#the person that recognized guy may or may not have been asher

[itsyourstarboy]

Streamer!Honey Headcanons Pt.5

First Part

AT LONG LAST.... THE STREAMER!HONEY HEADCANONS FINALE

Note: This may be the last part, but it is not the end of Streamer!Honey!!! Just the long-winded headcanon posts. I have more planned for the future ^^ mini-fics, shitposts, all sorts of shenanigans <3

—

The punch became a meme. Honey hates it, and Guy hates that Honey hates it.

But god if it isn’t hilarious.

It took a good few months for Honey to stop beating themself up over it, and now they are able to look back on it and laugh. They even have a GIF of the moment as an alert for gifted subs.

—

Charity streams!!! Honey loves doing them. It’s fun, and for a good cause.

And, though it’s fun, sometimes it can get out of hand.

It was meant to be a joke! But, before they knew it, they hit the donation goal...

♡♡♡♡♡♡

HFDJSFEJGGFJSK

IM FREAKING OUT

CANTWAITCANTWAITCANTWAIT

I can’t believe they’re actually doing this 🤭🤭🤭

I DONT KNOW IF MY GAY LITTLE HEART WILL BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT

The sound of the door opening made chat go mostly still.

Honey, very reluctantly with an embarrassed scowl on their face, stepped into camera view.

They stood stiffly, pondering how they ended up here. Here, on stream, in front of thousands of perfect strangers...

Wearing a maid outfit.

Not even a comfortable one! It was frilly, and itchy, and the skirt was way too fucking short.

OMFGNO I FCKING CANT-

🤣🤣🤣🤣

I CANT BREATHE

OH MY GOOOOOOOD

You look so cute!!!

THIS WAS SO WORTH THE MONEY

IM WHEEZING AND I CANT FIND MY INHALERR

HSGJJFHZJAHHAHAHAH

Oh 😳😳

WHY IT LOOK KINDA GOOD THO??

[HONEY’S] TOO HOT THEY KILLED SOMEBODY

“I hate everything,” Honey muttered, as they tried to tug the dress down. It was bad enough that it was so revealing, but it also wouldn’t zip up all the way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

It would only get worse, however, as the next goal would add thigh highs.

And the one after that would add...

SAY NYA RIGHT FUCKING NOW

AaaaawwwWWWW WHAT A CUTE KITTY

You mean “right fucking meow?”

THEY LOOK SO PISSED LMAO

SAY NYA RIGHT FUCKING MEOW

They’re gonna kill us 😭😭😭😭

IM QUEER

With what? Their wittle paws?? 😽😽

This is my phone lockscreen now

Simp

“Yeah, you all better enjoy this, ‘cause I’m never doing it again.”

Doubt it, this is the fastest we’ve ever raised money

NOOOOOOOOO

Still waiting for you to say nya

NYAAAAAANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA

ITS THE CIIIIIIIIRRRRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIFEEE

“I’m not saying that.”

tf you’re not-

★someone donated $50★

SAY NYA BITCH

Honey heaved out a sigh that bordered a growl, and very blandly, “nya.”

As Chat cheered and went practically feral, Honey could only be glad that this couldn’t possibly get any wors-

They froze as they heard the Jaws theme start playing.

“Oh f-”

HE’S HEEEERE

YEEEEEEEESS

HoneysHeaven: wowah 😳

THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER

HOLY CRAP SOMEONE TAGGED HIM ON TWITTER 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

HoneyHeaven: hey there Honey ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

SOMEONE SNITCHED????

Honey braced their elbows on their desk and hid their face in their hands. “Go back to working.”

HoneysHeaven: I will if you promise to still be wearing that when I get home 👀👀

“I’m burning it as soon as this stream ends.”

NOO YOU CANT BURN IT YOU LOOK SO SEXYY 😩😩

The boy just wants to see you all dolled up Boo, let him have his treat

“The next 15 minutes are going to be hell.”

HoneysHeaven: oooh the next goal you put on a collar, hm? 😏😏

Guy ur killing even me rn

OH WAIT I JUST GOT GUYS USERNAME

HoneysHeaven: Honey can you send me like $70

“I am not sending you money.”

HoneysHeaven: awww cmon 🥺🥺 my break ends in 2 minutes I just want to see you in a collar

ITS FOR CHARITY

DONATE TO THE CAUSE

“I’ll put you in a collar,” Honey grumbled with their arms crossed tightly.

