#frustrations honestly since this is a space divorced from my real life for the most part

[snekdood]

i kinda think im not as bad as some paranoid strangers on here seem to think

[whimsicallyreading]

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Love Doctor ~ L.M.

A/n: YOOOOOOOOO I kind of forgot about these movies LOL I had so much rewatching the first movie to get in the mood for this.

Request: “If you know the character well enough could you do a Leonard McCoy x male reader where the reader is constantly visiting medbay because he just constantly gets hurt and the nurses start to think “is here really hurt of is he just here to see McCoy” so they confront the reader and he’s like “n-no what are you talking about??” Nurses trying to get them together ensue” by @sheepfather​

Word Count: 3700+

Masterlist

They say that nothing compares to the wrath of a woman scorned.

Well, they hadn't met Y/n yet.

"Are you INSANE?"

Leonard "Bones" McCoy was a great doctor, and had long since been an even better friend to recently made Captain James T Kirk of the Enterprise. With all the titles and fancy stuff aside, Bones knew a thing or two about fear. He had watched everything taken from him when his wife, many years, divorced him and drained him of every penny she could. He had faced a threat from the future most recently who's goal was to wipe the solar system of any species other than his own. He had watched his long time friend almost die. A lot. Like, A LOT. So many times it wasn't even funny and he had almost strangled the man himself when everything settled again. He had faced death himself once or twice though and in the end everyone was safe so he let it be. The point was, he had faced and conquered fear. He should be able to handle it.

Watching Y/n storm up to him filled him with more fear than he had faced looking at even Death itself.

Y/n was stern faced and tense. "Hey there," Bones greeted, ready to get lectured.

Instead of yelling, Y/n did something Bones didn't expect. He took Bones in his arms, hugging him desperately. Bones felt his surprise fade and embarrassment take over. Not because he was one of those people who didn't believe in affection between friends or men, but because he had a gigantic crush on Y/n and the feeling of the man holding him made him feel like a teenager again. He was an idiot, honestly. Good god man, he was a grown adult!

Yet, when Y/n held him at arm's length, Bones was blushing. "You didn't even call me when you got back. I had to hear about your little adventure from the news! From Jim of all people!"

Bones flinched. He had been busy since he'd gotten back. It had only been a few days and there had been so much going on... He didn't think it would have upset Y/n this much. The men were friends, having met a while back through Bones' now ex wife actually. Before he was married to her, Y/n had been a friend of a friend to her. When they'd gotten divorced, Y/n was there for him. Ever since they'd stayed friends, but as time passed Bones has recognized his feelings for Y/n had been... different. Especially when he became friends with Jim, he realized that how he felt wasn't normal for two close friends. He'd never had the confidence to take a shot and as Y/n tried his hand with other women, Bones wrote it off and assumed his chanced were kaput.

The look in Y/n's eyes right now though spoke of panic. Care much more than just one friend to another. It was moments like this that let Bones dream. He tried to put his own feelings down. Y/n didn't have a lot of friends or family. Bones was one of the few people he still had left after a hard life that had left him almost entirely alone. Of course he'd be worried about losing one of those people.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just been super busy-"

Y/n scoffed and rolled his eyes, cutting the other man off. "I hear you're allowed calls every once in a while." Bones gave him a confused look. "On the Enterprise, Bones! Come on- you're going back out there and if you're not going to tell me shit, then I'm going to demand you set up a call system so that every time you land you have me on the line dialing. I want it to be habit, do you understand?"

Bones couldn't hold back a smile. He tried to play it off as teasing, but his whole body felt warmer. "Oh come on, I'll be fine." His voice was soft.

"You better be." Y/n sighed, seeming to have calmed down. "Look, I just- I get it. Just let me know you're okay next time before I hear the news and go full panic mode, okay?"

Scoffing softly, Bones offered a, "Okay, mom."

Y/n smiled and the world got a little brighter. "You're an idiot." Then he turned and began to walk away. Bones watched, his smile coming in full steam now that he was alone.

Except... he wasn't. It was that second he remembered that there were other people in the Med Bay at that moment. Nurses mostly, but patients too. Every single pair of eyes was staring at him. All of them were amused and accusing. Knowing. Playful. He hardened immediately, scowling back at them. "Okay show's over, get back to work." He turned away and everyone smiled.

Idiots indeed.

-

"Are you insane?" This time it came from Bones and Y/n was on the receiving end.

Y/n wasn't going to take the lecture like Bones had though. "If you're going to be facing death all the damn time, I might as well be here to watch your back. I can't stand staying at home while y-" he cut off, stalling a second as his brain realigned. "As my two closest friends set off into the great space and throw their lives around like they mean nothing!"

Bones grunted in frustration. "Y/n, you're working as a mechanic."

"A damn good one too!" Y/n threw back. "I'm the King of repairs, and it seems you guys need someone like that on deck. You have the greatest captain, the best second in command-"

"A stretch," Bones grumbled.

"Amazing pilots and a mechanical genius who advanced beaming an insane amount. But even geniuses need help, and while he's a great mind, I'm great with my hands." Y/n rose said appendages, wiggling his fingers. "Plus it doesn't matter. Scotty was more than happy to have me on board and pushed for it himself. Went straight tot he Captain and everything. Jim was more than happy to have me aboard. That's it. I'm coming and you can't stop me."

A long, soft sigh escaped Bones then. "Fine, but if you get ANY injuries, you come to me directly do you understand? This stuff is dangerous."

Just then Y/n got a huge, shit eating grin on his face. "I was planning to, Doctor." Something about how he looked when he said it made Bones both nervous and excited. When they parted ways, Bones tried to not let the moment of seclusion allow his mind to wander too much.

-

"I just burned my hand," Y/n huffed impatiently. "Scotty needs me back, Bones. Just bandage it or something."

Bones tugged Y/n's hand closer by the wrist, glaring at him. "You're being too careless! My god Y/n sit still! You're whinier than Jim." That got Y/n to be quiet. Which in turn made Bones struggle not to laugh.  After all, who would want to be compared to Jim Kirk in whininess? Even though he really didn't complain all that often, Y/n and Bones had a running joke that he was secretly a nine year old girl. Simply because it bothered him.

In the moment of silence, Y/n got the opportunity to really look at Bones. He watched quietly as Bones carefully applied an oily cream that made the stinging pain go away. It was soothing and cold; a huge relief. The lapse of pain allowed him to take a second to admire the features of the man tending to him. The smile lines that were hidden because he liked to be grumpy and sassy, but which showed every time he even cracked the tiniest of smiles or smirks. The deep color of his brown eyes and how the concentrated with unbreakable focus. The line of his jaw, hard as his teeth locked together. He had a small scar above his left eyebrow. It was something he'd never seen before. Perhaps he'd gotten it more recently... The curve of his nose drew his eyes straight to his lips.

Only then did Bones finish, of course, and as he looked over Y/n tried to look casual and as if he hadn't been checking Bones out. Which he most definitely had been. "Will that be all, Doc?"

Rolling his eyes, Bones let Y/n's hand fall. "For now. Be more careful."

Y/n hopped down from the bed, grinning widely. "But then what excuse would I have to visit you?" He laughed afterward to play it off as a joke, but there was a false tone to it. A truth in his words overcame the chuckle, so Y/n headed out quickly. Unfortunately it left a rather speechless Bones alone before he could come up with something to reply, and a bunch of smirking nurses all looking at each other with looks that spelled trouble.

-

When Y/n came in limping, Bones thought it would be for something more real than tripping and falling down stairs. The injury had seemed legitimate until only a few hours later Y/n was spick and span- even though Bones hadn't done more than ice it for ten minutes.

When Y/n had come holding his arm and wincing every time someone touched it, Bones was there dutifully even though it was only from slamming it in a door. He wrapped it up and gave Y/n something to help the healing and pain. In a few days he was perfectly fine, even though Bones had expected a few weeks of soreness at the very least.

It got only more ridiculous from there. From smashed fingers and headaches and sore throats and itchy eyes and sore muscles, Y/n was coming into the Med Bay for help from Bones once every few days. It was a record. Even when there was nothing going on, Y/n found increasingly creative ways to get hurt and end up needing some kind of help and attention. Bones took the opportunity with only minimal griping about Y/n's carelessness. To be fair, he was probably trying very hard to enjoy Y/n's company rather than focus on the fact that Y/n was rarely if ever sick and had a habit of being very careful. In severe situations, he was always the one with the least amount of damage. It seemed that he was prone for small accidents and that his luck magically returned every time it counted. Not that anyone was complaining, but it was rather odd.

Or, more fittingly, obvious. Everyone but Bones was seeing right through Y/n. One day the nurses finally decided to intervene.

Nurse Avery began the casual prodding. "I'm sorry that Dr. McCoy wasn't available to help you today."

"It's fine," Y/n dismissed, even though he was obviously very disappointed.

Avery nodded. "You two seem to be very close," she continued. This time her overly casual tone was overlapped with a pointed look, but both only made Y/n confused.

"Well, we've been friends for years. Even before he and Jim were," Y/n offered.

The nurse nodded her head, but her smirk said that she knew something. Or had assumed something. Or that what Y/n had said fed some sort of theory maybe? Y/n wasn't sure. "And how many years have you been clumsy?"

That made Y/n nervous. It was an odd question to ask, unless they knew the real reason he was in here so often. But surely that wasn't possible. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what she means," Another nurse, Simon, teased. He rolled his eyes, an amused smile curving his parted lips. "If your blush had anything to say."

Nurse Amy giggled. They were both doing other things but it seemed their attention was on the conversation. Even Nurse Lyro spoke to them now as they treated a patient. "We never see you in here after a big battle. And we all know that you're one of very few that is careful enough not to get hurt during catastrophes, which is odd since you're normally in the middle of it and not hiding like the others."

Y/n's frown wiped the smiles off their faces. "It's because I'm a coward." The nurses exchanged looks with each other. They hadn't meant to upset him. "Are you done?" He looked up at Avery. "With my hand?"

"Yeah," she answered softly. Her own fingers had stilled, resting on top of and below his hand. It had been mostly to keep him in place, but now she let it drop. "Do you-?"

"Thank you for your help." Y/n stood off the table, offering the girl a small smile before leaving the Med Bay. Looks were exchanged between the nurses again.

What had that been about?

-

"Dr. McCoy?" Bones looked over to see Nurse Lyro. They continued when he looked over, giving them his attention. "Have you seen Y/n recently?"

Bones pursed his lips in a frown. "I haven't. Why?"

Lyro shrugged. "Well Avery tended his hand a few weeks ago and we haven't seen him in the Med Bay since, not even for a check up."

It had been three and a half weeks to be precise, and Bones was worried. After seeing Y/n every three or four days, Bones had come into a routine of leaving a looseness in his schedule that would allow him time to tend Y/n. Only a few times did something unpredictable interfere with it which is when the nurses usually took over like last time. But in the last almost month, Y/n hadn't been by even once. Bones saw him occasionally outside of work, but otherwise Y/n made him scarce and the doctor would be lying if he said he didn't miss his friend.

"I'll have to hunt him down once I'm off my shift and make sure he's taking care of himself." Bones gave a short laugh then. "He's probably focused on some project or something. We'll have him back in here in a bit."

Lyro grabbed Bones' shoulder to stop him from leaving. "Last time he was here, we were talking and he said something about being a coward. It seemed to upset him..." They sighed. "I just wanted to make sure our conversation wasn't what upset him."

That seemed to confuse Bones. "A coward?" Lyro shrugged. "Huh. Okay." They shared nods and then parted ways. Right when Bones' shift left, he headed straight for Y/n's room. He knocked on the door a few times before Y/n answered. When he did, the man seemed to be battling between happiness and hurt. It didn't make sense. "Hey Y/n."

"Hi." Y/n leaned against his door. "Do you... want to come in?"

"Sure yeah I'd like that." Y/n moved to open his door more and Bones came inside. When the door closed, Bones turned back so they faced each other. "The nurses wanted me to check on your burn. You haven't been by in a while."

Y/n showed his hand. It looked fine, if only minorly scarred. "It healed nicely. Everyone in the Med Bay is pretty great. It's awesome."

Bones nodded. "I'm glad to hear."

There was a long silence. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Why did you say you were a coward?" It sort of slipped out, far from graceful. "You're always right there by Jim and Spock. You've even stepped in a few times for me, and no matter how crazy something is, you're always willing to do it if it saves someone. How could you think you're a coward?"

Y/n sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Jim is the brave one. He's always risking himself and protecting everyone. He's got all of our backs and cares a lot about what's right. Then there's Spock, and despite how much he tries to seem emotionless so he can appear in control, it's only because he's so smart that he hasn't gotten himself killed from how much he puts himself on the line to protect others. And you... Well, they'd both be super dead without you. Not just how great of a doctor you are either, but because you balance Jim's recklessness and Spock's focus on what's logical and such. You guys are like this unbreakable triangle of perfection where you all watch each other's back and without even one of you the other two would fail. I just... hide behind it. I do what I'm told and hide when I can. Do you know how many times each of your has stepped in when I was too scared to do it? How many times you guys have almost died because I hesitated or sat back or stopped functioning because I'm terrible in high stress situations? Scotty is the one who does all the important stuff. I just help him when he needs me to.He could probably do it without me, honestly. I just feel like the extra piece of an already completed puzzle."

It all came out soft and empty. Defeated. Bones rolled his eyes- he wasn't having any of this. "Do you know how many times Scotty has praised Jim for adding you to his team? You know a lot more about mechanics than he does, even though he's really smart about it. I've CAUGHT him just hitting things to get them to work. You might take more time and effort, but when you fix something it lasts longer than when Scotty does- even though he is better in a high stress situation or whatever." Bones scoffed. "If we're being real, no one is actually GOOD in those situations, some are just better than others. And even then, you know how many times Jim or Spock or I have had to clean up the messes of the other? You say we're like a perfect whatever, but half the time I want to strangle both of them and they each other. It's chaotic and we're all trying our best and because of you, we're doing a LOT better than we would be."

Y/n crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you know why I come by the Med Bay so often?"

"Why?" Bones asked, his tone tired as he expected some new reason why he was pathetic. Perhaps it was that he was too lazy to be careful, or that he was clumsy or easily distracted. Bones had arguments for all of those things.

Unfortunately that's not what Y/n said. "Because I'm in love with you." Bones was stunned into silence, processing what had just been told to him. "I only joined the crew because I hated being away from you. I hate flying and I hate space and confrontation makes me anxious. I'm terrible in combat and even worse at social interactions. I'm awkward and quiet and bad at carrying conversation, so instead of just asking you on a date like a normal person I joined the one place I didn't go, even though I graduated school for it. Do you know why I left?"

"No," Bones answered quietly.

"I was sixteen when I joined my very first crew. I was the head mechanic until one thing went wrong and I almost stranded the whole ship. In space. A very long time from help. Everyone said that I had taken a calculated risk in the face of a surprise attack from a planet that was supposed to be hosting us for a peace conference. I saved everyone or whatever." Y/n shook his head. "I used to be a prodigy. One of the youngest mechanics ever to join Star Fleet. And good at my job too. But I was too... I took too many risks. They rationalized that I was effective, but when I left no one asked about it."

Bones tried to remember any news about Y/n. Anything before he'd joined the Enterprise. "Why don't I know about any of this?"

Y/n chuckled darkly. "Because I was too impulsive and hard to control. I was bad with authority and didn't take anything seriously. Until it was almost too late. I was too young, and they'd taken a risk with letting me go to school and test- let alone join an actual ship. I almost got everyone killed because they took a chance. A chance they repeat, until Chekov. But that was years later and he was both dedicated and intelligent. Focused, and very aware if how important his job was. With me, they'd made a mistake, and they weren't about to let everyone know that."

"Is that why you're always so reserved?" Bones asked.

Nodding, Y/n leaned against the wall behind him. "My ego took a huge hit that day. I still haven;t really recovered." He scoffed at himself. "Now I can't even talk to you. We just hang out occasionally and you talk about your life and I listen. I support everyone, quietly. I can't even ask you out when I see you every other day or something. I just get distracted while I'm working then come to you with my newest injury and then I run away without ever saying anything with my tail between my legs. Like I'm eleven and afraid of cooties. It's pathetic."

Bones was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around this. "And why are you telling me now?"

"Well it's time I was honest. You've asked about my past loads of times, and it's not fair to keep bothering you without telling you why I'm always hovering. For once in my life I'm being both open AND level headed. So that you can see how pathetic I am and reject me officially so we can both move on."

"You're an idiot," Bones spat.

"Well yeah that's what I'm-" But he didn't finish that, because Bones grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, cutting him off. Y/n tensed but as Bones kept kissing him, he had no choice but to melt into him. What was he going to do? Push the other man away? I think the fuck not.

The kiss was earnest. Words that couldn't be found. Something that could only be explained in this way. Bones didn't give a single shit what Y/n had done in his past, or what he thought of himself now. To Bones, Y/n was... amazing, for some reason.

They parted, but Bones held onto him. "My best friend is James T Kirk and you think that you been a free spirit when you were sixteen was going to scare me away?"

Y/n did laugh at that. "You're not in love with Kirk though. You're just friends."

"But I am in love with you," Bones sassed rather firmly. "Got that?"

For a second, all of Y/n's insecurities slipped away from him, and he grinned. "Yeah. Got it."

"Good," Bones grumbled. Then he kissed him again and they got lost each other. The night had only just begun, and on the high of finally releasing all the pent up emotions they'd both been scrambling to keep under control, they finally took the opportunity to let it all go and make up for lost time. And boy did they.

[smythebros]

challenge #54: twinkle lights

Written for SeblaineSundays. 

word count: 1338 Rating: G 

Genre: slice of life? Honestly this is the first time I’ve written fanfiction outside roleplaying and I wanted to do something sweet rather dirty considering I’m known for writing dirty stuff.  Forgive me I’m bad a dialogue and it was like 2am when I wrote this.  Basically just be gentle with me. 

Sebastian and Blaine set up Christmas in Sebastian’s apartment.  Set firmly with @blaine-d-anderson‘s version of the character and in that verse. 

New York at Christmas was always a magical time for the city and it tended to be a tell tale sign wasn’t a proper new yorker if they told you otherwise but despite that simple fact Sebastian had never officially celebrated Christmas in the city, at least not officially in a way most people would.  Every year prior to this one, Sebastian hadn’t bothered to decorate his apartment or even buy a Christmas tree? He wasn’t a grinch by any means but he just had never seen the point if you were gonna take it all down later and between having a few epic parties for Halloween and New Years. It just hadn’t felt practical for his life.

