#i think this dates back to my early teens but considering the materials i still think it's pretty decent

[theoldlesbianwithcats]

On your last post about lesbians, it might sound weird, but I am asking it in genuine faith. How do I know I am lesbian and not bi. I never experienced sexual attraction to men, but sadly I had plenty of grouping, grooming, exposure to inappropriate materials, assault experiences when I was teen. That left me very confused. For a while I tried to date men in hopes to fix what is wrong with me (lack of sexual attraction to them whatsoever). I am still unsure I can really say I lack attraction to males, despite not dating anyone for more then decade and not wanting to date them ever. But I have had all those experiences. Should I consider myself bi based on that? So far due to amounts of trauma I am only stuck exploring my memory back and forth and sometimes panic 'what if i actually liked that second just a bit'? Or how do I really know I did not like it, outside of not liking it, bc what if I am confused/in denial/just traumatized? I know it sounds weird, but it is honestly how my brain works at the moment due to amounts of gaslight that surrounded all of it and peer pressure due to living in very conservative society. I did not knew or see any lesbian till much later in life, and for long time I was sure that I am just traumatized het that needs fixing her repulsion and I have weird escapist obsessions with my female best friends. Is that a bi experience people on tumblr always talk about that I should not go with to lesbian places? I know I said I lack attraction to men, but I wonder how can I really know for sure to prove it. Would I know if I have had it? I am much ashamed to bring it to any lesbian space to be honest, so I lurk on the side and don't talk.

Hi anon!

This is what I mean when I say that traumatized bi women calling themselves lesbians make things more difficult and confusing for everyone: traumatized lesbians don't willingly date men, no matter how hurt/confused we are, it's het/bisexual behavior. (I'm making an exception for having a "boyfriend" in elementary or middle school and not going further than a kiss, normally at that point any lesbian would be sure she doesn't want to do that with any boy.)

To be clear, I don't blame you here. I'm just saying that if bi women were more honest instead of calling themselves lesbians, you wouldn't torment yourself nearly as much. In my country, 50% of lesbian-identified women admitted that they were attracted to men. So surely this makes things confusing and that's why the common lesbian narratives don't make sense: lesbians have sex with men when we're miserable, we can be married with men for decades and have children with them before realizing we are lesbians, the only way a lesbian would be a gold star is if we have a perfect privileged life free from violence and homophobia, etc. Truth is, a lot of lesbians (including me) showed early signs of homosexuality no matter how ignorant we were of its existence and we never seriously think of dating a man, let alone act on it, no matter how traumatized we are and how much it can protect us from lesbophobia.

In my opinion, lesbians are not the women you should confide in about this, but bi women, so you can have a better idea of how wide that spectrum of experiences is. Sure, a lot of bi women hook up with men regularly or end up marrying a man, but that's not all of them! I personally know a bi woman in her 30s who never did anything with a man because, while she feels attraction, it's not enough to want to act on it. I know another one who is simply not interested in dating at all because she prefers reading and traveling alone.

You don't need to prove anything to anyone. As someone who did a lot of therapy for trauma due to male violence and lesbophobia, I think your focus should be on letting go of your past and creating the life you want, which is something you can do no matter your sexual orientation :)

I hope it helped!

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson, catching up

The Gloria Scott Published: April 1993 Set: July 1874 [Baring-Gould] or (according to my estimation of the timeline), no earlier than 1875, no later than 1878, MOST LIKELY 1875 or 1876. Timeline Note that Baring-Gould puts Holmes’ birth date as 1954, which, while not impossible, seems to only have been chosen to give him wiggle room for his fan theories about what Holmes was getting up to prior to a Study in Scarlet. This won’t be the last time I look at Baring-Gould’s timeline and ask, respectfully, what the hell. The other thing about timelines is that this is a college adventure that Holmes told Watson about, sometime between 1880 and 1892 (Between when they met and several months before publication.) So it’s interesting to ask: when did Holmes tell Watson about the case that lost him his first friend at school? An entire collection of Holmes’ cases had been published by 1892. A second would be coming out in 1894, so it could be that Watson needed some material. It could equally have happened in the early days with Holmes attempting to entertain his new friend, who, as we covered last time, was not up to much at first.  Another consideration: I strongly believe that the majority of Watson’s writings fictionalized Holmes’ cases as well as sensationalizing them. Names were changed to protect the innocent and the guilty, details of the timeline were fudged beyond mere absent-mindedness, specific addresses were changed slightly, occasionally a murder weapon would be so memorable that Watson had to invent a milk drinking snake to replace it. As one does when one is on a deadline. The Baring-Gould chronology is based on weather patterns and the occasional real name of a ship or other current event, which he actually probably had better access to than me while living 1913 to 1967, as well as on his obsession with giving Holmes an heir and an affair. (Some of us are interested in neither, mr. Baring-Gould. Ask me how I know.)  Preliminary Evidence: Holmes’ student days. - Holmes says he was at college two years. This is probably misleading to a modern (and american) audience, because college did not mean an institution granting a degree attended when you were of age to choose your career. A college referred to the place where a boy was prepared to be a gentleman, finishing his general studies before moving (or not) to his professional ones. The UK still seems to have a different idea of what a “college” versus a university is, while people speaking US english use them more or less interchangeably. In the modern day, school is only compulsory in the UK until age 16, and “college” is the years between 16 and 18 where you prepare to enter university.

-Think of a prep school, or, more broadly, considering that public (paid by your parents, the exact opposite of what public school means in the US) schools that took children from ten to their late teens were sometimes called “something college” think of any middle and high school boarding school you’ve encountered in fiction.

 - That said, if Holmes is only attending for two years prior to university and he’s spending school holidays with his friends, he’s probably in his late teens. He mentions his course of study being unusual, so there’s definitely some leeway to choose his coursework, and I doubt he tested OUT of any subjects he choses to ignore... say, astronomy. - So my guess is that he’s attending some sort of prep school designed to give students an advantage in their chosen university courses, and is somewhere between sixteen and nineteen. (There’s no point in that course of study if he’s not approaching the right age to go to University.) Working back from the presumption that he’s 22 to 23 during the events of Study in Scarlet, we can assume that it happened three to five years before the winter of 1880 to 1881. 

- Baring-Gould’s timeline both assumes that Holmes is twenty (Which gives me some pause regarding my historical research into colleges: BG was both English and born closer to the time of writing so he may have had personal experience with the educational timeline of a British gentleman. Not much pause given how much his timeline is molded to his fan theories though) and that this happened six years before he and Watson met. 

[xtrablak674]

Down the Rabbit Hole

First it was the disagreement about filters with my twenty-four year old nephew, who concurrently doesn't have any social media accounts, and says they're adamantly against using filters on photos, they prefer reality to fantasy. I told them I too prefer reality in my art, but on this precious face, the more filters the better. A bitch needs to look good for posterity.

This conversation was the spark, but what would be the kindle is my correspondence with SoundCloud to try to get the log-in for my probably fifteen year old account. They had a bunch of questions about the last playlist I deleted like twelve years ago, and the clincher was they had a long defunct email address from my days when I had a domain name or three. I was explicit in my response that that email address hadn't been in service since maybe 2004.

SoundCloud also wanted me to send a photo of myself holding up the number for the trouble ticket I had opened with them. Now this took me all the way back to the early aughts, because I was sure it was either dating or hook-up sites that would ask you for a photo with some code or string of numbers. Naturally my mind wanted to find one of these old selfies, before the term was even coined.

Cloud accounts were my first stop, I perused my Google Drive, and DropBox but they both only went back as far as the pre-teens. I had considered getting out my first iPad to see if those other alternative cloud accounts would help, but I knew the real tea would be found on the DVDs I burned on my early 2008 MacBook Pro to back up my files, but that laptop didn't really work and I didn't have an external DVD reader that could plug into my iPad Pro.

My alternative and now only Flickr account did a bit better and I found some of these low megapixel photos. But that wasn't enough, I then dived into my sent items on my oldest email address, one of the three I had opened with Yahoo, when Yahoo was the Google of the world. Looking at the old attachments that I sent folks and that folks sent me had me in a downloading frenzy, curious now about why did some of the images still look relatively good while others looked like trash. Alongside pixel dimensions, I saw that MP which I am guessing is megapixels played a large role in if photos looked good twenty years later.

Not content I then decided to try to date when I opened all of my open email addresses, scouring sent items and inboxes to see which were the early entries and thus probably the year the account was created.

All of this to say I still feel strongly that all of this "archived" material is a potential resource to create some kind of new content, I am just not really sure what. I had considered making graphs or list of the different people I fucked with in different years based on my correspondence with them via email, but then this leaves out the whole instant message phase of the late nineties and early aughts, which I will not even lie was a big place for me to hang out. I do have snippets of some of those conversations that I emailed to myself.

But what happens to all this digital debris? I wonder about my current digital footprint which is currently primarily text and DMs, will these be saved? What happens when a platform goes out of business. My personal beef with Apple it has never been easy on mobile to access old content. I loved Time Machine on the desktop OS, because it made it very easy and clear how to access old content.

I think archeologist realize that this "digital" age will not survive the cloud servers and services that we spend so much money backing up and storing it on, but what will happen to these things after we're gone? Will anyone ever see these things or are they just digital debris left behind like an unpaid storage unit?

[Photos by Brown Estate]

[woodelf68]

Yarn art for Dogust.

[starlightstevie]

fics rec / january 2021

And I’m back with another fic rec! There’s some absolute goodies in this month’s rec - I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! Happy reading x

(* is smut)

*tale as old as time (series) by @spacelabrathor Beast!Thor x reader: Thor is a beast, prowling the halls of an empty castle alone, living a life of cold, barren solitude. Villagers visit once yearly to bring him gifts he does not seek, piling valueless trinkets at his gate they feel will keep him appeased. They hate Thor and Thor knows, someday, that they will breach his gates and come for his head. He wonders to himself, often, if he will try to stop them when they do. This year, though, the offering has changed. Thor finds not trinkets at his front gate, but a girl, and then everything begins to change.

COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR by @inthorantine While not officially out yet, I am putting this here because everyone needs to read this! Kait has outdone herself and no, I will not stop talking about this for the next 500 years. Here’s some h/c to keep you going until it comes out! One | Two

*if I love you was a promise by @blueberrythor​ Thor x reader: Thor doesn’t consider himself a jealous man–there aren’t many who could compare to him, especially among mortals. He hasn’t had much reason to acquaint himself with the feeling. But watching you with Steve, even he isn’t immune to the sharp sting of jealousy. 

*The Watching by @opheliadawnwalker3​ Thor x reader (some Loki x reader): Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

*Desperate Measures by @lancsnerd Thor x reader: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Thor be?

*passionate & burning by @peachyteabuck​ Thor x reader: You’re busy with working from home, but Thor has other plans for the day.

*my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by @spacelabrathor Frontier!Thor x reader: Thor makes a home and a life for his family out on the rugged frontier of the Old West. The winters are unforgiving but he keeps them safe and warm. At night, their cabin glows with firelight and the warmth of their company. A small slice of their life together.

*survive the summer and its sequel *hungry for me by @peachyteabuck (Dubcon) Thor x reader: A stranger approaches you on a warm summers day.

*the fluffer (series) by @punani​ Masterlist 70′s pornstar!Chris Evans x black!reader: It’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. The studio’s are hot, Gemini Flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at Shaggin’ Studios. Chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. Is this all just physical, or is there something more?

*old flannel by @honeysucklesteve​ Chris x reader: an innocent night of lounging in his old flannel leads to not to innocent touches.

*sunday football by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Chris sits you on his lap as he teaches you all about football.

*grocery run by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Innocently wearing Chris’ shirt leads to you finding out just how much he can’t resist you.

*Captain by @chrissquares Nomad!Steve x reader: You call Steve a name that drives him wild.

*A Birthday Gift by @the-iceni-bitch​ Nomad!Steve x reader: The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

*let me come home to you (series) by @evansweaters Masterlist Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in amber’s end, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.

*mountainside by @honeysucklesteve Nomad!Steve x reader: Steve needs something to give him a release and you do just that.

*steve needs to relax, good thing you’re here by @honeysucklesteve​

*Such a Shame by @angrythingstarlight​​ Steve x reader: You owe him for saving your life, the price is more than you were willing to pay, such a shame you have to force his hand.

*Captain Jealousy by @nony-bear​​ Steve x reader: You and Steve have been keeping your relationship a secret to avoid public backlash for your age difference. However, after watching Steve flirt with a new agent at one of Tony Stark’s famous parties, your jealousy and frustration come to a head.

*A Christmas Compromise by @stargazingfangirl18​ Ransom x reader: Even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, all you wanted for Christmas was Ransom.

*a man of god by @punani Priest!Ransom x reader: You’ve always been a good girl– attending mass regularly, never been touched by yourself or another, and the way that you dress? a naive innocence radiates off of you. even a man of god can’t help himself, not that he puts any effort into refraining from forbidden fruit.

*Naughty or Nice by @sweeterthanthis​ Ransom x reader: Getting caught nibbling on forbidden holiday treats.

*her cherry lips on his whiskey flavoured kiss by @cloudystevie​ Ransom x reader: The moment he met you, he knew.

Not My Style by @chrissquares​ Ransom x reader: With cold weather comes dry lips..

*In Good Hands by @ozarkthedog (Dark) Doctor!Andy Barber x reader: Your usual OBGYN Doctor got called away leaving Dr. Barber to administer your pap exam.

*Drowning by @savior-adriana​ Andy x reader: You love working as Jacob’s tutor in German. Not necessarily because you love the language or the teen’s attitude, but because it means you get to spend time alone with a certain Andy Barber once a week.

*Something Old, Something New by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: To this day you couldn’t work out why he’d chosen your mother. They were total opposites, a mismatched couple if ever you saw one. Yet, you watched it play out – thinking, hoping, that he’d never go through with it.

*Beg for Daddy by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.

*it’s the right time to roll to me (series) by @blueberrythor Masterlist Bucky x married!reader: Stuck in an unhappy marriage, you find solace in Bucky.

*about last week by @xbuchananbarnes Bucky x reader: You’ve been avoiding Bucky.

*need by @cloudystevie Bucky x reader: You’re horni for Bonky’s metal hand

Season of the Witch by @msmarvelwrites​ Bucky x reader: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much.

*The Bet (series) by @no-droids Part One | Part Two Poe x reader: There are 3 rules to the bet between you and your x-wing commander: No sex, No touching yourself, No orgasms.

*the shakes by @whistlingwillows Poe x reader: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.

Mornings with Modern!Poe by @okay-hotshot Modern!Poe x reader: You and Poe try to have some alone time while you wait for your morning coffee and tea to brew, only to have your child interrupt you and run away yowling.

frigid by @whirlybirbs Mando x reader: Din doesn’t like the ocean. You’re soaked.

Getting vulnerable with Mando by @cptnbvcks

*men of the bau: kinks by @luciilferss​

open road by @gayprentiss Emily Prentiss x JJ Jareau: After retiring from the BAU, JJ and Emily decide to forgo an apartment in favor of an old sprinter van.

*Teacher’s Pet by @imagining-in-the-margins Professor!Reid x reader: There are only a few reasons to sign up for Criminal Psychology. You could be like the reasonable students and join the class because you are genuinely interested in the material, or you could be like the rest of us. That is, you could enroll in the class because the professor is a fine piece of ass fresh out of prison.

*Spencer taking you in the library by @spenciebabie

*of terrible coffee and late-night rides by @venusbarnes Hotch x reader: A collection of moments throughout your relationship with one Aaron Hotchner.

*fragrance by @whistlingwillows College!Hotch x reader: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”

*bitter end (series) by @whistlingwillows Masterlist Hotch x reader: Author Sarah Dessen wrote, “Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.”

*Beard Kink by @reidsexualwriting Hotch x reader: Hotch with a beard has you feeling all types of ways.

*Lunch break by @arganfics Hotch x reader: You help Hotch relax after a tough day.

*Early Mornings by @mrvltwimagines Hotch x reader: The very rare mornings where you wake up and your boyfriend was still home and in bed were definitely cherished by you.

*Do you like that? Being in control? by @writefasttalkevenfaster Hotch x reader: You decide that Hotch needs a break from being in charge.

*Waking up Hotch with a blowjob by @writefasttalkevenfaster

Taking a day off with Hotch by @ssahoodrathotchner

*eat until your blood sings by @peachyteabuck Tony Stark x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Clint Barton x Thor Odinson x reader: Gangbang with the Avengers.

*Anakin Skywalker has a big dick by @anakinswhore

[redhoodieone]

Welcome Home

A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language and Smut.

  I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.

It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…

I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.

But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.

Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).

Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.

I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.

I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?

Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.

As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:

Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.

Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).

Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…

But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?

I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.

I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.

I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?

After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?

I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.

 Dear Lady Y/N,

I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.

I dearly love you and the boys,

 Love Alfred Pennyworth

P.S.

Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.

 I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.

“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”

“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.

“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”

His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.

“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”

Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.

“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.

“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.

“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.

“Was he any good?”

Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.

“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.

“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”

I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.

I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.

“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.

“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.

Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.

“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.

“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.

“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”

“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.

I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?

The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”

“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.

“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.

“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.

Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.

Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.

“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.

“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.

I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 04

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual harassment (please don’t read this chapter if it triggers/makes you uncomfortable, your safety comes first)

A/N:  i do realise i’m on a roll posting every day but uni starts early and idk why i keep writing like i’m running out of time😂 hope you enjoy this chapter. much love xx

* additionally, there is a light sexual harassment scene in this chapter and if anyone is uncomfortable or triggered by it i would skip it. your mental health and safety come first. *

NEXT CHAPTER

One day I’ll fly away...

She remembered the very first role she got to play as a lead. She was the standby for Glinda in Wicked. She could still feel her hand shaking as the backstage technicians secured her to the bubble. She could still hear the bubble machine engine rumble as the bubble raised up in the ceiling and for a moment she was above everything - above the audience, above the cast, above the stage itself. It felt like flying, soaring through the gasping of the crowd. She remembered feeling like this was her height, this was her flight but as things went, as she got more roles and as she progressed to the screen as she always wanted, the feeling of flying just seemed to soar, turning her into a creature of air.

Flying for Bucky was something he couldn’t remember, he remembered crashing. Remembered falling from the train waiting for the peaceful slumber of death to come but it never did, remembered the cold snow melting through his jacket reaching his skin. It’s cold. Remembered diving in after Steve, lungs filled with water, heavy suit. It’s cold, it’s quiet. Soaring was only something he could dream of while frozen or when they put him on a cell with a small window. Crashing was more like something he could remember, drowning, pushed to the bottom by his arm, wishing death came to greet him

More powerful than crashing was sound. The theatre was always filled with whistling from men getting a peak at ladies’ legs, women giggling and security trying to keep out children and teens away. You could hear the laughter reverberating from any material, it was electrifying. Her voice however seemed to melt over distorted past sounds, a melancholy while held hands with the old telling it never of its former glory but of what it can be. Bucky knew now why her agency kept her so locked up, all people with a voice eventually fly away. 

     - Don’t just stare at me. - she bite her lip, looking the other way. Did she sound that bad? She thought she sounded just fine in the shower that morning, maybe her bathroom had better acoustics. - Should we go back home? Before it gets dark?

     - Sure. - he got up from his seat, extending his hand towards her so she could jump off the set. She put her hand in his, another hand coming to rest upon his shoulder as her elevated her up into the air before bringing her down onto the worn out floor. 

The walk back to the subway was quiet. People were starting to crowd Coney Island for night time dates. Bucky remembered bringing girls to dates in Coney Island, even remembered bringing Steve along, he just didn’t remember the girls’ names anymore. There were some flashes of what they were wearing but surely those memories were replaced with that of Y/N staring at the ferris wheel as they walked back to the subway.

Once there, her child like wonder of the city that never slept and the city which she now lived in didn’t seem to leave her eyes, sparkling brighter than the billboards in Times Square. The walk back to the apartment was once again quiet, with their footsteps being the only thing echoing in the halls. Soon enough they reached her door, still looking as intact as they left it.

     - Thank you so much for showing me Coney Island. - she handed him the teddy he had won. - Thank you gift. 

     - I won it for you, Y/N. Besides, I think I’m a bit past stuffed animals. 

     - Well, I’ve had my fair share of stuffed animals to last a life time and I insist you keep this one. - she stuffed the teddy between his arms, finding it incredibly adorable how the little toy looked smaller in the middle of his arms than in hers. - Little Coney Island memento. 

     - I should get going. - he changed the subject, gesturing with his hands as he looked at the time on his watch. - It’s been a great day, Y/N.

     - The pleasure’s been all mine, Bucky. - she smiled as she held the edge of the door. She stood by the slightly opened door watching as he turned the corner which led to the lift. Once he was out of sight, Y/N walked into her apartment, closing the door behind her but still holding the knob with a silly smile on her face. 

Bucky reached the headquarters around 11 PM. Despite going the long way home, expecting Steve to be asleep when he returned. Steve had a very mundane routine when it came to sleeping, he could still sleep but he would wait until everyone was asleep for him to go to his bedroom. Bucky didn’t want to have to dance the first day in the job waltz. He knew he cared, he knew Steve wanted him to be alright. There was only one small thing; Steve wanted Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, his Bucky, and he just wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t like being asked who he was, he doesn’t know who he is.

