#like it makes total sense from his perspective he just wants to go nurse his wounded pride

[1bringthesun]

so when dazai was in the hospital with that nurse, who’s the right one to blame?

(discussions of s/a, medical unprofessionally, and other bsd-typical things)

asking this question is wrong to begin with. there’s no, “ oh no, but who will we blame for the situation?” are you really still looking for someone to blame in bungou stray dogs, the series of grey morality?

well, i don’t blame you. so im making a post about it!

for convenience, i’m just going to assume they slept together because it makes the most sense, and is also generally what the fandom assumes when they try to point fingers at either two.

to better understand why people think a certain way, let’s break it down and approach this problem from two perspectives!

the nurse was in the wrong:

dazai had just gotten out of surgery for having a bullet wound and is still under the influence of anesthesia. she sees him using his phone and takes it from him. he’s handsome and willing to do things with her, so she sleeps with him, and when they’re done, she’s willing to give it back. not only that, but she has the audacity to ask again if they can do it “just once more.” it’s obvious she has zero care for him as a patient if she’s willing to sleep with someone fresh out of surgery, and also being under the influence, he’s not able to properly consent. regardless, she takes her chance to be with a handsome man, completely neglecting her job to care for his health as a nurse and breaking probably every single aspect of professionalism.

dazai was in the wrong:

an annoying woman is disregarding the gravity of his work and holding him, someone who’s important to the fate of the city, by normal hospital standards, when he’s been shot by a bullet before and knows his own body inhumanly well; another doctor even gave him permission, so who’s she to act like the boss of him? obviously, this bothers him, and he needs his phone, so he decides to take the quickest path to getting it back, and, spoiler alert: it isn’t recovery. he seduces her and puts her job at risk just so he’ll get his phone back, and when she becomes attached to him, he says yeah, sure, they can fool around again… if he feels like it.

they’re both in the wrong:

people blame her of sexually assaulting him, and also blame him of sexually assaulting her. they say he couldn’t have consented, she overly wasn’t interested in the beginning, she was meant to care for her patient, he’s a scumbag and a womanizer, etc.

but don’t you see? the fact that both of them have done awful things in these two panels…

…is the point.

dazai is an asshole for sleeping with a woman he doesn’t give a damn about just so she’ll do what he tells her to, and she’s totally insane for letting a patient who was just in surgery share physical intimacy with her.

she’s an awful nurse, and he’s a bitch! they both suck!!!! why only blame one of them for sucking?

from an outsider’s perspective, the nurse does seem to be more in the wrong. she was meant to be his caretaker for a while and completely neglected that, even going so far as to have relations with a patient still under the effects of drugs.

but… was he? he was speaking completely lucidly, and none of his thoughts or words or actions resembled someone under the influence in the slightest. he made a sour face at her when he realized he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted to do, and her attitude in the beginning was clearly appropriate for the situation. calling dazai a victim in this situation is wrong. he clearly took the initiative to change her position. is that not consent?

he manipulated her for access to a phone, and she used him as means of gratification, and both of that is wrong.

[foundtherightwords]

Winter Light - Chapter 3

Pairing:Tom Grant (Make Up) x OFC

Summary: Vanessa, a young cancer patient, arrives at a remote holiday park in Cornwall to wait out the rest of her days, but after a chance meeting with a park employee named Tom who's nursing a broken heart, Vanessa realizes life may not be done with her yet.

Warnings: slow burn, fluff with some angst, swearing, serious illness (cancer)

A/N: There's bound to be a lot of content this weekend with JQ's NOLA Fan Expo appearance so I'll the posting the remaining chapters a little later next week. Also, there's some spiciness coming in Chapter 4 (very mild though. Maybe just on the same scale as some black pepper. Or a mild chili.)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Total Perspective Vortex

It was November 5th. The park had been closed for over a week. The remaining staff and the tenants were building a huge scrap pile on the beach, ready for Bonfire Night.

Vanessa watched them from the dunes, where she sat soaking up the last rays of the autumn sun. Tom was there. He waved at her, and she waved back, but she had no desire to join him. For some reason, she wanted to keep their moments together just for themselves, with nobody else encroaching on their solitude. She saw Kai looking over at her and making some sort of remark to Tom, no doubt a provoking one, because Tom then stormed off in a different direction.

Later, Vanessa was resigning herself to an evening with her books when there was a knock on her door. She opened it before the last knock died away, and sure enough, there he was, with his curls all fluffed up by the wind and the smile she'd known so well by now.

"Why aren't you at the bonfire?" she asked.

"Eh, it's just an excuse to get drunk. We can do that here," he said, holding up a six-pack.    

"Sorry, alcohol and my meds don't agree," Vanessa grimaced ruefully.

Tom put the six-pack down, deflated. "Oh. I didn't think about that."

"You go ahead."

"Nah, it's pathetic drinking alone."

Vanessa didn't want him to leave. "How about some hot cocoa then?" she said. "I can't cook, but I make a mean cup of cocoa. And we can watch the fireworks from the dunes."

Tom brightened up. "Sounds good."

When the cocoa was done, Tom carried the mugs to the buff right outside the caravan, and Vanessa followed with a blanket from the sofa. From the buff, they could see the bonfire crackling merrily in the distance. Tom shivered in his thin jumper, so Vanessa offered him a corner of the blanket, but it wasn't big enough to cover both of them. After watching Vanessa struggle with it for a while, Tom held his hand out. "Give it." He took the blanket, wrapped it around himself, and spread his arms out like wings. "C'mere."

Vanessa hesitated, but eventually the cold won out. She sat down in front of Tom, and he enfolded her in his arms, the blanket covering them both. "How's this?"

"Perfect," Vanessa said, trying to resist the temptation to lean into him. She felt his breath tickling her neck and prayed he couldn't see how flushed her face was.

"Sure you don't want to get closer?" Tom asked.

"What?" Vanessa almost shouted. Had he read her thoughts?

"To the bonfire."

"Oh." Her face, if it was possible, got even hotter. She was sure even the tips of her ears were burning and Tom must have seen them. She cleared her throat. "No, this is fine."

Down on the beach, fireworks and rockets were being set off at random, sparklers glowed like fireflies, and some brave soul was even waving around a flare. There was a sense of frenzied, almost unsettling wildness to the whole thing that was so different from the sedate, homemade Bonfire Nights of Vanessa's childhood, and she was glad to be watching it from afar.

"When I was little, we were only allowed a tiny fire in the garden," she said. "No Guy either. In school, me and my friends would make this huge Guy every year, but Mum never let me go watch it get burned. She said it was too dangerous. What she didn't know is that I would climb on the roof to watch the fireworks afterward."

Tom laughed. "And she let you become a lifeguard?!"

"It was at a community pool. Not as if I had to rescue people from the sea all the time."

She could feel Tom grinning as he rested his chin on the top of her head. "Well, you did a great job."

It almost felt normal, snuggling up with him, sipping hot cocoa, watching the fireworks, and talking about her childhood. But Vanessa could feel herself getting too comfortable. She needed to break the spell before it took over. She wriggled out of Tom's arms and got up. "I'm going to get more cocoa, you want some?"

Without waiting for his answer, she walked briskly toward the caravan, but stopped short as she felt sharp twinge in her leg. Tom turned to her. "You all right?"

"Yeah, just my old war injury acting up again," she joked, and went into the caravan, to the bedroom, where her med bag was kept on the bedside table. The pain was building so quickly that just those few steps forced her to sit down. She dug through the bag, then upended it on the bed and sorted through the various bottles with shaking hands.

Tom stepped in. "Everything OK?"

"I can't find my morphine."

He'd seen her chugging it enough to realize how serious this was. "You don't have another?"

"No, I was going to pick up the refill when we go into town next." Her chest felt tight. As if they could sense the barricades were down, the wolves were rushing back, snapping at her bones with razor-sharp teeth.

"When did you last use it?"

"This morning, I think." Her heart sank as she remembered. "I went down to the beach. It must've slipped out of my bag."

Tom dashed out to grab a torch from the kitchen. "I'll go look."

"I'm coming too," Vanessa said through gritted teeth.

"You're in no shape."

"It'll save you a trip back."

Tom didn't argue again. He scooped her up in his arms and ran down to the beach. The party was in full swing now, the bonfire flaring its flames sky-high, its heat reaching them even from a distance. The revelers were dark, monstrous shapes, darting in and out of a hellish red glow that shrouded over everything. Some techno was playing at ear-bleeding volume, the pounding bass combined with the sharp explosions of firecrackers making the constricted feeling in Vanessa's chest worse. 

"Where did you sit?" Tom shouted in her ear. At first, confused by the chaos of the party and the pain, she couldn't tell one dune from another, but when she remembered where she had been in relations to the bonfire, it became clear. She pointed and tried to say "Over there", but it turned into a groan. Tom set her down carefully and started going over the sand with the torch. Vanessa curled up into the fetal position, as if doing so would stop the searing hot needles from spreading all over her bones.

A figure detached itself from the dark whirlwind around the fire and staggered toward them. Kai. "Look who's decided to join us!" he shouted at Tom, his voice slurring.

"Give us some room, mate," Tom said, brushing him aside. "Bit of an emergency here."

Kai saw Vanessa, and his lips twitched up in a leer. He bent down, pressing his face toward her. "Partying too hard, are we?" His breath reeked of alcohol.

Tom pulled Kai away from Vanessa and gave him a shove. "Leave her the fuck alone. She's in pain."

Kai's drunken grin was disconcerting to see, like a dog baring its teeth. "Don't get teasy with me now. Right about the other one, wassan I? Maybe this one's a bit more friendly..."

Tom lunged at the bigger man. "Tom!" Vanessa cried out, half in pain and half in fear. That cry froze Tom in his track. He turned his back on Kai and started sweeping the sand with the torch again. Kai stared at them in confusion for a moment, before lumbering off.

The pain was intolerable - it was no longer confined to her bones, but seemed to have spread over her every tissue until her entire body was one mass of pain. She tried to follow Tom's torch, trying to see where the bottle of morphine could be, but each sweep of light was a knife stabbing into her eyes. She couldn't breathe. The pounding in her ears was deafening. She couldn't tell if it was from the music, the firecrackers, or her own blood. The dark vortex around the fire grew larger. Then Tom was beside her, pressing a bottle to her lips. She swallowed a few gulps, and a black curtain fell over her eyes.

***

Vanessa woke with an unfamiliar sensation. The pain had dulled but left her tired and sore as if she had run a full marathon. Then she realized what the unfamiliar sensation was. There was someone else in bed with her.

She twisted around, as quietly as her pain-wrecked body allowed. Tom was lying next to her, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other wrapped around her. The morning sun shone weakly through the window, dusting his curls with gold and casting the shadows of his long lashes on his cheeks. Vanessa had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss those shadows.

She knew she had fallen in love with Tom, ever since the day he gave her the plants and smiled at her. Despite her determination to wall up her heart, that smile had broken through the barricades with no effort at all and taken permanent residence inside. The moment she saw it, she'd known. If she could have him smile at her like that for the rest of her life, she would not want anything else. There was something about him that made her feel safe, something that comforted her. Perhaps it was the way he took everything as it came, quietly and without complaint. Perhaps it was the way he always knew what she needed, sometimes even before she realized it herself. Perhaps it was just his smile. But she never really thought much about why she loved him. She just enjoyed it. She enjoyed the fluttering of her stomach whenever she looked at him, enjoyed a brief repose from her misery whenever she thought of him, enjoyed simply being in love without having to worry about him loving her back. In fact, she didn't even want him to love her back, because it meant he would be hurt when she died. She didn't want him to get hurt. But this morning, waking up in bed next to him, she ached for what could have been.

Tom stirred, and Vanessa quickly rolled over, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't catch her staring at him while he slept. He woke up and leaned over her, so close she could almost feel his lips touching her ear. She heard him let out a sigh of relief at her breathing and felt his hand brushing a strand of hair away of her face, lingering on her cheek for a moment, before he got out of bed.

Vanessa couldn't move much that day. Tom asked for the day off and stayed with her, helping her in and out of bed, cooking, putting the caravan in order.

"Tom," Vanessa asked that night, while he was washing up, "why'd you stay with me?"

"I couldn't leave you alone after last night," Tom said, his tone implying that there was no debate.

"No, I mean... in general. Why'd you stay with me all this time? Do you feel like you owed me, because I saved you from drowning?" she asked. "Or..." She came up with the worst thing she could think of. "Or do you just feel sorry for me?"

"No, nothing like that." Tom came round to the sofa, sat down next to her, and took her hand. "I mean, I am grateful. But there's something else too."

"What?"

It took him so long to answer that Vanessa was afraid she wouldn't like what he had to say.

"I was dumped," finally he said. "Last year. She came down here to stay with me, and then she dumped me."

"Is her name Jade?" Vanessa said, without thinking.

Tom looked at her, surprised. "Where'd you hear that?"

Oh no. Perhaps she'd made a terrible mistake. Perhaps Jade was no one and had nothing to do with Tom at all, and now he was going to know that Vanessa had been obsessing over it like a fool. "Shirley mentioned her name when I first arrived, and you were kind of... angry," she explained, flush creeping over her face. "She used to live here, right?"

"Yeah," Tom said. "But she isn't my ex. My ex's Ruth. She, uh... left me for Jade."

"Oh" was all Vanessa could say. It made so much sense now.

"We've been together since we were 15," Tom said. "Planned our whole life together. Sounds pathetic, but I really thought we would last, you know?"

Vanessa didn't know what to say. "My longest relationship lasted for two months and ended because he went back to France and ghosted me," she confessed. Pierre the putain, she and her friends had called him afterward. But at least that relationship earned her the clout of losing her virginity to a French guy. "So I wouldn't know, really. But it must've been horrible for you."

"They fucked off to Madeira together, and everybody here knew," Tom continued, his brow darkening. "That's why I didn't want to come back this year. I kept thinking about it, did I do something wrong, if only she'd said something, if only I'd asked her..." Vanessa was reminded of what he'd said the day she told him about her family. Don't expect people to read your mind. So this was where it'd come from.

"It kept playing in loops in my head 'til it drove me mad. But then I met you." He turned to her, his eyes tender, and her heart skipped a beat. "You're dealing with this fucking enormous amount of pain, and you're so brave about it..."

If only he'd known. How afraid she was, going to sleep every night not knowing if she was going to wake up, waking up every morning not knowing if it was going to be her last. How she hid behind her jokes and her nonchalant discussion of death.

"And it made me realize how pathetic my problem is." Tom gave her hand a squeeze. "While I'm with you, I don't think about Ruth much, and if I do, it doesn't hurt anymore."

He clearly meant well. And he must've come to trust her a lot, to confide in her like this. But Vanessa was hurt. Although she didn't want him to love her back, she had hoped he would like her as a friend, perhaps even miss her a little after she was gone. But to find out she was only a distraction, a way for him to forget his own heartbreak... It hurt, and she didn't know why.

"So I'm like your personal Total Perspective Vortex?" she said, finding refuge in humor as usual.

Tom was used to that by now. "Another of your references?"

"Well, I can try to relate on a human level, but it's better to do it via media," Vanessa said. Tom rolled his eyes playfully.

"Let me guess, a Doctor Who monster?"

"No, it's from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. You know it?"

"'Course I do!" Tom said, putting on a show of being offended. Then he added, sheepishly, "Only saw the series once, when I was little. Don't remember much except for the green alien guy. Scared the shit out of me."

Vanessa smiled at his honesty. "It's this machine that when you step inside, it'll show you where you are in relation to the whole universe," she explained. "It gets used as a torture device, mostly."

Tom raised his eyebrow. "Did you just compare yourself to a torture device?"

"Maybe."

"Sometimes you can be a bit fucking dark, you know that?" Tom said, shaking his head at her.

"That's me, the queen of gallows humor," Vanessa grinned back, despite her fractured heart. At least she could still make him laugh.

Later that night, as he was carrying her to bed, Vanessa almost asked Tom to stay. It was so tempting in that moment, with his face close to her and her arms around his neck. But before she could open her mouth, Tom said, as if he could read her mind, "I can stay, if you want." He quickly added, "I'll sleep on the sofa. Give me a shout if you need anything."

A voice in Vanessa's mind told her she would only end up hurting herself. Another voice said it wouldn't matter anyway. It was painful to have him close, true, but it was a safe, almost pleasant kind of pain. "You wouldn't mind?"

"'No, 'course not."

"Then yes, please," she said quietly.

Tom tucked her in. "You're not a torture device, Vanessa Curran," he whispered, before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

Chapter 4

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

When I was new to fandom I was bored by Dany and Jon story. Dany for me was typical fantasy heroine who was winning and getting everything and Jon has basically underdog story which wasn't that new. When I saw the so hyped boatsex I was like eh? I found Arya more interesting and Sansa started to grow on me. It's through jonsa I started admiring Jon and loving Sansa. Also through Sansa and jonsa fandom I realised Dany is a villain which is better than savior of world.

Hi nonny, well you were not alone in seeing Dany as a fantasy heroine (lots and lots and lots of people saw her this way). I suppose I’d disagree with the idea that she is typical...mainly because she isn’t the heroine, and her story is one fantastic inversion of the hero’s journey. I love Dany’s storyline for what it’s doing. Unfortunately, many people don’t see it. I also love Jon’s story, especially as this wonderful parallel to Dany’s, except where Dany’s experiences only heighten her sense of “specialness”, Jon’s experiences are constantly forcing him to see and even “live in” other people’s perspectives. Dany’s arc is about hubris and upholding this idea that she alone deserves unbridled power, while Jon’s is about humility and seeing the inherent value in other people’s lives. He pays dearly for his mistakes, especially when he tries to push his friends away and take on the burden of leadership alone (but that’s getting way ahead of what I want to talk about today). 

Almost immediately, Dany’s chapters are infused with the language of “specialness”. She is the “blood of the dragon”, she is the khaleesi, a princess, a queen...and almost immediately, Jon Snow is disabused about any such notions he may have had, even as a bastard. 

Jon stared sullenly at the smoke rising from the brazier, until Noye took him under the chin, thick fingers twisting his head around. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy."

Jon looked. The armorer had a chest like a keg of ale and a gut to match. His nose was flat and broad, and he always seemed in need of a shave. The left sleeve of his black wool tunic was fastened at the shoulder with a silver pin in the shape of a longsword. "Words won't make your mother a whore. She was what she was, and nothing Toad says can change that. You know, we have men on the Wall whose mothers were whores."

Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.

"You think you had it hard, being a high lord's bastard?" the armorer went on. "That boy Jeren is a septon's get, and Cotter Pyke is the baseborn son of a tavern wench. Now he commands Eastwatch by the Sea."

"I don't care," Jon said. "I don't care about them and I don't care about you or Thorne or Benjen Stark or any of it. I hate it here. It's too … it's cold."

"Yes. Cold and hard and mean, that's the Wall, and the men who walk it. Not like the stories your wet nurse told you. Well, piss on the stories and piss on your wet nurse. This is the way it is, and you're here for life, same as the rest of us." 

A Game of Thrones - Jon III

As soon as Jon arrives at the Wall, his uncle gives him the cold shoulder and goes so far as to verbally reprimand Jon for believing he’d get special favor for being Ned Stark’s son, and then Donal Noye also knocks him down a few more pegs, calling him boy and reminding him that he is no better than anyone else at the Wall. 

"Yes, life," Noye said. "A long life or a short one, it's up to you, Snow. The road you're walking, one of your brothers will slit your throat for you one night."

"They're not my brothers," Jon snapped. "They hate me because I'm better than they are."

"No. They hate you because you act like you're better than they are. They look at you and see a castle-bred bastard who thinks he's a lordling." The armorer leaned close. “You're no lordling. Remember that. You're a Snow, not a Stark. You're a bastard and a bully."

A Game of Thrones - Jon III

Two chapters later, Dany is a married woman and riding in Khal Drogo’s khalasar. While she is miserable at the start (and rightly so. She is sold and raped. I’m in no way pretending that Dany’s life doesn’t start out horrible. It’s far more horrible than Jon’s start to life), she is in a position of power for the first time ever, and lets just say she takes to it just fine. 

Jorah tells her about ghost grass (that passage deserves its own meta - the writing was on the wall from book one, people), and Dany doesn’t want to hear it: 

"I don't want to talk about that now," she said. "It's so beautiful here, I don't want to think about everything dying."

"As you will, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said respectfully.

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III

Jon doesn’t want to hear people calling his mother a whore = Tough luck kid, your mother was who she was. Face reality. 

Dany doesn’t want to hear about ghost grass murdering all life = conversation ends and Dany gets to enjoy the beautiful day without others spoiling it. 

"Wait here," Dany told Ser Jorah. "Tell them all to stay. Tell them I command it."

The knight smiled. Ser Jorah was not a handsome man. He had a neck and shoulders like a bull, and coarse black hair covered his arms and chest so thickly that there was none left for his head. Yet his smiles gave Dany comfort. "You are learning to talk like a queen, Daenerys."

"Not a queen," said Dany. "A khaleesi." She wheeled her horse about and galloped down the ridge alone.

The descent was steep and rocky, but Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart. All her life Viserys had told her she was a princess, but not until she rode her silver had Daenerys Targaryen ever felt like one.

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III

Their stories are inversions of each other from their very first pages in AGOT and it culminates in ADWD which is this wonderful deep dive into how these divergent viewpoints color their leadership styles. 

I don’t have time to go on and on about this, but I find Dany and Jon’s stories fascinating and I love them as foils. They just don’t make any sense from a shipping perspective. 

That being said, for the show, I totally bought into the pol!jon theory. That was the only thing that made season 7 fit any kind of narrative sense, and with that lens I didn’t mind the season or the boat sex scene, because I thought the lack of chemistry was the point. LOL. I’m a clown. 

However you came to Jonsa, I’m glad you did! I agree. Dany makes a much more interesting villain than she does a heroine. We don’t need any more white savior stories. Blech. 

[edasnest]

Fair enough my friend. In any case it probably won't be canon, (to me) because its too good to be true. Though at least its clear the Good Witch Azura is no mere book series and has a role to play. Anyway, allow me one headcanon ask!: How would Camila react to Willow and Amity and specially to know they are in a relationship with her Luz? And how would Amity and Willow feel about meeting Camila for the first time?

(This took me forever and I’m so sorry)

This one’s a lot lmao

Camila:

I think after Luz introduces them as her girlfriends Camila had to have a Conversation with Luz after the girls have gone home for the night. Like, she watches them interact in the time that she meets them but her Mom Alarms are ringing in her head. Two girlfriends???? 🤔 they all seem to get along fairly well (which is actually almost a little jarring to Camila; she’s used to kids Luz’s age thinking her “too weird” to hang out with unless they had no other choice) and she sees these girls....actually look at Luz without judgement. In fact, they look at her with adoration, even when Luz starts acting “weird” in the way that would make other kids uncomfortable. These girls laugh at Luz’s antics, but in a kind way, a way that says they love the way she is.