Of course one should never underestimate the impact one Blaine Anderson would have on your life. It was the first Christmas after Blaine and Kurt’s divorce and the first Christmas since Sebastian had run into Blaine at a certain halloween party that had led to them sleeping together and had finally led to them becoming something more of permanent fixtures in each other's life beyond being facebook friends after the years.  It had been an utterly intense night between them but the days and times after Sebastian had felt himself giving more and more space in his life to Blaine, even if they never spoke actual words to what the relationship was. Sebastian had never been particularly good at having that conversation.  He kept telling himself that it was way too soon for Blaine’s whole marriage to be tied down to anyone anyway in any real official capacity. The idea to actually spend Christmas together hadn’t ever been discussed either, it had simply happened. Sebastian had no desire to spend it with his father and Blaine had seemingly been free for the holiday- which, Sebastian suspected might have been a little white lie on his part, but why call him on it?

The snow fell slowly and leisurely outside the large glass walls of Sebastian’s expensive apartment that overlooked central park, you could barely see the sun though the grey and cloudy sky. The sound of jangling lights and a few annoyed, frustrated sounds come from the taller boy as he stood in front of the black synthetic tree that was proudly displayed- if currently naked-  a little ways from him in the corner of the room.  It had been a bit of a back and forth between him and Blaine about what sort of tree to get with Sebastian pulling every para-legal move he could to argue that dragging a real seven foot Christmas tree up to his apartment was a disaster waiting to happen. Who knew that law degree would come in handy for winning such a thing? 

“I’m pretty sure the store sells them like this just to cause misery to everyone everywhere. Bloomingdale’s is secretly a portal to hell, this is literal proof.” Sebastian muttered as his fingers slipped through another tangled loop to try tug them apart as he gazed down at Blaine who was opening the sparkly tinsel in front of him. Any real frustration Sebastian had did seem to melt away at the sight of Blaine dressed in his adorable two piece black silk pajamas looking more like someone out of the 50’s than anyone modern, yet his hair was still gelled in place, apparently Blaine’s gel didn’t a holiday break - not on this one nor any other. 

“It might explain the black Friday lines they have actually.” The shorter boy’s voice floated back at Sebastian as he narrowed his eyes in the air as if he was giving that thought some serious consideration before they fell back onto Sebastian, who was only dressed in a pair of tight black boxers since apparently the idea of any modesty at all was lost on the other. It might have been the total opposite to Blaine’s style but perhaps that was what the attraction was, Kurt felt like someone who was closed off and particular about how everything, including their relationship, was.  Every choice had already been made in Kurt’s head without ever really making a proper effort to include Blaine in any of those choices.  Sebastian was someone who, despite his charming smile and dirty mind actually made an effort to make him feel like he had a metaphorical seat at the table when it came to choices. Even on dumb holiday plans like this. There’s an easy laugh from Blaine as he tilted his head down as Sebastian gave another louder groan as he tugged the end of the lights from the box to only to discover a whole mess of more tangled lights.   Blaine’s fingers curl around some of that silver tinsel as he pushes off the ground to close the distance between himself and Sebastian, his hand raising as he loops the tinsel around the taller man’s neck.  “All right I’m only gonna say this once, Mister Smythe. You gotta breath. Your first Christmas is going great. I mean, short of christmas cookies in the oven it’s kinda perfect but that seemed like a lofty request on my part.” Blaine pointed out as he tilted his head back to meet those piercing green eyes. 

There was a deep sigh from Sebastian as he let the tangle web of twinkie lights drop to the fall on a heap and instead his fingers found Blaine’s hip as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The touch is already so intimate and natural between them, easing the other against him. “I actually have no idea how to make cookies- I feel like that’s a failing on my part.” Sebastian shot back with his usual mischievous look as he gave an easy little click of his fingers before he dropped his head forward with a little brush of his tongue along his lower lip. 

“ Listen, I just...wanted it to be...special. I guess.”  There were about a thousand things left unsaid. Special after Kurt, after everything in high school, special after all missed years from each other's life.  Most days Sebastian always tended to be someone who showed his affection and his love for someone though actions- be it sex or otherwise but he’d never tried something so...big for someone before, if the mile of broken hearts and one night stands that could literally circle the island of manhattan if you lined them up-  and if if didn’t go perfect. What was the point of it in his mind? 

“It is.” The reassurance from Blaine was like a calming balm and like someone had turned on a light in a very dark room all at the same time. Sebastian’s head tilted up to stare down at the shorter boy’s stupidly bright, adorable disney eyes and wide smile. Him and Blaine had shared quite a few kisses during their...undefined time to together but  there was still a lot of firsts that they hadn’t had and has Sebastian leaned forward to sink his lips against the shorter boys, there was another first,  the kiss was deep and indulge but it wasn’t sexual- it was like Sebastian was trying to bottle all those emotions into a single kiss.  It was the sort of kiss that made time stop in movies, the sort of kiss that would make Anne Hathaway leg pop. The sort that made Blaine breathless when it finally ended, even as Sebastian’s forward dropped against his with a small smile. 

“So, when are you gonna let me teach you how to make cookies?” Blaine’s voice danced over at him, full of affection as his hand reached up to cup Sebastian's neck. 

“Well, now we’ve got plans for Christmas day..” Sebastian answered as he felt like the sun was going to explode out of his chest. He never wanted to not have this with the man in front of him.

Not for this Christmas Day, nor any year after. This is what he wanted, and always would.

[trulisthetic]

I had a bad day today. I did something stupid and got in an online argument with someone who told me that Jim and Pam were an unhealthy couple. I told her why I don't think that's the case without insulting her and got shot down anyway. What would you make of it?

This turned into a monster-post. Oops.

First and foremost, I’m really sorry that you had a bad day. My understanding is that that “someone” wasn’t very kind and respectful to you even though you were towards them. You know, the internet is such a wild place. Under the cover of online profiles we create for ourselves we sometimes act in ways we wouldn’t in real life. We forget that there is an actual person on the other end and not a heartless machine. And being on the receiving end of that... well, it sucks. I’m sorry you had to deal with that today.

I get that you feel like you did something stupid - because yes, online arguments don’t often get us anywhere, they only end up frustrating us, even hurting us sometimes. But trust me when I tell you this: If you were respectful and didn’t insult her, then you did absolutely nothing wrong. This wasn’t your fault. They’re the only ones accountable for their behavior. I get that you feel off right now, but really, all you can do from this point forward is; just keep swimming :P 

All that aside, not everyone is going to agree on everything at that is granted. And it is okay. That’s what makes the people that think like us and share our interests so special and beautiful in our eyes, you know? It’s okay if somebody on the internet doesn’t think Jim and Pam are a healthy couple. Maybe they trigger something for them - a reminder of a past relationship that didn’t end well. Or maybe there is no reason for it - this is just the way they view it. All of those are fine, everyone is entitled to an opinion. I would even be interested in hearing them out, because, honestly, I can’t think of how Jim and Pam’s relationship could possibly be considered unhealthy. But from what I understand - and correct me if I’m wrong! It’s just what I got from the way you phrased your question - the person you argued with didn’t really have many points themselves, they were just arguing for the sake of arguing, finding problems when there really weren’t any. And that’s what’s really problematic. When people go out and shout accusations of unhealthy and problematic and abusive relationships, all they do is make a fool out of the REAL problematic and abusive ones. And that’s the true tragedy in all this.

Now onto Jim and Pam themselves. It never even occurred to me that this would be an issue; their relationship being considered ‘unhealthy’.

Since day one, Jim and Pam have always ALWAYS brought out the best in one another. And I believe that anyone who argues on this point in particular has been watching a different show. I mean seriously, they were written this way. Their love was, to its core, written to be of the purest kind. They have a strong base as friends, which is the best foundation you can have in a relationship. And they’ve always been each other’s “person”, since the first season. The one they turn to every time they have a problem, like when Pam is frustrated with Roy, or when Jim dies of boredom. They’re partners in crime, their time together is full of the most awe-worthy combination of mischief and touching moments, and just... joy. Have you seen two people happier to just be with each other’s presence? Have you seen anyone’s eyes light up the way Jim’s does every time Pam “chooses him” when she’s “bored” or when she tells him he has “very nice teeth”? Have you seen on anybody else's face that wide smile (with the tongue peeking between the teeth) that Pam gets every time Jim takes a second too long to choose a jellybean flavor, or buys her a coke for a round of jinx? Those two bring the greatest amount of joy to each other, while doing the smaller, most insignificant things. The only thing that could possibly make them wrong would be if their relationship was toxic.

And Jim and Pam’s relationship is not toxic.

Let's look at some signs of a toxic relationship okay?

It feels bad. All the time. Well. I kinda just went through that. The only times it’s felt bad for them was when they were apart, in season 3 mostly, and then in season 9. And yes, they had marital problems. So, SO many couples do, if not every single one. They handled one situation poorly, and it backfired on them, and they drifted apart. And then they found their way back to each other. At this point, I want to quote one of my favorite pieces of writing, ever. I use it a lot, but it applies here so perfectly, so... @acutelesbian said: “A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.” A while later, she reblogged her own post and added: “I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class. After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort. She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice. Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation. The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with. The divorced ones said they chose to walk away. Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days. I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.” There it is. So. Jim and Pam had some issues during season 9. They didn’t communicate well, they made some poor choices, they didn’t handle the situation they were thrown in very gracefully. And yet they made a choice, the choice to stay and push and fight for their relationship. They went to therapy, together. They opened up, discussed their feelings, communicated, worked out a solution. They chose each other, even though at the time they weren’t each other’s favorite person. They went through a rough patch and came out of it together, stronger than ever. And HAPPY. If that’s not the epitome of a healthy relationship, then I don’t know what the fuck is. Having said all that, I think I also covered these signs of a toxic relationship:

You avoid saying what you need because there’s just no point. 

There’s no effort.

Nothing gets resolved.  So let's move on to the next ones.

You’re constantly braced for the ‘gotcha’. This is for when there’s a trap in every statement or question, and even though everyone makes mistakes, yours are used as proof that you’re too uninvested, too wrong, too stupid, too something. And this is seriously as far from Jim and Pam as humanly possible. They’re seriously the exact opposite of that, always lifting each other up and supporting one another through their mistakes. 

When ‘no’ is a dirty word. “I think I want a wedding-wedding.” “Cranford? No.” “I don’t know if I want this.” “I don’t think you should go to Philly tonight.”

The score card. Let me show you how wrong you are. Before they were together, they both had some “weak” moments, during which they didn’t exactly act fairly. Not once in all these years have we EVER seen one call the other out on their past mistakes. They’re not keeping score, they’re discussing them, dealing with them and moving on. There isn’t a more mature way to go about this.

There’s a battle – and you’re on your own. Again. In every chance they get, in any problem they face with third persons, they always stand by the other’s side and lift them up and support them. Just like when Pam was there for Jim when Ryan made his life hard in s4, or when Dwight terrorized him with the snow in s7. And just like when Jim made the list for Pam when Robert California set her aside, or when he demanded answers by her side from the dude who did call “a dork like that” back. Those two are a team, and not just when they’re planning ways to prank Dwight, or they’re sharing looks across the room over how ridiculous Michael is being.

Privacy? What privacy? Oh, I LOVE this one about them. How they get to be individuals and they are not defined by one another. They get their private time, private hobbies, and that’s such a healthy part of a relationship that so many just overlook. The only time that wasn’t the case was when they were using the world’s smallest Bluetooth - but it was so obvious that they were both craving it so much because they were missing each other, and they were both more than comfortable with it. Until that conversation with her classmate happened, which I’m sure signaled the end of that way of communication for them. But remember all those months they were apart? Remember how Jim TURNED BACK halfway to New York because “I’m not that guy. And we’re not that couple”? Remember how respectful they’ve always been of each other’s need for privacy?

The lies. Oh the lies! The only lie between the two (If you don’t count the “I can’t” of Casino Night and the “It was three years ago. I’m totally over it.” of The Secret) was when Jim didn’t tell Pam that he started a business in Philly. Which he told her an episode late, by himself. And it served as the perfect opportunity to show just how steady the foundations of their relationship are, and how much they trust and faith they have in one another and in their love. I’ll never forget how Pam reacted to realizing that Jim is keeping something from her. She didn’t call him out or corner him for answers, she simply waited for him to tell her when he’s ready. Then when the idea of an affair was thrown on the table, Pam shrugged it off, saying “Jim? No. He loves me too much”. And it’s not easy to say that theoretically, much along actually act on it. But when in season 8 Kathy hit on Jim while they were in that hotel, there’s a deleted scene of Jim and Pam on the phone, and Pam is actually joking about the whole thing. It’s impressive and miraculous just how deeply these two trust each other, and believe that they would never hurt the other like that.

Physical or verbal abuse. Or both. We’ve seen Pam being handled roughly by Roy, and then we’ve seen the way Jim treats her, like she’s the most precious butterfly. And HEAVEN HELP ME, the guy was too scared to look at her for too long in the beginning. He’s the most gentle and caring man I’ve seen, in words and actions alike. And the very same goes for Pam. The only time she’s spoken badly to him was when she said “Shut it” as she was storming off Michael’s office when she found out he was dating her mom and Jim knew. And she was clearly very upset and not acting like herself. But we can all agree that this is not a pattern of behavior, and that Jim and Pam have NEVER, EVER been abusive towards one another.

Not including the other in big decisions. This is the only one that’s kinda true. Jim decided to buy his parents’ house, then decided to start a business, then Pam decided to sell the house, all without including the other. Despite those, that was an issue that they were not blind towards, and Pam even brought it up in season 9, and it was one of the problems they worked through at couples therapy. And that’s exactly what a healthy and mature relationship looks like.

So there you have it. Those are the main signs of an unhealthy relationship. Wanna hear the definition of a healthy one?

A healthy relationship is when two people develop a connection based on: Mutual respect. Trust. Honesty. Support. Fairness/equality. Separate identities. Good communication. A sense of playfulness/fondness.

In a healthy relationship you:

Take care of yourself and have good self-esteem independent of your relationship

Maintain and respect each other’s individuality

Maintain relationships with friends and family

Have activities apart from one another

Are able to express yourselves to one another without fear of consequences

Are able to feel secure and comfortable

Allow and encourage other relationships

Take interest in one another’s activities

Do not worry about violence in the relationship

Resolve conflict fairly: Fighting is part of even healthy relationships, the difference is how the conflict is handled. Fighting fairly is an important skill you help you have healthier relationships

Have respect for sexual boundaries

Are honest about sexual activity if it is a sexual relationship

Accept influence. Relationships are give and take; allowing your partner to influence you is important; this can be especially difficult for some men.

Trust each other and be honest with each other

Have the option of privacy

Now, let us all think each and every one of those through. And let’s think about it twice before we accuse perfectly healthy relationships of being toxic.

That’s all I have to say. Sorry, this was so long, and thank you for staying to this point!

All I know is that, for me, Jim and Pam’s relationship - along with that of my parents’ - is the healthiest one my eyes have ever seen. And I feel so lucky to have discovered those two gems. 💜

[popculturebuffet]

Close Enough Reviews: First Date and Snailin’ It

We’re in the home stretch thank god! Seriously while I do love this show, doing 13 reviews in one day, even as most are easy to bang out, has been exausting. But the thank god is also because we’ve arrived at my faviorite episode so far and.. er another one but at least it has Noel Fielding! That’s really awesome!  This time around Josh and Emily try to recapture the magic of their first date only to end up in one of the good Blumhouse movies, while Bridgette brings Josh along on an awkward first date. Then Emily gets the help of a snail’s magical hat to juggle work and life. Snail yeah under hte cut. 

First Date: 

A fourtune teller is at the fourplex, another review of the series I recently read revealed that’s what their buildings called and I like the sound of it so i’m using that, predicting a weird romance for bridget, who belivies it’s a guy she’s been texing, and sometimes sexting in her words not mine, who she has a date with tonight while said psychic also reveals to Emily that things with her and josh have gotten bland, something emily realizes via a hilarous flashback of them making out while falling asleep repeadtly before both just conk out. Also randy has thunder pants, aka pants tha tmake thunde rnoises and have a giant lighting bolt cod piece. Your the second best randy. Andt hat’s only because Alex is still a character. 

So we have our two plots and unlike previous episodes and one future one the plots.. don’t dovetail. Which I like and I like a show being able to do two seperate plots in eleven minutes. We frankly need more of that. Bridgette has her date and Josh and Emily end up having theres. As such i’ll cover both seperatley. And since their plots a bit simplier let’s start with Josh and Emily.  Emily tries flirting with Josh before explaning it’s because she wants to bring the spice back. After josh bungles his response trying to say what she wants but just.. you know asking emily what she wants him to say which is never a good move in any conversation, Josh does near instantly rebound, texting emily to come to the close tfor a suprise. Granted since Josh, self admittley right after, admits he has no game, it come across as weird and creepy, but Emily appricates him trying and is touched when he reveals his real bring the sparks back romantic plan: a recreation of their first date, which was at a haunted house. Also for some reason Josh thought mr magoriums wonder emporium was a best picture contender. Never change josh, never change. But I genuinely like this: having a couple that while relaistically having a dry spell still lvoes each other: instead of worrying the relationship is dead as these plots tend to do they simply want to bring back the magic that’s sometimes lost when you work two jobs, raise a kid full time and live with two weirdos with little sense of personal space.  So they go and the reason it’s pretty simple is their subplot is the two having a mind screw being chased by various horrors in the house. As i’ve said I feel the series has more of a horror bent at times with some episodes leaning more into that than just goofy madness like regular show did. Regular Show really saved most of its straight up horror content for terror tales, here horror bits can crop up as much as fucking wacky bits. I mean a logan’s run parody where a man dies is paired up with a low speed train chase with a con arist that ends with her driving into a thermortor factory while choking her fake son. The show can ping pong on tone, but it does work.  But yeah that’s why there’s less to talk about: it’s not bad stuff, it’s super spooky including the end bit where their told they died, it’s just mostly the two of them running around a nightmare, that unsuprisngly turns out not to be real and was just the attraction, before a really touching climax when the two finally find each other run towards each other and realize just how horrifed they were at the thought of loosing one another. it’s really damn touching and romantic, and leads to another climax when the two start kissing before getting it on despite the horror house working telling them they have others coming. I’ts a good plot, I just don’t have a ton to anlyaize about it. it’s just really good and really good horror stuff with a satsifying and sweet ending.  On to our main event, Bridgette heads out to her date and TRIES lying to alex for his own sake.. but Alex not only easily guessed she was on a date in the first place but... isn’t bothered at all. He even offers to wing man while sining the firends theme song and clapping at the wrong time. Because he’s alex even when he’s being sweet and a good friend and ex, he can’t help but be just a BIT off.  Bridget goes to meet Ron.. and finds he’s sewn to his ex Joy... like literally sewn or conjoined as they put it. Bridgette freaks the fuck out but is talked by ron into continuing, partly because their getting it undone and partly because Bridgette herself admits Ron looked past her baggage.. even if his is larger, she can at least try to. Also Ron is voiced by Chris Parnell who, with archer delayed event hough i’m watching it again and having stopped wtching rick and morty, I dearly missed. Glad to have you back dude. I’m also unsuprised he’s in this as the man is in everything. He’s a fucking workhorse. 

