#it's not just a tv show okay it's part of me

[mountttmase]

Don’t Get Caught

Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - smut

‘So it’s just a shed?’

‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’

‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.

‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’

You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.

‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.

‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’

‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.

‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.

‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’

‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’

‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.

‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’

‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.

Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.

Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.

‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.

‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’

‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’

‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’

‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.

‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’

‘Why don’t you turn it off?’

‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.

‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.

‘How?’

‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.

‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’

‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’

‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.

‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’

He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.

‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.

‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.

‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.

‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride

Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.

‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’

You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.

‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.

As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.

He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.

‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’

‘I’m a good girl for you’

‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’

‘Masey’

‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’

‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.

‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.

‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.

‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’

‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.

‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’

You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.

‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’

‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’

‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.

‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.

‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’

‘Masey, I’m so close’

‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’

‘Mase’

‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.

‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.

‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.

‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.

‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’

‘Really? You don’t mind?’

‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.

‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’

‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.

‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’

‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’

‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.

[oracle-of-dream]

Stuck

Minors DNI

(Not Proofread)

Summary: After a prank, you end up stuck in an elevator with your boyfriend whose problem is getting worse by the minute.

Warnings: Male reader, Degreading, Rouch Sex, Lots of Cum, Sex Drugs (Consensual), Blowjob, Swallowing Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Dom!Myungho,

Wordcount: 2.4k

While scrolling through TikTok, you landed on a page of a couple that both took sexual enhancement drugs and tried to make it a full day without touching each other. The loser got some sort of punishment, but only after mindblowing sex.

You looked over at your boyfriend, Myungho, who was innocently watching TV. Would he be able to hold out? You leaned onto his shoulder and he patted your head to acknowledge your presence. You kissed his neck, "Hey babe, would you wanna try a fun trend?"

Myungho didn't look at you as he said, "If this is the orange trend from last week, I already told you I'd peel however many oranges you want."

"It's a new thing! Just hear me out before you say no."

Your boyfriend looked away from the TV with concern on his face. "Why would you think I'd say no?"

You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. "Please just promise you'll hear me till the end," You begged.

"Okay, I promise," He chuckled. Myungho turned to face you and muted his show, giving his undivided attention.

"So the trend is for us to take a sex drug and we try not to have sex. The loser gets a punishment from the winner."

Your boyfriend frowned slightly. "Are you sure that's the trend? That sounds like a waste of money."

You groaned, "Please! This would be so fun, and we can fuck it all out when it's finished."

"We could just fuck now, it's not like I don't want to have sex. Plus, this wouldn't really be a competition. You're way hornier than I am, you'd cave before the medicine kicked in." Myungho smirked at your expression as he teased you.

"That's so not true! I could totally outlast you!" You pushed him, "I bet that you'll cave first. If you do, you have to buy me a meal every day for the month."

Myungho raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you lose, I want the same thing. And I've been eating a lot lately."

You laughed cockily. "I know I can beat you without trying."

"I'll go out, and buy the meds right now, and we can start today." Myungho left shortly after to go buy the medicine. While you were confident in your ability to hold back, you already had a plan to make sure you'd win... You poured two glasses of water and mixed a powered sex drug into one of the two cups. When Myungho came back, you were ready with the water.

"I've got the water for the pill. Let's do this already!" You were smiling like the devil, and your boyfriend was none the wiser. He gave you one pill, and you gave him the cup of water you specially prepared for him. "On three, and you have to swallow it," You added.

Myungho nodded. "Don't try and cheat to win. If you do, I'll break you later," He said as he winked before swallowing the pill and the whole glass of water.

These words made your whole body shudder, but it was too late to back out now... You swallowed your pill and drank some water. Waiting for it to kick the boring part. You sat on the couch, watching your phone while Myungho went back to his show. It wasn't immediate, but you felt your body get warmer. You peeked over at Myungho, who looked fine. You could see his muscles from the opening in his sleeveless shirt. He'd been going to the gym a lot lately, and it was really paying off. He looked good.

You mentally slapped yourself, pulling yourself out of it. That's just the drugs talking. If you were feeling fucked up, then Myungho had to be the same, right?

You peered at him. "Feeling anything?"

"Nope," He said flatly. "I told you this was a waste of money."

"Just give it time!"

He shook his head. "I did. Nothing's happening, and we've got somewhere to go tonight. So let's forget the game and just get ready."

You pouted to yourself as Myungho got up to go get dressed. The two of you were invited to a party, and you've been begging Myungho to go with you. So you couldn't pass it up now.

The two of you started getting ready, taking your time to do so. Even though he said to forget the game, you couldn't let it go. Every chance you could, you would accidentally tease him. Bending down in front of him, showing your ass. Making him button your shirt. Even forcing him to help you put on your pants. But still nothing...

"Y/n. Are you trying something?" He asked as he pulled your pants over your butt.

"No? What could I be trying?"

Myungho held your chin and lifted it to make you look at him. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Fuck. You were instantly hard. Myungho teased you, pulling you close to him so he could help you with your belt, making you press against his hard body. He moved and shifted, grinding your cock against him. You moaned into his shoulder. "Kitty?"

Fuck! Even calling you that name was enough to get you going. He only called you that when he really wanted your attention. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you being naughty? Do you need me to take care of you?"

You caught yourself about to say yes, but the smile on his face stopped you. "Babe! You're doing this on purpose!" You hit him, pushing him away from you as he chuckled.

"Weren't you doing the same not too long ago?"

"So!? You don't even look like you're bothered by it."

"Of course, I'm not. There's no way some silly drugs is gonna mess with me, but clearly, it's got you." Your boyfriend palmed you over your pants, making you melt into his embrace. "Just say you lose, then I can help you."

"You said the game was stupid..."

"Doesn't mean I don't like winning, right?"

You pushed him away from you again. "I'm not gonna lose! Just go get ready!"

Myungho raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to go to a party like this? You might bump into someone and cum," He said as he tried to hold in a laugh.

"I'm fine!" You stormed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

"No jerking off either!" He yelled from the other side of the door. "I'll know if you cum."

"S-Shut up!" You buried your face in your hands... There's no way you'd make it through the night. Much less the whole party. But you weren't going to drop out yet.

After calming down, you left the bathroom. Myungho was waiting for you in the living room. "Didn't cum on your own, did you?"

"No. Let's go." You pouted as you walked out the door.

Your boyfriend chased after you, catching up when you were waiting for the elevator. "Don't be like that, you suggested this game."

"Like what?" You pouted.

"Like a brat."

The door opened and you entered it with him.

"I'm not a brat. And I'm not mad."

Myungho leaned on the rail. "Then give me a kiss, show me you're not." You pecked him on the lips. "No. I want a kiss," He demanded.

You sighed before giving a real kiss, your lips meeting his gently. You went to pull away but his hands held you in place. One on your neck and one on your back. He continued the kiss as he bit at your lips–begging for more.

"Hey–" You pulled away before he pulled you back in. He devoured you with a hunger you'd never felt before. You danced around the elevator until you hit a wall, making the elevator shake to a halt. "What the fuck?" You pressed a button, but the elevator wouldn't respond. The symbol said you were on the 8th floor, two floors from your apartment. "Are we stuck?"

"Maybe you bumped into the emergency stop?"

"I didn't–you were attacking me and I backed up!"

"I'm not trying to say it's your fault," Myungho patted your head. "We're probably stuck in here until someone can turn it back on."

You sighed, thinking about the party. "Can we call for help?"

"No signal for me," Myungho showed you his phone. Your phone also had no signal...

"No signal, no way out... We're stuck! This really can't get worse..."

Myungho cleared his throat. "Well, I don't think this is a bad thing."

"How is this not a bad thing?"

"We have each other..." Myungho hugged you from behind, pulling you close to him. You could feel his cock, hard, rubbing against you. You pushed back against it, grinding softly as your own dick started to wake up from the action. "We're stuck in this small elevator, for who knows who long... We should try and make the best of it, right?"

"Yes," You moaned as your boyfriend kissed your neck.

Myungho's hips sharply hit against you, each mini-thrust knocking your breath away. "You want it, baby? You wanna take me in this elevator?" You nodded slowly as your body squirmed under his touch. "I'll have to cum in you so we don't make a mess, is that okay?"

You nod again. "Please, hurry up."

"Say what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, please, do it already..." You moaned as he slid your belt off and pulled your pants down. Your cock jumped out, twitching in the cold air.

"You're so cute. How can I resist you?" Myungho bit on your ears, before spitting in his hand. You could hear him wetting his cock, rubbing the excess on your hole. "I can't wait anymore..."

"Me either..."

Myungho pushed against your hole and his tip slipped inside you, making both of you moan loudly. It felt like your whole body was on fire, tingly all over, and it was just his tip. Your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you as he slowly pushed deeper, his muscles flexing and squeezing you. You've fucked Myungho before, but his cock felt bigger and stiffer than the other times. You could also tell he was trying his best to hold back from slamming himself into you.

Once his cock was completely sheathed in you, you moaned loudly at the fullness. "You like that? Full like a slut, and taking me so well," Myungho whispered to you, his voice low and husky as he panted heavily. He turned you and pushed your against the wall, your skin touching the cold metal, and your cock rutting against the railing.

"I–just–need–more!" You moaned in pleasure, each word jutting out of you as he thrust experimentally. "Myungie, more!"

"Don't say that! I'm trying to take it easy... If I don't hold back, I might hurt you," He smirked before thrusting again. He drank up your moans, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "You keep moaning so loud, someone's gonna hear how much you love my cock. Tell me how much you need my fat cock!" He grabbed your waist and thrust harder, his other hand made its way to your hair as he pushed you more against the wall. Your hard nipples were rubbed against the cold metal of the elevator walls.

All you could do was moan and scream as he picked up the pace steadily. You whined and moaned yourself into a mess, looking at your reflection in the metal. A slut, Myungho's slut, but you loved every second of it–arching your back to meet the thrusts given to you.

"Who owns you, Kitty?" Myungho slapped your ass, and a loud crack rang in your ears.

"Y-You!" You sucked in the air sharply from the pain. Myungho was fucking you so good already, but you needed more. "Myungie! I cheated, in the game. I was naughty–please break me!" You told on yourself, listening closely to his reaction.

"What did you do, Kitty?"

"I put stuff in your water. More sex stuff, to make you wanna fuck more."

He chuckled. "Really? You just wanted to get fucked even harder, didn't you? Even cheating to make sure I would absolutely break you?" Myungho pushed into you completely, pulling you against his body as he peeled your sweaty body off the wall. "Bad boys have to be punished," He whispered in your ear as his hand left your hair and squeezed your neck. He had a tight grip on you, cutting off your air as he slowly fucked you. Each thrust was slow but hard, knocking any remaining air out of you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt dizzy, you held on for as long as you could before tapping on his hand. He released you, as you gasped for air, but he didn't give you much time to recover. Both hands tighten a grip on your hips and thrust into you harshly, shaking the elevator. He wasn't holding it back anymore.

Your walls tightened with joy as your climax approached.

"And don't you care cum before I say so?" Myungho ordered.

You already knew not to, but he was abusing your spot so hard that it was hard to hold it in.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum–all inside you, fucking slut!" He said, breathing hard as he continued fucking you aggressively. It was a few moments before he dumped a massive load inside you, he wouldn't stop cumming and his whole body twitched. You bit your lip as you felt his load inside you. "I– can't stop cumming. Holy fuck..." Myungho bit into your shoulder as he lazily thrust his cum deeper into you.

When he finally stopped, you remembered to breathe. "Jesus... that was so good," you sighed, your whole body shaking.

Myungho pulled out of you with a loud squelch. "It's your turn, filthy cheater. I want you to cum for me." Myungho got on his knees, slipping your cock into his mouth as he jerked you off way too fast. You jerked and twitched from his roughness but moaned the loudest when you came. You came more than you have ever before, more than Myungho was expecting–cum slipped down his cheek as he tried his best to swallow it.

Once you stopped, you both took a moment to breathe before realizing... Myungho was still hard. He looked at you with a smirk. "Kitty, you're responsible for all this."