Camila, as a nurse, didn’t exactly have “the Talk” with Luz so much as she just answered Luz’s questions as she grew up. When Luz was about four or five and asked where babies came from, Camila left out some details, but explained the scientific process to her on their drive home from kindergarten. Luz yelled about how yucky it was because “boys have cooties!!!” And didn’t bring it up again until she was maybe 10 and got her first period. It was then Camila went into more depth about the whole “baby making” process and the concept of intercourse in a strictly medical sense that made Luz super uncomfortable and hate everything about human biology. She wished so desperately to live in the world of her Azura books where Azura never got a period, she was too busy adventuring and saving the day.

So when Luz goes missing and then comes back with not just one, but two girlfriends?? That’s another layer of The Talk that Camila hasn’t gotten to yet. So after the girls go home, Camila sits Luz down at the kitchen table and starts asking her questions about Amity and Willow, just trying to get to know them from Luz’s perspective a little more and get a gauge on how their relationship started. Camila is relieved beyond all else that Luz goes on one of her patented Exciteable Babbling Sessions; absolutely cooing over how adorable her girlfriends are, how smart and brave and talented they are, how they were the first real friends (besides Gus) that she made on the Boiling Isles, the adventures they’ve gone through together, the wacky antics they got caught up in, etc.

Camila’s genuinely happy for Luz at this point, but she still has Mom Responsibilities. So she asks Luz if they done anything more...intimate. And Luz flushes bright red before vehemently denying the accusation and hiding in her hoodie out of embarrassment. Which is exactly the reaction Camila was hoping for, so she finally relaxes and laughs and coaxes Luz out of her hoodie to give her a hug, letting her know that as long those girls make Luz happy, Camila will be happy for her. AND as long as they make smart decisions and don’t do anything crossing that line until they’re older to which Luz just groans and buries her face in her mom’s shoulder, begging her to stop.

After all the introductions and reassurances are out of the way though, Camila finds that she loves Luz’s girlfriends. Luz was absolutely right; they’re both smart and talented and extremely bright young ladies that are both eager and exciteable like Luz, but have a grounding element in each of them that helps tether Luz and brings her back to earth when she starts getting carried away. Camila is amused at how curious they are about human devices too; Amity is especially taken with Camila’s meal prep without the use of any magic at all. Willow is in awe of the computer mostly; she’s certain it works similarly to a crystal ball, but she can’t figure out how it’s supposed to work without magic.

Willow and Amity:

Willow and Amity are scared shitless the first time they meet Camila.

Luz being able to go home to her mom has been a primary goal of hers ever since the portal was first destroyed. Ever since then, there have been countless times Luz has sought comfort from her friends and eventually her girlfriends. So when they were able to access a new portal, they were so scared about what that meant for the three of them. Luz insisted that she go back to the Human Realm; not forever, she’d never just abandon the life she made on the Boiling Isles, not unless she didn’t have a choice. But she needed to go back to her mother and see what she could do to convince her to let her come back to them. She promised it wasn’t a goodbye, it wasn’t a breakup, and it wasn’t the last time she’d see them. So Willow and Amity held Luz and cried and eventually let her go and they slept over at the Owl House that night (with Gus too, he was part of that See Ya Later party and made sure the girls stayed hydrated what with all their crying).

When Luz returned a few weeks later, in her school uniform and scaring her girlfriends half to death by sneaking up on them, they tackled her to the ground, hugging and crying and laughing in relief. She explained the deal she had with her mom and that she wanted to bring them all to the Human Realm to meet her (Camila had actually already been to the Demon Realm in this time; Luz gave her a grand tour of everything she knew about while also keeping their heads low so as to not draw attention. It’s in this time that Camila came to understand what the boiling isles meant to Luz, reaching an understanding with Eda, and telling Luz she needed to finish Human School too, but she could do so online. So now that Camila knows about and has accepted Luz’s life in the Boiling Isles, Luz wants her to meet all the amazing people she’s met).

So the following weekend, they planned a trip over to the Human Realm (Willow, Gus and Amity with Eda as the chaperone) where they all finally got to meet Camila for the first time.

To everyone’s relief, Luz opens the door first to welcome them inside. She leads them to the couch to sit down and her mom enters with a (probably overeager; she’s very nervous) hello and a tray with several glasses and a pitcher of batida de lechosa. She sets down the tray on the coffee table and introduces herself to the kids one by one and Amity has to summon her inner Blight Poise to make her voice not shake. Willow has to pretend this isn’t her girlfriend’s mom she’s introducing herself to. (Camila is secretly just as nervous as they are; she wants to make a good first impression on Luz’s friends.)

Once they start talking though, everyone manages to relax. The kids are all extremely enthusiastic about the batida de lechosa (and tell Camila as much) and Gus can barely contain his excitement and at some point just starts shooting rapidfire questions about human life.

Overall their visit goes well, although Willow and Amity are on edge the entire time, doing their best to be polite and gracious and answer Mrs. Noceda’s questions. They really want to make a good impression on Mrs. Noceda, but Luz’s constant flattery and talking up their accomplishments (*cough*bragging*cough*) leaves them both flustered and blushing.

When they return to the Demon Realm after that visit, they’re both lamenting about how nervous they were, how they must’ve fucked up since Mrs. Noceda seemed so reserved and on guard during their visit. Eda has to remind them that the existence of the Demon Realm is still p new to Camila which does ease some of their fears, but certainly not all of them.

Luz texts them later about the MORTIFYING conversation she’d just had with her mom about “intimacy” and “waiting til we’re older” and “consent is no laughing matter, Luz” and as embarrassed as Willow and Amity are at the implications, they’re both relieved that that is what made Mrs. Noceda act so stiff during their visit. Nothing to do with them being Witches or from another world, just a mom protecting her baby.

From that point on tho, they totally hit it off with Camila; Camila loves sharing Luz’s most embarrassing baby pictures (which Luz complains about but takes it in stride). The girls love discussing more of the nuanced aspects of Human Culture and are extremely interested in Camila’s job as a Healer Nurse. Camila loves watching the girls perform magic like it’s second nature to them and absolutely delights in the flowers Willow grows in pots that she never had the time or energy to take care of herself.

[incorrectlumityquotes]

FULL REVIEWS: “Escape of the Palisman”

Hiatus time is a mixed bag. On the one hand, it gives fans time to breath, think about the show, mull it over, and work on fan stuffs. On the other hand, waiting suuuuuucks and I want it nooooowwwwwww. This episode was presented as the midseason finale and honestly I was just kinda excited about it.

I mean the main plot is fine and all but my favorite part of any show is the characters. If I really love the characters than I don’t mind watching them do whatever as long as I have a good time. How important and slash or impactful was the first midseason finale? Let’s find out.

.

Oh snap. Do I really not have the promo pic for this episode? Hold on. Yeah, that’s a no.

Uh...picture picture picture. Whatever. 

The cold open is delightfully hilarious. Eda and Luz take King to the park to play in the playground where he tries to conquer the bumpy slide. Just typing that made me laugh. 

Another kid pushes him off the slide and King’s demand for revenge leads into Owlbert’s full introduction and exposition on palismans. Eda got her staff but she made Owlbert. I guess it’s The Boiling Isles’ version of familiars. And then we get one of my favorite things ever: King’s Squeak of Rage.

“He’s like a little tea kettle.”

Then we’re all reminded that we have a main plot looming over our heads and Eda has a weird blackout from her curse. Good thing we did it from Eda’s perspective. Imagine if we saw it from Luz’s point of view. That would have scared me and given me some adult fears. A little too close to reality for me. 

Eda does what all adults do on their late afternoon off and wants to take a nap. Luz suggests taking care of her and putting King in a little doctor’s outfit. Which is fine I guess but how cute would he look in a little nurse outfit with the skirt and the little hat with the red cross on it? So cute.  

But turns out Luz has plans with Twidledweeb and Twidledorkus (Gus and Willow). They’re off to see Luz’s first grudgby game, and Luz had a little thing called HEXSIDE PRIDE!!!...which really bothers me.

I never understood school spirit and slash or pride. To me pride is something you are allowed to have when you accomplish something, so national or ethnic pride never really made sense to me. There are exceptions to the rule. Minorities with a history of being oppressed are allowed to be proud for surviving their tormentors so gay pride or black pride is okay to me. But proud to be a Texan or whatever is really weird. There is no test to take or obstacle I had to overcome to be born in Texas. Am I glad to be a Texan? Sure I guess. We got the best food here. But proud? I didn’t do anything so not really.

School spirit is worse because I never saw school as anything more than a means to an end. I didn’t attend school because I wanted to. I did it because I had to. Am I proud to have passed all my classes and move forward? Sure. That’s something I accomplished. Am I proud to have gone to the specific school that I went to? No! I just went there because it was within walking distance and my parents didn’t want to give me a ride. I did it because it was easier.

I will give Luz a bit of a break here because, for one, it’s a magic school. Totally cooler than a regular school, and she’s allowed to be excited. And two, she does have to do something to get in but that’s for a later episode. 

Another Skara sighting! She’s so cute. What? Don’t look at me like that. It’s a cute design. Oh whatever.

“We get to go see the footballs match.” RIP Willow’s eye.

I love how all the main characters are such huge nerds that they all refer to it as sport. Not sports. Sport. Seriously, when’s the last time any of these nerds ran anywhere? And I mean with their legs, not by holding X.

Turns out that Luz is wearing Glandis High colors so she goes to the lost and found in a very gross line about mouth guards and they missed their ride.

Images you can feel, Volume 1 of many

Luz and co get the terrible idea of borrowing Eda’s staff to go to the big game and I could really go for some B-plot right now.

So that’s a no on the fire then?

King goes to Eda to get feedback on his revenge scheme to discover that Eda has partially transformed into the owl beast. Since she’s partially transformed she retains some of her mind, leaving her susceptible to suggestion because I guess that’s how that works(?).

Luz shows up to borrow Eda’s staff and King pulls out fiction’s laziest plot device and lies some more to get rid of her. One funny ass joke later and we’re off to the big game.

Hey guys, I literally just remembered right now at this very moment that Luz has no idea what the hell she’s doing.

The episode takes another dark and serious turn as Luz and co crash land to discover Owlbert literally cracked his head open and he runs off into the forest in fear and pain.

Images you can feel, Volume 2

The group follows him to discover that he has taken refuge in the lair of The Bat Queen.

Luz wants Owlbert back but The Bat Queen forces Luz to partake in...the trials (ooo ooky spooky!). Willow notes that no one has ever successfully done The Bat Queens trials. After declaring no helpsies, Luz beings The Trials of The Bat Queen (ooo ooky spooky). Her trials include things like get rid of bee’s nest and give the babies a bath.

No wonder Willow said no one completes The Bat Queens trials. These are all things no one wants to do. If one of the trials included getting rid of a bee’s nest I’d say “fuck this shit I’m out” too. Even Luz puts it together and figures out that The Bat Queen is just making her do her chores. 

The Bat Queen doesn’t want to give Owlbert over until Owlbert chooses to go back with Luz. Even then The Bat Queen refuses to let him go. One struggle later and Luz discovers an interlock on The Bat Queen’s foot.

The Bat Queen used to be a palisman on a great staff for a giant, but that was a long time ago. Now she protects all lost and slash or discarded palismans. The Bat Queen allows Owlbert to back home with Luz, and Luz promises to help The Bat Queen whenever she wants to find out the truth. (My money is on she was the titan’s palisman)

Meanwhile in the B-plot, King takes the mostly transformed Eda to the playground to take back his throne. Only for Eda to start chewing on it and get taken away from animal control. In the biggest surprise of the episode, that snot nosed little kid gives a really creepy speech, King gets Eda to transform back with his Rage Squeal.

Eda returns home and somehow allows King and Luz to both continue living in her house, eating her food, burning her electricity and breathing her air. Whatever. It’s been a day for everyone.

FINAL SCORE: 4 - Liked it.

I liked this episode, but probably not for the reasons you’d think. Truth is I’m not really interested in The Bat Queen’s whole deal. Sorry, but she only came out once before for like a minute. I mean I guess it was fine but I wasn’t into it. I really wanted to give this episode a 3.

But damn did I love all the jokes and the B-plot. I think King/Eda B-plots are just really funny. King was on point today, and even Gus was funnier than usual. Willow got one or two good jokes in there too. Also I’m pretty sure hearing Braxis saying “It’s a monster” bumped up the score for me.

So far so good. Lots of soft intros and lying as a plot device, but we’re past the halfway point. Let’s see what happens next.

[foxofthedesert]

So I just finished my 3rd watch thru of Merlin, and yet again am brokenhearted. Not only by Arthur's death and Merlin's grief, but by Morgana's tragic descent into madness. Though I loathed the choice, I always understood why the writers went the direction they did with Morgana. What I did not understand was the way they handled her relationship with Gwen. It just never made any sense to me that Morgana could be so cruel to someone she clearly loved very deeply - even if only in the platonic sense. To me, it seemed like the Morgana that existed at the end of season 2 was replaced by a totally different, inexplicably cruel and insufferably smirky one by the start of season 3.

Still, prophecies need fulfilled and such, and after all it is a fantasy series based on a complicated mythology where Morgana sometimes is portrayed as evil. I just wish it was handled better.

Be that as it may, as a writer I tend to gravitate toward the untold stories within canon. That being the case, Gwen and Morgana's relationship is a natural attraction. I adore their chemistry, which makes them so easy to pair up. Since I am also not necessarily beholden to canon, that means I can imagine whatever the hell I want for them. Such an AU where their potential is realized before Morgause enters the picture to warp Morgana into her father's daughter.

This little piece is part of that. I may or may not add more entries in the future.

As a side note, this was initially supposed to be much shorter, but my fingers wouldn't stop typing words. Silly digits.

Ficlet below the line!

Morgana awoke giggling in an entirely unrefined manner. Her uncharacteristic bubbly mirth, she discovered, was due to a gentle tickling sensation all across her face. Once the wispy haze of sleep was blinked out of her blurry eyes, a familiar shape resolved into an entirely too handsome face wearing such a love-sick expression that her chest reflexively suffused with an affectionate warmth that quickly seeped into her very bones.

“What time is it?” she asked to the person hovering above her, voice still gravelly and slightly slurred from having been roused out of such a deep, blessedly dreamless repose. The pleasant tickling sensation began anew immediately after her half-slurred inquiry, and when she lifted her gaze she was greeted by rich brown eyes she would swear on her life she could live and die in.

“Just after dawn.” The utterly enchanting creature paying her such lovely attention continued to delicately and reverently brush calloused fingertips across the expanse of her jaw. “Sorry I woke you. I meant to let you sleep in a bit longer, I just really couldn’t help myself.”

A pause allowed a full, dusky lip to be pulled rather invitingly between pearly white teeth before her beloved added, “It seems I never can where you are concerned.”

Morgana smiled. A genuine smile, too. Nothing like the false ones she graced her guardian with, full of barely suppressed loathing and rage. Lately she had been consumed by disgust for the man who so many times proclaimed to cherish her, a man who would see her burnt at the stake if he knew who she truly was. Uther Pendragon claimed to be a fair and just king, yet he waged unlawful wars against territories that dared stand up against his brutish rule and relentlessly persecuted innocents whose only crime was to be born different. People like her. People with magic.

Coming to terms with her gifts had cost Morgana both countless nights spent in wakeful torment over horrific visions that plagued her dreams and untold days spent wrestling with throat-clogging anxiety over the possibility of discovery. There were many occasions during that frightening period in which she felt as though tottering precariously over a dark, abyssal chasm at the bottom of which lie only inescapable madness. Every second spent at court was an exhausting exercise in choking down a nauseating terror of the tyrant who held the power of life and death over her and would surely decide upon the latter should he learn the truth about her magic. Meals were a unique form of torture due to the perpetual knot residing in her stomach and every event she would normally revel in was transformed into a dreaded affair during which she could scarcely breathe for the crushing weight resting upon her chest.

Frankly, if it hadn’t been for Guinevere and Merlin she is sure she would have already plummeted headlong into those foreboding depths, right into the waiting arms of a hatred no human heart could withstand without incurring irreparable damage.

If Merlin hadn’t told her the truth about his magic as he lead her to Aglain’s druid camp, the pervasive sense of isolation and desperation worming insidiously through her mind would have inevitably forced her into drastic choices. Even before her magic manifested she had silently nursed treasonous thoughts toward Camelot’s cruel monarch. What might she have done if the walls closed in so tightly on her she felt there was no avenue of escape outside of acting upon those unsavory impulses? It hardly bears thinking about for risk of inviting such evil desires back in to her heart when of all her attributes, it is her heart which makes her most special – or at least that is what Guinevere insists to be the case.

Thankfully, finding a steadfast friend and ally in Merlin had done much to ameliorate the suffocating feeling of helplessness she felt as a member of the court harboring so deadly a secret. With much diligence and patience he was teaching her to control her powers, to harness them for good, and to have faith that better days were ahead for their kind. It was also mostly due to the Merlin’s deceptive wisdom and boundless optimism – and to be fair what reasonable person could resist that impish, dimpled smile? – that she began to view Arthur through a fresh lens.

If she bothered to look deeply, as Merlin insisted, to ignore the chauvinistic bravado and infuriating superiority complex, it was not difficult to recognize Arthur’s innate nobility and compassion that existed despite his monstrous father. And seeing as Merlin was as stubborn as he was convincing, it did not take long for Morgana to accept with a cautiously hopeful heart that with the aid of loyal friends, Arthur had it in him to become to the greatest sovereign Camelot had ever seen, a king who might actually prove himself worthy of the people both common and magical to whom he would be sworn to serve. Of course, she and Arthur still had their mundane squabbles and butted heads frequently over political and legal matters, but in the months since Merlin began her training, Morgana had acquired a new appreciation for the young man who was to her as good as a sibling.

As much as Merlin had done for her, however, it paled in comparison to Gwen’s contributions to her health and happiness.

For as long as Morgana had known Gwen she had held the blacksmith’s daughter in esteem far higher than any Lady should their maidservant. What started out as mutual respect born from shared grief over the loss of a parent soon flowered into genuine friendship. For many years they were the best of friends, each providing for the other a refuge from the storms of life and a confidante more reliable and wise and loyal than could be hired with all of Midas’ gold.

By the time Morgana entered womanhood, her fondness for Gwen had only swelled to become boundless as it was profound. In her eyes, Gwen was the most wonderful person in all the world; none could hope to be her equal in breathtaking beauty, charitable kindness, seemingly endless stores of patience, altogether praiseworthy meekness, a silent strength surpassing steel, or in nearly saintly levels of graciousness. Gwen was the unfailing light to Morgana’s rapidly encroaching darkness, the quickening sun to her deathly pale moon, the Aurora to her Luna. She neither trusted any more deeply as she did Gwen, nor did she desire the company of another so keenly. As a result, they were rarely parted until retiring for bed, and then only by necessity of station. So inextricably attached were they Gwen’s friends often jested that she must have accidentally stitched herself to her lady’s garments at the hip. The noblewomen were not nearly so kind. Some of the more prominent Ladies in the castle questioned the innocence of their arrangement, going so far as to exchange idle speculation which painted them as clandestine devotees of Sappho.

If Morgana could be bothered to care about the rumors, she would have confronted the useless busybodies long ago. But quite frankly, their opinions on her relationship with Gwen mattered for naught seeing as Arthur dismissed them as absurd upon reaching his ears and, beyond even that, Morgana would rather die than provide the snide gossipers ammunition that might serve as tacit confirmation that their unwelcome conjecture was not without merit – which was in fact the case.

All the same, though, she took great pains to prevent them from reaching the ears of the king. Uther already disapproved of their unusual bond and reminded her of such every time she treated Gwen with an ounce of basic human dignity while in his presence. Rather than censure the prejudice as she might have no long ago, Morgana now bore the chastisement with pride. Were it required, she would gladly wear forty stripes upon her skin if that be the price of Gwen’s love. The haughty bigotry of her guardian could never dissuade her from the path her heart had chosen to travel. Gwen was far too precious to ever surrender without a fight, to death if she must.

For what felt like ages, Morgana had believed her feelings would never be reciprocated. And that was perfectly acceptable to her, so long as Gwen remained an integral part of her life. The constant yearning that caused her chest to ache, sometimes almost painfully, was something she could endure so long as Gwen was happy.

That perspective radically transformed the night Gwen’s father died.

The midnight bells sounded in the citadel as Morgana slipped out into the upper town. Her intentions were pure at the time. She had only meant to visit her friend and offer what support she could, no matter the reckless impropriety of her visiting the her maidservant’s home so late at night. Instead, one glimpse of Gwen’s devastation over the pointless tragedy reignited her rage. All too quickly it boiled over, allowing those old, bitter feelings to spill out as impetuous threats of vengeance, and not only on Gwen’s behalf but for all those wronged by the merciless hand of Uther Pendragon. For what felt like hours she railed, heedless of the effect her malicious speech was having on the distraught girl she was supposed to be comforting.

It was only when Gwen – sweet Gwen, kind and thoughtful and selfless to a fault – had been pushed to her limits that Morgana’s perilous vitriol was interrupted.

Casting aside station, Gwen grasped her by the face and made her swear to never utter such dangerous words again.

“My brother has already abandoned me and now both my parents are dead,” Gwen had said, lips quivering and cheeks stained by tears. “I can’t lose you, too. I can’t. I won’t survive it.”

“Of course you would, Gwen. You’re the strongest person I know,” Morgana had replied, grasping reflexively at lean wrists, Gwen’s hands having migrated to the back of Morgana’s neck, thumbs cupped round the front of her ears. It was the first time she had been embraced so intimately, and if it weren’t for her anger she most certainly would have shivered with excitement at the surprisingly welcome contact.

“I’m not,” Gwen had half-sobbed, voice hoarse from hours surrendered to grief. “I’m only standing at all right now because the person I love most in all the world is here with me.”

Morgana hadn’t understood the nature of that declaration at first. Not until Gwen tucked her lip between her teeth, her nostrils flared with what could not be misinterpreted as anything but raw want, and her eyes went impossibly dark. A sharp gasp of realization was all Morgana could manage as a response, so stunned was she that her most secretive and treasured wish was being fulfilled.

But when Gwen nodded, chest heaving with emotion, despair and fear warring with adoration in her eyes, Morgana could no longer contain herself. Suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle fused together, revealing the explanation as to why a simple smile from Gwen was able to chase away the storm clouds gathering above her head, or why Gwen’s chiming laughter kicked up butterflies in her stomach and a captivating warmth in her chest, or why even the most airy of touches from Gwen left a wake of goose-flesh in her skin. It wasn’t just love. It was destiny.

