#i can’t tell if it’s like. a little bout of seasonal depression or what but i get this way almost every january

[aturnoftheearth]

girl who literally has a destiel event going on for the next two weeks: i think i might be done with destiel

[beenbaanbuun]

meet me in the woods w/ Mingi

words - 3.5k

genre - fluff, friends to lovers, college!au

warnings - emo!mingi, drummer!mingi, pink!mingi, fangirl!reader, kissing, mentions of seasonal depression, mentions of a broken ankle, reader is down bad, so is mingi, they’re both idiots in love, kind of groping but not really sexual

————————————————

there’s still a chill in the air as the seasons flip from winter to spring. it shows in the way the air around you fogs up with every breath you exhale and the way the skin of your exposed thighs pricks up in little bumps. realistically you should’ve worn a pair of jeans rather than a skirt, but that would defeat the point of this whole thing you had going on. a sort of good-riddance-to-winter protest, in which you try to ignore the fact that winter was very much still in play.

although you have to admit you may have been a little too eager. you claim to have your reasons to pretend that winter is already over, but even those reasons seem a little obsolete as you sit on the picnic table awning, shivering every few seconds. perhaps your way of saying goodbye to your particularly bad bout of seasonal depression will have to be shoved to the back of your closet for a few more weeks. just until you're sure you won’t get frostbite.

you shuffle back a few inches, just enough to give yourself room to swing your legs back onto the awning. you have to go down the way you came up; that was a lesson you’d learned the hard way. a broken ankle and a particularly long lecture from your mother about making ‘sensible decisions’ was not something you care to repeat. she, of course, would blow a fuse if she knew you still frequent this spot years later, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. besides, you’re well trained in how to get up and down from your favourite thinking spot, now.

you already have one leg up when you hear a creek coming from behind you. your neck twists in time to see a hand slam itself down on the wooden surface, fingers splayed as they work their hardest to pull the attached body higher up. you recognise the rings like the back of your hand and as you watch mingi struggle, you can’t help but sigh.

“how many times have i told you how to get up here?” you grumble, loud enough for him to hear over his own strained grunts. the single hand that you can see moves until you can see a middle finger pointed in your direction, and you have to laugh, “you seriously can’t remember? right hand on the roof, left foot on the fence, and push yourself up.”

even without seeing his face you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. he’s heard this lecture from you a bajillion times before, and yet he never learns. it’s always right hand, right foot and pull with him - almost the exact opposite of how you instruct him.

“have you considered that i’m, like, twice the size of you?” he says as he corrects his form and finally manages to raise himself up. he swings his right knee onto the platform and rolls his gangly form onto it. you’ve seen more grace from a new-born horse, but you keep that to yourself as you watch him sit himself up and shuffle closer.

“if anything that would make it easier for you, y’know, since you don’t have to jump to reach the roof.”

you turn your body back to how it was, dropping your legs again so you can swing them over the ledge. the platform looks out over nothing but forest, and you quickly find a particular branch to focus your eyes on as the giant sits in his spot next to you. your hands subconsciously brush over the pair of initials that have been scratched into the wood when you were both teenagers. a small, neat set done with a whittling knife stolen from your father, sitting just beneath a much larger, much messier SMG that mingi had done with the biggest kitchen knife he could find. his mother never did discover how her carving knife missing for a few hours only to return to the knife block covered in moss and dirt.

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters as he drops his legs down to swing them at the side of yours. your pink sneakers look a little out of place besides his platform doc martin’s that he always wears, despite not needing the extra height, but somehow the contrast feels natural to you, “i thought i’d find you up here. went to your dorm to search for you but your roommate said you were out.”

“and you assumed i was here?” he nods, not bothering to look at you. he too has found a distant branch to focus on.

“where else would you be?” he nudges you with an elbow, “god knows you don’t go to your lectures…”

he’s right about that. you’d given up on college very early into freshman year, and yet you’re somehow still passing. not well, you have to admit, but enough to get a degree at the end of the year.

“my classes suck, mingi,” you clarify as you rip your focus away from that one specific branch. looking at the same thing was getting kind of boring, you realise, so instead you lay down on the dirty wood and stare up at the canopy. the february sun only just pokes through the fir-canopy, dousing you in just enough light to make your skin a little warmer. there was that heat you were hoping for earlier, “why would i go to them when clearly i can pass without?”

“fair point.”

you close your eyes, basking in the light that bathes you. there’s still a slight breeze that makes the fir needles rustle above you, a few of them raining down whenever a particularly strong gust comes along. one lands on your thigh, but it’s quickly brushed off and replaced by mingi’s warm hand. he must’ve been keeping it in the pocket of his oversized korn hoodie, you think to yourself as he squeezes your thigh.

the hoodie is an old favourite of yours. you’d bought it for him a couple of years ago, and it had soon joined what you like to call ‘the elites’ - the small collection of about three hoodies that he had in permanent rotation. it fit him better now than when you first bought it for him. he’d bulked up a lot, after all.

you still couldn’t get the sweet image of him opening the gift with a wide grin on his face out of your head.

he kissed your cheek on that day.

you always seem to blush at the memory.

“why did you come searching for me, anyway?” you say after a few moments of silence. his hand remains firm on your thigh, fingers drumming a rhythm against your leg gently, “don’t you have cooler people to be hanging out with?”

he hums, “all the cool people i know are busy today,” you swing your foot to the side to kick his shin. he lets out a laugh at the little tap - he knows you can kick harder than that - before giving your thigh a gentle tap in return, “besides, maybe i want to hear about all your little kpop groups.”

you scoff at him.

“no, you don’t.”

“no,” mingi agrees, “i don’t. but i do want to spend time with my favourite little fangirl.”

you giggle at him, opening your eyes just in time to see him turn to you with a wonky grin on his face. it seems he’s bored of staring at his branch too since his gaze doesn’t go back to it after a few seconds. it remains on you, boba-pearl pupils staring into your own as the rays of sun make them glisten.

he looks cute like this, you think to yourself. his short pink hair rustles as the wind blows it about. for a man who made so much fuss about the colour when you first dyed it, it has taken him a long time for him to go back to the bleach blonde that he loves so much. part of you likes to think it’s so he can match your own pastel pink hair - that’s a normal thing for best friends to do, right? - but you also know that he’s fiercely protective over his hair and definitely wouldn’t keep it just for your sake.

it needs a trim, you think to yourself as you watch it brush against his eyebrows. you wonder if he’ll let you do it again. he hated it the last time, so you assume the answer will be no. then again, there’s no harm in asking, right? you make a mental note to do so later, wanting nothing more than to see the same cute pout he wore last time you butchered his hair. it’s an expression that he only ever wears around you, much like that sweet smile he’d had moments prior. it’s a softness that he keeps close to his chest, a far cry from the cool exterior he tries to keep when he’s around everyone else. not that you mind the tougher side of him - it’s hot… really hot - but the sweet giggles and adorable nose scrunches will always be your favourite things about him.

“you said everyone else was busy?” you mutter, not bothering to break eye contact to go back to sunbathing. he takes the hint, and brings his legs fully onto the platform so he can face you fully. it’s much better, you think, this way you can see him more clearly, “what are they doing?”

he shrugs.

“i don’t know,” he begins to rub your thigh up and down subconsciously. he does it a lot when he’s talking. if it’s not your thigh - which it usually always is - then it’s his own, or the arm of a chair. it’s just something to keep his hands busy, you suppose, “i think some of the guys wanted to go over melodies, which they don’t need me for. jongho was saying he thinks it’d be cool if there’s a section where his voice and san’s guitar are kind of in sync? i don’t know, it sounds cool in theory but i don’t know if san’s guitar style necessarily matches jongho’s vocal style well enough to do that.”

you watch as his face lights up, just like it always does when he talks about music, or his band. he could talk about their newest ideas for hours, and most of the time you let him. you like to listen to the way his voice rises an octave when he gets excited, and watching his facial expressions never gets old. you love the way he talks with one hand, all while keeping the other firmly on your thigh; or his, or the arm of a chair. it’s nice to see him still so passionate about all the same things he was as a teenager. sometimes you’re even sure you can feel his excitement for him.

it feels an awful lot like butterflies in your stomach.

“and i mean, i know i’m just the drummer but,” you quirk your eyebrow at him and he stops himself talking. a pink flush rises over his face as he realises his slip up, “i didn’t mean just the drummer, i just meant that as the drummer, i don’t know as much about the music theory side as the guitarists do… i hit things, y’know?”

“you hit things very well, though,” you tease, using a manicured finger to poke at his knee. he catches it with the hand that isn’t occupied by your thigh and just holds onto it. its another thing he does a lot; not quite holding your hand, but definitely toeing the line, “and that’s coming from me!”

he rolls his eyes at you, and you were sure that if both his hands weren’t occupied with some other part of your body, he’d make the effort to lean forwards and place a finger over your lips to shush you. again, touching your lips like that it’s just something he does with you, just like almost holding your hands, and playing with your thighs. it’s all completely normal best friend stuff…

except you weren’t this touchy with any other guy. the last time you let a man get this close to you was when wooyoung tried to teach you guitar by moving your fingers into the correct positions for you. there was barely any contact between the two of you, and yet mingi sulked for days. part of you wanted to call it strange, but when you spotted him giving a pretty emo girl his drumsticks after a show, you gave him much of the same attitude.

you wouldn’t call it jealousy, per se, although maybe there was a little bit. mingi was your best friend after all. you have something special with him. something different that you have with no one else and you feel a way that you feel with no one else and-

oh.

oh.

suddenly the hand on your thigh felt very heavy, and you noticed the way his fingertips gently dip under the hem. had they been doing that the whole time? and you couldn’t help but feel like the way his thumb rubbed against the tip of your finger so softly had some type of further meaning behind it. not to mention the neutral yet unbelievably gentle look that took over his features, making him look even more pretty than usual in the scattered rays of light.

his lips were parted every so slightly, revealing that single wonky tooth that you found oh-so adorable. for a second you wondered what they would feel like against your skin, but you soon shunned the thought away as you remembered, oh yeah, the korn sweater. you’d felt them before. you know just how soft and gentle they are. it’s something that often plays on your mind and every time it does, you feel that same burst of excitement built up in your stomach. the one you get when mingi speaks about his passions. the one that feels like butterflies.

it is butterflies. fuck, it’s the whole damn zoo! a stampede of elephants charging though your body each and every time he does something that you find even mildly endearing. it just so happens that you find damn near everything he does endearing. you’d think those elephants would be tired of running by now…

“mingi,” you sigh, breath coming out in a plume of mist. you’d forgotten how cold it was in his presence. being around him just seemed to warm you up, “mingi, come here.”

he furrows his brow, but shuffles a tad closer. you almost groan in disappointment as he takes his hand away from your thigh, the skin immediately growing cold at the lost contact.

“what’s up, sunshine?” you feel em your eyes go wide at the nickname. you don’t know why; he uses it for you all the time.

“mingi, i’m confused… and a little scared,” you admit, although you didn’t know whether it was necessarily the truth. it was probably the closest word to describe how you were feeling though. with the way your heart was threatening to beat through your chest, and the way your stomach churned with nerves and the way your stupid brain had only just managed to catch up with how you had felt all along. it hurt, and it was painful and confusing and yeah, scared was probably a pretty good description.

“scared?” his voice grows serious as his eyes scan you up and down. once he sees that you’re fine physically, they return to your face. he looks just as confused as you feel, “what are you scared about? are you okay? hurt?”

you shake your head, taking in a deep, shaky breath. you let it out in yet another cloud of fog and watch at it floats away into nothing. you wish your butterflies, elephants, would do the same. it would make this whole thing so much easier.

“i’m fine, mingi,” you say, “just scared.”

“can you tell me why?” you nod, although it takes everything in you to do so.

“i want to kiss you,” you admit.

“kiss… me?”

you nod again, feeling a familiar heat rise to your face. the same one you get whenever mingi compliments you, or touches you. you can't believe it’s taken this long to finally figure it all out. it all feels so obvious now.

“i mean… yeah?” he stutters, “kiss me, yeah… yeah that sounds okay- i mean good! it sounds good… kissing, that is.”

if you weren’t feeling completely and utterly out of your depth, you’d have giggled at him. cutie pie you think to yourself before the heat in your body immediately gets more intense, and the elephants not only increase in number but in size too.

it’s now or never. before you can talk yourself out of it, you need to kiss him. because talking yourself out of it could be so easy. you could hop off of the awning, run back to your car and drive back to your dorm. sure, it would hurt when you would inevitably have to lock yourself away in embarrassment and never see mingi again, but time heals all wounds, right? and by the time you’re 50, the pain and embarrassment will have definitely almost healed over…

“so?” he mutters, pulling you back from the fantasy your brain had created, “are you going to do it?”

“i, uh…”

“i mean, i can if you want me to,” he shrugs, trying his hardest to play it cool as if he hadn’t been stuttering seconds prior. as if his face wasn’t just as pink as the mop of hair that sat atop it.

there is nothing cool about this man, you think to yourself as you push yourself into a sitting position. maybe that’s why you’re so attracted to him. his nerdy tendencies had tugged you in, and he’d worked his dorky little ways on you until you were hook line and sinker for him.

down bad, as the kids say. down so horrifically bad…

“i can do it,” you whisper as you look up at him with wide eyes. your lips are mere inches from his own, and his hot breath fans across your cold face. his eyes are on yours just briefly before they flicker down to your lips. they rested there for a second before making their way back up to yours, “i can kiss you,” you whisper.

“you can,” he mutters back, bringing his own face close enough to yours that you’re not even sure a sheet of paper would slip between the two of you. his tongue darts out to wet his own lips, gently brushing against yours too. your breath hitches as your last sliver of resolve vanishes. that’s it, you tell yourself, you can’t hold back anymore.

the tiny gap is closed as you press forwards, slamming your lips against his. your fingers shoot up to lace themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, and his find a home on your waist. his eyelashes flutter against your face as he shuts his eyes, and you follow his lead, doing the same. it’s nice, you realise, the darkness letting you focus on how his lips feel moving slowly against your own. they fit perfectly, like they were always meant to be there.

he deepens the kiss briefly, tilting his head ever so slightly to get a better angle. it’s a little rougher at this angle, but you can’t find it in you to mind as he takes control. the desperation you feel from him as he moves his lips harshly against your own was something you feel yourself, so you let him take what he needs, taking just as much in return.

and by the time he pulls away, you’re both panting. rapid and hard and together. his lips have barely left your own as he catches his breath, but you don’t pull back either.

“fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, “that was… nice?”

“yeah,” you agree. ‘nice’ seems the best way to describe it, although it was so much more than just that, “it was nice, wasn’t it?”

“so nice, sunshine,” he says. a few beats of a silence pass before he presses his lips against yours again, this time for a much shorter, much more innocent peck. you can’t help but giggle as he pulls away. there’s a grin on his face too, “wish we’d done it sooner, though.”

you nod, “yeah, me too.”

“but we have all the time in the world, right?”

he pecks you again. this one lasts a few milliseconds longer than the last, not that you’re counting. when he pulls away, you chase it. another peck, this time led by you, but equally as brief as the other two. it’s his turn to chuckle.

“cute,” he grins, “you’re so cute.”

you get shy under his words and pull back just a tad. the grip he has on your waist refuses to let you go too far from him. you don’t mind; not at all. the fact he wants you so close actually sends the elephants feral. you feel them reach up to your heart to work their magic on that too. it probably isn’t healthy for it to beat at the speed that it is, but you really can’t help it. the elephants seem to respond to mingi and mingi alone. you don’t mind that either.

not at all.

[welivetodream]

The many stages of depression: (TW)

Depression is one of those feelings that a lot of people have experienced at least sometimes in their lives. It is quite correct to state that everyone at one point in their life have been through it or will go through it. Some get depressed more than others; it could be due to environment, abuse, loss, bullying, mental disorders, stress, poor health, etc.

It is something widely experienced but not widely explained. The mystery of why depression happens to certain people can boil down to their psychological state but should not be considered the single parameter for its existence. Depression like cancer can happen to anyone regardless of any amount of money, status, love or psycological wellness they have. And like Cancer you can't just tell someone with depression to just ignore it or say they are overreacting.

As someone who goes through bouts of seasonal depression and lives in a place where depression is not even considered "real". I have broken down depression according to personal experience into 5 stages.

I am not a medical professional ( I do want to become a psychologist) or someone who can give advice on this topic. But as a patient of depression for around 2 years I can give a little insight into it. Just because I said there are 5 stages doesn’t mean it has to be these stages only, or in the same order.

Here it goes:

1. Anger: just like the stages of grief I always thought the 1st step towards depression starts with anger. It could be outbursts, sudden rage, irritation, annoyance, physical reactions such as intensive urge to kick or punch something (I always have days when I want to burn buildings down and kill my classmates). These reactions can be due to the sudden change in mentality we get before full blown depression kicks in. When we just hate every thing. Everything is stupid. Everyone is being annoying. One of our 1st reactions to anything upsetting is to be mad about it. Depression is not an exception. Anger is where you start. When you start to blame everything around your for causing the pain you are going through. This stage is very important, it is always good to take out your anger before it becomes too much. During this stage I am at my peak of annoyance and can be diabolical.

2. Paranoia: the stage that continues what anger started. This is when realisation kicks in that something is wrong in your mind. You can become paranoid of everything around you. Why is my friend ignoring me for 5 minutes? Why did my parents became quiet when I walked in? Why does it feel like someone is watching me? Why can’t I trust anyone? This is when you are at your peak in terms of insanity. I have been in this stage for the most part of my depressive episodes. Especially as an intuitive, paranoia can be disturbing and harmful to your mental health. It makes you question silly things that don’t even matter for the sake of increasing your blood pressure and start to isolate you from social life. That’s where stage 3 will come

3. Withdrawal: not the withdrawal due to addiction. This is when you start isolating yourself from others. Paranoia put the seed of doubt in your mind about people and how you don’t want them to be near you. People can be a problem sometimes. And this stage is just what being isolated means. This is also the stage people are the most familiar with, because it is often what depression is portrayed as: isolating yourself from other humans as way to build a wall to protect yourself from what paranoia caused. During this time I stop taking calls from my friends, family, anyone. I stop messaging or replying. I often stopped eating with family or having lunch at school with my friends. As an introvert this stage isn’t even that hard, but there is a difference between the choice of isolating yourself because you don’t like to be around strange people and the want to isolate from people you care about.

4. Sadness: the most well known stage of depression, some people mistake it for the definition of depression, which is so wrong. After isolating yourself, you become vulnerable. This is that stage of vulnerability and mostly when people start to have negative thoughts (suicidal thoughts). Sadness itself can’t be explained that well, other than that it leads negativity, hopelessness and the lack of interest in anything cheerful. When I get into this stage, my depression is the most apparent to other people. This is when my mom steps in and ask if things are wrong. And I say #fine when I am so not. Sadness can manifest in tears, coldness, increased self awareness, intrusive and harmful thoughts etc. This is one of the hardest and longest stages to overcome. Yet not as harmful as the next one…

5. Numbness: let me deep breathe before this……this is the most dangerous stage of depression. Every stage before this one had some sort of emotion in it. Anger, paranoia, withdrawn, sadness. But Numbness is the lack of any emotion that can be experienced, even negative ones. You lose all your hope. All your wishes and goals. Everything becomes a barren wasteland of nothingness. The lack of emotions is the worst thing that can happen to you. Just like how you die when your heart stops beating, having numbness to emotions will as in many cases lead to death. Unfortunately, this is the stage when most suicides take places. The inability to have any interest in life and getting overwhelmed from the fact you stopped living the moment you stopped feeling. Have I been in this stage? Yes. But since I am alive there must be a way out of it.

When I said 5 stages of depression, it was meant for those who sadly ended their lives because of it. Stage 6 is for those who made it out alive.

6. Acceptance: again like the stages of grief Depression ends with acceptance. Accepting your problems (I am the problem it's me!), accepting yourself as a problem, accepting help from people who care for you and accepting the little hope left deep down. If you made it to this stage, you are capable of doing anything you want.

Note: You are worth it! (Can't believe I AM saying this) And if you are going through depression or anything related to that, remember that one of reasons to stay alive is to pull revenge on all the people you hate. Maybe in future you can show your haters that the reason they hate you is beacuse of how strong willed you are. You don't have to prove your talents. You don't have to accomplish things to justify your existence. You are here for nobody but yourself. Be selfish, be a bitch and live out the best life there is.

[aquaticstyles]

unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

[starrybouquet]

On Seasons 9 and 10 of Stargate SG1

A note: I wrote a series of essays several weeks ago, when I was feeling particularly crappy. I'm not particularly proud of them--they're pretty dramatic--but they do explain several of my more personal fandom feelings. I know I don't always tend to be the best at explaining things on the spot, so I'm posting these with the hope that I can refer people to them the next time that happens.

Um, I mentioned they're a little dramatic. I'm really, really sorry about that. But hey, if I can't be dramatic on Tumblr, in fandom, where else is that gonna go?

But still - if you're feeling a little sensitive today, maybe you wanna skip this. Or not. Just a light warning. :)

This piece is on seasons 9 and 10 of Stargate SG1, but they aren't all Stargate-related. I'll be posting them in the next few days, hopefully.

To those of you who like s9-10: I have nothing against you. Some of you I know better, some less well. In general, though, I like you, you seem like fine people. This is not about you, I hold nothing against you for liking those seasons. In fact, I envy you. This is more a personal post about why I'm an idiot. If you want, feel free to scroll down past this. I won't be offended. I'd put it under the cut but I'm on mobile.

Okay. Why, hello, those of you willing to read this rant...

No matter how much I denounce and ignore it, I cannot get past the pain of seasons 9 and 10 of Stargate SG-1. I've never watched them in full. Seen a few episodes here and there.

I cannot, repeat, CANNOT stand the thought today. It hurts.

It's an old pain, and it's not just SG1. SG1 is just one of the highlights in a long line of books and shows that have repeatedly broken my heart by being SO GOOD and then taking an, uh, precipitous right turn, shall we say. Because a hard right seems too kind, and a precipitous drop too harsh.

I love SG1. I love love love it. I like the plots and I love the science, but what I really fell in love with was the characters.

I loved all of them. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: if Sam, Daniel, or Teal'c had been on any other show, I guarantee you they would have been my favorite by far. Jack is just so...Jack that he has to be my favorite. That's SG1 for you.

I've never had super close friends. I have good RL friends, don't get me wrong. They're nice people. But we don't have much in common.

That's okay. That's been my experience forever--really nice folks who maybe didn't always get me or have anything to say to me, but were good, decent people.

And this is good. Really, it is. It's just that SG-1, for me, has always represented the promise that there *are* people out there that are your true friends, and you will do brave and brilliant things with them. It will happen.