You couldn't escape him, trapped in the elevator–Myungho fucked you four more times before he finally tapped out. He had to carry you out of the elevator once it was fixed. He apologized to the apartment staff for the mess before rushing off with you–leaving them to clean a heavily cum-stained floor...

[d-criss-news]

Glee star Darren Criss says he is 'culturally queer' thanks to San Francisco upbringing

When Darren Criss broke out on Glee, he instantly became a "teenage dream" for viewers — especially for LGBTQ+ audiences, who were able to see themselves represented in a new way in television.

Criss himself identities as a straight, cisgender man, but he says that his upbringing in San Francisco, Calif., helped him understand the importance of his character, Blaine, and his character's relationship with Kurt (Chris Colfer).

When asked at the Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo (C2E2), what it was like portraying the groundbreaking relationship on television, Criss replied, "It was f---ing awesome.... Nowadays, we just call it a relationship on TV. But to contextualize it, a gay relationship on mainstream Fox, that's a pretty cool thing to be a part of," he said, adding emphasis when naming the network.

"I have been so culturally queer my whole life," he continued while appearing on a panel over the weekend. "Not because I'm trying — you know, actually, I was gonna say not because I'm trying to be cool but I'm gonna erase that, because I am trying to be cool. The things in my life that I have tried to emulate, learn from and be inspired by are 100 percent queer as f---."

"It was in queer communities that I've found people that I idolize, that I want to learn something from," he said. "And I'd say that's a gross generalization, that's a lot of things and a lot of people. But I grew up in San Francisco in the '90s. I watched men die. There was an awareness of the gay experience that was not a foreign concept to me. So, it was a narrative that I cared deeply about."

Criss also clarified that he didn't feel any ownership or entitlement over the role, but instead, felt a sense of responsibility once he was cast. "[I wasn't] like, 'I'm the man for the job,'" he explained. "They hired me...They said, 'You're the guy,' and I said, 'Okay, I'm the guy, I will do my best. I will do my best to talk about it in the way I believe and a way that I'm passionate about.'"

Criss portrayed Blaine Anderson for five of Glee's six seasons. He was introduced as an openly gay student at Dalton Academy and a member of a cappella group the Warblers in season 2. He recurred throughout the season. In season 3, Criss was upgraded to a series regular and Blaine transferred to William McKinley High School, home of Kurt and the New Directions. When the series ended, Blaine and Kurt were happily married after many ups and downs.

For Criss, Glee's legacy of portraying a relationship on television that so many people hadn't seen before was the most meaningful part of his experience. "In many ways, I'm glad it was me because it was a thing I really liked showing," he reflected. "It meant a great deal to me and it meant a great deal to other people. Because when people say they were affected by that show or that relationship, it's not because of me, it's because of that relationship on TV and the risks that people took to put that on TV."

"It took the people watching it to have the aptitude for seeing beyond what was maybe given to them in other avenues of culture. People of all ages, all spectrums of awareness say, 'I didn't grow up with a show like that and it was a really meaningful thing for me to see,' and I go I didn't grow up with a show like that and that would've been very meaningful for me too. Regardless of the fact that I'm a straight kid. That has value. For anyone who's been an underdog, we all know, in any shape or form — sexual, religious, biological — it has value because there's going to be a lot of people who see that and say, 'Okay, I can now understand this in a context that maybe I wasn't able to before.'

"It was a f-ing privilege," he concluded, "and I love talking about it and I'm so grateful I got to do it."

[thislovintime]

With Valerie Kairys Venet on the set of the TV show, and in 2016. (The last photo is a selfie taken by Peter - as Valerie recalled and shared on Facebook.)

Q: “What was it like having Peter Tork as a roommate [after the pilot episode]?” Valerie Kairys Venet: “Oh, god, it was wonderful. Are you kidding? We made him sing for his supper, my roommate and I. See, I had a roommate and so I called her up and I said, you know, I said, ‘...there’s this actor that I worked with and, you know, he’s from Connecticut and he doesn’t really have a place to stay here and until… you know, we just finished the pilot and, you know, he’s gonna wait for the pilot to be sold. Is it okay if he comes and stays with us?’ She’s an actress, too, you know, and she said, ‘Oh, yeah, sure, we’ll give him the downstairs.’ And I said, ‘Okay.’ So he had the couch in the downstairs, and we made him sing. (Laughs) He was wonderful. He really did enjoy it too, come on, you know. Peter has just been so dear to me and to my son. He’s a wonderful person and I love him dearly. I hope that they all hear me and they know how much I love them.” - Zilch Podcast, No. 20, 2014 “I just fell in love with those guys. They were all so sweet. […] Really the nicest guys in the world. I do consider them family, my TV brothers. I know they do love me and I love them very much. And it was so great on that set. And you’re right, they had so much pressure on them and everything. But every morning on the set, you know, you walk out to see what they’re lighting, get your coffee and whatever, see what they’re lighting or what they’re setting up there, and here comes Davy, big hug, big kiss, you know, ‘Good morning.’ And then, you know, more arms around me, oh, there’s Peter and, you know, ‘Good morning.’ And, you know, hug Micky, hug Michael. And that’s the way we were, my relationship with them: very loving, very loving. To this day. These guys are so, so much a part of my life. [...] And then [Peter] went to stay with Michael and Phyllis, and I took him over to Michael’s house after that. But that was wonderful because Peter was a fine musician, and he — I said, ‘Where’s your banjo?’ And he said, ‘Oh, I had to pawn it, I was broke.’ And I said, ‘Oh, no!’ I said, ‘We can’t have that.’ And so, you know, we went to the pawn shop and I got that out for him. That’s the first time I’m saying this, telling this story publicly. But bless his heart, I loved Peter so much. […] [Peter] was brilliant [as a musician]. He was also a teacher, he was a high school teacher. […] And the students loved him, and that’s something in high school, you know? That’s something in high school. He was such a good person.” - Valerie Kairys Venet, The Vintage Rock & Pop Shop, 89.1 WFDU FM, July 14, 2019 (Photo 3) “Pantages Theatre. The last time I saw Peter. Thank God we got to say ‘I love you.’” - Valerie Kairys Venet, Facebook, September 2019

[datshitrandom]

How was to be in a gay relationship (klaine) on screen?

“It was fucking awesome man. I mean the main thing here, like not because I’m trying to be blasé about the obvious thing in this question because we are saying that this is a gay relationship, nowadays, we just call it a relationship on tv, but to contextualize it, a gay relationship on mainstream Fox Network, that’s a pretty cool thing to be a part of. I often equate my relationship to that whole experience to Slumdog Millionaire which is, if you are familiar with Slumdog Millionaire is a kid that gets ask a bunch of questions and he just so happens to have the experience to answer this very specific things, now being cisgender straight kid you go 'oh oh what? are you going to allow this guy to talk gay shit?', I’ve been so culturally queer my whole life, not because I’m trying you know, actually, I was gonna say not because I’m trying to be cool but I’m gonna erase that, is because I am trying to be cool. All the sh— in my life that I have tried to emulate, learn from and be inspired by are one hundred percent queer as f—. It was in queer communities that I’ve found people that I idolize, that I want to be, to learn something from. And I’d say that’s a gross generalization, that’s a lot of things and a lot of people. But I grew up in San Francisco in the ’90s. I watched men die. There was an awareness of the gay experience that was not a foreign concept to me. So, it was a narrative that I cared deeply about. I wasn’t like a f— saint or like 'I’m the man for the job', they hired me and they said, 'You’re the guy,' and I said, 'Okay, I’m the guy I will do my best, I will do my best to talk about it in the way I believe and a way that I’m passionate about'. So in many ways I’m glad that it was me because it was a thing that I really like showing up for and it meant a great deal to me that it meant a great deal to other people. Because when people say they were affected by that show or that relationship, it’s not because of me, it’s because of that relationship on a TV and the risks that people took to put that on TV and most important of all it took the people watching it to have the "aptitude" for seeing beyond what was maybe given to them in other avenues of culture. People of all ages, all spectrums of awareness say, 'I didn’t grow up with a show like that and it was a really meaningful thing for me to see,’ and I go ‘I didn’t grow up with a show like that’ and that would’ve been very meaningful for me too, you know?, regardless of the fact that I’m a straight kid. That has value. For anyone who’s been an underdog, we all know, in any shape or form — sexual, religious, biological, whatever — it has value because there’s going to be a lot of people who see that and go, 'Okay, I can now understand this in a context that maybe I wasn’t able to before'. So short story long, what was it like? It was a fucking privilege and I love talking about it and I’m so grateful I got to do it." - Darren Criss at the Chicago Comic & Entertainment Expo Q&A | April 27th, 2024 

[hyperfixiation-station]

The Filler Fics Pt.1

Beach Day Pt.1- Travel

Part 2

TW: Canon divergence, military inaccuracies, mentions of injuries/hospitals Inspired by @shyravenns art Summary: This is the first of many sitcom-style filler fics. Yk, the ones where they go to the beach, or go to the store, etc, etc. I am open to suggestions, as I don't really watch sitcoms, so please comment or request or DM me ideas!! This one is, of course, a beach-day fic that I have spilt into 2 parts. this is the getting there portions, pt.2 will be the beach :) WC:1080

It had been a long few months. The threat of global annihilation, the hunt for Makarov, Soap getting shot, it was just a lot, and they all needed a break.

Price had watched Gaz and Ghost spend night after sleepless night at Soap’s bedside, refusing to do anything until the Scotsman woke up. And he had been right there with them, although Ghost wouldn’t talk to him, the Lt. still pissed that Price’s actions, or rather inactions, may have gotten Soap killed. Price couldn't blame him. It’s not like he hadn’t been fixated on that one moment, mentally berating himself for stopping Soap from killing Makarov in the first place. He would have gotten in a shit-load of trouble for it, but anything would have been better than…well, he didn’t even want to think it.

The team couldn’t take another loss so soon after Roach’s death. Price knew that. Knew that if Soap didn’t make it his team would fall apart. And it would be his fault. 

Thankfully, Soap was alright. He’d woken up a little disoriented, with no recollection of the week leading up to his…head wound. Other than some faint ringing in his ear and occasionally bouts of dizziness, he was alright, much to the relief of his squad members. However tensions were still running high. Just because the Scotsman was awake and talking didn’t mean the very real fear that his friends had felt over the past few weeks had vanished.  

There were nights Price found himself studying Soap, watching the rise and fall of his chest proving he was alive. He’d seen Ghost reach up from his bunk and grab the Scot’s wrist, checking for a pulse after waking from what Price assumed was a nightmare. Things got a little better once Soap didn’t have to wear gauze over the wound anymore, but the scar was still an ugly reminder of what had almost happened.  

Soap was constantly mother-henned now, not allowed to do training, having meals brought to him, never going anywhere by himself. It was starting to piss him off, and Price could see it. Tensions were running high, and it was only a matter of time before someone snapped. 

“Give the boys some time off, time away from the battlefield. Time to recuperate and settle back in. They’ll be okay.” Laswell told him at their bi-weekly meeting they hadn’t had in 3 months. Price booked 4 flights and a week-long stay at a beach-house off the Coast of California that same night.

However, the flight left in 5 hours and he still hadn’t told his men. He moves through the base, heading towards the rec room that he knew they hang out at, hoping they are all in one spot. 

Aaaaand bingo!

 Ghost is sprawled out on the couch, Soap sitting on the floor, leaning against his thigh, with Gaz in the armchair opposite, watching some stupid show on the little TV they have. Price can’t help but stare at the long, inch wide streak where Soap’s hair hadn’t quite grown back, a grim reminder of how close he came to losing one of his men. His eyes are drawn from Soap's skull by Gaz’s laughter, the man's head tilted back, shoulders shaking at something that was said on the T.V. 

The show cuts to commercial, and Price figures it’s as good a time as any to cut in. 

“Alright boys, pack your bags. We’re going stateside.” All three of them look up at Price in varying degrees of confusion, “Laswell decided after Soap's near-death experience we all needed a little R&R, so we’re heading to the beach.” 