Opening the door to the living room, he found Captain America himself sat on the big lounge chair, skimming through his list of modern day TV shows and movies. His blue eyes moved from the bright lights of the television to him.

      - How was the first day? - he questioned, regular optimism present in his voice. Steve had remained the same, maybe it was that which made him believe the spectre of the boy Bucky was could be revived. He seemed to forget dead people can’t be revived. 

      - It was good, went to Coney Island.

      - Coney Island? - Steve muted the TV, contorted face expression settling into his youthful features. - I thought you were going to guard her door.

      - She wanted to see Coney Island. Couldn’t let her go alone?

      - Didn’t her personal assistant tell you she couldn’t leave? - he had been noisey, he had looked into Bucky’s contract. He told himself it was just in case, just in case Bucky needed his help. - You don’t want to get in any trouble, specially with agencies. They’re the devil.

      - I’ll take it into consideration. - his skin tightened as he smiled a tight straight line. 

      - Do you wanna stay for a while? I’m watching a series Sam recommended. 

      - I think I’m gonna just go to sleep.

Steve nodded allowing Bucky to return to his bedroom. There wasn’t much in the bedroom, a bed, side table and wardrobe, nothing else. No mirrors and no windows, silence, grey and black bedding, no decoration rather than a postcard his sister had sent him during the war framed in a plastic frame. No glass, Steve wanted nothing around he could harm himself with. It was almost like living in an insane asylum. 

He looked at the little teddy bear in his hands before placing it on the side table, a little smile on his face. A Coney Island memento indeed. 

The morning came rushing like the rain which fell against Y/N’s bedroom glass window. She turned around in her bedding, pushing her knitted quilt up to her nose, the scent of fresh crisp cotton invading her senses. The mood would’ve remained the same comfortable, early morning type had it not been for her comforter being yanked off her without any warning. Through the fogginess of morning sight, she could make out Ms. Olson in her traditional black suit co-ord. She thought it fitting, considering her morning was now ruined.

     - Get up. We have much to do. - she barked like an infuriating dog.

     - But I thought I had the weekend off.- Y/N rubbed the sleep of her eyes, sitting up, quilt covering her body. 

     - You have last mine commitment. Now run along and change into something more ... - he analysed her before gazing her face, tight expression settling in. - Enchanting. 

She left Y/N in the bedroom, clenching her bedding as she looked around the place she’d rather be. Nevertheless, she rose from her bed and walked up to her wardrobe grabbing the first dress she could find and a pair of heels. Her routine during work was different, she normally showered, got her makeup done, dressed and then out of the door. Mechanic, controlled, with Ms. Olson asking her to hurry up. In a split second she returned to the living room, bag held on her shoulder, sunglasses in hand as she prepared to walk out with Miss Olson.

    - You should’ve put some product on your hair. The ends look dry. - Miss Olson commented as they walked outside. She looked around hoping Bucky would be around but it was just her and Miss Olson. 

    - Is Mr. Barnes not coming? 

    - It’s a dress rehearsal. - Y/N froze in her mind. Dress rehearsals were supposed to be better than fittings but after her last experience she really wasn’t in the mood for another experience with the director.

Time seemed to stop, freeze in spot as she stepped inside the car. No noise, no sound, even colour seemed to fade as the car drove faster and faster. She wondered what she could do, open the door, roll over, maybe do it like what she had seen in Lady Bird but the driver always kept the door fully locked and Miss Olson always had her eye on her like Sauron’s Eye.

She looked at her phone in her lap, fingers loomed over Bucky’s name. He was employed by her, maybe she could ask him to come over. Maybe if he was there it would be easier. She sent the message hopeful he would reply, but the text bounced back. Looking at the network, she was lacking all the bars on her phone. Sighing, she leaned against the car seat, looking off the window, dark clouds on the blue sky mocking her. 

As the car came to a halt on the same building as before, she almost had to be pulled out the car by Miss Olson. Once inside, Y/N could see him, she could smell his patchouli fragrance as he wrapped his arm around her. She stood once again in front of the camera lights, muffled cries in her head as she was squeezed into a corset and a then a body con dress. Her eyes were blinded by the lights, behind those lights Miss Olson and Mister Powell gazing at her. Her hand slide down her collarbones to her lap, feeling the fabric as the cameras kept flashing, locking her in a case of lights. 

Once the lights dimmed, she could see them looking down at her, almost five feet tall, mumbling she couldn’t hear as one of the costume designers helped her out.

     - Costumes are looking fantastic. - the director walked up to her, hand wrapping itself around her waist, raising up to lay just below her breast. - Maybe you should try and cut some weight. You would look a bit better.

     - We’ve already started a diet plan. - Miss Olson added. - Not to worry, Mr. Powell. Y/N is fully invested in this movie.

She remained caged in the conversation, being moved by someone back onto the car and dropped at home. She looked around her hallway, wondering if it had always been this cold. As she opened the door to her home, she noticed the jar of flowers the director had sent her on her kitchen balcony. White carnations in a crystal clear jar. She stormed to the kitchen, ripping the tag of the carnations. To my perfect leading lady. The handwriting wasn’t his, probably his assistant. 

When had it all gone so wrong? Why did it felt wrong? Why did the flight felt like a burning crash? When did it all get so screwed up? 

She wrapped her hands around the glass jar, hands trembling, the sound of her ring hitting against the glass being the only thing she heard before a shattering sound filled her mind. It was fast, too fast but she threw the jar against the wall, watching as the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, falling into the ground like small diamonds. She thought it would make her feel better but instead she feel to the ground, trying to gather the pieces together as guilt embraced her. 

    - Y/N?

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi​ @emzd34​

[tuanyiems]

Ice Choco

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: you’re nervous about spending the holidays with his parents, but you should be more nervous about the boy who can’t seem to take his hands off of you, established relationship!au christmas!au warnings – fingering, teasing, slow sex, unprotected sex, creampie, this one’s extra fluffy I think, it’s Christmas after all :’) a/n – Christmas came early hehe enjoy! part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

You smile fondly at the twinkling fir tree, golden lights and sparkling red bulbs drape over its forest green body. Chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil that you and Yugyeom had hand wrapped yourselves hang on red ribbons throughout the tree. You pluck one off and pop it into your mouth. The peppermint chocolate melts on your tongue, coating your mouth in sweetness.

When Yugyeom first invited you to join his family for the holidays, you were anxious. It hadn’t even been three months since you started dating. You wondered if you were moving too fast. Would his family judge you? Would Yugyeom realize how awkward of a person you were? Would you be left sad and alone on your favorite holiday?

It was only after plenty of reassurance from Yugyeom that you decided to just go for it. You liked Yugyeom, a lot, and despite the short time you’ve been dating, every day has been full of happiness. And if his family was anything like Yugyeom, you would probably like them too.

And that’s how you found yourself here, in the Kim’s living room on Christmas Eve. Unlike what you had imagined, his parents welcomed you with open arms. You learned exactly where Yugyeom got his warmth and kindness.

And as if this moment couldn’t be more picturesque, a full moon hung in the night sky like a shining ornament.

“Pretty,” Mrs. Kim interjected, stepping beside you.

“It is,” you smile, looking out the window.

“No, I was talking about you dear,” she grins, squeezing your arm.

“O-oh,” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat.

Laughing, Mrs. Kim tilts her head back the same way Yugyeom laughs when he’s teasing you. “Aren’t you a cutie! Yugyeom did good finding you.”

“T-thanks,” you sputter, not sure what to do with yourself. You fix at the red plaid pajamas the Kim’s gifted you with this morning. “I’m glad you invited me…or, well, I don’t know if you invited me. I don’t know if you knew about me. Maybe Yugyeom just brought me without notice. Oh, I hope he didn’t-”

Giggling, Mrs. Kim pulls you into a side hug.

“Sorry,” you apologize, taking a deep breath. “What I mean is, you’ve been so nice. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you and your whole family. Really, thank you.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Kim scrunches her nose, smiling. “It’s nice to have another woman in the house. Tomorrow, my daughter-in-law will be joining us too!”

“I can’t wait to meet her and your eldest son!” You agree, “I’ve heard so many great things from Yugyeom.”

She nods, giving your arm another squeeze. “Yeah, Yugyeom dotes on his brother so much. But until then, you can use Euigyeom’s old bedroom. I’ve prepared fresh sheets so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Fresh sheets won’t feel as cozy as my bedsheets though,” Yugyeom interrupts, coming up beside his mother.

Your eyes widen at his comment.

Mrs. Kim frowns, slapping Yugyeom on the arm. “No babies until you two get married!”

Yugyeom laughs at his mom and when he sees your mortified face, laughs even harder. You aren’t even sure which part of her sentence to be more flustered about—the fact that his mom just insinuated you two possibly having sex under her roof or that you’ve been dating for less than three months and she was already considering marriage! 

Your skin feels like hot lava and you wonder if you might even hive up from embarrassment. That would be a first.

“Oh, I think we broke her,” his mom chuckles.

“Honey,” Mr. Kim interrupts, resting his hands over Mrs. Kim’s shoulders. “Let’s head to bed and let the young one’s talk.”

He sends you a wink before ushering his wife into their bedroom. When you hear their door shut, you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. Yugyeom chuckles softly beside you, patting you on the back.

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about,” he says. “My parents love you already. I think they love you more than they love me.”

“Impossible!” you scrunch your nose, but your lips curl up anyways. “This afternoon when I was helping your mom in the kitchen, she kept talking about all the awards you won in high school. Class president, co-president of the dance club, winner of the youth dance competition. How come you never talk about dance? What else are you hiding from me?”

Yugyeom’s eyes crinkle into half moon shapes. “I also won first prize in the science fair in primary school,” he grins, winking at you playfully. “Your man made a pretty mean volcano back in the day.”

“Oh wow, a volcano? That beats the boy I dated for his solar system model,” you joke.

He smirks, putting his arm around you, “Definitely an upgrade, babe.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll ask to see the baby photos,” you tease, leaning into his embrace as you poke his chest.

Yugyeom tilts his head cockily to the side. “Not to brag, but I was a pretty cute baby. Just a warning, but you might fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes. A little too late for that, you think to yourself, but that is a confession for another day.

“We should probably clean up and head to bed soon,” you smile, pulling away.

“Don’t wanna see Santa?” he teases.

You chuckle, clearing the living room of the abandoned mugs and plates with the exception of one plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I think it’s cute that your mom still keeps out cookies.”

He smiles, helping you empty the dishes into the sink. “Back when we were kids, they’d wake up at midnight and eat the cookies too.”

Lips jutting out, you stare at Yugyeom with big doe eyes, completely endeared. He glances at you before chuckling and slipping on the bright pink dishwashing gloves.

“On the downside, I got bullied for being the only kid in the neighborhood who still believed in Santa,” he adds.

“Aww, poor baby,” you coo, brushing the stray hair out of his eyes. “Tell me their names, I’ll go beat them up for you.”

“Bambam,” he quips making you laugh.

“Sorry, Gyeom, you’re on your own.”

He chuckles. “S’alright, I had my mom fight that battle.”

You let out a deep breath, leaning your elbows on the center island of the kitchen and admire Yugyeom from behind. He’s only in a plain grey t-shirt and matching red plaid pajama pants, and yet, he still looks handsome. Your eyes travel across his broad back. There is the faint hint of his tattoo underneath the thin cotton material.

When you first saw Yugyeom’s back tattoo, you were surprised but also found it very fitting. Black ink bled wings across his shoulder blades. In a way, Yugyeom came into your life like an angel. Your guardian angel, he liked to joke, saving others from your clumsiness. 

You scoff at the memory, making Yugyeom turn to you with narrowed eyes.

“What are you snickering about back there?”

“Nothing!” you squeak, pursing your lips together like a child caught red handed. 

He looks at you for a moment longer before turning back to the dishes, smiling to himself. 

“I was just thinking,” you finally add after a pause. “I really enjoy the relationship you have with your parents.”

You watch his shoulders lift and you imagine he’s smiling. “Yeah, they’re my best friends,” he tells you over the sound of the running faucet.

“I’m jealous,” you confess softly. You assume he doesn’t hear you.

Unlike Yugyeom, you grew up in a strict household. The only memories you have of your biological father were all associated with fear and while you got along with your mother, you weren’t exactly close either. Of course, the two of you loved each other as most families did, but after experiencing a marriage of struggle, as soon as you were of legal age, your mom went off to chase her own freedom. Back in your late teens, this had put a strain in your relationship, but now that you are older, with your perspective matured, you grew to understand your mom and you’re glad that she’s found a happier life of her own.

Now, the two of you can talk openly about the ups and downs of adulthood and womanhood and everything in between.

But this was why you weren’t spending the holidays with your own family. The two of you had decided a few years back that New Year’s would be for family, Christmas is for love and adventure.

You watch as your love and adventure turns off the faucet and shakes the pink gloves off his arms. “Done!” he declares triumphantly, turning to you now.

“Looks like you’re going to make the nice list this year,” you compliment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins down at you, “How about you sneak into my room and we can both make the naughty list.”

Your eyes widen, feeling your cheeks flush at the thought. Yugyeom laughs, throwing his head back.

“I’m just kidding, don’t have a heart attack!” 

Slapping his chest, you pout. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m going to need the energy to deal with you tomorrow.”

But when your head finally sinks into the fresh sheets Mrs. Kim had prepared for you, sleep never comes. After washing up and saying goodnight to Yugyeom, it was like all the exhaustion washed away too. You are wide awake when the clock hits midnight.

It’s probably because you’re in a new environment. It’s been a while since you last slept in a stranger’s bed. You haven’t even slept at Yugyeom’s place yet! You always go home before it gets too late, or it’s him staying at yours.

Anyways, the nerves of meeting Yugyeom’s family along with the new environment and the thrill of Christmas combined is probably what’s keeping you up.

Sitting up in bed, you decide to fix up a warm drink. That should calm you, right?

Slipping out of bed, you sneak out of your bedroom on tiptoes, twisting the doorknob so slowly one might think you’ve been frozen. One thing about the Kim’s house is how eerily quiet the whole place is. Unlike your apartment where everything seemed to buzz—the fridge, the walls, the ceiling, you name it—this house was cloaked in silence.

It feels like an eternity when you finally get the door open big enough to walk through. Looking both ways in the dark hallway, you make a turn and tiptoe your way into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, you flick the island lights on, casting a dim spotlight at the center of the room. You squint, eyes adjusting to the lights before making your way towards the cabinets.

Helping Mrs. Kim with dinner this evening had paid off. You were already familiar with the kitchen setup.

Plucking a hot chocolate packet between two fingers, you swivel back to the island to boil the water. Pouring the brown powder into a mug, you let out a breath, waiting for the water to boil.

In the open window across from you, you are delighted to find a flurry of white illuminated by the dim light of a single lamppost. The snowflakes fall in fat clumps, as if in slow motion. The quiet realization that you will have a white Christmas after all, brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Hello, Santa,” a sudden voice breaks the silence, making you jump up in a silent shriek.

Standing in the shadows, at the doorway of the kitchen is a very amused Yugyeom, his hands clasped around his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“You scared me!” you whisper yell, one hand on your beating chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, not at all sorry, as he walks to your side behind the island. “What are you doing up anyways?”

“Making hot chocolate,” you explain, hands coming to fix at his bed head. “I couldn’t fall asleep. Want one?”

You’re already grabbing another packet from the cabinet before he can answer you.

“I can make you an ice choco,” you smile up at him, eyes forming crescents. They look shinier under the lights. He feels a flutter in his stomach.

Smiling quietly, Yugyeom nods. For a moment, the two of you stand in easy silence. Only the sound of the water boiler can be heard. Yugyeom’s eyes follow where yours are staring and his heart warms. You look so happy, it’s endearing. You must be the only person in this city who hasn’t been jaded from the snowstorms that hit every winter.

Coming from behind, Yugyeom wraps you in his arms, bending to rest his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers into your ear, gazing out at the falling snow.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, turning, you hold his face in one palm and press a kiss to his cheek. He squeezes you tighter in his arms.

When the water boiler clicks off, water now hot and bubbling, you move to grab it but Yugyeom holds you tight, pulling you closer to his chest. You giggle softly, tilting your head at him curiously. He answers you with cold fingers sliding underneath your shirt. It sends you shivering all over.

“Yugyeom!” you squeak in surprise, making futile attempts to escape his grasp.

“I know something else we could do to get you sleepy,” he whispers, breath on the shell of your ear.

“Y-your parents are right down the hall!” you stutter, gulping back the whimper that threatens to escape your throat.

Yugyeom licks a stripe up the shell of your ear, “And sleeping.” You can feel his smirk against your ear.

“I-w-we can’t,” you whine, unconvincingly.

“But you want to,” he says matter-of-factly, hands sliding up your skin. You feel him inhale when his palms come around the supple flesh of your breasts. “No bra? You naughty girl.”

Your protests catch in your throat when he begins to knead at your breasts, rolling both nipples between his thumbs. You whimper, head falling back onto his shoulder at the sensation. His fingers brush against the sensitive buds gently, barely there. It makes your knees weak and your core throb with want.

Yugyeom presses himself into your back and you can feel him hard against you. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to control myself today. Do you know how many hard ons I had to hide from my parents?”

You break into a smile, grinding your ass harder into him. “Is that why you were hugging that throw pillow all day?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Yugyeom warns, pinching you between his thumbs. “I saw the way you were looking at me. I can read you like a book, baby. Bet you’re already wet.”

Yugyeom presses a kiss to your jawline before sucking down your throat. Your breath skips at the fluttering feeling. “G-gyeom, I-I can’t have hickeys.”

He groans softly against you, biting softly at your jugular before letting go. “You don’t get to call the shots, babe.”

The sternness of his voice makes you whimper, which he catches easily with his own lips on yours. Yugyeom kisses you roughly, tongue overpowering yours just the way you like it. When his hand dips down past the waistband of your pajama pants and panties at once, your eyes fall shut, relishing the sudden intrusion.

“Fucking wet,” he smirks, dipping two fingers between your folds. He gathers your slick, spreading it in circles around your sensitive bud. You whimper, knees going weak.

All too soon though, his hand leaves you, making you whine. He holds his fingers up in the light, admiring the glistening web of arousal. As if practiced, you open your mouth for him and he slides his fingers into your mouth. You whimper at the tang of yourself melting on your tongue.

“Tell me you want me,” he mutters, lids heavy as he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth. You run your tongue around his fingers expertly until you’ve licked him clean.

Yugyeom swallows, watching you suck on his fingers and imagines you sucking other things of his. The very thought makes him shiver. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, letting you speak.

“Please Gyeom,” you whine, breathless. “I want you. Need you inside me already.”

It’s music to his ears and he wants to tease you more, but his patience has already run out. Having spent the better half of this day sporting blue balls, Yugyeom just wants to fuck you senseless.

It catches you by surprise when he slips his thumbs down your waistbands and pulls, leaving your ass bare behind the kitchen island. Before you can even feel embarrassed about the sudden exposure, Yugyeom’s finger are back on you, making you whimper while his other hand makes quick work with his own pants and boxers. His cock springs free, red and throbbing.

“You look so delicious like this,” he whispers into your ear, hands squeezing your ass. Oh, how he would have loved to slap your ass until you were red with his fingerprints. Biting his lips, he pushes his dick between your thighs instead.

“Ooh,” you let out a satisfied sigh, your clit rubbing along the length of his cock. Your thighs are soft and warm around his length, it’s unfair, Yugyeom thinks. Your pussy is weeping with desperation, the arousal drips down, coating his dick so that each time he thrusts between your legs, it is deliciously smooth. Everything about your body is heavenly, like it was made for him.

Already, you’re panting, a thick whine straining in your throat. His hot cock rutting between your thighs just teases at your sensitive bud. Your pussy lips clench around nothing and only succeeds in making the ache in your core more despairing. 

“Gyeom, please,” you breathe out, hands coming up to run through his hair, your fingers thread around his black strands, before pulling into your fists. Yugyeom enjoys the ache in his scalp.

When he pulls his cock away, you almost yell out loud, lips pouting from the lost sensation. He answers you with a smirk, nudging his foot between yours, he forces your legs apart. Your hands grip at the counter for support, fingers pressing down hard when he slides two fingers into you without warning.

Immediately, you bite at your bottom lip, fighting the moan that threatens to escape you as he dips his fingers into you over and over, stretching at your velvety walls. His fingers are long and practiced, finding the rough, spongy patch inside you quickly.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the ghost of a whimper panting from your lips as he curls his fingers, sending shivers straight to your core. Over and over, he does this, until you’re tightening around his digits. All too soon, your knees are buckling, mind going numb from the sensation.

And then, he pulls out of you.

You gasp, eyes opening wide while Yugyeom chuckles darkly. 

Before you can complain, he kisses your temple sweetly. “Not yet, baby,” he whispers soothingly.

You feel Yugyeom stepping closer between your legs and then the head of his cock teases at your entrance, sliding up and down your folds, spreading your slick on him.

You’re about to whine for him to stop teasing when you hear the creak of a door opening. Eyes widening, your heart jumps to your throat when the sound of footsteps shuffling against the floors, echoes like a blaring drum from down the dark hallway.

