#i probably spent about 80% of the wedding in here

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

What Humboldt hospitality looks like at a wedding 😍🤩💨

[st0rmyskies]

I spent the day sweating my ass off at a smaller hometown theme park, so here's a list of how the boys enjoy their day trip to a fun park.

Twilight - He’ll go on any ride with anyone no matter how fast or scary, nor how slow or mundane. Although the teacups and other rides that spin you a lot tend to make him dizzy, and he's not a big fan of the haunted house. But our big soft-hearted country boy is partial to the antique carousel and needs to go on it just once. Come on, guys, anybody…? (Spoiler: They all go on it with him.)

Wild - It’s a wonder he’s going to survive any of the rides because this boy is all about the food. Funnel cake? Candy floss?? Potato pancakes??? Fudge????? Dippin’ Dots!!????!?!? He has his hands full of treats while they’re waiting in every line, and on any ride he can sneak them on to successfully, too. His favorite ride is the music-coaster-thing, and he’ll sing along at the top of his voice to every damn song.

Champion - Not too thrilled by rides, but he will go on them to be a sport. Except those rides with a sheer drop, tower-of-terror style. NO fucking thanks. Where he really slays, though, are the shooting games, with special bonus points if one of the other boys challenges him to a round. You bet your ass Champion is casually lugging around a stuffed Wolfie half the size of his body for most of the day.

Legend - He’ll get on some of the coasters and the crazier rides, but not all of them. He’s not a big fan of screaming his head off all day long, gives him a headache. He gets uppity with the fortune telling machine giving him the same negative reading over and over again no matter how many quarters he jams in the damn thing. And his fortune ends up coming true, too: he gets banned from the bumper cars after a vulgar road-rage incident.

Hyrule - Goes on one, maybe two coasters, and promptly pukes. He’s then the designated Bag Handler for the rest of the day. Which actually works out well, all up until the mid-afternoon when he wanders off to find himself some coffee and promptly gets lost, necessitating a rather embarrassing announcement over the PA system.

Warriors - He stressed out about his outfit for two weeks beforehand and STILL managed to choose the wrong thing to wear. Yes, those linen pants with the front crease are supposed to be breezy, Wars, but they’re meant for something like a wedding, not a fucking amusement park. He gets cranky when he’s too fucking hot and his hair is damp against the back of his neck. Eventually, one of the other boys — probably Legend or Sky — has to shoo him away from the group for a bit. When they turn up 20 minutes later Wars has an icy drink, a pair of novelty swim trunks from the souvenir shop, a headband for his hair, and a brand new “fuck it, we ball” attitude.

Sky - Loves all the roller coasters, LOVES THEM, and gets sad if he doesn’t get to sit in the front seat on every single one. He wants to go on the biggest, tallest, fastest, most OSHA-violating coaster no less than three times, and he’ll hop off of it just to turn around and get right back in line. Least likely to remember to hydrate and reapply sunscreen. You know he’s passed the fuck out that entire drive home. 

Four - He quite enjoys observing the inner workings of the mechanics that go along with the rides, then makes ominous comments about the engineering to his seat-mate as they’re being hauled up the incline for that first drop of a coaster. He also spends an inordinate amount of time in the air conditioned arcade winning as many tickets as he can to obtain some silly prize like an obscure toy from the 80’s or something similar. May not be tall enough to ride every ride.

Wind - Water rides are his JAM. His hair and clothes and shoes are soaked through well before halfway through their day, and he gets the cutest waves in his hair because of it. Although he also smells like chlorine all day, then. Also has way too much ice cream and cold treats during the day, so he’s nursing a hell of a stomach ache on the drive home.

Time - Bet you thought he wouldn’t be in attendance or would wait in the car or some shit, didn’t you? Time allows the boys to cajole him onto every coaster, every water ride, the carousel, into the haunted house, you name it. He’ll sit in the first row of the rides that take your photo, too, and he just. Deadpans it. Zero facial reaction, no screaming on coasters, ALL day. Flawless commitment to the bit. He does secretly enjoy all of this; Time didn’t get to do this sort of stuff when he was their age, so better late than never.

[lostloveletters]

Sunday Eve (John Brady x OC)

Summary: On a freezing night blanketed with snow, John and Woody know how to keep each other warm.

Note: It’s been in the 80s here, so naturally I wrote a soft, smutty, post-war winter fic for them. I’m sorry if the formatting is weird, I’m posting this on mobile. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Period typical attitudes. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal sex (light breeding kink elements, but I wanted to mention it just in case). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

John privately wondered if his Californian sweetheart regretted moving to Upstate New York for him when he found her sitting next to the radio in their small living room, bundled up in not one, but two of his sweaters, with a quilt from his grandmother on her lap. Woody’s eyebrows furrowed as the newscaster announced more snow overnight. He figured she would be used to it by then. England was no stranger to snow.

But the way she reacted to their first snow day together brought the magic back into it. She threw her arms around him and pulled him back into bed when he told her the schools were closed, which meant he had the day off of work. They spent half the day in bed, the other half dancing around the apartment and drinking whiskey they’d gotten as an engagement present, all hopeful attempts to mitigate the heating bill while money was still a little tight.

After two days of scattered snowfall, she appeared baffled that it wasn't coming to an end for the foreseeable future. She knew to expect it. Saw firsthand the rush of people bringing their cars into the shop for snow tires and chains. She got the hang of it quickly. ‘You’d hardly know she was from Los Angeles,’ her boss, an old friend of his father’s, had told John after mass one particularly chilly October morning. ‘San Francisco,’ John reminded him, to which he received a shrug in response.

“Ready to head to bed?” John asked. “We’re meeting my mom for lunch after mass tomorrow morning.”

His family adored Woody, especially when she shared her intent to convert to Catholicism. He didn’t know how to feel when she confided later on she was doing it for him, rather than out of spiritual conviction, which he suspected, anyway. He never wanted her to feel as though he were forcing her to do anything. ‘It’ll make things easier for us,’ she assured him.

The part that bothered him just as much was that it did. His family suddenly weren’t making as much of a fuss about them living together. Probably assumed they wouldn’t push their beds together or keep condoms in the nightstand. The monsignor promised them a wedding mass in the spring, the most coveted time of year to celebrate the sacrament of holy matrimony—provided she completed catechism by then. She was on track to, so long as she kept showing up to mass.

“Will the roads even be cleared?” she asked.

He smiled. “We’re used to it here, sweetheart. You’d be surprised.”

She turned off the radio, getting up from the armchair and throwing the quilt over the back of it. He reached for her hand, taking it in his and pressing a kiss to her calloused palm.

Their bedroom was chilly when they slipped beneath the covers together after rushing through their respective nighttime routines, brushing teeth and changing into pajamas. In Woody’s case, taking off one of his two sweaters she’d requisitioned for herself, not having much of a winter wardrobe of her own.

Compared to the Stalags and freezing night marches, though, their drafty old apartment felt like heaven with the radiator buzzing and Woody in his arms. John dreamed about such a moment so many times, he needed to remind himself it was real. Pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, her hair soft and smooth against his lips. She trembled against him, breathing out a soft sigh.

“Sweetheart?”

“Keep me warm,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. “Please, Johnny?”

“We have to get up to go to mass tomorrow,” he gently reminded her.

Woody wanted him morning and night, and in between too, if he could manage it. Far from a complaint, but he was certain he was the only man in the world with such a dilemma as making sure to wake up early enough to sate his love’s desire before getting along with the day. When the topic came up among his coworkers or old college buddies, they grumbled with foreign tales of fiances and wives who feigned headaches or went to sleep early.

As soon as she shifted, better positioning herself to give him a kiss, he gave in. With little more than a glance his way or brush of their lips, she could silently transform her desires into his own, making him ache for it, too.

“Turn on a lamp,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I wanna see you, honey.”

And who was he to deny her? Nighttime could be formidable, but far less so with Woody around, ready to take on whatever haunted him with the determination that earned her the admiration of so many at Thorpe Abbotts. Didn’t care if it meant forgoing sleep or engaging in odd rituals when he needed a hand to reach out and bring him back from the depths. She dove in without hesitation.

So, within seconds of her request, the amber glow of his bedside lamp washed over them. She smiled, fondness and adoration in the gold-tinged forest of her eyes as she caressed his cheek, drawing him in for another heated kiss as he moved on top of her, straddling her hips, plusher and wider since they arrived stateside and received regular helpings of family cooking. Made it hard for him to keep his hands off of her even outside of their bedroom.

He reached down, slipping his hand down the waistband of her pajama pants and between her thighs—warm and wet, he easily slid two fingers inside her. He knew it wasn’t a sin. Not anymore. Not with her. It couldn’t be.

She moaned against his mouth when he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Rocked her hips for more friction.

“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly, grabbing for his cock, tugging his pants down and croaking out a desperate, “please.”

He buried his length inside her, swallowing the groan that caught in his throat when he felt her pussy squeeze around his cock. Found a steady pace as she pulled him closer, pressing his body against hers, like she was trying to make him part of her.

She cried out for more as her eyelids fluttered shut. “John—oh my god—harder.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, echoing her earlier sentiments, “I wanna see you, sweetheart.”

She opened her eyes, bright and wild in a way that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. His fingers played with her clit, could feel how close she was. He thrust harder, rougher as her moans filled his ears, her voice hoarse as she came loudly, her pussy pulsing around his cock.

His hips shuddered. His brain felt fuzzy, almost lost himself before asking, “Where should I—“

“On my stomach.” She hastily bunched up her sweater just below her breasts, exposing it to him.

His blunt nails scratched gently against her bare stomach, soft and inviting. Tried not to think about it round and full with child, his child, one day when she wasn't so afraid. He recognized the uncertainty that flashed in her eyes whenever someone brought it up. ‘Not until you’re ready,’ he had promised with all the understanding he could manage despite the animal part of him trying to claw its way through. She’d look so pretty, so perfect. She’d be his wife soon, after all.

But it’d be worth the wait. She waited two years for him and didn’t waver. He’d do the same for her the world over. They belonged to each other.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out just before he came, his seed spilling onto her stomach as his orgasm rocked through him. Buried his face in the crook of her neck, her skin warm with a sheen of sweat. Made his mind hazy with the feel, the smell of her intertwining with pleasure until he was spent.

With a shaky breath and equally shaky hand, he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe his cum off of her stomach. Didn’t need to look at her face to know she was eyeing him like a bird of prey. He threw the soiled fabric aside and pulled down her sweater to cover her again.

She grabbed him by the collar before he could move back to his side of the bed, pressing soft kisses to his neck, the prelude to gentle bites on his collarbones and then lower, and even lower. He took a deep breath, mustering up all of the resolve he could to pull away from her.

“We have to get up early tomorrow,” he said, as sternly as he could manage.

A small pout made its way onto her lips before she relented with a slight smile. “Alright, honey.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

He turned off the bedside lamp. “I love you too.”

Heat radiated off of her as she curled up against him. He stroked her hair, tongue between his teeth as he tried to fight off the urge to indulge her—and himself. She always took a while to fall asleep, even when he was convinced he tired her out.

Slowly, his hand drifted lower until he found the thick, cuffed hem of her sweater and slid his hand up it, playing with her breasts, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers.

A pleased hum came from her throat before she gently taunted him. “You just said—“

“You’ll make me extra coffee in the morning to make up for it.”