It's naive, I know. But I haven't been able to let it go. Maybe someday. But not right now.

Which brings me to s9-10 of SG1. It hurts.

It hurts that SG1 scattered to the wind.

It hurts that they sent Jack away from a place where he was happy, where he'd found friends and meaning in life again, away to fucking DC. To be...what? A politician? I could write a whole post just about this. Actually, I have. I could still write more posts about it!

It hurts that Sam went to Area 51, and nobody seemed to mind, the 'Gate didn't spontaneously combust as we were always led to believe it would.

It hurts that Daniel's personality supposedly changed that much, in the absence of his friends. Though some of his lines are funny, they aren't the earnest, idealistic, thoughtful Daniel I fell in love with. I get the idea that new-look Daniel would roll his eyes at s3-8 Daniel, and beat up floppy hair Daniel. And floppy hair Daniel is my baby and anyone who doesn't appreciate his brilliance can face my wrath. That includes you, buff s9-10 Daniel, and also whoever decided/approved that change in characterization.

Really, the only one who doesn't hurt is Teal'c. Because it feels like he's moving forward, toward happiness.

So...here we are. Season 9. Mitchell, Landry.

I often say I hate Mitchell. Do I resent him for replacing Jack? Yes. I do. We can talk about plot reasons and all that, but at the end of the day, I was going to hate anyone who tried to be Jack.

This is true in real life, too. You can't try to be anyone else. You've gotta walk your own path.

Now, people say that I didn't give Mitchell a chance. I say that the way he was portrayed, in the few episodes I've seen, tells me enough.

I can think of lots of ways Mitchell could have been interesting. How would Daniel and Teal'c react to an old, actually bad tempered (not Jack bad tempered, actually bad tempered) hardass after eight years of their best friends leading them? Or--start with his actual character. Mitchell, he hasn't been at the SGC. Wouldn't he get some flack from the longtime team leaders of SGs 2-5ish? They'd be insulted, right?

Or we could've gotten a nice Daniel Teal'c episode arc and then we could've had one Samantha Carter as team leader, though we won't get into that.

Bringing me to my next point. Co-leads?? Seriously?? You're trying too hard, folks. Telling me Sam used to know Mitchell does not actually make me like him.

Same thing with Landry. Unlike Mitchell, I guess I don't really have an opinion on Landry. He's just....there? No character development for this man.

Anyway, back to the team.

One of the things I love about SG1 is how the humor and friendship was so damn natural. Other than a few episodes (Urgo comes to mind), the plots weren't intentionally humorous. They were campy sci-fi plots sometimes, sure. They were funny because Jack was funny, yeah. They were lower budget than some other sci-fi. But they were as serious as sci-fi gets. It was how the characters reacted that made it funny.

Similarly, we were never told SG1 were found family. We just Knew. Because of the way they acted with each other. Because of the way Jack would "order" them to do things.

And hey, by the way, they weren't always family. Sam used to be less willing to ignore Jack. Daniel used to be less willing to trust Teal'c. Jack used to be a little more stern.

So...they meshed together. Like all found families do.

Every time I see a photo of new-look SG1 in seasons 9 and 10, I can't help but feel that they're trying too hard. I don't get the family feel because they aren't a family, damn it. It doesn't matter how many times you *tell* me they're super close. One of the reasons the original team got so close is because they all needed each other. Jack was depressed, Daniel was grieving, Sam was alone and had lost her mom and wasn't speaking with her dad and had never opened up to anyone in her life, Teal'c was an alien fighting for freedom after spending 100 years essentially as a slave.

And partly because of that, by season 9? Daniel and Teal'c (and Sam, when she comes back) don't need a family the way they used to. They have each other. They have Jack, or at least they *should*. *Glares in angry at Jack in DC vibes*

So...they simply don't have the relationship with Mitchell they do with each other.

It'd be different if Mitchell needed a family. It's not that SG1 hasn't added people before--I think Jonas is a perfect example of this. He wasn't Daniel, and that always hurt. But he was young, and naive, and innocent, and he needed SG1 because he'd left everything he'd ever known.

And that worked.

Without needing family, Mitchell is just a coworker. He can be a friendly coworker. A friend. But if he wanted to become better friends, family, he needed to show depth and vulnerability. He needed to need SG1.

And he never does, from what I've seen and heard about and read about. Or if he does need SG1, he doesn't need them badly enough to show more than an occasional bout of thoughtfulness before returning to his normal pale-Jack-imitation ways.

Now, I don't know why that is. I lean toward bad writing. I haven't watched Farscape (it's on my to watch list) but it seems like Ben Browder is a fine actor.

So, seasons 9 and 10 are probably fine TV. I'm never going to watch them through, so don't ask. I've tried and failed and every time it just tears my heart a little more and I'm won't be doing it again.

Those seasons...they just lost everything I watch SG-1 for, and so...yeah. I feel the hate strongly. Not because they're bad--I think they're different, not necessarily bad. My hate is only because in creating those seasons, they tore down the parts of SG1 that I loved most.

So s9-10 show me a few nice hugs and laughs? That's nice. I like comedies, I do. However...that's not my Stargate. Not the one I love. I liked the sarcastic one, the one full of wonder, the one where they had to scrape and claw their way through the galaxy with naivety and courage and brilliance. The one where they ate together, fought together, died together, were resurrected together.

It hurts, man. It hurts when the things I love turn into something that's lukewarm. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

That's why we have fanfic. And, with any luck, I'll actually start that AU I've been talking about.

It's fanfic, and so it'll be my Stargate. The ending I wanted--which really wasn't an ending at all, more of a closure of one chapter of the story.

Damn, did that turn dramatic. Um, sorry about that, and also sorry for spilling my feelings all over you guys. Thanks for reading, if you got to the end of this.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

"Remember when you told me that Demetri was always going to be your only friend?"

Her tone was sharp and Eli felt obliged to avoid her gaze, staring at his hands instead.

"I do."

"Yeah well, Demetri's mother called me to tell that someone broke his arm and she doesn't know who did it."

His silence was almost as loud as a scream.

"I know who did it. I didn't know the reason though, but then I saw those Cobra Kai kids with you outside and I put it together. You have a bunch of new friends now, don't you?"

Eli glanced at his mother and regretted it instantly, she almost looked as if she was talking to a stranger. Like she didn't knew him.

"Well, Demetri isn't your only friend now, is he?"

No.

"Was it worth it?"

No.

God, no.

Hey wow look never in my life have 142 words CRUSHED MY SOUL FASTER

This drabble punched me in the gut, grabbed my wallet, looked through it, snatched all my $20s, and then ran away mercilessly.

Legit though, it never sat quite right with me when Eli was venting to his mom in that one flashback and he just wails out “I’M NEVER GONNA HAVE ANY FRIENDS BESIDES DEMETRI!” like it’s some like...goddamn death sentence or something. Like yeah, Demetri is far from the perfect best/only friend, and he can certainly be an insensitive ass at times, but like...yo, the boy is LOYAL AF, he’s stuck with your ass and been your best friend through YEARS of bullying and tried to protect you from getting hurt, in his own little way (even if some of his efforts are kinda misguided, as they basically boil down to “just avoid engaging bullies if at all possible” and “don’t try any new activity (i.e. karate) that could cause even slight pain or discomfort and rock the boat” lol) and tried to make you laugh with dumb jokes about you being the homecoming king when NO ONE ELSE would bother, and you clearly just DON’T appreciate him??? Like the way Eli’s like “I’m never gonna have friends...besides Demetri, obviously” just reads like he’s absolutely just taking Demetri for granted and it PISSES ME OFF. Then again, I think it might just strike a nerve with me in particular, since I remember all too well being a ragingly insecure, introverted child watching my friends make other friends besides me and just being so confused and hurt, like “...am I not good enough for you?” Of course, now that I’m older I see that it’s valid to want more friends while keeping the ones you have, obviously, and I don’t think Eli was inherently wrong for wanting to expand his social circle or anything, but the way he’s just...so dismissive of Demetri’s friendship and instead focuses on crying about all the cool friends he doesn’t have just PEEVES me to no end. Like ffs, some of the kids at that school who get bullied probably have NO friends and have to tough it out alone, so maybe be like...a little more appreciative of the fact that you have a BEST FRIEND who clearly cares about you??? Again, it’s valid for Eli to want more friends--I imagine you’d get tired of only having one person your age to really talk to--but the fact that he kinda phrases this in a way that makes it sound like Demetri and their friendship is dismissable and trivial and not all that important to him has always bugged me a lot. I mean, Eli obviously DOES care about Demetri and Demetri’s opinions of him, as we see several times in the show, but like...hearing him say “I’m never gonna have any other friends besides Demetri” still makes me wince every time. STOP TALKIN BOUT MY BOY LIKE HE DOESN’T MATTER 

Yeah yeah yeah I KNOW I’m reading way too much into a simple comment okay but this statement has implications and I DO NOT like them

“Someone broke his arm and she doesn't know who did it." Oh yeah, Demetri absolutely did not tell his mom Eli broke his arm. Given how smothering and overprotective she seems (I mean, she gave him a note to take to a KARATE CLASS excusing him from EXTENSIVE ARM AND LEG MOVEMENT even though that’s ALL KARATE IS), she’d probably NEVER let Eli near him again if she knew--hell, she might even get a restraining order or make Demetri transfer schools or something. And Demetri definitely doesn’t think that’s her decision to make--and he ain’t about to give up on Good Old Eli just yet, even after everything that’s happened. Perhaps against his better judgement, he still has hope for his old friend. He just tells his mom his arm got broken by one of the newer Cobra Kai recruits, some burly thug guy he’d never seen before. He didn’t get a good look at the guy, naturally, since he was pinning his face to the ground and fled the scene almost immediately after the arm-snapping.

And oh my god how I WISH we’d gotten a scene in Season 3 where Eli’s mom just brutally calls him out like this, because god knows he needed it and it could’ve been THE wake-up call (or at least one of a few big wake-up calls) that shit...he’s getting farther away from the person he’s always been than he ever has before, and maybe...maybe it’s not a good thing after all. Maybe it’s not a good thing if his own mother barely recognizes him, if his own mother is maybe even a little scared/wary of him and what he’s become. I mean I get there was a lot going on in Season 3, and there probably wouldn’t have really been room to bring back a character as minor as Eli’s mom, but I would have loved to see her reaction to all the shit he was pulling throughout the season. She highkey seems like a helicopter parent if she’s willing to call the school over Eli being bullied, so there’s no way she was just suddenly completely disinterested in everything he was doing after school and that she didn’t at least suspect there was some sketchy shit going on. (I mean...the boy presumably came home with a MOTORCYCLE one day??? Isn’t she gonna wonder where on earth he got that??? Y’all don’t expect me to believe SHE got it for him, do you???)

Also, Demetri and Eli’s moms are absolutely friends!!! Speaking as someone who had the same group of childhood friends for like 12 years, your moms can’t NOT be friends when they’re forced to see each other that often XD It’s kinda depressing to think how much it must have hurt their moms too when they started fighting, since these women would presumably have been good friends for years at that point and now have to watch their sons, who used to be best friends, just constantly be at each other’s throats :( I love how quickly Eli’s mom puts two and two together and figures out Eli broke Demetri’s arm. Eli can’t hide SHIT from his mama haha

Also wow it’s so fucked and depressing to think that maybe, in the heat of the moment, Eli broke Demetri’s arm to LITERALLY shatter the notion of Demetri being his only friend and try to DESTROY that time completely with that arm break so he could fully embrace his new, “improved” identity as the “cool badass” with lots of awesome and formidable friends who were obviously far superior and much better for his image and his intimidation factor than nerdy little Demetri...ouch.

"Was it worth it?"

No.

God, no.

JESUS I’M SOBBING

AS SOON AS ELI HEARD THAT BONE SNAP AND SAW DEMETRI CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR CRYING HE REGRETTED ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING I AM HERE TO TELL YOU

IT WAS A BAD DAY FOR EVERYONE AND I AM GOING TO MURDER JOHN KREESE WITH MY BARE HANDS FOR SLOWLY MINDFUCKING MY BOY ELI MOSKOWITZ INTO THINKING BREAKING HIS CRUSH’S ARM WAS THE MOVE

[tecnofan34]

My Tecna Head-Canons based on Season 1-4 Rai/Cinelume dub cause I think Nickelodeon is a whole other timeline. I might/am going to use some of these in Legends Rewritten.

- Tecna actually suffers from low self esteem and depression. She hid it quite well with her already logical and apathetic demeanour in season 1, but as time went on, anything she couldn’t accomplish perfectly was unacceptable in her opinion. For example, her first experience with a bucket and mop. Seeing that she couldn’t do everything made her heightened opinion that she is inadequate come to surface. She secretly berated herself whenever she acted impulsively, especially if led by emotion. Tecna’s low self esteem issues stem from having to meet high expectations for Zenithian society, getting the best grades and being at top efficiency, even at the expense of her basic needs. Her parents have seen her display more emotion than what is acceptable and have indirectly convinced her that something is wrong with her and she isn’t enough. From the time she exposed Professor Avalon, to the time she incorrectly located Cloudtower’s piece of the Codex and got frozen by Icy, and all the times she got knocked down in battle, she tells herself she should do better than that. Her parents and Zenithian society have put expectations on her that she can’t achieve.

- Timmy is one of the only people who truly accept Tecna for every part of her. Whether she is being “too technical” or overly emotional for her normal character. He may not have known what to do when they were friends, but he always reassured her that how she was acting was justified. He enthused in her talents and abilities, and continued to tell her how unique and remarkable she was. Timmy was in awe of Tecna’s powers and strength. He never fails to reassure her that she is important to him.

- Musa, being an empathic person (I’ve always seen that in the cartoon and I’m not saying this because Fate Musa has mind powers) could sense when Tecna was trying to shut herself out. She could tell when most of the other Winx couldn’t, when Tecna wasn’t okay even if she’d keep telling them that she was. Tecna has had bouts of unexpected emotional episodes, which at first she was scared and frustrated about, not wanting to be reminded of her belief that there is anything wrong with her. During these emotional moments, Musa would let her borrow her headphones and play soothing music to help Tecna get back into a composed state. Sometimes, if the emotions were really bad, the music would cause Tecna to drift off to sleep.

-Both Flora and Musa have helped Tecna get in touch with her emotions and taught her that it’s okay to feel. Flora taught Tecna about different emotional situations and what they meant. She has reassured Tecna that what she was experiencing is healthy. Pretty soon, Tecna did end up feeling a huge weight lifted off of her when she lets go of the expectations she had placed upon her. Through Musa and Flora, Tecna is enjoying what it means to express emotions, and still maintain a comfortable balance with her logic.

-Layla and Tecna get along pretty well and share some opinions as opposed to the more feminine members of the group. They share the competitive edge, but in different areas. Layla is more physical and has taught Tecna some defence skills as well as convinced her to learn some basic dance moves with Musa. In turn, Tecna has shown Layla some spots related video games, especially those Tecna has programmed into her simulator goggles. Layla has praised Tecna on how realistic the gameplay is, although she does prefer the real thing.

-Bloom is a little different. In the first season, Bloom was always well meaning and has asked Tecna to help her analyze her dreams. Bloom would continue to encourage Tecna about how helpful she was when Tecna found Domino’s loyal palace. There has been some friction, like when Tecna first retaliated after saving Stella from the Trix. Tecna’s self esteem issues did cause her to lash out at Bloom, especially when she had been away from her home environment and influenced by her new friends. Bloom has told Tecna to “speak English” on occasion, but only when irritated. Over time, Bloom and Tecna’s friendship has been mostly stable, and Tecna never felt like she was in Bloom’s shadow.

-Stella means well, and ultimately does care about her friends, but she’s the one Tecna gets along with the least. They have a hard time seeing eye to eye, and Stella’s priorities of fashion and parties irk Tecna slightly. In the beginning, Tecna judged Stella for her title as Princess of Solaria, seeing as how she was so self absorbed. Stella was the most intolerant of Tecna’s intellect, although Tecna knew it was not intentional and came from a place of immunity. However, over time, Tecna did get to see Stella grow and mature. She has accepted Stella’s quirks, as Stella had with her. In the fourth season, Stella and Bloom have even taken the time to learn about Tecna’s talents as she aids them with the Love and Pet shop and their mission to find Roxy.

I know there isn’t much for Bloom and Stella but I thought it was fair to add in what I think their friendship with Tecna is like. Now, the depression thing is probably coming from a place of being a fan of the most underrated, under appreciated and possible unloved member of the group and it hurts me. So feel free to give me constructive feedback about if my head canon makes sense or is an accurate portrayal of any form of depression. Thanks.

[spaceorphan18]

What are your headcanons/thoughts about Blaine (by episode) during season 6 after Kurt comes back to Lima? I've read your Finding KH meta and I think you nailed your interpretation of Kurt, but I've never been able to tell what was happening in Blaine's head. Obviously, there's some complex emotions going on- anger at Kurt, a bit of longing because Kurt wanted him back, sadness when Kurt tells Blaine about his date, etc. Season 6 Klaine was very much Kurt-centric. I want to know about Blaine.

Hi! So -- this is just, wow, a thesis of a question, lol! Which is fine! But it’s not a quick answer.  So, yeah, let’s have a nice long conversation about Blaine and season 6.  I’ll see if I can keep it concise for everyone, lol 

Pre-Season 6

So, here’s what we know -- Kurt and Blaine broke up.  And, there’s an interesting parallel to the previous break up.  Before -- Kurt had too much faith in the relationship, and Blaine didn’t -- hence Blaine ultimately breaking the relationship.  This time, Blaine has too much faith in the relationship, and Kurt doesn’t, hence Kurt breaking the relationship.  

As we see in ep. 2, this sends Blaine into a tailspin downward into a deep depression.  And while that sucks, I don’t think the break up is the worst thing that could have happened to him.  Because, here’s the thing.  Remember back in season 4, Burt said Blaine shouldn’t be marrying an idea -- but a person?  Well - part of the reason for the break up is that Blaine was holding on, maybe too tightly, to this idea that if he and Kurt got married, that would solve all his problems and they’d live in a nice little fairy tale world of perfectness.  

Well, real life doesn’t work like that -- and the break up kind of pushes Blaine to see that despite his best efforts, Kurt is a person (who really really hurt him) and marriage isn’t just an idea.  It also forces Blaine to deal with some inner demons that he hadn’t before.  When they broke up the first time, Blaine held on to his pursuit that he could get Kurt back.  This time -- Blaine is under the impression that it’s done and over.  That’s it.  And for the first time (ever in his adult life) Blaine is forced to face a reality that he has to function as his own person (that’s a good thing).  

As we see in the flashback, Blaine’s downward spiraled into depression (something that he’s struggled with off and on throughout the series, and unlike Kurt who has bouts of situation depression, my headcanon for Blaine is that he’s dealt with a longstanding, low key depression most of the time we see him).  He isn’t really able to /do/ anything for a while -- until he works his way up from it, starts to go to therapy, and starts to work on himself. 

He ends up moving forwards and backwards at the same time.  On the one hand, he begins changing things up, playing with his hair and wardrobe, going outside his usual norms such as dating someone like Karofsky.  Meanwhile, he goes backwards in that he retreats back to Dalton -- it’s a reset (as well as narratively for the show, which is resetting back to season 2 rules).  It’s a safe place for him -- the place where he last felt the happiest, and yet, it is also a place that holds him back.  That’s fine, for now, as he’s using it as a place of healing.  The ironic part is that this is the place where he can’t quite get rid of the ghosts of Kurt -- this is where they met, fell in love, and where Blaine proposed.  No matter how hard Blaine tries - he won’t truly be over Kurt until he leaves Blaine behind.  (Lucky for us, he doesn’t choose to.) 

Loser Like Me

By the time we meet up with Blaine in Loser Like Me, we see that he’s doing relatively well -- more so than Kurt because he’s had a lot of time to process the break-up and work on himself.  One of the things that comes out of all the therapy, and coming to terms with living without Kurt (or, really, any guy) is that he knows he can make it on his own - and that’s a good thing! And while he’s sad about how things ended with Kurt (and still very angry in the manner in which Kurt did it), he’s in a decent place. 

He’s happy coaching the Warblers (even if it’s a distraction) and he’s relatively happy dating Karofsky.  I made a whole post about why Blaine dates Karofsky and you can FIND IT HERE.  Like everyone in this episode (notice the episode only focuses on the ‘losers’ of this show) Blaine is not at his final stop in life.  The whole point of this first episode is to show everyone coming to a cross roads where they need to pick themselves up and start again so they can eventually reach the destiny they were went to be - at the end of the season.  

One thing Blaine mentions in the first episode is that he was kicked out of NYADA.  This is also a thing heavy on his mind, but it’s not a bad thing! NYADA was Kurt’s dream (and really a scam school) -- and in order for the two of them to be individuals in their relationship again, Blaine finding a new place to go to school -- in turn finding his own path in life -- is healthy for their relationship.  It just happens to be sucky at the moment.  

So, I go into the final Klaine scene a lot during the Kurt meta, but to touch upon it a little from Blaine’s side....  

So, keep in mind that Rachel sets this up -- and probably doesn’t tell Blaine much as to why Kurt wants to see him.  This is probably the first time Kurt and Blaine have seen each other since the break up -- and probably the first time they’ve been in contact whenever Blaine left the loft.  Remember -- Blaine wasn’t just upset about the break up, he was angry that Kurt so ruthlessly and seemingly uncaringly broke his heart.  There’s a lot of anger still festering there -- as much as he’s dealt with the fact that he’s on his own now, he hasn’t dealt with his leftover feelings for and about Kurt. 

He’s probably of mind that Kurt’s coming to tell him how wonderful his life is now that they’re apart, and how great New York is, and how it’s better that they called off the wedding.  So, Blaine’s prepped to engage in this --- bringing Karofsky is one part shield for Blaine and one part shoving him in Kurt’s face to say that he has also moved on and is “fine”.   What he doesn’t expect is what actually happens. 

When they meet up Kurt lays it out on the line -- he is not only seeking out Blaine’s forgiveness, but he came back to win Blaine’s heart.  And Blaine is a little... whoa, what??? Cause that is not what he intended to happen.  Blaine plays it cool -- because as much as his heart is probably -- yup, let’s do it -- he’s gotten hurt, too, and he’s not going to forgive Kurt so easily.  

And then there’s also Karofsky to consider.  He does like Karofsky, and everything is easier with Karofsky, and he can take the easy road that isn’t as satisfying, or risk his heart getting broken again with Kurt.  He’s definitely not ready to take that risk.  So they all go through the little charade of Karofsky being cutesy.  But it doesn’t go unnoticed by Blaine how much the idea of Blaine with someone else -- especially Blaine with Karofsky -- hurts Kurt.  Blaine had probably liked the idea that Kurt would not be thrilled with the idea, but actually hurting him -- Blaine doesn’t like the taste of it as much as he thought he might.  