Your breath hitches when Yugyeom sinks his cock into you slowly. Your palm flies to your mouth, just as he slides all the way in, balls pressed to your ass. He leans into you so that his chest is hard-pressed against your back. You can feel his breath on your skin as his lips press against the nape of your neck.

The door of the bathroom opens and closes.

“Shh,” he mumbles against you, slowly pulling out of you. The friction is so delicious, you can’t help the whimper that muffles against your palm. “Wouldn’t want to get caught with my dick inside you…would you?”

He fucks into you, one hand coming to your throat at the sound of your muffled moan. He squeezes at your throat, softly at first. When he feels the way you clench around his cock, he bites into your shoulder, hiding his groan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he whispers into your ear, fingers tapping at your throat. You nod your head eagerly, rutting yourself onto his dick.

He bites at his lip, squeezing around your neck. At the sound of the water faucet running, Yugyeom ruts into you hard, his free hand coming to rub circles around your clit. You pant, breath constricting and eyes rolling. You love the way he fills you entirely. His slow thrusts hit you deep every time, keeping you at the edge of euphoria.

When the bathroom door opens, Yugyeom’s fingers rub at your bud even faster, sending your heart facing and electric currents straight to your core. You’re so close, it hurts. Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, your voice threatening to break as your ears strain to hear the footsteps coming closer.

You can feel your vein pulsing against your forehead as Yugyeom continues to thrust his cock into your sopping hole, sliding deep into your cunt.

The door of his parents’ bedroom squeaks like slow motion. Please, please go back to bed. Shut the door. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your own ear and Yugyeom’s stifled breathing. 

And then you hear the click.

Yugyeom lets go of your throat to hold the edge of the counter instead and the air that invades your lungs while he fucks into you hard send you off the edge.

“Mmmmm,” a strained moan escapes your throat as you collapse onto the island, body jerking as your orgasm hits you in waves. Yugyeom continues his ministrations on your clit, his own balls straining at the way your pussy pulses around him, impossibly tight.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, rocking himself into you as you slowly come down from your high. He caresses your throat lovingly, placing soft kisses to your jawline until he’s spilling into you with a quiet groan.

You shiver, his moan tickling the shell of your ear as your pussy pulsed around his cock, sucking up each hot spurt of cum that shot into you.

“God,” he sighs, sweaty forehead pressing into your shoulder. He all but collapses on you. “I love you so much.”

Both you and Yugyeom freeze. His softened cock slips out of you and he rushes to help clean the cum that drips out of your pussy. Stumbling, Yugyeom haphazardly pulls the band of his pants back up while grabbing a towel from behind him.

You barely even notice the stickiness that drips down your thigh as Yugyeom wipes the damp towel across your skin. Instead, you stare down at his fluffy hair, a smile stretching across your face.

“Gyeom,” you say softly as he fixes your pants back up, still refusing to look at you. Your fingers thread through his hair softly, “Gyeom.”

When he tilts his head up, he looks so worried. You feel your heart squeeze.

“Gyeom,” you smile softly, helping him back up to his feet. “I love you too.”

He blinks like he’s heard you wrong. “You love me too?”

You nod, giggling now. “I do. A lot.”

Yugyeom pulls you into a kiss.

“You love me!” he repeats against your lips and then he is kissing you again until you are both giggling against each other.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y’know the wildest thing still to happen to me on this hellsite was my first experience of sexting, sans nudes, that was done in front of at least 250-500 followers because of those horny anons i had in early 2013 when i was 17. instead of being exposed to it on my phone privately with a partner at that age, it was done publicly for the internet to see lmao. i remember begging the anons to stop and “come off anon” because i was “losing followers” at the time too bc i was so insecure about my follower count lmao. and then yeah when they came off anon they were both 28 years old.

to write the responses, i just consulted cosmo mag sex pages for ideas hoping that the anons would like the options i chose. in one i detailed doing anal- a sex act i hadn’t even done yet irl- let alone every other thing i suggested in them (head, idek long, drawn out foreplay, some stupid fancy sex moves that cosmo was all like “use these moves to spice up your sex life 🔥🔥”, sex in a bath, i’m pretty sure i had some lines about tying or handcuffing them to a bed (????) etc etc etc)….

when again, i had never even done any of those above sex acts in real life. i was a naive teen who was incredibly shy in regards towards her love life because she’d “never been kissed” and had never had the “hot emo boyfriend whose in a band and is covered in tattoos” she’d always wanted, let alone even a boyfriend that she had actually fucking liked (ie clear braces boy, for like a month in year 9/2010 vs the popular boys that made fun of her, that she always had unrequited crushes on)…. hell, my blog title when i first started on here in 2011 was “the perfect epitome of being forever alone” because of these very reasons. but here she was, writing explicit sex acts to strangers like she knew what the fuck she was doing, to an audience of 250-500 people- and then to fucking grown ass men in inboxes. i was just parroting the shit i’d read in cosmo (both sex advice and sometimes excerpts of erotica/“sexy, steamy reads” they had some months) and also heard repeatedly in the porn that my high school stalker/creeper at public school loved to show (harass) me with to flirt with me, whenever we were alone together at school in 2012/2013.

like you could tell how naive i was….. because i used ridiculous lines like “like a gentleman entranced, you lead me to the bath for our next foray” and dumbass prose-y things like that. because what the fuck does that even mean 😂😅????

and this is why i think minors should be careful with their online experiences. like yeah, you could say that i wasn’t a minor anymore- more of a “young adult”- who should of made the smart decision to not engage with these anons. but i was a kid. i thought it was fun. and when the dudes came off anon, i thought to myself “it’s not like i’m ever gonna meet them if i ever go to the US or puerto rico at any point. it’s not like that they’ll ever recognise me in person or ever reach out to me again in the future. i might as well do it.” and i did eventually end up ignoring the guys in my inbox, due to my mental health kinda plummeting from the middle til the end of 2013 because of my end of high school exams and stuff… and also the puerto rican guy’s infamously inappropriate “hot PE teacher fucks HOT female high school student in the girls change room showers” fantasy which fucking disgusted me, when he full well knew that i was STILL IN high school.

and obviously again, there’s the point about using the “block” button function. but as i’ve stated several times over my years on here, back in my early days of tumblr, i never wanted to block or unfollow people (even if they were trash like these two men), because it seemed so “mean” and “final”. obvs now i have no qualms about blocking people, and actively encourage younger people on here to use the block button with reckless abandon towards creepy people or people who can hurt them in some way. but to high school teenage me, the whole “using the block button” thing seemed to go against me being a “nice girl/person” so i never used it, no matter which social media platform i was on.

this is why i’m hella scared for young teen girls on tik tok wanting to have onlyfans accounts: because it’s where they’ll be exposed to ACTUAL CREEPS AND PREDATORS incredibly quickly; all because they can make money off selling images of just their feet or eventually their body….. depending on what these creepy strangers demand from them….. and they’ll feel like they’ll have to do it…. but to do it before you even start experimenting properly with relationships and sex is even worse. like. yeah. i’ve admitted before that i originally started this tumblr to possibly post nudes, to see if i’d get the positive feedback that i so desperately wanted/craved from the boys in my year at catholic school- eg. to be called “sexy”, “hot”, “fuckable” possibly “beautiful”- like some of the so called “popular girls” got on their hella basic bikini photos back then (like i remember one girl i knew ended up with like 500 likes and a fair amount of comments on one of her bikini pics and i was INCREDIBLY BITTER because not even a pic of me with a nice outfit on, my hair done and makeup on could EVER get those numbers, let alone even break over the double digits).

but i decided posting nudes or other explicit images on here was an absolute no go, because i realised that i never wanted people that i knew digging up barely clothed/naked pics of me and sending them to me all like “hey, is this you?” and then possibly mocking me, all because i would’ve been dumb enough to put my face in them probably at the time. now when i take nudes and send them, i never show my face. because i know now, that even in relationships, your partner can use nude pics as leverage for arguments or to abuse you in such a way that they’ll upload your pics without your knowledge to god knows where on the internet probably as a way to get back at you in a horrible breakup.

this is what i sincerely hope some young girls who ever contemplate starting onlyfans accounts take some time SERIOUSLY CONSIDER. please know that if you share shit on onlyfans, it can shared and re-shared (i think idek how OF works tbh) to god knows who- and eventually end up in the hands of people you know. i don’t fucking care if it’s a “good way to make money!” or if people think that im trying to stop teen girls from being “girl bosses” and the other dumb as fuck internet memes you want to throw at me. because this shit isn’t “haha internet meme funny” material. it’s some fucking serious stuff. and also, i’m not saying “don’t become a sex worker when you’re older” or whatever either. you’re free to make that choice when you’re in your 20s (no i even mean 17-19 year olds in this post as “young teen girls”- sorry you’re basically kids to me at almost 26). just please consider where the fuck your stuff can be shared to. who it can end up being shared with or to.

this is why i was so fucking adamant with my infamous old follower mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF that i personally would NOT consider becoming a camgirl for him or just generally… because i had no idea where the fuck my images or videos would end up. and do you know the places i’d never want them to fucking be??? in the hands of my high school stalker/creeper. in the hands of those two 28yo men from 2013 (who’d now be in there late 30s or early 40s). i absolutely don’t want them in the hands the mid-to-late 20s and early 30s men that that girl i met at public school in 2012 who was pissed that i didn’t believe that were “adults” because we were finally over the legal age of consent (16) in our state of australia, and so we were apparently fine to “fuck” literal grown ass men because “just fuck them and they’ll be nice to you!!” which i knew was fucking bullshit.

i absolutely don’t fucking want explicit videos/images of me ending up in “why the fuck won’t you let me give you “sex lessons” in the back of my car as a “favour” and as payment for teaching you how to drive you stupid, stuck up & frigid, virgin bitch!?” guy’s hands from 2014 (when i was 18/19 at the time and he was 25… he ended up being the first person of many i’d EVER block on social media lol). or i don't want them in the hands of those weird early 20s dudes (one of which was trying to set me up with his friend) who hit on me at 16/17 (2012) who were angry that i didn’t like and watch porn as much as they did…. and who promptly asked me at the end of their period of harassing of me: “do you know any sluts we could add?” because i kept refusing their suggestions etc.

hell, quite frankly i don’t even want them to go to mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF either, but the very few and far between nudes that i sent on snapchat to him back in 2016 are some nudes that i’d rather forget lmao. hell. i don’t even know if MAF ever deleted my nudes or shared them somewhere else or not, after he fucking wheedled them out of me with “i’ve followed you for 4 years, don’t be a shit! you owe me nudes!” so he’d just shut the fuck up about my social life decisions and leave me the fuck alone.

i don’t want ANY ONE of the guys i mentioned above to get their hands on photos of minors either…. because i definitely know my hs stalker/creeper would… because his fave “make her jealous” tactic that he’s always used on me is that “hey…. i’m dating a *insert teenage girl’s age here*! be fucking jealous that you don’t fucking have me and feel guilty that you won’t fuck me like this girl does!!!” just like he did in 2015, when i ran into him on the home from uni… when i turned 20 the next week and he turned 20 that december. at that time it was a 14yo girl he used as an example of him “dating”/“fucking” to make me jealous. instead, i was completely and utterly fucking disgusted. like any fucking sane and normal human being would/should be at that horrible age gap. that is literally a fucking child that he was fucking grooming. and we were literal adults. back the fuck away.

just please. PLEASE CONSIDER the types of people that trawl these kinds of sites and their intentions. please consider that you are young. very fucking young. you literally DO NOT need to upload nudes to the internet because it’s apparently a “lucrative” business. fuck the jokey “boss babe” rhetoric around it all the way to fucking hell.

because if you’re a minor: i do not want you to have your first experience of sexting or sending explicit images literally in front of god knows how many total strangers for the whole world to see (okay i know only fans is like subscriber/follower based or whatever. but i don’t care)…… even when you (depending how good you are with relationships etc) haven’t reached the common supposed milestones of your “first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner” or “first kiss” or have even “lost your virginity” (which isn’t real anyway- don’t buy this fucking bullshit)…. just like i stupidly did with my exposure to sexting here on my tumblr back in 2013. these people don’t/won’t give a flying fuck about your privacy or safety. they don’t/won’t give a fuck about your boundaries either.

please don’t possibly scar yourself for life, just because you’re being told that it’s a quick & convenient way to make some money for weirdos on the depths of the internet. you will regret it in future. just like i do now with mine. it should’ve been something personal between me and and a guy i trusted and liked at the time. not to some random 250-500 random strangers on this hellsite (okay the notes on these posts were literally single digits or non-existent, but still… and also some of my irl friends who had tumblr saw these posts as well) for a show….. and then privately with two 28yo literal grown ass men…. who should’ve been fucking hitting on women their own goddamned age and in their own countries and NOT a 17yo high school KID (at the time) from australia; who, now in her 20s, needs therapy to sort this shit out lmao. mind you they both reeled me in with the “you’re so mature for your age” bullshit line…. which i fell for a little bit, even if it did make me feel kinda gross at the time, too. don’t fall for that bullshit either.

[papermoonloveslucy]

MEET THE PRESS

August 3, 1969

You are clued into the frank and tough talk to come by the way Lucille Ball swipes away with her handkerchief at the flies threatening the hors d’oeuvres The kerchief almost snaps like a wet towel. 

The scene is the pool patio of her home on Beverly Hills’ Roxbury Drive and a cocktail party is in progress for visiting television editors. 

Lucy has just emerged from the main house. She wears a powder blue double-breasted slack suit and saucer-sized sun glasses. In the blazing sun her orange hair has the color intensity of hot coals. 

She has counted heads. Husband-producer Gary Morton is there. So are Desi Arnaz IV her son, and Lucy her daughter. And her TV side-kick Gale Gordon with his wife. Plus a half-dozen of her staff and CBS emissaries. There have been introductions all round to the newspaper types. It is time, she announces, to talk and she waves everybody into the big and comfortable pool house. A table has been positioned so that she can sit there presiding as she used to do at the stockholders’ meetings of the old Desilu Studios. 

Almost immediately some wag fields her the question: “Lucy do you run the show?” She flashes him that big innocent TV look of hers. A staff member jumps up “Let’s all answer that one for her” There is a resounding “YES” from family-and-cast. Everybody laughs uproariously.

Very few questions are required to prime the pump. Lucy, it seems, has some matters of personal irritation on her mind and as far as she is concerned they come tumbling out without any prodding from her would-be interrogators. 

First of all, she asks rhetorically, what’s all this business about whether she would retire? “I never said I wanted to quit or retire. There was a time when I was willing to quit but nobody asked me. Now I’ve set a date when I’ll retire” 

A lot of ears perk up Somebody asks slyly — when? She’s waiting for that. Her answer is smilingly emphatic: “When I drop dead in my tracks.” 

She turns then without anybody’s questioning to the matter of her longevity in television. This is her 18th year on the tube and it used to be talked about that she traded her popularity to CBS in return for its buying other shows produced by her company. This evokes an almost visible jet of steam out of the top of her carrot locks. “I never at any time sold any of the 20 shows our company produced on the basis of my returning each season. I’ve said that literally hundreds of times and nobody believed it.” 

She went on to make it clear that she also dislikes the “big business” image which has adhered to her over the years. “I never like to talk about big money. I make my deal and that’s all. It’s been mostly a matter of legal procedures.” 

As the star wades into these fiscal subjects your eye roams over the assemblage. Young Desi in tennis togs impassively studies the smoke curling up from a cigarette. Young Lucy clutches her hands around her knees and stares intently at her mother. Husband Gary sitting on a ledge at the back of the room swings his legs and smiles. 

There has been no mention of Desi the elder the former husband Lucy’s co-performer and co-founder of Desilu Studios (now sold). Earlier this writer had chatted briefly with young Desi. He said he saw his father off and on and spends his summers as a rule at the father’s beach home at Delmar, south of Los Angeles. 

The youngster asked if I knew his grandfather Dr. Desiderio Arnaz who lives in Coral Gables.  (1)

But back to Lucy She’s telling us how many years it took to realize that as Lucille Ball she had attained V.I.P. status.

She reviews the years she spent trying to make it in show business, first on the stage, then as a model, and finally in the movies. Much of the time she says she stagnated. Until television came along. 

“I never had any sense of importance. I was very pliable always willing to do what I was told It wasn’t until one day I saw in print somewhere some actress described as a ‘Lucille Ball type’ that I knew suddenly I was somebody and a part of the business.” 

From there on the interview jumps from subject to subject. 

I ask her whatever happened to the project Dean Martin’s producer Greg Garrison had for starring Martin, her, and Jackie Gleason in a revival of the musical “Guys and Dolls.”  (2)

“I never said I would do it. Garrison kept publicizing it, but he never cleared it with me. I do still want to do ‘Diamond Jim’ with Jackie It’s just a matter of finding the time.” (3)

A lady editor wants to know how Lucy keeps her sinuous figure. 

“I don’t particularly like food. I’m not very fond of meat, for example, except in the morning.” 

Which brings a snort of disgust from her husband. “Can you imagine what it’s like to have to watch her eating corned beef or hamburger at 6 o’clock in the morning?” 

The questions now go to the children. What are Desi’s plans? Does he want to make acting his future? “I want to be an actor for awhile but I don’t think I ever want to be one certain thing.” 

Young Lucy, who, at 18, is two years older than her brother, is more sure of her future “I’ll go to college for awhile but I like acting. I’ll stay at it if I can.” 

Would she somebody asks join the campus protest and carry a sign? Only if it says ‘wet paint’ quips she. 

Lucy now introduces her cast veteran, Gale Gordon. He pays her extravagant compliments and talks a bit about his radio and early television days. 

The interview’s late arrival is venerable George Marshall, who is now the show’s director. Lucy introduces him as “our sexy senior citizen.” Marshall goes back to the dawn of movies and is filled with fascinating anecdotes about his years in the business. (4)

The conversation turns to TV’s talk shows. Somebody suggests to Lucy that she would be a highly likely guest for Merv Griffin’s new show starting on CBS Aug 18. (5)

Lucy's answer comes lancing back “That’s what you think. I don’t like him.” Which rocks everybody back. Why not? “Because he doesn’t know how to interview. He’s rude to his guests and he monopolizes the conversation.” 

She doesn’t wait for the next question. “I’m wild about Dick Cavett (on ABC) I think he’s great And I told Bill Paley (board chairman of CBS) he should have him on our network. But Bill said ABC got him first and we’re out of luck.” (6)

Everybody is suddenly distracted by three teen-age girl fans leaning over a fence way up front. They’re begging to be allowed on the grounds. Morton jogs forward to shoo them away. 

“This happens all the time,” says Lucy. “My God they used to picnic right in front of the house until our police department stopped them. Jimmy Stewart, who lives up the street, finally told me how to keep them away. Turn on the lawn sprinklers.” 

Morton returns and takes everybody for a tour of their luxurious but very lived-in home. Lucy tells us a funny story about how Jack and Mary Benny had once been their next door neighbors sold their home then asked her to try to mediate a re-sale of the place back to them. Then we take our leave.

#    #    # FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) Dr. Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y Alberni II (1894-1973) was a Cuban politician and the father of Desi Arnaz. He graduated from the Southern College of Pharmacy in 1913 in Atlanta, Georgia. Desiderio Arnaz II was the youngest mayor of Santiago de Cuba (1923–32). When president Machado was overthrown in August 1933, Arnaz was arrested and jailed. Six months later, he was allowed to go into exile. He married Dolores "Lolita" de Acha y de Socias in 1916 and had one son, Desiderio "Desi" Arnaz III. He later had a daughter, Connie Arnaz (1932), with Anne M. Wilson, whom he married in 1941.

(2) Guys & Dolls was a 1950 stage musical by Frank Loesser, based on the stories by Damon Runyon starring Robert Alda, who appeared on several episodes of “The Lucy Show” and “Here’s Lucy”.  It was filmed by MGM in 1955. During that time, Lucy and Desi were also under contract to MGM, so they prevailed upon “I Love Lucy” to insert a clip from the film into “Lucy and the Dummy” (ILL S5;E3). After its initial airing on October 17, 1955, the clip was removed from the film print, and for legal reasons, has never been restored. It is unclear whether Garrison’s project with Martin, Ball, and Gleason would have been a film revival, or a stage production. Whatever it was to be, Lucy wanted to have no part of it, perhaps remembering the rigors of performing on stage in Wildcat (1960). During her film career, Ball was in two films based on Damon Runyon material, The Big Street (1942), a film she claimed as her favorite, and Sorrowful Jones (1949). She also did a radio version of Runyon’s “Tight Shoes” in 1942. Ball and Gleason would have been cast as Miss Adelaide and Nathan Detroit, while Dean Martin would have played Sky Masterson, the romantic lead. Those roles were played by Vivian Blaine, Frank Sinatra, and Marlon Brando in the film. Obviously, the project never came to be. 

(3) “Diamond Jim” was a project that Lucy dearly wanted to make with Gleason. He would play Diamond Jim Brady (1856-1917) to her Lillian Russell. Ball even went so far as to have a script written to further grab Gleason’s attention. Despite their best intentions, Gleason and Ball’s schedules never allowed for enough time to make the film. 