In retrospect, Morgana probably should have been as if not more terrified of crossing that final, socially forbidden line between mistress and servant, friend and lover, than she was of being magical. The thing of it was, the only relevant factors in that moment was Gwen willingly offering of herself more than she probably should and Morgana being selfish enough to accept.

They made love that night beneath Gwen’s threadbare sheets, and it was glorious, just as Morgana had imagined it would be.

All of their sorrows and anxieties and animosities drifted away like dandelion seeds upon a crisp summer breeze. Cliches regarding such unions suddenly made sense. Somewhere along the journey that began by laving the stiffened peak of a pert breast then languidly progressed into nestling her face into the delicate, aromatic flower situated between smooth bronze legs, she lost all sense of self. It was as if with each bruising kiss, playful nibble, and greedy draw with open mouth, she and Gwen were merging into one being. Gwen’s throaty noises and keening pleas reverberated through her every muscle fiber, down even into the very marrow of her bones. Gwen’s intoxicating flavor permeated her senses until it was all she could taste or smell. And Gwen’s gratification became hers as her hand slipped beneath her ridiculously extravagant undergarments to relieve the desperate pressure upon a mound so slick with arousal that the sound of her feverish rubbing was positively obscene.

Mere heartbeats after Gwen went taut with a silent scream, stars exploded behind Morgana’s eyes as the most exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain engulfed her mind and set her nether regions aflame. Spent and unable to control her trembling limbs, she collapsed across Gwen’s heaving chest. Strong arms immediately wrapped around underneath her arms to pull her in tight, and as she buried her nose in the damp curls at Gwen’s neck, all she could do was weep, utterly overcome by an unspeakable joy she understood without needing to ask was fully mutual. They fell asleep like that, Morgana stretched across Gwen, encased in an embrace that felt like a subconscious announcement of a claim upon her, heart and soul and body, something she not only welcomed but reveled in.

Wonderful thoughts about publicly belonging to Gwen lulled Morgana into a peaceful sleep that went markedly undisturbed.

In the pale light of morning she was still so drunken upon pure, heady, all consuming bliss to realize she would be missed if she did make an appearance in the castle. Had Gwen not pointed that out, she would have been more than glad to spend the entire day wrapped around her new lover, discovering every last spot that made Gwen’s toes curl ‘til the girl was too exhausted to move the tiniest muscle.

Alas, the constraints of reality marshaled both of them to action, and so once they had dressed, they sneaked carefully into the castle by auxiliary corridors during the changing of the guard. By only the slimmest of margins, they slipped into her chambers just as the fresh patrol rounded the corner in their direction. Once inside, the thrill of the close call and euphoria over their consummated love invigorated Morgana into a passion she could not ignore. Overcome by a need – more like an almost maddening hunger really – to touch, smell, and taste every delicious inch of the skin she had feasted upon last night, she unceremoniously dragged a breathless, ruddy cheeked Gwen straight over to her bed.

After that thorough christening, they lingered together in a tangle of limbs, both sated and happy. At least until the sound of Camelot’s awakening resounded through the chambers from the courtyard below and with it the first doubts crept in. Morgana could recall the subsequent conversation as though it had just happened.

***************

“I should see to my duties directly,” Gwen had said, immediately rustling to exit the bed upon hearing Arthur’s booming voice rattle down the hallway, clearly a response to the latest in an endless string of mistakes by his loyal yet tragically clumsy manservant.

Morgana hadn’t wanted to turn loose quite yet, so she tightened hold around Gwen’s waist, halting the undesired escape.

“They can wait,” she replied between leisurely kisses trailed up a shapely arm. “The laundry isn’t going anywhere, nor is the evening gown that needs mending. Stay with me a while longer.” She paused to nuzzle into Gwen’s shoulder. “Stay with me forever.”

Rather than struggle, Gwen melted the embrace. “You know that is all I wish for. I love you, Morgana. More than anything. But…”

“But what?”

“What if someone catches us?”

Morgana scoffed, having missed the long term nature of the question in addition to the concern pouring off of Gwen in waves she should not have missed. It was not her finest moment. She hadn’t meant to be insensitive, though. The idea had just seemed so preposterous at the time because she had thought Gwen was only speaking about the present.

“Who would be so bold as to enter my chambers without permission?” she had said. “Not even Uther at his most disrespectful would dare venture such a trespass. We are entirely safe here. No need to worry your pretty head.”

Gwen shifted in Morgana’s arms then so that they were face to face. “I do, though. Worry that is. And I have to ask: why aren’t you?”

“Why should I be? For that matter why should you be?” Morgana replied. And then she met Gwen’s eyes. Large, and impossibly dark, and unmistakably upset.

All of the sudden it was impossible for Morgana to ignore how frightened Gwen really was. In response, her stomach twisted almost painfully and her heart fell as the happy bubble she had been floating in abruptly burst.

What in all the world, she wondered in a moment of regrettable obliviousness, had Gwen afraid of them being caught? Her brow furrowed as deeply as it ever had as she mulled around potential causes.

Certainly they were going to have to be careful in the future to avoid exposure, she reckoned, but Gwen was as fully cognizant that there were more perilous secrets both were currently keeping. Morgana’s ability to pull the wool over Uther’s eyes was well established, and no one else besides the two of them had unfettered access to her chambers. Besides all that, Morgana knew every nook and cranny of the citadel and was able to slip out and into the upper town undetected at will, of which Gwen was also very well aware. So there had to be more to it. But what?

Only one other possibility occurred to her, and it was the one she least wanted to entertain. And yet...

“Unless you regret what has transpired between us?” she asked at length, unable to disguise her own fear, which manifested through a faint trembling in her voice. “No!” Shaking her head fervently, Gwen grasped Morgana’s face much as she did the night before. “Not even for a second. I’ve lost so much, and I have much to regret, but not this. This is the best thing to ever happen to me. I just…”

Again Gwen trailed off, her hands retreating to clasp together against her mouth. And although Morgana’s anxiety had quieted with Gwen’s reassurance, there was clearly something still bothering her.

“Just what?” Morgana prompted, then reached out to stroke Gwen’s hair. “I hate seeing you so twisted up. Tell me. Please.”

A single, contrite nibble of a kiss-stung lip later, Gwen averted her eyes and gave her answer, “Don’t you wonder, even just for a second in the back of your mind, if what we did was wrong?”

Morgana very nearly sighed in relief. This was a problem she could easily remedy, as it was a one she had wrestled with for years only for Merlin’s simple yet profound worldview to unexpectedly resolve.

During the incident where Gwen was accused of using sorcery to heal her father, he had stumbled upon Morgana beside herself after a visit to Gwen’s cell. In her anxiety and grief she had confessed to having feelings for her handmaiden that although unseemly nonetheless had taken hold of her. Where she had expected disgust, she was instead given only understanding and compassion. In that endearingly provincial way of his, Merlin ensured her that love – if true and pure and unselfish, which he insisted hers for Gwen surely was – could never be wrong.

Morgana had felt something turn loose inside her at Merlin’s easy acceptance, as if her heart had been tied into a knot being slowly and perpetually tightened. Breathing became a relief once again. And as she learned to accept herself the way Merlin did, she began to hope that perhaps one day in the future a door would open for her to act upon her feelings without destroying what she and Gwen already shared. She could not have anticipated Tom’s death being the impetus for her to do so. Yet as awful as his tragic death was, it birthed something so infinitely precious that Morgana would never cease being grateful. And if only for the memory of that kind, thoughtful, patient man, she would never stop fighting for the love she shared with her beloved Guinevere.

“Gwen,” she had said, unsuccessfully vying for her conflicted love’s attention. Twice more she called Gwen’s name, and after receiving no response pushed up slightly on her elbow. “Look at me, Guinevere.” When large, uncertain eyes, brimming with tears, met hers, she leaned over so that she could press her forehead against Gwen’s. “We have done nothing wrong. Do you hear me? If you trust me, if you love me as you assert to, believe me when I say this. Something so wonderful and beautiful and perfect could never be anything less than rightly divine.”

***************

That phrase that swiftly became Morgana’s favorite answer to Gwen’s occasional concerns. The world at large, and most definitely those housed within the vaunted halls of Camelot’s citadel, would most certainly view their relationship as wicked and immoral and perverse. If that was indeed the case, Morgana did not believe she ever wanted to be either innocent or righteous. Their love was wonderful, and beautiful, and perfectly divine; an immutable fact which Morgana was determined to never allow either of them to forget.

No doubt lurked within Gwen’s eyes this morning, however, only unadulterated affection. And that made Morgana exceedingly joyful indeed.

“I understand what you mean,” Morgana at last said after escaping that precious memory. She sighed contentedly and shuttered her eyelids as yet another reverent brush of fingers smoothed along the crest of her chin. And while the diligent attention felt incredible, she grew increasingly curious why Gwen’s focus appeared to have narrowly fixated on that one specific region of her face.

“What’s the matter?” Gwen said after a bit of easy silence.

“What makes you think something’s the matter?” Morgana replied, still basking in the glow of Gwen’s magical touch.

“You have that telltale crease between your brow which means something is bothering you.”

This time Morgana opened her eyes. “I’m not bothered, merely at a loss as to why you suddenly find my chin so hypnotizing.”

Gwen sucked at her lip momentarily as if weighing whether to answer before a crooked smile bloomed across her handsome features.

“Well, not just your chin, but if you must know it’s all these little hairs…” And then she stroked Morgana’s chin again, this time allowing her fingers to feather over said hairs all the way down her jawline.

“Are you saying my face is hairy, Gwen?” Morgana asked, frowning as a thread of hurt pulled taut.

As should be obvious, she didn’t appreciate it pointed out that her alabaster skin failed to conceal what otherwise would have been a nearly invisible coat of fine hairs that covered all humans male and female alike. Arthur teased her about it relentlessly when she was a blossoming teenager, and even now some of the noble ladies who envied her would snidely comment upon how it clearly indicated that she was a witch destined for a life of barren unhappiness.

Up til now, Gwen had made no mention of that peculiar feature and Morgana would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t wounded that it would be brought up only now that they were in an intimate situation.

“No!” Gwen’s eyes went wide as the full moon. “No, not at all! I mean...well, yes, it sort of is.” A huffed breath of remorse followed Morgana’s gasp of offense. “Not that it’s a bad thing! I swear I meant no insult. I have some too, after all. It’s just less visible because of my skin tone probably. And don’t worry! It’s nothing like Lady Johanna’s fledgling beard. Not even close. On the contrary, they’re so tiny and delicate and wispy and soft, and I really am utterly obsessed with them because they are part of you and you are perfect, so they are also perfect by extension, and I just can’t get over how adorable they are, and I am currently babbling like a lunatic with zero manners. I am so sorry, milady.”

At the end of that adorable ramble, Gwen’s shoulders hunched in as her cheeks darkened and she yet again sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Any insult Morgana felt evaporated as quickly as it formed. How could she be upset with such an enchanting creature?

Reaching across Gwen’s waist, she pulled her abashed lover down until they were flush, skin to skin from shoulders to hips.

“Oh, Gwen, there is nothing to be sorry for,” she said, legs instinctively parting as Gwen’s familiar weight settled against her. “My reaction is habit, I’m afraid, due to Arthur’s derisive mocking. It’s actually quite nice to hear a compliment for a change.”

“Are you sure you’re not cross with me? I’d understand if you were…”

No one with a functioning soul could be cross with those doe eyes staring at them, Morgana decided. She danced her fingers with lighthearted mirth across Gwen’s cheeks and over the ridge of her nose.

“Nonsense, sweetling. It’s no different than me admiring your freckles.”

Gwen’s features relaxed into a flattered smile. “You like my freckles?”

“Like them? I love them! How could I not? It’s like you said, they are a part of you, and you are perfect, therefore they are perfect by extension.”

In response, Gwen gave her an appreciative little smile before arresting her hand to place a kiss upon the inside of her wrist.

“So you won’t mind to be awakened like that again should I fail to curb my weird fascination?”

“Only if you won’t should I wake you by mapping the stars written across your cheeks,” Morgana said, then returned Gwen’s tactile affection with some of her own by again acting out her words with her own fingers. She was pleased when Gwen leaned in to the touch.

“I promise I won’t. I think I’d quite fancy that, actually.”

“Then I promise, too. And if you’re a good girl today, perhaps I will indulge your fancy tomorrow morning.”

“Well, then, I’d better get to work, hadn’t I?”

Eyes flashing with eager anticipation, Gwen threw the covers aside and made to get out of bed – a development Morgana was not prepared to authorize. Not only was she of a mind to lounge abed and cuddle away another hour or two, all of Camelot was blanketed in snow and she was loathe to be deprived of Gwen’s heavenly body...heat.

“Now, now,” Morgana tugged at Gwen, almost desperate with a need to curl right back into Gwen’s warmth and never move again while hoping she sounded at least somewhat the dignified noblewoman she was supposed to be. “Don’t be so hasty. Have you forgotten yourself and your duties to your lady? I haven’t yet had my good morning kiss.”

Gwen tumbled back into bed giggling merrily. “For shame! I have failed my lady most unforgivably. I shall rectify the trespass immediately.”

“See that you do, Guinevere, and promptly,” Morgana said, her eyes twinkling as her own merriment curved her lips into a smile. “As you know, your lady does not appreciate being made to wait.”

After a deliberately silly half-curtsy, Gwen draped herself across Morgana’s body, and once settled whispered her reply against Morgana’s already tingling lips.

“My lady’s wish is my command.”

The brief peck that followed was not enough for Morgana. Fingers winding into dark curls, she pulled Gwen into a much more passionate kiss, which lead to another, and another, until the embrace quickly evolved into tangling tongues and undulating hips. Soon enough, Gwen’s head was disappearing beneath the sheets and Morgana was having to recall how to breathe due to the magnificently excruciating pleasure coursing through her loins.

And that was how she came to be late for her first appointment of the morning, where she was relentlessly lectured about the importance of punctuality over manchet, eggs, sausage, and apples sprinkled with cinnamon. It was worth it, though. Her giddy grin throughout breakfast only made Arthur more bewildered and Uther more angry.

[drethanramslay]

Voicemails (Part 2)

Pairing: Ethan X MC

Word count: 6.3K words (damn that's a record)

Catch up here.

MASTERLIST

Taglist: @miyakokurono​ @trappedinfandoms​ @openheart12​ @sekizincimektup​ @junggoku​ @ethandaddyramsey​ @edith-eggs1​ @pixelberryownsme​ @samihatuli​ @loveellamae​ @x-kyne-x​ @paulfwesley​ @zeniamiii​ @binny1985​ @an-urban-witch-ig​ @ramseyegerton​ @noboundariesplease​ @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey​ @newcolonies​ @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs​ @choices-love-affair​ @kaavyaethanramsey​  @caseyvalentineramsey​ @ohramsey​ @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq​  @junehiratas​ @lilyvalentine​ @nooruleman​ @itsgoingnuts​  @agent-breakdance​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choicesfanaf​ @humanpokemon​ @temptress-of-death-and-desire​ @ac27dj @rookiefromedenbrook @gaiusimp @theeccentricbibliophile  @oofchoices @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter @fabi-en-ciel @mrsdrakewalkerblog @elwetritsche75 @livingpurpose @theraisingrail @drramseysownsme @queencarb​ @andromedasinclaire​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ☺️)

Special thanks to @kittykatchoices​ you are awesome <3

Songs: Based on Rock Bottom by Caro and I have added a few more songs to my playlist which you should hear to enhance the experience.

Forgive me if I make any mistakes

DAY 36 (in Boston, Massachusetts)

Leah trudged down the hallway, sipping on her umpteenth energy drink in that day. Her eyes were trained on the chart in her hand, struggling to read them.

Everything looked bleary from the lack of sleep and her eyes were burning under the glare of the clinical lights. Her entire body was begging for rest but it was as if a switch had been flipped in her brain to ignore it. She ignored her thoughts, her feelings and the ever growing void in her chest.

So is this is how vampires feel, huh? Leah questioned herself, snorting at the poor attempt of a joke. Doing that caused her body to pain.

Pain.

That's all she felt these days. It was initially the pain of a heartbreak and rejection but now, it was just tiredness from the burden of her emotions.

Look at me now... From sunshine I have become a shadow...

Why Ethan?

Why?

Leah was the kind of person who always made fun of the naive girl in a rom-com. Her definition and perspective of love had changed when her mother cheated on her father. She did not shun the idea of being in love, but she was still kind of sceptical about it.

And now that she had a taste of it, she was addicted.

She knew that Ethan returned her feelings. She was not blind and oblivious like him. She could see it in his ocean eyes when they stared from across the room. She could hear it whenever he called her 'sunshine'. She could feel it when his arms wrapped around her as she breathed in his musky cologne, with hints of scotch in it.

They say love is a drug but that's not true.

Ethan is her drug and she craved him.

"Hijo de puta." She muttered under her breathe as she ran her hand through her hair, only to feel her shoulder length locks.

She had cut her hair after her birthday. The entire ordeal had destroyed the remaining sanity in her and she couldn't bear to look at herself. Whenever she would see her long hair, she would be reminded of the times when Ethan would play with them and she would get numb all over again.

She craved change so, she went ahead and cut her luscious, black, waist length locks and added highlights to them. It cost her a bomb but she didn't care.

She didn't care...

That was her mantra now.

She just focused on going through the motions of the day, one step at a time. But often, she found herself stumbling into the pit of self doubt and sadness. Leah knew that she was slipping into depression and that she should do something to change it but... It's addicting. The self wallowing is addicting. The numbness is addicting. The self depreciation is addicting.

She avoided her friends as well but they never gave up on her. Bryce would try to crack jokes and make her smile. Elijah would sit with her and play COD so that she could let out all her anger and sadness by killing some bitches. Aurora and Sienna would force her to eat but whenever they weren't looking, she would give her food to Shawty, their fennec fox. They even tried to provide her emotional support but Leah couldn't bear to see the pity in their eyes.

You should count your blessings... Her consciousness nudged her.

The only thing I want to count are the days until I see him.

She felt her phone vibrate and she unlocked it to see the notification but, the photo on her wallpaper made her stop. It made her heart ache.

She had used Ethan's photo as her lock screen. It was one of those many photos she had clicked of him, which Ethan did not find amusing. It was late and she was bored at the medical convention, so she just clicked them for the heck of it. He was annoyed but despite that, he had a small smile dancing on the edge of his lips.

Who would have thought the great Leah would drop down to such low levels of pathetic? She jeered at herself.

Her phone rang again and a name flashed on it. She immediately silenced because she knew that if she were to pick up that call, she would burst into tears.

She had just finished signing her charts when her pager beeped of, signalling that she was being paged by the Chief.

Leah's face scrunched up with confusion as she left the charts at the nurses' station and headed to Dr. Banerji's office.

What did I do wrong? Leah thought to herself as million of thoughts ran through her head, increasing the pounding in her head.

Trying to calm her racing heart she knocked on the open door. Naveen looked up from his desk and a beautiful smile broke on the senior diagnostician's face.

"Ah! Dr. Garcia, come on in. Take a seat." Naveen said with a warm voice as she walked in and took a seat right opposite him. There was a glass facade behind Naveen which overlooked the busy atrium of the hospital.

"You wanted to see me Chief?"

"Yes I did."

"May I know what is it regarding? Because I think that my heart will pop out of my chest with the excessive stress."

Naveen gave a hearty laugh and Leah gave a nervous smile to him.

"No, you haven't done anything wrong. In fact, I am giving you a couple of days of holiday for your hard work."

Leah shook her head and gave a fake smile. "Thank you Chief but... I don't need an off. I love my job and saving lives so no need for this special treatment."

Naveen leaned forward on his table and locked his warm eyes with Leah's tired ones. "You deserve it. It's been brought to my notice, that you have been working way too hard."

Leah sat a little bit more rigid, not liking the message behind the sentence. "Isn't that a good thing? And isn't that what Edenbrook wants from their doctors?"

"Technically yes... But we also want our doctors to not burn out."

She clenched her jaw before speaking. "Chief, I am perfectly fine. I am not burnt out and I have been very proactive. My patients are all stable and breathing, I have been even helping with the ER more, so how is all of that an indicative of me burning out?"

"Leah... I see you as my grand-mentee and I know you well. I am coming from a position of concern for you. I can't have you being sleep deprived and malnutritioned. It's not good for you."

Leah's eyes narrowed. "How do you know I'm malnutritioned? You haven't even seen me since the last three weeks. And don't say that my friend's put forth this concern because I know that I have done a damn good job convincing them that I am okay."

Naveen just gave a sympathetic look and it clicked.

Letting out sharp breath, she looked down and straightened her pencil skirt, trying to distract herself from the gnawing pain and the influx of hope.

"He called you... Didn't he?"

Naveen gravely nodded his head. "Yes he did. Leah... Please take the next four days off. It's an order."

Leah nodded her head and got up, stuffing her hands into her coat, so that she could hide her trembling hands.

"Yes Chief."

She was about to walk out when Naveen called out to her. "Leah... If it's any consolation, he is in a terrible state and misses you too much."

"No... that is no consolation." She said steely, her eyes becoming cold.

"Leah, just trust me. Ethan has had a tough childhood which has forced him to grow up too soon. He has never been a normal kid let alone a normal teenager. When kids his age were chasing love, he was chasing books. That's why he is a walking robot with no sense of emotions.

Leah, since you came into his life, you have woken up the parts of him which he has kept suppressed. You have forced him to stop and feel. And it's been overwhelming for him. So, just be patient with him."

Leah didn't say anything. She just turned on her heels and strode out of the office.

As she walked to the locker room, she clenched her fists. She was totally pissed and the need to punch something was becoming unbearable.

How fucking dare he just control my life?!

She changed out of her clothes and stuffed them angrily into her satchel. She picked up her phone and saw a notification.

(1) message Captain

She read the message and she felt a little happy. She loved her dad and since the entire shit show had started, she missed her family even more.

Speaking of shit show...

He eyes narrowed in on Ethan's contact and the momentary happiness was dissipated, and anger flooded her body. Her shoulders tensed and she clenched the phone even tighter. She pressed on the call icon near his name and picked up the phone to her ear so that she could give him the cursing of his life.

After ringing a couple of time she heard his baritone voice flood through the speaker.

You have reached Dr. Ramsey. I am currently out of the country. If it's urgent, please leave a message.

"Ethan Jonah Ramsey! You are a maldito (damned male)! For a man, you are one maricon (pussy) and I swear as the days pass by I am more convinced that you are a bastardo sin huevos (ball-less bastard)!!

How fuckin dare you, you asshole?! I fucking know that you called Naveen to tell him to give me an off. I don't know weather to dance with joy that you heard my voicemails or to kick you in your balls for not responding.

You need to man the fuck up Ethan because I know that you are so fucking strong. I know it so well."

