’s the Charm Quiz” with questions about Jane Austen’s life and times. (It’ll also be the last quiz, so all those who stress over test-taking can look forward to a quiet future.)

For those who want to revisit the previous torture, here is Quiz #1 and here is Quiz #2. (Hint: Each will help with one question today.)

Like John and Fanny Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility winnowing their contribution little by little to their stepfamily, the number of questions has been reduced in each quiz, but by and large the questions have gotten harder. Today’s quiz may tax your Regency knowledge. It pertains to people and events current during Jane Austen’s time, but not all of them popped up directly in her novels. Let’s call these the graduate-level questions. However, two questions relate to the earlier quizzes, and one is included for extra credit. As before, there’s no rhyme or reason to topics or order. The answers appear below each question to avoid vertigo from excessive scrolling.

Rating scale:

0-5: You’re the bumbling Mr. Collins of Austenia.

6-9: You’re Edward Ferrars/Edmund Bertram: solid but dull.

10-12: You’re Henry Tilney, learned on topics from muslin to crown lands to Udolpho.

13-15: You’re Liz Bennet, fiercely demolishing all comers.

The quiz:

Why were both the French and English slow to let women fly in hot-air balloons?

Both the French and the English hesitated to let women ascend in a balloon for fear of the effects of altitude on their “delicate” bodies.

Beyond the possible biological effect of altitude on women, what was the major fear about women “going into space”?

Just as it was considered improper for an unengaged man and woman to have private carriage rides, society was concerned about the morality of an unchaperoned couple in a hot-air balloon. One can only wonder what Elinor’s reaction would have been in Sense and Sensibility if Marianne and Willoughby had soared alone into the wild blue yonder. (She would not have looked on benignly as she does when Willoughby brings Marianne flowers, in the above photo from the 1995 movie!)

Even before they read the newspapers that came from London, how would ordinary citizens know of a British victory in the wars with France?

To celebrate British victories, the coaches were decorated. At night, candles and lamps were lit, and formal illuminations were held in large towns.

Lord Nelson won the major sea battle at Trafalgar, off the Spanish coast, that ended the threat of a French invasion. How was hero-worship for him expressed?

Egyptian-style ladies’ hats celebrated his earlier victory on the Nile; special needlework stitching was created; and housing developments were named for him. Jane Austen satirizes the commercialization of military victories in her last, unfinished novel, Sanditon. A real-estate developer laments his having named a building Trafalgar House because “Waterloo is more the thing now.” However, he’s keeping Waterloo in reserve for the name of a housing crescent (a semicircle such as in Bath).

What was the major cause of death in the French army during Napoleon’s catastrophic winter retreat from Moscow in 1812?

The French suffered hideous losses from typhus as well as from defeat in battle.

What likely most antagonized the British public over the behavior of His Royal Highness as both Prince Regent and later as King George IV?

Though his philandering and his personal attacks on his wife, Caroline, riled many citizens, his worst fault was extravagant spending at a time when England was heavily in debt from the war. Repayment of his personal debts earned its own line item in England’s budget. When the Prince Regent, now George IV, died, the Times of London remarked that “there never was an individual less regretted by his fellow-creatures.”

What were the political ramifications and the unintended consequences of the tax on hair powder during the Napoleonic wars?

A tax on hair powder in the early 1800s made it possible to tell political affiliation at a glance. Tories wore wigs, paying the hair-powder tax. Whigs, who opposed the war, stopped wearing wigs to avoid the tax. By the time the government reduced the tax, a more natural hairstyle had become fashionable. This marked the start of the Romantic era, when hair could be as wild as the heath.

Though Janeites recall the intelligence, wit, and character of her father and brothers, what medical problems did the males in Jane Austen’s family suffer?

Austen had an uncle and a brother who suffered the same serious mental and physical handicaps, apparently genetic. Both were reportedly “deaf and dumb.” Both lived away from the family. The son of her cousin Eliza died of epilepsy. More distant male family members also suffered serious neurological problems.