(4) George Marshall (1891-1975) had directed Lucille Ball in Valley of the Sun (1942) and Fancy Pants (1950).  He was considered an expert at location shooting, so when “Here’s Lucy” wanted to spend the first four episodes of Season 2 on location, Marshall was hired as director. He stayed on for seven more episodes of the sitcom before bowing out. 

(5) Despite Lucille Ball’s rather harsh public assessment of Merv Griffin (1925-2007) at this August 1969 press party, Ball appeared on “The Merv Griffin Show” four times between 1971 and 1980! During her first appearance, the aforementioned George Marshall was also a guest! 

(6) Lucille did seem to enjoy doing the talking to Dick Cavett, although she only got to do his chat show once, on March 7, 1974, in conjunction with her press tour for Mame. 

[ts1989fanatic]

Every Taylor Swift Album Ranked

We revisited each of the singer’s original studio albums and ranked them from best to worst.

FEATURESEvery Taylor Swift Album Ranked

We revisited each of the singer’s original studio albums and ranked them from best to worst.

By Slant Staff on July 6, 2021

Taylor Swift started off as a country artist at a time when the genre was both less respectful and accommodating of the voices of women than at any other point in its storied history. The singer’s first four albums barely scan as country music in a meaningful way, instead embracing her preternatural gifts for pop conventions, and her output has gotten stronger the more openly she’s embraced those skills. In the 15 years since the single “Tim McGraw” launched Swift to country stardom, she’s jettisoned the genre’s ill-fitting signifiers and overcome the limitations of her early recordings—improvements captured in her “Taylor’s Version” re-recordings of those albums as a powerful statement of artistic agency.

As Swift takes an apparent break from new music to re-record those early releases, including Fearless (Taylor’s Version) and this fall’s highly anticipated Red redux, we revisited each of her original studio albums and ranked them from best to worst.

9. Taylor Swift (2006)

Though she was praised for her songwriting right out of the gate, what Swift’s self-titled debut truly shows in hindsight is how diligently she’s worked to hone her craft over the years. Some of her trademarks—her gift for melody, her third-act POV reversals—were already present here, but there’s a sloppiness to the writing that she’s long since cleaned up. Whether that’s emphasizing the wrong syllables of words because she hadn’t quite mastered the meter of language (most notable on “Teardrops on My Guitar”) or mixing metaphors (on “Picture to Burn” and the otherwise catchy “Our Song”), there’s a lack of polish and editing on Taylor Swift

8. Fearless (2008)

Nearly every track on Swift’s sophomore effort, Fearless, builds to a massive pop hook. But while her grasp of song structure at this point in her career suggested an innate talent for how to develop a melody, Fearless also highlights Swift’s then-limited repertoire and lack of creativity in constructing her narratives of doe-eyed infatuations and first loves gone wrong. It’s admirable that she tries to incorporate more sophisticated elements into a few of the songs here, but dancing with or kissing someone in the rain is a default image that crops up with nearly the same distracting frequency as references to princesses, angels, and fairy tales. Fearless, however, just as strongly made the case that Swift had the goods for a long, rich career. The bridge to “Fifteen” includes a great, revealing line about a friend’s lost innocence (“And Abigail gave everything/She had to a boy/Who changed his mind/And we both cried”), while the playful melody of “Hey Stephen” captures the essence of what makes for indelible teen-pop.

7. Speak Now (2010)

Swift’s third album, Speak Now, is problematic in precisely the same ways that its predecessors are, but there isn’t a song here that isn’t an absolute wonder of technical construction. Perhaps even more impressive is Swift’s mastery of song structure. Consider how the instrumentation drops out during the last two words of the hook in “Last Kiss,” allowing the singer’s breathy vocal delivery to bear the entirety of the song’s emotional weight, or how a simple acoustic guitar figure on “Enchanted” slowly crescendos behind each repetition of the line “I was enchanted to meet you.” Unfortunately, the greater complexity and range found in Swift’s sound and in her song constructions doesn’t necessarily translate to her songwriting. Her narrators often seem to lack insight because Swift writes with the point of view that hers is the only story to be told, which makes songs like “Dear John” and “Better Than Revenge” come across as shallow and shortsighted. And though she does vary her phrasing in ways that attempt to mask her limited voice, Swift is still noticeably off-pitch at least once on every song on the album.

6. Red (2012)

Considering that Swift’s previous material was almost always better when she tossed the ill-fitting country signifiers and focused on her uncanny gift for writing pop hooks, Red was a smart, if overdue, move for the singer. The album plays as a survey course in contemporary pop, and Swift is game to try just about anything, from the uninhibited dance-pop of standout “Starlight” to the thundering heartland rock of “Holy Ground.” The tracks that work best are those on which the production is creative and modern in ways that are in service to Swift’s songwriting. The distorted vocal effects and shifts in dynamics on “I Knew You Were Trouble” heighten the sense of frustration that drives the song, and the driving rhythm section on “Holy Ground” reflects Swift’s reminiscence of a lover who “took off faster than a green light, go.” Not all of the songs here are so keenly observed—“State of Grace” and “I Almost Do” lack the specificity that’s one of Swift’s songwriting trademarks, while the title track underwhelms with its train of pedestrian similes and metaphors—but if Red is ultimately too uneven to be a truly great pop album, its highlights were career-best work for Swift at the time.

5. Lover (2019)

Swift’s seventh album, Lover, lacks a unified sonic aesthetic, ostensibly from trying to be something to everyone. The title track, whose lilting rhythm and reverb-soaked drums and vocals are reminiscent of Mazzy Star’s ‘90s gem “Fade Into You,” and the acoustic “Soon You’ll Get Better,” a tribute to Swift’s mother, hark back to the singer’s pre-pop days, while “I Think He Knows” and “False God” evoke Carly Rae Jepsen’s brand of ‘80s R&B-inflected electro-pop. When it comes to things other than boys, though, Swift has always preferred to dip her toes in rather than get soaking wet; her transformation from country teen to pop queen was, after all, a decade in the making. Less gradual was Swift’s shift from political agnostic to liberal advocate. Her once apolitical music is, on Lover, peppered with references to America’s current state of affairs, both thinly veiled (“Death by a Thousand Cuts”) and more overt (“You Need to Calm Down”). “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” however, is her stock in trade, a richly painted narrative punctuated by cool synth washes and pep-rally chants, while “The Archer” is quintessential Swift: wistful, minimalist dream pop that displays her willingness to acknowledge and dismantle her own flaws, triggers, and neuroses.

4. Reputation (2017)

In the run-up to the release of her sixth album, Reputation, Swift was excoriated by fans and foes alike for too often playing the victim. The album’s lyrics only serve to bolster that perception: Swift comes off like a frazzled stay-at-home mom scolding her disobedient children on “Look What You Made Me Do” and “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” But it’s her willingness to portray herself not as a victim, but the villain of her own story that makes Reputation such a fascinatingly thorny glimpse inside the mind of pop’s reigning princess. Swift has proven herself capable of laughing at herself, thereby defusing the criticisms often levied at her, but with Reputation she created a larger-than-life caricature of the petty, vindictive snake she’s been made out to be. By album’s end, Swift assesses her crumbling empire and tattered reputation, discovering redemption in love—only Reputation isn’t so much a rebirth as it is a retreat inward. It marks a shift from the retro-minded pop-rock of 2014’s 1989 toward a harder, more urban aesthetic, and Swift wears the stiff, clattering beats of songs like “…Ready for It?” like body armor.

3. Evermore (2020)

Evermore is at once as confident and complete a statement as Folklore. Certainly, it matters that the two albums were born of the protracted isolation of the Covid-19 pandemic and that collaborators like Bon Iver and the National’s Aaron Dessner figure prominently on both. But Evermore finds Swift digging further into her explorations of narrative voice and shifting points of view, taking bigger risks in trying to discover how the newfound breadth of her songwriting could possibly reconcile with the arc of her career. What makes Evermore an essential addition to her catalog is her willingness to tell others’ stories with the same insight and compassion with which she’s always told her own. And on this album, in particular, the stories she tells are about how her narrators’ choices impact others, often in ways that cause irreparable harm.

2. 1989 (2014)

Swift’s 1989 severed whatever vestiges of her country roots remained on 2012’s Red, replacing acoustic guitars and pedal steel with multi-layered synthscapes, drum machines, and densely packed vocal tracking. Swift, of course, got her start writing astutely observed country ballads, and these songs bolster her trademark knack for lyric-crafting with maximalist, blown-out pop production courtesy of collaborators Max Martin and Jack Antonoff. The album’s standout tracks retain the narrative detail and clever metaphor-building that distinguished Swift’s early songs, even amid the diversions wrought by the aggressive studio production on display throughout. Songs like “I Know Places” ride a reggae swagger and trap-influenced snare beats before launching into a soaring, Pat Benatar-esque chorus. It’s an effortless fusion that, like much of 1989, displays Swift’s willingness to venture outside her comfort zone without much of a safety net, and test out an array of sonic experiments that feel both retro and of the moment.

1. Folklore (2020)

Folklore is neither a culmination of Swift’s career to date nor a pivot in a new direction. She’s doing exactly what she’s always done: offering a collection of incisive, often provocative songs that incorporate authentic, first-person details and leaving others to argue over specific genre signifiers. Song for song, the album finds Swift at a new peak in her command of language. While tracks like “Cardigan” and “Invisible Strings” hinge on protracted metaphors, “Mad Woman” and “Peace” are blunt and plainspoken. In every instance, what’s noteworthy is Swift’s precision in communicating her exact intent. That she employs her long-established songwriting tropes in novel ways is truly the most significant development here. She’s mined this type of melancholy tone before, but never for the full length of an album and certainly never with such a range of perspectives. It isn’t the weight of the subject matter alone that makes Folklore feel so vital—it’s the exemplary caliber of her writing. The album finds Swift living up to all of the praise she earned for her songwriting earlier in career.

ts1989fanatic not sure I 100% agree with their ranking order and some of the snark on reputation is a little OTT but overall it’s not bad

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Ch4

Chapter 4: The Duke

Kai sighed in relief as he dropped the bags at his feet and plopped down next to the equally exhausted Lloyd on the side of the town square fountain. The large, glistening fountain outside of city hall in the dead center of the entire city. Built only a handful of years ago, this fountain at the old town center was there to represent the importance of all generations, both young and old, and what they have to offer. Its position within the city was meant to represent the strong mind and balanced way of life the city strived for.

It was designed by Nya.

She had wonderfully captured the natural beauty of the region and used a personal style to convey her vision in this piece of art. Every element was crafted and created with deluxe materials from local suppliers, ensuring this monument will remain an important aspect of the community spirit for many more years.

"Think we got enough food?" He teased.

"Well, we got everything on Nya's list." Lloyd smiled. "You remembered the chocolate right?"

"Yes, I remembered the chocolate." Kai rolled his eyes playfully. Lloyd smiled and dug into his big brother's bag before pulling out a folder and opened. He thumbed through the pages until he found a small back of stapled pages and pulled out the top one, smiling before placing the pack in Kai's lap.

"Care to show your favorite little brother what you've been working on?" He flashed a bright smile and his infamous pleading look.

"Maybe later," Kai replied calmly, earning him a look of pure shock from the blond boy. Kai could never resist Lloyd's babyface when he wanted something. Kai just laughed and scooped his collection of papers in his hands before looking at the one Lloyd picked out. The poem was written in his hand above the image of a field of roses. At the heart was an ancient castle that dated back to the early 18th century. The only difference was this castle was pure white, each stone chiseled from stabs of pristine marble.

Lloyd leaned over his brother's shoulder, immediately engrossed in the detailed sketch of his big brother's.

"Jeez Kai, you could give Nya a run for her money."

"It's just a sketch."

"It's still awesome! Now, can I see the poem or not?" Lloyd pleaded with a whine in his voice.

"No!"

"But it's amazing!" He begged and giggled as Kai blushed.

"You think everything I write is amazing." He smiled, rolling his eyes.

"Because they are!" He insisted, kneeling over the side of the fountain to dig through Kai's folder. "Didn't you say that one goes with another poem or passage? Here it is!" He cheered in victory pulling out another passage Kai wrote and placed in his lap. "This one! I remember cuz when you were reading you had this really dreamy look on your face." His smile almost split in half at the dark blush suddenly covering Kai's face. He snatched both things away and stuffed them back in his folder.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, green bean." Kai insisted with a small smirk. It would have convinced anyone else despite the faint scarlet dusting Kai's cheeks, but not to Lloyd and Nya.

"Yes, you do! You wrote that about the Dragon Lord didn't you?" He smirked playfully. The brunette's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at Lloyd's innocently smirking face.

"How do you know that?!" He spluttered, completely flabbergasted. The youngest Smith almost burst out laughing at his older brother's panic.

"I didn't, but it's written all over your face!" He gasped in between laughs. Growling in defeat, Kai ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"Yes, they were inspired by the fairy tale, but no it's not about him, I wrote them after I had a dream." He explained as Lloyd blinked in bewilderment. "I know silly, right?"

"No! I wanna hear it!" He insisted widening his eyes. Rolling his eyes again, knowing Lloyd wouldn't let the subject drop, he continued.

"Alright, well, every night, I dream I'm in a field of flowers outside the castle and while I'm there, I hear a song playing and I follow it; then I see a man standing there holding the most beautiful music box I'd ever seen."

"Is he handsome?" Lloyd asked, teasingly, but Kai chose to ignore that question.

"The music was so lovely; it reminded me of the songs Mom and Dad used to sing to us, but in the most amazing voice I've ever heard." He sighed in awe. "The second I woke up, I just wrote the poem down and then I just couldn't get that man out of my head; I kept dreaming about him more and more." He explained unwittingly, letting his hidden passions seep into his voice; something that didn't go unnoticed by Lloyd. His smile only widened until it nearly split his face in half.

"You're in love~" He sang and Kai almost fell off the fountain. "You're in love with your dream prince!" He teased, with a smirk that put even his siblings to shame as he leaned over his older brother. "And don't try and deny it either, that might work on someone else, but not someone who's known you as long as I have!"

"The Dragon Lord is only a fairy tale, he's not real." Kai sighed, saddened, looking heavenward for assistance to his dilemma.

"Don't worry, bro; I'm sure you'll find your true love." Lloyd encouraged, leaning against the brunette's shoulder. Kai chuckled and ran his fingers through Lloyd's blond hair.

"You're a hopeless romantic, green bean."

"Hopeful." He corrected mischievously. Both boys broke into a fit of laughter until they were interrupted by the sound of a carriage and horses pulling to a stop. Just like that, everyone in town stopped to carry out the weekly ritual that was as practiced and routine as everything else in Ignacia. Everyone was more than happy to greet the two people that were exiting the carriage. The first to exit the expensive, flamboyant carriage was a middle-aged woman wearing a simple but expensive pale green dress.

Her long black hair was tied in a high ponytail by a pretty dark green ribbon, while her toxic green eyes glowed against her deathly-pale skin.

She was a noble maiden without a doubt, but she was not the reason everyone had stopped to stare. The man she turned and bowed her head to was. The brothers recognized his walk before he even stepped out of the carriage. He looked nobler than the woman. The man stepped out of the carriage adorned in a black suit that looked like the most expensive embroidery anyone had ever seen and a necklace of the finest craftsmanship. The outfit was only a simple outing suit but it was still the most expensive thing either brother had ever seen.

The pants alone probably cost more than their entre combined wardrobes.

His white gloves were molded the man's perfect hand and the suit hugged his muscles tightly. The newly polished shoes shined as he stepped down from the carriage. Men and women became lovestruck at his appearance and some people were instantly struck with jealousy or admiration. That combined with perfectly smooth, unblemished white skin, a perfect face, long jet black hair with a green streak in it, and ghostly green eyes, Duke Morro Vento was in every inch a fairy tale prince.

After all, Morro's family had founded the town and still owned it to this day.

Kai never realized how rehearsed Morro's walk was. It was coy and arrogant, just like his glances and his audacious smile. Morro must have returned from a successful trip because he seemed more arrogant today. Kai's gaze turned to Lloyd who nodded in understanding. Both boys picked up their books and the groceries, ready to leave. But a second too late, the duke's gaze found them and he smiled, a seductive smirk that Kai hated more than anything else.

Again he strolled over, cutting off their only exit before the two boys could sneak away.

"Hello, Kai." He smiled sweetly, but the teen saw right through it.

"That's Mr. Smith, your grace." He retorted with a hard gaze. At one point he may have been allowed Morro to call him by his first name, but he had lost that right years ago. Morro's predatory gaze immediately hardened when the brunette used his title instead of his name, though he'd told him time and time again he was allowed to. Kai simply refused to. It was so hard to believe that this arrogant and pompous man obsessed with luxury and social position was the same sweet and free-spirited kid the Smiths knew as children.

Morro's grandfather and their father Ray had been close friends for years.

It was solely because of Morro's grandfather the family moved to this town in the first place. Morro's grandfather had been Duke of the city and the peasants for almost sixty years. He had made it perfectly clear he was just as much a citizen of the town as the rest of the valley. He never cared for social status or reform and only for the well-being of the town and the citizens. As a result, the two families had been quite close. Morro was only two or three years older than Kai.

Sometimes their parents joked about the two of them getting married one day.

This was something Morro's parents took to heart for the future, especially as the children entered adulthood. Ray never considered the idea, especially since he knew none of the children seemed to like Morro in that manner. But once Morro's grandfather died and Ray fell ill, everything changed. Once Morro and his family took the role of Duke and Duchess, and delighted in the royal lifestyle, the Smiths saw less and less of Morro. He'd become too comfortable in the position of his family.

"How many times must I ask you to call me Morro, Kai?" The Duke smiled sweetly, hoping for a romantic response. The brunette just rolled his eyes and gathered his papers together before tying his folder closed. He lifted it to put it away but Morro suddenly snatched it.

"What are these, beautiful?" He asked with mock curiosity, flipping through the papers.

"Your grace, please return my property." He said and it took every ounce of Kai's willpower to remain civil. It was for the sake of his family's good name that he didn't snatch it from his hands and scold him like a child.

"Did you write all these, darling? You must have way too much time on your hands if you waste it scribbling away and reading books." He laughed and Kai growled at the mockery in Morro's voice.

"That's not true!" Lloyd exclaimed and was on his feet faster than anyone expected of the young boy. "Kai's an amazing writer, if you even bothered to read them instead of spending all your time in that stupid shack you call a palace, you'd recognize some good writing." He growled at the duke. A few eyes widened and jaws dropped at Lloyd's comment, but Morro paid the boy no mind and snapped the folder closed, holding it as if it were a discarded garment.

"Oh darling, you have so much promise; don't you think it is about time you got your head out of those silly stories and started paying attention to more important things?" He asked and his voice held a seductive purr that made Kai shiver in aggravation. "I mean, the whole town is talking about it! You spend all your time working at that little shop or reading, it is such a shame." He spoke in such a dreary tone as if Kai's life was that of an unfortunate pauper.

Kai closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.

He let the duke rant, knowing full well he wouldn't care if he was paying attention to him or not. It had been this way since Morro became the Duke. He accepted the position with a smile and had since turned his ambitions to accustoming Kai to the royal life. The trio lost touch with him as a result, especially Kai, who rejected the idea of the rich and nobility; preferring a life of freedom away from petty, materialistic things. After all, he was perfectly happy living with his siblings where the three could carry out their dreams.

Of course, Morro didn't notice or even care.

"Of course, if you were married to a more... privileged person you wouldn't have to work a day in your life." Morro grinned as his emerald eyes fixed in a cruel seductive glint and met Kai's amber orbs.

"Marriage?" Kai repeated as his eyes widened. "I don't think so Morro, I like working and besides, I don't want to marry just anyone; now, please return my folder." He ordered, attempting to mask the hostility in his voice, holding out his hand.

"Oh, but it wouldn't be just anyone." Morro continued, ignoring the brunette, and held the folder out of his reach so Kai's gaze was fixed on him. "You of all people deserve far more than just anyone; you deserve someone beautiful, wealthy, well-respected-"

"Those are all material things, Morro, not what you should be looking for in marriage." Lloyd cut him off, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"Give me my folder back, Duke Vento."

"You need someone who's known you since you arrived in this town, who's courted you for years." He smirked as he leaned closer to the brunette, irritation marring the seductive charm.

"I won't ask you again Morro, now stop acting childish and give me my stuff back!" Kai thundered in a harsh tone. Taken aback by the scolding and the looks of the townsmen, he regained his composure and with as much dignity as he could muster returned the folder to Kai.

"Very well, we'll talk later than; come along, Bansha, let us return home." He smiled as he gestured to the raven-haired girl, who followed obediently. Kai's amber eyes were almost red with rage until Lloyd pulled on his arm a bit. Kai's gaze turned to his little brother's curious stare.

"Is he really so naïve that he can't tell you're ignoring his flirting on purpose, or is he just acting?" He asked as he cocked his head cutely, making Morro suddenly freeze in his tracks and Kai burst into laughter, his anger forgotten. Morro turned around with a mortified look on his face. Did Kai's brother just insult him? Without even trying?

"How dare you!" He snapped, pointing accusingly, his composure shattered.