She panted, anger swirling even more in her chest.

"Ethan you need to stop playing the fucking victim. I know that you have had a tough childhood and that really hurt you... But I didn't have it any easier either. I was bullied through out school and my mom used to pimp the fuck outta me. She even cheated on my dad for five consecutive years till I kicked her out of the house."

Tears stung her eyes as she spoke. "But that did not once break my spirit E. I didn't let the damage of my past define me. I focused on redefining myself and I got rid of my bad habits like smoking weed and drinking every alternate day."

"We all got scars and I know that it hurts sometimes. I am not discounting your pain but, if you continue to let it eat you up baby then you will lose yourself to it. And I don't want that for you.

Ethan... You are such a beautiful soul and such a great man who is deserving of the best things in life. You deserve love and happiness. The only thing which is standing between you and all the good things is... Well you.

Stop punishing yourself. Because that is not only going to hurt you, but also the people around you.

You have been so deep in that vicious cycle that you haven't realised that you are hurting me too..."

She sighed as she looked down on her black converse.

"Ethan, emotions are what make us human... You can't run from them forever.

What we have, is so so beautiful... Just come back to me so that I can show you that... Till then, take care, love you and bye..."

DAY 36 (in Tefé, Amazonas)

"Till the take care, love you and bye..."

You have reached the end of the voicemail.

Ethan brought his phone down, guilt and shame swimming in his blue eyes. He knew that it was a dick move to call her superior and get her to take an off but he couldn't bare to see her get weaker and weaker as the days passed.

And the fact that I am the reason behind her sadness...

Ethan pressed his palms against his eyes and applied pressure so as to push back the tears threatening to spill.

He felt so much shame. It coiled around his chest, slowly tightening, choking him.

He didn't deserve her love and he definitely did not deserve her empathy. He did not deserve her kindness nor did he deserve the compassion that she showered his way. She did not deserve to be treated like a doormat or be fucked over by the mixed signals. If he truly loved her he would leave her behind and move on with his life.

But he is selfish.

He couldn't bear the thought of seeing her in the arms of another man. The thought made him want to punch the closest thing to him. He looked down to stare at the wallpaper of his lockscreen.

It was one of the many impromptu pictures he had clicked of her. Most of the ones he had were when she wasn't looking his way but this one, was one of the rare ones where she stared at the camera. A beautiful dimpled smile stared back at him, her hair covering half of her face.

God, she is beautiful with a divine soul.

I don't deserve her... But I want to be hers...

He took the stationery out and with a heavy heart, proceeded to pour out all his regret and shame on to the coffee stained paper.

DAY 45

After numerous sleepless nights Ethan knew that if he didn't sleep, he would surely collapse.

So bidding his colleagues adieu, he went to the motorcycle parked in the makeshift parking lot.

He had recently learnt how to drive a bike and now he somewhat related to those motorbike junkies.

It was an exhilarating experience. The breeze whistling through his brown wavy hair, the feeling of the sun shining on his face and to hear the roar of Amazon as he rode down the roads was intoxicating.

He felt the most at peace when he rode the bike. The hum of the engine beneath him would lull him into a state of calmness and it's only during those times, his mind would wander to Leah.

He would often think about how much Leah would enjoy pillion riding. He could imagine her having this wide grin on her face and her arms wrapped around his lean waist. He could imagine her hair billowing behind her in wild waves and the sun would make her skin glow with a caramel hue. She would giggle as the wind tickling her face.

These thoughts were what kept him sane, and gave him something to look forward too. He knew that it was ironic but he just couldn't help himself.

It had been a month since he had last seen her and he missed her so much.

The sun had set and Ethan parked his bike near the B&B he was living in. After taking out the keys from the ignition, he climbed the steps leading to the reception. He gave a nod to the receptionist and trudged to his room, tiredness making him hunch as he walked.

As he stepped into his room, he started stripping till he was in his underwear. He headed to the bathroom to get fresh, his body on auto pilot. His brain felt like mush and his eyes were bloodshot red.

I need a scotch... He thought to himself. In the last month, all the pubs and restaurants were closed so he couldn't go anywhere to get a drink. He was stressed and tired, both emotionally and physically.

He sighed and headed to his bed, stark naked. The moment his head hit the pillow, he passed out, slipping into a deep slumber.

He was so deep asleep, that he didn't hear the sound of his phone ringing.

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

Sunshine streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The reflection of the river casted shadows on the walls and the birds chirped a happy tune, to signal the start of a new day.

Ethan started waking up gradually, feeling much better. He felt well rested and his back wasn't killing him anymore. He stretched, the muscles of his abdomen and back, contracting and relaxing, as he got rid of the lingering sleep.

He sat up and his eyes landed on his phone. Picking it up he started checking his notifications as he headed to the washroom to start with his morning chores.

There were a couple from the hospital, updating him about the patients. None of them were dead so that's a good thing. He saw messages from his dad and Naveen but his eyes narrowed in on a particular name.

Leah🌞 (1) voicemail (10) messages

That's new. Ethan mused as he brushed his teeth. He pressed the play button and kept the phone on speaker.

"Heyyyyy Ethannnn." Leah slurred and Ethan's eyes widened.

"What's up duuddddee? How is it hangin' man? It been so long since I have spoken to you and no this...this 'voicemails' don't count because you aren't replying to me."

A short pause followed before Leah spoke up over the music. "Do you hate me? Like I need to know. I need ANSWERS. Am I that revolting that you had to run thousands and hundreds of miles away from me? Is it because I snort when I laugh?"

Her voice cracked towards the end before she snorted.

"You know what? You are one grade A pussy. Yes, you heard me! Inserts the 'Why are you running?' meme. I don't think you would understand that context because you are an anormal. I- I don't understand this running business. I show you affections you run away. I compliment you, you run away. I have sex with you, you run away. Maybe... Maybe I am the dumbass here?

Tbh, I have no fuckin' clue!!

And I am here all alone in this... Dive in bar or whatever the fuck this is, and the guys have just been flirting with me. And they should because I am a motherfucking goddess!! Like have you see my ass? Wait, you have whoops... but the point is, whenever they walk up to me or- or buy me a drink my dumb brain goes on to analyse how they can never compare to you.

So thanks bro, you fucked me up real good!"

Leah laughed so hard and worry churned in his chest.

She blew a raspberry. "Ethan, idk man you suck. Like so bad...or should I say good? I am confusion at this point. When I am sober, I miss you so so much. So I decided why not forget by getting completely and utterly wasted. But... Now I am drunk and I miss you more and none of my friends are here to save me from my phone so sorry, if I said somethings that I meant, 'kay?

I honestly though that loving you would be easy but... I don't feel like loving you anymore. But that's the thing about love... You can fall in love easily, but getting over someone you love could take foreverrrr.

So, don't worry bro. It's not like I am getting over you anytime soon and I am not running away anywhere. Can't say the same thing 'bout you though...

Anyways, it is 3 am and I see Bryce coming... So fuck you man. You missed out on your one shot at love and I hope you be alone for the rest of your life. Peace out, chinga madre!"

The voicemail ended and Ethan stood in shock.

I don't feel like loving you anymore...

You missed your one shot at love...

Those words cut so deep into his heart. It was painful and Ethan had to grip the counter. He could feel his heart shattering and tears threatened to spill. Those words hurt, it felt like a stitch tearing or a punch in the gut.

Ethan was never one to be affected by words. But these ones stung him.

So this is how Leah felt when I ran away...

As Leah says, I am a dumbass.

Ethan reached for the tap and splashed water on his face and wiped his hands before opening the messages.

Leah... I may be an asshole but I will always want to be your asshole.

That come out wrong.

Fuck.

Ethan shook his head and sat on the desk, scratching his beard and thinking of what to write in his response.

DAY 50

Ethan took his stethoscope from his ears and smiled at the child. "You are getting strong Julio."

"So I am killing all the bad germs?" Eyes filled with curiosity looked up at him.

"Yes. You are just like spiderboy, killing all the bad guys."

"It's Spiderman Dr. Ramsey!!" The boy exclaimed.

It's the same thing! But, Ethan knew better than to bring it up. He had learnt his lesson with Leah and her obsession with Marvel.

"Okay, okay, spiderman. Just a another week of rest and medicines and you will beat all of the bad boys like him."

"But the medicine is so yucky..." The 4 year old scrunched his face up and crossed his arms.

"I know the medicines taste bad so I have something for you for being a good boy."

"Really?!" He asked gleefully.

Ethan dug into his coat and took out some lemon candy. "Here Julio."

He squealed and took it. "Thank you!!"

He felt his phone ring in his pocket and he took it out to see. When his eyes landed on the notification, his face morphed into a grin.

Leah🌞 (1) missed call (1) voicemail

"Who is that?" Julio looked over Ethan's hand to look at the phone. Ethan looked at the kid and saw him staring at the wallpaper of his lockscreen.

"That... That is a girl."

"Even I can see that Dr. R." The kid rolled his eyes and studied Leah's picture with utmost concentration. "Is she your wife? Or your girlfriend?"

Ethan choked and covered it up with a cough. "Um... nothing of that sort. She is just a girl, who I miss a lot."

"But she must be something you, no? If you miss her so much?" Brown eyes twinkled as he looked up with innocence in his eye.

"She is my Sunshine." He shrugged as he ruffled Julio's hair. "But enough worrying about me. Be a good kid and don't bother your mama, Julio." Ethan started walking out if the room.

"Sim! Also, luz solar (your sunshine) is so pretty." The boy called out to him.

Don't I know that?

Ethan shook his head, smiling to himself as he walked up to the nurse's station. He disposed his gloves and sanitized his hands before taking his phone out. He walked to the near by supply closet so that he could hear the voicemail without any disturbance.

"Hey Ethan... Well the last voicemail was a disaster, wasn't it?" Leah nervously chuckled over the line.

"Please don't hate me. I tried to apologise through the messages. And I know you read them because I saw the bubble with three dots for half an hour. So, if you think you are sneaky, then you need to work on your skills old man." She chuckled and Ethan chuckled at the comment.

I could never hate you sunshine.

"I am actually doing so much better now. I think I just needed to get wasted... Have a good cry... And curse you out or something. No offense.

I have been listening to so many songs and I relate to them at a spiritual level. Everything sounds like a love song now. It's a real dilemma whether to dance or cry to them.

Also, Sienna has been such a huge help! Naveen told her whatever happened and she is so supportive... We watched trashy romantic movies and ate so much ice cream. My dad also it's going to come in a couple of days so... Maybe he will give me advice?

So things aren't as hopeless as they were a week ago.

I mean, it still hurts but it doesn't rip me apart everyday. I still hate you a little but, my love overpowers it. It's a war everyday but I try to beat down the sadness everyday."

Ethan felt so proud of Leah. She just needs to be reminded how strong she is and she will annihilate all her demons.

"I am gonna be honest... Your tactic of running away isn't going to make my feelings less for you, because absence makes the heart grow fonder. Like right now, I am witnessing Zaid feeding Ines cake. It's their anniversary and they are so in love that I feel like an outsider.

I mean I am in love but, the love of my life isn't here. So... Yeah.. I miss you right now... But, I have a strong feeling that our relationship is a unique kind, Y'know? Our relationship is so deep rooted and emotionally strong, that it can survive numerous storms.

We are so beautiful and so strong together... 

I am just waiting for the day when you realise that E.

And when you realise, I hope you come back to me."

Ethan brought his phone down, heart filled with so much love for this woman. He is aware of the feelings he had for her and he could have said those three words easily. But, deep down he knew he wasn't ready.

He wasn't the man she deserved yet. He had way too many demons of his past and in order to be with her, he had to face them and this time, he would do it the right way.

So with a bitter sweet feeling and courage, he got up and went back to work.

DAY 53

"Doctor, the gymnasium lot of patients are responding positively to the new vaccine." The young intern spoke excitedly.

"That's good. And have we finished the inoculation procedure for ward 314?"

"Yes doctor."

"Excellent work, Dr. Santos." Ethan nodded before looking down at the charts. It was mid afternoon and the sun relentlessly beat down on his back, making his sweat excessively.

He was standing outside the make-shift tent near the gymnasium, going through the charts. He was posted in the hospital, on the other side of the city usually but they swapped him to work at the gymnasium for today.

He could see so much joy and happiness in the recovered patients as they embraced and kissed their loved ones. It was a harrowing period for them and being apart for two months can really be lonely. He saw the young lovers kiss and hug each other tightly.

Will this be me and Leah when I meet her again? Ethan wondered as his eyes dropped down to the sheets of papers in his hand.

"Ethan! Glad you could join us here." Dr. Batra said with a soft smile.

"Hello to you too Dr. Batra."

"I have told you numerous times to call me Neelam. We have worked and fought an epidemic together so you can call me by my first name."

"Sorry Neelam, force of habit I guess."

"How are you since I last saw you? Have you been eating? Have you been sleeping?" She asked, her eyes critically observing him, like a mother does to her child.

Ethan was not familiar with the concept of maternal love. He found it foreign but at the same time, it helped a little in filling the void in his heart.

"Yes Neelam. I have been taking care of myself."

"And how about your, jaanu?"

"Jaanu?" Ethan asked inquisitively as he turned his head to look at her.

"Jaanu in hindi means love of your life." She said with a sly smirk playing on her lips.

"Good god." He groaned and stuffed his face even more into the charts, feeling his cheeks burning up.

"She is fine." He muttered out.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear that."

Ethan narrowed his eyes at her and she just gave a toothy grin. "I said that she is doing fine. As fine as she can be." He felt a tinge of guilt flare up in his chest.

"Ethan... Don't feel guilty. If she truly loves you, she will understand." her face full of empathy.

"That's the problem!! I have been nothing but a fucktard and yet she shows me empathy and loves me unconditionally. I feel so damn guilty and I hate myself for hurting her."

"Ethan, I have said this before and I will say it again. I can see how much you love her but, how will you return all that love if you can't even love yourself?"

"Love myself? Where is that coming from?"

"You put up the 'I don't give a damn about your opinion' vibe but I can see the self hatred in your eyes. Son, you are the thorn in your own path."

"I..." For the first time in a long time, Ethan was rendered speechless.

"Ethan... The first step towards loving someone is loving yourself first. Okay...Imagine that you have a cup. Self love fills half of that cup up and when you find 'the one', it becomes full. It's like a mutualistic relationship, you fill her cup up and vice versa.

Right now, your cup is empty because of the self hatred. And your girl is trying her very best to fill up the void but, she is loosing out on herself while doing that. It's hurting her as well as you."

"So what do I do?"

"You communicate. You talk out your feelings. Have trust in her that when you open up your deepest vulnerabilities, she will accept it and not hesitate to love you. Love is a two way street. You can't expect her to bare her soul if you can't do the same."

"Wow." Ethan's head was full with thoughts.

"Wow indeed."

"Neelam, we should call you the Love doctor."

She gave a tinkling laugh, her dark brown eyes twinkling. "Nah son. I am just a woman who has seen a lot in life."

He was about to respond when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He dug his phone out and unlocked it.

Leah 🌞 (1) voicemail

"Sorry I have to take this." Neelam nodded and he walked towards the deserted park. He sat down on the rusty swing and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey... So I told you that my dad was coming to Boston, right? Well, we had a nice chat about us and it's been really insightful.

Needless to say my father said some not nice things and he almost brought an entire squad of marines to beat the shit outta you BUT, I stopped him because as much as you infuriate me, I would like your pretty face intact."

Ethan chuckled as he played with his frayed ripped jeans.

"I told him about how sad I have been and how everything sucks. I even spoke about the happy times when we would solve the various cases together or the times when we would buy take out and pull all nighters. I spoke about my fears and doubts that maybe, just maybe you don't love me. After hearing my rant he told me something that helped erase all the lingering doubts.

He said, "Mija, When someone makes you the happiest person and the saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something." Isn't that true for us?

I can make you so angry that you could put hulk to shame but, I can also make you laugh when you are low. And vice versa! You make me so happy most of the times... when you are not being a colossal pain in the ass."

There was silence on the line, as if she was thinking.

"I think I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt... only more love.

This is just a rough patch but, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Just like after a dark storm comes sunshine.

This is just a test for us, to see if we are strong. And believe me, I think we are the unstoppable duo. The diagnostics posse!

And when all this... Haze of doubts was cleared from my mind, I could see clearly. I could remember the promise I made you.

I will be waiting, for as long as you need.

And it's true.

So for now... I will love you through the phone. I will try to make it a point for you to know, that I will never ever stop loving you. I will be there through thick and thin.

Just give me a chance to prove it. Have faith that I will catch you when you fall. Just, come back to me.

I love you...bye."

Ethan stared at his phone for a long time. There were so many thoughts swimming in his head. But one thought just rang wide and clear in his head. Or rather, one word.

Sunshine...

So he sat there, alone with his thoughts until the sun set on him.

DAY 59

"To the best team of doctors!" A thunder of applause ran through the huge crowd as they screamed and shouted with joy.

"Thanks to these geniuses, Tefé is now free of cholera! Also, a huge thanks to the citizens as well. Your support has been so helpful. We are strong together!" The mayor's voice boomed.

We are strong together... You and I. Leah's words resounded in his head as he looked down at his combat boots, arms crossed.

He wasn't paying any attention to the mindless congratulations. His mind was swirling with the thought that within 60 hours, he is going to see her.

He was done with slogging his ass and he was done running. He will man the fuck up, and fix his issues before he asks her out. That's a promise he made to himself.

The gift he bought for her, weighed him down with uncertainty. Whether she would like it or not.

His mind was also going back to last year. The intern year was going to come to an end in two days and Ethan couldn't fathom just how far she had come. Last year, at this time, he met her. If you would have told him that he would have fallen head over heels in love with someone, he would have just admitted that person for LSD overuse. But, now here we are.

Damnn... Its already been a year.

After the thank you ceremony was done, the doctors headed to the pub for a drink. They ordered some local cuisines and a couple of beers to celebrate their win. As much as Ethan enjoyed the smooth scotch running down his throat, he still couldn't keep his mind off their inevitable meeting.

Will she look at me and be angry?

Will she throw a drink on my face? Or kick me in the balls?

Or will she jump into my arms?

Questions... Questions...

By the time they were done, it was almost 2 am. They had an afternoon flight so that was a good thing. He wasn't drunk, but definitely a little tipsy. The last thing he wanted was to nurse a hangover early in the morning that too, on a flight.

After being dropped off at his B&B, he felt his phone vibrate. He saw Leah's name flash and his face scrunched in confusion.

It's late, she should be asleep.

He pressed the button to play the voicemail and Leah's soft voice flooded, making Ethan even more intoxicated.

"Hi... Today it's a clear sky and honestly, it looks so beautiful. The moon is shining so bright and the stars are twinkling. I was brought up in Washington DC and never in my life have I ever seen so many stars at night. It's so breathtaking..."

Ethan headed to the basically and stood outside. He leaned on the railing and looked up and indeed, it was a starry night. It was like diamonds glittering and swaying in the moonlight. And the moon... It shone in its elegance, basking Ethan in its radiance.

Leah chuckled. "I can't believe it's been a year since I became a doctor. A full fledged working doctor. It seems so surreal how this year passed by in a flash. I feel like I have grown and matured, but at the same time I still feel as clueless as my first day of work.

The day I met you... T

o be honest, I expected a grumpy old grandpa as Ethan Ramsey, but I got a handsome, dashing grump instead. I ain't complaining though. It's just...I am in a reminiscing mood."

Don't worry sunshine... Me too.

"Did you know, when we look at stars on a clear night sky we are, in a way, looking back in time? Before you roll your eyes and think this is some philosophical propaganda, there is a perfect logical explanation to it. What we see today is an object whose emitted light started its journey millions of year back and from trillions of kilometres away and are reaching our eyes now.

So... Here I am, peeping into the memories of our past. The kisses, the hugs, the love making and the joyous moments we shared. I miss that..

I miss us... I am here, waiting for you.

Come back to me, Ethan."

Ethan replayed the voicemail, as he continued to look at the stars, thinking back to the times when he had her I'm his arms.

Don't worry sunshine, I am coming home.

well, what do you think?

and what do you think will be Leah’s reaction?

a. she will kick him in the nuts

b. she will kiss the fuck outta him

c. all of the above

I hope y'all liked it.. was lowkey nervous bout this fic heheheh

like, comment and reblog ;))

[gayenerd]

An interview with Mike when Warning came out that I don’t even have a source for - sorry!

Laughing Off a "Warning" With Green Day 

Bassist Mike Dirnt's green thumb, punk perspective and personal dominatrix 

If Mike Dirnt wasn't in one of the most enduring and influential punk bands making the scene, the Green Day bassist could easily be a hilarious stand-up comic. Instead, he's devoting his insightful social commentary laced with witty repartee to the business (and funny business) at hand -- the band's sixth studio album, Warning. While Green Day's Nimrod and (especially) Dookie humor doesn't seep through in this seemingly ominous album title, it may be because these Bay Area hooligans -- Billie Joe Armstrong (vocals, guitar), Tre Cool (drums, percussion) and Dirnt -- have accepted and submitted to certain rites of passage other than platinum-selling discs. But it's definitely not as ominous as all that. We bantered with Dirnt to gauge the barometer of Warning, life as a prankster punk and his bid for world domination as Armstrong's presidential running mate. What would you like to talk about? Probably not myself (laughs). … It gets you so self-involved and self-absorbed, [that] it makes it difficult to change your perspective for an hour or two after you're done doing interviews. It's not so much narcissistic as it is dwelling. It's like being on tour and coming back and decompressing and acclimating to your home life again, because your surroundings are all about you, you, you for so long, that you need to stop and go home and realize, 'Hey, wait a minute. Other people aren't asking for a lot. I'm probably just self-absorbed still, and being an assh*le for a while and don't realize it.' And you need to take a breath and go, 'OK, how can I focus on the smaller things in my life, like getting up in the morning and making my girlfriend coffee? Or making my daughter breakfast.' And taking the focus off yourself for awhile. I think that's important. 

What's fun to talk about? I'm growing a huge pot plant in my back yard right now. My friend gave me this pot plant and I just left it in the window and left the light on it forever, and it grew and grew and grew, and got pretty big. So then I put it in my backyard just to see what would happen, and I came home and it's f*cking enormous! (Laughs) It's of the superskunk variety. It is nasty. Pretty cool. [My friend] is very proud of me. He said, 'Wow, Mike, that's beyond a plant -- that's a crime.' I smoke pot once a month. I take one hit. So I'm gonna give it all to friends.

No "jurassic monkeys" [joints] for you? Not this year.

Any special reason? Three months before my daughter was even conceived, I stopped smokin' pot and I stopped for about a year and a half, just to clean up my act. After that, it's never been the same. I haven't smoked as much pot ever since. I would hate to think that if she needed me, I was impaired by weed.