Her laughter tore through the darkness as he pulled her on top of him with a wicked grin.

——

John woke up before Woody. He almost always did. She could sleep until nearly noon if he let her, which he did sometimes. Usually, though, around ten in the morning, after already being up for a few hours on his own, he’d find himself missing her and coax her awake.

He rolled out of bed, pulling on his old flannel robe before the frigid morning air could bite him too hard. He nearly winced at the loss of body heat, sparing a longing glance to Woody, still curled up under the covers.

Shuffled over to the bedroom window and pulled back the thick curtain, something he had to put up when they realized how much of a draft it let in otherwise. All he could see outside was white. The whole block was covered in a thick blanket of fresh snow—including the roads. He sighed in relief, something he’d surely have to confess the following week.

John hurried back to Woody’s side, eager to relay the good news to her. “Hey,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “The roads haven’t been cleared yet.”

She smiled, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him back into bed. “Thank god.”

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - fake sexy lamp au

Okay so like the basic premise of this fic is that Klaus finds out about Elena and in order to keep an eye on his doppelgänger, comes to town before Stefan and fake woos her in the guise of a college student. He just doesn't count on her extremely opinionated best friend Caroline butting her nose into everything and messing with all his plans and getting under his skin.

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

It was astonishing what a thousand years could do to a place. The last time he’d seen the village that would become Mystic Falls, it had been a half burned wreck, a testament to the sins of fathers coming to roost on the sons. Now? 

Well, it was no longer on fire, Klaus thought blandly, looking around the town square from where he sat on an out-of-the-way park bench. One could term that an improvement. It was disgustingly picturesque in that true Southern Americana way. 

As he flipped through the file folder he’d had liberated from the Sheriff’s file folder drawers by a convenient deputy, he rubbed at his jaw absently, fingers missing the usually present stubble. Going undercover, at his age. The temptation to burn this town to the ground—again—and take his doppelgänger and go simmered pleasantly in his veins, except for that one pesky loophole: the ceremony had to be completed in the birthplace of the doppelgänger. From all accounts, that was Mystic Falls, VA. So here he was, blending in. 

Was this how the average American youth wore their clothes, so ill-fitting? He hadn’t worn anything that hadn’t been tailored for him in the past several centuries that he hadn’t taken in desperation on the run from Mikael. It seemed rather ridiculous to complain of one’s trousers being too tight when your own father figure was trying to stake you through the heart.

Kol had managed it, both the too tight trousers and the complaining. Probably he should have spent the majority of the 80s daggered instead of doing enough cocaine to keep El Padrino in business, but his little brother’s terrible fashion decisions aside, he didn’t think they had ever stooped so low as to buy off the rack. 

The jeans and t-shirt Klaus wore, along with the thin zip-up hoodie, and converse sneakers were designed to make him appear younger. Those, and the addition of a paint smeared backpack slung over one shoulder, seemed to be performing the desired result: before he’d compelled him, the deputy had asked Klaus if he was taking classes at Whitmore. 

Which brought him back to the contents of the folder: the drowning deaths of Grayson and Miranda Gilbert, and the mysterious rescue of Elena Gilbert. It was clear the car accident was just that, an accident, but what flummoxed the good members of the Mystic Falls Police Department was how his Doppelgänger got out of that vehicle. Indeed, she had no memory of having done so.

Where in town, he mused to himself, would I locate the one person who could rip open a car door with their bare hands?  Closing the folder, he slid it under a second folder, flipped it open to see a paper clipped photo of a square-faced young-looking man with green eyes and light brown hair. An odd little brush of memory hit him as the man laughed, an arm around his shoulders, the sound of jazz in his ears, blood and gin mingling in his throat. Blink, and it was just a photo again. 

A shadow fell across the page. “Nik, I’m bored.”

[naturepointstheway]

My Top 10 Most Kudos'd Fics Ever on AO3 to date of this post

Out of curiosity, I decided to rank all my works on AO3 (posted stuff on there since 2015, starting with Prince of Egypt) by number of kudoses, and here are the top ten, from most to least:

Out of Trouble Again - published 2015- Prince of Egypt - 536 kudoses (nothing else has reached anywhere near that, and probably never will. It's the Jupiter-sized one of them when it comes to kudoses.) Summary: What if Rameses' son had not walked in and interrupted right when Moses and Rameses were talking during the ninth plague in "Prince of Egypt"?

Dynasty Extinguished - published 2015 - Prince of Egypt - 160 kudoses Summary: God never said that only the first-born children will perish in the final plague on Egypt. A slight AU of the events of the tenth plague in the film.

Old Enough to Understand - published 2016 - Tarzan (1999) - 122 kudoses Summary: He is not a baby, but four years old, when he sees his parents killed by Sabor, the leopard. Early the following morning, he watches as a female gorilla wanders inside, bereft only hours ago of her own offspring. When the leopard attacks from the shadows of the roof, the boy and gorilla act together to escape the predator and make it back to where safety awaits in the jungle.

Refusal to Harm - published 2015 - Prince of Egypt - 117 kudoses Summary: No matter how much Hotep and Huy try to persuade him, Rameses will never harm his brother whether that be direct or indirect. Even as Moses brings down plague after plague on Egypt, Rameses will not hurt Moses, the man he had once called brother. (Rated T for mentions of torture, execration (magical cursing), and discussion of execution.)

Wilted Rose, Torn Portrait, Forgotten Name - published 2015 - Beauty and the Beast (1991) - 116 kudoses Summary: Two reminders of the Curse remain after the restoration of the castle and the Prince's human form: the wilted enchanted rose, and the portrait ravaged ten years before by a Beast's claws. The Prince has spent so long as a Beast, he has forgotten his own name, and, with the help of Belle, he remembers it once again.

Wedding Night in Midian - published 2015 - Prince of Egypt - 101 kudoses (why. WHY. I cringe when I read this attempt at "smut" (M rated, so not smut smut) XD HOW. How in the name of...) Summary: The wedding night of Moses and Tzipporah. Strong sexual themes and content. Moses is hesitant at first, but soon allows himself to love Tzipporah as he had never done before.

The Mute and the Maine - published 2022 - Cats the Musical - 99 kudoses (wait...WHAT. How. How. I keep thinking it's in the 30s kudoses wise but here we are, one shy of the triple digits at posting. (Also, is very likely to have another chapter added to it soon-ish because muses be Like That. Also interesting to note that it reached that in two years, where others had to take half a decade at least to boop the triple digit realm for the first time. Compared to my other stuff, this got the freakin' zoomies. Just like a cat!)) Summary (I wanna change it a bit when I post the next chapter for this fic): Troubled by Demeter's words about Mistoffelees, a mute cat mostly outcast by the tribe, Tugger takes it onto himself to have a talk with Misto, and let him know he is not alone. [Originally posted on Tumblr] [Based on Lindsay Chambers' Mistoffelees from the very late '80s/very early '90s in a Zurich production.]

30 Days of Beauty and the Beast: One Line, Different Character - published 2017 - Beauty and the Beast (2017) - 96 kudoses Summary: As the title suggests, thirty one-shots for thirty days where I take a single line from the movie spoken by one character, and give it to someone else, however likely or unlikely. Characters and other tags will be added as each one shot is added day by day. One-shots' lengths vary from tiny drabbles to long ones, and I'll aim to be mostly fluffy/non-angsty. Take note, I said "mostly".

House and Home and Security - published 2021 - Life is Strange 2 - 95 kudoses Summary: Hours after leaving prison behind forever, Sean finds himself at Daniel's new home, a house he can never feel is his, no matter how much Daniel insists it's his home too whenever he needs it. And there is a strange, forgotten feeling both alien and familiar, one he has nearly forgotten over the last fifteen years he had spent in a prison cell. And how is it that Daniel is already so grown up, a young man of twenty-five years?

The Pain of Your Absence - published 2021 - Outer Wilds - 82 kudoses Summary: The pain of the travelers' absence is too much at the Eye at the end of the universe.

[alboo]

When I took this pic somewhere in my head was the title of a blog post, "The unwinding of a life."

This portable stereo was purchased in 1980. It was quite expensive then. Much more than what a comparable device would sell for in the 90's that played CD's. (Originally intended to be a blog post it quickly turned into journaling about my life and grief.)

My mother and I would listen to Toby Rowland and the Sooner Broadcast crew on this while we watched the television broadcast with the sound off.

So I have an attachment to this stereo. I know part of it is pride in thrift. I have many items I still use I bought in the 80's. There is more, a desire for the past to still be here. I've always related to Jay Gatsby, the protagonist in The Great Gatsby who says to the narrator, Nick, "Can't repeat the past? Old Sport, why, of course you can.". (The past is a theme of the book and it extends and applies so far back to the topic of wealth in America to the dutch colonists coming to settle New Amsterdam.). While I am Scottish one could interpret this pride in thrift as aspirations to attach myself to The Protestant Work Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.

So my mother died January 1 of this year, 2023. So, of course, I Iistened to the games this year and experienced the Sooner Football season for the first time with no nuclear family.

Spent too much time there tying stereo and my deceased mother to theme of wanting to repeat the past.

So I first thought "The Unwinding of a Life" was about my mother. No, it is about the unwinding of my life. I knew in late 2022, my mother would not make it through 2023. So I found around Christmas and looked through old photographs of my mother, my family, my parents wedding, holidays and birthdays in the modest house I was born in. My baby book was there and a few keepsakes from when a toddler. Obvious this was moving, remember thinking how much they loved me and how nice the life my mother and father, and grandparents had built. The house was modest but it backed up to a very small warehouse, two rental houses, and the hardware store owned by my father and grandfather. Once again hitting on thrift, Protestant Work Ethic...

So I looked at their life as my life because my life never launched it started to up till 1992 or a little before.

By the 2010's I had come up with plans for what I would do once my parents were gone. Volunteer, travel or volunteering that included traveling.

While my mother's health was declining I was also depressed because I needed to be here with her and I had no job or something to do.

Now she is gone and I am just stuck. Haven't done much of anything other than have arm and wrist surgery mother so wanted me to get to have. Once I in Dallas, 2021, and she didn't tell me about being in hospital till after I got home; she wanting me to get hands etc operated on. That was the week before OU -Texas, due to her health I didn't go. The game turned out to be probably the most dramatic come from behind victory in the history of the game. Immediately after we won my Mom was crying. I asked why and she said because I didn't get to go.

(This seems horribly written, pretty sure I used to be better.)

[slashingdisneypasta]

Randall Boggs x Reader || Drabble

Plot: Randall turns up ready to change, to get better- way too late, and at the worst possible time... 🤵👰 // Alternatively, you tell Randall that you've always, love him- but its not what he wants to hear.

🎵 Talk some sense to me 🎵 - Amber Run

Warnings: Angst, but with a little... something, at the end. Be kind, I've never actually written for Randall before.

Eyes widening, you get up from the couch and whip around, catching sight of the skulker hunched and wringing his hands like he used to, awkwardly by the door. “What are you doing here??”

“I, uh… “Caught off guard with a question he should have had an answer for, turning up like this, Randall mumbles something incoherent to himself, before clearing his throat and raising his voice again. “Would you believe it if I said I came to congratulate you?”