"Now, now, my lord." Kai chuckled. "He's only joking, come on Lloyd, let's get home before Nya wonders where we've been." He smirked and Lloyd smiled as the two scooped up the groceries and books and strolled past the duke and the noblewoman and down the street towards home. Once they were out of earshot of town and Morro, Kai turned to his smiling little brother.

"Thank you for that, green bean; I swear I would have beat the crap outta him if he called me 'darling' one more time."

"I don't know why you put up with him!" Lloyd asked with a snort. "You'd think it would finally penetrate that thick skull of his that you're not interested!"

"I doubt that." Kai sighed, annoyed. "Morro never was one to give up." He added and he knew that was true from experience. Morro had waited and tried for years to coax him to his side. "Hopefully when Nya wins this year, we'll finally have enough money to leave this miserable place." He smiled, confidently.

"I hope so!" Lloyd cheered. "Even I'm getting sick of this town, but I'd miss Dr. Saunders and Brad." He admitted. Kai hummed in understanding as he looked at the large clock tower and his eyes widened.

"Oh shit! Look what time it is!"

"We didn't even make dinner yet and you know what happened last time we got home late?" The youngest Smith groaned as he turned to his middle sibling with concern.

"Don't worry, Nya's a smart girl; she's not dumb enough to repeat her mistakes," Kai assured him. No sooner had Kai said those words, however, an explosion erupted from the Smith home, and thick black smoke pooled from the chimney and kitchen windows...

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

Sonic getting winter clothes for the first tome with Maddie because she isn’t going to let him freeze.

@picklesrgreat22

I’m going to be combining these two asks together since they both take place in winter anyway.

Ok Hoo boy this took a looong time to write. But i hope you guys enjoy it! I'm gonna make this one a sequel to the previous prompt I did since that took place in the fall and this one in the winter~.

This Definitely Beats the Cave.

=======

Cold......

I feel so cold.....

Why is it so cold.....?

I haven’t felt cold this intense since.....

The cave.

The cave was always this cold during this time of year.

But I’m not in the cave anymore....

Right?

Feeling a brisk chill in the room woke Sonic from his dreamless sleep, looking around squinting at the light peeking through his curtains.

“Oh, I’m in my room.” He assured himself as he suddenly shivered as curled his body in.

“Why is it so cold in here?” He thought as he tried to find a warm spot under the covers.

He pulled the thick covers closer to his head and curled up underneath to hide away from the cold and try to go back to sleep until he heard the faint voices of Tom and Maddie coming from the kitchen downstairs.

“Typical Saturday” he thought as he slowly woke from his drowsy state. Tom usually had Saturday’s off while Maddie had to work at the veterinary. Since she was still here, she must’ve taken off as well.

“Tom always makes pancakes his ‘famous’ banana pancakes on Saturday.” He smiled slightly as his ear flicked towards the sound of sizzling from the frying pan downstairs.

It’s weird to think that only 7 months ago, he had his heroic battle with the eccentric scientist, Dr. Eggman or more formally known as Dr. Robotnik, but also with it being 6 1/2 months since the day he was taken in by the Wachowski’s, becoming an official member of their family.

Groaning, Sonic pushed the comforter off him as he quickly grabbed a smaller blanket from the corner of his bed and wrapped it around his tiny body. Making his way to the headboard of his race car bed, he wiped away the fog in his window to look outside.

As he went to look, he squinted his eyes against the morning rays coming through his window.

“Geez why is it so bright out today? It’s only 7:15.”

Rubbing his eyes, he looked out again to see frost patterns on the window and snow.....falling?

“It’s snowing?”

Sonic’s face lit up with excitement as he felt his little tails wag back and forth. Actual snow!

It’s been so long since he’s seen this much snow in Green Hills, during this time of year, it was just freezing outside but this year must be different. It must be a new-

His train of thought stopped as he suddenly realized what month it was. The young hedgehog jumped off his bed and zoomed over to his calendar to where the date was circled and words were in red ink.

Christmas Eve

“Oh my gosh” he said shocked as he went to put on his slippers and open the attic door. “I can’t believe I forgot what today is!” As he open up the door, he quickly rolled down the steps in his ball form to the first floor.

Once he got to the bottom, he uncurled and rubbed his head in annoyance. “We really need to get those stairs carpeted.”

Standing up to find his slipper, which had fallen off when he rolled down the stairs, he heard someone calling from the kitchen.

“Sonic?” Maddie called over the volume of the radio. “You okay sweetie?”

“Yeah I’m ok! You gotta tell Tom that he really needs to make these stairs carpeted!”

Tom’s voice cuts in immediately afterwards. “I kept telling you not to roll down them like that Sonic! They’re not designed for stuff like that.”

“Well someone needs to change that rule.” Grudgingly he sprinted over to the table where Maddie was sitting, who was writing out an email for work while Tom was flipping the pancakes on the stove, humming along to the Christmas music on the radio. The newly decorated tree tucked in the corner of the living room, filled with ornaments and family trinkets as the lights dimly glowed.

Maddie smiled and rubbed his head as he sat down next to him before going back to her computer, continuing to talk as she typed.

“So how you feeling knowing what today is?”

Swinging his legs, he looked at her with excitement. “It’s pretty exciting! I’ve never celebrated a holiday like this before.” Pausing as he petted Ozzie’s head as he made his way over to the table.

“I mean yeah I’ve heard about it so many times before from overhearing other people but actually getting that chance to celebrate it? I’m all for it!”

Maddie smiled as she continued to listen to the young teen’s ramblings of how the kids at the school told him about the traditions they’re families do to leaving out milk and cookies for an elderly man that breaks into your house through the chimney to leave presents underneath your tree.

“I mean I don’t get why he comes into people’s house while they’re sleeping, gives us so much gifts but instead of maybe, I don’t know ARREST HIM? all we give him in return is milk and cookies?”

As Maddie went to answer, but Tom beat her to it as he entered the room carry a plate full of banana pancakes and a pitcher of orange juice.

“I mean I guess that’s why he wears a red suit all the time.” He pauses as he sets the food down on the table. “Once he’s caught, he’ll be caught red handed.”

Pausing from her typing, Maddie looked up with a smile and shook her head while Sonic just looked on with a disgusted look straight at Tom.

“Why? Why must you always be so into the puns?”

Pouring the orange juice into Sonic’s cup, he simply shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just a real punny guy.” He replied as he looked up with sly grin.

Sonic threw back his head, grabbing his ears as he groaned. “UGH MADDIE PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP!”

Tom cracked up with laughter at Sonic’s reaction while Maddie placed her head in her hands, her head shaking but laughing silently as well.

Ozzie looked on at them from the corner of the room, tilting his head in curiosity.

=======

Once the dishes were cleaned up, Tom and Maddie went back upstairs while Sonic zipped over towards the window as he dried his still damp hands, watching the snow falling gently outside. “Man i can’t wait to get out there.” he said quietly as he placed his hand under his chin, arm resting on the windowsill.

“I know what you’re thinking but you’re not going outside just yet.” Maddie’s voice coming from behind him, sounding stern.

Turning around, he saw her with her kneeling against the counter, hands behind her back but her face was filled with seriousness.

“Aww why not yet? I helped clean up and i did my chores yesterday so I didn’t have to do them today!” He pressed, walking towards her.

She tapped her fingers against the counter, tilting her head in surprise at his outburst. “Well probably it’s because you don’t have a warm coat on?”

He went to respond back, but paused in realizing that she was right. Other than that nice red scarf he got back in the fall from his cousin Jojo, he didn’t have any actual winter wear for the snow.

Going outside during this time of year was always difficult when he lived in his cave, but due to his speed, he was always in and out before the cold would really get to him. Even when the cave was colder than usual, he would simply roll in a ball and burrow into layers of clothes that he found during he year until the morning.

Looking up at Maddie, he sighed in defeat. “Ok yeah I don’t have any warm clothes, it just never seemed like an issue until now.“ He mumbled as he stared down at the floor, crossing his arms and rubbing them with his hands.

Maddie, kneeling down placed and hand on his shoulder, the other hand still behind her back. “Well we can start now.” She said with a smile as she revealed a neatly wrapped package from behind her back.

Sonic looked on in shock at the package, taking gently from her hands, sitting down and eagerly ripping into the paper.

Once he opened it, what he saw brought the biggest smile on his face. Inside was a zippered lavender puffer with dark orange snow pants that was just about his size. He quickly grabbed the coat and zipped it up around his body while struggling to put on the pants and walk at the same time.

Moving his arms around, he looked at himself in the reflection of the hallway mirror, marveling at the warmth he was feeling from the material of the outfit.

In the reflection, he could see Maddie smiling at him and he turned around, grinning at her.

“I love it! It’s so warm makes funny noises when I move my arms!” He says as he demonstrates with said promised noise.

Laughing softly, she kneels down to his height and adjusts his coat.

“That’s good to hear. You can consider this an early Christmas present since you can’t wait to get outside.” She looked down at the box on the floor.

“Oh! You almost forgot about this.” She reaches inside to pull out a dark blue beanie winter hat.

“I wanted to get you a hat that’ll stay on your head when you run and due to the quills on your head being really big.” She jokingly said as she snapped the buckle under his chin.

Noticing his silence, she glances at his face, seeing his eyes well up before he quickly wipes them away to smile at her again. “Thank you” his voice cracked with emotion. Maddie smiled as she placed a hand on his cheek caressing it, causing him to close his eyes as he leans into her gentle touch.

“It’s no problem, sweetie.”

Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, the two looked up to see Tom in full snow gear complete with goggles and mask.

“Alright!” His voice muffled by the scarf around his face. “Let’s brave this weather!”

=======

Clapping his hands together, Tom walked down the driveway with Sonic and Maddie close behind him while Ozzie was jumping around in the blankets of snow on the lawn.

Other than the sound of their feet crunching against the snow, the whole woods felt so quiet. Barely any birds chirping, no sounds of cars driving on the roads in the distance, heck they wasn’t even any snow tracks of the raccoons near the garbage cans.

Turing around to face the two, Tom slapped his arms to his side, putting on a goofy sergeant-esque voice. “All right troopers, our main objective right now is to clear this driveway till there’s no more speck on snow on it. Do I make myself clear?”

Maddie looked at him with one eyebrow raised, hands on her hips while Sonic wasn’t paying him no mind, staring up at the sky and trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue.

Clearing his throat, he repeated it again but this time raising his voice louder.

“I SAID DO I MAKE MYSELF CLE-“

“Yes Thomas!” “Geez we heard you donut lord!”

“Good, now let’s get to work soldiers!” Watching him as he marched towards the end of the driveway, Maddie turned to see Sonic kneeling down near a fresh pile of snow.

He seemed to be placing handprints in the snow, making each one till they all formed a circle with the palms facing the center and the fingers facing outward.

Walking over and kneeling down, she watched as he then drew a circle in the center and used his pointer finger to place holes in the center of it.

Once he finished his new art piece, he kneeled back on his knees smiling fondly at it before his face dropped and his mouth became a tight line. Maddie, noticing this placed a hand on his back.

“You ok?”

He looked up, face never changing as he gazed out onto the snow covered lawn.

“I....used to do this during the winters when I lived in my cave, before I met you and Tom.” He let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at the hand prints. “It would remind me of the flowers that grew in my old home.” He paused, making his hands on his knees into fists, a few blue sparks started flickering from his hat. “They remind me of the flower I last gave to....her.” Maddie felt her heart skip a beat as she well knew who he was talking about.

After Sonic came to live with them. She quickly learned from Tom of the other world where the young teen had originally came from, why he had to leave and who he had to leave behind in order to be safe from harm.

Pulling him into a side hug, she heard Tom’s footsteps crunching against the snow before feeling his arm wrap around her back and seeing him kneel next to Sonic. He lifted his chin to meet Sonic’s eye. “I know Longcalw would be happy for where you are now bud. I sure know we both are.”

Sonic gave a small grin as closed his eyes and melted into their embrace, the sparks quickly fading away.

The three stayed in silence for awhile before the sound of Ozzie’s barking caught they’re attention, as he was trying to chase a squirrel up a tree but only to end up on his back in the snow.

Shaking his head at the dog, Tom stood up to go back shoveling the driveway when he looked down at the hand prints again.

After a second, a thought popped into his mind. “Hey Sonic? You still up on adding something to your bucket list?”

Sonic perked up looking up at him with interest. “You know I’m always up for that challenge.”

Nodding in agreement, he walked out into the part of the lawn where no prints were visible with Sonic walking a foot behind him. Maddie brushing off the snow from her pants and headed back inside the house, calling Ozzie to come inside.

“Ok so this is something I used to do with all the kids when it would snow.”

Crossing his arms, Sonic looked on in confusion as Tom raised his arms....onlu to fall straight back in the snow.

Alarmed he quickly ran to his side, only to see that he started to move his arms and legs back and forth. “We call these snow angels!” He yelled over the sound of his coat against the snow.

Intrigued, he began to sit in the snow, copying Tom’s movements and staring up in the cloudy sky.

“Ok we’re done, here what do you think?” He helped Sonic to his feet as they looked down at the new creations.

“Hmm, It’s fine I guess.” He backed up slightly to get a better angle. “They do kinda look like angels.”

Tilting his head to see the size difference. “Mines looks so small compared to yours”

“Well you are a small fry”

He snapped his head, looking offended “Ok first of all, I’m not that small from before! Second of all, I’m only fourteen so I’m not fully grown yet and Maddie said I’m gonna have a growth spurt soon anyway!”

“Yeah more like fourteen inches.” Tom mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately Sonic had heard that comment and bent down silently to grab a handful of snow.

“Hey Tom?”

“Wh-” *SPLAT*

Tom staggered back as he got a face full of snow, spluttering as he wiped it off his face.

Sonic fell onto his back, holding his stomach as he laughed at the man’s reaction.

“HAHAHA! Oh my god your face was so priceless! Oh man I wish I had a camera.”

Wiping the last of the snow off his face, he looked down at the laughing hedgehog. “Yeah yeah laugh it up, you think you’re so hilarious don’t you?”

He sat up, rubbing tears from his eyes. “I know I’m hilarious” he said with a sly grin.

Tom stared at him with a blank face before an evil grin appeared on his face. “Oh ok.” He said as he started to approach him.

“Uhhh why are you looking at me like th-AUUGH!” He yelped in surprise as Tom grabbed both his legs and swung him over his shoulder, dangling him upside down on the human’s back

“AAAH TOM STOP IT! PUT ME DOWN!”

“Not by a long shot, you caught me off guard so I’m simply returning the favor.” He replied as he started to purposely move his body, causing the hedgehog’s body to move back and forth.

“Ok you can stop now, you’re making me sick.” He tried to sound annoyed but was failing as a few giggles slipped out.

“Well whose fault is that?” He chuckled as he started to gallop his legs, earning more laughs out of Sonic. Hearing the sound of the front door opening (Still at an upside down perspective), he turned his head to see Maddie standing on the porch.

“Maddie! Help! He won’t put me down!”

Kneeling over the railing, she laughed at the sight of her boys playing in the yard. “Thomas Wachowski put him down now before you make him sick!”

“He assaulted a sheriff officer! He made the crime he’s doing the time for it!” He yelled as he continued to run around the yard with Sonic hanging off his back.

Rolling her eyes, she looked at her husband as face became serious.

“Thomas....”

Knowing better than to ignore his wife’s orders a second time, he swung Sonic around and placed him right side up with a look of satisfaction.

With wobbly legs, Sonic struggled to keep his balance, giggling slightly while trying to his distance from Tom just in case he tried to grab him again.

“Ok boys time to come in! It’s getting cold and I got another surprise waiting for you!”

Sonic, shaking off the last of the dizziness, zoomed up the stairs past Maddie into the house while Tom collected the shovels and looked back at the still snow covered driveway. “I guess there’s always tomorrow.”

=======

After hanging up his wet clothes and hat, Sonic took off his shoes and headed towards the couch in the living room where on the coffee table, where 3 large mugs filled with a dark liquid, steam slowly rising from each of them.

“Hey Maddie? Why’d you make us coffee this late? I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink that anymore?”

“Oh you most definitely aren’t allowed to drink it.” Sitting down next to him and opening a bag of marshmallows, putting two in each cup. “And it’s not coffee, this is called hot chocolate”

Watching as she shook a can of whipped cream, Tom entered the room with Ozzie following close behind, finding a spot on the couch next to Sonic to sit. “You guys really love spoiling me don’t you?”

“Don’t get used to it” Tom grunted as he sat in his arm chair, clutching his cup. “By tomorrow morning, things will be hectic again. It’s rare that it’s this quiet.”

Passing a cup to Sonic, Maddie scoffed as she made her cup. “Uh what about the times from before when you’d randomly invite Wade over and watch all those crazy Christmas movies with the volume blaring through the house?”

“Hey How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a classic! It deserves to be watched in its original sound ratio. I’m just ashamed that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“It’s probably because of how the actor is”

“What’s wrong with the actor?”

“He’s too...eccentric.”

“How is that a bad thing Maddie? It brings more comedic effect.”

“But he kinda goes overboard at times.”

“Hmm why does the sound similar to eggman?” He thought as the two continued their ‘discussion’ about certain actors who are still beloved for being ‘too eccentric.’

The young hedgehog sipped his warm drink as he watched them talk, petting Ozzie on the back as he took a breath, turning around to look out the window into the yard and up to the clear night sky.

He smiled as he took another sip before sitting back down on the couch laying up against the dog, no longer full of doubt.

“I gotta say, This definitely beats the cave”

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Blood Sister | Feeding Habits Update #5

Hey People of Earth!

Are we back for another Feeding Habits update? Today let’s chat chapter six!

Blood Sister is the first chapter in Harrison’s POV and also the longest chapter in the book (a little over 8k words). It took me about a month to write!

Scene A:

Harrison gets back to the NYC apartment he shares with his mother after running errands to ward off either the spirit that haunts their walls or to rescue whatever is stuck in them. His mother preps for a dinner as Harrison has invited his old pal Reeve over.

Scene B:

Harrison removes a litter of kittens from behind the drywall. One of the kittens is dead. Strangely, a German Shepherd puppy is also in the litter.

Scene C:

Reeve appears in a glamorous blur and makes an interesting first impression on Suz who seems slightly stunned and endeared by her.

Scene D:

At dinner Reeve confronts Harrison about his “straight-edge” lifestyle since moving to NYC and he realizes her judgements about his life being monotonous are very true--he lacks purpose.

Scene E:

Harrison and his mother clear the dishes and Suzanna confronts him on the fact that he hasn’t told her that Reeve is in fact Lonan’s sister. Suz knows the boys’ relationship is complicated, and plays Devil’s advocate by outright asking Reeve how her brother is. Reeve, who hasn’t seen Lonan longer than Harrison, has assumed Lonan lives with them or is close by, and feels semi-betrayed that Harrison has kept his whereabouts a secret.

Scene F:

Reeve and Harrison drive to a garden and he’s reminded of the event that lead to him and his mother’s return to the east coast.

Harrison meets Winona outside a convenience store, the same woman Lonan meets in ch.6 of Moth Work. She takes him to her mansion where she’s hosting a party and introduces him to her husband. Harrison makes multiple bad decisions which you can probably figure out for yourself!

Scene G:

Harrison wakes up in Winona’s house and is confused to see her and her husband standing over his leather jacket. If we remember what happened in ch. 6 of Moth Work, Lonan gets beat up by Winona’s husband and has Harrison’s jacket & angel chain stolen. We can assume from this scene that Winona has a) recognized the jacket and b) chosen him to come back to her house for the purpose of also beating him up (which happens).

Scene H:

Reeve and Harrison jump a fence into a garden to give the dead kitten an unorthodox “water burial” in the garden’s fountain. Reeve confronts him on why no one has seemed to care about her whereabouts for the last year, and also suggests the only reason he wanted to see her now is because he misses Lonan. Harrison miserably drinks too much wine.

Scene I:

Harrison wakes up in the cold, very drunk, and Reeve is gone. A security guard looms over him. Harrison asks the confused man if he thinks he was separated at birth. Harrison isn’t referring to feeling like he’s been removed from a sibling bond, like the kittens, but a deeper, “indissoluble bond” formed between two people (like the kittens and the puppy). This connects to the title “Blood Sister” as Reeve suggests she and Suzanna may be connected in this way, to the kittens, and to Lonan and Harrison.

This idea of “indissoluble bonds” was reinforced when I listened to Stephanie Harlowe’s coverage on the Parker-Hulme case, and this was the title of her video! This idea of an immutable connection between two people who are forever separated, like the dead kitten despite its death, still being connected to its siblings, was very relevant to how Harrison feels about Lonan.

Excerpts:

Here’s the entire first scene <3

Something has died in the drywall. Suz insists there must also be a ghost—she hears cries when she sleeps—so when Harrison returns to their apartment with both a handsaw and a bottle of holy water, she’s more than pleased.

Today, it snows in New York City, and no amount of brushing off his hair and jacket rids him of the snowflakes he tracks in. His face stings with the bitter early March air, and he’s resettled easily into the east coast grit; he likes the taste of instant coffee and the smell of gasoline.