Warning seems to have been shrouded in a huge amount of secrecy and I have my theories as to why, but I'm hoping you could provide some perspective. We took a break so as not to hate what we do. We really toured the heck out of the last record [Nimrod] for about 238 shows, and we were like, 'OK, it's time to take a real break -- for once.' And instead of writing in the fashion of, 'OK, let's go in and write the next record and pound it out and pound it out' … [for] the last record we wrote about 40-some songs and then let the songs pop out and figure out what the record was from that … [this time] songs stood out on their own and we said, 'OK, this is the album' … Billie waited for inspired moments. And as a band, we practiced when it was working, and we only worked on the songs that already inspired us … instead of forcing it. We had about 14 or 15 songs, and we were like, 'We're totally ready.' And it was pretty obvious at the time which 12 songs were gonna be on the record. There's the dealio. (Laughs) … As far as the secrecy thing, we will sell no wine until its time. [But] go on Napster and check out a couple songs. (Laughs) I know they're there.

What is your point of view on Napster? I think it's gonna work itself out. Everyone keeps sayin', 'What's the deal?' I don't believe their schtick about 'Hey, we started doing this for poor college students and blah-blah-blah.' Well, first of all, if you can afford to go to college, [and if] you can afford a computer that can actually burn a f*ckin' CD and you can afford to pay the online bill, then you're probably not starvin', OK? When I was goin' to junior college, I was worryin' about where my next packet of Top Ramen was comin' from, OK? So, I don't wanna hear that. But do I think [Napster] is all evil? No. There's definitely two sides to it. I make comp tapes at home (granted, they're albums I've purchased). But when I was a kid, I would buy tapes at the flea market. When you're a kid, the only thing you can afford at the flea market is a tape or a pair of sunglasses. I don't think bands should be made to look evil just because they don't wanna be a grasshopper (hence, The Ant and the Grasshopper [fable]). The other side of that is people don't wanna purchase the record (laughs). I'm not gonna dwell on it. It might hurt you if you've only got one hit [on an album]. [But] we definitely have a full package.

How does Warning differ from your past efforts? I think this record definitely has an overtone of independence throughout the whole thing. I think that we've overcome a lot of adversity. We produced this record ourselves and it has a sense of honesty…. There's an overtone of hope to the whole record that says, 'It's up to you to choose to have hope.' And whether or not most people in the world want to admit that they want hope for their world … they do. If you really don't want any hope, well I have friends who didn't want any hope and they killed themselves.

What are some of the adversities that Green Day has managed to overcome? Everybody thinking, 'Here we are today, gone tomorrow.' Friends [thinking], 'They're becoming huge as a band,' and all of the family turmoil, friend turmoil. … I think the adversity is also that this is a Green Day-quality record. Every song on this record is good. And people giving up on rock-and-roll and punk rock ... [We're] being honest with ourselves and remaining who we are and what we are.

And with regards to remaining who you are and what you are, the band caught a lot of sh*t for "Time of Your Life" because.... … it was such a good song. (Laughs) It's funny, because the people who gave us sh*t about that … obviously hadn't heard our first two records [1039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hour and Kerplunk]. Songs like 'Words I Might Have Ate' from Kerplunk and 'Rest' on 39/Smooth [have] touched on -- what can I say? -- our sensitive side. If you reach into your vulnerable side and you bleed on the plate for people, I think that takes a lot more balls than to just go out there a scream your head off and call it punk rock. Punk rock means no limits, no rules and breaking rules -- to us -- and there's a lot of punk rock on this new record. And if you think punk rock is just distorted guitars and hair-dos, you got another thing comin'. You need to listen to "Minority" and "Warning" [both from Warning].

Then can we look forward to songs like "Time of Your Life" and "Words I Might Have Ate" on Warning? No. (Laughs) There's definitely a sense of hope in some of these songs, but it's from a different perspective of where we're at this point in our lives. I'll give you an example: 'Minority.' That's a song about how … my next door neighbor's mom has a nose ring and my other next door neighbor is a jock with green hair. Everybody wants to look different and be different and act different, but ultimately, nowadays, you need to look inside yourself and find your individuality. With 'Minority,' everything has its suit -- its uniform. It's up to you inside to break the mold. With 'Warning,' that's a song about questioning everything. There's this false sense of freedom we have in the United States. There's all these signs tellin' you, 'Don't do this' and 'Don't do that,' and you just gotta read between the lines and figure out, 'What are those things really sayin'? Is it for someone else's convenience that I'm told to not go here, or that I can't do this or that? Or is it because it's really dangerous?'

Green Day traditionally has been trailed by a lot of controversy. What are some of your favorite controversies? It's weird. There are a lot of controversies, but it's a matter of how close to home you take 'em. Obviously, [there's the] whole sell-out thing, and I'm so over that. If selling out is compromising your musical intentions, I don't even know what that means. I guess that's a big one. (Laughs) At one point in my life it was -- now I'm over it. And I think most people are, too. Every time you spend a dollar, you're making that sell-out statement and casting a vote. Like, 'You're gonna slam me for being on a major label, and yet you smoke cigarettes? OK. (Laughs) Your shoe's on backwards, buddy.' Maybe you dug that controversy when Tre [Cool, drummer] climbed the Universal Studios globe after the MTV Video Music Awards. That was my idea. I'm so accident-prone, that I would have fallen off and broke my neck, so Tre did it. (Laughs) I said, 'Why don't you climb that?' and Tre's running up and down and I'm like, 'Good man.' Tre's got balls bigger than that globe, anyway. You gotta let the [music] industry know who's runnin' it -- and that's the artists. What our album is to a lot of people is a product. What our album is to us is our child. And often, when we turn a record over to the record company, when we finish it, it's like handing your child to a nurse after she was born -- all bloody, a purple tail, ready to go. (Laughs)

Have you settled the score on your past "disagreement" with Third Eye Blind? I really don't think anybody can mistake a kiwi for a banana. Third Eye Blind -- that whole thing. I was probably off the hook; I shouldn't have been fighting in the first place [backstage at a festival concert] and whoever hit me [over the head] with a bottle from behind was a f*ckin' coward. I shouldn't have been fightin' and they shouldn't have been fightin', and that's what boys do. To quote Eminem, 'Tomorrow we'll be boys again.' (Laughs)

Since Billie Joe is campaigning for president and you're his vice presidential running mate [and Tre is the ugly wife], what are you gonna do to keep him in line? Oh, he's a lame duck from the get-go. I'll be runnin' sh*t. (Laughs) I'll start out by lowering the price of alcohol and cigarettes, and shortly thereafter, we should take the 'explicit language' stickers off of albums, so f*ck Tipper Gore. I just think kids should be able to buy [the Clash's] London Calling. What kind of crap is that? That was a controversial record that got the explicit lyrics [campaign rolling]. It's the line, 'He who f*cks the nuns/Will later join the church.'

It was extremely magnanimous of Green Day to bring in dominatrix Mistress Simone for Warning's engineer Tone. Are we, then, to believe that the band didn't get spankings all around? Oh, no. I receive my floggings in the privacy of my own home. Under the watchful eye [and sure hand] of my gal. My girlfriend wouldn't have it. [My girlfriend's called] Mistress Sarah.

Where are you guys with the horror film you were planning, and have you signed Gwen Stefani yet? I think we got so involved in the new record that it became more important than anything else. I think we've decided to follow through on our own script that we've been working on, which is a much better script. Except that if I told you any more, I'd have to kill you.

[earthingoddity]

so you know how y’all are constantly like: “what’s there to like about season five???”. i decided to make a list *-*

1. the discussion of disability in a teenage show. how many teenage shows can you name featuring disabled characters? and how many of those feature a character becoming disabled in the course of the show and having to adapt to that? i was very surprised when i realized this was the route they were going to take this season and i think it was very well done.

so let’s break that down:

1.1 they actually made sure to talk about other disabilities. i know some people will say they were just doing the bare minimum, but i disagree. that is such a complex theme, they could’ve easily said representing other disabilities respectfully would be a lot of work for only ten episodes, but they did their best with the limited amount of time they had.

1.2 the representation of the deaf community wasn’t limited to their disability. it actually pisses me off hearing people say “wow, for a while there, i even forgot arthur was deaf!” as if he *has* to let you know everytime he’s on screen. disabled people are more than their disabilities, thank you very much.

1.3 overall, it was a positive representation. they could’ve spent so much time going through all the things that would be too hard for arthur, but they actually had an entire episode where arthur was completely deaf - he took his hearing aids off - and it was a very happy and positive episode. he was having fun, clubbing, dancing, laughing with others, and i think we took a lot of that for granted in the midst of everything that was going on, but that was a really positive representation that didn’t limit itself to stereotypes around deaf/disabled people. i actually expected that they’d drag a lot longer the feeling of loneliness and discomfort of the first couple of episodes, but they quickly changed that rhythm, so that instead of focusing on what arthur was “losing”, they focused on everything that arthur was gaining - new friends, a new love interest and a new way to see the world. also, in relation to the whole implants thing, they delivered very in depth opposite perspectives on the matter and never felt like they were shaming one group or the other.

2. SyMbOLisM! skam france is very good at it and they nailed this aspect in season three. but there was a lot of it in season five as well. like the 7am clips in episode 2, that were used to show the lack of progression in arthur’s hearing and his growing frustration and how those clips were incredibly dark, to match his mood. episode 7 also had such an interesting meaning. with arthur taking the chance to explore the world without his hearing aids, he got to explore a whole *new* world, and not a lacking one, which ties very well with what i just said about being a positive rep, but also shows that the entire episode wasn’t about arthur finding a new layer of himself, but rather him just uncovering one that was already there.

3. use of music/sound effects. it can be hard to represent deafness in a media like a tv show, but skam france did it so well. the use of music is always very conscious in this remake; while others really go hard in the soundtrack, skam france hardly ever has background music, unless it means something. another small thing but that i loved was whenever arthur was taking off/putting on his hearing aids, if he was to put the left one first for example, the sound on the left side of your headphone would start first. it was such a small thing but made the experience a lot more immersive imo, as well as the use of muffled sounds, pitching, etc.

4. Arthur. i am always surprised whenever i hear people say that they liked arthur better when they were not in his pov. i completely disagree, but then again, i feel like this fandom has very unhealthy expectations on their mains, as if they haven’t watched already 4 seasons of the main making mistakes over and over again, lol. i loved getting to know more of arthur - he’s loyal AF and protective of the people he loves. he struggles in letting people in, though, and never wants to be a burden or worry others. he’s perceptive and quick to notice when his friends need help. he is also short-tempered and when he gets mad, it is explosive, but he doesn’t hold grudges for long. he was a much more complexed character than i imagined and he totally made this season for me.

5. le gang. this boysquad is the best, sorry. they’ve always been the funniest and warmest, but it was really nice how s5 explored all the sides of that relationship, including the not so pretty ones. they were the relationship i wanted the most angst from, and i am so happy i got it. i loved seeing how chaotic, but supportive they were of arthur though and they brought so many laughs this season.

5.1 the lack of toxic masculinity. i think this ties well with arthur, because it is amazing to me that even though we were following a straight white boy as a main this season, we had no moments of unhealthy masculine competition; le gang could actually talk about other things rather than just porn stars and jerking off (other boysquads Wish!); and arthur would literally flirt with anyone without a care in the world, because he’s certain of his sexuality like that. it was *refreshing* for once not to be confronted with these tropes that have become so common in teenage shows.

7. alexia. i have to talk about alexia separately here, because that’s the most we’ve ever seen from a chris character (not counting eskam cris, ofc), and i loved her so much. she wants to be a videogame designer and she’s creative and adorable. she always knew how to make arthur laugh, but also knew when he needed words of affirmation and she was never shy in telling him how much she loved him. it was also amazing seeing her open up about some of her insecurities, and that her confidence is something she had to work on as well. she was such a great friend & girlfriend and just ugh the best.

7.1 the female characters are badass and unapologetic. i am aware that the love triangle was unnecessary and a mess. but i am not mad about the way both characters were represented, because they were both great characters. i liked alexia more simply because i was already attached to her from previous seasons, but noée was badass as well and teaches arthur so much, and not only about her experience as a deaf person, but about life/love in general.

8. arthur’s relationship with his mom. we LOVE and STAN parents in the skamverse. arthur and his mom had the best relationship ever; i loved how they truly became a team by the end of the season. but since the moment she showed up, it meant so much that arthur could have at least one supportive and loving parent, no matter how much he screwed up or felt lost. his mom was really trying her best and i adored her.

9. *actual* adult advice. i understand why all the adults in the skamverse are a bit cringey and weird, but i feel like this results in these characters relying on each other’s poor advice throughout an entire season before they realize what they actually should do. and the talk with the school’s nurse and his doctor by the end of the season was meaningful AF and i wish something the remakes would explore more often, because it could resolve so many of their issues just talking to someone who knows better, lol.

10. the relationships with the girlsquad. i know this is actually very intentional of skam france - to build a specific kind of dynamic between the main and all the side characters. we saw that in season 3, and i think it’s a lot more evident here, but it still made a lot of sense and warmed my heart so much. arthur and imane were the purest - she was the first one to notice that something was wrong with him and also reached out to give him advice on how medical school could still be a possibility even with his disability when she absolutely didn’t have to, but she’s just a sweetheart like that. arthur and daphné had a lot more tension, which is understandable, because both are protective of their own best friends (bas and alexia) and would defend them to the ends of the earth. i think they honestly have a lot more in common than they think. but my favorite dynamic was arthur and emma. i totally did not expect for emma to have such a part in this season, but every single one of their interactions was Gold. emma could see a lot of herself in arthur and i think that’s why she was so quick to notice that he wasn’t interested in becoming a surgeon at all. that scene when she says it would’ve been nice to have arthur as a brother was the sweetest thing Ever.

11. i’ll finish with the acting. y’all, the guy who plays arthur literally CARRIED this season and i hope his back is doing fine. he was So powerful - he made me cry, and laugh, and feel frustrated. he delivered every single emotion perfectly. i also think that the fact these actors are friends irl (i assume? lol but i think i’ve seen them in each other’s personal IG stories) really helps their chemistry on camera. le gang feels like a group of brothers/best friends and they were always so natural and effortless in their interactions. the new actors also Rocked and delivered so much emotion even if they were using a completely different language and it was awesome.

(also, this just literally applies to *me*, a lucas lallemant HOE, but it was so nice seeing lucas up close from a different perspective. the fact we could still see so many layers of him: his emotional self, his bratty self, his supportive self, even a touch on his abandonment issues and everything made me so happy. i think sometimes i forget the lucas character was real and not something i made up because he feels too good to be true, and it was really interesting seeing him from arthur’s POV).

i’m not here defending the mistakes they made in s5, i don’t think it’s a perfect season either, but tbh i have yet to find what i consider to be a perfect season in the skamverse, so here’s just some things i liked about this season that i feel like y’all should take into consideration as well. thx

[moeyy-writes]

Here and Now - Part 1

Zak Bagans x Reader

Warnings: hints at family issues, mild fluff.

Word Count: 1,822

A/N: Great, what have I gotten myself into? This started as a random idea that was in no way planned. I didn’t even think it would be something worth posting. Now, it’s becoming a series that I’m praying I’ll be able to update regularly. I don’t really know where it’s going yet. I guess we’ll find out together. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!

My Master List || Also on AO3 || Series Master List

“Yes Mom.” You sighed. “No, I won’t be. I’ll be filming that week.” Another sigh. “No, I’m not going to be looking for another job.” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head back over the back of your folding chair. “Mom, this is what I want to do—Okay. Love you too.”

You tossed your phone over onto the table in front of you and sighed. You loved your parents, but they didn’t quite understand when you told them you were leaving your cozy job as a nurse to hunt ghosts. Your mom blamed your long-time friend, Jay Wasley, for “luring” you into the field. Every time you talked to her, she begged you to rejoin the medical field, but there was nothing that could convince you to do anything else than be a part of the Ghost Adventures team.

You loved joining the guys on investigations, being the main audio-visual tech for the last year. That allowed Billy and Jay to be more involved in the investigations, which was especially helpful when investigating the larger sites.

Not to mention, you were working with some of the nicest people you had ever met.

You never second guessed the career change. When the guys asked you to be a part of the team, you jumped on it without even giving it another thought. Jay and you had both taken film classes in college, but you changed majors after your family urged you to find something “more career friendly”. He knew you loved working with different types of cameras and had a very keen eye for the slightest hints of evidence on the screen. And the other men on the team couldn’t agree more.

As you let out a long sigh, you heard footsteps to your left. You glanced over to a tall, spiky-haired figure illuminated by the sun behind.

“Hey Zak,” you greeted the leader of your team. He lowered himself down into the chair beside you and smiled. His sunglasses were sliding down his nose, and the wide brim of his hat shielded your eyes slightly from the sun.

“Hey, what was all of that about?” he questioned, nodding towards your phone. You just shrugged and huffed out a frustrated breath.

“It’s just my mom. You know, same shit, different day. She’s constantly questioning my ‘career choice’ and telling me that I don’t know what I’m doing.” You closed your eyes. “She only sees a job for the money.”

Zak nodded. “Yeah, well some people see that. Some people do something because they know the pay check is going to be awesome, and the title is going to make them look good to everyone else.” You laughed.

“Yeah, well, the pay check isn’t too shabby for you, is it?” you both laughed and turned to the building in front of you. It was another location, and the interviews were going to start shortly. You decided to make a small station to set up and charge cameras between interviews, and keep a few pieces of equipment handy for any impromptu investigating.

You glanced away, trying to ignore the intense set of butterflies in your stomach whenever Zak was near you. Sure, you had met him several times before you became part of the team. Hell, he was one of the people who fought for your spot on the show. But, you didn’t know a whole lot about the man at your side. Jay had filled you in on the basics of his life, but that was about it. Sure, he was goofy, nerdy, and a little bit full of himself. But, he was also a kind and friendly guy, something you weren’t really expecting.

He had welcomed you with open arms, as they all did. He made sure that you always felt included when you wanted to be and checked in with you whenever there was an emotionally heavy case. You wouldn’t tell anyone in the media, but he was secretly the caretaker of the group.

So, it was no wonder he was sitting beside you after hearing your phone call. He could sense when something was off about a crew member. It was definitely something unique about Zak Bagans.

“Do you ever second guess being here? Leaving the nursing field?” You shook your head adamantly.

“Not for a second. I became a nurse because my dad is a doctor and pressured me into joining the same field. I liked it, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted to help people in another way.” You peered over at Jay, who was fiddling with Aaron’s camera. “Thanks to Jay, I’m here doing just that.”

“Well, we all agreed for you to join. To be honest, it’s been really nice having a different perspective on everything. You always find the best positions for the static-vision and x-cameras, and always find logical reasons for our equipment malfunctions. You have a gift, Y/N.” You could feel your cheeks redden at Zak’s words. You ran your fingers through your hair.

“Thanks, Zak. That means a lot.” Your gaze flicked back to your phone for a moment. “I know my parents love me and want what’s best for me. I just wish that they knew I’m at the age where I can find that out for myself.” Zak nodded, loosely crossing his legs.

“They do love you. There are plenty of people who love you, Y/N. And we’re all here for you.” You leaned back a little, raising a brow.

“Plenty of people? Like who?” Your heart fluttered, secretly wondering if he was implying something more behind his words. Could he be? No, not Zak. That wasn’t like him.

Zak smirked. “Well, I freaking hope you know by now that the crew loves you. Jay’s known you for what, at least a decade? More? Aaron and you have that never-ending prank war thing that I swear is going to be the death of one of you. From the second time you met, I knew you were pretty much platonic soulmates. And watching you and Billy geek out over equipment together makes me smile. Nerds.”

You nodded, practically beaming. Zak always knew what to say and when to say it, at least most of the time.

“And I think you’re a great addition to the team. You’re smart, fun to be around. It’s like you’ve been with us since the beginning.” You didn’t know what else to do but smile. Where the hell was all of this coming from? Sure, Zak was usually sweet and uplifting, but this was a lot coming from him. He was rarely this intense.

“That means a lot, Zak. I’m really glad to be working with everyone. I really do love you all too.” You and Zak stared at each other for a moment before he spoke again.

“You know, you’re really a special person, Y/N. Your parents know that, the team knows that, And I definitely know that.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, then cleared his throat. Was he nervous? Zak Bagans, nervous? Huh.

“Uh, thanks Zak. Really.” He was kind of repeating himself, like he was trying to hint at something he was too afraid to say. You had never heard him talk like this before. He was always super straightforward and blunt, never talking in code or hiding meaning behind his words.

“And, I was wondering if you were, um, interested in hanging out more outside of here? You know, outside of the show?” You furrowed your brow.

“We do hang out. I mean, we all meet for lunch or dinner, and meet at each other’s houses—”

“I know, but I meant you and me. You know, just the two of us.” Your brow shot up as your stomach swirled.

“Um, are you asking me out Mr. Bagans?” No fucking way. He couldn’t be. There’s no way Zak Bagans would be asking you out.

“Yep. Yeah, I am.” Oh, you stood corrected.

“Well, I, uh, yeah. That sounds awesome.” You studied his confident smirk.

Zak nodded to himself. “Awesome,” he repeated. “Let’s focus on this lockdown, then we’ll work out the details. But, I know of a great place I want to bring you to.” He reached over and gently placed his hand on top of yours.

You flipped your hand over and wrapped it around his. “I can’t wait.” And that was the God-honest truth. Your whole life flipped in the best possible way over the last several minutes, and your head was reeling as you tried to accept your new reality.

You were dating, or about to date, Zak Bagans.

“Hey, Zak, we’re almost ready to go!” Jay called over. Zak perked his head up.

“I’ll be right there!” He squeezed your hand, then pulled away. As he stood, he offered his award-winning smile, then made it over to his friends.

You really needed to get your camera ready, but you couldn’t move. Your brain was still struggling to process. Not only was this whole thing something you never dreamed of, it completely came out of left field. Zak was a natural flirt, but you didn’t think he flirted with you more than any other woman he met. He was respectful, avoiding any type of sexual jokes, and making sure he called out the others if anything made you noticeably uncomfortable. That was half the reason your brain was still currently malfunctioning.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, shocking you from your thoughts. You unlocked your phone and opened your messages.

New Message: Jay Wasleyyyy

You studied the message, which was a simple thumbs up emoji. You glanced up at your buddy, who shared your gaze, standing beside a grinning Aaron. Great. Sure, Jay knew about how you felt towards Zak. It was hard to keep it a secret sometimes, especially from someone who had known you as long as Jay did. He obviously knew that Zak was up to something too. Sneaky bastard.

But, now Aaron wasn’t going to leave you alone about it. Joy. All you needed was your goofy friend poking at you as singing ridiculous songs about love and shit.