I also want to mention, probably as the night grows to a close, and Kurt and Blaine maybe have a moment alone -- this is when Kurt might retract a little and use his typical defense of -- maybe we’re better off being friends.  WHICH IS TOTALLY FALSE THEY SUCK AT BEING FRIENDS -- but Blaine probably half-heartedly agrees, and they all try to move forward from it. 

Homecoming

So - we play a lot of catch up with Blaine in this episode -- which I detailed more so above.  A lot of this episode is Blaine with the Warbers, and helping the new student - Jane - becoming one of the Warblers.  A couple of things to point out with this... 

First of all... we get to see Blaine as a teacher, and how he’s a good guy, willing to put all of himself into a thing, even if it’s not going to work out (more on that in a second).  We see that -- despite his thoughts that Dalton never changes, we see that it indeed does! Not only is he out of touch with this wacky group of Warblers, but he’ll be able to get them to change a tradition and let a girl into the group.  Despite Blaine claiming he’s happy with his life staying the same as it is -- he’s still at a crossroads at his life, and things are going to change.  Kurt coming back into town set things in motion, and whether he likes it or not, his life can’t stay the same as it was when he was back in high school. 

Blaine is a bit distant to Kurt in this episode.  In the beginning, he mostly ignores Kurt -- as a way to just not deal with him at all.  Later on, he’s mad and frustrated that Jane has defected -- like I said earlier, he’s once again poured himself into a thing only to have it not work out.  His anger that Kurt would be in on at this at all, let alone enjoying it, is him lashing out his anger over the break up that he’s still not over.  (And it’s especially annoying that Kurt’s being kind and mature about the whole thing.) 

We also see the emergence of sassy Blaine at the end -- Blaine isn’t going to back down and he isn’t going to play nice.  And while it’s a tad on the dramatic side -- the point is, unlike whatever the hell Will has going on with Rachel, Blaine has learned to stand his ground and stand up to Kurt.  And, while this thought might seem a little weird -- his pushing back against Kurt is actually a good thing! And even Kurt seems to be amused during the scene.  It means that Blaine will allow himself to stand on his own two feet instead of just following whatever Kurt’s lead is.  They’re getting to a place where they’re on equal footing instead of one of them seeing the other as an idyllic partner.  It’s a better foundation for their later, more mature, relationship.  

Meanwhile - we have Homecoming itself, where Blaine is seen cuddle up with Karofsky.  It is his homecoming, too -- he did graduate from McKinley, but he does seem out of place there.  Ironically, the song is about being ‘home’ -- but while everyone is literally home, they’re still on their journeys to where their real homes will be.  With Rachel it’ll be New York.  With Mercedes, it’ll be touring. With Kurt and Blaine, it’ll be each other.  Kurt looks sadly on, but Blaine is, again, purposely ignoring Kurt and using Karofsky as his shield (and excuse) not to deal with the Kurt of it all.  

I also want to take a quick second and talk about Blam! Because we don’t get a lot of it in this season.  A lot of that is due to the fact that we’re playing by season 2 rules again, before Blaine and Sam were friends, and part of it is the nature that these plot lines don’t allow us to see much of it.  But I do think Sam played a nice part in helping Blaine get out of his funk.  Sam’s a good friend, and probably did everything he could to help Blaine on his feet again.  And despite the fact that at the end of the season (reminding me a lot of how Kurt and Mercedes started to go their own way in season 2) Blaine and Sam are just on different paths.  And that’s okay! I think their friendship means the world to both of them -- but they don’t need each other the way they did back in season 4. And that’s fine. 

Jagged Little Tapestry

We don’t get to see Blaine much in this episode - but there’s still a little bit here for us to look into.  First of all, Blaine and Kurt accidentally meet up at the sheet music store, and for a moment it’s like old times.  Though - fascinatingly, they’re more adult in their interaction with each other.  (I do think this entire story would make more sense set five years into the future, but I digress...) It’s funny, Blaine tried hard to play the grown up when he (and more so Kurt) weren’t ready.  But there’s an easiness between them that really wasn’t there before -- they are adults now -- in these adult roles, and I think these two without the baggage of their past, would easily fall in line and in love with each other if they were meeting for the first time.  

Unfortunately, the baggage named Karofsky is still around.  But what is different is that Blaine doesn’t need the shield (roadblock) that is Karofsky as much as he did.  Blaine feels... a little embarrassed by Karofsky now, and the more he and Kurt begin to reconcile, the less Karofsky feels like an actual option for romantic partner. 

But here’s the thing -- as we see in this shared fantasy of a song, Blaine begins to look back through all his old memories of Kurt, as they haunt him as much as they haunt Kurt.  There were good times, and Blaine’s beginning to remember that.  There’s still a lot of pain, too, though, which is why Blaine doesn’t just ditch Karofsky right there.  

So -- Blaine does the dumbest thing ever, and moves in with Karofsky.  Here’s my headcanon around that...  I’m guessing it’s not entirely out of the blue -- Blaine probably still lives at home, as probably so does Karofsky, and I’m sure Karofsky floated the idea out there.  It’s an enticing offer to Blaine even without Kurt in the picture.  He likes being in a solid relationship like that.  He likes the domesticity of it.  And while it’s totally playhousing again (oh Blaine), by the time Kurt comes around -- Blaine decides to move full forward with the idea.  

In a way -- it’s his (bad) attempt of fully moving on from Kurt -- see Kurt, I can totally be fine without you.  And Karofsky’s an easy enough partner that he’ll just go with the flow.  Blaine gets his mock domestic life, and a shield against the pain of Kurt.  Is it real? Not really -- if Brittany’s decorations say anything -- other than gay-diddy-gay-gay-gay, they say -- not a real home, but a mock up of one.  (Did she do this on purpose? I’ll let you decide.) 

The Hurt Locker pt. 1

And we get more Sassy Blaine - telling Rachel like it is.  And, again, I reiterate that this is a good thing.  Blaine’s still that charming, debonair guy we all know and love.  But he’s not afraid to speak his mind anymore, that’s a good thing. 

So -- now we get to start seeing all the cracks in the Blaine/Karofsky facade.  Yes, Sue is a meddling, pain in the ass, but even without her, the fact that this is still a rebound for Blaine is still there.  I truly believe that everything that happens between Kurt and Blaine would have still happened -- only at a much slower rate.  

So, yeah, before we get Sue showing up at the date, we get Blaine and Karofsky chatting -- and Blaine talking about how much Karofsky has grown.  Part of this is exposition to fill us viewers in as to why the fuck this even happened in the first place, but, it’s also there for Blaine to continue to convince himself that Karofsky is a decent guy whom he’s actively choosing over Kurt.  

Then Sue shows up and starts making things awkward -- look, there’s all of Karofsky’s old baggage -- clearly, that’s not something they’ve talked about before.  What is Karofsky getting out of this relationship? And why has he slept with half the guys in Lima? Is Karofsky even the guy Blaine’s wanting (needing) him to be?  And then Sue sews the seeds that they’re related.  Which... ew.  

Speaking of ew, let’s take a second and talk about Blaine and Karofsky having sex! Okay, now that I’ve lost a majority of you, lol, yes, they’re definitely having it.  Yes, it’s probably like a Uhaul mounting a Moped.  Look - they’re both adults who enjoy sex, and Blaine definitely is going to jump head first into that kind of thing.  As much as we don’t want to think about it, they have that aspect to their relationship.  That said -- is it any good? Meh.  It serves its purpose - but I don’t think that’s any kind of defining point in their relationship.  And in fact, I’m guessing Blaine ends up liking to cuddle way more than he enjoys the sex. 

Anyway....  after this disaster of a date, who does Blaine end up talking to? Kurt.  Why? Because at this point -- they’ve slowly started to let each other into their lives again.  I do think they’ve slowly begun to chat with each other again - though it’s about mundane things.  Not the deeper aspects of their lives.  No matter how hard they try, though, they can never really get that far out of each other’s orbit.  At the end of the day -- Blaine and Kurt were best friends before they ever dated, and that was one of the foundations of their relationship.  It’s interesting -- but something the creators (and Darren and Chris) said at the time that no matter what happens between them, they have a unbreakable bond of friendship that goes deeper than fractured romantic relationship.  They are fundamentally apart of each other’s lives, and /like/ each other -- which at the end of the day -- is what truly makes their later, fully committing relationship work. 

So, Blaine goes on about Sue, and unintentionally reveals the cracks in his and Karofsky’s relationship.  Kurt doesn’t say it, and Blaine doesn’t fully grasp it yet, but Blaine’s complaining is more than Sue’s meddling.  It’s more so the fact that Blaine and Karofsky aren’t right for each other -- and Blaine’s finally beginning to see that.  Sure, maybe possibly being related a zillion generations back and the fact that Karofsky has made his rounds are pretty superficial reasons to not be with Karofsky -- but the underlying theme is that Blaine’s not ultimately happy with him.  His heart, as he’s about to get a reminder, is already taken. 

Kurt then - in an honest attempt at maturity, tells Blaine he’s going on a date.  And Blaine is uncomfortable -- why? Because for the first time, it’s no longer about their past, or Blaine’s anger, but the reality that if they don’t try again -- maybe this really is the end of the line for them.  That thought is echoed when Blaine regurgitates Kurt’s line about being friends, and being each other’s first love is special, but not everything lasts.  

The sad thing is -- the subtext of the scene is how much they really want each other here, but are both trying to save face.  They are trying to move past each other -- but neither is really wanting to do that, even if Blaine isn’t ready to ditch Karofsky and be back with Kurt.  Blaine then gets out of there before they’re really forced to deal with feelings 

An interesting thought about their physical intimacy -- back in Loser Like Me, they shared an awkward hug, one where they had muscle memory of being each other’s lovers, but remembering they were, in fact, not together.  Here, it’s not as awkward, but it’s still weird.  It’s a sign, though, that they are getting more comfortable with each other again.  

The Hurt Locker Part 2

Where I wax poetic about an elevator....

So, the important thing... before the Sue of it all, Kurt and Blaine meet up and chat -- the thing is, as they chat, they’re warm and comfortable with each other.  There’s an ease going on that wasn’t seen in earlier episodes.  What changed? Well - they’re fully getting back into each other’s lives at this point.  Maybe they’ve talked a lot about how insane it is to be teachers, or Rachel as a crazy person, or Will being insane with VA.  Maybe Kurt told Blaine all about his date with a dude who is older than his dad, and/or Kurt helped Blaine figure out if Karofsky really was related to him.  Whatever happened in that week -- these two were already clearly on their way back to each other before Sue, as seen in the friendliness before we get to the elevator.  

So -- I talk a lot about the elevator in my meta for Kurt: KURT META.  A lot of it transfers to Blaine, so I’m not going to go into it as much here (read the meta!) -- but mostly, the elevator is a metaphor.  It’s a place where they can recreate what their issues were with each other, and a place where they can take the other path and talk things out with each other.  It’s a place where they can fall back in love with each other (not that they ever fell out of it) and a place where they can discover that they can deal with each other long term.  It’s something that I do believe they would have discovered on their own -- but Sue just gave them the extra push.  

In addition, the kiss is formative.  It reawakens that sexual desire in Blaine -- that never really left (though Kurt feared it had) but plays upon the fact that it’s not just a friendship they have (or had) but a passionate and a lust for each other as well.  They’re compatible not just as friends - but as lovers as well.  And having physical contact in this way reignites something that never really went away -- but creates more cracks in their attempts to move on from each other.  

(There’s a lot more going on here, clothes coming off like layers being unraveled, it’s all good -- I cover it in the Kurt meta - go read it!) 

So in this bizarre set up, it’s kind of like a fantasy land where they can rediscover each other outside of the baggage of reality.  Once the doors open - it’s back to reality, and the clothes go back on, and they have to go back to their regular lives.  But something has shifted again -- as they share a smile during the Inventational.  

And as they berate Sue on her kidnapping schemes, it’s clear that they’re friends again, and comfortable with each other.  (Notice Blaine touching Kurt during their last scene together? This is purposeful as that layer of intimacy they’ve gotten back.  It’s so delicious.) But even more so -- Kurt mentions being over the anger and resentment of the break up.  While Blaine doesn’t say it, that speaks volumes.  Blaine’s no longer angry with Kurt, because he’s finally put that particular pain behind him - whoo! 

What the World Needs Now

There’s really not a whole lot going on here, and that’s fine -- they’ve had a lot of the season 6 story lines so far, I’m so used to them being so in the background that this seems par for the course.  (Do you see why I find Season 6 so delicious when it comes to Klaine - we get so much!) Anyway, we get a sassy comment from Mercedes about Kurt and Blaine having to deal with each other, but the thing is -- they’re already pretty cool with each other.  

And then we get the end -- where Blaine shows up... without Karofsky!  Cause here’s the thing.  Blaine dealt with his anger towards Kurt during the whole elevator thing -- he’s no longer angry at Kurt.  He’s no longer harboring the baggage he was carrying around with him.  And -- because of that, he no longer needs Karofsky as a shield.  He and Kurt can hang and be cool with each other, and it’s okay, Blaine finds.  He can let Kurt into his heart again, because he doesn’t fear being hurt.  

Transitioning

This episode is for all those people worried that Sue meddling was what got Kurt and Blaine back together.  It wasn’t -- this episode is what really did it.  Had Sue not meddled, what goes down here probably would have still happened in its own time.  Sue just helped speed up the process.  

Also messing with fate? Kurt...  I mean, look at that boy rig that wheel -- singing duets are a sacred thing on Glee, and he’s not going to let the opportunity slip by.  

This episode, however, is mostly from Blaine’s POV as we finally get some insight as to what’s going on in his brain.  He knows Kurt is screwing around with the wheel, and he’s a bit awkward because of it -- because he knows that duet, in Glee’s symbolic world, is more than a duet.  It’s a reaffirmation of what they had.  It’s an indication that Kurt’s still interesting and waiting.  It’s a chance for Blaine to slip out of the Karofsky-armor he’s been carrying around and see what his heart really wants.  

So, Rachel’s party - a ‘transitioning’ moment in time if you will.  They goof around and have fun and are probably a little relaxed from the alcohol Sam is slipping them.  (I’m a little iffy about that around minors but whatever...) And then they sing a flirty duet together.  And then Blaine realizes... he’s gotta go.  But not without confirming something for himself. 

You see -- outside, when they are alone, it’s a chance for Blaine to realize his feelings and act to act on them.  He needs to find out for himself -- not being pressured into it by a sadistic puppet if he still feels all the things for Kurt.  And guess what -- they kiss, and he does!! Which is why he jettisons out of there so fast.  He’s on the verge of letting Kurt all the way in again, and that’s scary! And there’s also the issue of Karofsky - but more on that in a second.  

I need to say this -- look, I get that this story isn’t perfect.  While I adore this conversation, it does look a little too towards the past, and not enough about how far they’ve come or the future together.  I do wish Glee had done just a little more than pull on nostalgia strings, but alas, that’s where fanfiction comes in, so I’ll just do that myself, lol.  

So, let’s talk about Karofsky!  Or more so, I’m gonna copy and paste what I put in my Kurt Meta because I’m too lazy to write it all out again: 

Obviously, Kurt’s not in this scene, but I feel the need to go over it, because it does, in part, pertain to Kurt.  And because I think it’s a nice scene.  I’m going to give Karofsky a little bit of credit here, and say he isn’t entirely dumb.  He knows Blaine’s been acting weird, and he’s known that since Kurt’s been back in town, their relationship wouldn’t last that much longer.  (So then why did you move in with him, weirdo?)  

Blaine’s been feeling guilty - because Karofsky turned out to be an okay guy, and Blaine had convinced himself that he really had moved on past Kurt.  Well, no, everyone and Karofsky could see otherwise.  And Karofsky is pretty nice about the whole thing (which I think is to show just how much Karofsky has grown, too, over the years).  He’s got a whole bunch of guys ready and willing to date him.  It’ll suck - but Blaine can’t change his heart and more than Kurt can.  So Karofsky let’s him go.

I think one of the interesting things in this conversation, is that Karofsky tells Blaine to just tell Kurt, not sing it.  And I feel like that goes with the whole growing up theme.  A lot of the time, these boys have sung their emotions through song - and that’s fine, but it’s also been part of the fantasy – but part of the Klaine narrative has been a shift from fantasy to reality, and this is one of the last parts.  And Blaine’s ready to take that step - to grow up and be a real boy, and be okay in his not-ever-changing feelings towards Kurt.  

So - Blaine gets running and goes for Kurt.  How does he know Kurt’s there? Is this just after school? Why is Walter meeting him there of all places? Idk - the set up of this scene is a little awkward when you thinking about it too much, but I’m really not supposed to.  The point is – Blaine is ready to confess his love to Kurt – again.  He even wears the bowtie he wore at the proposal (do you think Kurt didn’t notice that? He did).  But — one awkward little thing.  Kurt’s about to go on a double date with Walter, Rachel, and Sam.  So Blaine – doesn’t say anything.  And actually – this is a good thing for Blaine! Honestly, it is – it shows growth.  He let his life be dictated by his relationship with Kurt once, and he’s going to do what he didn’t before – let go and let it be.  It’s not an appropriate time for Blaine to tell Kurt that he and Karofsky broke up.  But even more so, it’s also not his place to intervene in Kurt’s dating life and more than it was Kurt’s to intervene in his relationship with Karofsky.  Blaine’s trying to give Kurt the space he hadn’t given Kurt before.  

Kurt lingers just a little as they all head out.  He knows Blaine’s lying about being there for Rachel.  There’s a little bit of longing there, and a lot of concern.  And oh the angst is hard core in this moment, as Blaine just stands their alone.  Kurt knows and is aware that Blaine’s feeling something.  He’s ready for Blaine to say something.  Look, Walter does not matter (and by the sound of it, Kurt’s been talking to Walter a lot about Blaine - since Walter clearly knows who he is, and is slightly feigning politeness when Blaine shows up).  But Kurt’s ditched both Chandler and Adam pretty quickly for Blaine, and he’ll do it again with Walter.  Just this scene – isn’t the right time.

If you’d like to read more about why Kurt continues to go on his date with Walter: READ META HERE.  And if you’d like the continued conversation as to why Kurt and Blaine didn’t get back together at /that/ second, here’s my A Wedding Meta. 

A Wedding

So, here we are -- at the wedding episode which is... slightly insane of Glee, but typical really. 

Blaine came a long way -- he had to work through is feelings of anger and frustration over the break up, as well as feel at peace in being his own person, to really come back together with Kurt.  (Kurt has his own journey as documented elsewhere.)  And, the final ball lands in Kurt’s court, Blaine’s okay with waiting.  Maybe they will get back together -- maybe they won’t.  But Blaine’s become okay in not only his feelings but understanding that life maybe just doesn’t work out the way you want it to.  

Or sometimes it does.  

We see boxes of Karofsky’s stuff in the apartment -- meaning that the playtime is over.  And then Kurt comes running back into Blaine’s life again -- desperate and sure about his love for Blaine.  And Blaine just... let’s it all in.  He’s ready and willing to let Kurt back into his arms, and into his heart, and they fall into just as if nothing had ever happened -- except it did -- they both managed to grow up a bit and be okay with themselves enough to be secure in their relationship.  

So, um, yeah -- I’ll be the first to admit that there are a few missing pieces here that I would have liked to see.  Mostly -- they kind of wall paper over their previous issues with Kurt’s line of - ‘everything was a mess before but now it’s fine’.  And while I can piece it all together from subtext from what we’ve seen -- it still would have been nice to actually see that conversation where they talk about being in a relationship again, and how they’re going to move forward.  Alas.  

That said -- I don’t think it’s insanity that they go from getting together to jumping into a marriage.  (I mean - it is insane - and not some thing that I’d recommend in reality) But one of the things that I think the marriage does is solidify their commitment for each other.  The ring around their finger is a reminder that they’re in this together -- and I think that gives them both a security in the relationship.  Blaine’s feeling committed and good, and therefore he doesn’t get clingy, which means Kurt won’t pull away, which means Blaine won’t freak out, etc, etc -- the cycle is spinning in a good direction! 

Okay, most of the stuff about the Wedding, I’ve said in the Kurt meta already (go read that, too! - or I can answer specifics, this is getting long enough, lol) The only other thing I want to mention is Blaine letting Kurt make the ultimate decision to get married.  Because now that they’re happy and back on track -- Blaine’s back to being, well, the one who always wanted to be married.  And he still does -- so he let’s Kurt be the one to call it -- because Kurt’s the one who said he didn’t want to be married before.  But we’ve come full circle, and when push comes to shove - at the end of the day, Kurt does want to be married to Blaine. 

(Oh, and here’s the part where I make the obligatory comment -- Brittany and Sue didn’t force them into this either -- they could have said no had they not wanted to.) 

Child Star/The Rise and Fall of Sue Sylvester

Well, here’s the part where I joke about us not being able to see Klaine’s honeymoon, and where I lament that we really don’t get to see much of anything about Klaine’s marriage.  Which is unfortunate.  

But - let’s talk about Dalton burning down for a second, because I do think that’s important.  Remember when Pavarotti died and Kurt was set free from Dalton?  Well this is the universe (coughthewriterscough) doing a similar thing.  There is no more Dalton -- no more safe place for Blaine to go -- he’s literally forced out of the cage he had built for himself.  And granted, he’s on the path to leaving anyway now that he’s back with Kurt, but it’s an interesting metaphor all the same.  And yeah - it’s more so about bringing Dalton and McKinley together, too -- but Blaine’s being pushed out of the nest, literally, to go off and fly away. ;) 

We Built This Glee Club

There’s really not much Blaine here, either - but Kurt later confirms that Blaine has gotten accepted to NYU -- and while I really wish we could have gotten more of Blaine’s story about how he decided where and why and when he was going to go back to school, at least we get this little bit.  And like I said way earlier -- this is good for Blaine.  He’s got his marriage, and his life is back on track moving in a forward direction -- and NYU is a great fit for Blaine, because it’s a place where he can stand on his own, separate from Kurt.  

There’s also a bit, too, a slight (literal) nod at the future - where Will talks about the future - and the idea of their future kids, and Blaine and Kurt share a knowing look.  

2009/Dreams Come True

Well... here we are, at the end of the story.  I’m not going to say too much (cause I’ve said too much already) but mostly -- Blaine (and Kurt) get their happily ever after.  They take off New York and live their life and are successful in their own right as they expect a daughter.  

The point of the entire season is to not give us fans everything we ever wanted -- but to tell a story... one about how you can be the lowest part of your life and climb your way back up, and still be happy and successful and get the ending that you’ve always wanted.  