“Ah’ll finally get tae see that ‘impeccable bronze’, eh Lt?” Soap nudges Ghost, a grin splitting his face.

“We’ll see Johnny.” 

“The beach, captain?” 

“Yes Gaz, the beach. You got complaints, go talk to Laswell.” 

“Hey, no complaints here sir! Just makin’ sure.”

“Good. Because we leave in an hour so you don’t have time to complain anyway.” 

“An hour??”

“No time f’r y’r beauty regime, Gaz.” 

“Ah shaddup, just cause you’re jel-”

“Boys! Get to going!” 

“Aye sir!” Price shakes his head as he watches them file out, Gaz and Ghost subconsciously sandwiching Soap in between them. The Scot shoves Gaz, his shoulders shaking as the shorter man lets out an angry squawk.  Things have been tense, sure, but he can’t help his smile as his boys walk off, alive and well. 

Ghost hates flying. Well, sort of. Military transport ain’t bad in his opinion, but when he has to fly commercial? With civilians? And screaming babies? He hates it. Hates it hates it hates it. 

He's dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a black surgical mask adorning his face. HE may have gotten comfortable with his team seeing his face, but the rest of the pubic had not lived through numerous near death experiences alongside him, and thus did not get that honor. Covid had at least helped with the stares, nowadays no one really batted an eyes at him, which did, surprisingly, ease his discomfort.

He shifts in line, sandwiched between Gaz and Soap as they wait to board. Soap is turned slightly, placing the scar on the side of his head directly in Ghost's line of sight. Gods he wishes he could look anywhere else. But its to no avail. No matter how many time Johnny had reassured him he was 'okay', Ghost couldn't get the image of his teammate, his brother-in-arms, his friend unconscious in his own blood, out of his head. He just couldn't.

Yeah, sure, he should have told the court-mandated therapist about that, but the she wouldn't have signed off on him going back to service and then where would he be? That right, no-

"Ghost!" He's snapped out of his reverie by Price, who is giving him the look. Whatever. Price should know by now that he wasn't gonna spill his guts to anyone, much less someone with the power to kick him off the team.

He hands his ticket to the attendant, mumbling a 'thank yo' before following along after Johnny, hands shoved in his pockets. Johnny takes the window seat, so he takes the aisle, condemning Gaz to the middle. Besides, he was the only one that would fit there anyways.

The plane takes off and, as if on cue, a baby starts screaming in the front. Ghost sighs and slouches in his seat. This was going to be a looooong flight.

Let me know what you think:))

[callmelittlesunshinefics]

Dancing On My Own (Gambit X Reader, Part One)

Alrighty folks, this was meant to be a quick fluffy one shot that keeps getting longer and more angsty and has been sitting in my drafts for entirely too long now. Still very much a WIP that will be continued this week or next, PG13 for the time being with potential to take a turn for spicy down the line :)

A/N: Some quick background, the reader (Y/N in fic, described with she/her pronouns) is based off of an OC I tend to pull out pretty frequently. Half human, half angel, displaced from their home universe and dropped into this one (in which Lucifer, the tv show, is also cannon because why not maybe do a crossover down the line?). Gambit x Reader is the main ship we're sailing towards, but there's definitely some Logan x Reader if you squint. OH and last last thing, there's a party and I'm shamelessly linking the dress I had in mind for the reader here.

gif credit :) : @counterspelling

Dropping below a read more, don't be shy, come say hi when you're done reading! :)

“‘Stay for the summer!’ they said, ‘quiet and relaxing’ they said!” You throw the words you were told back at Jubilee who looks back at you completely unfazed as you continue untangling string lights to hang in the garden. 

“Honestly Y/N if you had stopped for two seconds to think about who was telling you that, you probably would’ve gone back to LA.” 

She was completely right, of course. You showed up to Xavier’s school not a mutant, not fully human either, and just looking for a place on the east coast to stay. Your uncle Lucifer made a few calls, found a friend willing to host a universe-displaced nephilim, and the rest was history. You might not be a mutant, but you were a partial human with powers you couldn’t always understand, and even other angels in this universe weren’t always able to help. Charles met and understood you quicker than anyone you’ve ever encountered in this universe or the next, so when you were asked to extend your stay and take on some guardian duties over the summer you were happy enough to agree. 

“Jean is the one who told you it would be relaxing, and Jean’s idea of relaxing is staying at a constant level 8 of activity.” 

“How is that not like the school year?” You rolled your eyes, dropping the lights. 

“Well during the school year she bounces between a 9 and 10, reserving 7s and 8s for the weekend. I can make you a diagram or something if you need it.” 

“I’m going to need a lot more than that by the time we’re done here.” 

“Maybe Gambit can help you with that?” Remy had sauntered over from the basketball court, at least that’s what you assumed given his current state of undress. 

“Unless you’re here to help decorate, I don’t think so handsome. If Jean catches us behind schedule the phoenix might make a reappearance…” You looked around and took a deep breath, realizing that other than the lights, everything looked pretty set. There was a reasonable sized clearing in the garden and Jean had hired a company to install a temporary dance floor. Chairs and tables were scattered around picnic style, and Jubilee had done an amazing job of setting up the bar despite being the only one unable to drink, legally.

“I think it’s actually just the lights,” Jubilee nodded to the messy pile at your feet, “And I think Gambit would be more help with that than me anyway, so?” 

“Go ahead,” you nodded smiling and she ran over to hug you, “And if you go to the mall, bring me back a pretzel!!!” You yelled after her knowing it was useless, she’d bring you a pretzel whether she heard you or not. 

“Avoiding me, chere?” Gambit eyed you with his usual flirtatious undertone that you couldn’t make heads or tails of. 

“In fact, I am. Grab that end?” You handed him the lights as he waited for an explanation, “Okay, I’m going to sit in the tree, I just need you to feed me the lights as we move. Ready?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer, disappearing and reappearing in the branch just above his head. 

Gambit stared back troubled and suspicious, so you nodded and gave him the sarcastic, albeit not entirely untrue, answer he was waiting for, “Oh Remy my attraction to you is just so strong and all consuming that I had to avoid you in order to get anything done at all. Every second I can’t throw myself at you is torture. Et cetera, et cetera, please start passing me the lights so I can go inside and shower.” 

He laughed and finally did as you said, “You know if you wanted ol’Gambit all you had to do was ask.” 

The two of you worked in a comfortable silence passing the lights through the trees. Just as you finished wrapping the last string, your footing slipped and you let out a quick yelp before bracing yourself for a fall that never came. 

“I never would have guessed angels could be so clumsy.” 

“If we weren’t you’d be short of a pickup line. Tell me honestly, how many times have you asked a lady if she fell from heaven?” Remy laughed and began walking away with you still in his arms. 

“Not as many as you think, chere. Are we about done out here?” 

You looked around and nodded, “Finally, yes. It was a good catch by the way, but I think I can walk on my own.” 

Placing you back on the ground, the two of you walked towards the mansion in another comfortable silence. Remy was probably tied with Jubilee as your closest friend in the school. You could remember the first day you arrived, how he couldn’t stop watching you. It wasn’t until later that same night, you were out in the garden and could still sense him watching you, that you decided to do something about it. You walked right up to him, introduced yourself, and asked him to kindly explain why he was staring at you like he’s seeing a ghost. 

It turned out the boy who grew up being told he was a demon had a lot of mixed feelings discovering angels and demons were not only real, but one of them was living under his roof. Remy felt a bit silly admitting it to you, but he owed you an honest answer when you confronted him so directly. And when he told you what people had said about him, what he suspected his own parents must have thought of him, your heart broke. You told him stories of all the demons and monsters you’ve encountered, and reassured him that he didn’t come close to fitting the bill.

“What’s on your mind, Remy?” There was quiet and then there was Quiet. You were still pretty new, but you knew well enough when something was bothering him.   

“Are you heading back?” You stopped short, and he stopped to face you. 

“Back where, Rem?” 

“Anywhere that’s not here.” He was facing you but he wouldn’t quite look at you, as if he didn’t actually want to hear the answer.

You took a deep breath, “The honest answer is that I don’t know. I don’t really feel like LA is where I belong, but I’m not a mutant or a gifted youngster either. I mean, I’m not even from this u-” 

“Okay, okay.” Gambit interrupted you with a hug, correctly sensing an impending panic attack from you, “Gambit just worried he won’t get to see you s’all.” 

You took a deep breath, sighing into the hug, “Well that’s really stupid.”  He pulled back to look at you, full of confusion. “It’s really stupid because if I were going anywhere you’d be the first person I tell, and because it takes me about 5 seconds flat to get anywhere. I’d be back before you even knew I was gone.”

You smiled wistfully and he returned it, “I’d know.” 

The two of you continued heading in and you finally felt brave enough to ask the question you’ve really been wanting to ask. 

“Well, I have to head up and start getting ready for tonight. What about you, getting ready for your date?” Of course, you weren’t sure he actually had one, but that was as direct as you could bring yourself to be. 

“Suppose I should be doing the same. Save Gambit a dance?” He kissed your hand and walked away, leaving you flustered and confused. You immediately pulled out your phone.

Y/N: okay so i said ‘gotta go get ready! what about you, getting ready for your date?’ and he said ‘suppose i should do the same’ what do we do with that??

JB: does he think you have a date?? 

Y/N: SHOULD i have a date??? 

JB: yeah, one of you should have asked the other out by now 

You dropped your phone on your bed, having finally made it to your room after a flurry of texts. Complicated feelings for your maybe best friend aside, it was still important to you to be slightly better than presentable tonight. 

Tonight was the first time all summer the adults of the mansion could relax and have a good time, and some non-residential mutants would also be joining the mix. You had never really been to anything so strictly social with the gang, and you didn’t take your invitation lightly. 

It wasn’t exactly formal, but Jubilee was able to confirm your suspicion that it wasn’t exactly casual either. You showered, taking more time than usual to exfoliate and moisturize, trying to pamper yourself into relaxing and getting excited for the night ahead, trying to ignore Remy’s words from earlier bouncing around your head. 

Two simple words that have had you in a tailspin since he said them so casually. ‘I’d know.’

The trouble maker in you wanted to test him on it, and you did a quick assessment of yourself to see if you could. Fresh out of the shower but mostly dressed, you were presentable. Should you take a quick trip overseas, hop over to France for some wine for tonight and back in a blink? You closed your eyes and heard a knock on your door just as you were about to take off. 

You opened your door more suspicious than you’d care to admit, suddenly paranoid that Gambit sniffed you out, but you were met with Jubilee instead, weighed down with garment and shopping bags from the mall. 

“You never answered me! I have your pretzel and you promised we’d do makeup together so-“ it was all the preamble she gave before forcing the pretzel on you and making herself at home in your room. 

“I was showering! And I really thought you were going to be gone longer?” 

“I just had to pick up some stuff I ordered for tonight, plus giving you and Gambit some time to flirt didn’t seem like a bad thing.” 

You rolled your eyes, “We have banter, definitely, but I’m not sure I’d call it flirting. He flirts with everyone.” 

“So you realize that what he does with you is different?” She turns it on you but you’ve heard it before. 

“Yes, different as in he’s not interested!” 

Jubilee made a sound of frustration before giving up and asking for help with contour. You dropped the subject and fell back into your usual routine, an easy friendship that reminded you more of sisters than friends. You showed up at the mansion looking for a place to stay while you visited old haunts, and you made a friend in Jubilee who was willing to venture into those places with you, even if it meant confronting ghosts.

“Lucky for you I think I found the perfect way to test his level of interest. You didn’t pick out what you’re wearing yet, did you?” 

“Well yeah, I was just going to wear-” You started motioning to the dress you picked for tonight, but Jubilee was moving and cutting you off before you even finished.

“Okay so scrap that, I grabbed something for you at the mall,” she reached for one of the garment bags she had laid across your bed, “and if this doesn’t get a reaction out of him, I’m at a loss. What do you think?”