Another message pinged, forcing you to glanced back down at your phone.

New Message: Zak Attack

It was another wordless message, with a black heart and a winking face emoji. Totally Zak’s dorky yet oddly suave style.

You stared at the message, suddenly giddy with excitement. Now that your brain had come back down to Earth, you were nothing but excited about what was to come. You had no idea what Zak had up his sleeve, or how the two of you were going to do in a romantic relationship, but there was an odd exhilaration in not knowing.

With a long exhale, you silenced your phone and slipped it into your pocket. Then, you lifted your camera from the table in front of you and headed off to join your team.

Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated! <3

[whocalledhimannux]

now that I’ve had some time to reflect on Return of the Thief, I have some more thoughts that are... slightly more critical, in both the thinking-deeply and not-entirely-praiseworthy ways. I’m not going to tag this post because I don’t want to harsh anyone’s buzz, but I’ll just say return of the thief spoilers and rott spoilers right now, and hopefully the blacklist will catch those, and if not the rest of the post is going under a cut

okay so like first off, I want to say that I still think this was a very well-written book and it’s very satisfying from a character standpoint. there are so many great interactions, indications of growth, etc, and the layered writing of the first person POV is, as always, stunning. my main character complaint is not enough Costis and Kamet (or Costis/Kamet)--but even that, upon reflection, I think is colored slightly by my anticipation for a blatant Comet moment. When you’re waiting for a big payoff, and the story isn’t designed to have that, it’ll feel like a bit of a letdown. But from a different perspective, the ending of TaT can be a perfectly satisfying narrative ending, establishing that Costis and Kamet’s storylines are now thoroughly and primarily wrapped up in each other; their contributions to the wider plot from thereon out are mostly incidental, because sailing off to be together is their bigger ending.

side note: a character development I actually loved was us seeing Eugenides teetering dangerously close to a breaking point and being pulled back. I think...... from what I have seen of the fandom in general--bearing in mind I was never a part of Sounis and have dipped in and out of the discord without being majorly involved--based on my general impression of the tumblr fandom, I think there is a tendency among QT fans to let the Thief characterization of Gen affect our reading of him in later books. I think there’s sort of an assumption that he’s everybody’s favorite and that his choices are, by default, correct and sympathetic, even as the series progresses and he makes more, increasingly difficult and sometimes pragmatic or even cruel decisions. and I think RotT really, really challenges that kind of view. Eugenides is under immense strain in this book, and several times he lashes out in ways that are indefensible. Sometimes, even if he’s not being cruel to others, he’s being risky to the point of masochism, and the revelations about his backstory also suggest that quirky innocent Gen of The Thief is also not all he seemed to be.

and I think that was resolved in a very enjoyable and narratively satisfying way. The threats to the Braels had a real edge to them. God!Eugenides was terrifying, in a noticeable step up from the ways regular!Eugenides is terrifying, and it felt like payoff for the increasing role of the gods in Eugenides’s storyline up until now. And I really appreciated the subtleties of Sejanus saying that he won’t tell Eugenides the conspirators because it will damage him in the longrun, and the way Eugenides ultimately decides to forgive and trust Pheris and Sejanus anyway--those scenes, imo, were great followups to the scenes in QoA, KoA, and ACoK that discussed how rulers can maintain their moral center in difficult situations.

but... the Medes. plot-wise, I’m struggling with the conclusion to this storyline.

I made a different post already about What the Fuck is going on with the secretary of the archives, because it totally feels like shit is missing there, and to some extent I’m okay with that? it felt to me like a stylistic choice--like, Pheris the historian is writing specifically about the Mede invasion, so maybe the full story of Baron Orutus, and Relius, wasn’t actually resolved til years later and he thought it was an overlapping but ultimately separate story. fine. I actually did kind of like the parts where that was done more blatantly, like his comment that two of the queen’s attendants became famous later on for unrelated reasons. it helped with the framing of the story.

but I don’t feel that way about the Medes plot. For one thing, we’ve spent a couple of books now harping on the fact that Ghusnavidas (sp? I’m tired and my book is too far away to check, y’all know who I mean) is dying and that the primary threat is going to come from Nahuseresh’s brother, Naheelid. Costis made a point of saying last book that if the Little Peninsula could hold out for a year against Naheelid, not only would they win but the entire empire might be in danger of collapsing.

So... they spent ~a few months fighting a single army at a single battle site, with the Big Threat Guy not even present, and that’s it? everybody goes home and the Medes aren’t a threat anymore? it’s not even clear to me how many troops the Medes lost--their principal losses were in the form of Bu-seneth, Nahuseresh, and Baron Erondites, who, yeah, were key officers, but if the Medes lost, saying, 30% of their troops or less, what’s to stop Naheelid from hiring more soldiers and better officers and coming back in a year? it totally makes sense to me that an army that saw Eugenides call down lightning is willing to pack it up early, but inevitably that’s going to be dismissed as rumor and distortion so idk how it’s supposed to be a lasting deterrent. it may not be super realistic, because the downfall of empires takes time, but I think a bunch of us were expecting that the Mede Empire would, at the very least, but conclusively beaten by the end of the book, and I don’t think we got that.

Also, speaking of Big Bads: Nahuseresh. Oof.

I know part of the point of TaT was that Nahuseresh’s situation was becoming kind of sad and pathetic but... I think he went downhill too quickly in this book. and tbh I think part of it is the fact that we’re getting this from Pheris’s POV, and Pheris for one doesn’t have a whole lot of close contact with Nahuseresh in this book, and for another didn’t have any contact with him prior to this. His little “I will be king of Attolia!” outburst honestly made me cringe a little bit, and while I’m not entirely opposed to the idea of Nahuseresh being killed by an anonymous soldier--it has a very “reality ensues, war isn’t a series of epic meaningful confrontations” feel to it--I do object to the fact that Eugenides spent a significant amount of time in KoA and ACoK nursing a grudge against Nahuseresh and then barely got to do anything with it. and a lot of what he did get to do, the reader barely sees.

I think there were ways to make Nahuseresh’s actions in this novel a bit more satisfying without fundamentally changing them. for example, bringing in more commentary from people who knew him before. if there was a passage where Eugenides looked at Nahuseresh and realized that his beard was raggedy, and he looked thinner, and there was a manic light in his eye and he just seemed pretty pathetic and honestly more comical than the villain Gen’s been building up in his head for years--I think that would go a long way towards establishing tone. it would feel more like the anticlimax is intentional and be more about Eugenides’s own character growth, whereas now it just feel like... Pheris doesn’t have a whole lot of personal stake in this conflict even though the reader has been waiting for it for so long.

(although I do find it interesting on a narrative level in contrast with Sejanus, who seems disproportionately important in this book imo--from my perspective, the threat of Nahuseresh has been a constant behind-the-scenes presence for the last four books and Sejanus stopped being important after KoA. and I get why the opposite would be true for Pheris, but I still... want more.)

anyway, I just feel like the villains in this book are a little--warped, somehow. like the huge enormous threat of the series up until this point actually isn’t all that bad and can be wrapped up in relatively little time. it’s a weird sensation for me wherein I’m glad where everyone ended up and I enjoyed the experience of getting to that end, but like... it just feels a little off. slightly anticlimactic. I mean, for a lot of us this series is All About the characters and from that perspective I’m mostly satisfied, but I feel like in previous books the plot has come together SO well that my expectations were really high, and this resolution didn’t really meet them.

and damn does it feel strange to be writing this. feels like I just cobbled together a few of my hottest and most controversial takes and like I need to throw in about twenty more disclaimers about how much I love the books overall, but I’ll resist.

[meta-squash]

Brick Club 1.8.3 “Javert Satisfied”

I know this is technically a “good thing” since otherwise Valjean’s testimony would be for nought, but everyone except the prosecuting attorney agrees that Valjean is the real Valjean. I guess some part of me would expect for everyone to still think that Madeleine had gone crazy, or to somehow still be affected by the respect and veneration for Madeleine as mayor. But that’s not the case, and pretty much everyone believes that Madeleine really is Valjean.

Quick note that the lawyers also try to pull in all sorts of nitpicky bullshit to try and get Champmathieu indicted anyway, which courts still do today.

“This sentence, containing a great many ‘of’s, is the prosecuting attorney’s, written by his own hand, on the minutes of his report to the attorney general.” Maybe I’m wrong, but I feel like the comment on all the “of’s” goes hand in hand with the earlier critique of the provincial language of the courts.

“...although the judge was a kind man and quite intelligent, he was at the same time a strong, almost zealous royalist, and had been shocked when the mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer, in speaking of the landing at Cannes, had said “the Emperor” instead of “Buonaparte.” A supposedly impartial person whose impartiality is a requirement for him to do his job well, actually be affected by his personal opinions and biases. I mean, that hasn’t changed in 150 years, that’s for sure. *cough Amy Coney Barrett cough* But it’s such a tiny little thing. Would the order of arrest be granted so quickly if the judge hadn’t caught that little honorific slip-up? It’s also just an example of the kind of knife-edge that things like someone’s life sits upon when in the hands of the courts. This is probably not the first case where a tiny, unrelated detail like that weighted the balance between life and death or freedom and prison for someone in this court.

Okay I don’t know anything about couriers and letter-sending and doing things quickly. If this is an official letter sent by courier, would that be one person riding horseback, without a carriage? Surely that would be faster than a horse pulling a vehicle? Especially since the deliberation went on for a little while after Valjean left the courthouse, and then the judge went in with the prosecutor, and then the letter was written and sent, but it got to Javert in M-sur-M soon enough that Valjean only had time to send his letter to Lafitte and briefly see Fantine. I’m just trying to figure out the timing of all of this.

“The buckle of his leather collar, instead of being at the back of his neck, was under his left ear. This denoted extraordinary agitation...For his collar buckle to be awry, he must have just had one of those shocks that could be called inner earthquakes.” I know the descriptions of Javert a few paragraphs later as being overjoyed means that this “agitation” is most likely shocked excitement, but I don’t know, something about this description is so weird to me. It’s the “inner earthquake” line, I think. That feels a lot more “negative” than excitement. Javert’s entire world has been shaken by this information. Perhaps it’s because this is so big. Really, it gets treated with such flippancy within the narrative, but a respected, well-known, charitable member of society in a mayoral position ends up being a wanted convict, and Javert was not only right about it, but right about it twice. That’s big for Javert himself, but it’s also big in general because it’s probably the first time Javert has ever uncovered something like this and been right about it and then told he was wrong and then proven right again. Plus the fact that he was hiding his convict identity the whole time while being a high-ranking, well-loved, leader of the community. Like, a “criminal” government official isn’t just corrupt in the usual way, he was fully a convict the whole time with a hidden identity and everything. It must be mind-blowing for him. And it’s interesting, Valjean is the only one who’s able to deliver multiple earthquake-status blows to Javert’s world throughout the book. (Valvert shippers, I’m starting to understand your perspective a lot more in this read-through than my last two.)

“...Javert turned the knob, pushed the door open as gently as a nurse or a police spy...” What an odd comparison to make. Nurse or police spy? Those are two incredibly disparate professions with totally disparate morals. Nurse implies a calm gentleness, a gentleness that is maybe nurturing or healing or at least positive in some sense. Police spy implies a much more cautious gentleness, one whose purpose is sneaky and definitely not positive towards those behind the door. How is Javert both a nurse and a spy? Unless he’s Harold Shipman, I’m not sure what to make of the connection to the nursing profession.

“Properly speaking, he did not enter. He remained standing in the half-open doorway, his hat on his head, his left hand in his overcoat, which was buttoned to his chin. In the bend of his elbow could be seen the leaden head of his enormous cane, which disappeared behind him.” Okay So this paragraph in context with the chapters before and after it are really interesting. He doesn’t enter the room at first, just stands in the doorway. He only enters the room after both Fantine and Valjean have noticed him. I’m sure there’s a good horror movie example out there, but it’s like he’s not allowed to enter until he’s noticed. Like he’s not allowed to exist for others until they see him. Does that even make sense?

“There is no human feeling that can ever be so appalling as joy. It was the face of the devil who has just regained his victim.” Man, I like the Hapgood translation of that second sentence so much better: “It was the visage of a demon who has just found his damned soul.” Like, it’s not Javert who has singularly persecuted Valjean (I mean it is, but not really), Valjean isn’t Javert’s victim. Valjean is persecuted by society, Javert is just there to collect someone already marked. He’s not the only one doing the marking. So I like the symbolism of a demon collecting a damned soul.

“Javert’s satisfaction radiated from his commanding attitude. The deformity of triumph spread across his narrow forehead. It was the full quotient of horror that only a gratified face can display.” I love this chapter for its bizarre contrast of ugliness and grandeur. Everything Javert does in this chapter is this gross, twisted version of divine justice. His joy, which should be a beautiful and pure emotion, is perverted by its circumstance. And the description of how scary a satisfied face can be is so good because it’s so viscerally descriptive. You see that exact face on every video of a cop being a racist, condescending, sanctimonious, power-hungry cunt to people on the street. That face of “I’m better than you and I have power over you and there’s nothing you can do about it so ha ha I win.” It’s more evil than antagonists who know they’re evil because Javert fully thinks that his actions and thoughts are right. And Hugo points it out here. Triumph and glee for the wrong reasons doesn’t make a person beautiful, it deforms them.

I actually love the description of how joyful Javert is because it’s clear that this is personal for him. When he arrested Fantine and sat down at his desk to write out her sentence as a one man judge-jury-executioner, he wasn’t gleeful like this. He wasn’t sad about it, he just was. He was doing a duty and Hugo even says that he was very thoughtful about it and spent time cataloguing what he saw in order to decide what to do. This isn’t the same type of detached judgement and condemnation. This is fully personal glee at being able to be vindicated.

“At that moment Javert was in heaven. Without a clear notion of his own feelings, yet with a confused intuition of his need and his success, he, Javert, personified justice, light, and truth, in their celestial function as destroyers of evil. He was surrounded and supported by infinite depths of authority, reason, precedent, legal conscience, the vengeance of the law, all the stars in the firmament; he protected order, he hurled forth the thunder of the law, he avenged society, he lent aid to the absolute; he stood erect in a halo of glory; there was in his victory a trace of defiance and combat; standing haughty and resplendent, he displayed in full glory the superhuman beastiality of a ferocious archangel; the fearful shadow of the deed he was accomplishing, making visible in his clenched fist the uncertain flashes of the social sword; happy and indignant, he had gnashed his heel on crime, vice, rebellion, perdition, and hell, he was radiant, exterminating, smiling; there was an incontestable grandeur in this monstrous St. Michael.”

I have multiple things to say about this passage so I think I’m going to break it all down into different paragraphs because there’s A Lot of different things in my brain.

First of all this is an echo--this time righteous and vindicated--of Javert’s feelings from 1.5.13. Madeleine lets Fantine go and Javert has this thought: “Or, in view of the enormities he had witnessed over the last two hours, was he saying to himself that he had to resort to extreme measures, that the lesser had to make itself greater, for the detective to turn into a magistrates, the policeman become a judge, and that in this shocking turnabout, order, law, morality, government, society itself, were personified in him, Javert?” In 1.5.13, Madeleine’s authority overruled him, protected Fantine and humiliated Javert. In 1.5.13, he is forced to accept defeat. Now, he has all of the authority, all of law and reason and justice behind him because Madeleine no longer has that same power. Javert is again the personification of justice, law, society itself, but there is not Divine Authority to stand up for Valjean as there was for Fantine. Javert is vindicated here for his earlier humiliation, with all levels authority backing him up this time.

“Without a clear notion of his own feelings, yet with a confused intuition of his need and his success, he, Javert, personified justice, light, and truth, in their celestial function as destroyers of evil.” Okay hold on wait. In 1.5.13, Javert has a moment of nearly breaking the fourth wall, nearly deciding that he needs to become a Symbol in order to restore the balance of authority and justice that he feels Madeleine has knocked askew. He is very much aware of his potential to personify Law and Justice etc. But here Hugo says that he does all of this with “confused intuition” and without a clear idea of how he feels. Interesting that when he is conscious of being able to become a symbol, he is prevented from doing so, but when he actually becomes a symbol, he’s unaware of it. Also, here’s another moment of Javert clearly Feeling Something but not fully understanding it, again a thing that only Valjean seems to provoke in him. (Oop more Valvert fodder.)

I don’t really know what to make of the superiority complex that Hugo describes here. Obviously Javert thinks that he is righteous and that he is doing a Great And Grand thing and that he is avenging society by ridding it of the scourge of the evil deceiver convict Jean Valjean. But the way Javert’s righteousness is describes feels like almost more of a “nanny-nanny-boo-boo” feeling. Is your righteousness truly righteous if you’re feeling personal satisfaction and personal superiority about it?

Javert is literally the Angel Of Death here! I know in my last post I talked about Javert as the grim reaper entering the room. His comparison to St Michael confirms this. Michael is a seraph, which are winged celestial beings with a fiery passion for doing God's good work (which is interesting to me considering how much Valjean’s symbolism is associated with fire). In Roman Catholicism Michael is the Angel Of Death who descends and gives the person the chance to redeem themselves before dying. He is also the one who will weigh people’s merits on Judgement Day. Except! Javert is Michael without mercy or patience! He judges without allowing a chance for redemption. We saw this in 1.5.13 when he sat down and wrote out Fantine’s sentence while she simultaneously explained her situation and begged for mercy. We see it now. Javert as St Michael is “monstrous,” he is the St Michael that defeated Satan, not the healing protector Michael. We even have the sword imagery. Michael used the sword to best Satan in battle; except this time the sword is “social” and to Javert at this moment, Valjean is the personification of Crime-As-Satan.

(Side note: something I love about Javert is that he as a human being isn’t really portrayed as an avidly religious person, at least not in the ways that Valjean or the bishop are portrayed as religious people. But his symbolism sure is religious. I think that’s one of the drastic differences between book Javert and stage Javert. Stage Javert is portrayed as a religious person but his symbolism is more human.)

“Probity, sincerity, candor, conviction, the idea of duty, are things that, when in error, can turn hideous, but--even though hideous--remain great: their majesty, peculiar to the human conscience, persists in horror. They are virtues with a single vice--error.” Hugo’s thought about duty done in error is so interesting. He says something similar when talking about Problem of the monastery: “To mistake a grave error for a duty has a grandeur of its own.” For Hugo, the fact of having such strong conviction alone is a grand thing. Having conviction, having a sense of duty is always a good thing--the error is not in the sense of duty itself but in what that allegiance might be to. The virtues of duty or honesty or conviction are by themselves inherently good, but they can be misused and misinterpreted and made wrong.

(Side note: This is actually a really interesting thought re: Grantaire! Hugo holds not just having beliefs but having faith in and conviction about your beliefs in such high regard. Which makes Grantaire, who is conviction-less and faithless, in the midst of all these people who are so loyal and committed to their beliefs and ideals, not a mild contrast but a massive one.)

“Without suspecting it, Javert, in his dreadful happiness, was pitiful, like every ignorant man in triumph. Nothing could be more poignant and terrible than this face, which revealed what might be called the evil of good.” God I love this line. “The evil of good” is a concept that really, really, really needs to be common usage. I feel like this line specifically really needs some in depth analysis but also I don’t really know what to say about it except that it’s just so true. Regarding Javert being “pitiful” in his happiness, this kind of reminds me of Mme Victurnien? Both think they’re doing a “good thing” and their deeds ruin lives; their triumph and feelings of righteousness are pitiful for this reason. Again, it’s the equivalent of a “ha ha I win” bully moment, but with much worse consequences. Man, I feel like this chunk needs more analysis than this but I don’t know what to give it.

[theres-a-goldensky]

32 Reddie Fic Recs

In honor of the joy I feel in finally getting out of this miserably terrible fucking year of my life, I thought I’d do something fun and make up a list of Reddie fic recs, since this has fandom has taken over my life recently. Strap in, friends. This is gonna be a long one.

These recs are in the order in which I read them. 

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part two - Reddie

Good Omens fic

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All fics are Reddie, all are complete.

** - denotes personal favorite

1. first love / late spring by vowelinthug - ~36,000 words, explicit - They both survive It, but not without some injuries, both physical and psychological. Richie takes Eddie to a secluded cabin to help him recover. And then they accidentally make a podcast. Nice slowburn, a good Richie characterization. I liked the conversations between the two of them, in particular one about Richie’s disdain for shoes that was pitch perfect.

The doctor’s evil eye is on both of them now. “Your friend is gonna be fine. Broken collarbone and a lot of blood loss, but the arm stays on, for now anyway.” Probably at the way Richie sags in relief so hard he groans in pain, the doctor stops looking so severe. “He’s a tough guy. I’ve never seen anyone regain consciousness from that much blood loss just to give me a full medical history.”

“Oh my god,” says Richie, covering his mouth. “I like him so much.”

Bill pats his shoulder in sympathy.

2. the fireworks that go off when you smile by zach_stone - ~10,000 words, teen - Post-movie the adult Losers, including Stan, go on a vacation together. There’s just lots of Richie staring at a wet, shirtless Eddie and pining.

Richie blinks at him, his stomach doing a fucking somersault, pinned under Eddie’s weirdly passionate stare. He swallows another mouthful of beer to stall for time, shifting his gaze away. Spread out before him, the lake looks like flat, black glass. “Jeez, is the risk analyst really telling me to ignore the risks? What’s the world coming to?” he manages to joke.

He expects Eddie to roll his eyes, to huff and lean away again, but he doesn’t. He says, still earnest, “I just think some things are worth the risk.”

And Richie doesn’t know  what  the fuck to do with that. He resolutely tells himself not to puke on Ben and Beverly’s porch, because he thinks if he did it would just be the words  I love Eddie Kaspbrak a hundred times over, all puddled on the slats of wood. He stands up rather abruptly. “I should go to bed,” he says, aware that he’s talking too loud, being too fucking obvious. “I’m jetlagged as fuck. Also maybe a little drunk.”

3. oh, i want the truth to be known by ShowMeAHero - ~7000 words, explicit - Richie sees Eddie die in the deadlights and then manages to save him at the last second, but It skewers him instead. I’m honestly not sure why there isn’t more fic with this premise, because Richie sacrificing his own safety for Eddie and then Eddie losing his shit is absolutely, 100% my jam.

The claw isn’t in Eddie’s chest. Instead, it’s in Richie’s, caught in his side, pinning him to the ground. He chokes on a scream, caught in his throat, and pushes at Eddie, just trying to get them away. He rolls into him, ripping Pennywise’s claw through his side to get away, but once he’s free, he’s scrambling into a half-stumble and dragging Eddie with him until they’re hidden under an outcropping of rock. His side is bleeding, he can feel it, and his entire fucking abdomen hurts, and, for a moment, it’s all he can process.