(And, unceremoniously, here’s the Kurt Meta again - which mostly gives my Blaine thoughts, too -- cause, love ya Nonny, but I’ve been writing all day, and I’m tired, lol) 

And that’s... all I’ve got.  I mean if you’d like to untangle something more specific, let me know! I’ll be happy to answer.  Hopefully, this makes Blaine’s season 6 story just a little bit clearer. :) 

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 5

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 5, 835

WARNINGS: Cursing

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for a year, and the time has come for the show to start. But how will this affect her and Thomas’ relationship?

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 4  CHAPTER 5.2

A/N: So, there was supposed to be chapters before this one, but because I have such a hard time writing Aliena’s character into the show, I decided that those extra chapter will come after I finish S1! The first line break will indicate spoilers for those chapters, so skip to the second one, if you want to avoid reading what’s gonna happen.  

“Tommy! Tommy!” A man yelled from outside.

I was jolted from me sleep, and me body sprang forward. I wasn’t the only one who had this reaction. Tommy ‘n I both sprang up. We looked at each for a second before he leaned over me body and looked out the window. 

Tommy let out a little sigh of relief. “It’s just Curly.” He yanked the blankets off of himself. 

Meanwhile, I was busy rubbing the sleep out of me eyes. “Why would he be here at night? Did you get a new horse, Tom?”

He was busy getting his work pants on. “No. It should be about a delivery that was supposed to come in.”

Me ears perked up. “A delivery?” I leaned closer to him, practically leaning over his shoulder.

Tommy was putting on his shoes. “Yeah. I made a deal with a guy in London. Wanted motorcycles.” 

I widened me eyes in shock. 

‘The show is beginning…’

Just as Tommy was rising to his feet, I grabbed his arm. 

His eyebrows furrowed then his hand stroked me face. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

I kept looking side to side. I was trying to come up with a proper excuse. I was brought out of me trance when Tommy placed down his other hand on me face and tugged me to look at him. 

“Oi, Ali! What’s wrong?”

I huffed, closing me eyes shut before opening them. “Guns.” I said with a shrug. “Guns not motorcycles.” 

Tommy blinked his eyes a bunch of times before he shook his head with a dismissive scoff. “No, Aliena, it’s a shipment of motorcycles. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back.” 

I rolled me eyes, shoving off his lingering hand on me face. I hummed. “Yeah, you’ll see. If you wanna talk ‘bout it when you come back, just wake me up. I don’t mind.” I turned 'round and laid back down.

“Right...” The bed springs sang as he stood up. I heard the door close rather than saw it. It took some time, but I went back to sleep. 

“Aliena, wake up! Wake up, right now!” Tommy yelled as he shook me. He held me up by me arms.

Me eyes were squinted as I was trying to find the strength to open them. “Wha?”

“How did you-? No…” He muttered something before he began to speak again, “What’s a TV show? Explain to me how you knew about the guns.” 

I chuckled with a smile on me face. I couldn’t help it. “Can you think about letting me go first? You’re soaking wet, by the way.” He let me go but the crazed look on his face never went away.

“Explain.”

I nodded. I started to climb out of the bed. “A TV show is like a series of movie pictures.” I stood on me feet, reached up, and carefully took off his cap. Tommy was just staring down at me.

“Except they’re shorter and meant to tell the same story in this case, at least.” I slipped off his drenched coat, never looking away from his gaze.

“A TV show has episodes and sometimes if it’s successful, or they were highly popular- they would have a season. A season or sometimes called a series, they both mean a collection of episodes.” I turned around and went to hang his coat on a chair.

“So, you’re telling me that me and my family had something like that. In what, your world?” He scoffed to himself. A hand raised to his mouth, going over his bottom lip. 

I turned back to him. I knew I had a grave look on me face. I tried to look stern as I replied. “Yes.” 

He shook his head while pursing his lips. “No.” He muttered.

I sighed, looking down at me hands while trying to pick out the non-existent dirt from under them. “Try not to think of it like that.” I rushed to him and cradled his face in me hands. “Think of me as Gypsy kin like you said. I can see into the future, that’s all. I have dreams. I hear spirits.” 

Tommy chucked humorlessly and looked up while his tongue poked out to quickly lick his bottom lip. He tsked as he brought his head back down while nodding. “Right.”

“I don’t know what else to say.” I laughed nervously while looking away. I never took me hands from his face. 

Tommy sniffed before saying. “We keep this between us. You can’t tell anyone else. They’ll lose their minds, or think you’ve lost yours. I have questions. Can you answer them?”

I, finally, put me arms down. I shrugged. “Don’t know. It would depend. But you can give it a shot.”

Tommy sat down, so I scurried to do the same. 

“The guns that just came. Would I be-! No. … Is it safe to keep them?” He asked.

I furrowed me eyebrows as I scoffed. “Tommy, it’s common sense that it’s not safe to keep ‘em.”

He sighed. “Not like that. Would it be a stepping stone to the family business?”

I thought about it. “Yes.” I jumped as I had a thought. “I got it. I’m not giving you any details, so form your questions into ones that can be answered by ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Tommy leaned forward, spread out his knees a bit, then rested his elbows on his knees while his hands held up his head. 

There was silence for a while. I managed to keep sane as I fiddled with me hands. Tried cracking them all.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Very soon, I’m going to take a horse down to Garrison courts. There’s a rumor that a Chinese girl there is a witch. I’m gonna pay her to do the powder trick. Does it pay off?”

I whispered. “Yes.” 

Without any warning, he stood up and walked to the door. Before he left, he said. “Go on back to sleep.” He closed the door behind him.

I was staring at the door long after he was gone. The room was oddly colder than before. I ran out of Tommy’s room and went into me own. I didn’t go back to sleep. I just drew until it was time for me to go to work.

It’s been a year since I magically appeared in the universe of Peaky Blinders. It’s been a wild ride. Me birthday here was celebrated with the Shelby’s and me girlfriends. Polly got me paints and pencils for me drawings. Ada’s present had to be given to me at night since it was lingerie. She said it was because I would have a fella of me own anytime now.

‘Yeah, right!’

Arthur was so sweet and bought me canvases. Only to find out it was because John had bought me paints, who was beaten to the punch by Polly. They told me after that they planned on giving me two pound each if I didn’t like the present. 

I had to get me present from Tommy the day after me birthday. He walked with me a little ways out of Small Heath, where there was a lone tree in a field. I could see it now. I remember clasping me hands over me mouth. Me tears wasting no time to flow down me face. I ran to it and started tracing the lettering engraved into headstone that was there under it. 

I talked about it in passing. I never expected for him to get it done for me. I told him that I wanted a headstone for me ma’. I would never see her again, so I wanted somewhere where I could grieve me loss. He gave me that. I sobbed into his arms so much that day.

It sucked going over to the Ritz after that. I was supposed to still be having fun which I was, but me eyes stung. Angelica gifted me expensive dresses she thought I would like, and I did. Christiana gave me hair accessories which I appreciated. Cassie gave me a pearl necklace. I cried again. It was me da’s birthstone. It was like I got them back for a day. 

Despite me joy for having a place for me ma’ and carrying a piece of me da’ around, I think it made me depression worse. After all, me ma’s birthday was in February. The guns were found a week before me ma’s birthday. 

On that day, I had Freddie drive me to Blackpool beach. I had me a good ‘ol breakdown at there, then I went back home. I didn’t explain it to Freddie, but I think he understood. He must have known that I was grieving.

I locked meself in me room and got bladdered. I stole a bottle of whiskey and almost drank it all. I should have known that Tommy would catch me. He decided to babysit me, and made sure I scarfed down some bread and drank water before I went to sleep. I made him talk to me, though. I made him talk to me ‘til I fell asleep.

Work was hell the next day. I wasn’t hungover, but I had a good headache. Had a cob on the whole day, but I had to keep a lid on it. It’s hard dealing with people who control your salary the whole day ‘cause if ya piss them off— they can easily dock your pay. 

Mrs. Davies down at the bakery and Mrs. Aitken down at the flower shop loved pinching me cheeks. It was nice at first, but then they started fucking doing it harder and harder every time I came in.

Anyway, the first season starts today since Tommy told me in the morning that he’s taking Monaghan Boy down to Garrison courts. 

‘Let me tell you, I am not happy that I’m gonna have to deal with Grace fucking Burgess. I do not want to see Thomas Shelby fall in love! In front of me face! It’s torture! As if I’m not already depressed. I have enough baggage all on me own, sir!’

I stopped sweeping the floor and pinched the bridge of me nose. This is how fucking gutted I am! I exhaled slowly before I decided to stop worrying ‘bout the inevitable and focus on me work. 

“Finn?” That was Tommy.

Me mind instantly connected the dots and I ran to the parlor. I got there just in time as he picked up Finn’s discarded ciggie. 

“Finn Shelby, what in the ‘ell are you doing smoking? Stop smirking, Tom. Arthur wants you.” I took the ciggie out of hand and pushed him aside. 

“Sorry, bud. You’re on your own.” Tommy lightly brushed the back of his cap on Finn’s face as he left. 

Finn looked up at me. I shook me head. I crouched down to meet his gaze. 

“What have I told you abar these horrid things? Huh, Finn! Just ‘cause your brothers smoke doesn’t mean you hafta.” I stubbed out the ciggie and left it in the dish. 

“But it’s no fun being the only one who doesn’t do it. They don’t have anyone yelling at them.” He said with a pout.

I huffed, feeling annoyed. “That’s not true. I nag Tommy all the time.” I crossed me arms.

“Liar! I’ve never seen it!” 

“Yeah ‘cause then he wouldn’t be able to face ya, so I have to scold him in secret. So, don’t tell ‘em I told you about it.” I ran me hand over his hair, smoothing it out. “I catch you with one of these again ‘n I’ll smack you upside the head. I promise.” 

“No, you won’t.” 

“I bloody will!” 

Suddenly, there was a shout that caught our attention and I flew to me feet. 

“I'm calling a family council tonight at 8:00. I want all of us there. You hear me? There's trouble coming.” Arthur yelled as Tommy stormed off. 

Arthur and I made eye contact ‘n we just nodded at each other. I walked around the table and shut the door to the betting shop. I dusted off me hands then turned me attention back to Finn. 

“Go on then, la. It’s your free day.” I walked back into the living room where I had to finish sweeping. 

Finn followed after me. He sat in one of the two chairs. 

“Aliena,” He said. “when I grow older, you’ll be my wife, right?”

I froze at the question, or was it a statement? I giggled. 

‘Does little Finn have a crush on me?’

I stopped laughing and asked. “What are you on abar, Finn?”

“I don’t know. I figured that when I grow up, you’ll marry me.”

I began to giggle again. “Finn Shelby, you won’t even propose to me. Just expect it of me, eh? Well, I’ll make you a deal. If I’m still single by the time I’m 30, I’ll marry you.”

Finn jumped off the chair and rushed over to me. I had to crouch again to meet his eyes.

“You promised, Ali! You can’t take it back!” His smile was so big and adorable. It made me heart melt. 

‘I can’t believe that me first love confession is from a 10 almost 11 year old. Just me luck!’

“Now you take me promises seriously, huh? Yes, I promise. Now, run along. I still need to work out some errands, and I can’t have you bugging me.” I shoved him toward the door, and I didn’t pay attention to where he ran off to. 

True to me word, I got done with the sweeping then went on to finish me errands. Mrs. Davies’ pinch was slightly less harder than Mrs. Aitken’s today, and thank the Lord for it! 

‘I swear one of these days these ladies are gonna leave me with bruises!’

I had to run to the house ‘cause Mrs. Davies was chatting me up for so long. When I got there, Polly and John were walking in at the same time. They noticed me. 

“Aliena, how come you aren’t in the house already?” Polly asked me. 

I had to run a few more steps before I was caught up with them. “Mrs. Davies was chatting me up again. Wouldn’t let me leave ‘til I finally made up an excuse.” I was clutching me side since it had cramped up a little. 

‘I’m getting better at running. Which is good since I’m, well, maybe used to be an asthmatic. I don’t even need glasses to see far away anymore!’

“Well, shit. Looks like when the meetings over, we’ll have to fucking hussle to make dinner.” 

John opened the door for us and we walked in first. We walked into the betting room where Finn was standing by the door of. 

Polly and I walked on ahead. 

John said to Finn, “Sorry, little man. Maybe when you’re older.”

Arthur clapped his hands before shouting. “You’re all late. Why the-!”

“Yeah and we’re here now. Let’s get on with it.” Polly interrupted while taking off her coat and taking a seat. 

John took a seat and I leaned on a beam next to him. Me eyes naturally drifted over to Tommy’s direction. He had a ciggie burning. 

‘I swear this man! Well, baby steps.’

I’m fucking tellin’ a blag to meself, but at least I got him off the opium. He’s not drinking or smoking any less, though. 

‘I’ll give him one year. On December 3rd when the season is over, I’ll get to him. By all that’s holy, I’ll be bugging him abar his smoking!’

I think he felt me glare ‘cause he looked straight at me. I knew I was caught, but I wasn’t flustered. I glared at the ciggie by his side then back up at him. 

The little fucker just smirked and raised it to his lips. 

I rolled me eyes and looked to Arthur who was about to start the meeting. 

“Right! I've called this family meeting because I've got some very important news. Scudboat and Lovelock got back from Belfast last night. They were buying a stallion to cover their mares. They were in a pub on the Shankhill Road yesterday, and in that pub there was a copper. Handing out these.” Arthur said as he passed one to Ada then the rest of the pile to Lovelock.

Ada passed it onto John who read it aloud. “If you're over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham." John passed it to Polly.

“They're recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as Specials.” Arthur told us.

“To do what?” Ada asked.

“To clean up the city, Ada.” Tommy answered. “He's a Chief Inspector. The last four years, he's been clearing the IRA out of Belfast.”

I bit me lip as I knew that the tension in ‘ere would start to rise.

Arthur asked, quite agitated- might I add. “How do you know so bloody much?”

“'Cause I asked the coppers on our payroll.”

“And why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm telling you.”

Arthur took a swing out of his flask. I’m not equipped to handle stressful environments within friendly prescenes. So, I was making dumb faces in the corner. Like meme worthy faces. I literally did a tight lipped smile, that “white people” meme smile. I sported that smile with me eyebrows raised while widening me eyes, and looking away to the corner where no one stood.

“So, why are they sending him to Birmingham?” Polly asked with a magnifying glass in her hand.

“Well, there's been all these bloody strikes at the BSA. And the Austin works, lately. Now the papers are talking about sedition. And revolution. I reckon it's communists he's after.” Tommy said. 

But I noticed that when he said the comment about the communists, it got a reaction out of Ada.

“So this copper's gonna leave us alone, right?” 

“There are Irishmen in Green Lanes who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear in the night.”

“Yeah, but we ain't IRA.” John said. The attention turning on him. “We bloody fought for the King. Anyway, we're Peaky Blinders. We're not scared of coppers.”

“He’s right.” Arthur said.

Then, John delivered that famous line. “If they come for us, we'll cut them a smile each.” 

Let me just say, I had to hide me smirk. It was crazy how I felt pride when he said that.

“So, Arthur. Is that it?” Thomas asked. He looked unimpressed. 

“What do you think, Aunt Pol?” Arthur completely dismissed Tommy. 

Polly looked over at Thomas. I knew she knew that Tommy was up to something. I just hoped she never suspected I knew anything abar it too.

“This family does everything open. You've nothing more to say to this meeting, Thomas?”

“No. Nothing that's women's business.”

“This whole bloody enterprise was women's business while you boys were away at war. What's changed?”

“We came back.” 

Polly said or did anything after that. I was expecting a judgemental hum, at least! 

“Right! This concludes the family meeting!” Arthur announced. 

Polly stood straight up, her chair scraping the wood floor. “Come on, Aliena. We need to hurry up with dinner.” 

I followed her into the kitchen.

After dinner, I noticed that Polly had pulled Tommy aside as I was taking everyone’s dirty dishes to be washed. Not a minute later, Tommy came up to me.

He cleared his throat, his hand reaching for a ciggie. 

“Reach for it now and I may just throw this cuppa water at you.” I said with a teasing smile.

“Don’t know why. You know I’ll smoke it the minute I’ll leave your sight.” 

I blew raspberries at him.

“Well, Polly asked me to join her in church. So, it’s best if you sleep in your room tonight. I’ll probably be working ‘til late morning anyway. Okay?” He was looking at me with such expecting eyes. I noticed that he always wanted a definitive answer from me, hardly ever accepting me nods. 

“Yeah. Got it.”

“Good.” The second our conversation was over, he reached for a ciggie again. I paid it no mind this time and focused on getting the dishes done. 

The next morning, I got up abar an hour earlier. I was almost tempted to go back to sleep, but instead I crawled out of bed and took out the suitcase that hid under me bed. I unlocked the one that had an assortment of items, and took out me locked diary. 

I still don’t know why I was given a suitcase full of miscellaneous item, but I knew they would come in handy someday.

When I first came here and I couldn’t sleep, I took the liberty of writing out what I could remember from each episode. I knew it would benefit me!

I wrote, ‘After Thomas and Polly talk, the scene shifts to Grace coming into town. She gets the job. Then, Arthur gets captured by Campbell and gets roughed up badly. Tommy goes to the Garrison where he meets Grace. He comes back to the house and-’

Simultaneously, I shut me eyes and shut the book. I heaved a big sigh. 

‘Tommy will meet Grace today. “Are you a whore?” The gobshite! He’ll probably start distancing himself from me.’

I sighed again. When I gathered me pride, I got up and decided to have an early start on the day. I won’t allow Thomas Shelby to write me off from his life like that. 

‘I don’t care if the little fucker sees me like a little sister. I’d still be special to him and that’s all that counts. He stands between me and the whorehouse, in me opinion.’  

I did me hair in a bun, as always, but I choose a maroon button-up shirt and a green midi length skirt. Look, the skirt came to about the middle of me legs, alright? Then, I made breakfast. Polly wasn’t up yet which was absolutely weird for me! I didn’t know if she was out doing something, or something.

When I was done eating, I got me coat ‘n headed out the door. Men greeted me and moved out of me way like always. When I got to John’s door, I was troubled. The kids weren’t used to seeing me this early neither was John. I didn’t want to exactly intrude, but I also wanted to get some stuff out of the way, so I could see the scene where Arthur comes home after he gets beat up. 

So with that in mind, I unlocked the door to John’s flat. I immediately started cooking breakfast. When seven rolled ‘round, footsteps came pattering down. A head peaked from ‘round the corner and it was Katie.

“Ailena?” She asked. “Why are you here so early?” 

I smiled at her. “I just missed youse. That’s all.”

She scoffed with a smile. “It’s only been a day.” She took a seat.

I got up from the chair I was sitting on ‘n poured her some juice. “A day can feel like an eternity.” 

We had some time to talk before John came down. He was definitely surprised, but happily took the breakfast I made him and left to the shop. Once he left, I went to get the other kids up. I had them all dressed and “in school” by 9 am.  

They moaned and groaned abar having to be taught by me, but they would learn it’s for their own benefit in the future. By the way, the only one who was civil was Katie and John Jr.. But that was because I just read ‘em books— so he had nothing to fuss abar. When it hit 10:30, I said me goodbyes and told them to stay safe. 

I rushed back home where I found Finn smoking. I kept me promise and smacked him upside the head. Told ‘em it was time for school ‘n he ran off to get his stuff. He was getting better. Already getting closer to reading in his grade level. 

See ever since I took up the job to be their teacher, I’ve gone to sleep later. It was around 3 in the morning when I was by meself and 12 when Tommy decided he needed sleep. Any other time I would have to hassle him to sleep. His sleep schedule was a mess, but no matter what- he always got up at 5:30 or 6. 5:30 is with sleep while the latter is without.

When I was by meself, I would stay up making the lessons. 

It would be critical thinking problems that you’d get back in the 2000s. Stuff that I was asked. For math, it ranged from each kid. Katie was on percentages and long division, Ilsa and Finn were on multiplication and division and the adding and subtracting of long numbers, while Robbie was barely learning how to add and subtract. John Jr. was learning how to count to 100. 

It was almost 12 when Arthur pounded at the front door. I had abandoned Finn and ran to tell Tommy, who was in his office in the shop. 

I opened the door without knocking which caused him to look up at me. 

“It’s Arthur.” I said, almost breathless. 

His eyes widened and he instantly got up and rushed past me. I followed after him. We both went to the parlor where Polly was looking after him, working on wrapping up his hand. Tommy took one look at his face then ran out. 

‘Grace.’ I thought. 

“Ali, heat up a kettle of water, will you?” Ada told me.

I nodded. I went into the kitchen, filled the kettle with water, and heated it up. 

“Here ya go, Ada.” I said once it was done.

She took it and set it aside while I walked over to John who was leaning on the doorway. I took on the left since he was on the right. 

“John, wipe the blood out of his eye.”

“Since when did you give orders?”

“I'm a trained nurse.”

John and I both had these smirks on our faces while Arthur scoffed.

“Don't make me laugh.” Arthur said. “It hurts me face.”

“I bloody am.”

“You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling.” John said.

“Not before I learned how to stop somebody from choking.”

“I'm not bloody choking, am I?” Arthur said.

“You will be when I wrap this cloth ‘round your neck.” Ada said while pouring the water into a pan. The door opened and in walked Tommy with a bottle of rum.

I couldn’t stop the chuckle that came from me throat. John and I looked at each other, still having similar smiles.

“Let me see him.” He walked ‘round to Arthur with a ciggie hanging from his lips. He inspected his face before giving ‘em the bottle of alcohol. “All right, have this.”

Arthur took one swing before putting it back down with a groan. Tommy wrang the cloth of its excess water. “Give me that.” He said, pouring some of the bottle into the cloth before pressing it against Arthur’s face.

He inhaled sharply in pain. 

“You’re all right.” Tommy said, trying to soothe him. Both of his hands cradling his brother’s face.

But Arthur clasped his hand around one of Tommy’s arms. “He said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said. Something about a robbery.”

Tommy backed away from him. Almost visibly upset, if you knew how to read him. I didn’t miss the pointed stare Polly gave ‘em either. 

“He said he wants us to help him.”

John interrupted. “We don’t help coppers.”

“He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots. Like him.” 

I scoffed to meself since I knew the truth. ‘Fucking bastard! Didn’t even fight in the war.’

“Wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said-!” Then, he groaned in pain. Polly sh-ing him up as she bandaged his hands. “I said we'd have a family meeting, take a vote.”

Tommy said nothing. Just kept staring off. Now that the show was starting, it was so much easier to read him. It was obvious to me that he was rattled, but I’m sure to the rest of the family it looked like he couldn’t have been bothered.

“Well, why not? Hmm? We've no truck with Fenians or communists.” 

Tommy kept his mouth shut again. He was looking over at Polly and then at me. He exhaled audibly before Arthur started up again.