Harrison shoulders off his jacket, the leather rigid with frost, and undoes the loop of his scarf one-handed. The apartment smells overwhelmingly of cloves and apple peel, and he is unsurprised when his mother rushes over to him, flushed from the kitchen heat, her #1 Dad apron bunching at her hips, and pushes a highball glass into his palm in exchange for his findings.

“It’s a secret recipe,” she says, twiddling through his errands. Suzanna lifts the bottle of holy water to eye level, unscrews its cap, and daps two soaked fingers to her lips just as he dips his fingers into the glass, around its rim, and then into his mouth. The hot mull of liquid bursts against his taste buds, citrusy. “Wish I believed in this shit as much as I believe nutmeg is my new holy saviour.”

Harrison downs the rest of the glass’s contents, the cider’s spice grafting down his throat. Its heat clings to the roof of his mouth, a subtle burn that numbs his tongue, but he likes it, its sweetened acid like a rucking back to life.

“Is that the secret?” He runs his pinky along the base of the glass so the last drops of liquid climb up his fingernail.

“The Lord?”

Harrison laughs and accepts the holy water she hands him, rescrews its cap in place. “Nutmeg.”

Suzanna takes his empty glass and whisks toward the kitchen. On the stove burbles two saucepans and one Dutch oven, the fan whirring like the pleats of an accordion.

“Maybe it’s both,” she says.

You asked for the entire second scene? Here Harrison finds the litter of kittens:

The first thing Harrison removes when he saws through the drywall lining the two-prong outlet is a dead kitten. Its body shifts onto his hand with damp weight, like an overripe pear, its silver hair glass-like under the beam of his flashlight. Though it sits comfortably in the pit of his palm, though he knows he cannot kill or revive it, his first instinct is to lay it on the beach towel Suzanna laid out because he fears he’ll crush it with just one pulse of his thumb.

Its eyes are the size of his pinkie nail, gently shuttered like it’s drifted to a lawless sleep. The animal will remain in this state—only death, but as he looks at it, braying its hairs back with his forefinger, he considers alternative options. Harrison knows little of necromancy, but considers anointing it with the holy water, lighting a red-cased candle in front of it, chanting a verse from Revelations.

With the flashlight secured between his molars, Harrison pulls out four more kittens, all that mew as they cling to his fingers, their noses twitching against his skin like it’s feed. They burrow into the beach towel, trampling over one another with blind fervency, all shimmery silver. In comparison to their deceased sibling, they wriggle, pink-nosed, and don’t settle against the grain of the towel, always wagging, like earthworms.

Harrison believes he’s done—removed the dead animal and rescued four more. Good work which he’ll take to a farm just outside the city—Suzanna has a friend. He’s nearly clicked off the flashlight when he sees it, just a subtle glint of something else—an animal that isn’t silver, but a dry brown.

At first, he thinks it’s a rat that’s raked through the walls to where it is now, but the longer he shines the flashlight, the more he sees it is not a rat, or even a kitten. What sits, jittering behind the outlet, is a pup.

Like the kittens, its nose twitches back and forth, its eyes small enough to be the ovular black beads on Suzanna’s rosary which hangs, decorative, above the front entrance. “It’s a cleanse for the spirit,” Suz said when he questioned her reasoning for bringing religious memorabilia into a house of two atheists. “Dianne from church told me.” Dianne is a beer-bellied schoolteacher, proud pothead and mother of four who frequently volunteers at the church’s weekend functions with his mother. “She’s into that kind of thing. Seances. Jesus Christ. I think she mentioned they had something spicy going on in college.”

“Something spicy?”

“Spicy. Like hot wings. Habaneros. One-night stands. I don’t know Harry, it sounded illicit.”

They both grinned.

Harrison does not know when him and Suz began getting along. There was no one date or time, no anniversary to look forward to for their official reunion. One moment he struggled not comparing her face to the one he knew in his early teens, and the next, they crouched over a salad bowl of burnt popcorn, taking turns painting each other’s fingernails with the same shade of red nail polish—Crazy for Carmine

The dog can’t yet focus its eyes on anything, but Harrison swears it stares at him. It fidgets from its position crouched on the outlet, so when he extends his hand, an offering, he’s surprised when it crouches onto the tip of his finger, shimmying into his palm. It’s even smaller when he holds it, plum-sized, and velveteen. Its eyelids flicker like the apartment’s bad TV signal, and when it opens its mouth to cry, its teeth, no larger than the tip of a toothpick, prick up.

“You’re not a tabby,” he says, drags his fingers through the suede-like gloss of its fur. The pup curls against his knuckles, murmurs languidly until Harrison pets its head again.

“Did you say something, Harry?”           

Harrison stands from his crouch when his mother materializes from her bedroom, the animal still pared delicately in his palm. When he glances at her, he’s surprised to see she’s changed out of her usual loungewear, a tank top and bell-bottoms, and into a patterned shirtdress that sways to her knees. The Matisse-like design, organic shapes, all the colour of a celery stalk, drapes to her knees, flounces when she twirls for him.           

“I thought we agreed on business casual,” he says, but smiles wider the longer he looks at her. Tulle gathers in a funnel down her waist, pluming her so she looks less like his mother and more like a fairy.          

“I’m taking the business side, and you’ll take the casual.”          

“She’s just a friend, Mom. She’s not expecting anything.”           

“She’s got an English last name,” Suz says. Her eyelids glitter with gold pigment, her lips tacky with rouge. “Of course she’s classy.”           

Harrison thumbs the back of the pup’s head and shifts closer to Suzanna when she cocks her head toward it.

“I think Reeve is more than classy,” he says. “Maybe stylish. Exclusive. Superior. Glamorous.”           

Suzanna shifts the pup from Harrison’s hands to her own, neatly patting its head with her pinkie until its murmurs soften. When she holds the animal, it’s like he no longer stands behind her. It’s just her in her Matisse dress and the dog, comfortably blinking in her hand. “You found a puppy in a litter of kittens?” she says, less of a question, and more of a declaration of wonderment. She lifts the animal to eye level. Its nose wrinkles, like the skin of a fig. “Looks like mama picked up a stray. A beautiful stray. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Reeve making only iconic appearances:

Reeve appears in their doorway wearing cat-eye sunglasses, a bottle of pinot noir slatted between her arm and chest. Though it’s been storming since early morning and there has been no sun in the city since the week previous, her appearance is so believable—cheekbones subtly tanned like she’s mastered the timing for a perfect sunlike glow, the sunglasses teetering neatly on the tip of her nose and staying there, like they’re a dog she’s taught to sit and stay—that Harrison’s almost convinced she commissions the sun to come out twice daily for a private show, just for her.

“We booked an appointment,” she says, letting herself into the apartment in a faux-fur blur.

Harrison swivels as she unzips, tooth by tooth, the red skin-slick vinyl of her gogo boots. Her hair falls in an untamed fringe around her forehead, the front sections pinned back by an array of rainbow-coloured butterfly clips. It mimics the fray of her jacket, fluffed around the hood’s perimeter.

Reeve dusts snow off her corduroy culottes, readjusts the collar of her black turtleneck. “When I moved to the city, I forgot how gruelling the winters can become.” She taps the heels of her boots onto the welcome mat so slush flakes onto the rubber before slipping her feet out elegantly, like Cinderella. “I almost believed New York City existed in a fictional bubble where everything remained dry and hot, like in Egypt, or the Mojave. When I asked for a hellish climate, I was hoping for sun and the occasional forest fire. Not ice and more ice.”

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” Suz speaks where Harrison’s words shrivel. She steps from the kitchen to the entrance, her dress flouncing when she extends a hand toward Reeve. “William Shakespeare.”

Reeve looks up. The cold has pinched her cheeks pink, drooled water to her eyes so when she blinks, tears sprout to her jawline. “Suzanna,” Reeve says, and embraces his mother with willful ease, like they’ve been girlfriends for a decade, like they purchase pavlova from the same patisserie at the same time on Thursdays, like they help each other whip perfectly fatty meringues at the same baking class so they can master the same pavlova and never buy it again. “I’ve heard nothing about you and yet I feel we’ve known each other for years. What do they call that? Blood sisters.”

So here’s the whole third scene lol:

At dinner, Reeve pops the cork of a bottle of pinot noir with her teeth before Suz tells her she and Harrison don’t drink. She’s in the middle of saying she’s a prophet, the bringer of wine, her lips parted around the cork, traces of her lip gloss gumming around its circumference.

“No alcohol?” Reeve says, spitting the cork into her palm so a glob of red transfers onto her skin.

Suz stirs a serving dish of clams with an olive wood spoon, their shells phosphorescent in the artificial light. “Harry and I have taken a break from spirits. Except for the holiest one of course.” She points to the roof as if signaling to the man upstairs and dishes a spoonful of clams onto Reeve’s plates, the shells chiming against the ceramic.

“That’s so reverent.” Reeve pricks the edge of a clam with a toothpick and swallows its frill into her mouth. “So virginal.”

Harrison accepts a spoonful of clams from his mother and adjusts a sprig of rosemary so it lies perpendicular to the plate’s edge. Olive oil gums under his fingernails and soaks into the fibres of a slice of bread he rips at the crust.

“I always assumed you’d be a partier if you ever moved back to the city,” Reeve says, and it takes Harrison a moment to realize she’s speaking to him. “Disco. Karaoke. Cocktails. Men who buy you cocktails.”

“Has that been your life in New York, Reeve?” Harrison sucks a lobe of clam between his lips. Its brine coats his tongue in a burst of salt and cilantro.

Reeve tips the bottle of wine to her mouth, its red gift bow shifting, silverish with light. “You could say that. I just expected more. Not that your life now is boring. But I assumed there would be more glamour.”

Harrison sops up a dribble of oil onto a shear of bread, and says something like, “I thought so too,” before swallowing.

“We have glamour,” Suz says as Harrison absently eats more clams. She points to the chandelier the two found at the bottom of a New Jersey dumpster, yet to be installed, sitting in its crystal glory on the floor. She explains the story of how it came to be as Harrison eats and listens for the mewing of the kittens, thinks about their one dead sibling that now lies curled inside a shoebox, separated in eternal rest.

Reeve is not wrong. Life in New York City has been far from glamorous. He shares this apartment with his mother who pays for all of the rent—it’s been months since Harrison could hold down a steady job. He tries with odds and ends—repairing a neighbour’s bathroom sink, tacking sconces up outside the apartment for a hundred bucks. His room is a décor-less box that smells like wallpaper even though it’s sanded smooth and painted with two coats of an eggshell-finished oatmeal white. There is no dancing, no music, no colour, no partying, no alcohol or men with alcohol. Not anymore, at least. Her statement should not sting—this is the utter truth. The apartment is repetitive shades of indistinctive creams, furniture he and his mother pick up off the curbs of wealthy homeowners, incomplete, yet his home, nonetheless. No matter the story Suz tries to spin—look at the exposed brick, look at the counter space, look at the custom-moulded baseboards the previous renters installed—he knows what Reeve has said is true. Life in the city is comfortable but monotonous—an unrelenting kind of normal.

“We found kittens,” Harrison says, promptly interrupting the women’s conversation that has quickly moved away from the apartment to their favourite places to eat gelato. Suz’s clam drifts off her toothpick; Reeve almost chokes on a gulp of wine. Harrison swipes a chunk of bread through olive oil and chews. “That’s glamorous.”

Reeve sets the wine bottle back onto the dinner table and folds her hands over the other. Her manicure is chipped, just the remnants of a tortoiseshell marble. “What kind? Calico?”

“They’re just kittens. And a dog.”

“You found a dog in a litter of kittens?”

Harrison eats one last clam and finishes his portion of bread. “Glamorous,” he says, his mouth half-full.

The beginning of scene 4:

While Suz and Reeve discuss room décor and clear the plates, Harrison checks on the kittens. Dishes clank rhythmically as they’re soaped, rinsed, dried, the ceramic whimpering in time with the kittens. He hasn’t named any but understands their differences. Though the quadruplets share the same silver coat, one has a slightly larger nose than the rest, one has a fleck of gold in its blue eye, one has pinstripes scrolled across its forehead like a branch of lightning—small details like this differentiate them.

In his palm, the one with the golden eye crawls, its underbelly sateen. Tomorrow, he’ll make the drive just outside Brooklyn where he’ll drop the kittens off at an old farmhouse. Suz’s friend from rehab is selling it, some Theodore Harvey, but his wife fosters animals, and was delighted to have the new additions. Though he hasn’t spoken to his mother about this arrangement, he also knows tomorrow he will keep the dog. Juniper, he’s named her—June with the eyes like a solstice.

When his mother pokes him, he jumps, and the kitten shimmies off his palm.

The sounds of dishes clinking morphs into the filmy mutter of a talkshow Reeve watches, sipping absently at her gifted bottle of red wine.

She nudges a pastry into his hand, where the kitten once sat, the skin of the pasteis de nata oiling his hand. He crunches into it as she watches patiently, as if waiting for a review, and its caramel flavour ruminates on his tongue.

“This is good,” he says around a mouthful of pastry.

“$4.99.” Suz smiles and takes a nibble herself. “For six.”

Together they stand over the kittens, passing the tart back and forth until Harrison gives the final piece to his mother. The apartment whirs with the calculated singe of automated laughter and the purr of the kittens. He knows one sits dead in a shoebox on his bedroom dresser. The ground too hard to dig, a burial still necessary.

Suz licks a crumb from her thumb and wipes her palms along the skirt of her dress. Their focus shifts to Reeve who lies sprawled against the two-seater, yelling something at a contestant on the show who’s gotten an answer wrong—tulip, not two lips. That’s fabulous. You are fabulously a failure.

“You didn’t tell me she was Lonan’s sister.”

Harrison pokes at a flake of pastry and wipes his hands on the front of his jeans. Reeve’s bangles clatter in a cyan jangle as she applauds at the same contestant she previously ridiculed. There are so many things he could say to his mother—he knew Reeve first, Reeve isn’t just Lonan’s sister to him, more like his own, but when he adjusts himself, swallowing and tidying the hem of his shirt, all that comes out is, “I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“I would’ve like to,” Suz says. “Does she know? That you don’t know where he is?”

Harrison’s fingernail catches on a loose thread, and he yanks it out so even Reeve glances back at its upholstered plink. “I know where he is, Suzanna.”

Reeve and Suz being icons (direct continuation from the above):

Harrison turns back to the kittens who plow over one another like ants. Heat flushes his throat, prickles his cheeks and ears and suctions like a vacuum. Though Suzanna eventually leaves, joining Reeve on the couch, propping her feet on the same coffee table so their polished feet touch, toes pink like raw cherry tomatoes, though he knows they’re both right in knowing and not knowing where Lonan is, though he knows it should no longer matter to him, he finds himself leaning against the table where the kittens encase each other in a plastic shoe bin, ticking his fingers at his side.

He does not know what the reality television show is about. From the blots he hears from the TV’s can-like speaker, he concludes it’s something about botany, love, vengeance, fertilizer. No one theme—it does not even know what it is itself. Suz has materialized with another tart, and she and Reeve nibble at it with fervency, so close, their tongues almost touch as they dart across the custard. The sight is almost viper-like, their teeth notched forward, and it should be venomous, or at its worst—friendly, but all Harrison sees is girlish, maternal intimacy.

Suz and Reeve laugh at a contestant who wears a tartan printed jumpsuit and mismatching earrings—one the shape of a pineapple, the other an urn-like bead she claims holds the ashes of her great aunt. They outline her figure with their pinkies. They clutch each other’s hands. They flush like beets and wipe crumbs from each other’s mouths.

Reeve’s momentary lapse into delicacy:

Harrison turns his back and pretends to tend to the kittens. They all know he does nothing but thumb the backs of their heads, let them suckle against his fingertips—they all know, and yet, he continues doing it. Silence cuts through the apartment like hot glass.

If Reeve and Suzanna still touch toes, it’s because neither want to loosen the other’s pride. The only sound in the room belongs to the television which has moved away from dishwashing to a watering hose—four for four, as if this is a discount, as if anyone will truly need that many watering hoses.

“I haven’t seen your brother since late August,” Harrison says once the commercials simmer back to the gaudy laughter of the reality television show. At first, he doesn’t look at Reeve. He knows what he’ll see—some form of betrayal. She didn’t come here looking for Lonan. She hasn’t even asked for him, but he knows what he’ll see when he looks at her. Best friends do not keep secrets.

When he concedes, he is right. Reeve looks at him from under a thick smear of kohl, her eyes focused, like slate beads. Her lips are pink from wine and she unhinges a fleck of opal nail polish from her thumb. Her mouth does not move, a straight line that cranks with her jaw.

“Where is he?” she asks, fluttering her lashes when Suz pats her arm. If Harrison is right, Reeve hasn’t see her brother since she peered in on him when the two shared the tent, pearled a few smoke rings from Harrison’s cigar, and left for the east coast. Before he left, Foster filled him in on the details of her eventual cross-country desertion, though there weren’t many. How he’d last seen her at the motel, a margarita wobbling in her palm, what she’d said to him, to stay special, that there weren’t many people like him left, and how she had vanished like vapour by the time they realized to check. While Reeve hiked across the country by herself, he and Lonan swam through nighttide and badly waltzed in a four-by-four bathroom. She made an anonymous life in New York City, hailing cabs with just her eyes, and learning the easiest ways to shoplift. Alone. Her last memory of Lonan one where he pretended to sleep so he didn’t have to say goodbye to her.

“Las Vegas the last time I saw him,” Harrison says. He feels the urge to apologize for something, to hug her, or cry. Though her expression unbends from severe back to her perfected mould of glitzy conviction, her momentary lapse into delicacy startles him. He looks back to the kittens who seem more interested in themselves than him.

Reeve tightens her grip around the neck of the wine bottle and tactfully sips, her pinkie erect, her lips pursed just the right amount. “What happened?” she asks and sets the bottle onto the coffee table. She lets a dribble of wine fall from her mouth so she can dab at it like a wounded animal.

Harrison and Reeve in the car:

Harrison brings the box with the dead kitten and Reeve brings the bottle of pinot noir. Together, they settle in her red Beetle convertible, a car she insists she pawned for a quarter its listing price, though he figures from the way she settles in it, carefully placing the wine bottle in the cup holder, wiping her hands on her thighs as if checking for grease, that it must belong to a roommate or boyfriend, if she has either. The car smells faintly of pineapple and vanilla, a scent not unfamiliar to him, the waft strengthening as the tree-shaped air-freshener swings closer to him with every turn.

Reeve asks vaguely of his time in the city, how life has been for him and his mother since they moved from Vegas in mid October. Her mouth flutters with speech, each word like the hull of a hard candy she specially tastes before sharing. Has it been marvellous, just as you thought? Don’t you ever wonder how a city could become so brilliant? Isn’t the weather maddening? Don’t you adore it? She asks about Foster, what living with him was like, what saying goodbye to him the week previous was like—was it tragic—and he could tell her his move in with him and his mother wasn’t much of a plan—not a last resort either, but a salvaging. A necessary resuscitation. Reeve’s lips as dubious as shadow puppets.

Here’s some of the flashback with Winona at the convenience store:

The woman stood under the hex of the convenience store’s light, spooling her in a feverish blue. The sun had been down for hours, but its residual heat clung to Harrison’s arms in tacky gusts that wound up his fingers. Like the woman, he reached for his cigarettes. Vehicles spun across the highway just beyond the gas station, and when he raised his head after lighting the cigarette, the woman was staring at him.

“Aren’t you too young to be out without a parent or guardian?” she asked. Her hair was the colour of his mother’s candlesticks, a waxy boxed red. Her rings waggled in the false light.

“Maybe,” he said, a curl of smoke looping out of his mouth. “Can’t remember which life I’m on. There are so many. I could be ninety-seven. Tomorrow might be my birthday.”

It was September in Las Vegas. White licks of car exhaust laced the black sky, and though it wasn’t cold, Harrison pulled his jacket tighter around his chest.

Winona tries to figure out whether or not Harrison is a local by getting to know his eyes/face lol:

Harrison dropped the butt of his cigarette and stomped out its embers. When it was fully out, he fit his hands into his jacket pocket and approached the woman. Up close, her trench coat was pebbled with lint, a bead from her charm bracelet missing. She crushed her cigarette too, and when her hands were free, she stepped toward him with both palms out, and pressed them to his cheeks so he felt both the heat of her skin and the watery bite of her jewelry. She examined each plane of his face as if they were sides of a prism. Her perfume, a vinegary sort of citrus, stung his eyes the closer she got, the fur of her jacket’s trim brushing his chin when she pressed to her toes for a better look.

“You could be so many things,” she said, tilting his jaw at the same moment her pinkie slid from the jab of his nose bridge to his top lip. She pushed her face closer to his and inhaled, her plastic nail marking his skin with a pixel of glitter. “You’ve got the face of an angel. Which means you’re good. You’re sacred. You’re discreet.” When her finger poked into his mouth, her knuckle snagged on his canines. “Could also mean you’re a fraud. A criminal. You know, Lucifer wasn’t always the fallen angel.”

A bit of the party:

Winona’s front lawn was manicured, cropped neat at its soil scalp. Clusters of people huddled in different places—four gargling in the stone fountain just before the iron gate, two drinking from three martini glasses at once, a group of on their backs, arms wound like a wicker basket, shot glasses teetering between their teeth like human serving tables.