“No,” You exclaim, because- because- well, because you wouldn’t! That’s ridiculous! You break up with him and after 3 years of radio silence he turns up at your wedding to wish you the best? Fat chance!

“I didn’t think so… “He stops fiddling with his hands and holds them behind his back. Then he huffs out a sigh, shaking his head at the ground. “Okay- okay! Look, I didn’t exactly come for cake.”

“Really?” Sarcasm bleeds off your tongue, and he gives you a sharp look for it; But a faint grin flickers across his face too. He shakes it off though and moves, wandering a bit around the room with your eyes glued to him. “Randall- “

“I made a mistake.”

… Oh no.

No.

Not this, not today, your life is not a Mathew McConaughey and Kate Hudson movie!!

But, you don’t say a word just yet. You keep watching him, tight lipped and stony gazed, waiting for him go on; Just hoping that this ‘mistake’ he’s made is, by some hideous miracle, not at all what you think it is.

But… with the setting, and all… the chances are slim. You still have hope, though. Desperate hope.

“Look, I don’t think I really need to get into the specifics of it all, do I? Just come on- pack up your stuff, grab your keys, we gotta go. You said- you said, when you left, that if I changed- we could work again. Well I’m working on it.”

So he’s serious. “Randall- “You start, half pleading as you’re horrified, at all this. You do remember saying that, but it was three years ago! Statute of limitation, please!- “I- … You have to go. Now. This is my wedding, I- This is ridiculous! Go, now. Go home. I can’t do this with you. I won’t.” Moving from the dresser your fiancé helped you lug down here last night, you sweep the room and yank the door open, staring needles into Randall as you urge him to leave.

He squints back at you, in that menacing, stalkerish way that you used to find intriguing and doesn’t move; Not an inch.

“I’m not going anywhere, until you admit there’s still feelings.” He movies, scuttling across the room for what feels like half a second before he’s right in front of you and glaring. A finger prods at your chest with a finger, and you weakly let it move you. “You still have feelings for me.”

Of course, I do, you think immediately, in certainty. You still think about Randall… all the time. Wondering if he’s okay, if he’s moved on. If he’s found someone that fit him better, or if he still spent nights grumbling about you.  

What you had together was the kind of intense intimacy that made you think soulmates are a thing, that never faltered for 4 whole years of college.

Never faltered… but grew darker, instead. Lost its promising sparkle. Which is why you still thought of him, and probably always will even when you’re 80 years old, but never went back.

“It wouldn’t do us any good if I did.” The tone in your voice is strong, unbreakable, but then it softens, and you allow yourself to share a moment with your first love… hoping to god that like everything else you used to share with him that he’ll understand. “You’re too late.”

He doesn’t. “I need to hear it… “His voice grows angrier… almost enough to scare you, right here in the broad daylight moredis than innocent little children in the dead of night. “You need to hear it.”

“I don’t want you anymore.” You exclaim, not-entirely honestly, but sternly enough that Randall backs off a bit- eyes widening and stepping back a smidgeon.

But he regains his control rather quickly, four fists clenching at his sides, one twisted tail warping and two eyes narrowing. “You’re still a disgraceful liar.”

Oh god- your face is getting blotchy. What if you cry? Sniffing, you cross your arms and take a breath in, readying yourself to answer; To deny it like your life depends on it. Until you’re blue in the face and Randall can tell you that he doesn’t believe you all he likes, but he’ll know that no matter how much he says it- the outcome wont change.

But the air runs out and you haven’t said anything. No ‘Doesn’t matter’s or ‘I don’t care’s.

Just you staring at Randall and him staring back at you… and hope blossoming in his chest and, traitorously,- yours too.

But, god, that can’t happen!

Suddenly you’re desperate. He needs to leave- go. Get out of your face and your house and your life again before you ruin it for him. Because that’s how much you loved him back then, which is why you had to leave… and you’d still wreck yourself for him.

But what can you say? What combination of all the letters in the alphabet can possibly string together in a satisfying enough goodbye that’ll convince him to go?

Two of his hands find themselves on your waist and it is such a hilariously, heartbreakingly profound moment that you almost want to laugh… or sob. Probably sob.

He’s so gentle, then. Eyes soft, waiting for something- hoping for something… Fingers holding on for no nefarious reason other than to touch you, not to keep you…

It makes you miss it all.

“Please, just tell me.” God, it feels like forever since you heard him use that word with anyone. Please.  

You release another long breath, shaky as you reach up to, at first hesitantly, touch his face… then remember all those time’s you did it before, and hold him for confidently. If anyone walked in, they would think for sure that the two of you were the ones getting married today, by the looks of you. You know, that with Randall you look… perfect.

But it doesn’t feel perfect anymore, and that’s why you have to do this.

“Randall Boggs… “You start, giving him a small smile, your real feelings shining through your eyes for the first time in years, before going on. “… I will always, love you.”

He just looks… entirely, heartbroken.

Because you’re telling the truth. You’re not lying now. You love him deeply, and you always- always, will. And you know it perfectly well.

But that’s not enough like he needed it to be.

~

A few minutes passed after that, and neither of you said a damn thing. It was one of those moments where you swear… time stopped. Or you hoped, that time would stop. Because right then, in the last few minutes of something important, and you know that when the moment is up its over and you can never… get it back.

You both searches the others faces for a reason not to let this be the end, but you can’t find logic by just looking at a person you love, like they do in fairy tales. God, if this were a fairy tale, you can’t help but think… you would see something that would make running out on your wedding okay, and that would promise you that everything would work out this time with Randall.

You don’t, of course… But wouldn’t it be nice if you did?

You allow yourself to admit that yes. It would be.

Instead of all that, your phone rang on the couch cushions with an alert, telling you that it was time to walk. Randall let go of you and stepped back, shocked that you were actually going to do this- even after all that- but didn’t fight it.

Now you stand at your wedding alter and you must have blacked for most of the ceremony because before you know it everyone is looking at you, and the man in front of you is asking if you’ll take this hand in marriage…

And your mouth opens immediately- Your gaze flittering around the room finds a flash of purple behind the seats-

And no sound comes out.

[justplainwhump]

Ridley Dies AU: Turning Point

The Ridley-Dead-AU, everyone. I shall tag these who commented on it, plus the Dany tag list: @distinctlywhumpthing @whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @ocean-blue-whump @just-horrible-things @whumpymirages 

Ridley, B and Leo belong to the wonderful @hackles-up

[Dany masterpost]

Cw for (obviously) major character death and thoughts about it. Very vaguely implied past noncon. BBU (vaguely mentioned). Whumpee married to (dead) whumper. Blood. Thoughts about killing a loved one.

He's dead.

Ridley Lordin is dead. His body is still warm, his  brown eyes still open, empty, staring into nothing. There's a hole between them, slightly asymmetric, towards his right eyebrow. The hole is ridiculously small. Like his ridiculously small gun. Like he is a ridiculously small man. 

I don't know where my thoughts come from. I feel like I'm stuck here, stuck in the present, stuck in this moment, with the cool metal of the small gun trembling in my hands, and warm blood soaking the carpet under my bare feet.

The hole is bigger at the back of his head, of course.

I feel sick.

Next to his body, his cellphone vibrates once. It must've slid out of his pocket. New message. Leo. 

Ridley Lordin is dead, but Leonardo Luciano is still alive.

My head is spinning. There's only one thing I know. I have to leave the city before he finds out.

I step forward. The carpet is sticky. Mingled in his beloved 80s rock music are the smacking sounds of my steps. 

I take his wrist, pausing as my gaze falls on our hands. His wedding band next to mine, his perfect skin next to the scars crossing the back of my hand. "Fuck you," I whisper, repeat the last words I said to him. Probably the first ones, too.

I almost have to laugh, even though I don't know why. Nothing of this is funny. Still, it feels ridiculous.

I place his thumb on the phone's sensor to unlock it. 

Love you. Looking forward to date night. I'll text you when I leave here. Special project needing a little more attention tonight.

Date night. Tonight. Here.

There's even less time than I hoped. 

Without another glance at my husband, I walk into the office, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. I don't bother. Leo will know everything, anyway.

I know the layout of Ridley's office by heart. I've spent countless hours on his lap, even more crammed under his desk, keeping him warm. I know where he keeps his laptop, his paper files, his special thumb drives. I pack them all, throw them into a large briefcase. 

There's a stack of bills in his safe, less than I hoped, but it'll do for a start. I add it to the pile. I also know his credit card pin. I'll be able to get more.

Ridley's phone vibrates again. A photo. Leo's  special project, in what must be excruciating pain.

My stomach twists, as I reply with a chain of heart emojis, just as Ridley would.

I can't help her. I can't help anyone but myself.

Not even -

My gaze goes to B, sprawled over the couch, barely breathing. He's still unconscious, bleeding on his head, his arms, his chest, from the brutal blows Ridley rained down on him.

For me.

He'd punished him for me, because his wife can't have bruises in public, but his pet can. Because he knows B matters more to me than anything else.

There's a tear running down my face. I don't fight it. It's ironic. I wanted to save B, but instead I destroyed everything for him. B can't live without Ridley. He'll fall apart. He'll tear me apart, for what I did. And then, Leo will torture him to death, for his failure.

If I'm clever, if I'm quick, and with a whole portion of luck, there's a chance at freedom waiting for me, just outside.

B can never be free.

There's only one thing I can do for him.

"I love you, B," I whisper. "Thank you for everything. I... I wish it had ended differently."

I lift the gun and point it at his heart, blink back the tears.

"I'm so sorry."

[Next]

[coffin-flop]

i spent too much time looking up cursed and haunted objects today, here are some of my faves <3 

Robert the Doll

Probably the second most famous haunted doll (Annabelle being the most popular). Allegedly, Robert’s facial expressions change & occasionally giggles. Robert brings bad vibes to the environment, being blamed for car crashes, physical accidents, familial disputes, and more. Even those who visit Robert at his current home (East Martello Museum) claim to experience bad luck & misfortune when they do not respect the doll well enough.

Man Proposes, God Disposes by Edwin Landseer

Owned by the Royal Holloway, University of London. Obviously, it’s gruesome as a painting, it gets grosser when you realize it was inspired by Franklin’s lost expedition. Being in a university’s collection, the rumors surrounding this painting aren’t unlike many university spirits. The claims are that the painting drives students mad, essentially. There are different reports (depending on the source you go to) that state the painting has been blamed for students enacting acts of violence on themselves, not that the school has records to back it up. Now it’s mostly blamed for students failing their exams. It’s now covered during final exams as to not cause any students to fail (or go mad) over a painting.

Dead Man’s Chair

Once a regular oak chair at the Busby Stoop Inn, this chair was allegedly cursed by Thomas Busby just before his execution for the murder of his father-in-law in 1702. There are different reasons for why/how he cursed it, some say he was sitting in the chair before getting arrested, one source claims he asked to stop at the bar for one last drink in his favorite chair before on the way to his execution. Whenever he was in the chair, after finishing his drink, he hoped that all who dared to sit in his chair would die…. And apparently, they do. In WWII, airmen from a nearby base would stop at the pub and it was claimed that those who sat there never returned. It’s also vaguely claimed that the chair was linked to fatal accidents in the 70s, but it was hard to find any examples of these.