“What's wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” He turned to Polly.

She said. “If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Compton's chemists. Ali, come help me clean his face up.���

I stood straight. Tommy and I shared a glance before I looked away and took the cloth that had been discarded onto the table into me hands. I barely touched his face with it and he fuckin’ hissed.

It was the dead of night. I was busy correcting past homework that I had given to the kids. I was on Finn’s math when I heard Tommy’s door open and then close.  If I remember correctly, he was supposed to use his pipe to go to sleep tonight. 

That worry alone motivated me enough to finish up Finn’s paper faster. 

‘The bastard is stubborn. No, all men of this age doesn’t like asking for help. Especially the help of a woman.’

I exhaled with puffed cheeks as I marked Finn’s last problem. I hurried out of me chair and to Tommy’s room. Me robe whipped around me. When I opened the door, he had a fire lit and was rolling out his pipe. 

He looked at me. No emotion shown. I was mad. I was-!

‘I didn’t think as I marched up to him. I didn’t slap him, but I slammed me hand down on the light he had lit.’ 

No, that was just an intrusive thought. I really wanted to do it, though.

I walked up the light and blew it out. “You’re not doing this. You have me.”

“I did this because I don’t want you.” Despite saying that, he rerolled up his pipe and set it down on the nightstand.

“I outta break that thing, you know. Just chuck it into the fire downstairs.”

He whipped his head up at me and he glared. 

It made me shiver and not in a good way. Reflexively, I glared back. “Don’t try intimidating me, Thomas. Not tonight. You want to sleep. Let’s do it my way as agreed. Because you have fallen asleep my way and you were the one who set up-!”

“Yeah! Okay, I got it.” Very childishly, he laid down with his arms crossed above his eyes. 

I sighed. ‘I should probably ask him about the shovels. If he still hears them with me.’ 

So, I did. 

“Tommy, do you still hear the shovels? Even when I’m here… with you?” 

He stiffened. Then, he dropped his arms. He looked up at the ceiling with his jaw clenched. He tsked, closing his eyes. “No. I don’t hear them.” 

“Do you still dream abar them?” Me throat burned as did me face. 

“Yes. But not as often anymore.” His tone was so sad.  

“Then, why were you-?”

“Because. I shouldn’t be relying on you, a girl who’s not my family, to get me sleep at night. One day we’ll have to go our separate ways. It’s only right that you find yourself a good man and you can’t sleep with me then, now, can you?” He looked at me. The look on his face was sharp. 

‘It’s like he’s breaking up with me.’ I laughed at the thought.

“You don’t have to worry abar that. I’m not gonna find meself a good man anytime soon.”

“You don’t-!”

“I do! So, let it go and let me help you. You’re a good man, Tom. I don’t want to see you suffer. Especially when all you want is to do is get a good night’s rest.” I stopped fiddling with me hands and dropped them to me sides. 

‘He wouldn’t know that there was a warning lying ‘round me words. That he was gonna be suffering more. Soon, he’d have to orchestrate Danny’s fake death. Then, everything else.’

“Fine.” He said. 

I took off me robe, climbed over him, and laid beside him. I bit me lip before deciding to speak. “Lay lower than me. Don’t question it, just do it.” 

He sighed and did as I said. I scooted meself up then closer to ‘em. “Lift your head.” He did it and I extended me arm under his neck. “Face me.” He did it. His head near me chest. With me free hand, I brought it up to his face and began to stroke his cheek and run me fingers through his hair. 

I whispered things to him like, “You’re safe now,” “You’re home,” “Nothing’s gonna hurt you,” and “It’s okay to fall asleep.” 

And he fell asleep. He fell asleep fast. I, on the other hand, didn’t. I was too hyper aware of his body being so close to mine. This was the first time I’ve ever held a person of the opposite sex. It surprised me that this even worked! 

But, like I said, I didn’t fall asleep fast like he did and sometime during the night, his breathing quickened and his hold on me tightened, by a lot. I figured he was ‘aving the dream abar the tunnels, so I started soothing him again. It took ‘em awhile, but he calmed back down. I couldn’t bloody go to sleep after that, so it took me abar another 30 minutes before I fell asleep.

The next day was calm, nothing noteworthy happened. At night, Tommy told me that I was to head to bed. I asked him why ‘n he said that he was heading to Charlie’s yard. I twitched at the name. I always did when he said that name. After all, it’s me birth name.

The day after that in the midmorning, he ran to me ‘n asked me if his plan to fake Danny’s death would work. I told ‘em yes.

I saw when he came back, visibly disturbed, his head hanging low. I wanted to comfort him but Arthur got to him first. I remembered me place then. I couldn’t comprehend the plot that much. I watched as they had their dispute. I jumped when Tommy closed the book shut and then walked off. 

He grabbed me arm before he left ‘n told me I was sleeping by meself t’night too. I nodded and then he left the shop. 

That night I watched as the snow fell. Me heart felt as if someone was squeezing it through me chest.

Guess me wish wouldn’t come true, afterall.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston​ @nemesis729​

[genesisrose74]

Karasuno Boys Singing Headcanons!

A/n: By this point I hope that everyone has seen the masterpiece that is Sugawara’s wonderful voice actor singing Under the Sea, which has won the spot in my heart for cutest thing I’ve ever heard. I then proceeded to go off the deep end of Haikyuu voice actors singing and safe to say I was in no way disappointed, so here’s some Karasuno boys singing headcanons! If you have any requests my ask box is open 💖 enjoy!

Daichi

Is it just me or would Daichi not care if someone heard him singing

He seems like the type of person who hums all the time 

Partly because it helps relax him after yelling at the team all day LMAO He doesn’t necessarily sing with lyrics every chance he gets, but when he does he’s pretty casual about it

He’ll sing in the car a lot, and it was actually the first place you heard him

Boy has a soothing playlist for school days and you always like hearing his voice when he drives you in the mornings

Will hum when you’re both doing schoolwork in his or your house

Doesn’t realize he has a good voice, so he never tries to show off all that often in front of people and thus the team has not heard him full out sing yet

So when they does hear him like, actually singing for the first time at the end of practice they’re SHOOK

Tanaka and Nishinoya instantly start spamming you with texts, asking why you hid away such a precious secret for so long

You’re sitting in the library staring at your constantly vibrating phone like ??? doesn’t he sing all the time?

When you end up texting the boys this question they go absolutely feral

At this point Daichi is losing his voice yelling at the team to calm tf down

Suga is cackling in the corner of the team gym cause he been knew

It’s absolutely chaotic literally someone come save Daichi please-

Sugawara

HAHA GET READY BOYS

Official team mom of Karasuno sings all the damn time don’t even get me started

Always humming some upbeat tune doing schoolwork, cleaning up after practice, in the car, etc.

Seriously when is this sweet baby not singing

The team is well aware of this, especially the sideline cheer squad (Yamaguchi, moi ippon nice serve!) 

Tell me he does not make up rhyming cheers under his breath during matches I dare you

Will literally make up a stupid song on the spot to describe whatever he is currently doing or feeling

Hinata bathroom vibes tbh but it’s even more out of the blue

“Got an A on my exam today, and things are going my way”

“Suga, for the love of everything please stop”

“Daichi thinks I’ll listen to what he’ll say, but I’m singing more anyway”

He is always on board with karaoke whenever Karasuno has team bonding nights

One time you are invited to this by Suga himself and he gets up and starts singing a Disney song haha guess which one 

And as often as the team has heard him sing mans is feeling it tonight for whatever reason and y’all can tell

You have never heard anyone sing Under the Sea so passionately before but it’s a gift and you’re not complaining

Asahi

Boy is so insecure oh my gosh please give him some support

Very shy about singing in front of anyone and everyone

The only time you’ve ever heard him sing was when you were over at his house and he was taking a shower

You had gone downstairs to get a snack from the kitchen and when you come back up he’s singing alongside one of his playlists

You don’t know if it’s because of the steam and the solid acoustics in the bathroom but he doesn’t sound half bad

You try not to startle him as soon as he gets out because you know how flustered he’d get

But then a while later while y’all are studying on his bed you just casually bring it up like ‘You have a nice voice, Asahi’ and that’s all

He’s a little shocked at first that you heard him but kind of smiles and sighs in relief because you liked his singing!! 🥺

Precious teddy bear is totally happy for the rest of the week, like that’s how much your praise means to him sdlkgjfdjsof he’s too cute

Eventually warms up to humming little tunes around you

He’s really blushy when he does but you pretend not to notice for his sake lmao

It makes you so warm inside that he feels comfortable enough to let you hear him

Ennoshita

In this house we do not sleep on Ennoshita

As much as he is the mom of the second years he will flaunt his stuff whenever he gets the chance and this is one of those times

If a generic pop song is on at literally any point in time and he hears it, damn right he’s going to sing 

When it comes to singing Ennoshita is hands down the most chaotic no question about it

Sometimes he’ll actually sing a verse pretty decently

And then the next line is just the embodiment of a dumpster fire and he does not care

These are the only times that Tanaka and Noya get irritated with him and not the other way around

But Ennoshita doesn’t give a shit, he’s so cheeky

Like he’ll be walking through the mall and a banger of a song like Fergalicious comes on over the speakers? You’re done for

Even if he doesn’t know the lyrics at certain points, or deadass does not know any of them at all, he’ll just power through

If there is a sports banquet complete with dancing and music and the team attends, Ennoshita is tearing up the floor and singing his heart out

Honestly you’re a little scared to interfere cause what is he even doing-

He has made quite a few friends from opposing teams with his frankly lunatic level energy

I’m looking at you Oikawa, Tendou 

Tanaka

ANIME. INTROS.

He sounds EXACTLY like that opening singer from Bungou Stray Dogs I wonder why

No but actually we all heard his little song in season one, when he’s late and walking to the gym like what a king-

In summary he is a pretty good singer 

Most definitely a frequent participant during team karaoke nights and everyone enjoys his little performances

When he realizes that girls actually like guys who can sing he starts using this to his advantage 

And surprisingly it ended up working

You’re out at karaoke with some friends one night and you hop outside to get some more food for your group when you hear somebody slaying Rough Diamonds; your mind instantly goes to Food Wars

It catches your interest and then you realize...this dude goes to your school? You are positively whipped

He sees you from the doorway and when he realizes you’re enjoying the song he amps it up another three notches

Achievement get: girlfriend 

Karaoke dates and other such outings happen often, thank you very much

As much as he enjoys singing he does not overdo it like Ennoshita, who has been limited to three songs per night every time the group goes out, please for the sake of everyone’s eardrums

Nishinoya

As Tanaka’s best friend and as the co-president of simps everywhere, Nishinoya is another common singer during karaoke nights

Having fun and maybe picking up a cute girl at the end of it all? That’s literally his life agenda

He either goes for the badass, headbanging songs that are super energetic, or he jams out to the generic and famous pop groups’ songs

There is no in between

Noya has a slightly deeper singing voice but sometimes he’ll go for the stupid high notes for fun and just...completely fails

The fact that he has never successfully hit one of those notes doesn’t deter him in the slightest though; his goal is to get there at least once before he dies

He can sing so many popular TikTok audios and you can’t decide whether to be impressed or slightly disappointed with that fact

Noya doesn’t really sing at practice just because he’s focused, but when he’s walking home or getting food from Sakanoshita afterwards he might start randomly singing something

The type of person who has like a billion different playlists on his phone for the most obscure moods (honestly same Noya)

Like there’s one named “Bad Test Grade But I Won a Free Popsicle Kind of Feeling” don’t even ask 

Will put on a concert in his room and perform a whole lineup of these songs for you

Sometimes you think it’s just so he can avoid doing schoolwork but you let him get away with it occasionally

cause you’d never tell him but it’s so entertaining and kinda hot what

Tsukishima

OH GOD THIS BOY

I swear you have tried time and time again to figure out whatever the hell kind of music he listens to with those chonky headphones of his but you have never successfully completed that mission

There are only two - count em, TWO - instances where you have ever witnessed this embodiment of a salt shaker doing anything resembling singing

Number one was a literal meme TikTok where you were using Beyond the Mysterious Beyond from Land Before Time as your audio

You didn’t expect Tsukki to recognize it at all 

But he’s in the top corner of your phone screen and he is deadass LIP SYNCING EVERY WORD and you’re SENT INTO ORBIT 

DOES HE STUTTER? NOPE

Should have expected that Mr. Dinosaur Obsessed would have watched Land Before Time and loved the all the bops

That video is forever saved in your drafts because he’d literally end you if that went public but you refuse to completely get rid of it

Second time, our french fry child actually sings because Yamaguchi forces him to do a song with him lmao

It only lasts for about three verses but it’s all anyone has heard from him before and is therefore a blessing from above

If anyone has heard these two singing Sarishinohara on YouTube you know what I’m talking about if not look it up it’s an absolute gift 

Literal perfection in a duet like?? Everyone is depressed when they realize that Tsukki’s voice had been hidden from the world until that very moment

We will cherish this short taste of Singing! Tsukki for all time amen 😔🙏

Yamaguchi

Like Asahi, this precious bean is also shy about his singing 

But he will sometimes get a burst of confidence if he’s having a really good day or if someone is singing with him

When those moments arrive they are wonderful 

He sounds like an angel, not even exaggerating he’s just so pure

Has a very light tone no matter how the song originally sounds and it’s really soothing to be honest

When his little bouts of confidence wear off please for the love of God praise him in any way shape or form, it makes him feel good about himself 

On team bus rides to games, he and Yachi will sometimes sing fun tunes together to calm each others’ nerves and it’s incredibly precious

Tsukki will send you videos of this pregame ritual and you have a folder reserved for them in your camera roll 

Everyone say thank you Tsukki

He will sing for you if you’re feeling super down about something because he knows you love it 

Never fails to calm you down and cheer you up, and Yams knows in those moments that he would gladly sing for the rest of his life if it made you smile

We stan one soft, talented bean sprout 

Kageyama 

Another stubborn boy when it comes to singing in front of other people

He will hum on rare occasion but don’t expect much more

You start to realize that whenever he does start humming, though, it’s always the same song, so one day you ask him about it

It’s a song his grandfather used to sing to him when he was little and he uses it to calm himself down

You almost start crying on the spot because you know how much his grandpa meant to him 

Kags says there were lyrics to it but he doesn’t remember them besides a few random words scattered here and there

It becomes your personal mission to find the rest of the lyrics because you’ll be damned if your precious baby goes another day without hearing them again

Finally after countless obscure Google searches you find the song 

But you don’t know how to casually bring up the fact that you had spent hours obsessively looking for them into a conversation-

So one day you’re hanging out with Kageyama, but he’s been in an awful mood all week, and you decide to start singing the song that his grandpa used to but including the lyrics

And when he recognizes the words and puts the chorus together, he instantly relaxes and starts singing it with you

He is so touched and thankful that he can finally recall the song in its entirety, and now you both sing said song to each other whenever the other is feeling down

I love him so much my heart-

Hinata

When you find out he can sing you’re absolutely floored

Literally the only time in his life that Hinata can successfully speak English words and it’s in a song? And it’s coherent?? It’s a miracle

The whole team gets on his ass about sucking at English in class but being able to obliterate those lyrics when they come up in a song and the poor tangerine gets all huffy

hE’s tRyiNg HiS bESt oKaY                

His range is SO GOOD THOUGH WHAT-

You’re in the middle of a store with him and he’s been occasionally singing along to the music from the speakers and at this point you’re not even surprised at how good he sounds

But then he just starts singing in falsetto

BOI- When I say your jaw is on the floor I am not playing games 

The power he holds is beyond comprehension

He’s looking at you confused like did he do something wrong?

When you proceed to flip out over how great he just sounded baby gets so embarrassed how cute

Again, one of those people who just doesn’t know their gift and it makes him even more precious 

I would kill to have his capabilities like imagine the talent; if that whole volleyball thing doesn’t work out there’s also the music industry sir-

In conclusion: CAN SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS SUNSHINE A MIC THANK YOU

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this week - 27

“All right, I'll count to 8, and if you haven't smiled, I'll strangle you.”

Godard’s seminal À bout de souffle (Breathless) with young Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg (Photo Above) + cameos of NINE New Wave directors: Himself, Melville, Jacques Rivette, and 6 more friends from the movement.

One of la Nouvelle Vague’s first & most revolutionary moments. Is it a love story, a nihilist crime story or a comedy?

9/10 - Bravo!

✴️       

“It rained the day daddy died”

Something Beautiful Left Behind is a sad documentary about kids whose parents died. In New Jersey, a group called The Good Grief helps young orphans deal with their loss and process their emotions.

The story telling is very simple, and there’s nothing here but children quietly mourning and struggling to carry on with the fact that their mom, or dad, or both, will never be with them again. Only at the very end, the focus expands for one poignant moment, and at a gathering of 1,200 members, they all send fire lanterns into the night sky.

(Danish produced!) - 9/10

✴️  2 with tragically quiet Juliette Binoche:

✳️✳️✳️ In the first of Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Three Color Trilogy, Blue, gorgeous Juliette Binoche survives a car accident that kills her composer husband and her 5 year old daughter. In sorrow, she cuts herself from everything in her past, but can’t be completely free.

Falling away from one’s life - ambiguous, poetic and intelligent

- The best film of the week!

✳️✳️✳️ Louis Malle’s disappointing next-to-last film, Damage, where Binoche plays a femme fatale that starts a “passionate” sexual affair with British minister Jeremy irons, the father of her fiancé.

It’s so “steamy” that they do it everywhere, on the floor, in the kitchen, in the alley. But why? What does she see in him? What’s both their motivations? It’s completely unclear.

✴️        

So I had to compensate with another UK ministry drama, my most favorite Armando Iannucci‘s black comedy satire In The Loop, about the lead-in to the invasion of Iraq, and of which I wrote about here.  

Here’s the Best of Malcolm Tucker.

10/10 - Fuckity bye!

✴️        

Between ‘Kimono My House’, ‘Propaganda’ and ‘Indiscreet’, I used to like the early 70′s Sparks, with their provocative Hitler mustache and Bowie-lite aesthetics. So I was looking forward to Edgar Wright‘s brand new Sparks Brothers fan-bio. But apart from learning that they collaborated with Jacques Tati on a movie before he died, this endless parade of irritating celebrity interviews was tiring and redundant: Imagine hearing somebody like Fred Armisen saying things like “I remember where I was when I first heard their song ‘so and so’ - it was so unique for its time and nobody was doing anything like that then... It was - just incredible - Wow ..”

3/10

✴️       

Chris Marker’s 1962 “experimental” La Jetée: In the aftermath of World War III, a prisoner in post-apocalyptic Paris is subject to an experiment in time travel, because of a strong recollection he has from his childhood of a pier at Orly Airport.

Made entirely of black & white still photos, with minimal sounds & voice over. Haunting.

I must re-visit the “Left Bank” side of the French New Wave, Resnais, Varda, Melville, Duras...

✴️       

And La Jetée inspired Terry Gilliam’s 12 monkeys who used the same basic science fiction premise. It’s a typically Gilliam-baroque, noisy and thick, with lots of retro steampunky pipes and fog and analog gizmos, but why did it have to star human ape Bruce Willis?

All over the map - 2/10

✴️        

A brand new ticking clock medical drama, The God Committee, about an organ transplant committee that must make a decision within one hour who of 3 possible recipients "deserves" a life-saving heart the most.

6/10

✴️        

John was trying to contact aliens is a short (16 min.) documentary about a lonely DJ in rural Michigan who had spent his whole life searching for celestial signals in order to prove that there’s someone out there, beyond our immediate circles. Surprising!

✴️         

Offbeat season 2 of Tim Robinson’s crazy sketch show I Think You Should Leave. Still irreverent, wacky, absurdly funny.

With Conner O'Malley (’Randy’ from ‘Palm Springs’!)

✴️          

The Shooter, a 2013 Danish thriller with Trine Dyrholm and Kim Bodina (Does he always play heavies and psychos?), which is apparently a remake of a 1977 film.

It seems that many of the Danish films I’ve watched have minor sub-plots abroad, in India, Africa, Mediterranean... It expands the plots, and enables the crew to take a little trip

At 55 min. they drive pass our neighborhood! Fun!

5+

✴️        

Having started and never finished reading Umberto Eco’s book, I imagine that the film adaptation of The Name of the Rose is striped out of its intellectual semiotic depth, and left only with visuals of a detective monk in a foggy 14th century Italian monastery. No matter: It was still a lovely murder-mystery in unusual settings.

With the most unlikely choice, 17 year old Christian Slater, to join venerable Sean Connery as Adso von Melk, his novice apprentice.

✴️        

Sam Mendes’ American Beauty about escape from suburbia, still brilliant after 22 years.

Creepy and unhappy Lester Burnham fantasizes about his daughter’s teenage friend bathing in red rose petals.

✴️          

Chaplin’s last masterly silent film Modern Times, made toward the end of the Depression, still on point. 80 years later, his visionary insights about work, industry and progress ring anti-capitalistic with unabashed socialist leanings. Not a didactic piece of propaganda, this is pathos pure and simple, full of tears and laughter, about a man who wants a job.

Also, a love story of two nameless people who have nothing to their name.

Smile though your heart is breaking - 9/10

✴️           

First watch: David Cronenberg’s Body Horror classic, Scanners, mostly telling and not showing, except of a couple of exploding heads and engorged veins.

Do I need to watch all the famous Science Fiction movies I never bothered to before?

No! 2/10

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

À bout de souffle Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

His Salvation ~ A John Winchester One-Shot

Summary: Based on SPN, S1, E21 “Salvation”. John gets threatened by Meg the demon if he doesn’t give the Colt to her. Meg threatens him, and harms Leigh while still on the phone. John tricks Meg by handing over a fake Colt. John, thinking Leigh (who’s the only woman to help him with hunting, with the boys, with coping with the loss of Mary, and also the woman he loves) is dead, goes to give Meg the Colt. On the way there, he gets a call from the hospital saying his wife has been involved in an accident. It takes him a minute to realize that Leigh’s actually alive since their secret code was to call each other husband and wife if they ever got in trouble. The search for the demon that killed Mary is put on hold. There’s never the car crash that happens at the end of S1, so John doesn’t need to make a deal with the yellow-eyed demon to save Dean. 

Warning(s): Language. Angst. Threats - spoken, unspoken, well known, good,  and bad. Violence. Fluff. Leigh’s a badass. Not beta’d, so...there’s that. I only have Grammarly used on this. 

Author’s Note(s): Hey, y’all! I know it’s been a really long, hot minute since I last posted an update. Writer’s block is an absolute demon. Depression too. And with everything else going on this year, it’s just been crazy! But, here’s a John Winchester One-Shot! If I get enough feedback for it, I’ll do a part 2! But y’all gotta let me know! Hope everyone’s staying safe, staying negative from COVID, and that y’all have a Happy Holiday season! As always, I’m here, so feel free to reach out! 