Winona parked opposite the house that pulsed with light. Harrison got out when she did, and with ease, she punched into the gate, leading him past her perfect lawn, her party guests, as if they were simply garden statues.

Inside, more people concentrated, all stopping Winona for a moment to say hello as she passed. She moved in a way only the owner of a house would, her strides easy, like she knew exactly where to take him and when.

“I know it’s busy,” Winona said, adjusting her volume for the holler of party guests. “I promise it’s always like that. Who is it that says we need partners for life? God or my therapist? This is that but every week. You meet so many people.”

Harrison listened to her haphazardly. Though he’d been in Las Vegas for a month, he hadn’t been out except for a few errands at the grocery store or for cigarettes, despite his mother’s insistence he quit. The party was overwhelming. Bass from the stereo caught him by the throat and held him there as he and Winona threaded through her house that seemed closer to a mansion. The interior smelled like cleaning bleach and fruit cocktails, and he could hardly walk without someone rearing into him. He should’ve left, known better, done better, but it thrilled him, every moment of the party’s chokehold.

When Winona pushed through her French doors and out to the back pool, Harrison tailed her closely, unsure he’d be able to keep pace if he lost sight of her, even for a moment. The backyard smelled artificially floral, like orchids, tuberose, the grassy melt of citronella candles.

Some of my fave Harrison dialogue:

“You should’ve told me you were into vintage. Cheap but chic. I like it, angel.” Her ring finger smushed into his jaw, and then against his hairline.

“What’s vintage about me?”

Winona laughed, though her eyes remained glass-like. “Your jacket, of course. You’re thrifty. Into second-hand.”

~~theme makes an appearance:

It was only later, when he stumbled, bloody knuckled, through their front door, stepping over partygoers and martini glasses, that he understood. He hadn’t come to the party thinking about Lonan but managed to attract the same people. He hadn’t drunk the magenta liquid thinking about him but managed to exit the house stumbling, as he did, his knees knotted like a newborn lamb. There was something inconceivably indissoluble about them—their bond mirror-like, one making one decision, and the other mimicking it with vigour, unknowingly inseparable.

God tier denial:

“What do you miss about him?”

Harrison blinks. He hasn’t expected her to speak to him again, in fact he’s pictured the night whittling into gauzy silence, them setting the box afloat in the fountain, and then leaving once more, wordless. Reeve drinks another sip of wine. Its scent stings, like earthy cranberries.

“I don’t,” he says, which is a lie, and they both know it. Harrison has never been a good liar, but especially a bad liar around Reeve who’s always managed to snuff out the truth. She looks at him in absolutes, like she sees his every answer scraped into his cheek and doesn’t need to check his work. Her eyes are feline and rimmed with kohl and aquamarine mica—she doesn’t need anyone to tell her the truth because she holds it in her fist. “He has a girlfriend. He’s happy.” Harrison rations more wine down his tongue, three times as much as he’s intended to drink.

“But what do you miss about him?”

Harrison misses nothing. He sleeps little and smokes too much because he misses nothing. He walks by himself, eats by himself, talks to himself because he misses nothing. He jumps from job to job, person to person, place to place because he misses nothing. He wakes up in dazes the colour of blackberries because he misses nothing. He blinks dreams from his eyelashes like they’re bad spells because he misses nothing. He holds himself, he drinks himself, he leaves no company for anyone because he misses nothing about Lonan. He misses absolutely nothing.

Harrison sits up and lifts the dead kitten’s box. He feels Reeve’s gaze when he lowers it into the fountain, the box giving into the slosh of water, and feels her gaze once more when he sits back and drinks more wine. The moon makes him miserable, its silver gloat like a reminder, of how easy it would be to look at it and see Lonan’s face appear in its dime. He doesn’t register how much he drinks, just that it feels better than not drinking. He doesn’t register that Reeve never takes the bottle, that it’s just him and its open gape of wine. As the kitten swirls around the fountain, he tries not to think of its siblings back at the apartment, all mottled over each other like burrs. An unbreakable bond, and what that means, even as one of them sits alone, gurgling along the current of a fountain.

If you didn’t ask for angst before, you sure did now:

He does not remember falling asleep, and so waking up feels illusory, shimmery, like a mirage. He focuses on dart of yellow light and a man wearing a security uniform telling him he can’t be here, here being the garden, past the fence, under the fountain. Snowflakes have clumped against his eyelashes and he blinks twice to dislodge them. The man must ask him if he’s intoxicated, never noticing the shoebox floating in the fountain, because Harrison says, “Who’s to say? I miss so many things,” and isn’t talking about the bottle of wine or Reeve that both seem to have vanished, as if they were never there. Harrison blinks again, searching for Reeve’s outline somewhere in the crisp bushel of dead foliage, but she never reappears—has he imagined the entire thing, or is she magical, effervescent, invisible? What was the last thing she said? Drink it all. It’s good for you. It’s like your own personal healing tonic.

“Do you think it’s possible I was separated at birth?” Harrison asks the security guard, who leads him by the elbow out past the iron gate and into the parking lot where he stumbles over a patch of glazy slush and onto his knees.

“Are you a twin?”

Harrison draws his index finger through the slush, doodling nonsense—letters of his name, an eyeball, a singular, faceless nose. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Your twin?”

Harrison shakes his head.

Snow and slush dredge his jeans and the hem of his jacket; a streetlamp filters him and the security guard in foamy yellow. His skin has numbed from sitting out in the cold too long, and in some places, prickles with heat, like the fritz of pine needles. Reeve has dissolved in the fresh spatter of snow that settles on the pavement, his fingers. The fur fringe of her hood gone, the slick of her boots. She will not be here tomorrow. He may never see her again, and yet this is not what makes him ache in the way he does.

His hands move for him. Dividing the snow in slopes, curves, lines—letters. When he’s finished, he rests his chin on his own shoulder and dries the slop of slush from his nail. The security guard leans over, bends down to get a better look, but Harrison doesn’t have to look to know what he’s written. Chiselled so the flurries fill its gaps, like cement. His name will be erased by dawn. Lonan.

So that’s it for this very, very long update! See you for chapter seven!

--Rachel

[mtvswatches]

10 Things I Hate About You

Obligatory soundtrack 

1) The late 90s/early 00s were filled with contemporary adaptations of Shakespeare’s plays - Julia Stiles starred in three of those, coincidentally - but, in my opinion, none has been more iconic than 10 Things I Hate About You. It’s been over 20 years since the movie was released, and it’s certainly become a teen/rom-com classic. It’s definitely a feel-good movie, and even though it obviously had great source material to work with, it did so in such a unique and fun way. And it was kind of woke for its time, too.

Disclaimer: I am a bit afraid this whole review will turn into me taking screenshots of the movie and just writing “iconic.” You’ve been fairly warned.

Anyway, let’s get into it!

3) I really love how they managed the “show, don’t tell” technique with Kat’s introduction. Her first scene really shows who she is – a jaded, kind of rebellious teenager, who marches to the beat of her own drum. Or to the beat of Joan Jett’s drum…

She’s shown as the opposite of the other girls, but it doesn’t feel like a criticism of the other girls' more cheerful, sunny disposition. We very quickly learn what she is like, but we have yet to find out why.

4) The next characters we meet are Cameron and the school’s guidance counselor. Cameron is the new student and the guidance counselor is just…

I love her. And Allison Janney proves how talented an actress she is by making the token counselor character both memorable and unique.

5) We also meet Patrick Verona, the resident Bad Boy who had “exposed himself” in the cafeteria. Oh, Heath Ledger, you are truly missed!

6) Michael Eckman  shows Cameron around and he basically delivers the token “school cliques scene”, and since I’m not American, I’ve always wondered if this is a real thing in schools? Like, are there really so many cliques that are so visually different from one another? Each group dressing in a particular style and hanging out at a specific spot? Anyhow, the cliques here are the beautiful people (or rather, the assholes), the coffee kids (?), the white Rastas (or white stoners), the cowboys (?), and the yuppies.

7) Michael’s tour gets cut short when Cameron spots Bianca, and he’s instantly infatuated with her. I’ve always found it hard to root for Cameron at first because I’m not really a fan of insta-love, and he ends up doing A LOT of shady things for a girl who he doesn’t know AT ALL. But more on that later. In fact, the movie kind of makes a point of how ridiculous it is for Cameron to be in instant-love with Bianca by having her deliver this little lecture on love:

BIANCA: Yeah, but see, there's a difference between like and love. Because I like my Skechers, but I love my Prada backpack.

CHASTITY: But I love my Skechers.

BIANCA: That's because you don't have a Prada backpack.

Bianca clearly grows a lot over the course of the movie, but it’s clear that Cameron was in love with her appearance and not her brains or personality, which makes his quest to sweep her off her feet misguided at best.

8) And then Michael presents the main plot point…

The question then is, how is Cameron going to get the girl? It’s his quest to get a date with Bianca that creates a domino effect that brings all the characters together. 

9) See what I mean? ICONIC!

And can I say that I just love Kat? Not only is she smart, but also, she didn’t take any bullshit from anyone, especially not males. She was a feminist before being a feminist was cool. And she does grow a lot. 

10) Okay, two things, A) I love Mr. Morgan, and B) foreshadowing? Sort of?

11) Iconic.

12) Michael seems to have a lot of preconceptions about Bianca – and most of them were kind of accurate, at least at the start of the film. She was kind of vapid and shallow and self-absorbed. For someone who believes that Bianca is not only completely out of Cameron’s league but also not worthy, he does get very involved in trying to get Bianca to date Cameron.

13) This is one of my favorite lines in the movie, probably because it sounds a lot like Buffyspeak…

14) This is so random…

And the movie does have a lot of these little moments of slapstick comedy that almost seem to belong to a different type of movie, but for some reason, they work?

15) And this reminds me of the Veronica Mars of yore, the one I used to love…

16) We meet Cat and Bianca’s dad, and he is very overbearing at first, but he truly grows on you once you understand where all his rules are coming from. And of course, he establishes The Rule, which sets off the movie’s shenanigans – Bianca cannot date unless Kate does.

17) Bianca does prove a lot of Michael’s preconceptions right during her interaction with Cameron, who asks her out on a date, and even though he has been tutoring her she can’t remember his name and after he reminds her of it, she calls him “Curtis.” Bianca very clearly sees in Cameron the solution to her dating problem, and she very obviously manipulates him when it’s clear she’s not interested in dating him. She’ll get him to do the dirty work, and then let Joey rip the rewards. On the one hand, this is wrong. On the other hand, Cameron sort of had it coming? He was only interested in Bianca because of her looks, and he was about to manipulate Kat with total disregard for her feelings, so...

18) So Michael and Cameron set out to find a match for scary Kat. And what do you know…?

They figure the only way to convince Patrick to date Kat is by paying him, except they don’t have any money. So they turn to Joey, who gladly agrees to invest if it means this will get her Bianca.

19) Patrick and Joey strike a deal, and let me tell you, this deal never made any sense to me? Like, after some bargaining Joey agrees to pay Patrick 50 dollars? And I might be daft but how would Patrick be making a profit here? If he took her out, he’d be spending most of that on the date, making the whole thing pointless if he’s not making a profit? And Joey was supposed to be loaded, so why not offer more than that, to begin with?

20) I really love how Patrick assumed all he’d need to do was say hello and Kat would be at his feet, and she gloriously turned him down and put him in his place. He tries again the next day and he gets turns down, again. And I can’t blame her, he was acting like an entitled douchebag and assuming she’d want to jump his bones only because he was hot and asking her to go out, like that’s all it’d take.

21) And Joey gets a little bit of what’s coming to him…

22) This leads to Kat getting into an argument with her dad, making a lot of valid points…

WALTER: Is this about Sarah Lawrence? Are you punishing me because I want you to stay close to home? KAT: Aren't you punishing me because Mom left? WALTER: You think you could leave her out of this? KAT: Fine. Then stop making my decisions for me. WALTER: I'm your father. That's my right. KAT: So what I want doesn't matter. WALTER: You're 18. You don't know what you want. And you won't know what you want till you're 45, and even if you get it, you'll be too old to use it. KAT: I want to go to an east coast school! I want you to trust me to make my own choices... and I want you to stop trying to control my life just because you can't control yours!

I can see both sides of this argument, though. He wasn’t punishing her because her mom left, I think he was just afraid they’ll get hurt again and that’s why he was so overprotective. And Kat had just crashed her car on purpose, so I really don’t understand how she managed to turn the whole thing against her father?

23) Patrick renegotiates the terms of his agreement with Joey, demanding a 100 bucks per date. He can’t have had getting something for Kat as his goal at this point, but I think he was just trying to screw Joey over as much as possible, which kudos to him.

24) Michael and Cameron approach Patrick and inform him that they’re actually the masterminds behind this date-Kat plan, and they agree to help him woo her. And I get that Kat was not the most agreeable person to begin with, but it’s still very disheartening to see that literally no one considered her feelings in this whole thing? Like, all of them were so proud they were playing Joey, but she was the one getting played the worst? And Bianca even allows Cameron to go inside Kat’s room and go through all her private things? Everyone was an asshole in this movie, is all I’m saying.

25)

26) And then…

Probably in spite of herself, he managed to get through her shell a little bit.

27) Bianca finally begs her sister to go to the party so that she can go, and what do you know? Kat does have a heart after all, and she agrees to show.

28) Which leads to…

29) Kat seems very happy to see Patrick at her door, although she quickly puts the bitch rest-face back on and pretends his keeping his word and coming to get her did not affect her at all…

30) So, now that she got to the party and gets to hang out with Joey, Bianca demands her sister do not address her in public, and I’m like, wtf?! Kat then begs her to listen, and again, Bianca shrugs her off and tells her to go off and “enjoy her adolescence”, which pisses Kat off and probably hurts her, too. So she decides to enjoy her adolescence the way everyone seems to do, getting trashed and embarrassing themselves.

31) Further evidence that Bianca was, indeed, an asshole… Cameron is the reason she got to go out at all – after he pulled off this elaborate plan to get her sister a date – and she manipulated him by feigning to be interested in him, and now…

But karma is a bitch because Joey might be the most popular boy in school – god knows why! – but he’s as dull as dishwater, and she quickly finds herself regretting her decision to brush Cameron off in favor of Joey.

32) Meanwhile, Kat is truly enjoying her adolescence…

And thank god Patrick was there to catch her because if he hadn’t, I don’t think anyone would’ve helped her.

33) I really love Patrick’s pep talk to Cameron…

CAMERON: It's off, okay? The whole thing's off. PATRICK: What are you talking about? CAMERON: She never wanted me. She wanted Joey the whole time. PATRICK: Cameron, do you like the girl? CAMERON: Yeah. PATRICK: And is she worth all this trouble? CAMERON: I thought she was, but, you know, l... PATRICK: Well, she is or she isn't. See, first of all, Joey is not half the man you are. Secondly, don't let anyone ever make you feel like you don't deserve what you want.

34) And Patrick taking care of drunk Kat is the sweetest thing ever…

35) Of course, now that Bianca no longer wants to hang out with Joey and her friend leaves her high and dry, she asks Cameron for a ride home.

36) On the way home, Kat actually opens up to Patrick, a lot. She admits she’d love to play in a band, and that her father wants her to be someone she’s not – her sister. Patrick admits that he doesn’t really get what everyone sees in Bianca, and Kat delivers what’s probably the greatest compliment you could get from her…

She puts herself out there… and gets shut down. Of course, Patrick was probably feeling remorse about the way he’d gotten to know this girl and the way he’d been playing her because now that he’d gotten to know her a little bit better, he could see that behind that badass façade she was extremely vulnerable and sensitive. Kat feels rejected and humiliated, and who can blame her? He’d been relentlessly pursuing her, and now that she’d opened up to him and offered to kiss him, he’d turned her down…

Anyway, Patrick’s behavior, later on, makes no sense after the way he acted here, but more on that further below.

37) Cameron finally confronts Bianca about her manipulative behavior, and to her credit, she is honest and owns up to being selfish when he calls her on it. And I guess she finally sees he’s worth it…

38)

39) This exchange is so silly and hilarious?

Like, Cameron’s answer seems silly, but what type of answer was Patrick expecting? Where could she have possibly kissed him? On the knees?

40) Kat is clearly not yet over the rejection…

41) See what I mean about the jokes in this movie?

And they just look over and go on talking, as if she hadn’t just nailed her teacher on the ass with an arrow...

42) Joey goes to Patrick yet again and offers 200 dollars to get him to take Kat to the prom. Patrick tells him he’s sick of this game, and Joey ups the ante and offers him 300 dollars, which Patrick somewhat begrudgingly takes. I just would really like to know if it was at this point that he thought he’d used this dirty money to buy something for Kate. Otherwise, he was still being a jerk...

43) This scene just gives me butterflies, okay?

And as charming as he is, Kat is still not over the humiliation of putting herself out there and being rejected.

44) Cameron returns the favor and gives Patrick some very good advice, the reason for that glorious scene later on…

CAMERON: Look, you embarrassed the girl. Sacrifice yourself on the altar of dignity and even the score.

This gets Patrick thinking…

45) And I’m just going to add the video here because this whole scene is just rom-com perfection and bless Heath Ledger again, okay? And why didn’t we get more of him singing in everything he did? His voice just makes me feel things, okay?

Seriously, how do you say no to that boy asking you to let him love you? You don’t say no, that’s how.

Same, Kat. Hard same.

46) Kat goes into detention and distracts the coach while Patrick attempts to escape out the window, and then…

And the teacher is looking directly at her tits? And while the distraction tactic worked, how was she not sent to the principal’s office? Patrick was sent to the principal’s office for “exposing himself” with a bratwurst while joking with the cafeteria lady, and Kat is literally exposing herself and she walks scot-free? Hmm.

47) Patrick and Kat have another heart to heart, and to be honest, it always melts this cold heart of mine…

PATRICK: So, what's your excuse? KAT: For? PATRICK: For acting the way we do? KAT: I don't like to do what people expect. Why should I live up to other people's expectations instead of my own? PATRICK: So, you disappoint 'em from the start and then you're covered, right? KAT: Something like that. PATRICK: Then you screwed up. KAT: How? PATRICK: You never disappointed me.

Same, Kat. SAME.

48) #SWOON

49) And this is the part that doesn’t make sense to me. They’ve just had this perfect date, and they’re growing closer, and they’ve kissed, and he clearly likes her. And the reason he didn’t kiss her after the party was that he was feeling guilty about the way he’d gotten her to go out with him and fall for him – through deception and manipulation. And now that they’re much closer and into each other, he tries very hard to get her to go to prom with him, pushing her in a way that makes her feel uncomfortable, and like, why? They’re clearly not the type of people who go to proms, so why not take Joey’s money and screw the deal? Why did he have to keep his promise? Why not be honest with Kat? Why not tell her, I like you a lot and this idiot is paying me to date you even though I’m honored to do that for free so why don’t we team up and scam him? I know the answer is “conflict”, but it’s always pissed me off.

50) Seriously, though, Cameron. Why?

51) In true teen-rom fashion, everyone needs to be paired up, right?

52) See what I mean about the jokes?

53) Loved the Dawson’s Creek reference…

Believe it or not, a lot of people thought DC was scandalous at the time. And DC was so naïve compared to its predecessors The OC or Gossip Girl…

54) Kat finally opens up to Bianca and explains why she has so many issues and why she doesn’t want to conform to high school’s social rules and expectations and stereotypical idea of “normalcy.” She’d had a less than stellar dating experience back when she was way too young and far too vulnerable with none other than Joey, who had slept with her and dumped her right after. Oh yeah, and it all happened right after her mom had left them. In an attempt to prevent the same thing from happening to her little sister, she had agreed to their dad’s rules, effectively preventing Bianca from experiencing anything on her own. It’s kind of a case of the pot calling the kettle black, considering she’d complained about the very same thing to her father.

55) Kat finally realizes she’s been unfair to her sister and decides to go to prom, to their father’s dismay. Kat even swallows her pride and actually apologizes to Patrick for questioning his motives to ask her to the prom, and he has the nerve to forgive her. Dude, you do have ulterior motives, and the girl you like is actually apologizing even though she’s done nothing wrong and you’re blatantly lying, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelash when he tells her “You’re forgiven.” I mean, I love Patrick, but still… not cool.

56) Bless Walter.

57) I guess they’re a thing, because why not?

58) And this is, among many other reasons, why I can’t hold anything against Patrick Veronica…

He got her favorite band to play in the prom.

59) Chastity is such a bitch for no reason? Like, she and Bianca were close friends, and then, all of a sudden, they aren’t? And she’s so mean to Bianca!

60) And leave it to Joey to ruin everything…

61) And I truly love that Bianca is the one to put him in his place…

62) See? He’s a good guy, he was just trying to protect his daughters the only way he knew how…

WALTER: Bianca did what? KAT: What's the matter, upset that I rubbed off on her? WALTER: No, impressed. Fathers don't like to admit it when their daughters are capable of running their own lives. It means we've become spectators. Bianca still lets me play a few innings. You've had me on the bench for years. And when you go to Sarah Lawrence I won't even be able to watch the game. KAT: When I go? WALTER: Oh, boy. Don't tell me you changed your mind. I already sent 'em a cheque

63) And I also have to include the video for this scene because it’s just… *chef’s kiss*… Julia Stiles absolutely nails this one, and it never fails to bring me to tears…

Same, Patrick. Same.