Anyways Alex happily agrees, has his own brief freakout because bridget didn’t tell him about the conjoined twins thing despite being a room away, but quickly rebounds and.. actually hits it off with Joy. even better than Bridgette is with ron who she soon realizes won’t shut the hell up about hiking. Soon Bridgette.. is jealous. Both because Alex is moving on way easier and found someone way quicker, Joyce shares his weird taste in viking erotica, and because she may still have some feelings left. We saw a bit of that in “Robot Tutor”: Bridgette got jealous real quick when alex saw someone elsed espite them being there mostly as sex pals, and admitted there was still some unresolved stuff there they hadnt gotten past on both sides.  They hit the club and things continue to degrade, with Bridgette even more jealous because Alex never took her dancing. And being that bridg is a musician and loves clubbing and what not, i’ts pretty understandable to be frustrated with her ex talking about how it took someone else to get him to do the worm.. also Alex doing the worm is a sheeer delight. When the cojoined ex couple leave, with Ron once again bringing up climbing machu pichu because apparently it’s in chris parnells contract he can never play an actually likeable romantic intrest, Bridget tries to bail but Alex wants to stay since it’s not his fault his date is going well and her’s isn’t.  Bridgette makes the mistake of saying “If you like joy so much why don’t you just conjoin with her”.. and Alex being alex says “why dont’ I and we end up at conjoin, the place Ron and Joy got bonded in the first place. Ever since 1994, you won’t regret this. Actual signs up there and they are wonderful. Bridgette, still jealous even ifs he can’t stand ron offers to be conjoined to him both in a desperate attempt not to losoe alex and to one up him.  However Alex finally calls her out, as while he’s perfeclty happy for her to move on, as this episode showed.. she can’t stand to see him with someone else, and Ron wisley tells her he can’t be attached to someone who isn’t unattached from her ex. When bridgette counters with the oppsitie ron is suprisingly pogniant “We can detach from each other physically but you two can’t detach from each other spirtually”. WHile bridgette quips about him finally saying something intresting, he’s right. She’s not ready and this night clearly proved it and even if she was she was only doing this to show up Alex. Joy likewise breaks things off. a bit more abrubtly since Alex has’nt been nearly as obvious as bridgette.. but alex himself shows he too still has some feelings when he accidentlya dmits to having written an entire section of his memoir about her teeth. Would could be creepy or you know, standard alex ends up really sweet as Bridgette is not only touched by the gesture, but Alex explains why “THeir all the parts that make up your smile” The two share a look, Joy wants what they have and Ron wants to masturbate alone. The end. 

Sadly this isn’t followed up on yet, if at all if there isn’t more episodes next week, as the next ep with the two in it, the finale for today, has the two in seperate plots that only dovetail at the end. But this honestly feels like a posisble arc for the show; Will the two get back together and work past the issues that got them to divorce in the first place or stay divorced and move on? And regular show, with one exception i’ve ranted enough about and will again, was really good at romantic storylines eventually and this could be really intresting for a number of reasons. I’m realy hoping this isn’t just a one off ending, could be but we’ll hopefully see. Either way this episode is really damn good with both plots , while not intersecitng connecting thematically: ONe couple relives a horrifying mirorr version of their first date while a former couple goes on their first real date with other people since the split but finds they might not be as done as they thought. IT’s a good juxtopision and the whole conjoining bit is both horrifying and good Beisdes having my ship at the center i’ts just a damn good time and the best of the season so far (or at all atain the 8 episodes thing is really throwing me off). 

Snailed It: This one should go quicker as its a much simpler ep: Emily has been working way too much and neglecting Candace, including a crypt based board game they’ve been playing for her job because she’s being a doormat. however i’ts not unresonable since said job gives them health insurance which given their lives, they REALLY need. She’s being such a doormat because she’s understandably afraid if she stands up for herself it could risk her job and they’d loose important stuff.  Emily TRIES to juggle things by doing a charity garden/publicity stunt to distract thigns at the school btu the comination of extra work from her boss and the children not actually gardening makes it fail and candace more upset. Emily finds help in the most unlikely of places: A giant talking snail that offers to let her use his magic hat to speed up time and complete the garden in exchange for some of the veggies. He’s also voiced by nice dude and mighty boosh alum noel fielding in what hoenstly feels like a boosh character got out of that universe, if their not the same unvierse which is possible, and snuck into this one.  Emily accepts, and is tempted to use the hat to do more of her job, with the snail calling her a shit parent. Fuck you man, sh’e sa good mom she’s just making mistakes. Emily decides to do it anyway and it works but she soon finds out using the hat outside the garden ages her while the snail decides fuck it and kidnaps candace by aborbing her into his stomach and making her be his legs so he can get dumplings because why not. What follows is a horrifc and tense chase between the two as candace’s life is on the line and the snail has a backup hat and emily time blasting him only makes candace age or deage, horrifyingly becoming a fetus at one point and a teenager later. It’s ar eally tense well done seen that combines the show’s usual insanity with it’s horror side to great effect Meanwhile josh feels useless since his job is less important, and he feels less important as he’s on call and skipping rocks with randy because apparently that’s what he does on call. Randy gets a great moment though, explaning to josh that h’es like the stones their skipping: he’s immoible and seemingly useless most of the time but when it matters he’s there . He’s there rock. Their support.. and naturally with emily slowly dying from her hat, a rare sentence, Josh steps upa nd saves the day via stone skipping, emily throws the hat in and the fundraiser, due to the madness, sucesffuly buired the scandal and Emily finally tells mr salt no.. and he’s really cool about it just telling her to come in a little later. Things are back on track and we’re out.  This wasn’t a bad one, but it both feels less after the prevoius episode and somehwhat simple comaprd other emily centreic episodes. WHile the snail is a great villian and noel fielding,  like rich fulcher before him, fits into this kind of world nicely. Not a bad one, just one sandwitched between two far more interesting episodes. Speaking of which, we’re in the endg ame now. Next time it’s dog days and weird fucking al baby, until very soon later days. 

[that-was-anticlimactic]

gimme cole headcanon

Cole Headcanons Part Two!

Part one right here: https://that-was-anticlimactic.tumblr.com/post/182618003899/have-you-any-headcanons-about-cole-the-fandom

(Sorry this is long, I tried doing the read more on my phone but it didn’t work I’m screeching ahh!!)

Let’s start with some depressing then end in happy!

Sad:

During the beginning of Sons of Garmadon when Lloyd didn’t know Harumi was evil and they were being all flirty, Cole was the only single one on the ship (Zane still had Pixal even though she wasn’t there. That wording is weird but makes sense in my head) and eventually it got to the point of just craving validation and affection and being heard and seen since he was always the wheel and sometimes no one paid him any attention because of significant others, that he went out in search for something to make him feel valuable and long story short he met a random guy at Laffy’s (before he knew it was an SoG place) and they ended up making out in the back and it was really bad because the guy was going far too fast for Cole and wanted more and it scared Cole and he didn’t know how to say slow down and every time he tried he was ignored. He barely got out before it got... too intense.

He still hasn’t told anyone about it yet. All he wanted was for someone to notice him, to treat him like he wasn’t a third wheel... he didn’t want that.

Unbeknownst to him it was an SoG member who knew he was a ninja and was trying to make him feel pain

After the events of Day of the Departed, Cole had a few moments where he was mad at the team for forgetting him, even though he knew it wasn’t their fault

At one really low point he reasoned that if it were any other ninja (specifically Lloyd), everyone would have noticed immediately. He felt really bad about that thought for awhile.

You’re invisible when you’re sad

Fading away at random times TO THIS DAY is the scariest thing that’s ever happened to him. It happened at the most random times and he would suddenly lose control and even thought sometimes and the others would sometimes just find him staring into space

There was a good portion of time when he was a ghost when the public hates him. All of the ninja get hate a lot because... the world can be dumb... but when Cole was a ghost, people freaked out. It took a long time for them to realize / accept that he wasn’t becoming evil or anything.

Cole had some bad encounters with some citizens who didn’t trust him. The team got real pissed real fast about them. Cole definitely didn’t leave The Bounty for a while and thought everyone hated him. He had some good talks with Lloyd and Zane about dealing with it because they know best.

Ninjago being like Cole never had any run ins with water as a ghost what ??? Oh no no he definitely had some instances with water that scared him to no end

This boy just. He craves affection so badly sometimes. Like not like he’s desperate for a significant other but. FSM, this boy just needs affection sometimes because he never gets it.

HE IS TOUCHED STARVED

Okay okay. About cake. Cole likes cake. And he likes food, he stress eats. BUT! Ever since that one day when he made a big deal out of cake (which he hadn’t eaten in a decent amount of time), his teammates made some jokes about it, as friends do. Eventually, the public kind of realized this and all of a sudden he wasn’t “the earth ninja” or “the black ninja” or even “the strong ninja” no no, he was “the ninja who liked food”. That’s how the public saw him now, and if that’s what he is, then he has to be that, he thought.

So he felt like he had to eat all the time and so he did. There were some moments when he essentially ate himself sick. At one point, he actually hated cake because of how much he ate it and how often it was out in front of him and he felt like he needed to eat it.

The thought that he had to be the one who ate all of the time and had to be that one guy who was obsessed with food led him to bulimia as well

No one on the team knows about this except for Zane who caught him puking one time and flipped out. That’s the reason he did the whole “my body is a temple” thing in season eight because Zane said if he didn’t stop doing this to himself because he felt like “he had to” then he would tell everyone right then and there.

Don’t get me wrong, Cole always stress ate a little bit and enjoyed cake because he never really was allowed it too much as a kid, but he got pushed too far (unbeknownst to himself and his teammates) and it just ended really bad.

He is very self-conscious about his weight

I know it’s essentially canon that his mom died, but Cole’s parents got divorced. It was very bad and very brutal. His mom left in front of him and didn’t spare him a second glance. Besides... he said that “he just lost someone.'' He never said someone died.

Whether his mom actually died after the divorce or it was the divorce itself, the song “Dead Mom” from Beetlejuice (Musical) became super important to him and he sang it a lot.

He still sang it once he became a ninja. The team could hear him singing or humming it some nights or during training or when he was down.

They never really understood why he was so attached to that song since they didn’t know about his family situation for awhile but they rolled with it and honestly, everyone but Jay could relate in some way

Still has nightmares about his fall (which he does NOT blame Nya for). Like. He doesn’t know how or why he survived. Sometimes he’s scared that the team literally just flew away without him because they didn’t care not because they literally had to because in his nightmares they didn’t care. Needless to say, once the Oni were defeated Cole did get a lot of love because his nightmares weren’t a secret. Being touched by the Oni like he did in his first fall and being in the Oni for twenty four hours+ definitely does that to you.

Now not only does he have a slight fear of water, but he also has a slight fear of the dark.

Kai and Lloyd went out one day after a particularly rough night and they bought a nightlight for him and he literally cried happy tears when they gave it to him because he was so ashamed but they were so supportive

When Kai, Jay, and Zane got captured in Hunted, they saw the Ultra Dragon’s bones... Cole never saw that. They didn’t even think to tell him until after they got back into Ninjago and Cole was talking about how much he missed just dragons and general and he wondered where Rocky / Ultra Dragon was

When he found out he got up and silently walked away. He found a tree that hasn’t been smashed in the destruction of the city and stayed in there. The others found him asleep in the refuge of the tree there later that night. Kai, Jay, and Zane felt terrible.

He doesn’t really like Valentine’s Day because he’s always alone on that holiday. Like all of his friends leave him, and he knows they’re not leaving him, they’re just going on dates… he’s happy that Lloyd is with him every time… except the one Valentine’s Day with Harumi. He’s usually content it’s just that he always feels isolated on Valentine’s Day.

Happy:

Cole relates to Rapunzel a lot. Also she’s his favorite Disney Princess don’t @ me

Sometimes the team will be like “Cole! Let down your hair!” because Cole’s got the longest hair and they know how much he loves that girl

“When Will My Life Begin?” is one of Cole’s all time favorite songs. Ever. He relates. Also it’s pretty. One time he woke up at 7 a.m. just to sing that song. The team was not pleased as it was their day off.

One time as a surprise since Cole was feeling a little down, Kai invited him to go on a boat ride and started playing the music to “I See The Light” and Cole sang as Punzie and Kai sang as Flynn (because Cole tells him they are very much so alike and Cole knows that fire boy can sing he just... doesn’t like singing too much)

Oh and he’s definitely had a small fictional crush on Flynn Rider

Kai and Zane once said that they’ve never seen a Disney movie and Cole died and every Thursday night became Disney movie night

They obviously started with Tangled

But also since he has long hair, this boy sheds a lot. It’s almost as if they had a dog with how much he sheds.

He also definitely wishes they had a dog. Like. A corgi. He wants a corgi.

If I’m being real, the team definitely helped his gay awakening. He knew he was gay before them, but he didn’t come to terms with it until the team

As in he’s had a mini crush on Kai, Jay, and Zane each at one point guys let’s be real

On a happy cake / food note, his favorite kind of cake is marble cake.

He also can and will eat an entire jar of crunchy peanut butter as his only meal for a day

Cole expresses extreme anger and extreme excitement through other languages (as he’s fluent in multiple)

Sometimes if Cole’s slightly frustrated at the team but not like really genuinely mad but he knows his buttons are about to get pushed too much, he starts aggressively signing at them in Ninjago Sign Language but like... since he’s the only fluent one and he’s not really angry, he just signs things like “I like you shoes!” or “if I continue at this rate the only thing I’ll ever date is my MacBook Pro hard-drive!” with an angry look on his face.

Their expressions amuse him.

Jay: *says something he knows will slightly tick Cole off*

Cole: *angrily signs* I want to live on the moon!

Jay: oh frick ! I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t be mad at me I love you!

Cole likes reading poetry!

Jay actually writes poetry a lot, and he’ll try it out on Cole all the time!

Cole’s best dance is hip-hop... which wasn’t really taught at Marty Oppenheimer’s, but he learned it while he was on his own and it’s his absolute favorite!

Although, he does enjoy tap and ballet occasionally!

You’d think since Cole has big eyebrows he’d be really good at using them (eyebrow raising, wiggling, etc...) but no... no this boy is an awkward mess sometimes. He doesn’t know how to eyebrow. Kai tries teaching him, but it doesn’t work very well…

Cole’s that kind of guy who always finds random bruises on him, but like... bruises that definitely aren’t from training. He just always somehow has bruises from nothing

He’s not ?? super freaking tall ?? I’m sorry I just can’t picture Cole over 5’8 ?? Hot take ?? Unpopular opinion ??

I know a lot of people think he’s super super super tall but... I can’t can’t wrap my head around that, he’s never been a giant to me, or even the tallest person on the team ? I’m sure like no one agrees with that one, but in my head that boyo is... well not short but not y’all either. Like Zane and Kai are definitely taller than him idk about Lloyd and Jay yet though.

Since he grew up dancing and such, he didn’t have much time for tv. So you best bet that when it his turn with kid!Lloyd they watch young children television shows and Cole freaking loves them! He thinks they’re so cute and so funny.

He definitely snort laughs while watching them

Lloyd is so confused because Cole will just start wheezing at something that wasn’t even funny or start tearing up at a moment that wasn’t even that sad but he just goes with it because tv

His favorites are The Backyardigans and Arthur.

No but he watched all of the Disney movies at Marty Oppenheimer’s because they did a dance based on the movie and he was intrigued so he watched the rest of them. That’s how he watched all of them

He’s not the best at video games... like at all. He still plays, and he still tries, but he rarely ever wins

He’s that guy who sticks his tongue out while he writes / thinks / when he concentrates

Cole and Lloyd are really good friends. Like basically best friends.

These boys have been alone on the Bounty together so often that they formed a really solid relationship and they can be very open to each other

Cole’s hair was the longest during Tournament of Elements because after Zane’s death he just stopped caring and he was in the woods but like... then he lost in the tournament and we gotta assume he was in the noodle factory for around a month? Three weeks? Idk how long but when his friends saw him again they made him cut his hair a bit because it was considerably longer

Cole is that person who doesn’t tell people things but then forgets they don’t know it. Partially because he’s a super closed off person but also because he’s just an oblivious sweetie who forgets

Cole: so who’s all interested in seeing Les Miz with me again?

Lloyd: wait what

Kai: when are you seeing Les Miz?

Zane: ... you never once spoke to us about this

Cole: ... oh well my dad knows someone who works on the tour production team and they’ll be in Jamanakai village this week and he’s getting me and anyone else who wants to see it tickets as a late but soon birthday present. Woo, guess I forgot to mention it, huh? *chuckles casually*

Everyone: …

Jay: yOUR BIRTHDAY?? WHEN WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY?

Oh and no one knows Cole birthday by the way. It’s a big secret. They’ve tried many times to uncover it but they can never get it out of him

They thought the Les Miz tickets were a clue but they didn’t help because Cole told everyone different things and Lou does the same so they may never know

Jay: so uh, as you’re resident best friend, you should tell me your birthday

Cole: sure it’s in the middle of December

Jay: aH I GOT IT… ISH!!

Jay: *later to everyone else* guys! I found out what month Cole’s birthday is! December!

Kai: … he told me he was born in June?

Lloyd: he told me September?