Word Count: 3,828 words

Relationship(s): John Winchester x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic]. 

Characters: John Winchester. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester. Demon!Meg. Mary Winchester (Mentioned).

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan @cladd716

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Story Time:

John’s P.O.V. ~ Salvation, Iowa - 2006

“Meg.” Sam says into his phone, shock lacing his voice.

My head jerks up from where I’d had it resting in my hands after arguing with the boys, well Dean really, ‘bout them not being able to get me to answer the phone. I know I suck at phone calls. To be honest, I really can’t stand phones...they’re just too confusing for my 51-year-old ass, even if you’d never know that’s how old I am since I look like I’m in my late 30s, maybe late 40s. 

I’d much rather use a landline than a cell phone. It’s a miracle the ones I do have even stay charged. I have Leigh to thank for that. She’s been my saving grace, my salvation for well over two and a half decades. Hell, maybe even longer than that. She helped me raise the boys after my wife, Mary, died when Sammy was six months old, even though she was just barely outta her teenage years herself.

She was 15 when we first met 25 years ago and she became Dean’s babysitter and later Sammy’s. After Mary died, Leigh was right there, willing to help me with the boys as I set out on the mission to find Mary’s killer. I’d never wanted to get her dragged into the lifestyle of a Hunter, but she insisted, saying someone needed to help take care of the boys.

And...after rescuing her when her parents were killed by a werewolf a few years later, she stuck ‘round even more. By that point, she was 22, and made it clear she was an adult and could do whatever she wanted which just so happened to stick with the boys and I. So, I did what I had to, and we learned the ropes of being a Hunter together.

After Sam went to college a few years ago, it was just Dean, Leigh, and I. We continued on hunting. Sometimes, Dean would go on his own hunts, but Leigh would always stick right by my side, hunting with me. Somewhere around the time that Dean was in high school, Leigh and I ended up together.

I was hesitant at first, considering I’d known her since she was a teenager, but she pointed out that she was only 10 years younger than me and had always had a crush on me. So, after a rough hunt and a night of patching each other up, we’d fallen into bed together. From that point on, we were together. 

The boys approved even if Dean had been a little hesitant at first; he didn’t want anyone to take his mom’s place. No one would ever take Mary’s place, but there was no denying the role Leigh had in all of our lives. She’d been the one to calm me down after Sam left for college, something I’d always wanted for my boys, but after being a Hunter for so long, I was only worried ‘bout their safety.

That was why I didn’t want Sam to go to California, to Stanford. I felt if he were there, I wouldn’t be able to protect him as easily from the things that go bump in the night. But, Leigh calmed me down, telling me that Sam was an adult now, and could make his own choices as well as being able to protect himself since we’d taught the boys a lot of what we knew.

The only reason Leigh’s not here, with us, with me, is because she went to see our friend and fellow Hunter, Caleb up in Lincoln, Nebraska, and help him with a case. The boys and I are working a lead that, hopefully, brings us closer to finding Yellow Eyes, the man, well, the demon responsible for Mary’s death. 

Both Dean and I stare at Sam as we listen to his conversation with Meg. A woman who’d befriended Sam when he and Dean had a spat outside of a small town in Indiana a while back. She made her true colors show when she’d tried to have them killed. Only...she ended up falling out of a seven-story window.

There’s no way a human could’ve survived a fall like which means...she’s not human...she must be...fuck. She’s a demon. I get pulled outta my thoughts when I hear Sam’s voice and feel his eyes on me.

“My dad. I don’t know where my dad is.” He says.

I raise a brow, running a hand over my face and letting out a sigh. I stand and walk over to the motel window, looking out of  it for a moment before turning back to Sam in time to see him holding his phone out to me. I sigh again and take it.

“This is John.” I say, my voice deep and empty of any emotions.

“Howdy, John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood…”

My heart tightens in my chest at her words. Jim was a close friend, fellow Hunter, and a priest. He was also murdered yesterday. I found out from Caleb when the boys and I were heading up here to Salvation, Iowa. Jim’s death...hit hard. It wasn’t ideal to get close to anyone, not in our line of work, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“...Still there John-boy?” Meg’s voice cuts through the phone again.

“I’m here.” I ground out.

“Well, that was yesterday. Today, I’m in Lincoln.” 

My heart tightens again.

“Visiting another old friend of yours.” 

My lungs stop working. 

“She wants to say hi.”

My knees nearly buckle as my stomach drops to my chest. No. No. God-fuckin’-dammit! No! I take in a breath, trying not to give away the turmoil currently going on inside me. ‘Specially not when I hear her voice through the phone. 

“John, whatever you do don’t give…”

I hear Meg shush Leigh and my heart breaks. 

“Leigh?” I let out in a deep breath, trying my best to keep my emotions from being relayed to Meg.

The boys both jerk their heads up and look at me, worry and confusion on their faces. I blink and close my eyes for a second.

“You listen to me.” I tell Meg. “She’s got nothing to do with anything. You let her go.”

“We know you have the Colt, John.” Meg replies, her voice even.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Oh. Ok. Well, listen to this.”

My brows furrow and a moment later, my whole world comes crashing down. The sound of a knife or something equally sharp slashing through something followed by the sound of Leigh gasping and clearing drowning in her own blood fills the phone. I slump against the wall, my knees barely holding me up at this point.

“Leigh. Leigh!” I somehow manage to yell, nearly crushing the phone against the side of my face.

“Save the boys, husband.” I hear the love of my life croak out as she bleeds to death.

My heart breaks at the title, something I’d dreamt ‘bout hearing her call me for the last few years, but hadn’t happened, and was really just our code word we’d use when we were in a tough situation and wanted to let each other know everything was gonna be ok. Except. This time. It wouldn’t be ok. 

Not as I hear the sounds from Leigh slow.

“You hear that?” Meg taunts. “That’s the sound of your friend dying. Now, let’s try this again. We know you have the Colt, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we’re concerned, you just declared war. And this is what war looks like. It has casualties.”

I growl. “I’m gonna kill you. You know that?”

She laughs. “Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure. So, this is the thing. We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved. They’ll all die. Unless you give us that gun.”

I take in a deep breath, not saying a word as I listen to her words and try my damndest to hear any sign from Leigh. Something to tell me she’s still alive. But I know...I know it’s not possible. Leigh’s dead. The love of my life. The first woman I’ve let myself love since Mary. The woman who helped raise my sons.

The badass woman who I was gonna ask to marry me once I’d ganked the evil son of a bitch that killed Mary. The only woman who had somehow broken down all the walls I’d built up. She was dead and I’d failed her. Failed to protect her. Failed to...fuck. I’d failed her. And I couldn’t fail her anymore by letting Meg and her demon friends kill more of mine and Leigh’s friends or any other innocent person.

“I’m waiting, Johnny.” Meg says. “Better answer before the buzzer.”

“Okay.” I sigh.

“Sorry? I didn’t quite get that.”

“I said okay. I’ll bring you the Colt.”

                                                             ***

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~ Lincoln, Nebraska

After Meg slit my throat, and I managed to croak out a few words to John, everything got darker with each passing second. By the time Meg hung up the phone with John, I’m barely holding on. I can feel my heart barely beating and breathing is almost impossible, but I refuse to give up. I refuse to die like this.

So, I make it seem like I had. This ain’t the first time I’ve faked my death. But it is the first time I’ve faked it while being alone. Meg being in the room doesn’t count. I mean being alone by not having the Winchesters nearby. Just barely holding on, I hold my breath and keep my eyes open, staring right at Meg.

I want her to think I’m dead and for her to stare right into my eyes as she does. I watch, not moving, not blinking, barely conscious, as she tosses the phone on my lap, and sneers at me.

“What the hell are you looking at?” She hisses before walking outta Caleb’s office.

I wait for a solid 15 seconds, even though it feels like an eternity, to make sure she’s truly gone before I force my thumb to press five buttons on my phone, hoping it’s right. A second later, I hear the call connect as it starts ringing, the noise amplified by the speaker. Another second passes before I hear the call truly connect.

“911. What’s your emergency?” The operator asks.

“Ambulance.” I croak out. “Now. Please.”

“Ma’am? I’m sorry. I need you to repeat that. Can you speak up?”

“Ambulance. Now.” I try to say louder.

“Ma’am? What’s your location?”

I try to get the address to Caleb’s out, only hoping the operator can make sense of it. I know my GPS is turned on, so hopefully, she can trace it. 

“Ambulance.” I manage to get out once more.

It’s a miracle I’ve managed to hang on this long, let alone get this much out. But, of course, every miracle ends at some point. As soon as I get the word, everything goes black.

                                                            ***

I come to, briefly, to bright lights, loud noises, and a bunch of people standing over me. 

“My husband. John Winchester. Call him.” I say, hoping it’s loud ‘nough.

One of the people standing over me says something, but I don’t hear him. Everything goes dark again as I pass out again.

        ��                                                   ***

John’s P.O.V. ~ Lincoln, Nebraska

Getting outta my truck, I answer my phone without looking at the caller ID. I don’t care who’s calling me. Not anymore. Everything’s numb. Yes, I have my sons, but for the second time in my life, I’ve lost the woman I love. The boys warned me that this was a suicide mission. There’s only one reason Meg would want me to come alone with the Colt, but I told them I didn’t care. 

Sam looked at me with understanding in his eyes since he knew what I was going through from where he’d lost his girlfriend, Jess, a few months ago. Dean tried to argue with me, but I just gave him a look and he shut up. We arranged for me to bring Mega a fake version of the Colt in order to buy the boys some time so they could finish out the hunt and finally kill Yellow Eyes, once and for all.

I flip the phone open and press it to my ear as I stare up at the warehouse where I’m supposed to be meeting Meg.

“What?” I say into the phone.

“Is this John Winchester?” The man on the other end says, making me tense up.

“Yes. Who is this and how did you get this number?”

“Your wife. Your contact was in her phone.”

I furrow my brow. “My wife?”

“Yes, sir. Your wife. I’m sorry to tell you that she’s been attacked, but she’s at Bryan Medical Center West Campus.”

“Wait. What? My wife? Attacked? She’s alive?”

“Yes, sir. She is. She’s in surgery now.”

“I’ll be there soon!” 

With that, I hang up my phone, feeling my heart beat faster in my chest.

“She’s alive.” I whisper to myself. “My fuckin’ badass girl. She’s alive.”

I glance around, spot a water tower on the roof of the warehouse, and after checking my pockets for the rosary beads, I head up there. I bless the water, turning it into holy water. If Meg’s a demon, she’s gonna fuckin’ pay even more for what she put my girl through. After blessing the water, I head inside the warehouse.

I make my way to one of the large, empty rooms, knowing that’s where Meg’ll be. Guess I’m early. She’s not here yet. Fuck. I just want to get this over with. Looking around, I realize I can rig something up to put the water lines on a makeshift timer. So, I do. Then, I scrawl out a note, telling Meg how sorry I am I missed her, even though it’s not true, and that I hope she rots in hell. 

That part’s true. 

Once I have the note written and the timer set up, I lay the Colt on the floor with the note, and then book it back to my truck. Even if this isn’t how I wanted things to go with Meg, I don’t give a shit. Even though I haven’t slept in two days, and am running off of straight caffeine, I don’t give a shit. Leigh’s alive, and I’m not gonna waste another minute not by her side.

I tear outta the warehouse parking lot, rushing to the hospital. As I drive, I call Dean.

“Dad?” He asks. “How’d it go with Meg?”

“She’s alive.” I blurt out, talking ‘bout Leigh.

“Meg? You left her alive?!”

“No! I didn’t see her. Something came up. I left her a note. She might come for y’all…”

“Left her a note? Why? What came up?”

“I got a call from the hospital. Leigh...Dean...Leigh’s alive.”

“She is?!?! What? How?”

“Yes. She is. So, I’m heading to the hospital. I’ve got to be by her side. But. I wanted to let you know. In case Meg shows up.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for her, dad. Don’t worry. You stay with Leigh. We’ll come as soon as we’re done here.”

“Thanks, son.”

Our conversation ends a few moments later. I pull into a parking spot at the hospital a few minutes later. As soon as I’m parked, I have the keys outta ignition and in my pocket as I rush outta the truck and into the hospital. I take a deep breath once I’m inside, trying to calm my nerves. The last thing I need is to appear even more outta it than I already am.

I run my fingers through my already messed up hair and then down my face, taking another deep breath in. When I’m done, I walk over to the nurse’s station.

“Excuse me, miss?” I say in what I hope is a soft, non-shaky tone.

The young nurse looks up from her computer. I give her a small smile.

“Yes, sir?” She asks, blushing a little.

“Hi. I got a call. My wife...she was attacked...they said she was here?”

“Wife? What’s her name?” Her fingers resting on her keyboard.

“Leigh Sullivan.”

She nods and quickly types my girl’s name into the computer. Whatever she sees on the screen has her eyes widening more than the Grand Canyon. My heart falls deeper into the pit of my stomach. 

“What? What is it?” I ask, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter so tight that my knuckles turn white.

“Nothing, sir. I just...your wife, sir…” She starts.

I swallow deeply, expecting the worst. “Yes?”

She looks up at me. “Sir, your wife is one of the most badass women I’ve ever heard of. To survive having her throat slit and still making a 911 call? I respect her.”

I let out a deep breath. “So she’s still alive?”

“Oh! Yes. I’m sorry. She is. She’s outta surgery now too.”

“Thank fuck. Can you tell me what room? I got a badass woman to see and tell her she’s loved.”

The nurse smiles. “Of course, sir. She’s in room 214.”

“Thank you.” 

I give her another smile and then head to room 214. Standing in front of the door, I urge myself to try and calm down. The last thing Leigh needs is to see me panicking. Slowly, I open the door and step inside. As my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, I take everything in. The Hunter in me looks for anything unusual.

Seeing nothing outta the ordinary, the normal part of me focuses on the figure lying in the hospital bed. My heart breaks as my feet shuffle forward. Leigh’s lying there, hooked up to a bunch of different machines with a thick band of gauze ‘round her neck. Aside from that, she looks like she’s peaceful, almost as if she’s just sleeping.

I slump down in the chair next to her side, and immediately take her small hand in both of my much larger ones. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss her knuckles, not paying attention to the tears rolling down my cheeks. It’s been years since I’ve cried. I haven’t allowed myself that luxury. But now...I can’t stop it.

I don’t want to. I thought I’d lost Leigh, but my girl...she’s a fuckin’ fighter. I hold her hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

“Leigh? Baby, I’m here.” I tell her, my voice shaky and full of emotions. “Wake up for me? I wanna see those beautiful eyes, that stunning smile, and hear you tell me that I’m a fuckin’ dumbass. So, wake up? For me? Please?”

When she doesn’t respond, I place another kiss to her knuckles. I didn’t really expect her to wake up. Not right now at least. She’s been through hell. She needs her rest. Hell, I need my own rest too, and I end up falling asleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair, Leigh’s hand in mine, and my head by her hip.

                                                            ***

Over the next week, I stay by Leigh’s side. The boys eventually show up a couple of days later, looking just as exhausted as I do. Dean tells me that he killed Meg, says it was payback for what she’d done to Leigh. Sam stays by Leigh’s side, holding her other hand. Four days after the attack, Dean looks at me.

“Dad?” He starts.

I look up at him. “Hmmm?”

“You should go shower, get something to eat, get some actual sleep.”

“I’m not leaving her, Dean.”

“I know, Dad. But, you need to take care of yourself. You haven’t really been sleeping, and I know for a fact that you haven’t taken a shower in nearly a week. You’re starting to stink. We both know that Leigh wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

I sigh. “I’ll take a shower in the bathroom there.” I point to the bathroom attached to Leigh’s hospital room. “Can you go get my bag from my truck? The one with the clothes, not the guns.”

Dean nods. “I’ll do that. And I’ll run out and get some food too, while you shower. Sammy can stay with Leigh.”

I run a hand over my face, nodding. “Fine. But I won’t take a long shower. I don’t...I just gotta be here when she wakes up.”

Both of my boys nod in understanding. Dean leaves the room while I stand and look at Sam.

“I won’t leave her side, Dad. Go shower. You stink worse than that hunt we were on when all the showers in the town stopped working ‘cause of the monster.” He says.

Unable to stop the small, soft chuckle that escapes my lips at his words, I nod. I lay a hand on his shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort before I lean down and place a soft kiss on Leigh’s forehead. 

“I’ll be right back, baby. Your old man’s gotta go get cleaned up so you don’t ditch his ass when you wake up.” I whisper, half jokingly.

She doesn’t respond, but I don’t let it crush my hopes. Not any more than they’ve already been crushed. I make my way to the bathroom, and turn the shower on. While I’m in there, Dean cracks the door.

“Dad? I’m putting your bag by the door here.” He says.

“Thanks, son.” I call out as I wash my hair and beard.

He just let out a grunt in response and the door shuts once again. Dean’s always been more of the silent type unless he’s being a smart ass, but when it comes to him hurting, he’s always been more silent instead of letting his emotions completely show. After I’m as cleaned up as I can be in a hospital shower, I step out, dry off, and tug on a pair of semi-clean jeans, an old tee, and one of my plaid button-up shirts that Leigh loves the most.

I open the bathroom door and glance toward the bed. I see beautiful hazel eyes staring back at me.

“Leigh.” I rush over to her side. 

I lean down and gently capture her lips with mine. After a few seconds, I pull away and look into her eyes. 

“I love you, Leigh.” I whisper.

She smiles slightly with droopy eyes. Even when she’s like this, she’s so fuckin’ beautiful. 

“You don’t have to say anything but I wanted you to know.” I smile widely. “I’ll say it forever if you’ll let me. Get some more sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I kiss her forehead as her eyes close. Yep. I’m definitely proposing soon.

[woodentranscripts]

Season 1 Episode 1 The Bane of Rudyard

It's the worst day of Rudyard's life when new competitor Eric Chapman arrives on Piffling and becomes an immediate sensation.

Written by David K. Barnes

EPISODE ONE: THE BANE OF RUDYARD

[narration from Madeleine]

Now, Hidden in the English Channel is an island called Piffling. On the island is a village - Piffling Vale - and the village has a square, and the square has this lovely little antique shop but opposite the antique shop is a funeral home which is where much of this chronicle will be set, I’m afraid. You see, I want to tell you all about a man named Rudyard Funn. He owns the funeral parlour, he’s responsible for all the funerals in Piffling Vale and today, he experienced what was undoubtedly the worst day of his life. Which was probably long overdue.

 [funky intro music]

 REV: We gather here today to celebrate the life of Stanley Carmichael, who was taken from us only five days ago   

 He continues

[narration] It all began with a funeral, the antique dealer Stanley Carmichael, whose shop was immediately opposite Rudyard’s premises, had led a life of peace and ordered calm of eighty nine years… and had subsequently crushed to death by a granite sundial. 

 REV: I confess I never actually bought anything from him. His prices have been quite steep actually, though I did have my eye on that sundial. I might still be tempted if it came down in price, hint hint. (laughs)

 [narration] Stanley’s relatives pricked up their ears at the prospect of getting something for that granite sundial. Whilst nearby, his eyes sunken, his skin pale and drawn: stood Rudyard, looking at his watch and wishing strongly that the reverend wasn't an agnostic.

REV: … and undoubtedly looking down at us from his place with God. Unless you don't believe in that sort of thing - which I won’t hold against you, mind you God probably will. Unless he doesn’t exist, in which case he won’t even have anything to complain about, really. 

RUDYARD: (clears throat) Reverend. 

REV: Sorry, did somebody say -

 RUDYARD: Reverend. REV: Oh hello Rudyard- RUDYARD: You’re rambling. REV: Sorry? RUDYARD: You’re rambling again REV: Oh God, am I?

RUDYARD: Yes! REV: I’m so sorry, where was I? RUDYARD: His spirit looking down at us from his place- REV: OH! From his place with God, yes, yes, thank you, right, right, I’ve err Looking down at us from his place with umm… no. No, actually, I don't suppose we could have a quick show of hands? RUDYARD: No! No! Now come on! REV: If you believe in God, could you put your hands up, can we all do that? Put your hands up if you believe, ughh right, right err bout half. Um so! Ah yeah. What I might do is do the service twice- RUDYARD: We don't have time! 

 REV: Once with God in it and the other without. RUDYARD: No! We’re overrunning. REV: Oh! But I thought I might read out a few psalms RUDYARD: Which ones? REV: I don’t mind, I'll be happy to take requests if anyone’s got any favourites? RUDYARD: Nononono. We’re sixteen minutes behind schedule, nearly seventeen. Georgie? (snaps finders) Wake up! GEORGIE: (groans) I don’t want to RUDYARD: We need the coffin in the ground. Now. GEORGIE: Sir, it’s a very heavy coffin RUDYARD: What’s your point? GEORGIE: I’m the only pallbearer RUDYARD: Oh stop moaning, put your back into it! GEORGIE: Ughh Fine! REV: Do we have time for some funny anecdotes? RUDYARD: We’re late as it is and it’s pissing it down - so no. PERSON 1: He’s ruining everything! RUDYARD: There you are reverend, you’re losing them REV: Oh! I thought they were rather getting into it! PERSON 2: Not him, you! RUDYARD: Me? PERSON 3: You horrid little man, stop hurrying things along!