64) And while the fact that he doesn’t immediately run after her always has me screaming, he does make up for all of it…

KAT: A Fender Strat? Is it for me? PATRICK: Yeah, I thought you could use it, you know, when you start your band. Besides, I had some extra cash, you know. Some asshole paid me to take out this really great girl. KAT: Is that right? PATRICK: Yeah, but I screwed up. I, um... I fell for her. KAT: Really? PATRICK: It's not every day you find a girl who'll flash someone to get you out of detention. KAT: Oh, God. You can't just buy me a guitar every time you screw up, you know. PATRICK: Yeah, I know. But there's always drums and bass and maybe even one day a tambourine. KAT: And don't just think you can...

65) This movie is hardly a masterpiece, but it doesn’t intend to be either, and not every movie needs to be. It’s a feel-good movie, and it delivers on so many levels. It’s funny, it’s tropey, it’s cute, it’s romantic, it has a great soundtrack, and you just feel a whole lot better after watching it. It’s the 90s at its best, and that’s why it became a classic.

What I love the most, though, is Kat’s character development. We see this girl who is a badass and super smart, takes no bullshit, holds everyone accountable for their shitty behavior, and has a great wit. But she is not without flaws. She’s closed off because she has been hurt before, both by her mother and her first love. She holds everyone at bay because it’s easier that way. Throughout the movie, however, she shows empathy and a lot of vulnerability. And she soon finds out that she had been missing out on a lot of things by shielding her emotions. She’d missed out on having a good relationship with her sister and on finding love again. What is truly admiring about Kat, though, is that when she’s hurt the most and she has every reason to close herself off again, she does the exact opposite. She opens herself up not only in front of the guy she’s in love with but everyone. The shrew cries and bares her soul for the world to see. Regardless of the happy ending, I think that in itself s truly inspiring, don’t you? 

66) Bonus: bloopers!

67)  Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

[tsarisfanfiction]

Fic Rec Bingo

Okie dokie, this is the Fan Rec Bingo - idea courtesy of lightvials on twitter, but I don’t have a twitter that I ever use, so I’m filling it out here instead.  Let’s see if I can fill it all out!

I did, and then some.  To save poor dashboards, it’s all under the cut!  If I know author tumblrs they’ve been mentioned - I know pitifully few so if anyone knows the ones I don’t, let me know so I can mention them, too!

A fic you love without knowing the source material: The Dragon-King’s Temple by Kyral (Stargate SG-1/Avatar the Last Airbender)

Through the spite of the spirits or plain rotten chance, a door that would have been better left untouched has opened. On the other hand, with Fire and Earth as one's allies, sometimes escaping is the easy part. Rated: Gen.  AO3 Archive Warning for Graphic Descriptions of Violence. Characters: Zuko, Toph Beifong, Janet Fraiser, Sam Carter, Jack O’Neill, and more Words: 196311.  Status: Complete

I very rarely read fics without already knowing the canon, but one that I think counts would be a Stargate/ATLA crossover, because I know nothing about Stargate and I have yet to finish ATLA!  This was recommended to me due to the creativity of the author regarding a language barrier (something I always enjoy, and my friend knows that).

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A fic series with a premise that shouldn’t work but it does: Crazy=Genius by blackkat (Bleach/Harry Potter)

Minerva McGonagall isn't about to let Harry go back to the Dursleys after his first year. She finds an alternative, and along the way, Bazzard Black finds that he might have more family left than he'd ever thought. Rated: Teen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bazz-B, Harry Potter, and more Words: 21682.  Status: Incomplete

Okay, I cheated and picked a series.  Not my fault blackkat decided to make this universe a series of oneshots rather than a single entity and you’re certainly not getting me to only pick one of the five already published ones.  Bazz-B being a Black and also kinda a wizard is a brilliant concept, and having him adopting Harry is pure gold.  Not sure how crazy Quincy adopting poor, neglected Boy Who Lives works, but it does!

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A fic you’ve reread several times: The Guardian (Director’s Cut) by SGTBrowncoat (Naruto)

Itachi Uchiha receives his first mission in ANBU: protecting a certain trouble making Jinchuriki. He bonds quickly with the boy, but dark forces rise to threaten Itachi, Naruto, and those they care for most. Rated: T.  Canon-typical violence Characters: Uchiha Itachi, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Shisui and more (includes Uchiha Itachi/Inuzuka Hana background pairing) Words: 35945.  Status: Complete

Back to my first ever fandom, here, and a really fun non-massacre AU fic, with lots of Itachi and Shisui goodness.  There are a fair few ANBU-looking-after-kid-Naruto fics but this is by far my favourite of them!  There is a sequel, but unfortunately it’s not finished and hasn’t been updated in a long time (I live in hope!)

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A fic you still remember many years later: While The Ring Went South by Thundera Tiger (Lord of the Rings)

What happened after the Fellowship left Rivendell but before they came down off Caradhras? Behold the missing scenes. Rated: K+.  Canon-typical violence Characters: Legolas, Gimli, Aragon, Gandalf, the whole Fellowship Words: 149624.  Status: Complete

I refound this fic completely by accident the other week, after first reading it (according to when I favourited it on FFN) in 2011!  It was just as amazing as I remembered, and is really the standard I hold all other LotR fics to, especially ones that involve the entire, pre-Moria, Fellowship.  It has a sequel but sadly that’s not been updated in some time (but again, I live in hope!)

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A comfort fic: There May Be Some Collateral Damage by metisket (Bleach/Harry Potter)

Ichigo’s been ordered to go undercover at a magic school to bodyguard a kid named Harry Potter, and this would be fine, except that he’s about as good at bodyguarding as he is at magic. And he considers it a good day, magic-wise, if he hasn’t set anything on fire. Rated: Gen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kurosaki Ichigo, Harry Potter, Weasley Twins, and more. Words: 61209.  Status: Complete

I have no idea what this means by ‘Comfort Fic’ but if I want a laugh and Umbridge getting a pile of comeuppance, this is definitely the fic I’ll turn to.  As the A/N says: ‘sending Ichigo to Hogwarts is basically the same as swinging a wrecking ball directly into the side of the castle’.  Beautiful chaos is what we get.  Beautiful, beautiful chaos.

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A cathartic fic: See You Again by cookietosser (One Piece)

Rocinante has been through a lot in his life. Adding uncontrollable time travel into the mix? That's just the icing on the cake. Rated: Teen.  AO3 Violence and (canon) Character Death Warnings Characters: Donquioxte Rocinante|Cora-san, Trafalgar Law, Heart Pirates Words: 15755.  Status: Complete

You want to rip my heart out and trample it into lots of little pieces while still making it all better because Law and Rocinante?  Well, this little time-traveller’s wife AU fic is just the one for all that.  Sad moments, frustrating moments, happy moments, all wrapped up in this oneshot!

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A fic you’d print and put on your bookshelf: Thrower of the Dart by Vathara (Artemis Fowl/The Avengers)

What might have happened instead of Artemis Fowl book 6, if it'd happened in the Marvel Universe. Megalomaniacs ahoy! Rated: Teen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings Characters: Artemis Fowl II, Tony Stark, and more Words: 101272.  Status: Complete

It’s long, it’s epic, and it would nestle in perfectly at home alongside my Artemis Fowl books on the bookshelf!  It’s not so much a rewrite of book 6 as a complete replacement of it, with a new plot and an all too familiar villain!

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A fic you associate with a song: Goodbye, Brother by Serena Estelle (Bleach)

Ilforte's final moments as I like to picture them-with his brother. Rated: T.  Canonical character death Characters: Szayelaporro Granz, Yylfordt Granz Words: 3073.  Status: Complete

Might be cheating, because the author actually names a song in their starting A/N, but this definitely brings to mind Exile Vilify by The National, and I fully recommend listening to that (on loop - there is a 10-hour loop version on youtube) as you watch this for maximum tear-jerking effect.

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A fic that inspires you: Magic of the Rose Cross by Awensweth (Harry Potter/D.Gray-Man)

In Harry's 4th year the Triwizard Tournament is brought back to live, but the appearance of a fourth mysterious school about which only Dumbledore seems to know brings new secrets with it for everyone. Who are the students of Rose Cross? Rated: Mature.  AO3 Chose Not To Use Warnings Characters: Harry Potter, Allen Walker, and more Words: 66632.  Status: Incomplete

I have been inspired by many, many fics, but I chose this one in particular because it was the main one that inspired me to join the HP/DGM Triwizard Tournament wave of the early 2010s - indeed, The Combat School is one of my most popular fics, but without this and other fics of the trope, I probably would never have written it!  That’s not to say I’ve copied this fic - aside from the base trope I tried my best to make my own work unique against the others, and hope that I succeeded!  Sadly, this fic is incomplete and hasn’t been updated for some time, but it’s still worth a read.

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A fic that brought you on board a new ship:  Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by MsChunks (Boku no Hero Academia)

Uraraka and Bakugo have a secret. It’s not what their classmates think it is. Rated: Teen.  AO3 Chose Not To Use Warnings Characters: Bakugo Katsuki, Uraraka Ochako Words: 182478.  Status: Complete

Putting Bakugo and Uraraka together was something I’d never considered, and I started this fic with some trepidation after a friend recommended it to me, but said friend has never steered me wrong with fics and didn’t start now!  Fake dating, Uraraka actually being badass, the most terrifying couple in class 1-A?  That’s this fic.

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A fic you wish could be a movie: Mission Impossible by Loopstagirl (Thunderbirds)

Being selected for his first solo mission should have been exciting for Captain Scott Tracy of the Air Force. But there was something else at play. Something dangerous and deadly. Something that could cost him more than his life. Rating: T.  Warnings: Violence Characters: Scott Tracy, Gordon Tracy Words: 55048.  Status: Complete

Air Force!Scott?  W.A.S.P.!Gordon?  On a joint mission together?  Yes, gimme, gimme, gimme.  Gimme Scott’s awkwardness alone on a boat of WASP personnel, gimme Gordon’s horror when he realises the suicide mission pilot is his older brother, and now give that all to me on screen!  And we can’t forget the Hood, of course!  Might be a bit higher rating than the current Thunderbirds stuff, but hey, I’m old enough.  Gimme.

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A fic that led to you becoming friends with the author: The Gabriel Project by Aceidia (Bleach)  - @thetwelvecaesars​

When Szayelaporro knew Aizen's reign in Heuco Mundo was coming to a close, he took matters into his own brilliant hands. He reincarnates himself and the other nine Espadas into a new life full of surprising turns and irony. Yet, the harmony and ignorance is not forever as they begin to remember. Rating: M (violence) Characters: Szayelaporro Granz, the Espada Words: 116030.  Status: Complete

Well, this fic sparked off a friendship that’s still very much there, even if neither of us write much for Bleach any more!  What started off as a challenge to identify who the Espada were turned into essay-length PMs about anything and everything, and then RP groups and now random emails about whatever at random times of the day (different timezones don’t help)!

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A fic you’ve gushed about irl: Living Like Kings by CLynnB (Thunderbirds)

The world wants to know more about the Tracy brothers. So Lady Penelope takes it upon herself to show the world just who they are. Through YouTube. Rating: Gen.  AO3 Author Chose Not To Use Warnings Characters: Lady Penelope-Creighton-Ward, Tracy Family (background Pen/Ink, Scayo, Virg/Brains) Words: 35348.  Status: Complete

I love social media fics like this one, and my poor boyfriend got the brunt of it while we were on holiday... he knows basically nothing about Thunderbirds except for what he’s heard from me (which is a lot because he’s amazing and lets me gush).  I mean, Tracy boys playing “The Floor Is Lava?” and tackling each other to the ground?  Gimme.

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A fic you associate with a place: Thunderbirds Meet Thunderbirds - Alan trip in to the movie verse by ak47stylegirl (Thunderbirds) @ak47stylegirl​

Crazy stuff always happens to Tracys, don't they?  Add felling into a different world to the list. Rating: Gen. AO3 No Archive Warnings Characters: Alan Tracy, Tracy Family times two Words: 25599.  Status: Incomplete

This might be a little random, but this fic was one that I found while I was ill on holiday to the Lake District last autumn.  Sadly, it’s the only trip there I’ve ever done where I couldn’t climb a single fell (and my car’s clutch burnt out after having to reverse up a pass... thanks bus coming the other way), and this fic’s updates while I was there kept me sane!  This has actually very loosely inspired a fic of my own which is in the making - which might get posted in the next year if I’m lucky...  Still waiting eagerly for this fic’s next update :D

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A fic that made you gasp out loud: The Colours Of The World by MaiKusakabe (Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter)

When Roy Mustang went to retrieve his eyesight from Truth, he wasn’t expecting to end up doing a job in exchange. It couldn’t even be an easy job, of course, because Edward’s assessment of Truth was a pretty accurate one. Rating: Mature.  AO3 No Archive Warnings (but watch for canon-typical violence) Characters: Roy Mustang, Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black, and more Words: 120578.  Status: Incomplete

Badass Roy yesss.  Twists and turns and Truth is a pretentious you-know-what but Voldemort’s even worse so where does that leave poor Roy except caught in the middle and very much a war veteran at this point... much to the horror of a few wizards!

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A fic you found at the right time: Seafaring Heartless: Exit North Blue by Avian Swallow (One Piece)

Pirates may be considered evil by the majority, but Law had met quite a few of the world's navy who were corrupt to the core and putting up a very thick facade. He reasoned that if he was going to manipulate and scheme his way into that goal, at least he was going to be honest enough to admit it. Rating: T.  Canon-typical situations Characters: Trafalgar Law, Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Heart Pirate OCs Words: 159644.  Status: Complete

Is there ever a ‘wrong time’ to find a fic?  (a 100k+ at 4am debatable, but shh).  When I craved Heart Pirate content, this fic (and its sequel, still in progress but updating) appeared!  Only loosely clings to canon at the moment, thanks to some SBS revelations, but with well developed OCs to fill the faces we have no names or personalities for at the moment!

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A fic that you would read fic of: Only a Boy by Riddle Lee (Harry Potter/Merlin)

Merlin has changed Camelot forever but while that part of his life is complete, destiny has a new task for him. Now he has to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hide the fact that he's the Merlin, and defeat a Dark Lord that's messing with magic he knows nothing about. Rating: T.  Canon-typical situations Characters: Merlin, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, and more Words: 340998.  Status: Incomplete

An amazing universe with Slytherin!Merlin, no Harry Potter/Boy Who Lived, and the good old ‘hiding real identity’ trope to underpin the whole series.  Currently just into the start of Merlin’s third year at Hogwarts, aka “The Prisoner of Azkaban”.  This universe has so much to give, although Riddle Lee is doing a fantastic job at it.  It’s incomplete and slow to update but does update!

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A fic that made you laugh out loud: HOW’S THE COMA GOING by ossicle (One Piece)

Kidd and Penguin keep trying to murder each other and Law is done with their shit. He assigns them to take care of each other’s injuries so they’ll learn to get along. It doesn’t work. Rating: Teen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings Characters: Eustass Kid, Penguin, Trafalgar Law (background KidLaw) Words: 2062.  Status: Complete

Oh this one had me in stitches basically the whole time.  Kid’s bedside manner should not be mimicked in the slightest, but a beautiful bonding fic in typical pirate fashion - beat ‘em up ‘til they have your approval.  Poor, poor, Law.

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A fic with a line (or two) that you’ve memorised by heart: On Their Side by Gumnut (Thunderbirds) - @gumnut-logic​

She trusted these boys with a great deal. Rating: Teen.  AO3 No Warnings Apply Characters: Colonel Casey, Virgil Tracy, Gordon Tracy Words: 1116.  Status: Complete

I think I have basically the entire thing memorised.  This one also falls into several other categories, most notably ones that made me laugh and ones that I’ve reread several times, but it really belongs here on this list.

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A fic that gave you butterflies: it’s a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (Miraculous Ladybug)

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her). Rating: Teen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings Characters: Adrien Agreste|Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng|Ladybug (all sides of the love square) Words: 5611.  Status: Complete

Aaah I have a weak spot for strong!Marinette and this fic ticks that box time and time again, with a side of blushing!Adrien and general love-struck Adrien/Chat.  I mean, what more could a girl need?

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A fic that embodies something you value in life: Team Itachi by Killer of thy Cookies (Naruto)

What if the Third Hokage stopped the council before they could order Itachi to commit the Uchiha Clan Massacre? Itachi is one of the village's strongest ninja, and has now been given the task of being a Jonin sensei, assigned to Team 7 with his little brother Sasuke, the 'dead last' Naruto Uzumaki, and fangirl Sakura Haruno. This is Team Itachi. Rating: T.  Canon-typical situations Characters: Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, and more Words: 155092.  Status: Complete

(Yup, another non-massacre AU.)  Loyalty.  Honestly, there are so many fics that have loyalty in them, especially in fandoms like Naruto, where loyalty is a pretty big thing anyway (alongside friendship, of course), but this one is Itachi staying openly loyal to the village because Sarutobi actually saved the clan, and of course lovely bonds between the team!

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A favourite AU: A Son By Any Other Name by carryonstarkid (Thunderbirds)

Cursed as a child, Scott Tracy lives a life in which everyone he encounters must follow all of his given commands. Rating: Teen.  AO3 Chose Not To Use Warnings Characters: Scott Tracy, Tracy Brothers, Kayo Kyrano, and more Words: 83429.  Status: Complete

I rarely read AU fics - my preferred sandbox is the canon one, or a nice slice of canon diversion, rather than completely taking characters out of their home and dumping them somewhere entirely new.  This fairytale AU, however - reminding me very much of Sleeping Beauty except instead of sleeping it’s, well, what the summary says - is fantastically well done and addresses the strain such a thing would put on even the closest of family relationships.

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A fic you stayed up too late to finish reading: As N Approaches Infinity by Corisanna (Bleach/Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Despairing as yet another timeline goes horribly wrong, Homura wanders into Karakura. There she discovers that while the spiritually-aware people of Karakura were distracted by Ichigo Kurosaki and Xcution, Kyubey had managed to contract the Kurosaki sisters as magical girls. Drawing the attention of the shinigami could be just the advantage Homura needs. Rating: Teen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings but watch out for canon-typical situations for both fandoms (especially Madoka) Characters: Akemi Homura, Kurosaki Karin, Kurosaki Yuzu, Urahara Kisuke, and many more Words: 465297.  Status: Incomplete

There are many fanfictions that have kept me up til dawn.  Many.  This one, however, has literally robbed me of all my sleep and I’ve still been unable to finish it in one sitting.  It’s good, the pacing is fantastic, and with Homura as our leading lady, that means those time resets really hit hard when they happen (and they happen.  They really, really, happen).  Might be incomplete, but is still updating - and there’s plenty to keep you occupied in the meantime!

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A fic that made you feel seen: A Seed Once Grown by Darkestwolfx (Thunderbirds) - @darkestwolfx​

Believe it or not, they did have a garden on Tracy Island. It looked a little like a… tip. And that was being kind. Rating: Teen.  AO3 No Archive Warnings Characters: Ned Tedford, Tracy Family Words: 4785.  Status: Complete

Okay, so I’m taking this literally because I spend a lot of time feeling invisible on the internet so having a fic written for me from someone I’d barely spoken to before was a whole pile of screaming.  Not that it’s the first time someone’s written a fic for me, but the other ones have been done by friends I’d already known for some time, and not someone in a fandom I’m just starting to find my feet in.

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Free space: whoo boy, fun time!  There are a few fics on the top of my head that didn’t fill any of the above prompts (or got beaten to the punch by another), so my wildcard space is going to be a few fic links without the extra detail because I’ve already spent about 12 hours on this to get to this point (did I get sidetracked and re-read a bunch?  You bet) and I’d quite like to also get some fic written today, too!

Eight-Day Week (JoJo Spotting) by TrufflestheMushroom (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure)

The Trouble With Eastern by teaandtumblr (One Piece)

Remembrance by ClioSelene (One Piece)

Legacy by MaiKusakabe (One Piece)

A Fleeting Smile by AnonymousTwit (Boku no Hero Academia)

Too Loud For Comfort by vaporeon_ninja (Boku no Hero Academia)

A Dragon’s Hoard by Chezka (Boku no Hero Academia)

Nine Lives by P_Artsypants (Miraculous Ladybug)

Chat’s Eye View (Love Letters To Paris) by Icka M Chif (Miraculous Ladybug)

Gabriel’s Lament by Chaotic Neutral (Miraculous Ladybug)

What The Cat Dragged In by Kyral (Avengers/Miraculous Ladybug)

Weekend Warrior by BlackDog_66 (Avengers)

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain (Avengers)

Autonomy by beetlebee (Naruto)

Great Minds by ScreamingViking (Final Fantasy VII)

Dear Kunsel by Sinnatious (Final Fantasy VII)

Cracks in the knight by authorettejasmin (Magic Kaito)

To Wrap An Elvish Princeling by Jael (Lord of the Rings)

There are more, many more, and I’ll probably post a few more recs around - you can also find some on my blog and I’ll try and get that updated with a few more at some point because there are many more than that!