The Hope Diamond

Probably the most famous piece of cursed jewelry, mostly because pop culture definitely fell in love with using this one anytime it needs a fancy jewel. It’s now owned by the National Museum of Natural History, but before then caused a hell of a lot of havoc. The claim is that the Hope Diamond is blamed for gruesome deaths of its previous owners. Some were murdered by their partners, some killed in wars, one was killed by a pack of wild dogs, one murdered at the hand of a mob. Looking at this thing though, I personally may blame the curse on excessive wealth rather than the jewel itself.

The Tallman Bunk Bed

Purchased in a thrift shop in the late 80s, the family stored the bed in their basement as they settled into the house. When they removed the bunk bed from the basement and added it to the main part of the house three months later, the family claims they experienced nine full months of haunting. The descriptions of the haunting are pretty typical: a negative effect on the family’s house, apparitions appearing to different family members, visions of fire, doors banging open and closed, ghostly whispering, etc etc. The family is surprisingly quiet about their haunting experience and try to maintain their own family’s anonymity when discussing it publicly, which sort of rules out everybody’s first explanation for any haunting (“they’re just trying to get attention”).

Anna Baker's Wedding Dress

The story behind this dress is that this dress was bought for a young woman (Anna Baker) by her father for her wedding day. Her shitty dad forbade her from marrying the man she fell in love with, as he was a poor laborer. After refusing their marriage, Anna turned down every other suitor her father brought to her, dying unmarried. The wedding dress is said to move and shake within its case, as if dancing, and some claim Anna’s apparition has been seen in the house wearing the dress.

The Dead Mother by Edvard Munch

If this art style looks familiar, it’s painted by Edvard Munch, more popularly known for “The Scream.” And yes, he has another spooky painting. It is of… exactly what it looks like, a child standing in front of their deceased mother. It may be worth noting that Munch’s own mother died of TB when he was just five years old, which could be part of the blame for the strong emotion associated with this piece. Sources claim the sheets of the mother’s bed can be heard rustling, and that the child’s eyes follow onlookers around the room…… Some even claim that the child’s apparition even leaves the painting from time to time.

[joyfullynervouscreator]

First Lines

So I was tagged by a few people in one of these (I remember... @heilith & @cycas? Maybe? But also more) So here are the first lines of my last ten fics - lets see what they say about me xD

Coming back to Ered Luin felt odd, Bofur thought, wearing travelling clothes finer than what he’d once been able to afford for his brother’s wedding and seeing the once-familiar streets anew through eyes that had grown used to Erebor’s splendour. - In Whiskey, Wisdom (Ongoing WIP, currently at 56k, probably around 75-80 when finished, T, Bofur/OFC Slowburn, aka the Roadtrip Romance)

"Escaped your Mistress again, have you, little one?" - A Cat of Nine Lives (424, Sauron and the echoes of Tevildo, G)

The shouts drew Glorfindel closer, a joyous laugh breaking the dawnlit calm of Imladris following the heavy thud of a falling body. - ...View (Part of an ongoing series about Erestor the half-vampiric son of Gwindor in Belerian and Rivendell, Glorestor endgame, 1396 words, T through M for the series)

“You have returned…” - ... Family (Same series as above, 2091, Erestor in Beleriand)

Thráin moved slowly, where once he would have run, would have crossed the flagstones between them with feet given wings by the heart that beat in his chest. - For we are made to endure (HHH21 for bodysnatcher, vignettes of life between Aanulbizar and settling in Ered Luin, Family Feels and complicated relationships, Dworin, so much dwarf culture, 5248 words, T)

The snows were late this year, the holly that had been so carefully transplanted from its first home in Eregion blushing its berries red before the first flake had ever fallen from the sky. - Falling Snow (Glorestor first kiss inspired by @gratuacuunart's TSS21 gift, 1563 words, T)

The land here is warm in a way that reminds him of Valinor, of being bathed in the golden light of Laurëlin on a lazy day spent reciting poetry in the flower meadows. - Tears from a Stone (gift for @misswhalie inspired by her art of a drinking fountain and a statue o Ecthelion, T, 455 words, Glorthelion Feels)

“I’m going on a date,” Bilbo announced, trying not to grimace, “a blind one.” - The scent of coffee in your hair (HHH21 for inkbadger, Bilbo/Nori, Coffeeshop AU, T, 2491 words)

For a moment, Mary simply looked at the small Hobbit, seeming no taller than he had been when Thorin stumbled upon the remains of his parents' farm and brought him back home to stay, yet apparently more than old enough that his rudeness was inexcusable. - Words of Determination (1337 words, T, exploring gender in dwarven culture, gift for @lathalea)

Fili rested against the battlement atop the barbican, sheltered from the brisk wind that whipped the tails and manes of the horses riding away from the great Gates of Erebor. - A Question of courtship, IS21 gift for megmarch, T, Gen, more dwarven culture ;) )

I think I mostly start with a sentence that tells you who/where - or a line of dialogue that sets the tone of the fic. Quite often I seem to begin with a sence of a character moving, which was a surprise and yet not, lol. (Other than that, it will surprise absolutely no one that most of these fics involve my takes on dwarf culture xD)

If anyone else wants to try this little introspection, consider yourself tagged :D

[theunstuffedpepper]

What are your favorite memories from your wedding? What would you change if anything about your wedding? How did B propose? What are your favorite memories from when you dated him? Do you and B celebrate your anniversary?

The wedding

Oh, so many favorite memories! We had our wedding at a bed and breakfast on a farm in rural New Jersey. The night before, it poured rain and the ceremony site next to the stream on the property was SO muddy. B, my dad, and my brother spent the morning of the wedding day cleaning it up and prepping everything and somehow it all came together just in time. We had a DIY wedding altar that they put together that morning. I remember looking out from my room in the b&b watching them work together to make it happen and it was just lovely.

We had absolutely perfect weather that day. I felt so beautiful and SO loved. Like, crazy loved and crazy happy. We had ~80 of our loved ones there and more than anything we wanted it to be a great party, and it REALLY was. People still talk about our wedding as the bar for all other weddings. I wouldn’t change a thing. 😁

As for the anniversary, we do celebrate, but it’s usually something small like a dinner out or cooking dinner at home together. Last year, months into the pandemic and my pregnancy, we learned how to make manicotti and Italian crespelles from scratch and cooked together. Simple but cute. 2022 will be ten years so I’m hoping we can do something bigger for that one.

The proposal

B proposed a few weeks after I had returned from 4 months studying abroad in Peru. I got back mid-December and he planned a trip for us to Niagara Falls, Canada over New Years week, and I thought it was just a trip to reconnect. On New Year’s Eve, there was a concert by the falls, so we spent the day checking out the falls and then enjoyed the concert. Right before the midnight fireworks went off, he got down on one knee and proposed. It was perfect! We spent the rest of the time being deliriously happy and checking out the different sites in town and the many wineries in the area. That trip was probably the start of our mutual love of wine.

This question has made me realize that I need to find the digital versions of my engagement photos! ...and my wedding photos. They’ve gotta be on one of the hard drives around here. I’m gonna find ‘em so I can share more.

Dating

One of my favorite memories is from the day we started dating. We met in high school and started dating in college. There was a period between, during my first year of college when he was still at another school, and I was dating someone else. We had had a falling out. I eventually broke it off with the guy I was dating and called B to try and salvage our friendship. I missed him so much. He didn’t give me any shit, which he totally could have — a testimony to his personality — and instead came to visit and see a concert with me on campus. That night he told me he loved me and he had for a long time and, well, the rest is history.

Thank you for these questions and letting me take a walk down memory lane!

[starkey]

[Spoilers for The Haunting of Bly Manor!]

I know everyone is super loving Bly Manor cause ~80′s gays~!!! but some stuff about it sat really bad for me so I’m gonna try to verbalise it. Obviously if you loved it and aren't vibing with a critical analysis I'm not offended if you don't read lol. Also I’m not trying to say that there’s anything wrong with liking it! I just...didn’t, and I want to think about why, for a sec. (Sorry this got a bit long)

I think part of my problem is that I count Hill House as one of my favourite shows ever and I had ridiculously high hopes for Bly Manor, which probably couldn't ever have been fully realised. And there was actually a lot about it that I liked, especially at the begining. I thought the kids were great, and I loved the core group of Mrs Grose, Owen, Dani and Jamie. I liked the fact that the Henry Wingrave element was expanded upon, and I liked the complexity of Rebecca and Peter, and the room it gave them to be fully realised human beings. I quite enjoyed that they kept to the Hill House ghost mythology - that ghosts are lost in time but fixed in place, and that they jump from memory to memory, and haunt the people that they care about without knowing. But there were lots of things I wasn't so keen on...

Until the last episode my issues were mainly that it felt a bit...lazy? I can't stress it enough but the british accents were really really bad. Old!Jamie’s accent was deeply unbelievable and jarring, as was Henry Wingrave's, and although Peter’s accent was passable (I assume because the actor is English and not American like the others) it still didn’t match his mothers, or his ‘background’ - i.e. it sounded like a private school Edinburgh accent, not a Glasgow kid dragged up through poverty in the scheme - and yes there is a significant difference in those accents. I appreciate there’s a degree of privilege at play here - I’m used to the BBC producing high quality television where these details aren’t messed about with, and the production of Bly Manor was thoroughly American, but to put it in perspective, it would be like... if a character had a deep south dirt-poor Louisiana upbringing and spoke like somebody from a private school in Virginia. Other details also felt off - Rebecca’s costumes all seemed weirdly 2020-adjacent, none of the fashion or ancillary details seemed to match the UK in the 80s (which has a distinct feel), and the house that Peter returned to on his ‘memory bumps’ looked much more like an LA condo than a Scottish council house. Really, they should have just set it in America, because it felt more American than British, and they clearly didn't have any British people involved in the production.

I really didn't enjoy the narrative framing device of 'someone telling a story to a group of people at a party'. It makes sense in the Turn of the Screw, because the narrator is reading from a document written at the time of the events, so the narration becomes a first person one where the degree of detail is logically accounted for. In this take, the story alternated from being one which made sense - us just watching the characters move around normally - to one in which 'Jamie' (who’d apparently had a complete personality transplant that had turned her from a feisty northern lesbian into a coy, mysterious victorian englishwoman with a severe accent problem) adopted a falsely old-fashioned manner and told the wedding guests a ten hour long story about a haunted house.  And somehow neither Flora nor Miles recognised any part of this story in the least, in spite of what must have been overwhelming similarities? It was very jarring.  

I also kept waiting for a twist on a level with Hill House, but never got one. The big twist about Mrs Grose was, I thought, obvious from almost the first episode. I mean the woman didn’t eat or drink anything and spent most of her time confused about where she was, I thought it was fairly clear that she was a ghost. And yeah, I suppose because I’ve read the book I was never in any doubt that Peter was already dead. The ghosts in the background were much less spooky than in Hill House. They stood around in broad daylight while the characters talked and joked and it kind of felt like the ghosts had wandered in by accident and felt too awkward to leave. I really liked how spooky Hill House was - even apart from the jump scares I thought the psychological elements and the open discussion of death and grief was really affecting. I didn’t feel that at all in Bly Manor, and by the time we found out the details of Mrs Grose’s death, I’d already come to terms with it.  But all of this would have been fine, if it hadn’t been for the last episode.