Zane: *sighing* February

Nya: he told me May

Jay: … DARN IT COLE

Cole enjoys messing with them. He actually told Lloyd when his birthday was after a few years. Only Lloyd knows. When fun fact his birthday actually is—

Oh speaking of musicals (since he’s a theater boy), Jay and Cole sing Two-Player Game together constantly.

and The Bro Duet because those are their songs

Kai: *walks out wearing yellow*

Cole: yOU CAN’T TRUST A MAN DRESSED IN YELLOW EVEN IF YOU LOVE CHEDDAR CHEESE

Kai: *face palms*

Oh did I mention he bursts into song a lot?

Sensei Wu: Cole, it’s your turn to do laundry

Cole: Laundry day. see you there. under things. tumbling. wanna say. love your hair. here I go. mumbling-

Sensei Wu: every time.

He has a tree loving song that he sings while climbing too

Cole: *climbing a tree* AT THE TOP AT THE TOP AT THE TOP OF THE WORLD MY HEAD AND HEART ARE POUNDING~

Oh and it’s contagious…

Cole: *makes a “funny” joke*

Cole: click boom then it happened.

Lloyd: and no one else was in the room where it happened

As in he’s converted Lloyd to a theater kid.

He once “made” Nya and Lloyd sing “Lost” from the Lightning Thief with him. He was Grover, Nya was Annabeth, and Lloyd was Percy. They surprisingly liked it more than they thought they would.

Grover is one of Cole’s dreamroles. He feels like Grover is super relatable and loves his songs! Grover is also his favorite character in the books

I think I mentioned in my original Cole headcanons post that Cole is the BIGGEST Percy Jackson fan. He introduced the team to Percy Jackson, he has the Camp Half-Blood AND Camp Jupiter shirts... he loves this series

He also has a character from Percy Jackson that he associates his team with (ex. Jay as Leo and Lloyd as Jason)

For the first year or so of being on the team, they all thought Cole was worst singer on the team because he was so scared of using his real voice so he sang badly on purpose when he was around people

It wasn’t until Cole was singing in the shower when he was home alone and the team came back while he was still showering did they realize he hAS THE PRETTIEST SMOOTHEST VOICE EVER

he’s grown to being more comfortable with his voice and he sings a lot more now!

Cole kind of listens to all music! He doesn’t specifically prefer one over the other, he just finds making references easiest with theater! He really likes all kind of music!

Jay: why do you have a diary?

Cole: to keep secrets from my computer

Okay about trees again... COLE LOVES TREES

Cole: trees are better than people~

One time while they were traveling they saw a tree that was like super bent and Cole made them all stop so he could climb it. They all sat down and took a rest / water break while he climbed, and after about five minutes he was hanging upside down from the very top and scared the team…

Zane: Cole, perhaps it is wise if you get down from there?

Cole: nah I’m fine up here!

Lloyd: a-are you sure?

Cole: yes! I know what I’m doi- woah- WOAH!

Cole: *pretends to fall*

Jay: COLE!!

Cole: *swings himself back up* hahaha! You guys gotta trust me!

Kai: tHAT... that was not funny. I hate you.

He is always wearing some kind of orange on him, whether it’s a hair tie or bracelet or anklet... he always wears orange since he’s the only ninja who didn’t necessarily get their favorite color as their signature color and he just loves it so much

He and Kai definitely eat onions like apples together... just saying.

One time the team was playing badminton and Cole hit the birdie so hard they never found it ever again.

Not gonna lie, he was VERY proud of himself for that

But uh, his super strength is the reason why whenever they play sports, everyone gets to play before him. He’s learned to just go with it because he has thrown many things they’ve never found again.

Kai: *hits a ball*

Cole: weak

Kai: bruh

Walks barefoot CONSTANTLY. He’ll walk barefoot in the woods, in the city... there are times when he’s almost gone to battle barefoot and one time early on he definitely did

Zane: Cole... where in the world are your shoes?

Cole: *looks down* huh. I guess I left my shoes on the ship. I’ll get some good calluses after this fight!

He really really REALLY hates when people make certain self-degrading jokes.

If anyone makes a joke about killing themselves (someone from the team or even someone at the same restaurant or walking on the same street) Cole will tell them off. He will tell them how loved they are and that they shouldn’t be so negative towards themselves. He hates those jokes. Not that anyone on the team did it often, but after one time of doing it Cole freaked.

Like he loves his friends so much and sees their worth and when they make jokes about hating themselves he just feels so helpless and he just wants to hug them and make them realize how important they are to him

He also refuses to make those jokes. Like he’s gone through a lot too, but he feels like joking about it makes it worse and he just… he let it go for awhile but now he’ll go off if you do it

Lloyd: ugh I hate myself

Cole: nOPE NOPE NOPE I DO NOT ACCEPT THIS LLOYD LOOK AT ME YOU ARE WONDERFUL AND AMAZING AND VERY GOOD OKAY AND I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU NEVER FORGET THAT *embraces him in a hug*

Lloyd: ... yes Cole, you’re right, I’m sorry. I am very good. Thank you.

but also if anyone ever insults a team member or mentions something Cole will go full mom mode and will “smother” them with love. He’ll let Kai or Nya go after whoever insulted, Cole prefers to be the comforter. And he’s super good at it.

No he’s so good at comforting people it’s great. He’d rather be the comforter than the comforted because he’s always embarrassed when he needs comfort and he knows he’s pretty good at comforting people! It makes him happy to make his friends smile!

Cole wears glasses when he’s not training or in battle !!! (he uses contacts then)

They’re not like the bigger glasses, he has smaller glasses, it’s cute

After he becomes human again, he went through a period of time when he disliked being touched because it was so weird to him after a few years of feeling literally nothing, and the team hated it but respected it, but after a month ish, he finally realized how touch starved he was and he clung to everyone and everyone gladly let him

So uh he’s a big cuddler and can and will just plop down next to anyone and put his head on their shoulder with no context and they will embrace it

Also he loves when people run their fingers through his hair. Like it relaxes him and makes him feel so safe and comfortable?? He appreciates it a lot and if he looks stressed, the team will do that!

Doesn’t like texting or phones and had a flip phone for forever until the team made him buy a regular like apple phone

Communicates through a bunch of emojis. Like just emojis. He doesn’t text much, but when he does, emojis. He’ll just randomly send someone a bunch of emojis and they’ll just ?? Cole sweetie what are you trying to say ??

Cole will occasionally text the team goodnight while they’re in the same room. He usually does it if he’s either in a super good mood or if he seems someone is kind of in a sad mood. They all LOVE it

Cole and Nya like working out together! They’re both super into workouts and cardio and they work well together

Cole likes to look at nothing like he’s looking at a camera like Jim from The Office when someone does dumb things

Jay: look at all those chickens !

Cole: *Jim look*

Cole, Lloyd, and Nya are like a dream team. When they play games they like playing on the same team against Kai, Jay, and Zane. Even if they don’t win, those three work insanely well together like it’s crazy

Cole! And! Zane! Have! Late! Night! Talks!

Even after Cole became human again, they still have late night talks because sleeping is hard~

Jay: buddies !

Cole: bros !

Jay: homies !

Cole: amigos !

Jay: pizza !

Cole: nintendo !

Both: woo, woo, woo, let’s go !

Aka they’re just the best of friends and love and appreciate each other so much !

They’re actually learning Dutch together, as Cole likes learning languages and Jay is interested in learning some more!

Cole gets angrily easily too (as most of the team does), but when he gets angry he starts off quiet and doesn’t really talk to anyone, and if someone does or says something to someone else that ticks him off, he just gets up and kind of angrily screams as he walks away.

He’s a sulker if we’re being real here. He’s sulks.

Cole can give the meanest looks accidentally. He has a good glare. If you tick him off, you know. It’s not as impressive as Kai’s glare, but it’s still insanely impressive.

Did I mention he punches things a lot when he’s angry? Definitely punched the wheel of The Bounty once and broke it

He did the walk of shame after that and had to help Jay fix it

Hates hats, like he’d rather let his hair flow. His head feels confined when he’s wearing hats

Much like with orange, he really likes wearing pink?

One time he and Jay went shopping together and he just bought an outfit entirely in pink. Pink shirt, pink shorts, pink socks, even a pink scrunchie like he loves pink

Oh and he and Jay have a day once a month together where they just go out and have fun! They do things like shopping or getting lunch or watching a movie… sometimes they just sit at The Bounty and draw or make anklets, one time they spent a weekend at the junkyard!

He’s the kind of guy who will wear earbuds or headphones without music to be left alone

Cole loves oversized hoodies !!

Also every since March of the Oni, he’s been really really really cold so he wears hoodies and sweat pants more often and he started carrying a blanket or jacket around with him because of it.

Kai notices this and if he sees Cole getting too cold or starting to panic a little, he just wraps an arm around his shoulders or gives him a hug or something because Kai radiates h e a t

Random but he can rap really well.

Doesn’t mind getting dirty, like he’s the master of Earth, he is one with the dirt! He doesn’t just go out and roll in the mud but he’s fine just getting dirty when he’s outside!

Kai: *kicks a soccer ball into the goal*

Cole: touchdown !!

Kai: … that-that was a goal. You should know this

Cole: … I went to dance school… I don’t know sports…

Kai: that is… very true fair point

Will get up in the middle of the night to make popcorn because comfort food and he loves it

Zane woke up the first time he did it because he burnt it and Zane could smell it, so now he and Zane make popcorn together a lot. He actually introduced Zane to popcorn. He’s very proud of himself for that.

He has the best posture.

Sits up very straight since, you know, dance school. It kind of just stuck with him and he doesn’t slouch. He doesn’t mind, he’s always super sore because of his powers and abilities and so he’s fine with not having slouching add to that

oH and he and Jay give each other massages because Cole’s powers make him sore and Jay’s Tourette’s make him sore

He just… he loves his friends so much. I feel like I’ve said this many times, but just… he appreciates his friends more than they’ll ever know. He just loves them so so so so much. They mean the world to him.

I hope you guys enjoyed! We’re there any you strongly agreed with? Disagreed with? Sorry I answered this so late:/ I’ve been gone for awhile! Hope you all have a great day 😁

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

Living a Little Part 4

A/N’s:  I’m sorry this has taken so long. For a long time I didn’t know how to start it and the only reason I even started it was because I didn’t feel like doing school work. So this is the reason I don’t have a story done for Creative Writing. Anyway, I have no clue when part 5 will be out, but I swear it will be out eventually. Feel free to send in requests and I love getting feedback, so don’t be shy. I hope you guys enjoy.

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Masterlist

70s! John Deacon x Reader

Summary: Y/n get dragged out of her comfort zone by her roommate, even though she knows Y/n never goes out, due to her studies, to a rock concert. Of all places. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, when she meets, a very interesting, certain bassist. And he just so happens to find her interesting too.

Part 4 of ?

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: None????

It was a perfect day for a picnic. The sun was shining high against the bright blue sky, sparse clouds drifting past it. Y/n smiled as she exited Mickie’s, shielding her eyes from the sun as she rummaged through her purse, looking for her sunglasses. Grabbing them out of her purse, she slid them on her face to keep from being blinded. With her eyes protected from the sun, she scanned the street for John. She didn’t know what car he drove or if they would be walking, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. When she didn’t see him, she leaned against the cold brick of the building behind her, glancing at her watch.

He wasn’t late. Yet she wasn’t early.

It was that horrible 10 minute period that many considered on time. During that time, it felt like everything had slowed down, taking longer to happen than normal. It felt more like hours instead of minutes, but she wasn’t going to complain. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be. She just hoped to god that she didn’t cross paths with Charles before John arrived. Y/n wasn’t sure if her heart would be able to handle another encounter.

Y/n drummed her fingers against her pant leg, waiting for time to slowly tick by. “If only I’d left ten minutes later,” she whined at the fact that she got ready too fast.

Waiting for her date to start was agonizing. It wasn’t like she could go on about the weather forever. London witnessed many beautiful days. It wasn’t always rainy and pouring all the time, making days like today scarce and precious. Instead, her mind decided to wander back to her last date. And it wanted nothing to do with the good memories. Her brain thought it was best to focus on the worst detail of that day. The worst detail of, probably, her entire month.

The man standing across the street.

Of course, it would be hard to burn that memory. She had left every memory about that man behind when she had moved to London. But now they were back full force, invading every thought, every second of her day before she could even bat an eye. Knowing him, knowing Charles the way she did, she knew that even if she told him never to call her again, to never come near her again, her words would fall on deaf ears. They always did.

He could never seem to understand the words no, no matter what form they took.

“Y/n. Y/n, hey.”

The woman blinked back into reality, shaking her head to try and stay grounded. In front of her stood John with a concerned look on his face. He had obviously pulled up while she was staring off into space. “Sorry, sorry. Just daydreaming.”

“Hope it wasn’t about me,” he joked, laughing the whole thing off even though it bothered him a little. Taking him back to the distorted image from their previous date.  

Y/n’s cheeks heated up at his comment, causing her to scoff. “We’re not there yet, Mr. Deacon. You’re gonna have to wait for the third date for that.” She straightened herself, pushing off the building behind her. “Lead the way.”

He shook his head, “I’m sure doing a lot of waiting.”

She laughed, her cheeks heating up.

John gesturing for her to follow him to an Orange Morris Marina. Even though Y/n didn’t know the man that well, his car told her enough. It matched every part of his personality that she had come to know over the little time that they had known each other.

“This is your car?”

“Yep. Has been since I bought it.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching as she served the car. He opened her door, allowing her to slide in before shutting it and rounding the front to get in. Once in, he started it up and pulled onto the street.

“When was the last time you went on a picnic?” he asked, cursing himself for forgetting about London’s traffic as they came to a stop behind a line of car. And to think that they picked a time with little traffic.

Y/n thought for a second, chewing on her cheek. She couldn’t even remember the last picnic she went on, it had been that long. Or it was one of those picnics that was full of tension as her parents weren’t even talking to each other. “Well… It’s been a long time. Um, I would say about seven years.”

“Wow. Why so long?” he looked over at her, smiling as he watched her scrunch her nose up like she had an itch. John let out a sigh of relief, turning back to the road as the car in front of them moved forward.

She let out a deep breath, unsure whether the story was worth getting into or not. It would come out eventually if more dates came from it, but it wasn’t something she liked talking about either way. “My family used to go on picnic’s every Sunday after church when the weather permitted. It was kinda tradition. Once a month my grandparents and aunts and uncles would go with us as well. But that all stopped when my parents divorced,” she shrugged. “I haven’t gone to one since, but it’s not like I’m avoiding picnics or anything,” she assured him. “It’s just hard to find time.”

John shook his head. He could see the hurt in her eyes from the memories of her parents. It wasn’t fair. The pain that she was probably going through. Most parents often put their feelings before their children, hurting them in the crossfire. It just wasn’t fair. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

She let out a small laugh, “It’s alright, really. Everyone has their own sob story. Mine just so happens to be about my parents. And I’m not really upset about it anymore.”

He nodded, turning into one of London’s many suburbs.

“What about you? When was the last time you went on a picnic?”

“Oh god,” John ran a hand through his hair, stopping at a stop light. “Honestly, I haven’t since primary school.”

He pressed the gas once the light turned green and suddenly the car was filled with the sound of ducks.  John sighed, having dealt with the noise all week, unable to fix it. Roger had offered to take care of it for him, but he knew better than to take him up on that offer. He was the one behind the sound, he had to be. But just as he was about to tell Y/n that it was nothing to worry about, seeing the shock in her eyes, the engine started to grumble. That, most definitely, was not a sound a car should be making.

“Great,” he mumbled, pulling off the road, parking along a curb near an empty lot.

Y/n gave him a look as smoke started to come from under the hood. “As much as I’m concerned about the duck sound, I don’t think you’re car should be doing that.” She pointed to the hood.

“No, it shouldn’t.” John stepped out of the car, Y/n following right behind him. Neither knew much about cars, but they both knew that smoke was never a good sign.

“Should we call a truck?” Y/n suggested.

He scoffed. “Oh, no. The only one that I want to call right now it the arse that decided to work on my car!” He lifted the hood, smoke hitting him in the face.

Y/n sighed, one reason she was glad she didn’t have a car. If she did, her cousins would never let it out of their garage. She knew better than to ever want to take them up on that offer as her uncle had made it clear to them that if any of them touch his car, he would wield the hood shut. That had to be a sign that she didn’t want them working on any vehicle she ever got. “Roger?”

“Roger.”

She nodded, spinning around carelessly. Frustration was visible on John’s features, he clearly hadn’t thought his car would be giving them trouble. It was merely a bump in the road. It wasn’t like they had gotten into an accident or something like that, which would completely ruin the date.

“Now what are we gonna do?” he asked out of frustration, running his fingers through his hair.

“Who said we need a park to have a picnic?”

John laughed, “I think it’s kinda required.”

“But not totally required,” she pointed out. “There are exceptions.”

He smiled, so glad that they had decided to go on a second date.

As much as Roger teased him about it, John couldn’t help but fall in love with the woman. They barely knew each other and he was well aware of how stupid it sounded, but it was true. He had never been around someone that made everything feel like one fluid movement. He knew from the start that she wasn’t playing games or in it for the money and fame. Y/n wasn’t like the girls that clung to Roger at the end of every show, she was real. And he loved that.  

“You’re right, you’re right.” He shut the hood, going to the back seat to grab the basket that he had stocked full of food that morning.

“Food!” she exclaimed when he brought the basket into sight. “This better be good food, I was hungry an hour ago!”

John laughed, handing her the basket. “I swear it is. I wouldn’t want to ruin this because of food.”

She nodded, smiling as she took the basket. Opening it, she pulled out two wrapped sandwiches and handed one to John. “You swear it's good.”

“I swear on Roger’s life.”

Her smile fell, “He ruined your car, I think you kinda want to take his life.”

“Alright-” he raised his hands in defense. “- I swear on Brian’s life. He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“I’ll take that.”

The pair waited for a while, eating their lunch and talking further. They happened to have found themselves stuck in the quietest part of town. No cars passed by and the streets were silent. Everyone was probably out enjoying the nice weather. Even though John wished that his car hadn’t broken down, he was glad that it did. He wasn’t sure if the date would be much fun at the park.

“Where have you gone on tour so far?” Y/n asked from where she sat on the hood.

Placing the picnic basket back in the car, he leaned against the car door. “So far I have been to America, Germany, Finland, Poland, Japan, and probably some other places that I can’t remember.”

She nodded, leaning against the windshield. How she wished that she could travel to those places. Y/n had never had the chance or the money to travel outside of the country. She had never gone to Wales or Scotland like all her friends or family had. She had only ever stayed in the London area, never venturing far outside of it. Maybe one day, when she finished school, when her career was set up, she would have the time and the money to travel.