HoneysHeaven: wouldn’t be the first time 😉

HOW DO WE RAISE ANOTHER 500 IN 10 MINUTES

AYO WHAT????

—

Guy likes interrupting Honey’s streams unprompted. He loves seeing the smile on their face. The gentle one that they wear while doing what they love. It makes him want to smother them in kisses.

Sometimes when he does this, he forgets about the mask and glasses. There have been plenty of times where he’s nearly accidentally exposed his face to the world, and it gives his honey a mini heart attack each time.

Honey made the executive decision to rearrange their setup so that the door was no longer in view. That way, Guy could spontaneously enter as much as he pleased.

—

Honey was still streaming when Guy returned home from work. They had told him in advance that this stream would be dragging on a bit longer than normal.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Honey looked up as they heard the door click open. Guy entered, waving a paper bag around.

“Honeeeey,” he sang, “I’ve brought you somethiiiiing.”

is that the boy i hear 👀👀👀

EVERYONE SHUT UP I NEED TO WITNESS THIS

DETROIT CAN WAIT THIS IS IMPORTANT

Honey eyed the bag skeptically as Guy drew closer, “should I be worried?”

“No,” Guy laughed, stopping right outside of the camera’s view. “I brought you donuts!”

“Ooh, really? What’s your motive?”

“Wha-? Motive!? Why do you think I would have a motive?”

Honey raised an eyebrow at their boyfriend and smirked.

Immensely offended, Guy scoffed, “what, am I not allowed to bring the most important person in my life a treat? Purely out of my own volition and the kindness of my heart?”

“I was joking before, but now I’m actually suspicious...”

“Just take the donuts, Honey,” Guy softly spoke with a warm smile, holding out the bag and leaning forward.

When Honey’s hand brushed against his own, Guy leaned closer, his other hand cupping the back of their neck. He held the bag up to hide his face from viewers as he placed a gentle kiss on his partners cheek.

Honey, growing ever more flustered, let out a nervous chuckle as they pushed Guy away and accepted the gifts.

AWWWWHDWSAIHDGDKDSBIDS

ITS HAPPENING

OMG

NO

DID HE KISS THEM??

WHERE IS THE CLIP I NEED TO SEE THAT AGAIN

When you’re so lonely you’re living vicariously through someone in your screen

UH YEAH THATS THE POINT

OF COURSE

I GOT THE CLIP I GOT IT

Chat wouldn’t stop talking about it for the entire rest of the stream.

And for the next 4 streams after that...

—

Chat knows that Guy is important to Honey. No other roommate of theirs has ever become such a big part of their life, everyone knows that they have to be something more.

They stopped bugging Honey about it after a year. It's just kind of common knowledge that these two have a lot of chemistry, but asking straight up about their relationship won't work.

Not that having an answer would change anything, Chat loves seeing how happy Honey is with Guy.

—

It took a little over a year for Honey to agree, but finally they are streaming a game with Guy!!

They're playing Raft. Honey in their streaming room, and Guy in the living room. They're communicating through discord, and Chat is having a blast.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Did you finish building that engine yet?" Honey asked, filling a chest with some items.

"No, I thought you were going to do it," Guy answered.

"I literally told you to go ahead and make one two minutes ago!"

"I was busy distracting the shark while you were scavenging all that shit underwater!"

We should get them couples counciling

Guy can't keep being shark bait ooh ah ah 😭😭

I still don't understand the point of this game

It's his destiny

Raft

raft

The point is raft

RAFT

"Honey, I think I'm dying. My hunger bar is low."

"Then eat something, we have plenty of food."

"I don't think I can make it back in time," Guy whined.

"Wh- where are you??"

You could practically hear Guy's pout, "I went back on the island because you were mad at me."

"I am not mad at you," Honey responded, exasperated, "where are you at on the island?"

"Uhmm... I'm in a place with lots of trees."

"Okay, I'm bringing you some shark meat."

"The shark is dead?"

"Yeah I killed it."

[HONEY] MOVE FASTER WE CANT LET HIM DIE

They are playing the game so wrong I am ripping my hair out

Tip: multiple sails will make you go faster

They can play however they want to 😡

The only right way to do anything is the [Honey] and Guy way

"Oh shi-" Guy started, "I'm dead."