I really really didn’t enjoy the bury your gays ending. And I’m not even usually against this in principle! I think in a dark/horror context, where there’s implied to be an ever-present threat of character death, it’s unreasonable to expect that no characters will die or experience tragedy - and in cases where there’s abundant LGBT rep some of those characters will by necessity not be cis/straight. So I don’t have a problem with gay characters meeting tragic or dark ends, as a general rule, particularly when it serves a narrative purpose and isn’t gratuitous. My problem here was in the manner and necessity of that death.

There were ways in which Dani could have died in this story that I would have felt were narratively meaningful and cathartic, but the manner in which she did die failed to hit those beats for me. This is a story in which two women in the 80's fall in love and are doomed by the world around them (we're already in Meryl Streep 'groundbreaking' territory here, in terms of metaphor). They know death is coming for them, that it will likely destroy them both, that they won't have an opportunity to grow old together, that eventually one day it will catch them and everything will be over - they're on borrowed time, and they spend a lot of that time looking over their shoulders waiting for shit to break bad. In the end, they're destroyed by a force in Dani's body/mind that she can't fight, that she can't win against, and the spectre of which haunts her through the years. Like... the obvious parallel here is mental health, and suicide - they even go out of their way to feature that classic heartsink moment with the overflowing bath. And to me, any story that has a message of 'no matter how strong you are, no matter how much love you have and give, or how beautiful the life you've built is, eventually the dark forces in your mind will Get You and it'll probably be before you make it to middle age' is... really shitty. The other echo that struck me was the HIV/AIDS crisis - obviously wlw were relatively spared from this, in comparison to mlm, but it still carries a cultural legacy of pain and trauma, and I really didn't need this show to grind down on that for me.

And the thing is... in the original story, the governess doesn't even die! Miles does, so maybe there's an argument here that Dani sacrificed herself in exchange for Miles's life in this retelling, but I'm still struck by this element of, like... they added this in! They chose to do this! Only one character dies in the course of this show (with Mrs Grose dying before the show starts) and it's the gay woman?? Why?? What did it show?? Why was it necessary?

Not to mention, the 'epilogue' scene paints Jamie as being very lonely and isolated. I'm not sure why the children didn't recognise ANY elements of this story from their past - even assuming they forgot the ghostly elements of their childhood, they should be able to see the similarities in the characters, but the scene also seems to imply that Jamie really isn't very close to Miles and Flora, and that she doesn't even really get to have a relationship with them as adults, in spite of losing everything to protect them, and not having any family of her own.

Almost everybody else gets a happy ending, but Jamie ends the night of the epilogue standing alone at a table, with the love of her life dead in a cursed lake, doomed to spend eternity watching over a crumbling house, and idk to me? that kind of sucked.

[sastrugie]

john entwistle biography review

ok so first: I didnt really like the biography because I thought it would focus on totally different aspects. John was a musical virtuoso and that hardly ever gets mentioned in the book. But we get exact axccounts on how much money he spent on what day and in which pub he bought which champagne. like wow thanks. The other personal stuff is basic who knowledge you can read in any other Who biography. His autobiographical bits were joy and fun! Maybe the only reason to buy the book in my opinion. He writes totally different than the author...

ANYWAYS: here my fav facts from the book that you probably didnt know before

this is the face of a man who -when his father gave him driving lessons for his 21st birthday as a present- decided driving wasnt really his thing and he spent the money on clothes and parties instead. He never had a drivers license ever and also never desired to have one 

the hospital he was born in, was bombarded and destructed one day after his birth

as a child he was really weak and thin and had basically every disease that existed

his family was poor af

his father left the family early and held contact with his son, but soon disappeared with a new family

his stepdad, Gordon, disliked John alot and would ignore him, hated everything John did or said and he let his bad moods out on Johns mother, which caused John to be very silent and observative around the house so that there wouldnt be any trouble

he did everything to please Queenie (his mom) so that there was no fighting, according to Alison

loved drawing and playing but usually alone since he had no friends apart from their dog

he heard a trumpet solo once from a trad jazz band when he was 6 or so and decided he wanted to learn the trumpet

my fav line of the book probably: “despite his own expectations, he passed the exams to go to grammar school” like same

at school he was bullied from the older boys but soon left alone by them because he would fight back with badass comments 

he applied for the school band for the trumpet but the tallest guy in the year was chosen (he was the 2nd tallest)  which made John mad, but he discovered the french horn

soon he found a friend, mickey brown, at last and he gave him the nickname “ent”

he was so terrible in P.E that he was dismissed with other pupils to play somehwere else, they were called “the hockey misfits” and guess who was among them: Pete Townshend.

yeah as you might know they became besties because they loved music and black humour.

he found himself a gf (alison) and Pete & a school gang (like 4 ppl) and his life seemed to finally get where it should.

his worst subjects were geography and german like wow (im a german geography student lmao)

once they played in a pub and johns stepdad was there and was super angry and gave john a list with his fav pubs and told him “these are the places I never want to hear your fucking music playing”.

after walking home pete decided to switch the guitar and john wanted to become a musician more than ever

Roger found him and John kind of convinced him (it took months apparently) to get Pete into the band and then it all started

he judged the beatles because John Lennons harmonica was “out of tune” in love me do, wow ok you nerd

john started smoking with 20 and was the last one to quit his job for the band and he was against drugs at first (bc he had a “civilized” job) but then decided to give a shit, dyed his hair black, bought cigarettes, smoked dope with pete and did speed too

he wanted to step out of himself and feel good about himself and he was always a fashionnerd so he started buying and trading and selling clothes (he once was dismissed from school bc he wore the school uniform incorrectly)

with 18 or so he was still living at home, had a toy soldier collection and a pet budgie

pete and his college friends made fun of john bc he wasnt a student and still lived at home, although john could have gone to college too and he wanted to, but his stepdad again said no and he had no choice.

he was very awkward and introverted but could open up with his music 

he was really into pop art (esp pop art clothes)

was a pseudo mod bc he only liked the fancy clothes and motown music

with the who he found a purpose in his life and finally could be different than ordinary ppl

hated when people touched his hair, he literally hated it

would fuss much about his hair in general

once after a concert they were starving and the room service was alreday home so they had to look on used plates and food wagons and John found a shrimp and said: “who wants to dine with me tonight?” (idk that really made me laugh)

keith moon was john entwistles soulmate and they were the cutest, most iconic and funniest duo ever end of discussion

his amps would soon be called little manhatten bc he had so many bc he wanted to be loud

he actually went to sing at church once when he was like 24 and the band made fun of him then he stopped

in the late 60s he bought a house with alison in a normal neighbourhood and went walking the dogs on sundays and stuff

but he was a party animal and always the last to go

he was really sensitive and cried often according to Alison but only in front of certain people

he would totally step out of his way to please people

when they played at the monterey pop festival they didnt bring their own amps along and john was furious bc he said the american amps are shit and kit was like “no” and john didnt talk to him for the whole festival until their perfomance was over and they had sounded like shit to tell kit “I TOLD YOU SO” thats how extra he was

when he got money he would spend it bc he was so used to being poor that he thought it wouldnt last long and he had to enjoy it NOW

he was always calm and everyone respected him and kit told a story where he entered the room and roger was at keiths throat and and pete was screaming something and john was sitting in the corner cleaning his nails. thats who energy

liked to dance at parties

his fav drink was rémy cognac with 40% and he would drink like 1 bottle alone everyday in his later years...wow dude

he was also gentlemanTM and once paid taxis for girls from london to brighton after a party

once at a wedding the free drinks were out and John just gave the barkeeper his creditcard and said he will pay for all the drinks of the night for everyone (it wasnt his wedding)

Roger once said: “John made smartass comments that deserved a punch in the face” sounds like him yes

he didnt really care about money and always wanted to pay and never told anyone how much things had cost and brought gifts for everyone

soon that ended in a shopping addiction tho and he bought ridiculous things for ridiculous amounts of money

when the who was inactive he sank into depression :(

held the band together during who by numbers & who are you

wrote and played all the quadrophenia horn parts himself

never lost his passion for art and always drawed alot, said Alison

cried when Christopher was born aww

once he saw their manager in an art museum and how he wanted to buy a painting but couldnt afford it, so John bought it secretly and shipped it to said managers home as a gift

We all know John was a huge collector. His most treasured collection was .. wait for it: teapots.

he tried to save Keith from being arrested once and ended up being arrested too lol

wanted to write a scifi concept album but desorted the idea and gave some songs to the who (905) or Pete

was a good cook apparently

When he gave a hug HE was the one who decided when to let go sdfghjk

hated confrontation and would hire other people to tell someone bad news

he spent so much money on dumb shit like wtf

but didnt really care either

probably the master in picking up and seducing girls

he let his stepdad live in the quarwood mansion when he wasnt there but Gordon was still an asshole wtf

the contact to his real dad was really sporadic

when the who ended, it hit him really hard and he didnt know what to do besides partying and buying stuff/hording stuff

was very insecure and selfconscious in the 80s according to Maxene :(

he actually took pete breaking up the who really personal and was sad 24/7

was that kind of guy that said bad stuff about the who but when you said bad stuff he would try to kill you on spot

with cocaine he felt really confident and still like the 60s/70s rockstar he once was but he didnt understand that these times were over and he needed to move on

sometimes went into random pubs with friends and made jam sessions for the guests

he still was generous and loving until he died and tried to play with other bands but it was not the same

he really liked Kenney and hung out with him more than with his wife at some point lmao

was a total giver and people who worked at quarwood would steal money from him but when someone pointed that out he got angry with that person for even suggesting that

was a real softieee (and a huge nerd)

all his friends said that he was shy at first but once you got to know him he would come totally out of himself, was very funny, loved to tell stories, was very very loyal and would try evertyhing to make you laugh aww

all in all a glorious story with a sad ending and he did destroy himself completely, but lets remember that Pete Townshend described old John still as "wonderful, mature and elegant” so lets cling on to that :)

[imaginesforjohnnydepp]

New (Johnny Depp x reader)

for anon, based on the song new by daya. listen to the song here

wc: 899

It was a Saturday night and Johnny was flipping through the old photo album like he always did when he didn’t have anything to do on the weekend. The pictures of the two of you in your first apartment in LA in the ‘80s, your Vegas wedding and honeymoon, photo booth pictures from the Edward Scissorhands premiere, pictures of your college graduation, of you pregnant with you and Johnny’s three kids. Has it really been eight years ago since you got a divorce? Sometimes Johnny wishes he never filmed that movie, which meant that he never would’ve met her, which also meant he never would’ve left you. He really did have it so easy with you.

You supported him in his early music career, and when you started having kids, you cut back your hours at the hospital to stay home with them while he was filming. You kept the house neat and in order and the kids always had their homework done before bed, and the house was always spotless when he came home; sure you could’ve used a nanny or a housekeeper at some point while they were growing up, but since you and Johnny didn’t have housekeepers or nannies, neither would they. You stood by his side for almost three (!!!) decades on red carpets while he was interviewed, always saying how proud you were of him for being nominated for one award or another, and how did he repay you? By leaving you for some Australian Victoria’s Secret model twenty years younger than you and shacking up with her the second you moved out.