“Holy shit, Richie,” Eddie exclaims. The pain shuffles to the back of Richie’s mind so he can focus on Eddie instead. He sounds winded, but he’s fucking alive, unhurt and breathing and okay, and Richie huffs a laugh. He’s in so much fucking pain, but he can’t even figure out where it’s all originating from, and the only thought cycling through his brain is it’s okay, he’s okay, Eddie’s okay, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, over and over.

4. we'll be a fine line (we'll be alright)  by buckyjerkbarnes - ~9,000 words, teen - Richie and the other Losers in the hospital after killing It, waiting for news on Eddie. Richie has a bit of a breakdown.

The ambulance ride had been the longest twenty minutes of Richie’s life. He'd tried not to get in the way of the EMTs who worked frantically to keep Eddie alive; who were far more patient with him than Richie likely deserved. By the time they'd rolled up to the emergency entrance at the hospital, Ben stamping his breaks as the rest of the Losers came to a grinding halt not fifteen yards away, Richie was still a sobbing mess. He couldn't see through the cracked lens of his glasses, and when Eddie, who had not opened his eyes or said a word since they were still in the sewers, was about to be wheeled out of sight, Richie made like a battering ram and lunged towards the pair of swinging doors.

“Sir!" An orderly yelped. "You can’t—!"

And Stan, who had materialized at Richie's elbow, told the orderly: "He's the husband."

5. ** It’s Hard to Tell Sometimes by gallopingmelancholia - ~21,000 words, explicit - Eddie divorces his wife and moves to LA to live with Richie. Richie promptly has like five emotional meltdowns over it. So much pining. So much. This is one of very few that has Eddie in the hospital for a realistic amount of time, which I appreciate. When writers have been hoping out of bed after a day or whatever, it really throws me out of the story.

“When can we see him?” Mike asks.

“He’s asleep, but we’ll send in a nurse when he wakes up. I wouldn’t expect it until tomorrow morning at the earliest. He’s been through quite a lot, eleven hours of surgery, and is on a lot of pain medication.”

“Will he survive? What’s the percentage? He’ll want to know the probability, he’s a risk analyst,” Richie says.

The doctor hesitates. “The chances he makes it through the night are 65%.”

“That’s not bad!” Richie says even as his heart drops to somewhere in the region of his feet. The others look at him pitifully. “Tell him we’re here and we love him. Tell him the Losers are here and we’ll see him soon.”

6. ** it’s a nice day to start again by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~6000 words, teen - Post-movie, Eddie wakes up one morning to discover that Richie and a woman had a shotgun wedding in Vegas the night before. Great, sad-but-trying-not-to-show-it Eddie here. (And yes, Richie is a total disaster gay who marries a woman on a whim.)

 “Are you sitting down?”

 “I didn’t even get out of bed yet! Bev please just tell me what the fuck is happening.”

 “Sorry, I’m sorry. Just- Richie got married.”

 “What? No he didn’t,” Eddie scoffs, throwing the covers off. “I’m not - he’s not even dating anybody, I see him all the time. It’s probably just a big joke or something, that’s-”

 “He got married, in Vegas. It’s all over Twitter, and he- he sent pictures to the group chat last night. She’s some other comedian. None of us have ever met her, he didn’t invite any of us.”

7. Oh, But He Makes You Laugh by MellytheHun - ~9,000 words, mature - Teenage Eddie has to deal with some serious jealousy when a new friend enters their group. This one has a good, slow realization on Eddie’s part.

The boy is in their grade, though not part of their social sphere; he’s nearly as tall as Richie, with light eyes, and walnut colored hair. Eddie recognizes him from his AP bio class, but can’t inwardly recall his name.

The boy nods toward Stanley while keeping eye-contact with Richie, and informs him, “alligators - they can grow up to twenty feet.”

Richie opens his mouth to argue with the new kid, but he’s cut off.

“Which is weird, cause they usually only grow four.”

Eddie watches in abject bewilderment as a hearty, genuine laugh  is startled out of Richie.

8. Richie Tozier: Pray Away the Gay by QueerOnTilMorning - ~4,500 words, teen - The official transcript of Richie Tozier’s comeback Netflix special. A lot of writers try to do Richie’s stand-up routine, but not many can nail it. This one feels realistic and contains actual, like, jokes and stuff.

Because I grew up in this little town called Derry, Maine--nope, absolutely not, do not cheer for that. Fuck Derry! I had this friend, for years he thought I was lactose intolerant, because he'd mention dairy and I'd be like "fuck Derry! Derry tried to fucking kill me!" No, I can eat cheese, I just hate my hometown. They did not fuck with the gays, in Derry. That's probably why I dress so shitty. It's a survival thing. I was already super into dudes. If I had developed fashion sense on top of that? No. Oh my God. It was so--I was so fucking scared all the time.

 And like, to put this in perspective, has anyone ever heard of Henry Bowers? Any true crime fans in the house? Henry Bowers, the baby serial killer? Yeah, you listened to that podcast! My friend Bill was on that podcast, doesn't he have a sexy voice? Anyway, Henry Bowers, also known very creatively as The Derry Killer, murdered a bunch of kids the summer we were thirteen. I say we, because that dude was in my fucking class. There was an active serial killer in Derry during my childhood and still, still my greatest fear was that someone would find out I was gay.

9. RICHIE TOZIER IS...THE COMEBACK CLOWN by owlinaminor & tinypersonhotel - ~11,500, teen - An excellent multimedia fic about Richie’s life with Eddie post-movie.

While Richie Tozier never stops talking, Eddie Kaspbrak never stops moving. Listening to a conversation between the two men is akin to watching a pinball machine with two balls going at once, slamming into each other and the walls and the levers and each other, lighting up their surroundings in a trance as mesmerizing as it is chaotic. (Kaspbrack laughed when I told him this metaphor—apparently Tozier spent many an afternoon at the town arcade when they were kids.)

Over the course of one twenty-minute walk with their dog, a beagle named Stanley, through their L.A. neighborhood, they manage to call off their engagement, call it back on, invite me, uninvite me, call the engagement off again, debate eloping, call the whole thing back on but disinvite everyone except me, and finally agree on what color napkins to have at the reception.

10. ** The Jenga Dream Date by stitchy - ~15,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie domestic fluff that starts at Ben and Bev’s wedding. It feels so sweet, and you can just see the happiness radiating off the screen. This is truly the ending they deserve.

Then a seriously, unbearably cute thought occurs to Richie. A thought he can’t immediately share with Eddie, because Bill and Mike each independently cornered him and made him swear not to steal Bev and Ben’s thunder.

Ah, fuck it.

“I can’t think why we would possibly be in another situation in the near future where there’s dancing but also my mother is there for some reason, but holy shit, Eds! I have got to see you dance with Mom. During this very special situation. For which I will make hand calligraphed invitations and hire a photographer and-”

Eddie’s eyes dart in either direction before he lets out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. “Uhhh, I  also have no idea when or why that would happen, or what sort of event that would be appropriate for.”

11. Bad Parts In by 50artists - ~9,000 words, not rated - It’s Richie that ends up in the hospital after it all goes down, and Eddie who has the crisis. And also some serious misapprehensions.

"I feel like Richie might be  slightly  weirded out," Eddie says dryly. "Like oh, hey, we've not spoken for decades and you're the straightest man I know, but it turns out I have been subconsciously in love with you since we were teenagers. I dunno, might make things a bit awkward."

"I'm sorry," says Beverly, "just to clarify, Richie Tozier is the straightest man you know?"

"Dude, have you seen his comedy? It's all, 'I love fucking chicks while drinking beer and watching football'."

"You mean the material that Richie doesn't write himself?'

12. ** We Found Love in a Chili’s ToGo by Amuly - ~14,000, explicit - Richie confesses his feelings to Eddie in the airport before they both headed back to their own lives. This is such a lovely story about friendship and love and putting yourself back together. And there’s some A+++ phone sex.

“Nah, Eds. It’s because I had a big gay crush and needed Stan to bitch at about it.”

Eddie frowned, then shook his head. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t bitch at me about it.”

“Well bitching about your secret crush to your secret crush is generally frowned upon, Eds. Kinda fucks up the ‘secret’ part.”

Eddie, bless his tiny heart, didn’t get it for a second. His expression scrunched up, about to say something stupid back to Richie, when his brain processed Richie’s words. In a second his expression fell open, jaw actually agape.

“Oh look: drinks!” Richie grabbed his marg, licking and drinking without even letting the waitress set it down onto the tabletop. Eddie barely had the courtesy left to let her set his down before he was grabbing at it.

13. ** Ask Me About My New Material by twoseas - ~7,000 words, explicit - I could read 10,000 stories about a confused and horny Eddie jerking it to Richie’s stand up without understanding why before they meet again in Derry. This one has a great Richie, who reacts like he got hit in the face with a bat when the truth comes out.

In the restaurant, as the gong resounded around them, Eddie looked up at a four-eyed, messy, middle aged Trashmouth and suddenly it all clicked.

 He had two thoughts.

Oh, he realized, it’s because I’m in love with the dumbass.

And, Aw fuck.

14. No Parenthesis by pineapplecrushface - 13,000 words, explicit - In the deadlights, Stan gives Richie some instructions on how to bring him back. Spoilers: it involves an orgy. And Richie and Eddie dealing with their feelings.

“Okay,” Mike said, holding his hands out to placate him, and honestly Richie was really fucking sick of Mike saying crazy shit and then somehow—somehow!—convincing them to do it anyway. “I’m not saying we have to do it. I’m just saying, the ritual exists and we could do it, and now that it’s out there, I feel like you should all have the choice.”

“Great. I choose no. I’m fucking leaving before I get ritualed into giving all my money to a cult leader and I end up spending the rest of my sad short life on an alpaca farm,” Richie said, standing up too fast and stalking across the room.

“Richie,” Bev said, and she sounded, unbelievably, like she was not thinking this was completely insane.

“Are you fucking serious?” He whirled around to look at them. They were all giving him varying levels of Richie, be reasonable, which was a look he was familiar with, but not when it came to sex rituals, for some fucking reason.

15. ** Stupid Deep series by anonymous - ~50,000 words, explicit - Richie has a huge dick, and Eddie is obsessed with it. Come for the super, super hot sex, stay for the sweet romance, twist of angst and happy ending.

It’s been five months since then, and Eddie has spent at least 40% of that time thinking about Richie’s big fucking dick. He spends about 20% working from home, 20% arguing with Richie about dumb shit, and the remaining 30% sleeping—this adds up to 110%, but that’s because there’s overlap between the sleeping and the thinking about Richie’s huge dick in the form of extremely graphic dreams.

He thinks about Richie’s dick in the shower. He thinks about Richie’s dick when they’re watching TV together. He thinks about Richie’s dick when he’s trying to eat breakfast. He hasn’t even seen it hard. But god, he thinks about it. Thinks about it hot and thick in his hand, thinks about it twitching as Eddie strokes it, thinks about it stretching his lips, thinks about it leaking precum all over Eddie’s fingers and tongue and stomach. And, most importantly—most vividly—he thinks about Richie’s dick inside of him, filling him up, fucking him.

At the same time, Eddie also spent a good amount of time, woven through the rest of his daily activities, falling so deeply in love with his best-friend-cum-roommate that it was disturbing at best. There was pining. There were lingering glances. There was lying on Richie’s bed while he was out just to ease the ache in his chest with Richie’s warm, familiar scent, which is disgusting and Eddie hates to think about it. There were, in Eddie’s darkest moments, daydreams about Richie holding his hand and kissing him and telling Eddie he’s in love with him. Like a fucking sap.

16. I’m quite alright hiding today by remusjohn - ~7,000 words, explicit - Eddie kisses Richie out of the deadlights, but Richie doesn’t know if that means anything.

On the first night they don’t do much of anything. They unpack (well, Eddie unpacks his massive bags while Richie tries to figure out how to sign in to his Netflix account on the tiny TV in the living room), and they order in, and they argue over what to watch while they’re eating, and Eddie falls asleep some hours later with his head tucked into Richie’s shoulder, and Richie tries not to think too much of it.

There’s been a lot of that, the last couple of days. Richie doesn’t know how to say, You kissed me to wake me up from the deadlights and I don’t know if you did it to save my life or if there’s something else too, but it’s kind of killing me, man.

So Richie doesn’t say anything at all.

17. Haunt Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me by Vulcanodon - ~20,000 words, explicit - AU where Eddie and Richie are ghost hunters who get stuck in a very trippy haunted house. This concept really shouldn’t work, and I’m not big on AUs in the fandom, but the relationship between the two of them really sells it. And, obviously, the pining. There’s so much.

The only time Eddie has ever witnessed Richie freaking out was when they had been fucking about in the woods near Montana for their werewolf episode. Eddie had been walking backwards, trying to get Richie and a creepy footprint in frame when he had suddenly felt nothing but air behind him. He had fallen for an impressively long time down the hill, blacking out briefly when a branch caught his head and when he came to Richie had been leaning over him, white and frantic, hands all fisted up in Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie, Eddie, Eds, Richie had said, nearly crying. Are you alright, can you talk?

Is my camera broken? Eddie had managed woozily to say, and for a moment Eddie had thought Richie might do something crazy like slap him or even kiss him.

He hadn’t done either in the end and Eddie remembers the disappointment, even with the haze of a mild concussion.

18. Five Times The Losers Gave Richie Permission by toomuchrootbeer -  ~11,000 words, mature - Each loser tries to let Richie know that they know in their own special way.  

“No I don’t mind,” Stan says evenly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t mind any of it.”

“Cool,” Richie chirps, grabbing his backpack off of the grass and pushing himself to his feet. “Pip pip Edward,” he calls. “Shall we endeavor to find you a cleaner wardrobe?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says back, but there is no venom behind his words.

But then Stan is reaching out, gripping Richie’s arm, “Dude what are you-”

“I don’t mind any of it, Tozier,” he repeats, voice lower and his words somehow more weighty, fixing Richie with an indecipherable look. “And I don’t think any of the other Losers would mind it either. If you wanted to,” he jerks his head in the direction of Eddie, “you know.”

19. String Theory by neverfaraway - ~17,000 words, mature - Richie starts slowly regaining his memories and has a disturbing experience in the deadlights.

The thing is, Richie knows this is a version of himself and Eddie that never existed. He can taste the pretence on the tip of his tongue, but the sticky air seems to sharpen and solidify around him. He can’t remember where he was before this moment, watching his fingers alight on the buckle of Eddie’s hundred-dollar belt.

The Voice wavers and Richie comes pouring through the cracks. It's painful to watch the careful way he places his hands on Eddie’s skin. "Fuck, I missed you," he says. "Even when I couldn't remember, I had a hole right through me, straight through the middle. You left a fucking entry and exit wound."

"Damnit, Richie," Eddie mutters, blinking rapidly. "Beep, beep."

20. hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~25,000 words, mature - Things don’t magically work out after Derry for Eddie. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he goes back to Myra and his depressig life. But at least now he has his friends. He has Richie.

With his memories back now, with all the knowledge of his mother and his placebos and his fake inhaler and his friends, it feels like Eddie has been living the last 27 years in sickly, yellow sepia tones. His memories and even the brief time he spent with everyone at the Chinese restaurant shine in his mind in vivid technicolor, and everything else pales in comparison.

He thought he would die, and now he doesn’t have a plan. His life in New York is miserable and cramped and leaves him feeling small, so he puts it off as long as he can.

The drive isn’t long, even with Eddie taking his time. He takes a detour just to drive along the coast and see the ocean, and stops at any given exit or National Forest along the way that strikes his fancy. He’s still home before nightfall.

21. After Derry series by pineapplecrushface - ~47,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie are both pining and miserable disasters post-movie. Until they finally get their shit together and figure some things out.

He woke when Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and touched his back, under his disgusting shirt. “Hey,” he said. “Your turn. I mean, your turn after I wash my hand again. What did you lie down in?”

“Your mom,” he said, sitting up and glaring at Eddie, who was half-naked, a towel wrapped around his waist. “How do you all look so good and I ended up looking like fucking Christopher Lloyd? Like, not young Christopher Lloyd. Present day.”

Eddie’s hand was still tucked under his shirt, rubbing a path across his lower back. “I guess you did grow into your looks.”

“Oh, fuck you, you weirdly muscular little shitweasel,” Richie said, escaping to the shower so he didn’t have to look at the slope of Eddie’s arms. He was weak for that, the line of a man’s shoulders and back. He was weak for all of Eddie, really. After everything he had seen, he guessed it was something he could admit to himself. There was no panic left in it.

22. for better, for worse by kaspbrak_kid - ~26,000 words, not rated - Eddie has just gotten through a messy divorce and is trying to deal with the fact that he’s been in love with Richie for 30 years, and then he has to go to Ben and Bev’s wedding. Not a great combination of things.

Eddie blows out a shaky breath and puts down his phone, then picks it back up again, restless. He scrolls up through his and Richie’s texts.

They’re not that frequent. They talk in the group chat, mostly. Eddie thinks about texting him all the time, several times a day, and then never does. It’s all just stupid shit, anyway. A dream he had or a movie he saw on TV that he remembers Richie used to like, and does he still like it? Some things his therapist tells him he should say, like that he’s been in love with Richie for somewhere between six months and thirty-odd years.

Instead, most of their private texts are just inane bickering, or Richie trying out jokes on him, or Eddie telling Richie how to clean the cut he just accidentally gave himself opening a can. He could have just googled it. But he asked Eddie.

23. feet on the ground, head in the sky by peggyolson - ~21,000 words, teen - I’m kind of a sucker for the slowburn, falling in love over distance trope. This one does it well, with bonus Richie dealing with his issues and figuring shit out.

Mostly, though, it’s just a slight tug at the back of his mind, another part of his day. A mumbled  let me call Eddie, like an afterthought, while he’s tapping his foot in line at Whole Foods.

Eddie always, always answers.

“Edward Kaspbrak,” he chirps during business hours, dry and glib, and Richie will respond in a deep, exaggerated baritone with something awful like  Mr. Kaspbrak, your test results are in and unfortunately you  will  keep shrinking at an alarming rate for the rest of your life, something barely funny that he says just to get a reaction.

(It had been  such  a mistake to give Richie his work number.)

24. it’s about time that you just unwind by fuckener - ~9,500 words, explicit - Eddie finds out that Richie is gay via his stand-up and promptly loses his mind.

“Yeah? Mine was weird, guys, I’m not going to lie. I came up with this really good idea on how to cause total chaos at a family event, you wanna hear it?” There it was - glasses adjustment, not even past the one minute mark. “If you really want to shake up another dull as fuck Thanksgiving with your parents, just wait ‘til you’re in your forties and your elderly father is spooning out his first helping of mashed potatoes for the night and then drop the bomb that you’ve been gay the whole time. Boom, happy Thanksgiving. Pass the sweet corn, I want to fuck the huge green dude on the can.” People laughed. Richie did that thing with his face between a smile and a scowl. “It’s the long game, yeah, but -”

Eddie slammed his laptop shut.

25. feel this burning, love of mine by floatingonthelehigh - 17,000 words, mature - The clown is a bastard. Richie gets a second chance.

“Don’t leave,” Eddie says quietly, and god  fucking  damn it, it breaks him that Eddie thinks he ever would.

“No,  fuck no, Eddie. I’m not going to.” He adjusts his grip on the jacket against Eddie’s stomach, winces when Eddie gasps in pain. Richie’s lip shakes again as he just keeps talking. “Frankly I’m insulted that you’d think I’d leave you, after just remembering you're my best fucking friend in the world, after twenty seven fucking years. My clown-murdering partner in crime! How could I ever leave you? Fuck no, I’m not leaving you, Eds. Idiot,” He laughs emptily, rubbing Eddie’s cheek, and pauses, beginning to nod to himself as a goal flits into his mind. “I’m going to pick you up, I’m going to get you out of here, to a hospital. Right now. And—” Eddie’s grip on his arm tightens, and he stops.

26. hey there demons (it's me, ya boi) by dharmainitiative - 12,000 words, teen - Is this another ghosthunters AU? Why, yes it is. I don’t know why there are two of these, but I enjoyed them both. This one is much lighter, and I really liked the way that the writer creates a very lived-in feeling as soon as you jump into this universe.

 As it was, BuzzFeed wasn’t a bad place to work, despite all the shit Richie gave it. He was paid well, there were always a bunch of cushy chairs everywhere, and the food that got brought in for lunch everyday was way better than the shitty grilled cheeses he ate at home for dinner. And despite what Richie expected, his coworkers were actually pretty cool, all things considered. Sure, they were all millenials who thought landing an internship at BuzzFeed was the height of success, but most of them were friendly, and occasionally funny, and like Richie, just excited to get paid to do something that required little to no effort.

 Most of them, at least. There was also Eddie Kaspbrak.

 Richie met Eddie his first day at BuzzFeed, when he was shown his desk and the incessantly chatty intern that sat at the desk right next to him. Working side by side — literally — let Richie learn a lot of things about Eddie Kaspbrak: he was a neurotic hypochondriac, exclusively owned Polo shirts, and talked faster than Richie could even blink.

27. New Page, Same Old Book by Rend_Herring - 17,000 words, explicit - Post-movie, Eddie divorces his wife, moves across the country and makes himself comfortable in Richie’s home. Richie is totally fine and not freaking out at all.

He clips the wall coming into the foyer, practically crashes over the little table he uses to stack mail—fumbles around with the chain, the deadbolt, before finally wrenching open the door.  It doesn’t occur to him until he’s sending it bouncing back against the doorstop, that it might have been a good idea to check the peephole and make sure it actually  wasn’t  some asshole out for a smash and grab in the middle of the night, or worse — a  fan.  

Richie would be less dumbfounded by either option.

He squints at the person standing in front of him, blinks.

“I’ve had this dream before,” Richie says, voice still croaky from sleep, “usually you’re wearing less clothes.”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie sighs, and rolls his eyes when Richie jumps back a bit, genuinely startled that it’s  not some manufacturing of his sordid imagination.  “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”

28. Drives Me Wild by rustywrites - ~4,000 words, explicit - Eddie and Richie have hotel sex after RIchie wins himself an Emmy.

"I thought I told you no more jokes about how much you love my dick," Eddie says, shifting to straddle Richie's waist in earnest, rolling his hips downward just to emphasize his point, no doubt. His hands are braced on both of Richie's shoulders, pinning him back with his bodyweight, while Richie's hands are on his waist, holding him in place. It's not the most comfortable position, all things considered--Richie's knees are bent over the end of the mattress, his feet still on the floor, and they're both still in their fucking monkey suits.

Richie had tried to make the case with his agent and his manager that he should be allowed to attend the Emmys in the same clothes he always wore (jeans, a shitty t-shirt, a semi-fashionable jacket, you know, the works.) They were good enough for his specials, one of which had earned him the nomination to begin with, but both Anna and Johnathan had pushed back hard, and when Eddie had not-so-subtly sided with them, well. Suit and tie it was.