She unzipped the bag and your eyebrows flew up so fast you wondered if they were still there. It was hot pink, sequined, and most noticeably, short and backless. You reached out to touch it and couldn’t deny how beautiful it was. Sure, the pink was a lot and it showed more skin than you were strictly comfortable with, but you couldn’t deny that the striped details of the sequins were gorgeous, or that the dress would hug and accentuate your curves…dangerously. 

“Now tell me what’s really going on because there’s no way you were able to afford this dress.” 

Jubilee snorted, “You got me, it comes with a letter.” She handed you a small envelope you promptly opened and started reading. 

‘Your young friend told me you planned to attend a party wearing some frumpy thing off a rack and that’s simply unacceptable for my niece, I have a reputation to uphold, Y/N ;) Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Sincerely, your Fairy DevilFather (p.s. TRY to have fun?)’

“Lucifer intervened to send me a dress?? How did you two even contact each other?” 

“I answered your phone once when he called while you were showering. We really hit it off, he actually sent me one too!” She excitedly pulled out another bag and showed you an equally gorgeous, albeit much more modest dress. Part of you wanted to argue, but another part of you realized how exciting this was for your friend and you weren’t about to let her down when she was waiting for you to join her excitement. 

“I think we might be best dressed tonight?” You smirked and she whooped, celebrating her victory. 

“Oh I’m ready, maybe everyone will finally accept the fact that I’m 20 and stop treating me like I’m still 15.” 

You knew it was a sore point for her, but you still smiled. The way all of the x-men treated Jubilee as their adopted child was something that endlessly warmed your heart, even if it frustrated your friend. The two of you took your time helping each other get your hair and makeup perfect before donning your dresses and leaving your bedroom, having already started to hear the arrival of a few guests and the slight murmur of conversation. 

You stopped just short of the stairs, turning to face Jubilee, “Don’t they say ‘fashionably late’ is a good thing?” Your anxiety was starting to get the best of you, wearing such a risque dress to attend a party with lots of new faces. 

“I think we’ve already reached fashionably late, babe, if we wait any longer they’ll think something is wrong.” You took a deep breath and started to make your way down the stairs. The mansion was empty, signalling that everyone else had already made their way out to the garden. 

The sun was just beginning to set when the two of you arrived to find the party already in full swing. Jean and Scott were dancing, Logan and Hank sharing a drink by the bar, and around 20 faces you had never seen interspersed with the rest of the team. You heard a low wolf whistle behind you and felt a hand on your lower back. 

“Breaking hearts tonight, chere?” Remy was on you before you could even turn to look at the sound. 

“If I’m lucky.” You shrugged. 

“Think I have enough of that for the both of us.” He winked and you tried and failed to suppress a snort that only made him grin wider. 

You turned to say something to Jubilee and your eyes narrowed when you realized the little traitor had run over to greet her friends, leaving you and Gambit alone. She looked your way and winked as you openly glared at her. 

“Well it looks like I’ve been ditched so I’ll need to borrow some of it.” You grimaced in the direction of the crowd, not needing to elaborate.  

“All yours, chere.” He offered you his arm and you accepted, making your way into the party and jumping right into a flurry of introductions, hugs and handshakes that Remy led you through, guiding you away when it was time to move on. 

It seemed innocent enough but you couldn’t stop focusing on the fact that Remy’s hands never left you. Whether it was an arm wrapped protectively around your waist or his hand on your exposed lower back, lazily tracing shapes you couldn’t make out, it was becoming increasingly distracting. He introduced you to Kurt and you only caught 30% of the conversation, too distracted by Remy’s hand tracing the curve of the dip at the back of your dress. You were relieved when Remy excused the two of you to go grab a drink.

“Admit it, not as bad as you thought.” Gambit smirked at you, leading you to a table where Logan and Jubilee were catching up. 

You rolled your eyes, “I never thought it would be bad, I just,” You took a deep breath, “I don’t know, I guess I was worried I wouldn’t fit in here, or that everyone would be wondering why I’m even here but too polite to say anything.” 

Logan and Jubilee both looked in your direction, hearing the tail end of your conversation that you didn’t bother hiding from them. Logan very openly looked you up and down before chuckling and taking a sip of what you suspected to be whiskey. 

“No one’s kicking you out of here looking like that, that’s for sure.” It was maybe the first time the wolverine had ever given you a compliment and you blushed. 

“You clean up rather nicely yourself, Logan.” 

“Then why are you spending all night with the cajun instead of talking to me?” You were surprised but did your best to cover it up, meanwhile Jubilee was fighting off a laugh herself by taking a sip of her drink.

“Because the cajun knows how a lady should be treated.” Gambit grumbled, leveling Logan with a look before departing briefly to get the both of you drinks.  

“Does he?” Logan asked you while you sat to join them, shooting him a quizzical look before he continued, “Know how to treat a lady?” 

“How much have you had, Logan?” You asked, eyeing his drink. 

“Not that much, darlin’. Answer the question.” If there was one thing you loved about Logan it was his lack of bullshit, and judging by the look on Jubilee’s face as she waited for your answer, right now it was probably her favorite thing about him too, 

“He’s been a perfect gentleman, but we’re just friends.” You tried to say it in a way that wouldn’t reveal how much that bothered you, but both of them knew better. Gambit returned a second later with your drinks and you only got two sips in before Logan insisted on a round of shots. 

One round turned into two, turned into three, turned into…you lost count. Jubilee was swaying happily in her seat, having convinced the two men to let her join in with half shots somewhere around round three. Everyone’s judgement was impaired by that point, but she made a great argument about drinking for the first at home where she’s safe or something else you couldn’t remember anymore in your happily inebriated state.

A song came on and you gasped, turning towards the dancefloor and excitedly announcing your love for the song. What it was called? You couldn’t remember if your life depended on it, but you needed to dance. You locked eyes with Remy who smiled but shifted his eyes away awkwardly, causing you to quickly deflate. 

“Have you even had a dance yet tonight, Y/N?” Logan asked you suspiciously. 

“Not yet.” You pouted, considering heading out on your own, dance partner be damned. 

“Knows how to treat a lady my ass.” Logan grumbled in Gambit’s direction, shooting a glare at him before getting up and begrudgingly but kindly offering you his hand. 

“Oh. my. GOD.” Jubilee squealed, far too gone to contain her excitement at the drama, as she would say.  

You beamed at Logan, accepting his hand and making a run for the dance floor, pulling him along behind you. 

“That crazy cajun might try to take my head off later for this.” Logan grumbled, settling his arms at your waist while you threw yours around his neck, getting closer than was strictly necessary so the two of you could continue your talk while dancing. Your eyes shifted over to where you just left your friends and you felt a stabbing pain in your chest when you looked for Remy just to see he had also made his way over to the dance floor, with Rogue. 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Logan.” Your eyes were starting to tear up and you looked up trying to stop it as Logan became worried, turning to figure out what made you so upset. His eyes landed on Gambit and he growled, holding you a little closer as he actively tried to calm down. 

“I’ll kill him.” 

“You won’t.” You laughed, “He’s allowed to be with whoever he wants.”

“Yeah, but he’s not allowed to follow you around all night like a lovesick puppy just to ditch you when he catches another scent.” 

You smiled sadly, “He was being a good friend earlier, that’s it.” 

Logan pulled you closer and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I watched his hands stray all over you, Y/N,” He touched your bare back to emphasize his point, “He’s not a friend, he’s a coward.” You couldn’t take it anymore and hugged Logan, hiding your face in his chest to let a few tears escape, hoping you would feel a bit better if you could get some of your distress out. 

“Might have to kill em for making you cry.” Logan grumbled and you laughed, smiling up at him despite yourself. 

“Believe it or not you’re helping enough like this.” The two of you continued dancing and Logan’s discomfort wasn’t wasted on you, but he’d be damned if he let the two of you leave that dance floor before Gambit and Rogue. He was making a point. 

The music began to slow down and Rogue and Gambit finally went their separate ways. You watched as Remy found Jubilee again and made their way back over to the table, you turned to Logan.

“Think we should head back?” He looked behind you and shook his head.

“We finally get a song that’s more my speed and you want to leave?” He shook his head no and pulled you closer, making you laugh and rest your head on his chest as the two of you swayed lazily. 

“Thank you, Logan. It’s not how I expected the night to go but I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you.” 

“Dancing with you looking like that isn’t exactly a punishment.” He snarked and you chuckled.

“Mind if I cut in?” You looked up to meet red eyes, Remy looking between you and Logan harshly before addressing you again more quietly, “Didn’t Gambit ask you to save him a dance?” 

You hesitated and Logan took that as his cue, “Bad timing cajun, Y/N just said she was getting dizzy, we’re heading back to the table.” Logan put his arm around you and lead you out of there, leaving Gambit to grumble and trail the two of you back. 

Jean had joined Jubilee to rest and eyed the three of you quizzically as you made your return.

“Y/N!! I found out that shots of vodka with cranberry juice is amazing, look!” She held out a shot for you and you grabbed it and threw it back before Logan and Remy could even finish their protests.

“Chere! Didn’t you say you were dizzy?” Gambit took the shot glass out of your hand, leading you to a chair. 

“From the dancing, Rem! I definitely haven’t had enough to drink yet.” 

Jubilee whooped and passed you another shot, clinking it to her own before you both threw them back. Jean looked at you even more confused and you tapped your temple with a wink, an agreed upon gesture inviting her to read your mind. 

“Rough night but I promise everything is okay, just need to drown my sorrows a little with you guys. Logan’s been doing his best.” 

You heard Jean’s response in your head, “Fair enough. I’ve been cutting Jubilee’s shots with a lot of cranberry juice. Seriously, a LOT.” 

You struggled to mask your laugh, “As I was saying, definitely not enough to drink, I’m gonna go-“ You stood and made your way to the bar on your own before anyone else could say anything, but you could feel a few sets of eyes watching you leave. 

Someone had been manning the bar, but as the night wore on and the guests dwindled, those of you remaining were left to fend for yourself. You assessed your options and reached for the gin, giving that a generous pour before adding sprite, a splash of cranberry juice, and a lime wedge before you can talk yourself out of it. 

“That looks amazing, can you make me one too?” Jubilee had appeared at your side and you smiled before making her a much more restrained version of yours. “Now I need you to tell me eeeeevery detail of you and Wolvie dancing I mean I neeeever-“ 

“To be clear,” you interrupted, sipping at your drink, “It was a pity save when it became painfully obvious Remy wasn’t going to ask.” 

“After spending literally all night following you around and basically growling at anyone that tried to get near you, what’s up with that??” She made a good point but you weren’t sure what she meant by that first part. 

“Pause, rewind, what are you talking about ‘basically growling’?” 

“You seriously didn’t realize how handsy he got with you when Kurt started getting friendly?” 

You realized you were drunk when you couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, “I was so distracted by him being handsy I didn’t even hear whatever Kurt was saying to make the connection.” 

Jubilee nearly spat her drink in your face and she started smacking you excitedly, “Can you please please go tell him that??” 

“But then he didn’t ask me to dance!! He pointedly looked away!!” 

“So Logan? What happened there?” You were starting to suspect your friend wasn’t nearly as inebriated as you thought, her tone sounding surprisingly sharp shifting gears. 

“I really don’t think there’s anything more than his mother-hen instincts going on there.” 

Her eyes rolled and she shrugged, “I’d agree if it was just one dance, but-“ 

“Again, pretty sure that was to save me from being zeroed in on Gambit’s dance with Rogue..” 

She didn’t have a response for that one and she simply clinked your drink before you both took generous sips, “Don’t tell Jean.” You whispered as you topped both of your glasses off before heading back to the group.

Jean had left to track down Scott who was mingling in the small groups that remained, some still dancing but most everyone else was doing the same as your small group. Jubilee bounced into the seat next to Logan and you drifted a beat too long before sitting next to Gambit. The silence that stretched between the two of you was no longer as comfortable as it was earlier, so you broke and piped up first. 

“I almost tested you earlier, you know.” 

“Almost?” Remy squinted at you, “Been testing me all night, chere.” 