"You're fiiine."

"No, my character just collapsed from hunger."

"Don't be dramatic, I'm almost there."

"I'm not being dramatic!! I died!!!"

"A little death never killed anybody."

Honey found Guy's character, limp on the ground, and picked him up.

"Alright, you big baby, I'll take you to the bed."

"Oooooh," Guy sang impishly, "you're carrying me to bed?"

"Yep."

"What are you gonna do with me once we get there?"

"When we get there, you are gonna build that goddamn engine!"

Upon arrival to the raft, Honey discovered something...

"Where the fuck is the bed??"

Guy coughed out a laugh, "oh, uhm- I might've taken it with me when I left."

"Why would you do that!?!?"

"Because you were mad at me!!!"

"I swear to god-" Honey dropped Guy's carcass on the raft and went to collect materials to make another bed.

"Honeeeeey," Guy whined, "this wooden floor is hard."

Honey sighed, "I'm making you a bed, hold on."

"Come lay underneath meeee."

AGDKSGAKBFK

Boi he wants them under him 👀👀

Can't believe they let Guy die, I'll never forgive them for this 😢🤧😖 /lh /j

Our boy really stepped up his flirting game 😳😳😳

Too bad [Honey] is too oblivious

They're not oblivious, they're an asshole

A distinct sound of sharp teeth chomping into their hard work caught Honey's attention.

"Fuckin' hell," they murmured, "the stupid shark is back."

"Hurry up making the bed and I can kill it," Guy offered.

"I thought you were making the bed," Honey retorted.

Guy scoffed, "Honey!!!!"

"I gotta stab the shark, hold on."

Cold blooded

Yeah

They don't deserve Guy I'm gonna kidnap him

That shark is an endangered species!!!

DoNT YOU DARE GUYNAP OUR BELOVED BOY

Finally, finally, Honey returned and placed Guy's character on the bed. He sprang up immediately.

Guy's cheerful voice started up, "yayyy, thank you Hone-" and was cut off with a yelp.

The shark had glitched through the bottom of the raft and attack Guy. It scared him half to death, but Honey?

Honey was laughing hysterically.

And it was music to Guy's ears.

Gasping for breath, they kept trying to say something, but continuously fell into a fit of giggles.

Guy was barely able to form his own words without laughing, trying to feign offense at his honey's joy in seeing him hurt. But hearing them laugh so heartily? He couldn't help but melt.

And he didn't want to just hear it, he wanted to see it.

"I'm coming to get you, Honey!" He announced, just before darting towards their room.

"No, no no!" They tried to object, but it was too late as Guy came bursting in.

They were in his arms and on the floor in an instant, tears streaming down their face as they tried to breathe.

Their face hurt from smiling, and they tried to calm down, but as soon as their breathing slowed Guy started to tickle them.

"Guy-! No!! Stop it!" They squealed and squirmed, but to no avail. Their previous laughing fit left them exhausted.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I feel like we shouldn't be watching this

HES SO CUTE????

GUY FACE REVEAL!!!!!

EVERYONE SHIELD YOUR EYES

TURN OFF YOUR DEVICES THIS IS ILLEGAL

Wait I think I've seen him before!

When all settled down, Guy and Honey were nothing but a mess of tangled limbs on the floor, just barely out of frame.

"I love you, Honey," he said softly.

Honey smiled, "I love you too."

—

When the couple realized that Guy was no longer anonymous, Honey made him start carrying pepper spray while he worked.

Gotta keep the boy safe.

The End.

A/N: Thank you for reading the Streamer!Honey series ♡ I've loved writing it, and it makes me so happy that you all loved it as well!

[quacka-quacka]

I mentioned Paul's strong resistance to being recognized as effeminate man or gay (here). Although he can hang out with gay guys, wear rainbow flag in public [yeah I definitely need to write that again in case someone didn't see it], being considered gay or "cute" is beyond endurance. I know someone love to interpret this as "don't want to his sexuality being mislabeled", which indeed looks sensible when it comes to the homosexuality, but this excuse can't be applied to the "cute" thing, right? You can't say being cute or feminine is the same thing as being gay, can you? Well, I can hear Paul's every single cell screaming O!M!G! Feminine! all the time. He doesn't want himself have anything to do with feminine, which, unfortunately can not be simply regarded as personal preference, it's indeed a despising of femininity, and femininity? Of course it's about female. Yes, "phallicism", the worship of masculine are still popular in today's society, but it doesn't mean it's right. I have to say Paul's thought is the product of this society, not to mention that he is an old man who grow up in a working-class family six decades ago, we can't demand him that much. His attitude towards women is the same thing.