29. Rewrite by sachi_sama - ~13,000 words, mature - Stan is dead, but somehow only Eddie can see him as they race to beat It. That’s...probably not a good sign. (note: Stan stays dead in this fic.)

“Whoa. Hey, Eds, you being a weepy drunk over there?” Richie asks, and he scoots over into Stan's seemingly empty chair, and Stan vanishes as Richie's hand is suddenly on Eddie's shoulder.

“I just—I saw...” Eddie pauses, and he wipes his hands over his eyes, sniffling. When's the last time he cried? It makes his head hurt every time. “Fuck. I'm sorry, guys.” He stands abruptly. “I'm gonna go splash some water on my face.” He hurriedly exits the room and he hears Mike asking what he saw, but Eddie is already power-walking across the restaurant to the bathroom, aware Dead Stan is hot on his heels.

“Lucky. The bathroom is empty,” Stan says as he leans against the wall. Eddie looks at him, really looks, and he sees the blood on Stan's wrists.

30. ** we are all going forward, none of us are going back series by theappliepielifestyle - ~21,000 words, teen - Richie gets stuck in a time loop and forced to repeat their last stand at Neibolt over and over until he gets it right.

Richie hears himself finish saying Let’s kill this clown  and it’s only when he finishes forming the  n  that reality sets in. What the  fuck -

He whirls around. Everyone’s standing around him, just like they were last night - they’re in front of the fucking house, it’s standing again.

“What the fuck,” Richie croaks. “No, come on - what’s going on? Ohhhh fuck.”

He only lets himself stare at it for a few seconds of unbridled hate before he keeps looking at the others, who are now staring at him, pausing from where they’d all taken a step towards the house before looking back and stopping to watch Richie’s nervous breakdown.

31. ** keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theapplepielifestyle - 16,000 words, teen - Eddie dies, sort of, and meets Stan in the afterlife. The two of them realize that they can communicate with their friends in their dreams. Eddie has to watch Richie slowly breakdown in his absence.

32. ** happily ever afters all the way around series by theapplepielifestyle - ~35,000 words, teen - I have so much appreciation for this author’s desire to fix the ending by any means necessary. In this one, that good old turtle lends a hand and sends Richie back in time to fix everything. It’s...a lot.

Then it smooths out into an actual scene, if jumpy: a sigil on wooden boards that look a lot like the floor of Richie’s apartment. The sigil is probably drawn in blood, but it could also be red paint. Although Richie’s being  very  optimistic about that. Anyway, the dream is mostly that: the sigil being drawn, slow and precise, by Richie. It’s dark in the dream, and the sigil being drawn is overcut with more fleeting images, chased with sounds: Stan’s bloody hand dangling out of a bath. Stan as a kid, on the tail end of saying something as he walks home in the evening. Eddie with blank eyed, slumped in IT’s lair. Eddie as a kid, in mid-argument in the clubhouse. A voice so deep and impossible that it hurts, a voice that reminds him of the turtle’s gaze:  come back come back you can change the -

At the end of the dream, the scene will stabilize. Dream-Richie will say some shit he can't make out. Then he'll say the one thing he can make out, which is: I’m coming.

And then he’ll wake up.

LINK TO REDDIE FIC REC LIST PART TWO 

[nileqt87]

Despair For Castiel: A Review

From a series of posts before and after watching:

Before:

As far as I'm concerned, I'm now imagining the Empty having to deal with Gabriel and Balthazar redecorating the Empty into the angel/demon afterlife (probably with a lot of wacky alternate realities and bad porno) with all the free will angels and redemptive demons invited, Cas finding Meg and eventually Jack again for his true happy ending that he can have and Crowley probably trying to install himself as king again. Then when Rowena finally exits as Queen of Hell, she'll join and Crowley will annoyed, but Gabriel will be happy to see her again. LOL.

Megstielers also got robbed hard with all that setup of Cas still pining for Meg for YEARS, the Empty using her image (not Dean!) to taunt him (the Empty clearly saw Meg in Cas' head when it could have taken the form of anyone, including Cas like last time) and a whole dropped plot thread that Cas made a deal with Ruby to break a demon out of the Empty, which only makes sense with the one and only demon he'd actually want to let out of the Empty. That's dangling one 'ship a whole bunch of carrots (like every single Clarence reference for a decade) to rip the rug out from under them.

I suppose I should've seen it coming when the previously on segment for 15x13 was a Pizza Man and the Babysitter retrospective that shoved Cas out of the Pizza Man role beside Babysitter Nurse Meg to shove Dean into Megstiel's sexy times meme. I guess it turned Cas into just Dean's Baby in a Trench Coat (which was an insult about being useless to Dean's cause without powers, which suggests Cas has no worth to him otherwise), since he got infantilized with the removal of the Pizza Man originally being him.

I still haven't watched the episode. The Tumblr crap is that off-putting.

What should've been an epic moment in Cas' story is now tainted by his love of humanity, found family and free will (his real love story is with all of humanity and finding belonging, in spite of always being on the outside looking in on a life he can't have because he's not human) being reduced to horny girls who just want fetish smut with Dean and don't give a fig about canon Cas outside of a toxic, abusive crack!ship. It's always so immature and vapid!

It was immediately clear when I joined the fandom that shockingly few gave a crap about any character but Dean, even refusing to see what he's become in later seasons. Also numerous examples where they admit having not seen the show in a decade or only knowing the show via manipulative .gif sets. Cas and Sam (if they remember him at all) are just props or prizes to be won. They ignore context of familial/platonic relationships. Canon love interests aren't good enough because they're not the big prize of being a main. I also note the deluge of Wincest girls who hate Cas for existing (he's in their way) in the anti-Destiel tag.

I can't say the .gifs are making me want to watch, even though the dialog is vague enough to still fit Cas' actual character for the general audience who isn't glued to social media.

As for Dean's non-reaction, I had similar problems with Jensen's constipated acting back in 15x03 when Cas finally walked away while Dean looked like he couldn't care less, which the writers coincidentally praised Jensen for (holy crap that interview was up his backside) and completely ignored Misha actually giving a good performance in a scene that actually meant something long coming for Cas. I certainly can't say the same about the quality of this scene, which just looks forced on both ends.

I hope I like the episode more than the sounds of it, but my hopes aren't high. This is not how I wanted Cas' final moments on the show to be.

After:

Well, I got up the stomach to watch it tonight. Thankfully, in context, it definitely got blown way out of proportion by what the Hellers turned it into (as usual). Yeah, even when watching while unfortunately not blind to the wackadoodle fandom discourse, it played out better on screen than the .gifs. And frankly, a whole lot less like creepy Care Bear stare nightmare fuel than the few choice screenshots kept showing (yikes). I still wish Sam and Jack had been there, because they're just as much part of what connected Cas to feeling like part of a family (even more so in the later years), but it's not the total monstrosity it was turned into online.

Average viewers who just take canon as is without trying to read into it what they want to be there instead, IMO, will safely interpret it platonically (even if coming after a particularly hellish few years in Dean's personality rot where the whole friendship was beginning to be questionable) more often than not because that's what the canon has said for a dozen years. Again, I repeat that Cas already told the Winchesters he loved them when he thought he was dying.

It's a crime to have Cas' perfect philia (brotherly), storge (parental) and agape-style (sacrificial and unconditional) loves being immaturely twisted into eros in a way that degrades the whole meaning of the character's journey. People telling each other they love one another when it's not sexual should never be mocked into being afraid to do so because of this insidious, willful misinterpretation. If only somebody had told Cas they love him instead of him always being the one with his heart on his sleeve!

This character went from being tortured into a robotic, emotionless, ancient, not-remotely-humanoid being who couldn't relate to the simplest of human needs to being someone deeply in love with humanity and wanting to find belonging amongst it despite knowing it would always end with him watching them all grow old and die after having families and such experiences angels are forbidden from having (another reason why Jack was so important to Cas' story).

The wording is valid for that philia/agape interpretation, given Cas definitely equated Dean (whom Cas watched sacrificing himself for Sam endlessly, including why he had to be raised from perdition in the first place) with a guide role in his learning to understand humanity and proudly-defiant free will before he could love it. It's valid enough to say that Cas wouldn't have broken his programming permanently without being challenged to question everything he'd ever believed and give up his entire angelic belonging. That much of it did begin with Cas just happening to be the angel who succeeded in the Hell rescue.

Obviously, it's also canon that Cas had a long history of not following orders and getting lobotomized by Naomi, but Cas actually understanding humanity and what free will means did happen only after this particular rebellion. I'm very glad at least that was in the speech, but of course, it's being hopelessly ignored.

I stand by my interpretation that what Cas can't have has always been the tragic version of The Little Mermaid where she turns into sea foam in the end. Cas has always looked in on what everyone else takes for granted from the outsider's perspective. There's a part of him that will always be left out, no matter how well he learns to fit in and how much those around him begin to treat him as a real person. Cas never really got to truly belong with humanity, no matter how much he loves and is loved by it. He's also not getting to stay where he wants to be. There's no Pinocchio ending for Cas that turns him into a real Winchester.

Sadly, Dean's constant othering of him and Jack like they're just more monsters to hunt only alienated them more. Jack was someone Cas could relate to as a supernatural being capable of human emotions, which might also have furthered his draw towards Meg. Sam was also someone Cas could relate to as freaks and abominations amongst their own kinds. Sam always had that same struggle, also with his own family. It goes a long way towards explaining why Sam was always so empathetic to Cas and Jack in a way that Dean couldn't be. All three kept conflicting with that black & white humans = good/other = bad mindset that sometimes creeps in with Dean. When Cas was Dean's "best friend" in the early days, he rationalized it by thinking of Cas as being "like" a human ("You used to be human, or at least like one.").

Yet it still remains true that Cas often found himself looking to Dean to teach him about humanity back when he didn't know enough about it to be inconspicuous amongst them. Dean gave him the crash course in both what humanity is willing to do for each other, but also its flaws and failings at the same time.

Perhaps the saddest scenes in the episode were actually Sam watching everyone poof in front of him. Sam has really been forced to watch a lot of death scenes this season all by himself (as with Rowena), but he looked the most broken by Eileen's. Cas is going to be hard on him, because I genuinely think Sam was far closer to him in the end. Sam was the one who actually was trying to reach out to Cas when Dean repeatedly kept him out of the loop. Sam being left out from the final words with Cas or even hearing first-hand about the deal with the Empty just furthers that tragedy. While Dean has been raging at everything in sight, Sam and Cas have both looked broken, sad and tired all season.

[unto-the-breach]

✨Inferno & Bucky✨

Pre-Relationship-

4.) Who felt romantic feelings first?

General-

3.) What was their first kiss like?

Love-

2.) What are their primary love languages?

Domestic Life-

7.) How do they celebrate holidays?

bet alright let’s gooooooo

gonna throw this under a read more bcos it won’t make sense to literally anyone but jor, Inferno is my marvel OC who’s shipped with Bucky Barnes! 

there’s sort of two answers to these questions, the Back Then and the Now answers. For context, Inferno has sort of got two “lives,” one that she lived as Quinn Watson, an army nurse in World War 2, and afterwards she became a science experiment and got all fiery. She’s been pretty much in hiding since, until Captain America and Bucky Barnes start running around again, and she figures if they can show off, so can she. I know you said Inferno but I’m going to mostly answer these from the Back Then (pre-Inferno and pre-Bucky-falling-off-a-cliff) perspective because that’s the part of the relationship I have mapped out the best! Also, just in case you were wondering, yes I am answering these to further put off finishing her biography. It’s all I have left to do for her form and it’s like a third done, but. I don’t wanna. 

PRE-RELATIONSHIP- 

4) Who felt romantic feelings first? 

This is sort of a toss-up. Bucky was sort of immediately attracted to Quinn and the powerful vibes she was throwing out, but it took a little while before it became more than a passing interest for him. Quinn thought he was pretty from the moment she met him, but didn’t give him much of a chance, because she assumed he’d be like many of the other Male Officers she’d come across so far. She’d spent some time in a field hospital before being assigned to the 107th, and hadn’t received the respect she deserved from many of the male officers--even though she technically out-ranked them. However, she changed her tune when the two of them were the only ones in reach of another soldier who was wounded, and she began barking orders at him and he took every one of them swiftly and efficiently. This caused her to start seeing him in a different light, and her fondness of him only grew. She was much nicer to him then, and he began to realize he was more than just passively interested in her. So, romantic feelings, probably Quinn, but not for long. 

GENERAL- 

3) What was their first kiss like? 

God I actually have SO MANY thoughts about this one!! 

They have a lot of moments where they come close, pressed tightly against each other in a foxhole he’d pulled her into when an enemy opened fire, leaning over him to put pressure on a wound that would be fine, but she wanted to be safe, quiet whispers when they were scared they might not make it through the night, but their first kiss doesn’t actually come until a little ways into their story. 

It was late one night, and Quinn certainly should have been trying to sleep, but Barnes had volunteered for the first watch of the night. That day, they’d taken some quasi-victory--it was something small, but in their situation, you learn to celebrate the little things. Many of them had been drinking, sitting around a fire and telling stories, breathing in the smoky air and thinking of home, and these two weren’t exempt from that. Neither of them were drunk (most of what they’d drank had worn off by this point in the night) but if you asked them the next day, they’d say they were. 

Quinn went out to find him at his post, not exactly sure what or why she was doing what she was, all she knew is she wanted to see him (even though she’d spent the earlier half of the night glued to his side, nearly in his lap as they all shook with laughter). She’d sat down next to him, and he’d smiled, and they’d talked a little bit (neither of them remember later what on earth they talked about), and she’d leaned in, and so had he, and suddenly they were kissing, and it was everything. 

“We can’t,” she’d said. 

“Right, right,” he’d agreed. 

And they’d done it again. 

And again. 

LOVE- 

2) What are their primary love languages? 

I think that Quinn/Inferno, having grown up really during the Great Depression, has a big thing for receiving gifts. She never quite got out of the mentality of being so, incredibly poor for a large part of her childhood, that receiving gifts means so much to her. A lot of her childhood, her family and her neighbors would exchange goods for services (her neighbor gave her homemade jam for babysitting her kids, her father repaired a rocking chair for someone who gave them a bolt of fabric to make clothes from in return) and gifts simply for the sake of being gifts were somewhat foreign to her, but nevertheless incredibly appreciated. Giving her a gift now won’t produce quite the teary eyed response it might have when she was fifteen, but it still strikes her so deeply, and feels like such a great act of love. It’s not necessarily her primary love language, but it is one that strikes her straight to her core. 

I think they both have quite the thing for physical touch, and that when they were in the war together, just being able to feel the other person’s warmth and know they were alive went a long way. Probably a primary one for both of them, this is something that has really stuck for the both of them I think. Moving into the 21st century, positive physical touch is something Bucky has been deprived of for so long I think it would scare him a little bit, but especially when they finally admit that they both still love each other, I think just being there and holding each other would be big for them both. 

Real talk, Bucky has been deprived of love period for a long time, and I think it probably really messed up how he expresses and receives it. I think back in the war, Bucky seems very much like a words of affirmation kind of guy? Looking into his backstory, he was a big time over-achiever as a kid, and was apparently a 3-time YMCA boxing champion, and that all screams “loves being told that you’re proud of him” kind of guy. 

I’d actually love to hear your thoughts on this in regards to a current Bucky, because I don’t know how I think his current relationship with Words and generally what he went through might change that. Would that only get stronger after he’s used to the closest to praise he gets is being told his mission was successful? Would that make him crave honest affirmation and love even more? Or would it mess with his relationship with that sort of thing and make him really reject it? I’m sort of leaning towards the former, but I’m not sure. What do you think? 

DOMESTIC LIFE- 

7) How do they celebrate holidays? 

Oho boy. So, after that last question, I think some proper fluff is in order. So we’re actually going to skip into their timeline a little bit. 

Think of this as a few years down the road, when they’ve settled into a relationship and are living together. And we’re gonna talk Christmas, because, well. It’s christmas. These two were children in the 20s and 30s, and I think a lot of what they do for christmas is stuff that reminds them of back then, back in simpler times. Their first christmas living together, they watch three different versions of A Christmas Carol (because it was SUPER popular in the 20s!) in the week leading up to the holiday, and they debate whether they could get away with putting real candles on the tree (”I’m always here for fire” “you could put it out if something happened right?” “ah, it doesn’t work like that. I can only make the fire” They use LED lights). Bucky makes an incredible eggnog--he doesn’t quite remember the ingredients and proportions, but he tries using a recipe and then totally veers off the path and it comes out incredible. Quinn/Inferno is generally a really great cook, and she intends to cook Christmas dinner by herself (as was typical of her day) but Bucky wants to help, and she’s nervous he’ll be terrible at it but he’s actually great, and they cook together. They make way too much food, but all these years later, the excess doesn’t give them anxiety anymore, it feels good to be able to celebrate Christmas like this. They have leftovers for a week, and give extras out to people who don’t have their own. 

They love to host Christmas Eve dinner for their close friends, but no big crowds. Maybe a gift exchange with friends, and the first year they do this, they both say that they’ll open their gifts for each other at the gathering. However, on Christmas morning, they both reveal that they’d kept a special gift for the other person to open that day. They’re both shocked to see the other did the same thing, but think it’s adorable, and from then on it becomes a tradition. They always save one, special little thing for Christmas morning. (Maybe one year it’s a ring? Idk that’s not solid but it seems like the logical follow through on this!!) 

There it is!!! Thank you to Taylor Swift and the things I should have been doing but didn’t want to for how long this ended up being, and thank YOU for these questions it got some Real Creative Juices Flowing !!! 

@oh-cruel-fate i’m p sure it’ll notify you I answered your ask but just in case, you can never trust tumblr notifs and if you didn’t see this i might actually cry 

[stillness-in-green]

Spinaraki Week, Day 2: Devotion

Spinner and Re-Destro have some after-hours drinks and talk.  

———–      ———–      ———–      ———–

“Drinks?” Spinner said in the face of Re-Destro’s wide smile.

“It’s just the thing to do after a long day’s work, isn’t it?”  

And that, more or less, was how he wound up with the Liberation Army’s ex-Grand Commander in a secluded portion of the villa’s bar.  It was, no exceptions, the swankiest place he’d ever set foot in, all shiny wood paneling and big glass windows looking out over the pool and courtyard behind the building, and beyond that, the mountain view.  The mountain view, admittedly, would probably be more impressive to people who weren’t still sick of mountains after an extended life or death boss fight in Niigata.

They talked about work first—troop morale (which was why they were Being Seen Together at the bar and not holed up in a private dining room) and squad distribution, how the League was continuing to settle in—and then beer.  Re-Destro had white collar taste in beer and it showed, but Spinner wasn’t in much of a position to heckle him on it.  He had not, before he left home, had the kind of friend group that meant he’d been able to do a bunch of illicit drinking before he hit the legal age, and then after he left home, wasting money and effort on alcohol hadn’t seemed like the kind of thing Stain would approve of when there was a war on society to wage, so he hadn’t then, either.  He was, when he stopped to think about it, kind of a huge alcohol n00b.

He did not tell all that to Re-Destro.  Pretending he had any idea what he was doing was working with the MLA so far, so Spinner meant to keep doing just that.  Anyway, he was pretty sure he already knew what this was really about, and that the two of them were just dancing around it until they were drunk enough to talk about it.

“You’re concerned about the surgery.”  Bingo. “We all are.”  Yotsubashi had much more crooked smile when he was two drinks in. His regular showmanship must have taken a lot of concentration.  “But I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Spinner scowled at the topic change, though it was nice to be proven right about the purpose of the invitation.  "He'll push himself too hard," he insisted, the words pulled out of him like a secret.  "He doesn't know how to quit."  And now he’s going off to be alone with Ujiko for four months.  Without me.  “He needs people around to watch his back.”

Re-Destro took a measured drink.  He looked out the window, eyes on the pool lights refracting up through the water.

“If I may,” he said at last, “what were you all doing up in the mountains?”  

“You don’t know?”  Spinner blinked, a little sluggishly, to which Re-Destro smiled his uneven smile and shook his head.

“I don’t.”

“We were—it was Machia,” Spinner answered.  “We were fighting Machia.”

“Fighting him?”  The man’s brows rose.  “Why?  Isn’t he one of Shigaraki’s most devout followers?”

Spinner snorted, the sound turning into a laugh the more he thought about it.  Memories of pain jangled beneath his skin, the full-body experience of fighting Gigantomachia that had been a month and a half of his life—an uncountable number of cuts, scrapes, and bruises, irregular meals, rotations between combat, watch duty and fitful sleep or total unconsciousness.  Weeks of it, night and day, completely relentless.

And through it all, Shigaraki—filthy as a kid just in from a playground scrap, always nursing some new injury, but with a light of ambition in his eyes that had returned and returned no matter what.  A goal, a conviction.  Exactly what Spinner had been chasing ever since he left home.

He sobered at the realization that he couldn’t even remember what fighting Machia felt like without remembering how it felt to watch Shigaraki doing it.  He shook his head, trying to clear it, and focused back in on Re-Destro.

“Shigaraki got him at the same time he got you,” he answered, grinning in what felt like a pretty ugly way. And me, he didn’t add.  “Machia wanted him to prove himself worthy.”  He ran a hand through the air along with the words, like accenting an invisible banner.  “We were fighting him for six weeks before that.”

"Six weeks?" Re-Destro's brows crept even higher, then lowered back down over a thoughtful frown.  "I see.  That explains it, then."

"Explains what?" Spinner leaned back in his chair, taking another gulp of the beer.  

"Back when I fought him, I thought—I couldn't make sense of it.  We thought we'd done our homework as well as could be imagined, but he was so much—more than I'd been expecting."  The man stared off into the distance, expression caught somewhere between wonder and rue.  "I thought, 'If he were this skilled, surely Kamino would have seen more deaths?' Six weeks against Gigantomachia does give it some perspective."

Spinner looked down into his beer can.  He was pretty sure, even having laid it out like that, that Re-Destro didn’t really understand.  He's probably thinking Machia sleeps more.  That he fought us all equally.  The image swam behind his eyes, Shigaraki grinning like a lunatic behind the hand on his face as the earth erupted around him.

"My compliments to you, though."

Spinner blinked again, looking up with a grunt of surprise into Re-Destro's suddenly beatific expression.

"For your devotion," he explained, tipping his own drink in Spinner's direction.  "It's a beautiful thing, isn't it?  Having something to be so true to."

The back of Spinner's neck burned.  He opened his beak to protest, to misdirect, but stopped himself.  Don't disrespect it, something told him.  Not after what I saw at the end.  

He settled for a nod.