“Where have you traveled, Y/n?” John asked, shutting the car door, going to sit next to her.

“No where,” she sighed.

“Oh.”

“But I have always wanted to go to Brazil.”

He hummed in response. She still had plenty of time to travel. It wasn’t the end of the world that she hadn’t seen what the world had to offer. John could attest to that. The thought of traveling halfway across the country had never even crossed his mind until he had joined Queen.

The comfortable silence that had come over them was rudely interrupted when a car slowed down, coming to a stop right next to them.

John and Y/n turned to see the window slowly roll down. Y/n sucked in a breath, her eyes landing on who was rolling it down. It seemed that all the odds were against her.

“Do you folks need help?” a man asked.

Y/n was just about to say no when John hopped off the hood.

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

The man smiled, extending his hand out the window, “Charles Wright, but you can call me Charlie.” He met Y/n’s eyes as he said it, causing her to roll her eyes. The memory of their last conversation filling her mind. It seemed that she had the best luck in the world. It wasn’t the second time, nor the third that Charles had slithered into her life in a two week period but the fourth.

John grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake. “John Deacon.”

Charles smiled, “Don’t tell me the two of you are on a date.”

John nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well, going to one until the engine started smoking.”

Charles scrunched up his nose, signaling his distaste for such a thing. He shook his head, looking at the car. “That sucks. Is there anywhere I can take you two?” he asked, looking between the two.

“Um…” John looked back at Y/n who just shrugged. As much as she didn’t want anything to do with the man, it would probably be a while until another car pulled up. “Well, I guess we could go back to my place.”

The man nodded, “Hop in then.”

“Thank you, you’re a real lifesaver,” John stated, locking up his car.

Y/n slide off the hood, slowly walking over to the car. Charles smiled at her as she grasped the door handle. She would give anything in the world to have someone else offer to pick them up. She wasn’t sure how she would be able to stomach riding in the same vehicle with the man. Not when there wasn’t room to get away.

She sucked in her fears, opening the door and sliding into the back seat.

It wouldn’t be that bad. They would only share the same space for a maybe 15 minutes. It wasn’t like she had to spend the rest of the day with the man. Once at John’s place, it would probably, hopefully, be the last time that she would ever see him. He would go back to be someone she used to know, a long lost memory that faded with time.

John slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” Charles shrugged, putting the car in drive. Looking in the rearview mirror, Charles watched Y/n who was looking out the window, trying to distract herself. “I hope the backs not too messy, Y/n. I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t had the time to clean it.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” she faked a smile, wishing that he would drive faster.

John looked between the pair, at Y/n who was avoiding eye contact by looking out the window and at Charles who was smiling as a new song came on the radio. Something wasn’t adding up. He didn’t remember Y/n ever introducing herself to their driver. She had stayed silent since he arrived. He tried to shrug it off, turning his attention to directing Charles in the direction of his flat.

But even as they neared closer, it didn’t fade from his mind. Something was off. Y/n looked pale, the color fading from her skin. Something was wrong and he had a feeling that she knew the man sitting next to him. But that didn’t make any sense. Wouldn’t she have at least said something? Wouldn’t Charles have said something? Would they both just sit in silence, acting as if they had never met before? John didn’t want to read too much into things. It wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he couldn’t help it. It was just odd. It was a bright red flag that he wanted to ignore, but didn’t know how.

Charles pulled up outside John’s building, putting the car in park. He turned to the man beside him. “There you go mate. I hope you get your car fixed.”

John nodded, opening the door. “I hope so too. I would hate to have to buy a new one.”

Y/n swiftly got out of the car, shutting her door and walking over to the sidewalk as they conversed, wrapping her arms around her middle. Hundreds of emotions were running through her veins. She wasn’t quite sure what she felt, but it was anything but happy.

“Have a nice night,” John waved to Charles, shutting the door.

Once the car pulled out onto the street, Y/n released a breath she forgot she was holding. He was finally gone.

John turned to her, watching her posture change, her shoulders were no longer tense and her color was returning. “Do you know him?” he pointed to the car that was nearly out of sight.”

“No,” she shook her head, playing with her fingers. She thanked god that John didn’t know her as well as Alice, otherwise it would be easy to tell that she was lying.

“Are you sure?” he asked, concerned by her behavior.

She laughed, “I swear on my sister’s life that I don’t know him.”

He raised a brow.

“I have a sister, I swear,” she confirmed.

“Alright,” he accepted it, leading the way to his building. It still didn’t rub him right, but it seemed that pushing further wouldn’t get him anywhere. And it wasn’t like he would ever see the man again. London was a huge city, he rarely saw the same person twice.

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(Let me know if you guys want to be added to one of the taglists and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.)

Permanent: @rexorangecouny @jennyggggrrr @zestygingergirl

Living a Little: @yellowandscarlet @mackers125 @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakysgirl @danamaleksworld @kenzie-belle @rogertaylorssunglasses @in-theyearof39 @dreamer821 @borhapqueen92 @imgonnabeyourslave @reddiefreddieee @httpsavocados

[dxmedstudent]

Dx’s Dating Tips #4... the blurb.

I never got around to finishing these posts, but since I’ve been talking to friends trying to get into online dating, I’ve gone back to ranting about how people can do online dating better. Your blurb is your personal statement for getting an ‘interview’ with a prospective partner, so treat it exactly like one.

Start with a good opener. Mine was probably something jaunty and fun about working in healthcare, but yours doesn’t have to be. It just has to catch people’s attention; if you can think of something witty or funny, this tends to be a good place to put it. A good start profile feels like you’re reading a fun anecdote on here, or an interesting article; it feels full of promise.

Punctuate and use a spell checker. This might be a personal prejudice of mine; I don’t care how tall a guy is or how much he weighs, but I do care that he writes legibly. If I’m potentially going to be spending weeks, months or even the rest of my life messaging a guy, his words had better not drive me to distraction. You’d think this is hyperbole, but having flicked through probably thousands of profiles, a surprising number are... really painful to read.  I wouldn’t recommend formulating your profile as bullet points. It’s great for sites where there isn’t much of a blurb allowed, but if you have space to write a decent paragraph, do it. Your personality shines much more through prose than through lists.

Take people through some of your hobbies; what do you do that makes you happy, and what do you enjoy about it? This doesn’t need to be detailed, but is probably the most useful part of your profile because your hobbies and interests are something people can really engage with, and forms part of why we might see ourselves dating someone. Everyone likes going out for dinner (but also nights in with a film), so try to think of something a little different. I wanted to focus on the things I enjoyed that are more uniquely me me- photography, art, cute animals, DnD, etc. If you have unusual hobbies, that’s a bonus. Well, it is to me, because I’m a nerd and like attracts like, and this is my advice. But really, it makes you stand out from all the people who list ‘eating out’ and ‘watching TV’ as hobbies, as if we don’t all do that. If you’re not comfortable talking about all your hobbies, that’s OK, but the more of yourself you share, the more likely to attract someone similar. I definitely wanted my hobbies to be part of my profile, because I wanted people who accept my interests, or even better: share them. Nobody wants to date someone who thinks their interests are uncool or annoying or something they have to put up with. It definitely made for interesting talking points, and attracting people with lots of stuff in common.

If I mention something, I use examples; something exciting about a book I enjoyed lately, But importantly, I also talked a little about what I find exciting about each of these things. That makes the blurb more than a list of things I do (which my profile already has), and says something about me as a person. It makes things a lot more dynamic than just lists of things that someone likes.  This also stops your profile from falling into  ‘same profile’ territory. 

Most profiles read very similarly, so try to avoid stock phrases and cliches. I can’t tell you how many men love travelling, value their family and friends,  want a “partner in crime” or a “soulmate” or “the one”. More than one wants their “lobster”. How many men “like to go out but also stay in with a takeaway and a film” and “no longer go out clubbing much any more”, and how many are “shy until you get to know me, so bear with me” but appreciate “good banter”. I just got so tired reading these phrases because profiles start to look alike when you leaf through lots of them. And don’t even think about ‘borrowing’ profiles you’ve found online.

This is also why you should keep the obvious to a minimum, because writing about things that apply to everyone absolutely doesn’t narrow things down at all. The people who are reading your blurb want to know what is different about you; whether your weirdness will fit with their weirdness. If your personality, sense of humor and way of life are compatible with theirs. I never explicitly mention I love my family and friends; because that’s widely expected. That’s not even including on all the people who only list their interests as ‘sometimes eating out, watching TV, going to the cinema and listening to music’. Which are all fine, but everyone loves doing those things, so on their own they do not make up a decent profile.

Do your best not to give readers dating profile fatigue. I might be labouring the point here, but when you look over many profiles, it quickly becomes maddeningly evident just how repetitive most of them are. This was one of the most frustrating parts of online dating; you want to flick through profiles until you find someone that fits your criteria (gender, age, etc), looks OK and whose blurb sparks your interest. And obviously, dating sites are an artificial creation; we never really evolved to have the choice out of thousands of people for potental mates. It’s a dizzying level of choice that our brains can struggle to comprehend. But when you’re looking for something; a spark of personality, a sign of common interests, or perhaps an unusual hobby that catches the eye and makes someone seem intriguing, it can be pretty disheartening when it feels like you’re reading the same few profiles over and over again.

Include ideas for how people can start a conversation with you; at various points of your profile blurb. I got this tip online, and honestly it’s probably the best tip out of all the ones that I found, because it definitely yielded results. It can be really intimidating to write to people, so it helps to make your profile a bit more approachable. For example, after talking about books I liked, I asked for book recommendations, or a good song, and after talking about unusual museums, I asked for recommendations a cool cafe or museum they think I might like. It was also great because I could tell that some guys had actually read my profile and engaged with it. When someone writes a long interesting well-thought out reply, it starts really interesting conversations, and is such a nice experience. I also got messaged by people who clearly hadn’t read my profile, had no idea what I was looking for or if we were compatible, and just messaged on a whim because (presumably) they thought I was hot. Though

Spend a bit of your profile describing what you love about your job; they don’t need to know the details, but it’s really attractive to see someone passionate about what they do. What job you do in exact terms is not important. It’s nice to put just enough detail so people get the flavour of what you do, because it makes conversation easier. But technical or jargon-filled descriptions are not interesting in a profile; otehr people aren’t going to understand the intricacies of your job, and explaining the highs and lwos tends to be much more entertaining when you do it in real life. 

Dating advice websites suggest that you should write about what you want in a person, but really, I don’t believe in writing a long list of attributes you want. The longer the list, the more demanding you’ll seem, and the more offputting it will be. People want to be able to imagine themselves with people whose profiles they are admiring, but it’s pretty hard to do that if they have to sit there and ponder if they meet your long list of criteria. People feel self-consious enough when online dating, they don’t want to feel like you are judging them before they’ve even messaged you. I wrote only a very simple one-sentence summary of what I wanted, and most of it was ‘tell me a bit about yourself so we can see if we’d have fun together’. I didn’t think writing a list of things I wanted would help at all; the kinds of men I don’t want wouldn’t read it, anyway.

On a related note, please don’t just list a bunch of things you don’t want in a person, it never reflects well on you, even if what you’re asking for is perfectly reasonable. Sometimes people list an entire bunch of negative attributes they don’t want a date to have, but I personally think that is an incrediblly negative way to go about selling yourself. When we read dating profiles, we want to focus on the fun and the excitement of meeting a potentially new person. I also wouldn’t list things that most people expect as standard. Sure, you don’t want bots, cheaters, people who steal or gold-diggers, but that holds true for most people. By mentioning things like that in your profile, you risk making it look like that’s all you attract, to the point that you have to make announcements about it on your profile. If people are dishonest, and want to scam you or cheat, they aren’t going to stop just because your profile says you don’t like that sort of thing, so it’s basically pointless. The only thing it’ll probably do is put off people who are nice but might wonder what kind of person has to waste half their profile telling all sorts of undesirables to stay away. It’s definitely the wrong focus to put on your profile. People aren’t on your profile to read about themselves, but to read about you and decide if they want to date you; it’s an advert for you. You get to decide if you like them when you read their profile.

Don’t dwell on things that might be seen as negatives or very private; be honest about divorces, kids, geographical distance, having a busy job because these are a big part of yor life, and potential dealbreakers for others. But be careful that they don’t dominate your blurb. If you dwell on heavy topics, it will be harder for people to see you as fun and positive. I say this as someone with their own struggles, and a busy job, who had to make these things clear early on when meeting people. On a dating site, people will first view you exactly as you present yourself; so use it wisely. I’ve read profiles that start with “I just got divorced, lost my job, I have three kids, lost my car, and I have mental health problems”. It’s important to be honest about all these things early on, but don’t lead with them, because that can give a pretty unbalanced view of who you are. Your job on a dating site isn’t to self-stigmatise by focusing on the things you are most insecure about, it’s to present your best side, but be honest about other aspects. Some information is useful early on, because it can be a dealbreaker for people early on (previous marriages, kids, etc), but it is important that your profile isn’t overcome with it. These things are just aspects of who you are.

Whilst we’re at it, don’t disparage online dating in your online dating profile. It isn’t clever, and it isn’t funny. No, I don’t “want to pretend we met at a library”; I’m happy to tell people I met the person I’m seeing online, because I’m a big girl who can go out there to look for something if I want it, and I’m not ashamed to admit that’s what I did. What’s shameful about that? I looked at probably thousands of profiles, engaged with some decent people and met someone I liked and had a lot in common with. How is that worse than hooking up whilst drunk at a bar? Or dating someone because they are one of the few single people you’ve met lately?  Why would I want to date someone who paints looking for someone as inherently shameful, or clearly finds the entire process distasteful? Or even worse, the people who just complain in their profile about online dating in general like “I hate dating sites”, “This never works for me” “Let’s see if this site is any different, I never have success on these things!”. People don’t join a dating site to talk to people who are convinced it won’t work and who spend more time complaining about online dating than trying to meet people. I get it, it can be a stressful experience; we all need to rant sometimes. But save the ranting for your friends and your tumblr, not for your dating CV!

I usually recommend honesty. But you absolutely don’t need to write about why you’ve started dating now in detail.  “I used to  be a party animal, but now my friends are all married/friends and family keep telling me to get married/I’m getting old/I can’t get laid any more so I decided the time is right to find someone” is not flattering for you to write about yourself. People want to believe you’re looking to find something special because you feel the time is right and because you desire intimacy, rather than that you’re settling for them out of convenience or because you’re being nagged into it. People want someone who is dating them to be enthusiastic about the idea. You shouldn’t sound like you’e dating out of a a grudging fear of being alone, your friends have all paired off so you have nothing else to do with your time, or because it’s harder to find casual sex now that you’re older. And yet, I’ve read quite a few profiles that unwittingly paint these kinds of images of their owner. It’s honest, but it might be a bit too raw for something that’s meant to be an advert for yourself.

I don’t believe in writing lots of sappy filler about how you want ‘true love’ or ‘a partner to spend forever with’ etc. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with wanting a life partner, or yearning for a deep, meaningful and fulfilling relationship. It’s that a good blurb keeps redundant waffle to a minimum. Your profile should absolutely list if you’re interested in a relationship, believe in marriage etc. So there’s no need to write entire paragraphs about how much you want true love. It risks giving the impression of being lonely and needy, but it also looks like you’re more worried about finding someone, anyone, than finding someone compatible.

[archmage--khadgar]

Hia! I always feel happy when I see one of your posts pop up on here c: why do you like Khadgar?

*Stares into space* OH GOD THIS IS gonna probably be a long post. HERE WE GO.So uh. I always really like Karazhan and the lore around it, hardcore fell in love with Medivh and pretty much ANYTHING in game that was connected I ate it up. I got the urn, the keys, all the rings, all the rep, you name it. I tried SO HARD to get Atiesh from the old Naxx but that didn’t happen. (I AM STILL SAD ABOUT THAT.) So that was -kind of- the start. In order for the next part to make sense, need to sidestep and backtrack a wee bit for context.Not to be all sob story, but I gotta be honest, I spent most of my childhood alone (either outside or in my room), reading, playing out epic stories with my toys, exploring the outdoors, and most of my social interactions with people I was either being bullied by kids at school or my mother. And y’know, despite all the stories I read or watched on t.v it was a loooong while before there were characters that made me go….”Holy SHIT I know what that’s like!?” Like there was a difference, to me, between characters like Michelangelo and Beetlejuice that I REALLY WANTED to hang out with, and then a character that made me go….”I know exactly how that character feels. What happened to them, happened to me.”Digimon was the show that broke that mold for me when not only were there two characters who had DIVORCED PARENTS!??? Like me, there was a girl who had a REALLY BAD and unhealthy relationship with her mother. (But she was still powered by love, which was awesome.)This kinda started getting me into other stuff because the more characters I found that I could relate to, the easier it was to explain how I felt to strangers and it made friend finding a little bit easier. FAST FORWARDING A LITTLE BIT.