PAUL: We were more amazed to see the [Japanese] women leaping up out of the seats for the promoter, because we'd never seen that in the West. The subservience of the women was amazing. They'd say, 'Oh God, I'm sorry - was I in your seat?' I remember us getting back to Britain and saying to our wives and girlfriends, 'I wouldn't want you to do that, but maybe it's a direction worth considering?' Promptly rejected.

— The Beatles Anthology

Although Paul seems to know that it's pretty cool for a woman to pursue her own career, like admitting Jane was famous before he was, allowing Linda to write a cookbook or have a photography exhibition, the androcentrism is too ingrained for him to forsake. He acknowledged Jane's achievements but still wanted her to give up work completely:

'I always wanted to beat Jane down,' says Paul. 'I wanted her to give up work completely.'

'I refused. I've been brought up to be always doing something. And I enjoy acting. I didn't want to give that up.'

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

He allowed Linda to do her own thing, but they are not entirely hers - all those projects are belong to MPL, and do not forget Paul said this after Linda's death:

She never did anything on her own because we were together so much. 

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chrissie Henderson for USA Week-end: Tears and laughter. (October 30, 1998)

That's so sweet to see Paul would support his wife any time, but on the other hand it also shows that Linda never get the chance to do something entirely on her own without Paul's interference after she got married. No wonder so many people from inner circle [including Linda, yeah] described Paul as "typical Northerner":

Linda confided that Paul was a ‘typical Northerner’ who believed women should stay at home while men worked.

— Bonnie Estridge, The Mail on Sunday. (March 20th, 2005)

Paul was raised the old-fashioned way. Men were the breadwinners; women stayed at home, had babies and tea on the table. He's still an old-fashioned guy, very careful with money.

— Ruth McCartney

Like the other Beatles, he [Paul] was essentially an old fashioned Liverpool man, who wanted his woman tucked away at home cooking the dinner and minding the kids.

— Cynthia Lennon, John

Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That’s why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was completely devoted to her husband.

— Marianne Faithfull, Memories, Dreams and Reflections

I'd say Paul was not that old-fashioned, at least he allowed his wife to do other things besides being a full-time nanny, but everything she does must cater his needs. As Jane once mentioned, he always wants his girl to adore him like fans:

The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish; it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy.

— Jane Asher, Love Me Do! The Beatles’ Progress by Michael Braun

I know some of the fans can't wait to jump up now and shout "Paul and Jane didn't have a mature relationship!" "He's much mature after he meet Linda!" "Paul and Linda had a very very very healthy relationship!" Ok, if you really did some research, you may know that he's never mature enough to know how to fully respect women, at least before the end of divorce with Heather Mills. I have seen the theory appears too many times that Paul and Linda's marriage is the result of careful consideration: Linda came along with a ready-made child and she's ready to marry again - well, I regret to tell you both Paul and Linda wouldn't agree with you.

I was a great disappointment to my family When I got married [to a geologist] and moved to Arizona, it was crazy. I had been pressured by men all my life. I rather liked being on my own, making my own decisions. I had actually sworn to myself that I would never get married again.

— Linda McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)

As she says, she's quite enjoy her freedom and had absolutely no interest in marriage. What did Paul do? He "twisted her arm" to make her agree.

I persuaded Linda to come to London for a visit. Then I rang Heather in New York and said, ‘Heather, will you marry me?’ She was five. ‘No, don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘I’m too young.’ ‘Well, I can wait,’ I said. So we went to New York and brought her back to London to live with us, and I twisted Linda’s arm and finally she agreed to marry me.

— Paul McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)

Linda also said neither of them knew what they were doing when they got married:

LINDA: 'So instead of getting an agent I met Paul instead and got married. Or I was going through a transition then and didn't know quite what I was doing and he obviously didn't know quite what he was doing so we ended up marrying instead.'

— Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now

Again, I'm not saying Paul and Linda never loved each other or their marriage was completely made up for media, but I don't think his marriage with Linda enabled him to prioritize other's feelings [his status as one of the four head monsters doesn't help]. Linda's overmuch unilateral compromises certainty don't make him look mature. Let alone his excessive dependence on her.

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

Reply to all these who think feminize Paul/men is a bad thing:

You love to say that Paul doesn't want the cute title because people used to mock him by that. I understand it. But do you ever think about why being feminine is not taking him seriously? Do you ever think about this is the discrimination about femininity from the whole society? Why does a man must be despised when he has anything to do with femininity? And Paul's approach is denying his femininity, which is the same with those who mock it, like - a man being feminine is a shame because it means he can't be "respected" like other men. It's the recognition of this concept, which is outdated if you think about it.

P.S. Someone who reblogged my post doesn't seem to like the sentence "there must be many sweet moments between Paul and Linda". Ok, I delete it then.

[hqgodspeed]

a few days after valentine’s day, basteon gather’s the demigods together in the banquet hall, his demeanor seems different than normal, as if the tension between his shoulders is becoming less and less—maybe he’s beginning to believe in the demigods, in their capability to combat the evils of this world. 

he clears his throat, arms crossed over his wide chest. “sons of olympus, the time has come to discuss the next trial. we’ve lost one worthy son and gained another. now it’s time to increase those numbers.”

his gaze lingers over each demigod until he stares blankly ahead. “if you believe that you’re ready, step forward and plead your case. let your words sway your companions into action.”

he leaves, then, and demigods begin to stand, one by one, trying to bolster their friends with their words. 

𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐌

There’s a silence when the attention turns to the son of Zeus, a careful, stoic expression on his face. In his hand is a heavy, cloth-wrapped object, a symbol. “We’re here again, ready to throw ourselves back in the fire.” He starts, glancing around at the faces of his fellow demigods. “I’ve seen you all survive the flames, emerge stronger, beaten, but better.”

“I’ve faced my own trials too, personal and around the world, both wins and losses.” He pulls the cloth off, revealing the half of Zeus’ shield. “I found this in Greece, and I take it as a sign, one that I have to complete what I’ve started.” He stands tall, back straight. “I’m ready to prove myself.”

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐎

"it has to be me. i think, there's no roundabout, bullshit way of saying it. i've been here the longest, with ari and tristan, and it's time i show you guys what i've learned and the drive i have to do this. i've lost a lot of friends on the way here, and all those times i always thought i should be going faster. i need help. i need my dad's shoes or whatever, because that's going to be the thing to make sure i actually save the next person. so no one dies on my watch again. i'm ready."

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇

Daith stood up and cleared his throat as he looked at his fellow demigods. "I have to admit that I wasn't expecting to propose myself for a trial... I honestly planned to wait until the last possible moment because... It would suck a lot if it turns out I'm incapable of it, and I used to think my mother would be so dissapointed that she'd call the next son on line and put me out of my misery" he said, chuckling for a second before his expression turned more serious. "But... things changed. People changed. We lost people... but we also gained them..." he said, smiling at the others briefly, his hand wrapping around the Necklace of Sacrifice, that he never took off now. "I know I'm not the strongest demigod of the bunch. And Ari will be mad at me, but I also have to admit I'm not the best. I panic. I'm selfish. I'm impulsive. I get easily distracted by cute guys..." he said, smirking, as a lot of his current sources of distraction were present. "But I'm also one of the demigods that had stayed the longest here at camp. I used both my fighting and my abilities to survive. But, most of all, I had the support of all of you. And, if the trials and quests had shown us something is that if we don't face challenges united, we will all fall. So I'm willing to put aside my own fails and shortcomings and battle to be recognized as the worthy son of Aphrodite". He then took a deep breath and looked down, to find Mr. Candle waving another flag with his face, which made him laugh. "I understand if you decide to choose another demigod but... know that I'm ready to do this. And that I believe we can do this together. My mother started wars. But she also joined nations under her cult. Love unites us. And, if we are together... Love can conquer all. Thank you all". Mr. Candle waved the flag excitedly before jumping on Daith's lap, clapping and looking at everyone so they would clap too. Or else.

𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑

"So here's the thing," Asher begins, and instantly he felt like he was going through a stint of Deja vu. "A lot has changed since we voted on our last trial. Mostly, we know that there are forces outside of Eris that are coming for us. Forces with powers none of us really know the limits of. I think from a necessity base, we need my artifact that can combat what they can do. I am the son of Time, my father's powers are a trump card, they have to be. If we can secure that, our possibilities are endless." He looked at each of the other demigods, trying to look them each in the eye, "I'm confident that I'm ready to rock my trial. Not only have I been through our latest one, I have assisted in taking down plenty of enemies, and that's just me at half strength. Imagine what I'm capable of once I have my father's gift? Plus. I mean, my father's trial is in the Palace of Westmincer. It beats the hell out of trekking through some enchanted palace. Make the smart move, and give yourself and the rest of us the power of time to get this right. Vote Jones."

𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑

"attention, losers," ragnor leapt on the stage and faced the others, a flourish to his movements.

perhaps it wasn’t the wisest to begin a speech with such a term—but he hoped it was as endearing as he’d meant it to be. ragnor’s heartbeats were rampant within his chest, but the smile that cut through his face was bright, rehearsed. he needed to be the bronze-haired hero for them today, someone martyr-boned and trustworthy. it was a performance but a seamless one that came with much ease.

perhaps a part of ragnor truly believed he was a hero.

he began, and for once his words poured out raw; no sugar-coat, no honey.

“i am not going to stir idle conversation about how i am the perfect candidate; i am not.” that, he believed. that, he knew. “but,” ragnor’s gaze swept over every face. “i am not the fuckin’ mess from a few months ago, either. no more drunken shenanigans, no more rookie mistakes. these past few quests and the trial have been exhaustin’, but i’ve saved some of your asses with my dancing skills—helped freed kit’s mother from her corruption—held my own against some of those dark aether dip-shits with ari and keaton.” he steeled his jaw then. “what i am saying is, i am strong enough to take on my father dionysus's trial now, i am ready to face his frenzy." he was also ready to confront whatever curse that laid dormant within him; to let his father's madness cut it from the root. "the anklet may not be that remarkable of an artifact but some of you have seen, first hand how powerful a well-timed dance can be in battle.” he let his smirk unfurl then and made a graceful, theatrical bow to signal the end of his speech.

before ragnor left the stage, however, he added: “also, it's in fuckin' vegas, c'mon.”

𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

"second verse, same as the first, am i right guys???? haha but seriously, vote tucker rhee! not only will i put my, like, proverbial pedal to the metal, but i promise that i won't let anyone die without a proper seance. also, cali is like a really great vacation spot and stuff, so i'll be able to take everyone out to expensive dinners and we can, like, go to a yoga retreat or something. cheers!!! xoxo!!!"

𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐘

"look," iggy starts, shrugging, "i know i'm newer than most of you that spoke up already, but just because we're new doesn't mean we're not as important." he pointedly looks at everyone, but lingers on the veterans. "you can look down on us all you want, but we're never going to prove ourselves unless you let us." he grins, cocky and sure of himself. "let me be the first to show you all that we newcomers are just as worthy as the rest of you."

𝐊𝐈𝐓

there's a new sense of confidence that swells in the pit of his stomach. before, there was hesitation to his words, in his being. but too many things have happened since talk of the last trial, his eyes have been opened, his focus recentered. "i'm still not the strongest among us." he starts, looking around at each of the demigods gathered. "but i'm relentless." his fingers rest against the table top of their dining tables, closing his eyes for a moment. "i was relentless in trying to figure out where my mother was, so much so that i nearly killed myself trying to find answers. relentless in setting souls to rest after they were forcefully taken from this world. relentless in my pursuit of knowledge." he pauses, eyes lingering over each and every demigod, making eye contact for a moment before looking to the next.