Sasha left and took their baby back to Australia after Joelle turned three months old and married some Marvel actor, and now his big house was empty. No kids fighting over the tv, he didn’t have to tell his sons to knock off their fighting, he didn’t have to tell his older daughter to stop texting at the dinner table. And he didn’t have you to kiss in the morning. He missed you, a lot. The two of you managed to stay friends (miraculously after what he put you through) for your kids’ sake, but after Sabrina left for college, you started to see less of each other, but you were always on the same page when it came to your kids.

Right now, his thumb hovered over the green call button next to your name; he took a deep breath and pressed it and waited while it rang. You picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey Johnny!” you practically shouted; the background was noisy and he could hear the clinking of glass and probably silverware on plates. “Y/N, am I calling at a bad time?” The noise seemed to die down a bit and he could hear the shutting of a door. 

“Not at all! I just have a few friends over for a dinner party. My friend Pam is going to be a grandmother next winter so we’re celebrating. What’s up with you?” You seemed to be in a really good mood and he didn’t know if what he was going to say in the next two minutes was going to ruin it. “I just wanted to talk to you.” God, why is this so hard for him? “What’d you wanna talk about?” “I.. I miss you, Y/N. I realized I never apologized for what I did to you, you didn’t deserve that, all. Not after everything you did for me. I want a chance to make it up to you.”

You really didn’t know what to say. You loved Johnny, you’ll always love Johnny, he was your first love, your first… everything. He was the father of your kids, so you’ll always have a connection to him, but did you really want him back? The two of you have been divorced for almost a decade, you were living your own life and you were no longer known as Johnny Depp’s wife. You had new friends in a new city far away from Hollywood. You were finally figuring out who you were after being with Johnny since you were sixteen. “Johnny… I love you, but… I can’t do it.”

“I’m so sorry Johnny, but I can’t do it. Every day for years, I kept going over and over what it was that I did wrong, I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you, or for anyone else. It fucked me up that my husband of twenty nine years, a man who I’ve been with since I was sixteen years old just decided I wasn’t good enough for him.” “Y/N---” “No, Johnny, let me finish please, because I don’t think you understand what you put me through. I spent a year crying over you. I stopped eating, I went nights without sleeping. I’m still going to therapy over it, after almost a decade.” Johnny really didn’t know what to say after that, Sabrina, Jack and Matthew never mentioned any of that to him, and you never gave any indication that you were going through it when you spent time together with the kids. “Johnny, you’re a good man, and you were a good husband, but it’s time for me to move on with my life. I’m so sorry Johnny.” 

After you got hung up the phone, Johnny just slid down the wall, wishing he never left you.

[marvelyningreen]

It Will End in Rain

Part 3 - Cloudburst

(Previous | Next)

[Summary: They were letting Skye stay at the school while she recovered. Another couple days, and she’d be on her way. But leaving was for the best. If she was back on the road, she wouldn’t have time to think about the things Logan and Hank said.

Warnings: mild language, allusions to emotional abuse

Notes: Generally follows XCU canon. ]

It was pretty quiet in this part of the mansion, which was surprising, considering the fact that the place was a boarding school. Maybe the students roomed in another part of the building, and this area was mainly for guests.

Skye seemed to be the only one at the moment, though. Aside from the people who’d come to see her and what she assumed were custodians passing through, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. Like the world’s ritziest bed and breakfast.

Skye wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but, she had to admit, this place wasn’t anything like she’d guessed. She’d envisioned, well… a military school, more or less. Mutants lived here and trained to be heroes, right? She’d expected things to be all regimented and stuff, or at least businesslike and industrial, like it’d been with the -

Nevermind that.

While looking out the window once, she saw those twins walking around the grounds, talking and laughing with a red-haired woman and a tall blond man. Their parents, maybe? Were there whole families here? Definitely different than what Skye expected.

The people weren’t really what she’d expected either. Well, she hadn’t met too many of them, but still. Those twins were pretty thoughtful to stop by before class to bring her a radio and some books. (The Lord of the Rings trilogy, no less. Skye got the feeling that Billy somehow knew she was a fantasy nerd.)

And she was surprised that Professor Xavier was so… personable? Whether he actually cared or not, he at least did a good job of acting like an approachable person, which you wouldn’t really figure from one of the most powerful mutants alive. Still, it was really unnerving to be around somebody who could hear everything she was thinking. Maybe the other people at the school were used to it, but Skye had a hard time relaxing when he was in the room.

And then there was that doctor, Hank.

Back when she was seventeen, when she’d gotten stabbed, her own parents were out of town. It was Michael’s mom (the only person who knew the truth about what’d happened to them) who invited Skye to stay at their house while she recovered. It must be a parent thing, Skye had thought. Skye was the same age as Michael, and she was mothering by proxy or something.

Anyway, she got the same sort of impression from Hank. She’d noticed the wedding ring he wore. He must have kids around her age.

Logan at least sorta made sense. He’d been suspicious of her at first, which was fair, and he was all practical and blunt. Skye didn’t think she would’ve gone back with him if he hadn’t been. But on the other hand, he was the reason she spent most of her time asleep.

If she was asleep, she didn’t have time to think. Logan’s words kept eddying in her mind.

‘They used you.’

He was wrong. She was part of a team. She’d volunteered for it; all of it. You can’t say somebody was used when everything was their choice all along.

‘Didn’t they ever train you?’

No disrespect to Professor Xavier, but his family was old money. Of course they could afford to keep up this mansion and make sure everybody got top tier equipment and training. Not everybody was so lucky. The GLX had to make do with what was available to them. It just so happened that some mutants’ abilities were better suited to combat, and Skye’s weren’t.

‘Yeah, that’s not true.’

How on earth would she know that? Her powers manifested to do one pretty specific thing. Why would she think that the worked any other way? It wasn’t like there was some sort of handbook for this. It wasn’t like she could ask anybody.

Well, maybe if she’d been here she could’ve.

Skye wouldn’t deny that she was curious about the place. Xavier’s school was almost a place of myth, at least to her. If not for the busted ribs, maybe she’d –

No, probably not. This probably wasn’t the kind of place somebody could just wander around on their own, especially not a stranger. And it wasn’t like she could ask somebody to show her around either. Sure, the doctor had offered, but he was just being polite. They were all probably pretty busy with school stuff and X-Men stuff.

She’d have to be content with venturing into the hall at night. It was kinda nice, actually. It had that mysterious sort of feeling you got from walking through an empty school or mall or someplace. Once when she was at the window-seat, Skye saw somebody walking through the garden – the groundskeeper, probably – who waved up at her before continuing on. Other than that, she didn’t see or hear a single other person.

From what she saw of the mansion – and that was just her room and the hallway – it felt sorta cozy. The wood-paneled walls, the plush carpet, the sconce lighting – it all gave an impression of warmth. It felt old, too, which was weird, considering this place had been destroyed and rebuilt in the 80's.

Maybe she’d just read too many books, but it all made her imagination run wild a little. A place like this should have an attic full of strange old treasures, and a big beautiful library, and secret passages, and maybe even stables. But that was just silly to think about.

It wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. They’d been letting her stay while she recovered, and it’d been a week already. Another three or four days, and she’d have to be on her way.

Too bad. Aside from her curiosity, Skye was gonna miss this place for more practical reasons. It’d been so long since she’d slept in an actual bed. Cheap motels hardly counted, and mostly she’d slept in her car, and then on the ground wherever she could find a campsite.

But maybe leaving was for the best. She wouldn’t have time to think about what Logan said – and now, what Hank said, too.

Skye hadn’t been thinking when she reached down for that bag. She’d only meant to help, but apparently that was wrong. It wasn’t the pain in her ribs that almost pushed her over the edge; it was Hank telling her not to help. Right. She should’ve known better.

It was just the same in the GLX.

She was useless when she wasn’t using her powers. She didn’t have any special skills or knowledge that’d be helpful in planning, so she was mostly told she didn’t have to be involved in it. She really didn’t see anyone else much, outside of when she was helping during a mission.

Everybody was grateful for what she did. They told her so all the time – told her how much they needed her and how much they valued her presence in the team.

‘They used you.’

No, they didn’t. She did what she had to for the good of the team. She’d follow orders, do what she was asked to, and protect her teammates. She did everything they asked, even if it meant getting hurt herself. She volunteered for it.

She volunteered for it.

… Oh, God.

Skye flinched at the sudden knock at the door. She stood up, feeling only a slight echo of an ache in her ribs as she did, and went to the door.

It was the doctor again. No bag this time, though.

“Good morning,” he said, his bedside-manner smile fading as he looked at her face. “Are you alright?”

Damn it. Skye forced all of her frantic, horrified feelings into a tight ball in her chest until her poker face was back in place.

“Yeah,” she said. “Do you need something?”

“Well, if you’re feeling up for it, I was wondering if you’d take a walk with me.”

Skye blinked. “Why?”

Wrong answer. She should’ve just said no and he would’ve left her alone.

“First of all, you’ve recovered enough that a little exercise would do you some good,” said Hank. “And secondly, you haven’t seen this place in the daylight yet. I thought I might show you around. What do you say?”

It was still fairly early in the day. Everybody would be busy with class and stuff, wouldn’t they? She wouldn’t have to see or talk to anyone – just pretend to listen to the tour. She could handle that. She could.

“Alright,” said Skye.

Hank’s smile brightened again, and she followed him down the hall.

He led her through the mansion, down stairs, past rooms – all the while mentioning details about each location. Skye nodded absently along, not processing a word he said. Her thoughts were spiraling.

Years. Years.

She’d been with the GLX for years. This Logan guy picked up in minutes what she hadn’t figured out for most of her twenties. How had she never noticed? What was wrong with her?

‘They used you.’

‘I volunteered.’

Stop it. Stop it. Just stop.

“Skye?”

She looked up sharply. Hank was watching her like he expected some sort of answer. To what question, she had no idea.

“I’m… I’m sorry?” she said hesitantly.

They’d stopped walking at some point, and were now in a hallway that Skye couldn’t remember seeing before. It was on the first floor, by the looks of it. Hank’s hand rested on one of the doors.

“There’s something I wanted to talk with you about,” he said. “Would you come in here for a moment?”

“Sure.”

Hank opened the door, and Skye’s heart sank. It lead to some sort of study or office, and inside it waited Logan and Professor Xavier.

Never had Skye been so acutely aware that Professor Xavier was a telepath. She did everything she could to avoid making eye contact, like that’d help somehow. It didn’t matter. He knew. He knew. He knew.

“Please, sit down and join us,” he said.

Skye didn’t think she’d ever felt more on edge in her entire life. She knew she shouldn’t. These people had been nothing but hospitable, right? They probably just wanted to make sure she knew not to go around blabbing any secrets – like she’d ever do that – and then she’d be free to go. Maybe even leave a couple days early. She was mostly okay, after all.

She sat down on the couch the professor had gestured to, wondering if she looked as tense as she felt. Hank sat on a nearby chair, while Logan stayed standing. Too badass to sit, probably. Fair enough.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Schultz?” the professor asked.

“Fine, thank you,” said Skye.

She was lying. She was lying and he knew it. Before she could spiral further, Hank spoke up.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to leave soon, then,” he said. “Is there anywhere in particular you’re planning to go?”

There it was. Well, at least the professor would know she wasn’t lying about what she said next.

“Nowhere in particular,” she said. “Just south before it starts getting colder. You don’t have to worry about me, though. I won’t tell anybody that I was here.”