So I certainly have a character -type- that I relate to the most. And it’s chaotic bookwork with anxiety. Fun fact: I am always dubbed “the twilight sparkle” of friend groups IRL because I was always, ALWAYS the one who was solving friendship problems and I did that looong before the show. OOPH. THE BIG PROBLEM. Was that it was getting to the point where all the chaotic bookworms were either: Evil, female (and I love gals, but that’s not my gender identity ORZ), or like. largely hated by the fandom and were always mocked.Or some combination.SO LIKE. Hey, I get introduced to Medivh and his TOWER OF BOOKS and all that shit and it’s like “Fuck yeah sign me up bro, living alone? Shitty mom? I feel you.” But then, y’know. He was a wee bit possessed and not. Exactly the good guy SO THERE WAS THAT.And then. There was Khadgar.I hadn’t been able to find the last guardian book yet, though I had read about the lore highlights online so I was familiar and stuff.And then WoD came out. And Khadgar! Was doing stuff! Which got me excited because it was more of the Lore that I really liked, and during MoP, I was hardcore going…”THE LEGION IS COMING BAAAACK. I JUST KNOW IT. CAUSE WE DIDN’T KILL KJ. SKREE.” I got called crazy and stupid a few times BUT HEY. Jokes on you fuckers I was *right*.Anyways!That first quest chain into Tannan rolls in. And it’s just. Khadgar. Being Khadgar. “Well, then I guess we owe you one.” scene hit every…“Oh fucking god bless Khadgar for the sarcastic sass”Because I really enjoy sarcasm and it’s more obvious in voice chat or in-person but my sass rhythm and tone, especially if I’m ranting is veeery similar to Khadgar’s sass.And then the PUNS. Listen. *Listen*. I hear an opportunity for a pun and I have to take it. I have to. If I try to hold it in my face starts smiling like the Cheshire cat and I sometimes let out a high pitched “eeeeeee” until given permission. After that quest chain, I quickly noticed that no one had rolled a Khadgar blog. No one! And well, I was all about having a blog where I could be free to make jokes all the time. IIRC, my first post was…”The party has arrived~!” Or something like that. I honestly didn’t expect much to happen cause I didn’t have any friends or anything like that and all the wow blogs all pretty much had their followings already and I was uh…a WEE BIT ALONE. But I was like “well even if this blog doesn’t go off I’ll at least have an outlet where I can just be me where no one will harass me.”Cause gotta be honest, I’ve never been well-liked. There was never a place for bookworms who liked puns and had anxiety in the world I lived in. If I acted like myself I was hated, and in order to fit in, I had to be someone else, which was a ditzy stupid, lazy girl. I wasn’t allowed to be trans, (still not back in Maine), or smart, and….yeah.  But hey! On tumblr, I can RP a male character that had my same sense of humor and sass and BE MYSELF and NOT BE A GIRL and all my IRL haters wouldn’t be able to stop me.And then uh, A THING HAPPENED. I no longer have the original blog because of reasons I’ll mention later, so I CAN’T REMEMBER who first started sending me asks but I know @kiyastrasza was one of them (she passed away suddenly a few months ago and I miss her SO MUCH.) But then like, I DON’T KNOW. I know I got a few initial asks because “fuck yeah finally a khadgar blog”  and honestly, I thought my blog was rubbish because it was 80% me just being my sassy nerd self and 20% studying his word usage for more serious things and getting my hands on every scrap of Khadgar related lore.”So I fully expected to get called out on being canon divergent or a shitty Khadgar or SOMETHING. Or have people ONCE AGAIN be like….”This character archetype is annoying and stupid and we all fucking hate him and hate you for rping him.”But that didn’t happen. In fact the EXACT OPPOSITE HAPPENED.My ask box kept getting filled with puns to be approved, rhyming his name with stuff became a thing and now even BLIZZ says “Dadgar” like jfc what even.And then like. I don’t even know, a lot of it is a blur because it all happened so fast but the BIGGEST THING.Was that for the first time ever, being myself wasn’t met with bullying and hate and people telling me to shut up and go away or anything like that.People -loved- Khadgar in-game. And people -loved- finding a Khadgar blog that “when I read their posts I can hear Khadgar’s voice”.  And better yet? KHADGAR WASN’T A VILLAIN! (Don’t get me wrong, I loooove AU’s but imagine being a kid and you can only ever connect to villains and then people hate you anyways IT DOESN’T FEEL TOO GREAT).And uh. Yeah. I don’t really know where to go with this. But yeah! It was the first time where I felt like nothing was wrong with who I was. That there was nothing wrong with being book smart and having a sense of humor and looking death in the face and just eye-rolling and going “Well aiight.”I mean hell yeah there’s been an epic shit ton of drama with people being jealous and making shit up and who the hell even knows what any of that was about anymore, and there’s still plenty of bullshit in my life keeping me otherwise miserable and I’m getting really frustrated that every goal I try to accomplish gets utterly destroyed in some way and I’m currently an emotional husk and I 100% HAVE NOT been myself lately as I’m a mix of grieving and severely hurt and physically ill and I’ve been broken pretty damn hard and when I pull myself back together it’s probably going to be like. 11th Doctor just turning into cranky 12 and not being pleasant BUT. The muse is still strong, the muse is honestly probably the strongest thing about me. Not because I think that I’m actually, really Khadgar and that’s ME you’re talking to in game and Azeroth is real, etc, etc. But it’s strong because that type of muse was already something that was effortless for me and part of my personality foundation. And before the blog it was withering away and crumbling and I had no self-love to keep it going anymore and then the blog happened, and even though I still have 0 self-love, I genuinely hate myself, the love from others healed it, and my love for the character, I think, is my subconscious finding a weird loophole to get around the self-hate because I CAN’T HATE KHADGAR, and fucking hell whenever I make a pun irl and someone is a shithead about it or calls me annoying over voice chat, my brain is like. “Yeah, but if Khadgar were real. He’d laugh.” And eventually, it’s like….”OKAY FINE. IT WAS FUNNY. THAT PERSON IS JUST A SHITHEAD.” I can’t remember where I was going with that. Uhhhhhh……SOMETHING SOMETHING.I absolutely hate myself and feel as if I’m undeserving of love because I’m a horrible, broken person that makes stupid mistakes and is only good for hurting others and being a bitchB U TI hate myself a little bit less when I RP a character, like Khadgar, that lines up with one of my personality foundations, and the general response to it is people loving it and telling them I make them happy.  I’ve still had more hate directed at me in the past (and sadly the present) than I have love. But uh. It doesn’t take much love to get me all sappy and crying and happy.  (Hate is a tossup, a lot of hate I can take but certain, specific things will strike me hard and fast).SO LIKE. Uh. I know the majority of my foundation at the moment is either destroyed or heavily damaged, cause I’ve also been heckin angry a lot lately and I don’t know how to deal with that at all since it’s something new so a lot of my foundation wasn’t protected against that, and I’ve certainly died emotionally a few times more this year than my normal rate of it taking a couple years or more to emotionally die and regenerate. BUT THE PART that’s still holding fast and bouncing off all the negative self-destructive shit is because of Khadgar, and all 1,297 of you (give or take) that’ve either stuck with this blog since the beginning and through a blog deletion and change or have come recently. That send in everything from ARCANE MEAT to puns, to AU ideas to random nice things SO UH. This is turning into an awkward unexpected thank you, to all of you. dashjkIt’s more than likely that I will live the rest of my life absolutely hating myself, and it’s possible that the rest of my foundations may never heal or be repaired. Even though I can easily attach some of them to characters like Khadgar for the most part, I just….eh. I dunno. No outlet and it’s not prompted ever and…it hurts still cause they’re broken. Which, eh, whatever, healing can’t be forced or half-assed, cause you can’t expect a broken leg to heal as fast as a papercut, all you can do is wait and let things heal or you’ll make it worse, but then obviously you can’t heal EVERYTHING otherwise no one would ever be disabled, but REGARDLESS.I may always hate myself. But I’ll always love Khadgar. And YOU guys love Khadgar. And you enjoy me rping Khadgar. So then I guess MAAAAYBE.It helps. With making it worth. Sticking around for a little bit longer.  :T

[junkyardlynx]

You like scary stories? Good. I’ve got one. Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, or whatever. Who fucking knows. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t just one shared fever dream between seven stupid kids. Except the part where the dream was real. Has to be real now that I think about it. Anyway. I’m rambling. About all I can do, right now. Haha. How sad. 

The year was 1998.

Good year.

Goldeneye came out in 1997, so it was really the year 0001 AG to me and my friends. We fucking loved Goldeneye.

I was seventeen and I lived alone in a small town in northwest Indiana. It’s farm country’s farm country. I’d been orphaned and bounced around since I was ten, but being nearly eighteen and relatively well-behaved was reason enough for the state to turn me loose with my inheritance. Quitters. You could stand at one edge of the town and spit to the other end. We had one bar, an elementary school, a post office, a vet, and a corner store. It sucked, but it was cheap and somewhat near the only living family I still had. I lived just above the post office and vet, which was probably the only really neat part of town, so I guess I had something going for me. Add a shitty 1988 Ford Probe bought at cost from a frustrated dealership into the mix and I was up street.  

My uncle Mike lived alone too, a forty minute drive away out by the county line road. He had a pretty nice farm house to himself after my aunt Sherry filed for divorce due to her own extramarital affair. I guess when you’re surrounded by woods on all sides and the only things to keep you company are a host of chickens, a couple turkeys, a goat, a dog, and a...fucking peacock, you kinda get antsy for some excitement. I suppose a two story barn and a grain silo aren’t exciting enough. Anyway. They hadn’t taken me in after my parents died because they had their own problems and I understood. Couldn’t force a kid on someone who wasn’t going to take proper care of it.

Mike was headed into the city for the weekend to shack up with this girl he was into. He did this from time to time, too awkward to ask her to move in with him and too shy to accept her offer, so they just had their trysts. Wasn’t really my business. He called me after I got home on Friday from classes and immediately launched into his request.

“Hey killer, I’m going to see Mary this weekend. Can ya hold down the fort for me? Just feed the animals once a day and don’t let Garfield eat anything dumb.”

“Uh, sure.” 

Garfield was the goat’s name.

I watched him eat the license plate off “Uncle” Van’s...van, once. His name was Van, he was a friend of Mike’s aaaaaand he owned a van. I guess life works like that sometimes, predictable and all. Anyway, Garfield would eat literally fucking anything near his big dumb idiot mouth, like most goats. 

“And uh, I think there’s a bunch of beer in the fridge that’s gonna go bad. Could you do me a favor and get rid of it, bud?”

I could hear the wink through the receiver. I grinned as I pinned the receiver between my shoulder and ear, rummaging around through the cupboards to find my little book of phone numbers.

“Oh yeah, sure thing. Wouldn’t want to have bad beer hanging around in the fridge.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. It better all be gone when I get back. Love ya, kid.”

“Love you too, man. Have a good weekend.”

With an audible click, the other line hung up and I was already dialing people’s numbers. Robert was first, as he was my best and most radically tight brother-man. 

“What’s up, Dingus Kong?” 

Ever since he was twelve, he had the voice of a full-time, carton-a-day smoker. I was honestly a little jealous.

“There’s a beer leak at my uncle’s and we have to plug it up. Call Louis and Alex and make their dumb asses come out. You know the address?”

“Hell yeah, dude. Can I invite Jay?”

“What do I look like, a cop? Of course you can. Saves me the trouble.”

“Cool, later dickless.”

“Peace.”

It wasn’t long until I’d roped Robert, Louis and Jay into things, along with Alex, Laura and June. Alex and Louis had been dating forever and were pretty much attached at the hip, while I had a thing for June. A very quiet, subdued thing, because I operated under the assumption that no one was ever interested and that any thought to the contrary was pointless and asking for trouble. 

We met up at my uncle’s house around 9. They’d pitched in and brought a shit ton of snacks but no one brought any actual food, so our diet that night was going to consist of...Natty Light, snack cakes and chips, pretty much. High school kids eat worse on a daily basis, so no one really cared. I remember being shocked at just how packed the fridge was with shitty Natty Light. Good thing I had good friends.

It was a pretty relaxed atmosphere - Louis and Alex were touchy in the corner of the living room, already a couple beers deep. Robert, Laura and Jay were playing Goldeneye on the Nintendo 64 in the den. They had a penalty game where you had to drink when you died and if you were that fucking prick that picked Oddjob, you both had to take a drink at the start of the round and two when you died. It was fair, believe me. Fuck people who pick Oddjob. 

That pretty much just left June and I. We relaxed in the kitchen, shooting the shit and laughing at each other’s bad jokes. Sometimes we’d look out over the kitchen counter and down into the den / living room - the farm house’s design was always kind of odd to me, but I liked it. The whole house was a one story with a basement. You could come in through the glass sliding door and be right in the living room / den area, then turn right and go up four or five stairs to reach the bedrooms and the turnoff into the kitchen / office area where the front door was. The kitchen had a very open structure, with the sink looking down on the den, and you kinda felt like a commander if sat there and just watched everyone. So I did.

“Hey, Charles?” 

“What’s up?” 

I turned back towards June, taking another sip from that honestly kinda shitty beer in my hand. Ah, the taste of youth - cheap alcohol obtained through immoral or subversive means, like a really cool uncle.

“We should go out to the barn.”

“Why the hell and fuck not?” 

I put on some bravado, but honestly, my uncle’s farm creeped me out. I’d stayed here for the summer once and I swore I could hear things swaying in time with the tall grass as the sun started to die. An animal would go missing every now and then, but my uncle always shrugged it off as coyotes. Never really felt like coyotes, but who was I to disagree when he was the one that lived here all the time?

“Hey, everyone! We’re going outside, time to get up in the hayloft and be stupid.”

I heard a chorus of replies and the click-whrrr of a tube television being powered off, followed by a rowdy collection of feet stomping up carpeted steps. Everyone poured into the kitchen, grabbing things like twinkies and cold hot dogs and new beers. It wasn’t long before we took the party outside, flicking the floodlights on the house on for comfort as much as visibility. We ambled as a drunken mass, slowly making our way towards the faded red barn. 

I have no idea why the barn was so fucking huge, given that less then ten animals lived there. The space was equipped for a sizable amount of large livestock like cows and horses, but all that it held was a collection of idiot birds with too much love and not enough sense. A ladder leading up to the hayloft poked through a square, and we began our inebriated ascent. 

It wasn’t long before we settled into a circle, talking about nothing in particular on the warm wooden floor of the loft. June had taken a seat next to me, so of course, I overthought absolutely everything before determining there was no way she was into me because why would she be? She was way too cool and cute. It was obvious. 

Somehow, we got onto the topic of scary stories. Spooky scary skeleton time. I made up some dumb thing about a cannibal cult in the woods, but it wasn’t very thought out, so everyone gave me shit. Robert just thrust his beer into the air and yelled “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, IT’S ALIENS”, which got a laugh out of all of us. It finally came around to June, who began to tell us about La Llarona, a crying ghost lady in Mexican folklore. 

It was actually pretty spooky until you realized June was like, four foot fucking eight with the voice of an adorable church mouse, and then you were unable to take it seriously. 

We swapped a few more before silence descended on us, slow and natural. The workman’s lamps that I’d lit with a long trigger lighter burned, casting shadows along the walls and illuminating our faces. I smiled as I realized June’s head had come to rest on my right shoulder, feeling not unlike someone blessed by the attention of a regal crow.

“Dude. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry, Illberto.” 

I waved him off with my left hand before looking around. Something was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my hands on it. Honestly speaking, it was kinda like someone had some bodacious body odor going on and tried to cover it up with some sort of perfume. I took as...well, as discreet a sniff as possible, trying to see if it was one of us. 

I don’t think it was, because the more I smelled it, the more I realized it smelled less like body odor and more like that strange stench of death. Sickly sweet, putrefaction rendering the body of something no longer alive into components for bacteria to consume. I kinda wrote it off as dead mice somewhere since I was an idiot at 17. (I still am an idiot, but I was a bigger idiot. Harder head. More impressively stupid. Anyway.) The smell was bothering me though, so I gently pushed June’s head off my shoulder and stood up.

“Since Mr. Crunch and Munch wants some food, I’m gonna run back to the house and grab some chow and booze. Anyone want anything in particular?”

No one really had an idea of what they wanted, so the group just started chanting “FOOD AND BOOZE, FOOD AND BOOZE, FOOD AND BOOZE” at me. I laughed and nodded, giving a sort of half-wave to June who just smiled at me the whole time as I went to climb down the ladder.

Too bad the ladder was gone.

I groaned in annoyance, turning around to address everyone.

“Very cool, who fucked with the ladder?”

“What are you talking about, brother-man?”

Louis piped up, head resting on top of Alex’s. I gestured dramatically at the square hole in the floor, then pantomimed the act of climbing the ladder.

“There was a ladder here. It’s gone now.”

“It probably fell, Charlie.” 

There went Laura, being the voice of reason. I shrugged in assent. Stop making sense, god damn it.

“I’ll just pull a Spidey-boy and jump down. It’s like, ten feet.” 

Something in my head kept telling me that people can die from slipping and falling on ice, but I ignored it. I just had to brace myself, land on my feet and not hit my brain cage. Really simple. 

I walked back over to the hole in the hayloft, sitting down and scooching to the edge. That fucking smell punched me right in the nose once again, pungent and sweet. I almost stop then, but I don’t really wanna look like a goon in front of June. Uh, June and everyone else, that is.

So I stuck my foot down into the oddly deep darkness of the barn below. 

Something wet and hot smacked against it, nearly wrapping around my exposed ankle.

I yelped perhaps the most pathetic sound known to man and physically extricated myself from the hole by leaping up and jumping back. Everyone laughed of course.

“What’s up, penis pump?”

Fuck off, Robert.

“Either the turkeys have really long and slimy necks now, or something down there just grabbed my fucking ankle.”

“Very funny, Charles.” Alex fixed me with a stare, assuming I was taking the piss out of everybody. Holy fuck, I wished I was.

“I’m serious, you assholes.” I’d thrust my right leg out, showing everyone my ankle and foot. A reddish brown goop clung to it, thick and viscous. The smell was emanating from it, and everyone seemed to have taken notice to it. Unless they started retching for a different reason, like my ankle being particularly abhorrent.

“Brother-man, dude, what the fuck is that?”

You’re asking me, Louie Louie?

“Yeah, that’s a negative Ghost Rider, I have no idea. I’m gonna chill up here for a bit, if someone else feels like Rambo, they can go down.” 

I took off my button up and used it to wipe the goo off of my ankle, but the smell seemed to have set in. I noticed a burning sensation on my skin that increased in intensity as I wiped, but it soon faded to a dull throbbing, becoming the least of my worries. In that time, Louis got up to check out the hole.

 He returned to where Alex was, face pale and stiff. 

That’s when we heard it.

“veerrrryfufufufu-”

The sound stopped, then started again. Almost like someone starting a sputtering car engine.

“Verrrrry cocococococo-cokkkkkkkkkhhssssh. Wshooo fufufufufuf. Wshoooo fufufufuckt wishlatter?” 

You ever have someone come up to you and say “hey, we need to talk” and you feel your stomach drop out of your body and onto the floor? 

Yeah, that. That’s the feeling I felt, but way worse. After all, someone wanted to know who fucked with the ladder. Someone who couldn’t string together two words if they wanted to, and they desperately wanted to.

We’d all crammed ourselves into the back of the hayloft, the seven of us together. Oppressive darkness clung to the places not illuminated by the lamps, and the long lighter lay a good ten feet away from us. No one moved to get it. We heard it again and again, some twisted mockery of a voice continually asking who fucked with the ladder. Then it asked again, in my voice.

“Very cool. Who fucked with the ladder?”

Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I shook my head wordlessly as it asked again, perfectly, matching my rhythm and cadence and tone. 