You narrowed your eyes back but decided not to engage, continuing your thought instead, “When you said you’d know if I left?” His playful glare dropped and he waited on your next words, “Just a quick trip before the party but still, decided against it.” 

Remy chewed on what you were saying and not saying, wondering how the night had gotten so far away from him. Everything started out better than he expected, getting to show you around the party, not letting you too far out of sight in that dress, and then the hesitation. His own doubt sneaking in, reminding him that Y/N is quite literally an angel, he knew her place in the world, but his? He looked over at you waiting for a response and decided that didn’t matter right now.

“Still have sea legs or are you about ready for that dance, chere?” He didn’t leave you much room to answer, already standing with his arm extended. 

“You know I literally just sat back down, right?” He rolled his eyes at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet alongside him. Your night was clearly nowhere near over and you gave in, letting Remy lead you back onto the dance floor and into his arms. 

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Dolce

Chapter Twenty One

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Word Count: 1787

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, minor backstory, they're idiots your honor, unbeta'd

A/N: Thank you all for your patience. Apart from being sick, I second and third and quintuple guessed myself on this chapter and then thoroughly ignored the difficult parts and just let them have a conversation on their own. That's it, it's just a phone call. xoxo Stu

Forgive me @lastactiontricia <3

Series Masterlist

You stood in your kitchen staring at the food in the fridge. It wasn’t much, but you had options.You just hated them all at that moment. You closed the door and slogged over to the pantry. It was the Friday night after Dean’s birthday and you wanted nothing to do with your phone or work or anything social media related. 

So you had turned off your ringer and left it to charge. 

You grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn out of the box and ripped off the plastic wrap. It was a poor excuse for dinner, but it at least would tide you over while you decided what you actually wanted to eat. Then you poured yourself a glass of wine, a sweet white because you were not a snob about it. No matter how many trips to Napa people took you on, you really weren’t going to spend an arm and a leg on a bottle that you only half-heartedly appreciated.

Once it was ready, you took the puffed up bag of popcorn with you to the living room because what was the point of making another dish? And decidedly resorted to turning on the tv.

The thing about streaming shows is that even though your attention wavered, the consistency of the characters on the screen made you feel less alone. You got through six episodes before you realized you never made anything for dinner. And at that point, it was too late to start. You stomped around trying to remember where you left your phone only to find a missed call from Dean and a dozen random texts from other people.

You double checked you didn’t have any voicemails and scrolled down to order delivery. Once dinner was finally sorted, you poured yourself the last of the bottle of wine and called Dean back.

The phone rang in your ear as you sat in the corner of your couch, criss-cross applesauce while turning on the next episode on mute. He answered on the fourth ring.

“Trouble, hey!”

“You rang?” You took a sip. Wherever he was was loud, but you could hear him moving through the buzz of passing conversation and cutlery.

“Yeah, you got a minute?”

“The night is my oyster, what’s up?” You leaned forward and set your glass on the coffee table, stretching back and settling in for whatever fire you were going to have to put out next.

The sounds surrounding Dean ended abruptly and he exhaled. “Not much, just grabbing drinks with some people from the label with Bela. You know, schmoozing the uppity ups.”

“Oh— good luck with that.” You shifted onto one hip and hugged your knee. “Tell her she has to pick where we’re getting brunch because the place I wanted is closed for remodeling—- and that she’s paying.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “I’ll fucking cover it, okay? Anything else you need me to tell her? Cuz I could go back in there and just hand her the phone if you want—”

“Nope— no, sorry. It’s fine. You okay?” Something in his voice was setting off a proximity alarm in your head, not full blown panic mode, but enough to let you know something had appeared on the horizon. 

“Yeah, ‘m good. It’s just not my kind of thing—- Bela’s great at these things— I just stand there wishing I could be anywhere else.”

“I’m surprised you even showed up— especially with rehearsals starting Monday.” You grabbed your wine again, waiting Dean out.

“Gotta play nice— you said so,” Dean teased, you could hear the soft hum of his smugness before he shifted gears. “Listen— that whole thing with Cas and the birthday bus— and the whole day actually—”

“Are you really gonna start bitching about that now? Dean, it is so not the time— don’t you have someone’s ass to kiss?”

“What?! I’m not— would you let me finish?! Jesus. I was trying to thank you!--- Don’t know why, now, but yeah.”

You bit your lips and perked up, straightening your back and wagging your head a little back and forth. “Oh? By all means— continue.”

“Yeah, okay, smart ass.”

You cackled and let him stew a bit.

“It was seriously the best, okay? Like, top five of all time.” Dean switched ears and you tried not to squee with the idea of making him so happy he’d been thinking about it for days. That he had to call you to tell you— even as an excuse to escape a less than stellar social situation. Everything seemed to sparkle on your skin, but that could have been the Reisling. “And about dragging Cas out— that was an unexpected gift. So, yeah, thank you— for all your trouble.”

You groaned.

“Oh come on! That one wasn’t that bad.” Dean pretended to be affronted and you pretended to be annoyed.

“Sure.”

He sniggered. “It was good to see him. It’d been too damn long.”

“Seriously. We had lunch and just getting to hang out with him made everything better.”

“Yeah.” Dean was thinking and you let him.

The television was frozen on the prompt screen, judging you for still watching, but you ignored it. You finished your wine and looked at the last drops through the curved glass, distracted by the reflection of your empty living room.

“You think he’s doing alright? I mean— he’s got a freakin’ kid. That’s got to have been a total mindfuck— you know?”

Naturally, Dean was worried about how Cas was, not about harboring grudges or blaming him for the rift between them. At least not out loud.

“I cannot imagine— and luckily we don’t have to worry about anyone trying to pull that again.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Fuckin’ Lisa, I almost forgot about that. That was like the first big thing you had to bury when you started.”

You sat up and climbed onto your knees, like getting taller would help make your point. “Oh, I know! God that was such an uphill battle, even when she pretended to play nice. I still get the heebie jeebies when I pass her yoga studio on the way to Charlie’s.”

Dean chuckled. “Man— the things we do for fame. We are paying you, right?”

“Last time I checked.”

“Okay, good, probably should be more though, especially with all the Bela stuff.”

“Dean— I make well over the industry standard percentage with you guys. Plus, you barely even charge me rent. I’m doing fine.”

“Whatever—- still, want you to know your hard work is appreciated.”

You settled back down and picked at the seam of your leggings. “That is the weirdest way you could have said thank you, I hope you know.”

“Fuck off— Thank you, okay? THANK YOU. Should I spell it out? Maybe say it in Spanish?”

“Claro.”

“Como se dice ‘bite me’, huh?”

“Muérdeme.”

“Uhhh—- yeah, not gonna try that one while I’m standing in an alley alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “You should probably go back inside. People are waiting on you.”

“They barely even looked up when I stepped away— Bela’d message me if it was a problem.”

“Deeeeeean.”

“Trouuubbbllllle,” the way his voice rumbled with your nickname made it hard to remember you were even wearing clothes.

You climbed off the couch and decided to put your glass in the dishwasher for something to do. He wasn’t going back into the restaurant, but he wasn’t exactly keeping you from anything either.

“Why’d you call if you were out anyway?”

“Heh— I called you to talk me into going through with it.”

Oops. “Well good job on getting there on your own.”

“I was already halfway to Bela’s anyway. Paps perked up real fast when we rolled up. Gonna have to switch out Baby for a rental one of these days. Don't like the way they hone in on her.”

You rolled your eyes. “Probably a good idea, especially if you need privacy.”

“Not really the point of this little arrangement is it?”

“Okay, but still, be safe.”

“With my car? Always.”

You smiled to yourself when there was a knock at your door.

“Somebody there?” You hadn’t realized he could hear it over the line.

“Just dinner.” You beelined through the living room, suddenly starving. You pinched your phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you unlocked the front door. 

“So, what? Just another night in for you? Lemme guess, messy bun and no bra, maybe some leggings?”

You made sure everything was in the bag where the driver left it and dragged it back to the kitchen for a plate. “Is this you asking me what I’m wearing?”

“Maybe.”

You stopped short, and had to lift the bag up onto the counter a second time to keep it from becoming one with the floor. “Ha, ha.”

“Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna do anything here. Just making conversation.”

You ground your teeth, anger spiking from this sudden turn into teasing. “Yeah, well, when it’s the closest thing to a come on I’ve had in months— it feels a little bit more than that.”

You feel the penny drop.

“Dry spell, huh? I was wondering about that.”

“Oh shut it. You’ve got a fairytale fake girlfriend and I’ve got a band to keep relevant, neither of us is really out there mingling.”

Dean cleared his throat. “You can take time off—- if you need, you know that right? Hell, find somebody’s discarded boyfriend backstage and burn off some steam or something. ‘S one of the perks of a tour.---- But take care of yourself first, alright?”

You look up at the ceiling at the rows of spotlights Dean installed, once upon a time, that framed the island and sighed. “I’m not discussing my sex life with you— like— ever again.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll have a sleepover and braid Sam’s hair.”

You sputtered and then went back to dishing up your food.

“Muérdeme, Dean. Then we’d have to listen to all the kinky shit him and Madison are into, no thank you.”

“Touche.”

You heard Dean’s phone buzz with a notification. The metaphorical clock struck twelve.

“That’s Bela, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Okay, well, it’s been fun.”

You inhaled and sent him off, “go get ‘em, champ.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks again for the birthday shenanigans. I’ll see you next week?”

“I’ll be at rehearsal, but I’ve got calls and stuff scheduled throughout the day.”

“Sounds good. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

Something lingered between you in the silence and before you could say something you’d regret, you finally ended the call. It almost felt like he was waiting you out, making sure not to be the one that hung up first.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

[blazingstar400]

Incorrect Scarlet and Violet Quotes Part 4

Even after all the quotes I wrote I still have so much more.

Kieran: When I woke up this morning, I meditated, did 50 pushups, drank green tea, and went for a 30 minute walk.

Juliana:

Juliana: When I woke up this morning, I spent a whole hour just waking up—

Drayton: Hey, what's up?

Kieran: I've been having heart pains lately.

Drayton: Seriously! When did this start?

Kieran: The pain started since Juli—

Drayton: No, not the pain, the part about you having a heart. Forgot you had one.

Kieran, who is so done with everything: Is it rude to kill yourself in the middle of class?

Nemona: You need to raise your hand and ask first.

Florian: You might need a hall pass for that.

Penny: You should've killed yourself in between classes. If I let you kill yourself now, everyone will want to kill themselves.

Juliana: How about we just don’t kill ourselves at all???

Carmine: Drayton sneezed earlier and I accidentally said ‘shut up’ instead of ‘bless you’.

Juliana: How do you accidentally say ‘shut up’ instead of ‘bless you’?

Florian: I can't believe Unovans don't call car parks, car parks.

Juliana: Is that where you bring your car on weekends so it can play with other cars or something?

Kieran: No, you idiot! It's where you park your freaking car!

Arven: Almost like an area of land, a lot if you will, for parking cars. A parking lot.

Penny: ...I keep imagining little Hondas on swing sets.

Florian: ....It makes me sad to think when I die, there's going to be thousands of books with stories I'm not able to read because I died…

Nemona: WHAT ABOUT TV SHOWS—

Penny: AND ALL THE FANDOMS YOU CAN'T BECOME A PART OF—

Kieran: And the people you won't get to see die.

Kieran: You're the strongest person I know.

Juliana: ....I believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

Kieran: Don't get me wrong, you're still really annoying.

Kieran, writing: Dear Diary, how are you? I'm doing fine.

Kieran:

Kieran: Okay, you got me. I'm not fine. Geez, you're good…

Juliana: Are you still mad at me?

Kieran: Twinkle Twinkle little star.

Juliana, confused but sings along: How I wonder what you are?

Kieran: Wish I could hit you with a car.

Juliana: Okay, you're still mad.

Arven, holding a video camera: Penny, I want you to play the role of my mother.

Penny: I don’t want to be your mother.

Arven: Perfect you already know your lines.