Before England ended the slave trade in 1807, how much did slaves cost in the West Indies and other British possessions?

The average selling price for a healthy adult male was about £50; women and children were less. It was usually cheaper to work a slave to death and buy a new one than it was to feed and care properly for a slave.

Several Austen family members, including Jane, were abolitionists, or at least no fans of slavery. Did Britain’s 1807 abolition act end slavery?

No. In the U.S., “abolition” usually meant the end to slavery, which did not begin to occur until 1863. In England, “abolition” meant only the end of the slave trade—the capture and sale of slaves in Africa. The hope was that the end to the slave trade would lead to better treatment of existing slaves. Both sides of the argument thought that the end of the slave trade would eventually end slavery itself. After the legal end to the slave trade in 1807, the British government did little to enforce the ban until 1811, when violation of the act was made a felony.

Two generations of Austen naval officers—her brothers Frank and Charles and their self-named sons—intercepted slave ships.

England did not abolish slavery until six months after the death of the great abolitionist William Wilberforce in July 1833. The end to slavery was phased in over several years, beginning in 1834. Slave owners received twenty million pounds in recompense.

Does Jane Austen ever touch upon the slave trade in her novels?

Yes, a surprising number of times. In Mansfield Park, the Bertram family’s wealth comes from a sugar plantation in Antigua. The heroine, Fanny Price, brings conversation to a halt when she asks about the slave trade. In Emma, both Jane Fairfax and Mrs. Elton make a passing reference to it. Mrs. Elton’s remark is hypocritical. She claims that her family, which has likely been involved in the slave trade, is “rather a friend to the abolition.” In Persuasion, Mrs. Smith’s estate is tied up in the West Indies, meaning a slave-based business. In her barely begun novel Sanditon, Austen introduces a wealthy “half mulatto” teenage girl. The wealth would have come from her white parentage, almost certainly a slave business. It’s unclear whether Miss Lambe would have become a major character.

What were the most dramatic changes to transportation during Jane Austen’s lifetime?

Steamboats and railroads entered service in England in 1812, though railroads did not become commercially feasible until 1825.

What was an obvious marker of the huge disparity of wealth in England during Jane Austen’s lifetime?

The cost of housing. The finest houses in London rented for £750 a year—more than what Jane Austen earned in her lifetime from writing.

Why did Jane Austen’s cousin, Eliza de Feuillide, give up her carriage in 1797?

The major reason was a new tax on carriages to support the war against France. These taxes would have affected all the wealthy in Austen’s novels, not only for carriages but for sporting horses. In December 1797, Eliza, who was soon to marry Jane’s brother Henry, complained: “These new Taxes will drive me out of London, and make me give up my Carriage.”

What Austen relative narrowly escaped hanging or banishment to Australia?

Jane Austen’s Aunt Leigh-Perrot was acquitted of stealing a card of lace from a shop in Bath. Though the theft may have been a setup by the store proprietors, Aunt Leigh-Perrot had a reputation for kleptomania. Her own lawyer questioned her veracity. Another case against her, for stealing a potted plant, was dismissed when a witness conveniently left town.

For extra credit:

Where did “bobbies,” the nickname for London police, originate?

English policemen are known as “bobbies” after Robert Peel, who created the first English police force, in London, in 1829. Early on, they were also called “peelers.” Peel served in Parliament almost nonstop from 1809 until his death in 1850. A protégé of Lord Wellington and a moderate Tory, he nonetheless supported many liberal reforms that kept the country from coming apart. These included Catholic emancipation in 1829, the voting reforms of 1832, the end to slavery in 1833, and child-labor reform in 1833. Because of the Great Famine in Ireland in 1845, he broke with the Tory Party to help end the Corn Laws, which had kept grain prices artificially high for more than thirty years.

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The Marriage of Miss Jane Austen, which traces love from a charming courtship through the richness and complexity of marriage and concludes with a test of the heroine’s courage and moral convictions, is available from Amazon and Jane Austen Books.