“Hey, if this is a joke because you thought the Goosebumps books were high literature, we’re gonna string you up by your earlobes dude.”

“Fuck off. It’s not. You think I got bored and recorded me fucking around before you all got here? With the tape recorder I don’t fucking own?”

I was hostile.

We were all on edge.

“I don’t know, were you man?”

“Don’t start with me, Robert.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re a lazy piece of shit. I know you wouldn’t do this.”

“I swear to god.”

The tension was almost lifted until we heard that wet smacking again, like someone slapping a steak on pavement. It was hilarious until you realized it was probably either something dead being slammed around, or some part of the mysterious thing’s anatomy. The smacking persisted as it mercifully ceased it’s questioning, realizing it’s bait wasn’t working. Slowly, the wet squelching of flesh against concrete grew quiet and far away and the stench that pervaded the air began to thin.

I appraised everyone and jerked my head back at the hole in the hayloft.

“Okay. Okay. We’re gonna drop down and run to the house.”

“Is there any better option you have that isn’t ‘jump down and say hi to the crazy stinky murder rapist’ below us?”

“Not really, Alex. Sorry.”

“Alex and I can stay up here,” Louis offered, but she looked at him with her mouth agape.

“Are you dumb, Louis? I’m not staying in that barn alone with this thing. No, really, are you an idiot?”

I looked at Louis with a kind of knowing glance, knowing he was just trying to help out and allay her fears. Couldn’t really blame her, though.

“He’s just looking out for what you want to do. Anyway, we should all go. I’ll go down first and keep a look out while everyone comes down. C’mon.”

I honestly don’t know where I found the balls of steel I was now equipped with, but I was thankful. I think it was just this overwhelming sense of “we have to go now or something bad is going to happen.” Without giving anyone a chance to reply, I broke away from our little heard and took a running start at the hole, leaping down it before my rational mind could catch up.

I let my legs hit and then tucked myself into a roll to rob the fall of it’s momentum, coming up unscathed. I glanced around, greeted by deadly...nothing. Just silence. It wasn’t until I looked at the ground that I noticed it was covered in a thick layer of that reddish-brown goop, and it stunk horribly. I started to gag but I had the sense to bite it down. No point in putting more disgusting fluids on the floor.

“Jump down! C’mon!”

I shouted up and June practically leapt into my arms, so I caught her and set her down, giving her a tender smile. She was all of four foot eight and ninety pounds, so it wasn’t really a feat of athleticism. Of course, Robert came next, and my knees buckled as his six foot frame met mine with that peculiar rapport we had. 

“No smile for me?”

“I swear, dude.”

I swore a lot, apparently.

The rest followed in suit until eight of us stood in the barn, devoid of animals as it was.  I hoped they’d just run off or sought shelter, but another part of me said that wasn’t the case. I exhaled roughly and looked at our group before nodding.

“Okay, we gotta run. I don’t know when that thing’s coming back, but I can already smell that weird stink getting stronger. I think we’ll be safe in the house since we can look the doors and call the cops.”

“Wait, cops? Dude, we’re doing a little thing called underage drinking.”

Thank you for stating the obvious, Louis.

“Oh, yeah! Way better to get murdered and eaten. You’re right.”

“Point taken.” 

We all murmured our assent before taking one last look around. The lamps burned, slowly dimming as their fuel began to run out. I think we left the lighter up there. Not that it mattered, I guess. I reached out and took June’s petite hand, tugging her gently towards the house.

“Let’s go.”

We began to do an awkward sort of power walk, too scared to run and draw it’s attention but not intent on going any slower than we had to. Our group of seven began to cut across the field, towards the shining lights of the farmhouse. 

A horrific wet SMACK from behind us broke that fragile discipline that kept us calm. A plaintive sort of gurgling howl, like a tiger braying it’s dying cry inside of a charnel pit spurred us on, and I roughly pulled on June’s hand. Her fingers slipped from mine for a moment, but her strong and lengthy fingers found mine, slick with what I assumed was sweat. I didn’t bother looking back as the warm porch lights flooded my vision. I let go of the hand I was holding and turned around to regard our group of eight, making sure everyone was there.

Wait.

Eight?

June, Robert, Louis, Alex, Laura, Jay, and myself. Seven. I glanced at my hand, realizing it was slick with that peculiar fluid. I kept the gorge rising in my throat down, somehow.

Swallowing both vomit and my fear, I began to inspect everyone before herding them inside, one by one. There wasn’t a face I didn’t recognize, but there was an extra person here. I got June, Alex, Robert, Laura and Louis into the house before I realized it. 

There were two Jays.

“Hey Jake, come inside.”

Jay kinda gave me a weird look, wondering if I was actually an idiot. The right Jay, anyway. The other one just slowly started to walk forward.

“Hey, I said Jake come inside man. Practice your manners dude.”

My stare was insistent on the real Jay’s, begging him to come in and not make a scene. He shrugged and stepped inside, and only a moment later I was behind him, slamming the sliding glass door so hard I thought I’d shatter. 

The Jay that wasn’t Jay pressed it’s face to the glass and that fetid liquid began to pour from it’s nose as it’s now-malformed hand began to tap lightly on the glass. What looked like clothes began to slough off in thick puddles of what looked to be flesh, pooling on the patio.

“Come inside. Hey. Manners. Come inside. Hey. Come inside.” 

Robert had noticed what was going on and yelled in what I’m sure he’d want me to report was a very manly and commanding shout. Basically, he screamed like a little bitch. Everyone else noticed and booked it up the sort little landing to the second tier of the house, not willing to look at what was happening anymore.

I couldn’t look away. It gently tapped at the glass,  as a second figure approached from the darkness, eventually pressing it’s face to the glass.

My face.

I watched my own face melt away into nothing, forming a featureless expanse of skin with two unseeing and empty eye sockets. The me that wasn’t me tapped politely on the glass like a door-to-door salesman, asking to be let in.

That sure wasn’t fucking happening. In a haze, I waddled backwards, reaching for the phone that sat on the coffee table by the sofa in this 70′s decor mess of a living room.

It wasn’t there. The cord lay neatly on the table, but the entire phone was gone. It looked deliberate, which means that...well, it meant that my uncle took it with him.

Something clicked in my mind, but I buried it as I pedaled backwards slowly, approaching the display cabinet that held my grandmother’s prized compound bow. I heard from my uncle that she’d been an avid hunter into her 90′s and only passed due to the ravages of...well, a car wreck. I was never more thankful to have a badass relative I’d never met than when I pulled that compound bow out of the display cabinet and nocked an arrow.

Never mind the fact that the last time I went bow hunting was when I was like, twelve.

I stared down the two creatures, still begging to be let in in my voice. My hands trembled even as I began to draw back the heavy string. God damn, grandma, how strong were you? What the hell. 

I strafed up the steps, muscles in my arms screaming for release, but I told myself that they couldn’t come in unless they were invited. It was just a glass door, and these things weren’t dumb, apparently. I don’t know what they were. I’d met strange things in the woods around the house, but never anything like this. Obviously. The surreality of it all made it seem absurd to even question what they were. 

It wasn’t until I reached the kitchen with everyone else that I could slowly release the tension and lower the bow, though I kept the arrow nocked and ready. I gave everyone in the kitchen a wary nod as they huddled together, staying deathly quiet. Looking over the kitchen counter and down into the den, I could see one still tapping on the glass. The other was gone.

A soft knock at the door by the office let us know where the other had wandered off to. It repeated a broken string of words in my voice, asking to be let in, saying it was very cool. It’d be humorous if it wasn’t fucking terrifying. 

Wordlessly, I huddled everyone back into the hallway and lead them to my uncle’s room, unlocking it with the key I had. It was the furthest bedroom away from everything else and had a clear line of sight to the hallway, so if they somehow broke their self-imposed rules, I could at least take a steady shot. The door creaked open and the bedroom lay before us as I flipped on the light.

My uncle’s room was surprisingly sparse and barren. No personal effects remained and you could tell where the furniture had been moved in a hurry, like someone was looking for something. It gave the feeling of someone that wasn’t coming back, and the discontent in my heart grew. 

“Yeah, think he’s been moving stuff over to his girlfriend’s place.” 

I said to no one in particular, placating questions before they could come out. A barren mattress lay on a box spring in the corner.

“Let’s stay in here tonight. It’s not gonna be comfortable, but a couple of people can take the bed and the rest of us can take the floor. I’ll keep watch.”

“Charles...”

Robert sounded concerned for once. I laughed. I glanced back and his face soured before he smiled.

“Nevermind, you’re still a penis pump.”

Everyone, still slightly drunk and nervous, began to occupy their own space in the empty room. I sat against the open doorframe, bow laying on my lap, trained down the hallway. Minutes slipped into hours, and everyone began to pass into a light sleep.

Everyone except me.

The sight of the flesh sloughing off their mutable frames was burned into my mind. Not much sleep to be found after that.

Throughout the night, I heard taps all around the house, like a diligent inspector checking for termites in wood. If I strained my sleepless ears, I could hear my own voice rattling through the walls. The deathly sweet stench of the barn had returned, permeating my brain and setting up residence there. 

Once or twice, I thought I heard tapping and murmuring at the single window in my uncle’s bedroom, but surely that wasn’t possible. It was a good eight feet of the ground, as the room sat on the second “tier” of the house. I dozed for a moment and the tapping seemed to grow more and more furious, so I shook myself awake. I began to dig the bowstring into my finger, rubbing it up and down, fraying my own skin until it bled. 

I felt like I was going to go insane. 

A few long hours later and the sun began to rise, banishing the tapping noise with it and the scent after that. I rose, looking around at the sleeping faces of my friends, relieved. I looked around the empty room once more and went to close my eyes before I realized there was reddish goop smeared on the window of my uncle’s bedroom. 

I’d been watched, all night.

All of us had. 

How many had there been?

Enough to replace us?

Did it matter?

Adrenaline flooding my exhausted body, I crept around the house and checked every window, every door. They were all smeared with handprints, fingerprints, imprints of faces traced in that corpse-goo. My stomach roiled heavily, the beer and junk food of the night before threatening to come up.

We were supposed to be a sacrifice, weren’t we?

The copious amounts of beer. The lack of a phone. My uncle’s personal effects all gone from his room. I suppose the rest, even grandma’s bow, was replaceable to him. Including me.

I woke everyone up and told them we should leave. No one fought it, considering we’d survived the night by listening to me. It was a sort of hollow and empty accolade, but I’d take it. 

As Robert and June piled in my Ford Probe outside, I snuck a peek at the barn. Dark red stains and the remnants of feathers, fur and flesh stained the outside of it’s semi-dilapidated structure, as if the animals had been killed by being thrown at the walls in anger. I swallowed dryly, realizing what those wet thuds and smacks had been. 

We spent the rest of the weekend together, all seven of us. One night at Robert’s, the rest of the day at June’s. I tried several times to contact my uncle, but his girlfriend’s landline was disconnected and his emergency cell phone wasn’t picking up. 

Abandoned twice by the family that wouldn’t even take me in, I guess. 

I never found out what those things were. My uncle’s house was marked as abandoned and reclaimed by the bank, eventually being sold at auction for dirt cheap. I didn’t care. I’d stayed away from the forested areas and anywhere approaching natural, and even took to a vegetarian diet for a few months. 

Eventually the memory faded, and years later I had almost forgotten about it. Life went on, and I remained in that cozy little apartment above the vet’s office and the post office. 

Until tonight. 

When I smelled something sticky-sweet, like what the insides of a pitcher plant must be.

Where something tapped at the door to my apartment, begging to be let in. 

Where my own voice begged me to be let in.

[thewritewolf]

Rekindle Chapter 29: Werecat

A confrontation a long time in the making.

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@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Marinette watched as Adrien paced in front of her. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, she could see the tension in his jawline and shoulders. She knew that if he was transformed right now, his tail would be flicking back and forth. She reflected that, given the circumstances, his anger was entirely relatable. Even with a cursory glance through the papers, he’d found enough to get him riled up and that was before they’d taken them home and started really digging into them.

It had been a real shock to see what Adrien had uncovered at the mayor’s office. The rest of the night had ended up feeling like a formality - even the discovery of a shard of the peacock miraculous, blackened and pulsing with energy and locked in the mayor’s desk, had only ended up being met with almost business-like indifference. After a certain point, it was hard to muster the energy to get more upset.

Thankfully, the same procedure that worked to cleanse akumas was easily adapted to purify corrupted miraculous. She noticed that the miraculous cure didn’t seem as effective as usual, but considering that all the damage would be primarily in the mayor’s building, they hadn’t been too broken up about it. For both the mayor’s sake and their own, they hadn’t gone back to check on him. Watching Adrien in this state, she couldn’t regret that decision.

She reached out and grabbed the cuff of his shirt, stopped him in his tracks. “Adrien, take a seat. You’re going to wear a hole into the floor.”

“I can’t!” He looked at her with such helpless emotion that was breaking her heart all over again. “Mari, my father blacklisted you from your dream job! And that’s not even touching on all the other horrible things he did to our friends, either directly or by supporting that terrible person!” He crumbled to his knees and rested his head on her legs. “I’m so so so so sorry. I had no idea…”

She lifted his head up to look him in the eye. “Adrien. Listen to me - don’t you dare for one minute think any of this is your fault. It is all on Gabriel and Andre. Not you. Okay?”

“Okay…” With a hesitant nod, he got to his feet. “How can you be so calm about this? You got hit hard by this.”

“Honestly? I’m pissed. But I choose to take it as a compliment. Gabriel Agreste, head of his own fashion empire, thought that I was good enough to ruin him.” She leaned back and crossed her arms at Adrien. “And you know what the best revenge will be? Getting bigger than he ever did on skill alone.” She patted the seat next to her and gestured towards the papers. “Now come on and help me sort through this.”

Adrien seemed to be mulling something over. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I need to go for a run. I’m too angry to think right now.”

“Woah, kid, you sure about that?” Plagg piped up for the first time since they’d gotten home. It hadn’t been the lazy quiet she was used to from Plagg, but a very careful silence. As if he was waiting to see how things would play out.

“I don’t know if it is wise to-” Tikki stopped when she saw Adrien shake his head.

“I can’t help anyone right now. I just… I need some air.”

Marinette stood up and cupped his face. “Then go and get it out of your system. I’ll be right here waiting for you.” She rolled forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t get lost out there, okay?”

He watched her with a tender expression, unable to do anything but nod. “Claws out.”

Once he was gone, Marinette collapsed into the couch. Tikki landed behind her.

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“Adrien is feeling a lot right now. It’s like Hawkmoth’s defeat all over again. I’m here for him, but this is something that he needs to come to grips with before I can do anything to help him. Once he comes back we can talk things out.”

Tikki considered this. “And what about you, Marinette?”

Marinette sighed. “I’ll be happy when I have my kitty back. Until then,” she leaned forward and started working through another set of papers.

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

Chat Noir’s mind was empty of thoughts as he let himself fully sink into the mechanics of running, leaping, and swinging. He had no destination in mind, but ran like a man possessed. As if he’d be able to burn out his anger and frustration with physical exhaustion. For a while, it worked and he was able to outrun his emotions - he became lost in the moment.

Running, however, is only a temporary solution. It took a while, but even his superhuman endurance began to waver and everything hit him all at once. He slowed down, legs becoming tired from more than just physical weariness. His knee hit the metal roof of the building he was standing on and only there and then, alone, did he allow himself to shed tears.

There were plenty of emotions vying for his attention. The most obvious was anger - he was beyond pissed at Mayor Andre, and more especially his father. He had known that Gabriel was not a savory character, even when his mom was alive. It had only worsened over the years, but even at his lowest, Adrien hadn’t expected his father to be capable of such… corruption and vileness. Which lead to frustration. Even in prison, Gabriel was ruining his life and hurting his friends. Shame was hot on its heels - despite Marinette’s reassurances, he knew that if there was anyone that could have noticed this earlier, it would have been him. The money used to torment his loved ones was the same money he’d helped Gabriel make through years of modeling.

Belatedly, Adrien realized where he was standing. The same warehouse that Hawkmoth - his father - had held Marinette in to get at Chat Noir. Like the true coward he was.

His brushed his tears aside and stood tall. There was one stop he needed to make before he went home to help Marinette deliver justice. Gabriel Agreste needed to understand the enormity of his crimes. And who better to do it than him?

So single-minded was Adrien that he failed to notice the white fur taking shape below him and a throaty growl that echoed in the empty space...

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

Gabriel Agreste stared at the wall of his small prison cell. He’d been put into maximum security, solitary confinement as he awaited his no doubt highly publicized trial. There had been no visitors to break up the monotony of his daily routine. Nathalie was gone, likely a victim of the same miraculous that had stolen so much from him already. Adrien hadn’t been seen in months, abducted by his hated enemies. And clearly, all of his business associates were doing their best to divorce themselves from any relationship they had with him. He did not even have Nooroo any more, his one constant companion for the past what? Twenty, thirty years?

Worst of all, he knew that his wife was gone. The machine could not have sustained her for much longer, least of all without his frequent maintenance and care. No, now Gabriel was entirely alone in the world.

...Or at least he was until he noticed the figure in black standing on the other side of his cage, just outside the reach of his pitiful overhead light.

Of course, even in the weak light he would recognize that figure. Even if he hadn’t been spending the last ten years trying to pry jewelry off his body, living or dead, there weren’t many people in Paris who wore cat ears and a leather tail. At least, none that he would allow within twenty meters of him.

His face twisted into a sneer. “Chat Noir. Finally come to gloat at how you defeated the mighty Hawkmoth? How you tore a family apart because of your desperate need to play hero?” He watched Chat Noir flex his claws as his glowing emerald eyes stared back at Gabriel. Despite himself, Gabriel shivered - there was a coldness in that look that he’d never seen in the hero before, no matter what akuma’s eyes he had been looking through.

Instead of a response, Chat Noir said, “Claws in.”

After blinking away the spots from his eyes due to the green light show, he eagerly looked one of his nemeses in the face for the first time. A knot of some unfamiliar emotion knotted in his gut. Despite the suit vanishing, none. "...Son?"

"Hawkmoth."

Gabriel frowned, the much more familiar sense of parental disappointment returning to him. "Still no respect for your father, I see."

"There's no one here by that title. No one here who deserves respect. Let me tell you about some people I DO respect though." Adrien pulls pictures out of his jacket and throws them one by one at Gabriel’s feet.