Carmine: How long did you sleep?

Kieran: Eight.

Carmine: Hours?

Kieran: Minutes.

Nemona: I’ve been expecting you, Juliana.

Juliana: How did you do that without turning around?

Nemona: Let’s just say the first few people I did that to were not you.

Juliana: Can I go ride my bike outside?

Rika: Do what you want. I’m not your mom.

Rika: *rushes after her a few moments later*

Rika: NOT IN THE FREEWAY—!

[vintagetvstars]

Bea Arthur Vs. Joan Collins

Propaganda

Bea Arthur - (Golden Girls, Maude) - Okay okay where do I even start!! Bea Arthur is incredibly attractive. She has a SUPER deep voice (stunning), a sort of regal, statuesque way of moving and talking, and she can kill you with a single piercing look. Like seriously. Her Looks have become a thing in both shows she plays a lead character in. Did I mention: TWO characters were *written for her*!! When she did Maude in 1972, she'd appeared on All in the Family as a side character and the people there loved her so much they went "this woman needs her own TV show". SO THEY WROTE IT. And made 6 seasons of it. That's how good she is. When the pilot for The Golden Girls was written, creator Susan Harris described the part that Bea would end up playing as a "Bea Arthur type" before they'd even cast her in the role. She was Jewish, she served as a typist and truck driver in the marines during WWII, she had a whole career off and on Broadway behind her by the time she started her career in television, and she was an ally to the gay community — there's even a shelter for homeless queer youth named after her. And did I mention her voice?? Because she can sing too!

Joan Collins - (Dynasty) - No text propaganda

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Bea Arthur:

She was just so funny and compelling onscreen. She had great timing. And she was beautiful no matter what age and she was an incredibly LGBT+ ally.

I think it's a very common experience to start watching The Golden Girls and immediately develop a crush on Dorothy Zbornak - and it's not a coincidence. Between her statuesque figure, her regal poise, her sharp wit and her wonderful, deep voice, Bea Arthur brings so much to the table that it's impossible not to be head-over-heels in love with her from the very first moment she appears on screen. Career-wise, she's a legend of the small screen; she received the third most Emmy nominations for Lead Actress in a Comedy Series (an incredible 9!). Her guest appearance as Maude in All in the Family impressed both the public and the executives so much that they made a spin-off series *especially for her*. She led Maude - the sitcom - for six incredible seasons to critical and public acclaim, and this would already be enough to nominate her among the greats, but then - as the true queen she was - she went on to star into *another* legendary show, The Golden Girls, as *another* legendary character, Dorothy, and won another Emmy (as well as several nominations) for it, just because she could. As for her private life, she was known as a private, introverted person, who loved the simple things in life; all her fellow TV stars (including Angela Lansbury, who was a dear friend of hers) recall her as a kind, decent person and a wonderful professional, with impeccable work ethic and truly immaculate comedic timing. We do not support the military complex here, but we do support girlbosses winning, so let me just mention that she was one of the first women (ever!) to join the US marines; she was also a licensed medical technician. All in all - a legendary lady who definitely deserves your vote!

how many people can dress up as the Statue of Liberty and look this good?

have you ever seen a woman so beautiful you started crying

MOTHER

soft butch queen. Who else could rock a papillon like that?!?

1982 Bea Arthur - Fifty Percent.avi

Beatrice Arthur, Down in the Depths, 1980 TV

Joan Collins:

[buddiebeginz]

I'm not sure what Buddie stuff we might get in this next ep but one thing I wanted to talk about is if something like a kiss were to happen it's important that we don't attack the show for it. I understand not wanting a cheating storyline (even though for clarification Buck isn't in an exclusive relationship with T*mmy as of yet). And definitly as a someone who is bi myself I completely get not wanting to see bisexual stereotypes perpetuated.

Still when it comes to tv they often will do love triangle/cheating storylines for drama. There's also the fact that tv shows often handle cheating differently than the real world. On a tv show a kiss might be handled differently than say if someone had sex with someone who wasn't their partner. I'm not saying they both aren't messed up but look at how the show handled Buck kissing Lucy vs Hen sleeping with Eva. Buck and Taylor didn't break up after she found out about Lucy but Karen and Hen did separate for a bit after what Hen did.

I'm not saying I think cheating is okay. I don't want Buddie to start out this way I just know it's a super common trope. But regardless I think as a fandom we really need to be a positive presence on all of the social media platforms rooting for Buddie to happen.

The B/T fans are out in large numbers right now being very vocal for the ship they want to stick around, some even want this to be Buck's endgame ship. They definitely aren't going to be happy if Buck and Eddie kiss because they know it threatens their ship. So I'm sure many of them will speak out about it.

We can't be adding to the backlash of a (possible) Buddie kiss by leaving negative comments and making post after post, some of which people involved with the show will inevitably see (remember Oliver has stated multiple times they see things we post online).

I get that there's these messed up stereotypes that bisexual people can't make up our minds that all we're ever gonna do is cheat on the people we care about. I get that if a cheating storyline comes about it will be upsetting for a lot of you. Again I don't want this to be how Buddie starts but at the same time if we are out there attacking the show for the first Buddie kiss it will look VERY bad for us and our ship and will only keep us further from canon Buddie. If Buddie do kiss we need to be encouraging the show to continue their storyline. Because you best believe that any and all interaction between T*mmy and Buck is going to garner positive engagement from those fans and it is only going to give Tim and the writers more incentive to keep him around.

This post might just be me rambling for nothing because nothing of consequence may even happen between Buddie in the next ep but I wanted to get this out just in case. I do believe Tim has a plan for Buddie regardless of what is being said in his interviews but that doesn't meant fan engagement can't alter things. The out pourting of love and support we've given the show for years for Buddie is part of why bi Buck has even happened. We want the show to know that if they're moving in a romantic direction with Buddie we support it. You also have to realize there's a lot of people right now complaining about Buck even being bi at all. For all the positive feedback they're getting for bi Buck ABC and Oliver etc are also dealing with a good amount of backlash to this story too. I just think we don't need to add to that.

[defectivegembrain]

I mean Crazy Ex Girlfriend literally went here's a character who is absolutely not going to be palatable to anyone, you know her or at least the popular image of her, you've been trained by culture and media to hate her and the parts of you that are like her, and like, you don't have to like her, hell at times you will probably hate her with good reason, but you are going to understand why she does the things she does and you're going to care deeply about what happens to her even as you're exasperated and yelling at the screen and maybe this will trick you into understanding and caring about those similar parts of yourself more

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Au: Danny's in Gotham Again

when the wool is off your eyes you'll stop counting sheep at night cause you'll eat your fill of them during the daytime

A few weeks after Danny’s visit to Gotham, he buys an apartment in the city. It’s this little thing, a studio apartment on the same street he grew up in. In Crime Alley. When he tells his parents, they protest heavily. They don’t think it's safe. They think he should reconsider. There were plenty of apartments and places to live somewhere else. And what about college? 

Danny doesn’t think he’ll go to college. He isn’t sure what he wants to do, now that being an astronaut is off the table. It’d be a waste of money to go without a goal in mind, he thinks. He says he’ll take a gap year and apply at one of the community colleges funded by the Wayne Corporation, possibly. It just wasn’t in the cards right now. 

“If things get tough,” He says at dinner that night, “then I can talk to the Waynes. I’m friends with the family, remember?” He ended up getting Bruce’s number in his phone again before he left, and in the process got Tim’s as well. They don’t talk much, Danny isn’t sure what to say. But he sends Tim memes whenever he comes across one and thinks he’ll like. Tim sends memes back in return.   

His parents do remember. They remember. They also remember the horrified shriek that echoed through the house when Danny learned of Jason’s passing. They remember running up the stairs and bursting into their son’s room and finding him sobbing into his bed, curled up like a little kid, like he was in pain. He lost his voice that day, stuck between screaming out his grief and sobbing it. 

They’re still not sure if they should let him go. 

In the end, Danny wins them out, and he lets them help him search for an apartment. They take a break from their lab work to help search for cheap furniture to buy. They may have more money than when they were in Gotham, but that frugal part of you never fully goes away. They all agree that they don’t want Danny to be seen carrying in nice-looking furniture when he moves in. 

He ends up with a basic furniture set, all mismatched, and in the warm summer of June, his parents rent out a u-haul and drive him down to Gotham to move in. They meet the landlord when they arrive, a skinny and frail old man with wispy white hair and a wrinkled face. He gives Danny the keys and tells him what apartment number he is, and then he leaves. 

His parents help him move in. They help him carry his heavy furniture up to the second floor, where his apartment is. Danny isn’t sure if he wants them to help. His mom and dad are strong, but they are getting old, closer to their fifties now that their children are grown. His dad’s hair is slowly beginning to thin, and rather than the white eating at the sides of his head, it now streaks through his hair like salt-and-pepper. His mom’s hair is graying out too, and there are more lines in their faces than he remembers there being. 

When he voices his concerns, his mom laughs spiritedly and says that they may be getting old, but they are still as spry as when they were in their twenties. Danny isn’t sure if he believes them or not. He can see his dad struggle a bit when they return to get his bed frame, and they have to take a break before they go back down for the rest of their things. 

Five years ago, his dad could do this without breaking a sweat. It forces a heavy thing in the back of Danny’s throat. (He is less afraid of his own death than he is of his loved ones, and while he has always felt rocky with his parents, he still loves them more than anything else.) 

Danny’s apartment is exactly as he would have expected it to be: shabby and worn through. The entire room smells like stale cigarette smoke and weed, nicotine stains the wall with poorly covered bullet holes, and stains in the carpet that are a color he can’t discern. The fridge has a broken light and when he tries to turn on the gas stove, it click-click-clicks before lighting, fire fwooshing out while the smell of gas fills the air. There’s rat droppings in the cupboards and the closet-like bathroom is just as bad. 

The ghostly part of him can sense the heavy stench of death in the room; people have died in this room. People have died in every room of this building, he thinks. They have died on the streets outside and in the alleys squeezed between them. He can feel it like a heavy fog in the air. 

It is painfully nostalgic, a bittersweet feeling in his chest that he grimaces to. 

When the last box is placed in his apartment, his parents offer to help unpack. They are hesitant to leave and Danny knows it, although he doesn’t know if it’s from empty nest syndrome or because it's Gotham. He thinks it might be both. He is their youngest child finally leaving home to a city known for its danger. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay behind, sweetie?” His mother asks, a frown she tries to hide settled in the creases of her face. She fiddles with her hands, a nervous habit Danny has since noticed when she feels truly unsure and doesn’t need to hide it. Hesitancy looms over her like a heavy cloud. 

His dad jumps in hastily, splaying his hands and smiling painfully wide to hide the glistening in his eyes. “You’re mother’s right! We can help you get everything set up, champ. I could probably do something with that stove of yours to make it faster!” He says, his voice still booming like it always does even if there’s a stumble in his words. 

It makes his heart squeeze, knowing just how much they care. It was hard last summer, telling him that he was the Phantom. Terrifying, actually. They couldn’t comprehend it. He hadn’t felt his heart beat that fast in years when he stood in front of them at the kitchen table and told them he was a halfa, begging them to believe that ghosts weren’t inherently evil. 

His parents were people of science, however, and after much, much shock, they slowly came to terms with it. How could they not? The evidence was right in front of them. Their son was dead-alive, alive-dead. Somewhere stuck in the between. The tears they shed that night could fill a river, moving from the kitchen to the living room as Danny explains how he died. 

(When Danny tells them that he died after a week Jason did, his mom and dad look horrified. His mom covers her mouth when he adds that it was his idea to go inside it, his dad looks ashy pale, gripping his pant legs so tight that his knuckles turn white. There is a conclusion coming to their minds that he can tell they don’t like.) 

(“You’ve always hated our inventions, Danny.” Mom says in a hushed voice, and Danny winces at the wording, sinking into the back of the cushions in shame. He never thought that his parents noticed. Mom quickly grabs his arm, “No, no, there’s nothing to be ashamed of Danny. We were… perhaps too careless with our inventions, too enthusiastic. You had every right to hate the things we made when they had a tendency to… to malfunction.”) 