"i found where my mother was, followed the clues that lead ten of us to samothrace. together, we figured out where my mother was, discovered what eris had turned her into—what she might have turned all our parents into." his expression changes, eyes almost flickering dark as he remembers the embryo, the multi-headed abberation that his mother had become when he let her out of her confinement. "and together, we freed her from that corruption, i was willing to die if it meant that she be restored and i almost did—my magic kept me alive and i destroyed the foulness of whatever was corrupting her heart with the magic that runs in my veins. when we got back here, ari and i restored her back to her rightful home down in the crypts and we felt something—power—that was being restored back to olympus, protective magics." his expression softens now, a smile playing upon his lips as he remembers the tremor, that feeling of power that radiated from ancient runes he could barely understand.

his eyes close as he remembers the feeling of her arms around him, the warmth, that same feeling of belonging he's always longed to feel. "she told me she loved me." his voice quiets down to an almost whisper. "she hugged me and told me she was proud of me." his eyes open, the softness of his expression mirroring the look on his face. "and she told me something else, something that this trial—my trial—is the next step in doing."

he takes a deep breath, a sigh parting his lips. "she told me that when i ascend, we'd be together forever. she believes in me." he looks out now, his expression gentle, but a fire lingers beneath the surface of his eyes, one that burns with determination. "and i hope that the rest of you will, too. i'm ready. i was willing to die in order to help the cause, but now i'm willing to survive and fight until we get our parents back and defeat this darkness once and for all."

he takes a seat, eyes still looking out at each of the demigods until his gaze rests on ragnor, a smile on his face as the nerves begin to settle in. 

[bobbyischill]

My Relationship With Andi Mack

Two years ago, when I was in 10th grade, my GSA advisor was telling me and a friend about a Disney Channel show. She hadn’t watched it yet, but apparently one of the main characters had just come out as gay! I was really happy for Disney and glad that queer kids all over the world had someone like them to look up to. However, I, a 15 year old, a mature teenager, wouldn’t really enjoy a kids show, right? So I went about the rest of my day without giving it a second thought....

Until I went home and opened up Tumblr. One of the first posts I saw was someone giving props to Disney for making such a diverse, inclusive show that was actually GOOD. They said it reminded them of Girl Meets World, except it was a million times better and diverse. Okay fine, I thought. I guess I’ll check out Andi Mack. (BOOYY I HAD A BIG STORM COMING)

I opened up my iPad around 10:30pm and decided to watch an episode or two, depending on how tired I was. After the very first episode, I recognized that this show was special. Like, REALLY special. The characters were fleshed out and unique. There was the “twist” about Bex being Andi’s mom. The friendships and relationships felt real. I knew I was going to binge the whole show that night.

That night, as I continued on with the show, I fell in love with each one of them. They all had their own quirks, they were all nuanced. I fell in love with how competitive, protective to a fault, and caring Buffy was. I fell in love with how awkward and goofy and relatable Cyrus was. I fell in love with how kind and oblivious Jonah was. I fell in love with how hard-working and funny Andi was, and how much she cared about certain things and the people around her. I fell in love with the dynamics between certain characters and how they were always changing. I loved how it tackled racism in school (Buffy had to change her hair or be sent home), how unfair dress codes are to students (especially girls), how you need to take a stand for what you believe in (the prison uniforms), and how stepping out of your comfort zone is a good thing, even if you get hurt (Andi watching a horror movie and being terrified, but not regretting it). This was all in the first season.

This show already meant so much to me. And then Cyrus looked back at Jonah. In the words of Jonah Beck, “I cried”. Just that hint of representation was more than I had ever scene on Disney or any other show marketed to kids.

And then Cyrus came out to Buffy. I, a pansexual who was out to my friends but not any of my family and who still struggled with intense internalized homophobia, burst into tears. I related to how ashamed and afraid Cyrus looked. I needed to hear Buffy’s heartfelt response. “You may be weird, but you’re no different.” That phrase was constantly bouncing through my head for at least the next few days (and if I’m being honest, it still is). I wrote it all over my notes and assignments because it was literally all I could think about for such a long time. I saw the sign on the wall that said “G: for General Audiences.” That showed me that Disney (or at least Terri Minsky, my queen) truly felt that I wasn’t a freak. I didn’t need to hide my identity from anyone if I didn’t want to. My identity wasn’t a mature subject; it was for general audiences. (Also, I just want to add that Sofia and Josh’s acting in this scene was absolutely fantastic. It was so raw and emotional, and it still makes me cry every time I see it.)

And then in that same episode Cyrus and Buffy talked about his crush on Jonah. They did it so casually, and my mind was blown. At this point, I had honestly never seen so much gay representation in a show as this.

That night, I stayed up until 5am. I was rewatched Cyrus’s coming out scene about 10 times. I fangirled about it on Tumblr. I added “Tomorrow Starts Today” to my Spotify playlist. I even wrote a diary entry about it. (I only write in my diary when I’m feeling very intense emotions that I need to write down in order to figure out.)