The first picture was a happy couple dressed in wedding finery that Gabriel could barely remember as one of Adrien’s circle of nobody friends. "This is Alya and Nino. You remember them, right? Well this is their wedding rehearsal dinner. In Venice. Why in Venice, do you ask? Because, as I just learned, they were threatened by Andre Bourgeois to the point that they had to leave this city. They now travel where Alya can report the truth without being blackmailed."

Another picture hit the floor. "This is my former fencing instructor. I'm sure you don't remember him, because you didn't care about how I lived my life as long as I was busy and quiet and cut off from the world. He ran against the mayor several times trying to bring real change and each time he was met with a smear campaign that ruined his reputation and his business. He moved, and last I heard he has a very nice fencing studio in Marseille. He hasn't been back to Paris since."

"Adrien-"

The last picture was tossed directly at his face and Gabriel caught it easily with one hand. He almost wished he hadn’t when he saw his son, smiling wider than he had in years, his arm around a young woman that he definitely recognized.

"And THIS.” His son’s face was a mask of anger. “This is Marienette Dupain-Cheng. The love of my life. And she's still here. DESPITE the horrible competition she endured trying to break into the fashion world. DESPITE the critics who will tear apart anything innovative for ratings. DESPITE the blacklist I found in Mayor Bourgeois's office that had her name on it. The list you gave him."

Long moments passed between them, a silence thick with tension.

“You’ve got nothing to say for yourself.” It wasn’t a question.

“Everything I did was for us, for our family-” Gabriel was cut off by Adrien laughing, a biting, hollow noise.

“You didn’t do it for me,” Adrien spat at him. “You didn’t do it for mom. You did it for your idea of us, some… some fictional version of us that only exists in your head.” He shook his head. “Do you really think mom would have ever wanted you to terrorize Paris for her? Do you think she wanted to spend her last days of life stretched thin in stasis? What the hell would make you think I’d want a supervillain instead of a father?”

Gabriel didn’t have a response to that either and felt his legs give out underneath him as he collapsed onto his hard prison bed. He barely registered the flash of green light as his son - who he realized with dawning horror he had tried to kill many times in the past ten years - left him.

He finally recognized the unfamiliar emotion he was feeling.

Guilt.

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

Marinette took a big sip of her best red wine as her phone rang. She knew they were out of their league with this one, but she knew exactly who to call for help. It was a big enough story to entice her, but if she wanted this to work, she needed to be as honest as possible.

A voice answered on the other end. “Hey, M. What’s up?”

The time for hesitation was over. “Alya, I hope you’ve got a lot of time to spare.”

“For my best friend? I’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Good.” Marinette took a deep, fortifying breath. “I’m Ladybug, and I need your help.”

[candyclan]

Coming out letter to my mom. (FTM) At the start of my transition, I wanted to go by a name that started with an “A”because my birthname did. All the rest of it is basically the same.

THE TRUTH:

I didn’t scream “I am a boy” at my parents. Honestly, my mother (specifically) controlled a lot of what I did, who I hung out with, and what I wore as a child. I believe she has/had an idea about what she wanted out of a daughter since I was born, and really just lived through me. I think she eventually had to give me room to make my own decisions, later in life. I didn’t come out until I was 16, although I had spent 6 months prior to even coming out thinking about my gender identity. I was extremely sheltered. I want you guys to know that I didn’t know what being transgender was until I was a freshman in high school and met my best friend (who is STILL MY BEST FRIEND TODAY) who identified as Non-binary gender fluid. I had never really met someone AFAB that lived to be anything other than female. With that came the knowledge that sometimes, men don’t necessarily have to have penises and I can wear whatever I’m comfortable with. I used to be religious in middle school (raised Christian) but I never found god. It never made sense to me how so many people can put their faith in other people’s ideas of what god is (the Bible) but not listen when their real CHILD comes to them and tells them that they feel uncomfortable in their gender identity. I also came out as bisexual in middle school, after meeting a girl I had a fancy for. To which my mother sobbed and cried and asked how she had failed as a parent. I remember loving pink, it was my favorite color. Pink, purple, blue. My top 3. Now it’s blue, pink, purple but basically the same. I had a pink room, loved hello kitty, let my mom curl my hair with little curlers at night so I could wake up and be somebody different the next day. My brother played with carebears and my Barbie dolls more than I did as a child. I remember a toy gun and handcuffs. I was fairly experimental as a child, I did: Girl Scouts, swimming, piano, soccer, ballet, cheerleading, and more honestly. I always got “boy” toys at McDonald’s (I mean cmon they’re cooler) I just was kinda everywhere. I feel like that’s easier for someone AFAB to be. My brother was harassed by my family for liking girly things but I was never shown that I couldn’t like stereotypical “boy things” by extended family. My mother however in the line at McDonalds I could never forget, turned and looked at me (baseball cap backwards tank top and shorts)and said “So, what?” “Are you batting for the other team” implying that because of the clothes I liked to wear I would be a lesbian. My mother (like I said, kinda controlling and extremely narcissistic) when I was allowed to cut my hair super short for the first time I was 16. Afterwards she has said things like: “but you’re so pretty how could you have cut your hair” “you looked so nice with long hair” I never felt akin to femininity. I was actually VERY uncomfortable with it. I hated being the “weaker” gender. I never wanted my nails painted. It was torture. I acted like makeup and and nail polish was torture, the hairbrush was my enemy. I used to just put my hair up in a low ponytail every day as I got older. I knew she’d never let me cut it all off. Basically, other than wanting to grow up strong and tough and not liking to be treated like a female, I was female. There were parts of being female I didn’t really have a problem with, and honestly that’s why I didn’t come out for so long. I wasn’t in a house or raised by people I knew would accept anything other than me being their “little girl” I was a daddies girl. So between my lack of understanding of where my feelings towards my gender roles were coming from, being encouraged by my family to be girly, not being exposed to gender diversity (or anything queer), and my controlling mother, I remained in the dark about who I was.

TRIGGER WARNING:::(abuse)::::: I was never close with my mother, and actually hated her growing up. To this day she is the most judge mental, self-centered woman I know. My father was funny, charismatic, and lost his shit sometimes. I like to say, 90% of the time he was amazing. We made jokes and could literally finish each other’s sentences. But honestly my father, 10% of the time was abusive. Most of my abuse in my life was covert (narcissistic abuse from my mother) and verbal/emotional/barely physical abuse from my father. He’s 6”3’ 350 lbs and very loud and scary, especially to a young child. He punched a hole in my wall, he threw a remote at a wall and shattered it to pieces, he threatened to kill my dog with a baseball bat in front of me. Which I swear to god he would have done if I wasn’t holding my dog, protecting him. These moments were few and far between, but they were riddled with insults and almost always left me with less than I started with. My father did spank my brother and I, and one time he clapped my brother so well that he left a purple hand mark on his butt. My mother told my father she’d take us away if that happened again. My father never left marks. He never had to, he was so big and would just get up in my face and scream at me. He made me feel helpless. Because he was invading my space I felt physically threatened, and he never actually had to touch me and leave bruises because that threat was already implied by invading my space. I was so young, but I always knew my family wasn’t right. Finally at 16, I stood up to my father for the first time. I didn’t care if he was bigger than me, I didn’t care if I would lose, I was willing to fight for me. Anyway, long story short the police were called because we were screaming at each other in front of his apartment building. I’m not going to say I didn’t fuck up as a teenager, but I never deserved the pressure and the abuse he was dishing out and had dished out my whole life. I knew that. I cut him out of my life just after turning 16, by then I had been questioning my identity. It became easier after leaving my father to fall into who I was. My father is FAIRLY religious and my mother claims to be but she never talks about god, she never prays, and now that my father and her are divorced I don’t think she’s been inside a church since. Losing my father was a lot, despite his abuse he and I were really close and had really similar personalities. The reality of abuse isn’t “well, now I see them as an abuser so now none of that good stuff is left it’s all tainted” I had to struggle with losing someone very important in my life at a young age, for myself.

Arguments against me being trans:

My family has been a bit divided in responding to me coming out. By now, it’s been about 4 years.

My mother and her side of the family are in denial. They don’t understand how I can’t be a “lesbian that just likes boy things”. They don’t use my name or pronouns.

My father, what little communication I have with him now, is bewildered. He and I had a discussion this past Christmas where I brought up what his abuse did to me mentally and he apologized but then tried to say “well what about your part in all of this” and said that I was hanging out with crazy depressed people, cutting myself, doing drugs, (I was smoking weed and I’ve tried acid like once piss off) and was sneaking out. Yeah. I did do all of that BUT GUESS WHAT. IM 20. I go where I wanna go. I fuck who I wanna fuck. I smoke what I want and guess what? It’s not any different from when I was 16 except now I don’t have parents up my ass telling me what to do. His argument basically was that I need to own up to what I did too and that fucking angered me. You don’t apologize and then go “well what about you” that’s not an apology. That’s deflection and honestly I don’t think I need to apologize because my parents were super controlling. I was just trying to do what I wanted and they didn’t like it. He and I have talked about me being trans and he pretty much thinks I’m certifiable. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

My brother: Ethan, my brother and I have always been close. He’s 17 now, and he had a different reaction to me being trans. Of all of my family he was the most receptive to my pleas of gender dysphoria and he suffers with anxiety so he gets stuff. But alas, after asking him if he’d call me by my name and pronouns (after 4 years of being out) he thinks that I am the one that has an issue with society. I told him I was starting T soon and he said: “Hrt won’t lessen all the things that come with being transgender. If you feel like doing hormones is the best for you then do it, but from a logical standpoint I think there just needs to be more thickening of skin” he claimes that if I try hard enough I could be fine living as female. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

None of my family supports me. None of my family understands. And none of them ever will. I have been out for four fucking years. I can’t tell you how frustrating family rejection can be. I have cried so much at the idea of not having a supportive family. I feel like I was ripped away from a beautiful life somewhere and thrust into this mess.

Honestly though, it doesn’t matter, the world keeps spinning and I keep finding people who love and accept me for who I truly am. I have made peace with my family’s lack of acceptance. It’s made me stronger and more compassionate towards others. Made me want to be better than them. I am actually going to start hormones soon, and on top of other fears I have, will be cutting my family out of my life. I can’t be 25 with a full beard and getting misgendered by my family. I can’t do it. They may feel like I’m going too far, that I don’t have to do this, but I do. I’m not doing this because I didn’t get too much attention as a kid or my mom favored my brother over me, I’m not doing this because it’s cool, I’m not doing this because I’m bored, I’m not doing this because I hate myself or anyone else. This is AFFIRMATION. Sometimes, cutting people who can’t see you for who your really are out of your life is affirming too.

Guys, girls, people, keep your head up. Things get better, I know. I thought life was never going to get better so I know that’s what it can feel like. But it does. Never ever let someone control your life or who you are. You’re beautiful/handsome/amazing! You deserve to be comfortable in your own skin and to love who you are. I am getting there, we all are.

Love,

Tanner M.

[the-far-bright-center]

Update :)

Hey everyone, it’s been a while. You may have noticed that lately there’s been a bit of a decrease in daily posts here, and that I haven’t been as consistent with tagging, etc. For the past three months, I’ve been in the middle of an unexpected and extremely stressful house move. During this time, I’ve had very unreliable and inconsistent internet access, so I decided to run this blog on a queue, and add to it with intermittent reblogs whenever I could get the chance. To say it’s been frustrating is an understatement, and I sincerely apologize to those of you who have messaged me or sent me asks during this time – I’ve been so exhausted, it’s been impossible to keep up with everything.

Thankfully, the house move is now winding down (we’re now finally in the new house, but still unpacking, settling in, etc.), so I should at least be able to resume curating this blog with more of my usual attentiveness. I’d like to say that everything will now go back to normal, but….I’m honestly not quite sure what ‘normal’ is anymore. Over the last few months, I have been thinking long and hard about my continued involvement in SW fandom, and have come to some difficult, but, imo, necessary, conclusions.

Don’t worry, I am not leaving tumblr, nor am I going to stop posting on this blog. It means too much to me to do that. However, I feel I must make it clear that, from here on out, I can no longer have anything to do with any current or forthcoming ‘New Canon’ material, whether it be films, tv series (animated or otherwise), novels, comics….just…none of it. 

Most of you know me well enough by now that I don’t think I even need to explain why, but I will do so, just in case.... 

I had always intended to completely divorce myself from the Disney stuff once Star Wars: Rebels had finished airing, but since, for a variety of reasons, it turned out that I was never able to finish watching that show through to its conclusion, this ended up happening far sooner than I’d expected. (I won’t even get into my thoughts on the renewed Clone Wars season – the less I say about it, or even acknowledge its existence, the better…for the state of my mental and emotional health, at the very least.)

My reasons for wanting—no, needing— to stay as far away as possible from Disney’s version of Star Wars from now on are many and varied [see here, here, here, and here], but ultimately it comes down to several inter-related issues, the most key being that ever since TFA, I have not been able to trust Disney with Star Wars, and will never be able to fully trust them with it ever again. It does not matter how much ‘good’ material they put out to balance out the bad, it’s too late…the damage is done. And since the version of SW as put forth in the sequels is probably the worst, most out-of-character, inaccurate, and disrespectful interpretation of my beloved story that I could possibly imagine, I therefore cannot help but view the rest of Disney’s output (however innocuous, and regardless of who writes/directs/creates it) with extreme skepticism, and an anxiety bordering on panic.

As I’ve gone over many times before, the entire premise of the so-called ‘sequels’ is anathema to pretty much all of my long-held beliefs and understanding of the saga as a whole…and to what I had, for decades, assumed that other fans implicitly understood and valued as well. And so, the fact that so many fans have so readily embraced those movies and swallowed down Disney’s bizarro version of the SW saga without hesitation or question, has continued to leave me feeling more and more heart-broken and ostracized. Not only from an entire fandom, but also from popular culture in general. It’s made me realize that, for far too many people, ‘Star Wars’ is indeed just a blockbuster series of movies, and is not the mythical two-part saga that it is to me. For far too many people, it is now, at worst, an endless, profit-churning franchise…at best, another version of an expanded universe, albeit one that has been corporately ‘canonized’. 

The fact that I can no longer relate to most other SW fans is beyond depressing for me. Something I used to take for granted – the universal appeal and relatability of Star Wars as a modern myth—no longer exists. I can’t even talk about my beloved Star Wars with people in RL anymore, lest someone let slip a spoiler that will break my heart all over again.  It is no wonder that the lead-up to every subsequent release since then (even the ones I have been actively ignoring, which is most of them) has left me a shaking, nervous wreck….and given the often fragile state of my mental health in general, this has been downright dangerous for me at times. Even just stumbling across or hearing about SW related news and announcement can leave me distressed and despondent for days on end. It takes a herculean effort for me to then reclaim a positive headspace and find my ‘happy place’ again after something like this. So I blacklist as much as I can, but it doesn’t always work, because… in order to keep this blog even remotely active, I have to peruse other SW blogs for content. And, given my need to AVOID spoilers like the plague, I struggle to do this at the best of times. Disney has so oversaturated the market with their output that sometimes it seems like every damn day there is yet another announcement of some new release. It’s just too much, and the fact that there is no end in sight is demoralizing as hell. (I dream of creating a time machine and going back to before all of this shit, just to make it stAHP.) Ultimately, all of this combines together to leave me feeling completely alienated, stressed out, and just plain unhappy.

But no more, I say. This is FANDOM….it’s supposed to be FUN. It’s supposed to make me happy. Life is already horrifically depressing and stressful as it is. And what is more… this blog in particular is supposed to be my safe space. That’s what I created it to be, in the first place.

In short, the conclusion I’ve reached is this: in order to continue enjoying the REAL my preferred version of SW in the way that I need to engage with it, I MUST completely remove myself from new Disney content. If I do not, I will lose the ability to enjoy any of it at all. 

So, my friends, while I’m not going anywhere (not just yet anyway), I do need to ask you all to please continue being patient and understanding with me about these above-mentioned issues. If you want to engage in meta discussions with me, for instance, please be aware that I will only talk about interpretations of ‘Star Wars’ as Lucas’ saga (and anything that is supplementary or supportive of that), and will not engage with anything that tries to insinuate that the sequels nonsense is even remotely part of the same story. Likewise, I beg you all to please refrain from commenting on my posts or messaging me about anything to do with upcoming releases, news, or any Disney Star Wars stuff from this point on. Again, I’m happy to discuss past content…to an extent (if you’re not sure what, please feel free to message me for clarification). But any new Disney content I just….don’t want to hear about. At all. Even if you THINK I will like it or be ok with it. The fact is… I won’t. Because Star Wars is finished. It’s a completed story. ‘IT IS ALREADY OVER. NOTHING CAN BE DONE TO CHANGE IT.’  I neither want nor need any more from it – whether as a story OR a ‘franchise’ – than what already exists.  And I become stressed and anxious the moment anyone (purposefully or inadvertently) suggests that I ought to be watching/reading/seeing/hearing about what I personally feel is just a fake version of the REAL THING that I hold dear.

Finally, I just want to clarify that, because of all of this, it’s unlikely that I will be able to keep this blog up-to-date with all the ‘latest’ content (not that I ever have done so, lol). I will, however, continue to keep it to the standards I have set so far. As always, the subject matter will be mostly be Prequels Trilogy, along with the (original!!) Clone Wars animated series (aka, seasons 1-5), Rebels (but only up through season 4a), Rogue One, and, of course, the Original Trilogy. Some supplementary material from those eras may creep in, along with occasional EU content. I just I thought I’d better make it clear that there won’t be any further ‘new canon’ on this blog…. at least, not unless some kind of unforeseen miracle happens and Disney decides to de-canonize their shitty sequel trilogy and magically make me trust them again! (ha ha I can dream)

Because it’s so difficult for me to find new content on tumblr without running into stuff I do not want to see, I have for a while now had the goal of creating my own content for those times when I can’t find anything new. Frustratingly, due to the house move, I’ve been way too busy to even contemplate that in recent times, but I do have some still-unfinished and in-progress projects that I’d like to eventually share here. In addition to this blog, I also ‘curate’ my own RL Star Wars collection, so once I get a new safe place to set it up, expect regular photoshoots of my action figures and other collectibles as well. :)

Most of all, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has stuck with this blog for so long. Thank you for respecting my various quirks, neuroses, and eccentricities, and for helping to keep this blog a safe space.

And to any new followers out there…. a belated, but very warm, welcome! :)  

[landonho1993]

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