(Malfunction is a delicate way of putting it, when Danny remembers every time they had to evacuate their old apartment complex because whatever half-baked creation his parents made inevitably blew up into ash and smoke. There were soot marks permanently stained into the ceiling.) 

(Her hand slides down and grabs his, and she cups it in both of her hands, squeezing tightly. He forces himself to look up, and there is a look like her heart breaking when he looks into his mother’s eyes. “You’ve always avoided the lab after we moved, Danny. And you had every right to, so why on Earth did you ever think about going into the portal?”)

(Danny struggles to come up with an adequate answer, a way to verbalize what came over him that day five years ago. The answer is there, hanging in the air like a knot in a noose. He opens his mouth, and then closes it.)

(Finally, with a tongue made of lead, he shrugs lamely and looks away. “I didn’t know there was an on button inside it.” He mumbles, and despite being the truth it feels like a lie. But that is the truth. He didn’t know there was an on button inside it. So he didn’t care what happened.)

(Something dulls in mom’s eyes, like she thought of something else that Danny hadn’t said. Her eyes shimmer, and she squeezes them shut, breathing in so deep that it shakes. And then she pulls him into a hug, a hand burying into his hair and pressing him close. “It must have hurt so much, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”)

(It is something that Danny doesn’t expect her to say, like missing the last step of the stairs. It startles him so much he laughs this short, bark of a thing. He feels his dad press against his back and wrap his big arms around them, his nose pushed into his hair.) 

(Because yeah. Yeah, it did hurt. It hurt more than anything else he’s ever felt before. It had torn him apart and sewn him back together again, only to rinse and repeat. The pain was nothing he ever spoke to Sam or Tucker about, and it was something they never brought up. No, that’s not true. If they ever brought it up, Tucker would call it a zap. As if Danny only experienced a mild static shock. Like it was painless. It’s a pretty lie that Danny lets him and Sam believe.)

(His eyes sting and water immediately wobbles into his vision, coming up with such a force that he doesn’t even need to blink before it spills over. “Yeah.” He forces out, voice unexpectedly rough and cracking. “Yeah, it- it hurt. A lot.”)

He tells them about fighting the Lunch Lady a month later. He tells them about finding Jason. It comes spilling out like a waterfall. “I found him, mom.” He says, holding onto her tight while she keeps him tucked under his chin like a little kid. The secret of Jason being Robin stays hidden under his tongue, it is not his secret to tell. Not his identity to expose. He grips her tighter. “I found him, mom. Right there in the Ghost Zone, and he was my Jason. He wasn’t an echo or a— an imprint of him.”

Mom is silent; quiet and attentive, and so is dad, who rubs his large hands up and down Danny’s spine in an attempt to soothe him. It only works a little. Danny breathes in like a gasp as the urge to cry overcomes him again. He always avoids talking about Jason, his grief is like a never-healing scab that can be picked off at any time. It is ingrained into his core. 

“And then I lost him.” He forces out, a sob layering under his words that he chokes on and swallows. The hand on his back stills, and he can feel mom and dad breathe in like a question. He turns his head and pushes it into mom’s shoulder. “He disappeared, mom. Just— just gone.”

“And he didn’t move on.” He says, voice snarling like teeth biting before his mom can ask, because he knows that’s what she was going to ask. It’s what Sam and Tucker asked when he came to them in tears hours after he found Jason gone. It’s what Jazz said when he finally told her about it. It’s what every one of his ghosts asked when he told them about it and begged for their help. 

Danny grits his teeth and tries not to dig his nails into mom’s clothes as a fresh wave of tears run down his face. “His haunt is still there. If Jason really moved on it would have disappeared with him. That’s how it works. But it’s still in the zone, so Jason’s out there I just don’t know where.” 

(Sam once asks him why Danny didn’t just move on from it a year after Jason’s disappearance. She asked him why he didn’t give it up. Danny nearly saw red, and nearly bit her head off for it. It was incomprehensible to him to just stop looking for Jason, to give up. Not when he was out in the zone somewhere. Because he had to be in the zone.)

(Danny once tried to take Jason through the portal with him, and much like what happened to Kitty, it didn’t work. Jason was too tied to the ghost zone to leave.) 

(Some bonds are just unbreakable, he thinks. Bonds forged through blood and time and trust, and when you’re on the streets of Gotham, you hoard what little trust you have in someone like a dragon with its gold. It is scarcely given and fiercely kept.) 

“I’ve been looking for him.” Danny whispers when talking becomes too hard for him, when it runs the risk of him crying. “When- when I’m not fighting ghosts or, or in school or with my friends, I’ve been looking for him.” He has explored the Ghost Zone in every reach he can. He has met so many people. He’s met the ghosts of aliens from planets in every corner of the galaxy. He has met gods or god-like beings and their disciples. 

He’s met famous scholars and writers (he’s gotten the autographs of all of Jason’s favorite writers). He has found entire cities that have so much life in it that it's been permanently etched into the ghost zone, like a mirror version of itself. 

He’s visited the ghostly vision of Gotham so many times, and he avoids the imprint of Wayne Manor like the plague. There are ghostly newspapers that he reads. There are the ghosts of Martha and Thomas Wayne in many of them. 

Jason’s haunt connects to Wayne Manor, but it is also the street they grew up in. It is a small brick building with a door that leads to Jason’s room. A ghost knows when someone enters their haunt, it alerts them like a doorbell in the back of their mind. A foreign ecto-signature in a place drenched in your own. 

Danny visits it every time he goes into the Ghost Zone. It’s always his first stop. 

He tells his parents all of it. He tells them of the ghosts he’s met, of the places he’s seen. And when he feels brave, he tells them about Rath and the terror that his future self brings him. He keeps some details hidden, the ones that he can afford to keep without muddling up the story. 

(Rath is a tall, spindly thing, like a funhouse mirror version of Danny himself. He has arms that are much too long and legs that are much too tall, with skinny fingers that extend into claws.He wears his suit the same as Danny does, with it partially undone and the sleeves wrapped around his waist.)

(There is a black hole in his chest that is much bigger than Danny’s own. It takes up his chest cavity and drips the same, viscous black liquid as the tears falling from his eyes. Danny never forgets his voice; a scraping, quiet thing like he’s screamed himself hoarse. Rath has a voice like goosebumps, and it haunts Danny like a bump in the night.) 

Danny speaks and speaks and speaks until he can’t think of anything else to speak of. He is tired and sad, and it feels like his heart has been ripped out and rubbed raw again. And yet, he also feels so much better. Like a long heavy weight has been taken off his chest. 

Yeah, last summer was hard. His parents walked on eggshells around him, and they forced themselves to unlearn their bias of ghosts. It was more than Danny could have ever dreamed of, and when they felt ready for it, they asked him more about the ghost zone.

He smiles sadly at his dad, “I think fixing the stove can be a priority another time, dad.” He says, watching him wilt and his smile fall. Jack Fenton was always so good at making himself look like a kicked puppy. “I can handle unpacking by myself, I promise.” 

His parents still look so unsure, like they want to argue. Danny watches his mom purse her lips tightly, confliction running across her face like a datastream. She takes dad’s hand, squeezing their fingers together despite the droop in her shoulders. 

“Oh, alright then, I suppose.” She relents, her hand placing on Jack’s arm. “I guess we could go, we’re just going to miss you so much, Danny.” 

Tears seem to have won over his dad, and Jack Fenton sniffs back before he can cry properly. “Our little boy, all grown up.” He says, voice wobbling. It makes Danny laugh, and it makes his heart pang. His smile grows impossibly wider and so much fonder. “You’ve become such a kind, wonderful young man, Danno. We’re so proud of you.” 

Danny laughs again, and it cracks. “You’re gonna make me cry, dad.” (He feels a welling of guilt in his gut that he ignores — he doesn’t feel like a kind man. He doesn’t feel like a good one either. Not with what he plans to do.) 

His father holds out his arms in hopefulness, “One last hug for your old man before we head out?” He asks, mustering up a smile on his face. 

Danny barrels into him, nearly knocking his dad over with an oomph. He’s as tall as him now, but he still feels little in his bear hugs. With arms wrapping around his middle, Danny hugs his father tight and breathes him in one last time. 

“Careful there, Danno.” He laughs, patting Danny’s back roughly. “You’ll break my ribs with that ghostly strength of yours!” But he holds on just as tight.

Out of spite, Danny bends back and lifts him off his feet, laughing when Jack tenses up and nearly scrambles out of surprise. His mom laughs with him, stepping back to give them room for the few seconds that dad is in the air. 

When it’s his mom’s turn, Danny has to hunch to hug her. Something bittersweet to him as she plants a kiss on his forehead and says that he’ll always be her baby. “Even if you do have that horrid smoking habit.” She adds on with a disapproving eyebrow raise. 

Danny turns red in embarrassment, and walks them back to the GAV. Gothamites of all kinds slow to stop and boggle at the monstrous, road-illegal thing that is parallel-parked next to the curbside. In the past, Danny would have died with mortification to be seen with it. Now it just makes him laugh. Before he goes back into the apartment building, he buys a newspaper from a nearby convenience store.  

The first thing he does when he gets back up to his room is one: make a mental note to buy a bicycle chain lock for the door. The locks jiggle and there are splinters along the side that show signs of it being broken into in the past. The second thing he does is pull his cigarettes out of his pocket and light one. 

Danny starts to unpack with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, placing the newspaper he bought onto the counter. He has a cheap loveseat that he pushes off to the side, and he moves the boxes into the kitchen. It’s a matter of organization that Danny has to think about before he does anything. 

It’s as he’s pushing the sofa up against the wall facing the windows that his phone rings a familiar tune: Sam. The phone is fished out before he can think about it and when he stares down at the screen, he realizes it's a facetime call. 

He presses answer and walks over to prop his phone up onto the counter. The smiling faces of Sam and Tucker greet him, rather than just Sam. Immediately, Danny grins. “Hey Danny.” Sam greets, smiling a dark-painted lazy thing. From the background it looks like they’re in Tucker’s room. Sam is in Tucker’s desk chair, and Tucker is behind her, leaning against it. “Have you moved in yet?” 

Danny pulls the cigarette from his mouth and huffs, a cloud of smoke following his breath. “Yeah! It’s a shithole.” He grins lopsidedly, and his feet carry him off to the side to allow Sam and Tucker view of his apartment. He lets thirty seconds pass, allowing the both of them to really see the rest of the room. And then he steps back into frame. 

Sam and Tucker both look like they’re trying not to look judgemental, like they’re trying to hide a grimace that Danny sees anyway with the small turns at the corner of their mouths. He grins wider, mirth filling his lungs. “I know, it looks awful doesn’t it?”

“It’s— it’s not so bad.” Sam says with a strain in her voice, a forced smile on her face that tries to be reassuring. Tucker nods along readily, and he looks just as unsure as Sam does. Danny stifles laughter behind his teeth. 

“No, no, it looks bad,” He takes a drag of his cigarette, shaking his head. “You can say it, I won’t get offended. It’s a fucking apartment in crime alley. Of course it looks bad.” 

Sam remains silent, a rearing of her stubbornness showing itself. Tucker takes a different approach, and heaves a dramatic sigh of relief, slumping like a weight. “Okay, you’re right. It looks bad.” He frowns, “Sorry, man.” 

While Danny snorts, Sam sighs. “Yeah, it looks bad. What even are those stains?” She asks, and both she and Tucker lean closer in tandem to the screen, eyes squinting at the floor behind him. Danny glances at the floor, and shrugs. 

“Blood, probably.” He says, and while years in Amity Park have accustomed him to a clean environment, the desensitization of Gotham still remains. Tucker and Sam both make faces and lean away, as if the stain itself was capable of passing through to them. “Yeah, there are bullet holes in the walls.” 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be there?” Tucker asks, a furrow appearing between his brows. He adjusts his glasses and leans against the chair. Sam is frowning heavily, and Danny can already see her thinking up of a new way to fix the problem. 