Hank looked perplexed for a second, sharing a glance with Logan.

“That’s not- I mean, we appreciate that, of course,” said Hank, “But that’s not why I was asking. If you aren’t headed anywhere, I was – that is, we all were – wondering if maybe you’d like to stay here instead.”

And then it was Skye’s turn to look perplexed.

“Why?” she asked, flatly.

The word was out of her mouth before she realized how rude she sounded. Really, though, it was an honest question. Why on earth would they want her of all people to stick around? Hank didn’t seem offended.

“This place has been a home to many people who’ve needed it,” he said.

Like she did. Is that what he meant to say? Skye felt her face flush.

“It’s our understanding that you were not well-treated during your time at the GLA,” said the professor.

Logan scoffed. “Understatement of the century.”

​​ ‘They used you.’

The professor shot him a look, and Logan shrugged and fell silent again. Skye’s jaw tightened.

“They called me Proxy. That was my codename – did you know that?” Defiantly, she looked Professor Xavier in the eyes. “I’m sure you did.”

The barb fell flat, of course. She didn’t even get the satisfaction of shocking him, because he knew exactly what she was going to say. It just made her angrier.

Logan stepped closer, holding up a hand. “Just take it easy, kid.”

“And why should I?” Skye snapped.

Suddenly, she was on her feet again, glowering up at Logan. He was bigger than her. Stronger, too. She didn’t care.

Logan, at least, seemed a little taken aback, but he didn’t back down either.

“Simmer down, alright?” he said. “We just want to help.”

“And what makes you think I need your help?” Skye fired back. “Just because it took you ten minutes to figure out something that I didn’t pick up on for almost ten years? Because I wasted all that time – years of my life – on people I thought were my friends?”

“Skye-” Hank tried to interject, but Skye didn’t let him.

“I mean, how stupid would someone have to be to fall for something like that?” She was speaking far too loudly. She knew it. She couldn’t stop. “And if somebody was that stupid, they’d deserve what happened to them, right? They’d deserve it because they should’ve known better. So I deserve what happened. That’s what you think, isn’t it?”

Skye’s heart was hammering in her chest. She could feel her pulse pounding in her ears as she glared at the others. Why did she say all that? Why couldn’t she just stop talking?

There wasn’t any way back from this. There wasn’t any positive direction this conversation could take from here. There was no way out. There was-

“Skye.”

The professor’s voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Her focus fixed on him – his outstretched hand, his gentle tone.

“The only person who’s said any such thing is you,” he said, moving closer. “No one here believes that. And I don’t think you truly believe it either, do you?”

Did she? Shakily, Skye sat back down, her gaze drifting towards the floor.

“I… I don’t,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t-”

Skye’s throat tightened, choking anything else she might’ve said. She curled in on herself, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed. She felt the professor’s hand caress the back of her head, stroking her hair like he was comforting a child.

It was worse. It felt so much worse now. Had it always been this bad? Had she just never noticed it before someone pointed it out to her?

It was worse, and she wanted to run and she wanted everything to stop. She wanted them to care and she didn’t. She wanted something – anything – to make sense.

She felt so stupid. Shouting at them, throwing a fit, breaking down crying like a little girl – if they weren’t tired of her already, they would be after this.

You know that isn’t true either, she heard the professor’s voice in her mind.

Slowly, the tears subsided. Skye felt someone sit down on the couch beside her, and she looked over to see Hank offering a box of tissues. She mumbled a thank-you as she took a few, wiping at her eyes and blowing her nose.

She glanced up to see Logan still standing close by and looking, well, worried more than anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Logan shook his head, smiling faintly. “Don’t sweat it. I know it’s not me you’re mad at. At least, not mostly.”

She’d misread him that first night, when he and the professor came to talk to her. She thought his reaction was one of disdain, but she was starting to suspect that he was just worried then, too. Only he’d handled it about as well as Skye had handled herself just now.

Was she mad at the GLX? Yes. And no. She was still mad at herself, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. It was hard to know what to feel. She wasn’t really surprised to hear the professor weigh in.

“It’s alright to feel conflicted about all of this, or overwhelmed by it,” he said. “One could hardly be expected to process it all at once.”

“I still don’t understand,” said Skye. “Why do you want me to stay?”

The professor smiled, tilting his had slightly. “Why not?”

Oh, he was a teacher, alright.

“I don’t know how to do anything. I’m not smart. I can’t fight. I have a B.A. in English, I mean…” She shrugged self-consciously. “I really don’t have anything to contribute.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s true at all,” said Hank.

Skye grimaced, nodding in Logan’s direction. “He said it. I let myself get used as a human shield for years, and that’s all.”

“And you know what that tells me?” Hank leveled an earnest gaze at her. “It tells me that you care. You wouldn’t have gone through all of that if you didn’t. And that’s why I’m asking you to stay, because we care about you, too.”

“We’re not gonna ask you to fight our battles for us, kid,” said Logan. “Just stick around here for a while. It’s better than trying to run from the past. Believe me, I know.”

Part of Skye wanted to ask him for his story. But not right then. Maybe it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about, anyway.

“You’re saying I can just… stay,” Skye said slowly. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” said the professor.

“I don’t want to be a freeloader-” Skye protested.

“Then you may earn your keep, if that’s what you’d like,” said the professor, smiling. “There are always places that could use an extra set of hands. The library, perhaps?”

Skye would be lying if she said she didn’t like the idea. A library would be a calm, quiet place to work. She’d spent so much time hanging out in various libraries when she was a kid, and through high school, to the point that they felt more like home than her house did. The professor, of course he must know that. But -

“Well… I mean, I don’t know anything about being a librarian,” she said.

“For now, all you’d need to do is keep things in order. Return books to the shelves, maintain the records of who’s borrowed which items – that sort of thing. The rest can be learned.”

That sort of grunt work would be manageable. Better yet, nobody would expect her to use her abilities there.

“If you’re sure…” she said, eyeing the professor hesitantly, half-certain that he was going to change his mind.

Professor Xavier extended a hand to her. “Welcome aboard, Skye.”

Skye. Not ‘Ms. Schultz.’

It was silly, but hearing the Professor Charles Xavier address her by name made her feel like she belonged, a little.

… And remembering that he could hear everything she was thinking made her wish the floor would just open up and swallow her already.

At least the professor was polite enough not to say anything. He just chuckled a little as he released her hand.

“We’ll see to all the paperwork for getting you on the payroll later,” he said. “And I’m sure Hank would be happy to show you the library itself.”

Hank nodded. “Of course. I could show you right now, if you’d like. Why don’t we take the scenic route? You look like you could use some fresh air.”

He wasn’t wrong. Skye felt the particular kind of exhausted you only feel after having a full breakdown. Some sunlight would feel fantastic, and after that she’d like nothing more than to collapse in a heap and sleep for another five or so hours.

As she followed Hank out, Skye paused, turning back to the professor and Logan.

“Sir?” she said. Her gaze shifted between the two men; she was sorta addressing both of them. “Thank you.”

Logan nodded, and the professor smiled.

“You are most welcome, my dear,” he said.

Hank kept up a considerate silence as Skye followed him back down the hall and through an exterior door, into the gardens. She’d only seen them from the window at night.

In person, they were old fashioned – laid out in winding paths meant for strolling, lined with green hedgerows and a cheerful, colorful array of flowers. There seemed to be alcoves along the way, containing things like little fountains, and maybe a goldfish pond? It was surreal, like something out a story. Skye half expected to wake up at any second.

Hank walked slowly, letting her look around. Nice of him. He was tall enough that Skye would’ve had to move fast to keep up with him at a full stride. It’d sounded like – while all three of them were on board with it – Hank was the one pushing for her to stay at the school.

“Hey, uh… Hank?” Skye said hesitantly. “Thanks for, y’know, for sticking your neck out for me like that.”

“Well, you did say that you’d stay here until you were fully recovered,” said Hank, “And, speaking as a doctor? I’d say you aren’t quite there yet.”

“And when I am? What then?”

Even Skye was a little surprised at how cold and bitter her voice sounded just then. But it was an honest question. If she was able to work through all of… all of this, what would happen to her? Would they just let her stay working in the library? Would they send her away?

Hank paused, turning to look at her with a curious expression.

“May I make a blunt observation?” he asked.

Huh. And here she thought that being blunt was Logan’s job.

“Uh, sure,” said Skye.

“You seem to believe that nobody could care about you unless you did something to earn it, and – simultaneously – that no one will care about you if you aren’t in need,” he said, “Which is a lot of cognitive dissonance to walk around with. You don’t have to earn this, Skye, and no one is going to abandon you when you start to improve. You deserve to be cared about for your own sake, unconditionally.”

Skye frowned. On some level, she knew that had to be true. It was true for everybody else, of course. She wouldn’t dream of telling somebody else they needed to earn the right to kindness or respect. But not for me, though, was the certainty in the back of her mind. That doesn’t apply to me.

Seeming to understand her hesitation, Hank smiled.

“It’s alright if you can’t believe that just yet,” he said. “For now, the rest of us will believe it for you. And if you ever need a reminder, I’ll be happy to tell you that we do care about you, Skye, and you do deserve it.”

It still hurt, though. His kindness hurt. Skye wished it didn’t. Maybe if she stuck around there long enough, that feeling would go away. For now, though, she was just… tired.

“Y’know, the library’s not going anywhere,” Hank said. “If you’d rather stay out here for a while, that’s fine.”

In a weird way, Skye felt like she’d just get stuck again if she went back inside at that moment.

“I could stand to photosynthesize for a bit,” she said, which Hank seemed to find funny.

“I’ve been spending too much time indoors, myself,” he said. “And my only plans for the morning are going over some notes. Would you mind some company?”

Believe that he cared. Believe that he meant it. It was funny – and kinda sad – how fast a person could forget how to act around people. But after all that time alone? Skye could use a friend. And since Hank was offering…

“I wouldn’t mind,” Skye said, finding it hard to make eye contact as she did. “If you don’t mind that I probably won’t talk much.”

“Not a problem,” Hank said gently. “Find a good spot to sit, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Skye stood still for a moment after Hank had gone back inside. It was quiet out on the grounds. The September sun was warm that morning, and some of the trees dotted around the property were just starting to tinge scarlet. Birds sang here and there. On the road outside the gate, she could hear a single car going by.

This couldn’t possibly be real. It was too sudden, too incredible to really be happening – and to her, of all people. Skye wanted to tell someone. She wished there was someone she could talk to, so she could sort out everything that’d happened over the past week. She could call someone, tell them she was here. Her family? … No, not them. Michael, maybe, but she wasn’t sure she had his right phone number anymore.

A trace of loneliness stole back in. Of course. She couldn’t expect everything to get better all at once, right? That’s not how things worked. Didn’t stop her from wishing it was.

She had a feeling Hank would listen, if she asked. She would – when he came back.

Skye settled herself into a nearby lounge chair to wait. The sun felt wonderful, and she was so tired. Not the sort of tired that came from feeling like she needed to escape, but from feeling like she didn’t need to anymore. Skye yawned. She could fall asleep right there if she let herself.

-

Hank made a detour to stop by Skye’s room on his way back outside, to pick up one of the books she’d been reading, just in case. Judging by the placement of the bookmark (an old movie ticket stub) Skye was almost finished with The Return of the King. Out of curiosity, Hank opened the book to see what page she’d stopped on – partway through the chapter called The Steward and the King.