 RUDYARD: Don’t you know what a schedule is? PERSON 3: So rude! RUDYARD: This isn’t my only gig today, you know. I’ve got Mr Ascii to measure up in half an hour! PERSON 1: He’s not dead! RUDYARD: Well he doesn’t look healthy, though, does he? PERSON 3: Stop talking we’re trying to honour Stanley! RUDYARD: Honour Stanley! You didn’t even like him. PERSON 3: How dare you! RUDYARD: I noticed in the shop you slipped that carriage clock down your blouse when you thought no one was looking! (gasps) RUDYARD: And the dressing table! (even more gasps) PERSON 2: I knew it! PERSON 3: Shut up! Bill swiped the portrait of Ova Broughn PERSON 2: Bill! I wanted that portrait! PERSON 1: Well you can’t have it! (gasps) PERSON 1: I’m sorry Jerry, I just lost control, OW REV: Now come, come everyone. Stay calm… Jerry put that shovel down! RUDYARD: Alright, Georgie, get the body in the ground GEORGIE: Sir, They’re not very happy RUDYARD: Of course they don’t look happy, it’s a funeral. Off you go! (she grunts) [narration] The service completed, Rudyard Funn and Georgie Crusoe fled the cemetery and hurried back to the funeral home. Established by local character and serial bigamist Gilbert Funn in the fifteenth century, Funn Funerals have always maintained a solid reputation for being the only funeral home on the island. RUDYARD: (grunts) What it could be a good thing back there, you saw Stanley’s widow GEORGIE: That sad old lady RUDYARD: Yes, when she took a swing at her son in law I think she fell into the grave instead. I don’t know if it was fatal but it looked promising to me GEORGIE: Do you think we’d be able to have a quiet funeral RUDYARD: Asking for the impossible never helped anyone GEORGIE: People smiling, swapping happy memories, I’m not sure every funeral should end with violent conflict RUDYARD: Georgie, once you’ve been here a few more months you’ll realise all funerals always end in bloodshed, there's very little you or I can do about it. Now go and get the measuring kit I want to go to Mr Ascii’s and see if he’s dead yet! GEORGIE: Are you sure it’s worth the bother? RUDYARD: I’ve gone round everyday for the last six weeks, I’m not giving up now, Hop to it! GEORGIE: yes sir~ RUDYARD: Get me a dry jacket, and another hat! Where’s Antigone? Antigone! Now look here, yes. Stanley’s widow! Ha I knew it! No, nothing sorry. We can fit her in a six o clock, I’ll leave her in the ground for the moment, it’ll save time in the long run. No, she shouldn’t be brawling at her age. Of course I could fancy my chances against her, Im thirty-five, she was eighty-two see you at six. Georgie! We’ve got a full day ahead of us! Where’s Antigone? GEORGIE: Try the mortuary! RUDYARD: Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone? Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone are you in the- ANTIGONE: What?! RUDYARD: I’m back. ANTIGONE: I’d rather look at the corpses. RUDYARD: Oh for- ANTIGONE: Does rest in peace mean nothing to you?! RUDYARD: Well I don’t hear the guests complaining. Room for another? ANTIGONE: Is it Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Not yet, this ones a bonus! [narration] That’s Antigone, Rudyard’s twin sister, despite actually being born one week afterwards. The poor dear had been diagnosed with depression within twenty minutes of being born - a world record which gave her no consolation at all. ANTIGONE: So how was it today? RUDYARD: Err the vicar’s getting worse and of course it was raining and inevitably it ended with a punchup over a portrait of Eva Broughn. But personally I found it all very moving ANTIGONE: Brilliant, so that's another grieving widow we’re going to have to apologise to RUDYARD: No we won't. ANTIGONE: Why not?! RUDYARD: She fell into the grave and died before I left! ANTIGONE: She what?! RUDYARD: It’s been a very productive morning ANTIGONE: You really have no concept of what good business is, do you? RUDYARD: I’d love to disagree with you and Oh! I’m doing it right now ANTIGONE: I’ve been in the mortuary all morning and do you know what I’ve been up to! RUDYARD: Oh sure I don’t want to know ANTIGONE: I’ve spent the past five hours mixing formaldehyde and methanol with clementine and a tiny, tiny dash of cinnamon. That’s what I’ve been doing for five hours! RUDYARD: Should I ask why? ANTIGONE: To try to make our embalming fluid smell nicer! So the bodies will smell nicer! Because have you really ever smelt a body, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Why do we still talk to each other? ANTIGONE: Now! Thanks to me, they’ll smell brighter, fresher, not like bodies at all. That’s the sort of service I’m striving for, Rudyard. I want them to forget that the body is a body. RUDYARD: Yes that’ll work, our Grandad’s dead but don’t worry because he smells like christmas! ANTIGONE: It’s attention to detail Rudyard! It’s how we run a business, you would know! RUDYARD: We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time GEORGIE: Sir, your other jackets been eaten by moths - I saw the whole thing. RUDYARD: Not now, Georgie, how long did it take for the coffin to get to the ground this morning? GEORGIE: A couple of seconds? RUDYARD: Now that’s a good service! GEORGIE: Because I dropped it RUDYARD: But it got where it needed to be and that’s what they pay us for. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the very last time! They don't want chaos! They don’t want stress and they don’t want a relative dead before the first is even been buried! RUDYARD: How do you know what they want?! ANTIGONE: In the name of sanity, Rudyard - RUDYARD: I’ve got a very busy day ahead of , so just get back into the mortuary CHAPMAN: Hello! RUDYARD: Yes? CHAPMAN: Eric, Eric Chapman. I’m new, to the place! Just arrived! GEORGIE: Good morning RUDYARD: Georgie, leave it to the professionals. Good morning. We’ve not met. CHAPMAN: No, because I’m new, to the place RUDYARD: You don't have to brag about it! I have met people before CHAPMAN: You’re Mr Rudyard Funn, of Funn Funerals? RUDYARD: Correct CHAPMAN: Terrific name, suppose you put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: No, of course we don’t, that’s obscene CHAPMAN: Sure, never mind

ANTIGONE: Hello Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: OH! Jesus ANTIGONE: Is this too close? CHAPMAN: A little bit! ANTIGONE: Sorry! CHAPMAN: No, don’t mention it! ANTIGONE: Sorry, I’m Antigone, sorry pleased to meet you. CHAPMAN: Err, likewise call me Eric. Are you in charge? ANTIGONE: I’m the mortician, where the action is, CHAPMAN: I bet there’s not much you don’t know about the body, Antigone? ANTIGONE: That sounded like a double meaning GEORGIE: It’s called flirting ANTIGONE: Oh gosh, is it? CHAPMAN: Well, now ANTIGONE: It’s smashing, do it again, have I made it awkward? DAMN RUDYARD: I haven’t got all day! CHAPMAN: Yes so, Rudyard, Antigone and GEORGIE: Georgie, Hi ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CHAPMAN: I saw you at the funeral, didn’t I GEORGIE: Yeah, helping out, it’s a job RUDYARD: Georgie, don’t give away company secrets GEORGIE: I was only - ANTIGONE: Hang on, you were at the funeral this morning? CHAPMAN: Yes I was RUDYARD: And I’m sure you’re impressed with what you saw there Mr Chapman but we really are frightfully CHAPMAN: Actually I wasn’t entirely sure it came off RUDYARD: I’m sorry? CHAPMAN: For a start it got a little violent didn’t it? RUDYARD: Did you think so? CHAPMAN: At the end yes RUDYARD: I’m not sure what funeral you were watching, Mr Chapman but all I saw was good clean mourning CHAPMAN: Didn’t someone die? RUDYARD: A very convenient place for it to happen, Georgie GEORGIE: I’m not RUDYARD: There you go, don’t let us keep you Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: And I thought there could have been a greater attention to detail. Stop me if I’m getting too critical. RUDYARD: Okay I’ll stop you there ANTIGONE: Shut up, carry on Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Eric ANTIGONE: Gosh CHAPMAN: I have to say it was a little bit grim, I mean it’s a funeral it’s hardly party time but even so these occasions should be a celebration of life rather than going on about death, do you know what I mean? RUDYARD: Nope CHAPMAN: Ah, I don’t want to be made more miserable and I want to remember those happy magnificent memories, I want a cheerful atmosphere, bright flowers, music, funny recolations ANTIGONE: Sweeter smelling fluids CHAPMAN: Exactly, fluids? ANTIGONE: I think they’re very important. CHAPMAN: Sure thing. That's what I mean! Sorting out those little details, pushing the boat out, or the hearse out, well that's just my two cents for what it’s worth RUDYARD: Well, I don’t know what planet you live on, Mr Chapman, but - ANTIGONE: Thank you! We’ll bear those things in mind, won’t we Rudyard. RUDYARD: remind me- ANTIGONE: Smashing! CHAPMAN: Anyway, I thought I’d swing by ANTIGONE: Oh any time! CHAPMAN: Thank you, ANTIGONE: Any time at all CHAPMAN: Yes, I was just swinging by to see the competition. RUDYARD: Competition? CHAPMAN: Yes. ANTIGONE: You mean like a raffle? CHAPMAN: Not exactly RUDYARD: I hate raffles CHAPMAN: That’s a strange thing to hate. I meant you lot! Er, Funn Funerals the local competition… In funerals RUDYARD: You’re an undertaker. CHAPMAN: Well clients prefer funeral director ANTIGONE: You’re just visiting though?! CHAPMAN: No, I live here now, I’m setting myself up ANTIGONE: Your own funeral home? CHAPMAN: yeah, Chapmans, not quite as catchy as Funn Funerals but there we are ANTIGONE: Where are you going to be? CHAPMAN: You know the antique dealer you just buried, Stanley Carmichael? I’m just taking over his premises. ANTIGONE: Just across the square! CHAPMAN: That’s right! Opposite you actually, we’ll probably see a lot of each other, compare notes, swap stories, down the pub - mine’s a light ale by the way. Err did someone die in here? RUDYARD: Goodbye Chapman. CHAPMAN: Oh sure! Glad to meet you Rudyard, Antigone ANTIGONE: Chapman. CHAPMAN: Georgie GEORGIE: See you later ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CAPMAN: Okay. (exhales) Enjoy yourselves! Ah! The sun’s come out! RUDYARD: If he thinks I’m going to buy him a light ale, he’s very much mistaken. ANTIGONE: Oh shut up Rudyard! This is actually very serious. GEORGIE: He seemed fine ANTIGONE: No he didn’t, Georgie, coming over here waving his credentials in our faces, giving us feedback, my god! GEORGIE: I thought you liked him? ANTIGONE: Liked him?! Liked him?! GEORGIE: Yeah! You were talking about fluids and everything! ANTIGONE: That’s professional chit-chat for god’s sake, do you think I like gorgeous handsome men, do you? Exactly, it’s disgusting, it’s disgusting RUDYARD: I can’t think of a scenario where I would buy someone a light ale ANTIGONE: Rudyard, focus! He is serious competition RUDYARD: Him? Competition? Were you listening to the man? GEORGIE: No she wasn’t, She was gazing into his eyes ANTIGONE: Georgina! Go and make some tea. GEORGIE: We haven’t got a kettle ANTIGONE: Buy one. GEORGIE: Fine ANTIGONE: Rudyard, we’re finished, I think I’ll take a cyanide capsule RUDYARD: We are not finished, we’re an established firm, going back centuries! Nobody round here is going to book a funeral with a complete stranger. ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Look At His Shop! RUDYARD: What is it? ANTIGONE: He’s already changed the sign! ‘Chapman’s’ Just like he said. RUDYARD: I’ll admit he’s working quickly. ANTIGONE: That does it. You’ve got to see the mayor, tell him this village isn’t big enough for two funeral homes! RUDYARD: That’s not a bad idea actually, I’ll see him now. (leaves) One day I’ll find an umbrella. [narration] Rudyard scuttled across the village square and up the step leading to Piffling Hall. He was shown into the office of the Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond. A man who thought the most wonderful words in the english language were “I’m sure it’s going to be fine!” SECRETARY: Mr Rudyard Funn to see you sir. MAYOR: Oh, Thank you Margery RUDYARD: Your worship, I really am most desperately sorry to- where are you? MAYOR: Down here, Rudyard, Under the desk. RUDYARD: Why? MAYOR: Ohh, just sitting here, you know. Doing a bit of thinking, big world out there RUDYARD: Yes, er I came to ask you- MAYOR: Rudyard, do you know what the difference is between a village and a town. RUDYARD: Well er, a town has a greater area, MAYOR: Yes? RUDYARD: Higher population, more amenities MAYOR: Ah, amenities, yes RUDYARD: A mayor! MAYOR: oh yes RUDYARD: I actually came to- MAYOR: We have to do something, Rudyard, with our lives haven’t we Rudyard? Don’t you think? RUDYARD: Yes! MAYOR: I look at my seal of office sometimes and all my envelopes, and I read my name, and have I done enough I ask myself, am I even Right Honourable because I don’t feel it. RUDYARD: Well, to call yourself Right Honourable you have to be a judge or a privy counsellor MAYOR: Really? I’m going to change all my stationary now! You see, this is the thing I’m talking about! What have I earned? What have I achieved? God knows we have to try and justify ourselves, somehow. RUDYARD: mhm, I don’t like the man across the road from me. MAYOR: Exactly, and then what with my sister passing the bucket last week, oh top drawer send off you chaps gave her by the way. RUDYARD: Oh, thank you! MAYOR: Oh, pity it rained RUDYARD: Yes well MAYOR: Can’t help that, or the grounds subsidence, still we all laughed seeing her flopping about like that did we- anyway, Do you know what I’ve decided to do, Rudyard? I am going to turn this village into a town. That’s what I’m going to do. I mean things must expand, mustn’t they? RUDYARD: Probably? MAYOR: Do you think so? Good! She used to say terrible things to me, my sister RUDYARD: I’ve got a problem actually MAYOR: Have you? Well can I help, cause I really like to be useful RUDYARD: I think you can be, you see, your worship, there’s this man. MAYOR: He’s not worth it Rudyard. RUDYARD: Yes. What? No I mean, this man is opening a new funeral home directly across the road from mine. MAYOR: Is that a problem? RUDYARD: We can’t have two funeral homes can’t we? MAYOR: Can’t we, why not RUDYARD: Well it’d be ridiculous! MAYOR: I don’t was to look ridiculous! RUDYARD: Exactly! If we have two funeral homes, why not two fire stations, two hospitals, two mayors! MAYOR: Two mayors!?! Could it really get that far? RUDYARD: I would hate to speculate MAYOR: Help me up, would you? Yes, I think we should stab this in the bud immediately. Thank you Rudyard. RUDYARD: Thank you your worship! MAYOR: Gets me out the office anyway RUDYARD: Well from under the desk. MAYOR: We won't talk about that. Margery, cancel my appointments for today SECRETARY: There aren’t any MAYOR: Thank you! Off we go, Rudyard [narration] Upon arriving at Chapman’s, Rudyard and the - until recently Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond discovered that the place was about ready to be opened! And it wasn’t yet even midday! Rudyard braced himself for a sinister journey into the unknown MAYOR: Wasn’t this place an antique shop a few hours ago? RUDYARD: I don’t understand how he has managed to do all this?! MAYOR: Bit flash isn’t it, all these happy colours, not a patch on your set up, look not a speck of dust anywhere! RUDYARD: I mean, he arrived this morning! MAYOR: It must be said though, these sofas are really comfy! Is that a coffee machine? RUDYARD: Yes? MAYOR: Does your place have one of those? RUDYARD: We bought a kettle only half an hour ago CHAPMAN: Hi, sorry to keep you waiting as you can imagine, it’s all go here! RUDYARD: Is that a lift?! CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Eric Chapman, there are some chocolate truffles in the bowl there, help yourself. Would you like the tour, I’d love to show you around, it’s still not quite finished MAYOR: Perhaps another time, Mr Chapman RUDYARD: You’ve got a lift?! MAYOR: Umm, I don’t know quite how to say this but CHAPMAN: How to say what, Mr Mayor? MAYOR: Well, it’s very naughty of you to have done this, is it? CHAPMAN: Is it? MAYOR: Oh without permission I mean CHAPMAN: But you gave me permission MAYOR: Did I? CHAPMAN: I mean before I came here, I was calling back and forth with your people and everything got sorted and err where are we, here we are, look, here’s your signature MAYOR: Yes, the smiley face in the ‘O’ well, it’s definitely mine! You must understand, I don't always read everything I’m given, I am usually kept very busy CHAPMAN: I’m sure, don’t worry about it MAYOR: What do you think? Rudyard? RUDYARD: That’s a really nice lift?!! CHAPMAN: Oh thanks Rudyard MAYOR: Yes, well, even with all this I mean, I am the mayor aren’t I and I have the perfect right to change my mind. CHAPMAN: Oh do you not want me here? MAYOR: No no no no! Not that but you see it’s just that well err, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Sorry? Yes er, Now Look Here CHAPMAN: Yes? RUDYARD: We’ve already got a funeral home MAYOR: Exactly! We’ve already got one and will the best will in the world we can’t have two funeral homes, can we? CHAPMAN: Why? MAYOR: Because, well, then you see, we’d need apparently have to have two hospitals you see? CHAPMAN: That’s a great idea MAYOR: Is it? Oh well good, I’d get onto that! BUT No, nevertheless the village just can’t sustain two funeral homes can it? CHAPMAN: You could be right there MAYOR: Could I? RUDYARD: Told you so CHAPMAN: But you know what could sustain two funeral homes? MAYOR: No? CHAPMAN: A town! MAYOR: A town? You say? RUDYARD: Hmm No! No- CHAPMAN: Now don’t get me wrong, this is a great village but I think it’s going to be an even greater town! And I want to help you do that in the only way I can: with a funeral home. MAYOR: Can I ask you a question? CHAPMAN: Go for it MAYOR: If we had two funeral homes would we need two mayors as well? CHAPMAN: No. That’s ridiculous MAYOR: Oh, excellent in that case I hereby pronounce this funeral home: open! RUDYARD: What? What are they doing there?! CHAPMAN: We’re taking advance orders, it’s just a service we provide. MAYOR: Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Oh please, Mr Mayor, It’s Eric MAYOR: Best of luck Eric, if you are ever at a loose end, do pop by the hall, sometimes we have movie nights! CHAPMAN: I’ll remember that and if you ever need our services it’s on the house. MAYOR: Tremendous, looking forward to it, now RUDYARD: Now, now hang on, we- MAYOR: Glad to have you here CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor MAYOR: No no no, call me Desmond! Ttfn CHAPMAN: Talk to you later, Desmond MAYOR: Should I leave the doors open? CHAPMAN: Oh, if you would, Rudyard I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, can I get you anything. Oh I know what, make yourself a cup of coffee, I’ll better see to that queue eh? Enjoy yourself! Don’t forget the truffles! Good morning ladies and gentlemen, well afternoon now. Well, I’m delighted to say welcome to Chapman’s and remember: We put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: Chapman! [narration] After a coffee, and a couple of truffles, Rudyard stormed out, seething with resentment. He kicked a small dog and got bitten by its owner. Having gotten back to Funn Funerals, Rudyard sat down on a chair by the window and stared out across the road muttering out loud to his only real friend in the world RUDYARD: (muttering) It’s only a funeral home who the hell do they think they are eh? (squeaks) RUDYARD: Exactly, I give him a week, alright maybe two.. Ah he might have gold blend and lounge music but you can’t put a glass on the mechanics. We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time, That’s what it's about, I bet his corpses don't smell of cinnamon. Yeah, we’ll see who runs this village. ANTIGONE: Rudyard you’re talking to that mouse again aren’t you? RUDYARD: Her name is Madeleine ANTIGONE: It’s not normal! RUDYARD: Antigone, you spend twenty-three hours a day in the mortuary don’t try to tell me what’s normal. Off you go Madeleine, we’ll continue this later ANTIGONE: You haven’t moved all afternoon! RUDYARD: I don’t need to move, I’m plotting ANTIGONE: Where’s Georgie? RUDYARD: Day off, no work, plotting. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the first time in our lives we actually have competition which means we could really do with having some friends so could you get out there and make some? RUDYARD: I’ll do it tomorrow ANTIGONE: Have you at least gone round to check on Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Who? ANTIGONE: Mr Ascii, the man we’ve been waiting to die for six weeks, because so help me I need to embalm somebody and it could quite easily be you RUDYARD: Look Mr Ascii’s immortal, he’ll never die so what’s the point about it. Now Look Here, Georgie? What? Right, I’ll see you there. Mr Ascii’s dead. ANTIGONE: Is he? RUDYARD: Yes. OH MY GOD MR ASCII’S DEAD! ANTIGONE: How?! RUDYARD: Heart attack, half an hour ago it’s all around the village, Antigone, I’m so happy! ANTIGONE: Took him long enough RUDYARD: Ahh He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead! ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Stop being happy and get over there now! RUDYARD: Sorry, yes, get over there, I’m gone. Rudyard is back in the game! … Rudyard is going to get wet! Have the mortuary ready! ANTIGONE: And Rudyard, don’t cock it up. [narration] Before you judge Rudyard too harshly at his delight at an old man’s demise, I should tell you that Mr Ascii was Rudyard’s old PE teacher at school so his delight is almost entirely justified. Rudyard met Georgie at Mr Ascii’s bijuu residence at five forty-five. GEORGIE: Okay, okay  RUDYARD: Georgie GEORIGIE: Sir? RUDYARD: Say it again for me won’t you, say it again GEORGIE: Alright, Mr Ascii’s dead but listen I’ve got- RUDYARD: Yeessssss, Get in there my son… whatever that means GEORGIE: Yeah I ought to say- RUDYARD: I’ve been looking forward to putting him in the ground, can’t mock me for losing the 200 metre dash now can you, Mr Ascii! GEORGIE: Before you get excited RUDYARD: Right yes, got to straighten up, think grave. How do I look? GEORGIE: Miserable RUDYARD: Great, let’s go GEORGIE: But sir, NURSE: Could we please have some quiet out here, oh it’s you, Mister Funn RUDYARD: Good afternoon nurse, Could please take this opportunity to convey my most prevermed(???) condolences NURSE: Thank you Mister Funn RUDYARD: I’m sure my apprentice Ms Crusoe, has already carried out our preliminary duties so I think in the interest of efficiency we should let the dog see the rabbit, if you’ll take me through NURSE: Well, This is actually rather embarrassing RUDYARD: Oh please don’t say it’s a false alarm! NURSE: In a sense,,, yes RUDYARD: Oh for, Georgie you said he was dead GEORGIE: He is dead RUDYARD: But, ugh, Nurse, one of us in this corridor is deeply confused and I’m beginning to believe it might be you NURSE: No? RUDYARD: I knew it, she’s mad, grab her Georgie. NURSE: I’m not mad! RUDYARD: That’s what a mad person would say, Georgie GEORGIE: Let’s do this CHAPMAN: Rudyard! Great to see you RUDYARD: Chapman! CHAPMAN: Busy afternoon, eh, hello Georgie GEORGIE: Hey, Eric RUDYARD: Stop flirting. Nurse, I demand this man be told to vacate this bijuu residence immediately CHAPMAN: Look, this is my bad, and I’ve really got to apologise for this one NURSE: Mr Ascii requested it! RUDYARD: He what? NURSE: With his final words he said he couldn’t bare to get buried by such a feeble little weed as Rudyard Funn CHAPMAN: Interesting man, he wanted to see my gold medals from the 200 metre dash, gotta say I wasn’t expecting business to kick off so quickly NURSE: You’re doing a most proper job Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Thank you nurse, I think we’ll collect him first thing tomorrow. Anyway must run, good to see you Rudyard, Georgie. Enjoy yourselves! Ahh NURSE: What a charming man, I hear he’s still a bachelor RUDYARD: So am I.. NURSE: Yes well, hardly surprising is it? GEORGIE: Ahh well, can’t win em all eh sir? Sir, are you alright? RUDYARD: I am so… SIX O CLOCK GEORGIE: Six o clock? RUDYARD: Six o clock! The cemetery, Stanley’s widow, Stanley Carmichael’s widow in the cemetery at six o clock! GEORGIE: Oh yeah! I forgot about that! RUDYARD: What time is it? GEORGIE: About five to six but you’ll never get there. Sir?! Oh for god’s sake, Rudyard! Come back here you stupid. [narration] Rudyard raced down the cliff, past the trees and through the streets with speed that would have finally impressed Mr Ascii, had he not already been dead. His lungs aching for breath, his limbs trembling with the effort, Rudyard tumbled into the cemetery at exactly one minute past six. To discover… RUDYARD: It’s…. It’s all REV: Ahh, there you are Rudyard! RUDYARD: Reverend? What’s going on? REV: Well, I arrived to oversee the preliminaries on Mrs Carmichael’s err, transferal to a better world - if such a place exists - which i'm not certain about one way or the other, and I found that her family and friends had been gathered together already for the funeral. RUDYARD: For the funeral? REV: Since the deceased was already here, and sensibly dressed, he just got it done out of the way, young fella named Eric, got his own funeral practise I understand. I’m hearing marvelous things about it. He’s got a coffee machine! Led them all a couple of sing songs actually, even had my speech prepared for me! Very succinct it was, breezed through it all in no time. RUDYARD: Chapman… REV: Oh he also found a lake! Over there! I think we’re all going boating in a minute. He owns a boat you know RUDYARD: Chapman! REV: Anyway, I better get to be going back to it, we’re having jelly and ice cream, bags of fun. Goodbye, Rudyard! Or should I say: Enjoy yourself! RUDYARD: I see. I see. Well CHAPMAN: Hello Rudyard. RUDYARD: Oh. It’s. you. Did a fair job I hear, congratulations, don’t think it will always be like this they won’t hand it to you on a plate you know, they won’t do that. This is very much the exception. Oh what? What? You can talk can’t you? Say something? CHAPMAN: Rudyard. Have a nice evening. RUDYARD: What do you- What do you mean: have a nice evening? What do you mean by that remark, Chapman? What if I don’t want to have a nice evening? Eh? What if I Don’t? Chapman! What did you mean! Chapman! Chapman?! [narration] Today had been the worst day of Rudyard’s life, until tomorrow came along and topped it. I was there to jot it all down from first hand observation (and a little bit of gossip I picked up later) and of course, being his only real friend in the world, Rudyard tells me everything. My name is Madeleine - I’m going to be the first mouse to be a Sunday Times Best Seller, and I know for a fact that Rudyard want to revenge himself on Eric by well, we’ll burn that bridge when be come to it 