“Oh, I never said this place was safe.” Danny tells him cheerily, taking a last hit of his cigarette before placing the dead stick onto the counter. He itches for another one. Instead he walks over to the shelf his parents brought in and starts moving it. “It’s Crime Alley, Tuck. Safe isn’t even in its vocabulary.” 

Tucker and Sam look like they’ve both swallowed a lemon.

“But it’s where I want to be right now.” He says, grunting quietly when the shelf is against the wall he wants it to be, near the short hallway leading to the front door. He can push it in front of it if someone tries to break in. “And Crime Alley’s apartments are the only ones I can really afford right now without mooching off my parents, and I’d rather not depend on them.” 

He can hear the disapproving hesitance from where he stands. And he ignores it. 

Danny walks back into frame, lifting up a box onto the counter. He hums lightly, fingers run over the tape keeping it shut. “Why do you even want to be in Gotham, Danny?” Sam asks, and she sounds genuinely perplexed. Danny stills. “I thought this place only had bad memories for you.” 

His blood turns cold, and like a dime being flipped his slow heartbeat fills his ears. “It does.” He replies automatically, before he can think. Shit, shit. He knows that Sam or Tucker would ask that question, and yet he still feels unprepared for it. His heart pulses quickly against his ribcage, knocking, asking him what he’s going to tell them that isn’t the truth. 

Danny stammers, “I mean— I just— I guess I felt nostalgic.” He says, and it sounds like a weak defense. He looks away, finding himself instinctively scratching his jaw. A new tick of his when he’s nervous. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sam and Tucker both narrow their eyes at him. 

He cannot tell them the real reason why he’s moved back to Gotham. He can’t tell them of the little secret and vow he told himself five years ago, the one that’s been left to fester and burn like an open wound close to his core. The one that, if he thinks too much about it, sends a searing hot electricity through him, filling him from crown to toe top-full of direst wrath.  

(Danny was always the angrier one in the duo of Jason and Danny. He was always the one with glass in his mouth, cutting his teeth and tongue so that he could spit blood at the world around them. His knuckles had more blood and bruises on it than skin, once upon a time. All because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He has grown from it, that fury has turned to a small simmering candle.) (But sometimes, sometimes it rears its head, and electricity will buzz under Danny’s skin. There is lightning before the thunder, the second before a fist pulled to punch lands, the spark before it becomes a blaze.) 

He stumbles over his words, and then sighs long and low, drooping his head. “I… was thinking that I can’t avoid this place forever.” He says, and the best lies always have the truth in it. Because it’s not a lie, not completely. But it’s not close enough to the truth either. “And that maybe if I came back, I’d be able to do something about those bad memories. Make them better or make it hurt less.” 

Like wool over their eyes, it fools Sam and Tucker. Their narrowed eyes soften, and Danny feels like a snake is in his lungs as they both adopt their own versions of gentleness on their faces. “Oh, Danny.” Sam breathes out, and the snake squeezes, “Of course, we understand.”

Tucker nods, smiling at him. “Yeah, bro, that’s really brave of you. I know it can’t be easy coming back.” He says, “Maybe you can reconnect with the Waynes again, you always thought well of Mister Wayne whenever you came back from visiting.”

Danny smiles weakly, the gesture cutting into his cheeks like a knife. Perhaps he could. He was still upset with Bruce for hiding Jason’s killer from him. But he doesn’t hate him. Maybe five years ago, he did, when the death of Jason was still fresh in his mind and freshly bleeding in his heart. Now he just doesn’t know what to think of him. He was Batman. Jason was Robin, and the Joker killed Robin. 

It would need to be something he’d have to speak to Bruce about in person, he thinks, in order to resolve it. To hear his judgment on it and make an opinion from there. Danny has learned in the last five years, much to Jazz’s smug delight, that talking to people about something he was upset about did make him feel better. 

The conversation slips on from there into something more light, more breathable. And while they talk, Danny unpacks. He sets up his bed in the corner of the room, adjacent to the windows, and unpacks his cheap TV and table stand. It’s directly across from the couch, in front of the windows. He puts up knicks and knacks he’s collected over the years on the shelves.

When he puts up the curtains, he notices that more than one frame jiggles loosely. Sam makes a comment on the musty stains permanently dyed into the glass, and Danny talks about getting something to fix the cracks. Gotham winters can get brutal, and even if he can withstand the cold, doesn’t mean everything else in his apartment can. 

“Oh, watch this.” He says halfway through unpacking, and pulls out a stick of thick white chalk from a box. “This is something I learned from Clockwork a while back; I think he knew I was going to move to Gotham.” He grins sillily, popping into the camera frame to show them. “I wonder how?” 

Sam rolls her eyes, smiling while Tucker huffs. “It’s not like he’s the Master of Time and can see all past, present, and future.” Tucker snarks. 

Danny hums lightly, curt like he isn’t sure he believes Tucker, and walks to a piece of bare wall not yet blocked by furniture. He starts to draw on it. The chalk shimmers with faint ectoplasm on the wall. 

“Uhh…” Tucker’s voice cuts through, “Are you sure you should be doing that? Won’t you get in trouble for that?”

“There are bullet holes in the plaster, Tucker.” Danny retorts dryly, arching his hand to make a big circle. “I don’t think the landlord is gonna care if I get washable chalk on his walls.” Inside the circle, he inscribes the symbols of the Infinite Realms. “I don’t think he’d be able to see it anyways, he was really old.” 

When he is done, Danny steps back to admire his work. It’s not bad, he thinks, for a lack of practice. He tosses the chalk off to the side, it lands on the couch and rolls back into the cushions. Ectoplasm heats under his hand, slowly glowing from his fingertips before stretching down the rest of his palm. 

Danny’s fingers press against the wall, into the center of the circle. The result is immediate, ectoplasm is siphoned off his hand and into the circle. It glows, and then swirls. He steps off to the side for Sam and Tucker to watch its transformation. The circle fills with a swirling pool of ectoplasm, like a smaller version of the basement portal, and then it warps and stretches. 

It fills out a rectangular shape, shifting like taffy being pulled this way and that, before settling into a solid shape. It solidifies, and instead of a wall there is a glowing purple door, warped in nature and seemingly shifting like a trick of the eyes. He can hear the gentle hum of the zone standing next to it, and can see the carving of the circle in the wood. 

He gestures dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. “Ta-da~” He sings, “A door to my haunt! For whenever I feel like visiting it.” He pats the wood, making a strange thunk-thunk sound. “And then watch this.” 

Danny touches the circle again, and the door twists and recedes like water going down a drain. The circle flashes bright green, and then fades into nothing on the wall, invisible to the naked eye. “I can hide it whenever I want! So if I ever invite someone over—” which he doubts, “—I won’t have to worry about them asking, ‘Hey Danny? Why is there a creepy fucking door in your studio apartment?’”

He gets a pair of laughs for his efforts, and Danny grins wider. 

Sam and Tucker have to end the call when Danny is nearly done unpacking, leaving him alone with only his thoughts and the Gotham ambience outside. There were only a few boxes left, and they promise to call him tomorrow. He tells them that they better keep that promise. 

The silence that follows after they leave feels somberly, as if the reality of moving in has finally set in and filled the air with its loneliness. With its change. Finally, Danny lets the strangeness of moving back to Gotham hit him when he reaches the last box, and he stops to take another smoke break to let it settle. 

It feels so strange to be back in Gotham, he thinks. He’s all grown up, or almost grown up. He can vote and pay taxes, but he doesn’t feel much older than he was at fourteen. There’s a disconnect that makes him feel sad. 

There are cars running outside, driving by. He can only catch glimpses of them, his apartment faces an alleyway. There are dogs barking in the distance, strays he bets. It’s already dark out, and he wonders if he looks out the window he would see the bat-signal shining through the night and staining the permanent cloud that hangs over Gotham. 

Bruce would be so disappointed if he learned the reason for Danny’s return to Gotham. But Danny’s not here for him. He’s here for someone far more important. And like that, the simmering anger that has tucked itself into the furthest corners of his heart starts slipping through. His heart has teeth, ready to strike and snarl and bite. 

He crushes the cigarette in his hand and throws it away. When he opens the last box, it is with hands that tremble and with a face of stone. With a delicateness he does not feel, he reaches in and pulls a corkboard from the box. On the corner frame is a small, near inconspicuous carving of another ghost rune. 

Danny hangs it up on an empty space on the wall, out of sight from the window. It’s plain, and he has nothing to pin to it. He presses the small rune on the corner, pushing ectoplasm into it. Unlike the door, it does not twist and warp and shape itself into something new. Instead it bursts into green flame, eating away at the board and revealing the same thing underneath it, just in dark blue-black-purple. 

Now this board, this board Danny has something to pin to it. The newspaper he bought earlier sits abandoned on the counter, and Danny unrolls it with something like viciousness in his chest. On the front page is an image of a damaged street, and above it is titled: “JOKER STRIKES AGAIN, 3 DEAD AND 27 INJURED”

Danny rips out the first page, he rips out every mention of him. His hands shake and threaten to crumple the paper as he turns back to the board, there is hot blood pounding in his ears. There is an impending sense of finally in his chest, like a setting sun giving the stage to a starless night. There is a stern set in his jaw, five years of festering rage rushing forth like a tidal wave, threatening to make his vision swim. 

It would be so easy, he thinks, to go out as Phantom right now and hunt the clown down. It would only take a night. All it would take is a night, and then he could sink his hands into the Joker’s chest and rip out his heart where he stood. It would be so easy. 

The thought alone forces Danny to stop as he is hit with another rush of fury, really making his head and vision swim. Thorny vines wrap around his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stares at a spot on the wall until the shaking passes. 

If he wants to be discreet about this, then he can’t do it now. Even if he wants to. He doesn’t want witnesses. He doesn’t want an audience. He made a mistake, telling Red Hood about his plan. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all. But he can only hope that the Hood hasn’t mentioned it to Bruce. He knows it hasn’t been long since they started working together. He hopes that the Hood has already forgotten about it. 

He pins the newspaper clippings onto the black-blue-board, and stands back. It’s bare now, but it won’t be forever. 

He presses the circle again, and the pinboard reverts back to its original blank state. 

-----

Was I expecting to make a third part?? No. No I was not. I was also not expecting to make an entire google doc filled with summaries for short story ideas about this au that all tie into each other so that way if i DO continue this i have a skeleton pathway to follow rather than making everything up from scratch and potentially cornering myself

you can find this on ao3 or on tumblr 1 2 :)

[hawkeye221b]

About Thalia's tree

Okay again im looking over things from prior episodes and i just... wanna gush about Thalia's tree.

Ever since i was a kid and read about it i thought it was just a very big, very normal tree.

And then the show gives it depth- gives it a look.

Because look at this!!! look at her!! Not only does the tree look like it was made from a person, but that the person is the tree.

Yeah shes bigger than the kids here- i think she was like, 14-15 at the time she was found? cant fully recall and obviously Tree-Thalia is bigger than normal kids but like.. look at her!!

And the way she's standing- the way she's IMMORTALIZED.. its not cowering. its not afraid or angry like the statues we see in Auntie Em's- she's defiant. shes got her arms outstretched and her body tensed- she's ready to fight to the bitter end and take on every monster that came her way to protect her friends... and how she's looking towards camp itself- towards the safety she never had and could never have- how shes not just doing this for Luke and Annabeth, but for all of them too.

It just evokes so much imagery in barely four seconds of being on screen- the way her hands are outstretched, the way the branches look almost like lightning.. like she was summoning all her power into this- like her father saw and acknowledged this and knew the only thing he could do was make her sacrifice last.. and while i myself am not Zeus' biggest fan in the books/show, part of me thinks this was his form of mercy to her.

If she became a tree, her spirit could protect camp forever and not go to the underworld- a place where Hades ruled and would likely give her severe punishment just for existing. just for being the one who broke the pact he was forced into.

[johndoe-lesbo]

On today’s episode of: “ABSOLUTELY FUCKING LOSING IT”