But when he returned to the gardens, he found Skye fast asleep.

Hank had seen many people come and go from the school – students and staff both. Many of them were hurt, or angry, or afraid when they arrived. Every single one of them had been able to heal, and to reclaim something of themselves that they thought was lost. That was Hank’s hope for Skye, too.

Setting the book down beside her, Hank quietly retreated to a nearby chair to focus on his work, and to let her rest.

[chocolate-parfait]

Fluff alphabet - ikevamp headcanons (Theodorus Van Gogh)

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Depends tbh

He takes you out to see an art exposition (which basically is kinda like work for him,,, but he still enjoys it nonetheless)

Spends time with you and Vincent!!! If it's sunny then you're probably going to have a picnic in the garden, enjoying the warm rays of the sun as his brother paints

SOMETIMES!!! IF YOU ASK HIM TO!!!! He'll let you come with him and Arthur to the pub

He'd rather you not come bc it's full of drunkards who just want to hit on pretty women and start a fight

But every once in a while it's nice to enjoy a drink with you and his bestfriend although he'll admit it with flushed cheeks

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He loves your determination and your courage even if they might get you in trouble sometimes

He finds it kinda hot when you stand up for him, for Vincent, for artists' rights and all of the like

He also finds you unbearably cute and he loves all your facial expressions, he finds them entertaining and he loves how easy to read you are

He's used to put on the tough guy facade when he's at work but he's extremely grateful that he can let his guard down whenever he's around you or Vincent lmao

Loves. Your. Smell.

You smell super sweet and???? It makes him go crazy???? He'd cover you up in syrup and eat you as if you were a pancake if he could

It's intoxicating tbh

Probably cuz hes a vampire lol

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

 Whenever you're feeling down he'll take a break from work and stay with you

Cuddle time hell yeah

Holds you as you cry/vent to him

Tones down the teasing A LOT

He tries to be as "kind" as he can although he's still a bit rough sometimes (it's not his fault, he's too used to treating people like dogs)

When you're having a panic attack, he'll be a bit taken aback at first, but then he tries to be as helpful as he can

He gives you some space but at the same time he keeps his big, reassuring hand on your back, tracing soothing circles with his palm as long as the episode lasts

He'll also be hyper aware of your surroundings, searching for anything that could make you feel even worse, and takes you to a secluded place

He's a bit awkward with words when it comes to being kind and to anything that isn't businesses-related, he's more of an action-first-talk-later type of man

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

 He's so busy he doesn't stop to think about it unless someone actually asks him what his plans with you are

He wants to marry you, that's for sure, so that everyone knows you're his and he is yours

When it comes to kids he wants to wait a bit, he's super busy and honestly he' a tad bit insecure, too (who wouldn't be?)

If it happened "by accident" he'd still be happy of course, but I think he spends so much time and energies on his job that handling kids would be too much for him

So he'll wait for things to calm down a little, he wants to be there for the kids after all

If he knows you really want them though, he'll happily comply

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Dominant

He's so used to being with Vincent (which is rather passive) that he tends to be the leading one in relationships

This doesn't mean he doesn't take into account your feelings and always acts on his own though

He often knows what you're thinking about so he'll act accordingly

He LOVES it when you stand your ground though!!! It's hot 👀👀

Play hard to get and he'll get back at you with twice the teasing

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

 Your fights with him aren't really angry screams, throwing things at each other or anything like that

They're pretty calm (on the outside)

Usually they happen because of pent up frustration or because he was hiding something from you, taking all the burden himself

When you finally call him out for it, he'll act as if he doesn't know what you're talking about at first, then he just,,, says some theo style mean stuff and that's when you snap

Your reactions change depending on the topic but they can vary from sulking to stomping away in tears

He sighs to himself and gives you some time and space, then he comes to you and you sort it out one way or the other

So basically your fights are just because he doesn't want to burden you too much

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Of course he's grateful

He's grateful that someone as sweet and caring as you fell for him

He's grateful for all the times you worry for him, even if he thinks he doesn't really deserve it

He's grateful for your happy smiles and kind words

He's grateful you acknowledge his passion, his job and most of all you understand his goal and ideals

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Like I previously said, the fact that he usually tends to keep things for himself tend to bring you two to fight

He hides things from you because he doesn't want to worry you more than necessary and he sure as hell doesn't want to put you in danger (especially when it comes to the Academy)

He also doesn't say all the kind words of appreciation he has for you because he wants to appear tough and he's just a tsundere

On certain occasions though, when he truly feels his heart brimming with warmth and love for you, he'll just tell you how much he loves you, how beautiful you are, and every little thing that passes in his mind

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You helped him see things from a different perspective and to take things slower

You also helped him understand that he doesn't necessarily need to put others first and that he doesn't need to suppress his needs to give space to others

On the other hand he showed you how some ideals are worth fighting for and how seXY A MAN CAN BE-

ahah jk....unless...?

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Since he's pretty possessive it's more common to see him jealous than not. Hell, he'd be even jealous about Vincent if you spent too much time with him.

He doesn't really get flustered when he has to say and show that you are his, why do you think he chooses to call you Hondje even when in public huh?

He glares at whoever tries something on you and if they don't give up, he punches them

If you're in a situation in which he can't immediately intervene he just trusts that you won't choose some random guy over him. After it though, he'd want to spend some time with you (either cuddles or something else wink wonk), to let you know that he loves you and that you are the only one love of his heart.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

If he's in the right mood for it he'd be able to make your knees weak in seconds.

His kisses are usually a bit rough and they sometimes involve some pulling and groping here and there.

You first kiss together was actually more tender than what you'd expect from someone like him. It was your first one together and he wanted you to enjoy the experience as much as possible.

Anyways his kisses make your head spin and he always makes sure to leave you wanting for more because,,,, he's a tease

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

 In a tsunder-y way

You have to read between the lines tbh and at first you didn't even realize it

It just didn't register and then you're like 👁👄👁what

With flushed cheeks and a frown he just "what, you need me to repeat that, Hondje?" Then he turns a switch flip flip and the situation escalates quickly

"I'll repeat it for as many times you need to hear it. You're the only one I need."

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

 He doesn't really think about it, it feels so natural for him to be with you that marriage would only change your civic status. You two are already bound for eternity wedding or not.

That doesn't mean he doesn't want to take the big step though, it's still symbolic (the only symbolic thing he actually cares about lol)

He'd totally surprise you with his proposal. It'd be a bit like Jumin's valentine date.

Important day, he's not there because of work/"I have forgotten", actually not it's just a prank, takes you by surprise bc he actually comes home earlier!!!! And he remembers too!!!, you're delightedly surprised, proposal, happy ending

The wedding is quite small, just your friends (he's not inviting anyone from work bc they'd just end up causing a scene because of nOBle PeoPle blAh BlaH tHe AcAdEmY BlaH bLah TheO YoUr DrEAm iS StuPid Blah BlAH BLAh) although Comte insists on paying for everything and putting some grand gala decorations everywhere

Despite this being your wedding this little shit just won't stop teasing you

The reception is 80% sweets (PANCAKES) and 20% actual food = everyone is dying of diabetes

Dressing code: white

Everyone is dressed in white clothes and the decorations are as candid as clouds

Don't ask me why. His wedding card told me so.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Hondje (top 1 of course)

Mc

My love (when he's feeling particularly soft)

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

 He's less snappy and despite his remarks, you can see the h a p p i n e s s in this man's eyes.

It's quite obvious to everyone that he's in love because he's super overprotective all the time

Also, he doesn't directly express his feelings not because he's shy or anything, but because he believes actions count more than words.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

 He doesn't mind it, although he tries to avoid anything too SCANDALOUS when Vincent's around

He likes holding your hand and slipping an arm around your waist TO MARK THE TERRITORY

He tends to be more pushy with pda when someone's flirting with you, that aside he generally keeps hugs and kisses for when the two of you are alone.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He's a natural persuader and it's pretty amazing how he can twist other people's thoughts and mold them as he pleases

He does this for a living so of course he's good at it

But! it doesn't work with you. You can see through his words and right into his soul, he's powerless when it comes to you

Something that comes in handy though is his quick wit and firmness that grant you stability in moments where you feel at a complete loss. He's the rock you can rely on.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He's a simple person and he likes simple things

He's not really cliché nor goes to great lengths to show you his love for you, he's in the middle

Sometimes though he lets his feelings flow freely without any mean comment nor anything, knowing it's just the two of you.

He knows you're pretty easy to please so even if he takes time off work and/or does a simple little gesture, it means the world to you

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Of course he believes in you!!!

If you ever need them, he'll get in contact with the thousands of connections he has

If you're in a slump he'll give you an encouraging speech and then end it with some teasing remark, loving to see you all fired up for what you love doing

Since you believe so fiercely in him, he doesn't see why he shouldn't return all that support, doubled

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Contrary to Leonardo and Arthur who love a bit more spice in their relationships, seeing how hectic his schedule is, a routine might be more comfortable for him

He enjoys spending his time with you doing calm and relaxing activities like picnics, visiting art galleries or going out for a drink

To him your cute reactions are all the spice he needs

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

More often than not you're pretty easy to read, but sometimes you DO surprise him with your recklessness though

He knows whenever you're feeling down and he'll try to cheer you up with actions more than words (you can't trust him on that front)

Since you have a completely different mindset than his, he might get surprised at the reasons why you're actually upset and if he finds it pretty trivial he'll say something along the lines of "you're upset over that? You dummy."

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You and Vincent are the most important people of his whole life, and his job is pretty much the reason he's alive

You and Vincent are almost on the same level but he'd never give you up to him,,,, so you miiiight be a more dear to him than his big bro

Everything he does with Vincent he'd do it with you, but it doesn't really work the other way round (if you know what I mean)

Also we're comparing his big brother and his soulmate so,,, of course there are bound to be some differences

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

When he's overworking himself you just drag him off to bed where he lays his head in your lap and falls asleep as you play with his hair

You have such a calming presence that he can't help but relax and feel at ease so you often find him dozing off when the two of you are together

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He loves patting your head

Cuddles time are usually for when he's feeling stressed, you're in a bad mood or for making up after a fight

If the two of you see each other firdt thing in the morning when no one's around he'll give you a kiss on the lips and a warm smile

okay but imagine a kiss from theo im-

Hugs from him are for special occasions

When you don't see each other for some time the first thing he'll do when he sees you is giving you a tight hug

When something dangerous happens and he sees you're safe, he hugs you

Hugs you when you're sleeping too

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

When he's missing you he tries to take his mind off of thoughts of you

He buries himself in work

He stays at the mansion as little as he can, because everything reminds him of you

At night he often goes drinking with Arthur because he can't bear the feeling of the place next to his in bed empty and cold

Let's not talk about the way your pillow emanates your scent :)

It's basically a living hell for him

The first days he does pretty well at hiding the fact that he misses you

Then he starts to get irritated and snaps at everyone

Cue Vincent helping him relax

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Who are we even kidding he'd give his life for you if it ever came to it

Just please don't make him choose between you, Vincent and/or his job

If he had to, he'd probably give up his job but you'd lose big part of him

But on the overall he'd give up anything for those three things