[whitmanpumpkin]

falling for bill hader during your snl days would include...

look, it started as this simple little thing about you and bill meeting during his snl days, and then it turned into this and i just...uhm. yeah. it’s not simple and short anymore. enjoy! (and i feel like it goes without being said, but he’s not married in this.)

your lengthy relationship with bill would start somewhere on snl. you were originally an assistant for lorne, which translated to fielding calls for him and ironing out an insanely busy schedule that made you anxious just to look at. oh, and he put you in charge of getting everything set up for wednesday night snl table reads.

the table read, a very “casual” affair made up of comedians and writers in hoodies and jeans, was never meant to be a big hoopla. somehow, though, that’s what it always turned into. before you knew it, there were seventy-plus people packed into this small room on the 17th floor on 30 rock and crowding around a table as the sketch reading for the first episode of season 31 began. with lorne sat next to the week’s host (would you believe – steve carrell), the reading commenced.

you were too busy fretting over making sure everyone was seated and engaged that you missed bill’s introduction. it was a quick “meet our new features,” and a glance over to him and andy sandberg. by the time you glanced over to them? everyone had moved on and were on to the next bit of business; seth myers was halfway into the first page of one of the possible cold open sketches.

it’s after the table read that seth introduces you. he could see how busy you were with making sure lorne had everything running smoothly, but seth was a nice enough guy to know that your week would go smoother if you had a clue who these guys were. so, you shake hands with andy and bill and smile at them before you’re running to catch up with lorne – who’s already halfway down the hall with steve carrell.

over the following months, you would catch glimpses of bill at various rehearsals and table reads, but never really had the time to think about him for more than a fleeting moment. snl was only one of the many things you had to keep an eye on while working for lorne.

okay, it was a really important one to you, the one you kept an eye on the most, but it was just another knot in the rope you had to pull on a daily basis. lorne demands excellence. you knew that from the moment you got the job as his assistant. it was the reason you had applied; if you started as an assistant to lorne, maybe there was a way to get into the dream job of an snl writer someday? and maybe there wasn’t, but at least there seemed to be a shot. but that had been close to two years ago, and while lorne was a nice enough boss, he probably had no clue about your aspirations.

so the months passed in a steady flow.

sometime after midnight on a particularly heavy tuesday/wednesday writing night, you’re leaving lorne’s office when you decide to stop in and see how the writers are doing on the 17th floor.

the season finale was this week, and the pressure was on to find the perfect sketches. as you entered seth’s office, you found him with his back on the ground and his legs against the door, holding a pencil in his teeth. bill sat in what was normally’s seth’s chair and listened to his buddy rattle on about some “baby hitler” sketch they could do.

you hand off their usual coffee and sit down in the corner, providing the    comfortable silence you were very much known for on set. bill’s starting to ramble about how the sketch won’t work, and seth’s just humming so bill knows someone is listening. hitting a wall never looked so depressing. but at least you could provide moral support, so you stick around while they work through the rest of the sketch.

and bill makes you laugh. seth does too, but something about bill’s own laugh never fails to send you into a bout of hysterics — especially when you’re exuasted.

it becomes a ritual for you to come in and stick around with them on those nights, and soon enough you were helping them with sketch ideas and jokes.

the first time bill laughs at one of your jokes, you have to fight a racing heart. it’s kind of impossible though, because he’s laughing so hard that he’s slapping his leg and you can’t help but join in — which only makes his worse.

the months pass.

before the end of the season, seth brings up the fact that one of the writers is leaving the show and a position is going to open up. he practically begs you to audition.

so, you do. and it’s a hot june day when you’re standing in front of lorne, more nervous than you’ve ever been. but the moment passes like a blur, and your friends like bill and seth are waiting for you afterwords with praises.

when you get the job as a writer a few days later, you can’t help yourself from crying. you manage to hold it in when lorne comes and tells you himself, but as soon as he leaves you to process the information -- your shaking hands are shooting a text to bill and telling him the good news (as though he didn’t already know from seth).

you two end up getting drinks, and he’s a little drunk as he tells you, “you know you deserve this so much. like you work your ass off.” and then his voice drops to a whisper and you barely hear him when he says “i know you don’t need me to tell you this, but i’m so proud of you, y/n.”

and your heart stops for just a second.

he gives you the goofiest, drunk smile before he turns back to the bartender and makes sure you get another special drink. you’re pretty sure you’re drunk off of something else.

over your first season, you find yourself starting out by writing one (maybe two) sketches a week. and it’s pretty easy to see what they have in common. although kristen is the first to point it out, she’s probably not the only one that knows.

when she poked the hornet’s nest over drinks a few weeks before chirstmas, you‘re quick to backtrack. “no, no.” you hiss at her. “it’s not like that. bill’s just really talented and he can play a lot of characters.” your heart is racing because what if she’s right? what if you do like him like that, and everyone knows now.

kristen rolled her eyes, and you never say anything else on the subject. it doesn’t stop you from writing more sketches and bill being cast as a lead. you get past christmas without any issue. hell, you even get through valentines day and st. patricks day without anymore issues. but then, the jokes start again.

it’s a few weeks away from the easter episode of your first season that you start to panic, because you’re pretty sure bill thinks something is up. so, you do the only rational thing you can — stop using him in sketches. cold turkey.

you’d actually managed to go a couple of weeks without using him in one of your sketches, which had increased to about two or three a week. you thought you were on a pretty good streak, but now easter had come around and seth thought it would be a good idea if the two of your wrote another vincent price holiday special.

when you bring the idea up to bill, he’s not quite sure if it would even work. “a easter special? you really think that could work?” he has that skeptical gleen in his eyes that was common when he pitched his own sketches, but you’d never seen it directed to one of yours. when you try and explain the absurdity of it, he’s still shooing it away. “i don’t know if you want to use me.”

“what are you talking about?” you asked, incrediously. “you’re our vincent price. you have to do it.”

bill hesitated for a second. “i thought you weren’t using me in sketches anymore.” and you swear that you hear a little bit of hurt in his voice, but fred armisen is calling your name before you have the chance to ask him about what he means.

you go on and help seth write the sketch that night, so it’s ready for the wednesday night table read. but bill doesn’t meet your eye when you and seth pitch it, but at least he goes with it and it gets a lot of laughs. lorne approves it and has his new assistant write it out on a note card to use for the lineup.

something’s not right. you can feel this horrid nagging in the pit of your stomach on thursday, which only gets worse when you send bill rewrites and he still won’t meet your eye. you try and talk to him for a few minutes, but he seems to cut off any conversation and you’re too tired of this to try anymore. so, you let him go and don’t know why you’re so close to crying when you shut yourself in to yours and seth’s office.

on friday, you’re starting to get worried.

it’s costume fittings for your sketches, which means you and seth are standing in front of bill in his vincent price costume while he avoids eye contact with you. you could do 24 hours, and even 48 hours without him talking to you. but this was getting to be too much to take, and you couldn’t keep pretending like everything was easy between you two.

when seth asks the costume designer about an addition for fred’s liberache, you pull bill to the side.

“what’s wrong?”

you have to ask. it’s not like you can just keep this charade going.

he tries to wave it away. “nothing. i’m fine.”

but then you’re fighting back because obviously it’s not, and you hate that he won’t talk to you. and he can see the pleading in your eyes. and he really hates himself because bill never wanted you to feel like this. and he just sighs. “it’s stupid.”

“what?”

“it’s really stupid.” he says, like it’s a warning. “i shouldn’t have said that thing about you wanting to use me. i just let my head get the idea that you didn’t like me anymore and didn’t want to put me in your sketches.”

and you’re kind of speechless for a second. you want to say a million different things to him; he looks like he wants to, too. you can only manage to get out, “bill, you know i adore you.”

and you don’t hear how his breath catches in his throat because (of course) seth is calling your name.

the rest of the day passes without another interaction with bill. you see him in the halls on a few occasions and he smiles brightly for you, but it’s not until the end of the night when you catch him waiting for you outside your office. you’d had to stick around and finish up some things with the other writers, so the fact bill waited around sent your heart racing.

leaning against your door, with his hands in his pockets, bill was like a beautiful and tired vision. “you want to go get some coffee downstairs?” he said.

you can’t tell him no.

so, ten minutes later he’s handing you your drink and trying to explain just how much he let his anxety overtake him. you knew it could get bad sometimes, but the thought had never crossed your mind as being the reason he wasn’t talking to you. you listened as he continued on about how much he likes your writing, and how he appreciated that you would keep putting him in your sketches (even though his anxiety wanted to keep him in the background). and “i know everyone jokes about you liking me, and that’s why you write sketches for me, but it wouldn’t matter even if that’s why you did. anyone should be happy to have one of your pieces.”

you feel like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. he just lets his words resonate for a second, and for you to smile back at him, before he’s launching into a story about seth and one of the other writers from earlier this week.

the sketches go off great on saturday, like bill was sure they would, and when you get home somewhere close to 3am after the show, there’s a text waiting for you from bill.

[ See you @ monday’s pitch. You’re going to have another great we eek.]

and he’s right. the last few weeks for the year go off without a hitch. well, without anymore hitches than your used to for snl. as the season closes and the host says goodnight, bill’s the first to give you a big hug while the band plays everyone out. in fact, with his 6’1 stature, he practically lifts you off the ground.

there are the fifteen afterparties and the twenty goodbyes, but you’re finally heading home as you hail a taxi.

“you don’t mind if i share that, do you?” a voice asks from behind. when you turn, bill’s got his hands in his pockets and it’s as though he’s expecting you to tell him no. but how the hell can you do that?

when you two give your addresses and settle in, there’s the obligoutory chat about how you’re going to spend your summers. he was thinking of going back to l.a. you weren’t sure yet — which both of you already knew. but up until this point, bill didn’t follow up with the question, “well — there’s a room open at the place i’m staying in l.a.?”

and that?? well, we’ll leave that for another time.

[livlepretre]

God I wanna pick at your brain so much. Its made me cry so many times that I don't even mind anymore. Okay, so, which is the strongest character you've come across in books/movies/shows? And what was the moment that you fell in love with Elena as a character? Also, which incident made you disappointed in her within the first 4 seasons, if any? Please humor me. You've made me discover my hidden interviewer... ❤

Pick away! And 💙💙💙your tears are watering the fic, thank you, it needs them to grow 

Hmmmm I think I’d have to go with Rand al’Thor from the Wheel of Time book series for the first question (soon to be a tv show if covid ever allows them to finish filming season 1!). Rand’s role in the book series is very much so the “chosen one” storyline, which is terribly fun to read but completely horrific and soul-scouring for him to experience, but what really gets me about his character is the emotional depths that the writer plumbs with him. I tend to gravitate toward stories about depression-- not surprising, I’ve had some serious bouts with it myself over the past 15 years-- and there’s just something about the intimacy of Rand’s emotional portrait as he spirals and burns-- his depression, his trauma and ptsd, the friendships that wither and the ones that turn out to be so profound and deep that they will not abandon him, even at the bitter end, the terrible anxiety and stress and anger and all of those things Rand feels that boil along... really truly awful things happen to Rand, and Rand does really truly awful things himself, but I suppose that what I love the very most, and the reason I’m so often misty-eyed whenever I read about Rand in the later books in the series is that there’s this thread of hope-- sometimes so thin it can be totally overlooked-- that runs through the whole thing. Hope that he will prevail, that he will make it over the finish line. Hope that he can figure out how to be a good man (again?). Hope that he will forgive himself. Rand really embodies the mantra that I told myself so often in my darkest times: when you can’t hold on, hold on-- and I can’t recommend going on that journey with him enough. (also in other news he’s a hero that hits all of my villain kinks so I am    L I V I N G for that)

Had to think about this for a bit with Elena-- because the thing is, there were definitely moments where I liked her a lot in season 1-- honestly I usually can’t be compelled to watch a show or read a book unless the main character is my favorite/I at least like them a lot, since, you know, we have to spend most of our time with them-- I really liked her when she slapped Damon during the Halloween party, I really liked her when she drank at the bar with Bree, I really liked her during the whole “steal the grimoire!” and 50′s dance arc. Like I mentioned above, I tend to be really sympathetic to characters who are depressed, and characters who are grieving, so it’s possible I was really predisposed to empathize with her. I think the moment I LOVED her though was in Let The Right One In, when Damon told her to wait in the car and then Elena completely disobeyed him and snuck into the house and saved Stefan herself. That was the first hint that Elena was willing to take HUGE risks, and that she had this uncanny bravery that bordered on suicidal and also it was a stunning display of her loyalty and her love. So, that entire thing just S E N T me. 

The disappointed question is really hard, because so long as the writing is good, I tend to really enjoy it when characters do bad or uncomfortable things-- things which in real life of course would have me on the war path, but which I tend to revel in when I’m watching. For example, if I were to try to judge Elena not as a tv show character but as a person, then definitely the whole thing with Damon would be a disappointment-- she should have wanted nothing to do with him after the way he used Caroline in season 1, and of course, the fact that he’s unstable to the nth degree-- but it’s a vampire tv show and so I have always understood the Damon/Elena thing as embodying the storyline of being seduced into darkness/metaphorical death, and yes, it’s terrible terrible terrible, but Elena is pretty much defenseless against it as a young orphan girl with no parents to guide her or offer her support, and no friends truly capable of it because they are also still kids (and because honestly a 26 year old aunt unused to laying down the law is not a sufficient substitute no matter how hard she tries). There’s a narrative reason why Elena is an orphan and it’s to make her vulnerable to Damon (and to Stefan, whom I think is pretty much as bad, he just pretends he isn’t for his own piece of mind). So, even when she falls in love with Damon, I’m not disappointed-- it’s the storyline I was watching and expecting because it’s a vampire tv show and that is what I signed up for. (I would say I was disappointed in the tv show for failing to make it as disturbing as it should have been though) 

So I think my only real source of disappointment in Elena is in season 4 onwards when basically she drops Stefan off of her romantic radar as soon as she decides they’re breaking up. This was my biggest problem with TVD in general, and where whatever was holding the increasingly fragile storytelling together really started to fall apart. For years I had chomped at the bit for Delena, but I didn’t want just “Damon and Elena get together and that’s that!” I wanted a reversal of the Stefan/Elena/Damon love triangle wherein Damon and Elena would be together but that tension and longing and understanding with Stefan would still exist and make Delena maybe untenable the way that Stelena had been. The show was really built on the complication of not just having a love triangle with both brothers in love with the unfortunately polyamorous girl, but with the brothers having their own relationship to deal with. The problem with knocking the Stefan/Elena leg off of the triangle is that it just made the Damon/Stefan leg shakier and it made the Damon/Elena leg much more boring than it needed to be. 

I guess I do have disappointment in the writing for Elena from the time she is turned into a vampire onward. When she was human, the writers made a huge effort to think of ways to make her a power broker in the group-- she was always negotiating, tricking, daggering, pulling dangerous stunts like slitting her own throat or stabbing herself or falling backwards off of those bleachers in order to trick her adversaries and win. The best thing about Elena was that she had this cunning mind and a ruthless streak that was shockingly cruel and balanced so well against her loving and kind nature. When she became a vampire, they just started having her use super speed and super strength to solve all of her problems instead of having her outwit her opponents and that was dull as dishwater. 

Also I’ve mentioned this before but I am dreadfully disappointed in her grasp of history (but that could be the school system’s fault, they jump all over the place in history class without any rhyme or reason as far as I can tell). I die a little bit inside whenever I have to hear her describe 1492!Katerina as “the sweet peasant girl.” Like, I’m sorry, Elena, how does a sweet peasant girl in 1492 find the resources and connections to travel all the way to England to cover up her scandalous pregnancy? It seems more likely that Katherine’s father was a land owner of some wealth or connection, and it frankly just embarrasses me so much to think of Elijah hearing her say this. (like, this isn’t having a problem with the idea of Katherine as a peasant, it’s just that she so obviously wasn’t that it just comes across as so painfully absurd and ignorant and also weirdly belittling of the peasants, like, oh, this sweet peasant girl, so innocent! so naive to the ways of the world! give! me! a! break!) 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph, I feel a bit embarrassed but I also don't know who else I could tell this to... I've been feeling more isolated than ever before in my life. Not getting along with my dad, my brother and I don't speak, feeling like my friends only like me when everything is about them all the time, living alone, work just takes advantage of me, etc. I'm currently working really hard to change my life, which includes downsizing my living space and getting rid of 75% of stuff that I own. (ds 1/2)

But in doing this, I can't stop thinking about how much easier that would make committing suicide. I wouldn't leave much mess behind for people to clean up and I could get all my affairs in order first. I just... I don't know. I can't get it off my mind. I've struggled with suicidality on and off for almost a decade now and I'm just so exhausted... I don't see the point in trying anymore. Thank you for listening and I hope you're having a good day otherwise. 💕 (ds 2/2)

Hey Nonny *BIG HUGS*

First of all, I just want to say, I’m not a professional, but I really do think you need talk with one. Please. Because I’m worried for you and they can help you sort through your brain. I know, I don’t practice what I preach, which is why you can only take my words as anecdotes I use to help y’all feel more relatable, and let you know the things I’m doing wrong so that YOU can do them right.

So that said: I know how it feels; I’ve struggled with suicidal thoughts here and there since I was 10, and there was a point in my life after dad died that it got very difficult and hard and everything was crashing around me. I felt stagnant in my job, and my life, and just existing, wondering if it was worth it. And again this past winter it hit me bad when everything piled up (the fraud, the theft, the write-off accident, the slip-and-fall, the insurance issues, the loss of my phone, the annoyance about not feeling respected at my job...) all in a 2 week span, during time off I was looking forward to because I hadn’t had time off since April 2019 (I still consider this the case, since Christmas was a bust), in the middle of the worst bout of seasonal depression I’ve ever had. 

It’s very tough to move on from stressful life events when you have mental health issues; it makes packing away our lives feel as pointless as continuing on after a catastrophic couple weeks.

And I know it’s different for everyone, but Nonny, I promise you, even just talking with my best friends has done wonders. I do need to talk to a therapist, but the ones available to us at my job are all booked up and take people on a minimal basis, so it’s been hard to also be now locked up and looking forward to a summer I can’t really enjoy. I can still go out for walks, but the fun of my walks was walking 10 km to the specialty doughnut shop, and then eating it on the bus ride home, or walking 5 km to the Sunday Market, have a little brunch at the shops there, and walk home. I feel I can’t do that kind of distance now because I need to be close to home so I can run to the bathroom if I need to (on those long walks, I would stop in at a Timmies or something for a break and continue on. My bladder isn’t what it used to be). ANYWAY, this point of me telling this story was because I love summer, and I’m trying my best and making do with the situation. I try to get out and do things I enjoy, just in different ways until All This™ is over.

And let me tell you: It’s worth living. This is why I wait until I’m in a good headspace to answer asks like this, Nonny, because I said that without hesitation. Because it really is. I MAKE things that I’m looking forward to so I can carry on, even during All This™. I bought new games, I’m looking forward to spending my weekend playing them. I’m looking forward to the weekend so I can go spend it outdoors. I’m looking forward to getting a home instead of a shit apartment, and possibly getting a cat, so I have someone else’s life I need to ensure is safe – to give myself a purpose. I’m looking forward to eventually see my sister again, and go on holidays with her. That was our summer plan, but obviously it had to be pushed back.

So, Nonny, you need to find out what you’re looking forward to, no matter how big or small: seeing your friends, your favourite artist’s new album, a movie coming out, going to the zoo, Christmas, whatever your fancy. And keep making yourself little things to keep moving on.

Because it’s worth it, Nonny. It really truly is. And this is coming from someone who has a lot of Dark Days and Demons that perpetually keep me in a negative mindspace. But it’s taken me years to realize I need help, and when I’m able, I’m going to.

And finally, Nonny:

741741 Suicide Helpline / Texting Crisis Service

7Cups Online Emotional Support Therapists

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA)

Crisis Services Canada

Suicide SupportLine (UK)

I know there’s a post going around that I thought I reblogged, but these should get you started. I’m sure that if you called any of the National lines, they will most DEFINITELY have your country’s helpline if you’re not from US, Canada, or UK (sorry, a lot of my audience is from either of these three so these were my first picks).

AND, if you think no one would care if you’re gone, I WOULD. WE ALL WOULD. Please, Nonny, I love you, and I care about you and I want you to know that it does get better. <3 Talk with your closest friends and family too. They will help you.