The next day at school, I told all my Gay Friends about Andi Mack and how amazing it was. A few of them got into it, and it was fun talking to them about it, but after a while I was pretty heavily hyperfixated on it and I needed more. And I felt like I was bothering my followers with constant posts about how much I loved Andi Mack. So I made this blog. @cyrus-made-tshirts. I haven’t changed the name since. That’s how I became an official part of the friendom.

I love this fandom. I don’t even know many people personally or have made many friends through it, but this fandom was everything to me. I loved the posts, the crackhead theories, josh’s account. I loved the crackships, the real ships, the overanalyzing of every line, of every movement, of every promo. I loved watching the reactions on YouTube. I loved making posts about the show and having hundreds of people relate to it or find it funny, especially the gay ones. My very first post to get more than 50 notes was one about how Miranda and Bex would make a cute couple (this was before Miranda was revealed to be a snake.)

For the past year and a half, Andi Mack has been my life. I have survived the many ship wars. I have survived the months-long hiatuses. I have survived the ominous tweets and posts Josh has made and the frenzy of panicking everywhere that followed it. And I have loved every minute of it.

I’ve seen these characters I love grow up before my eyes. They’ve all changed and evolved and matured so much. There’s so much more representation since I started watching the show. There’s a character with a learning disability, characters with anxiety, a homeless character, a deaf character. There’s been multiple episodes celebrating Jewish and Chinese culture. I’ve seen Cyrus go from nervously nodding in agreement that he liked a boy to unprovokingly telling his friend he liked that boy to flat-out telling his ex-crush he is gay to holding hands with his crush in public. I’ve seen all of Cyrus’s friends support him unconditionally. I’ve seen him find his happily ever after (for middle school, at least).

And then the last episode aired. I knew I was never going to be prepared for it, but HOLY SHIT, it’s over. And the finale was like a fanfiction it was so good. I watched it live on Thursday night at midnight. I freaked out about it online for three hours, then watched it on Disney Now. I pulled an all-nighter because I just kept rewatching it online until Friday night, when I watched it air on Disney. The way Cyrus and TJ sang Born This Way with the rest of the characters cured my depression, cleared my skin, and watered my crops. The bench scene was so fucking beautiful and romantic it caused me to hyperventilate. The acting from both Luke and Josh was incredible. Honestly, Luke crushed it the entire time as TJ and the bench scene was the icing on top. This scene meant more to met than some people could ever know.

A couple months ago, I was in a pretty shit place emotionally and mentally. Literally the only thing stopping me from killing myself was the guilt of leaving my friends and family behind. I needed another reason to stay, something to keep me grounded. And that reason became Andi Mack. I promised myself I would live to see the day Tyrus became canon. And I did it. I’m in a much better place now, and I’m not going to do anything stupid now that Tyrus has become canon (TYRUS HAS BECOME CANON!!! AAKDBEISSHSB I STILL HAVENT PROCESSED THAT YET!!!!). But at the time, I really needed Andi Mack to help me keep fighting. And it was there for me. And I will always be indebted to it for my life.

This show has helped me in so many other ways. It’s helped me drastically reduce my internalized homophobia. It’s given me a community of people that understand me. It’s created so many characters that I love. So thank you to Terri Minsky for creating this show and amazing characters that I will love forever. Thank you to Disney for funding it and not completely censoring it. Thank you to the crew for working tirelessly to make this happen. Thank you to Peyton, Emily, Asher, Josh, Luke, Lilan, Trent, Garren, Sofia, and every other actor for pouring their heart into this show. A special thank you to Josh and Luke for making me feel safe and loved and for caring so much about their story arcs. (And their political activism is pretty awesome, too.)

I’m really going to miss screaming about this show with you guys. I really hope that some people keep creating fanart and fanfics and keep making memes and crackships. I hope the friendom never dies. Because every one of you is so special and fun to hang out with online. And I’m really gonna miss it. And now I’m crying, and this is getting WAYYY too long, so I’m gonna stop talking now lmao. But I want to say this show has changed me in so many ways and I’m grateful to every single person involved, including the amazing friendom. I’ll love you all forever. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[wanlidas-archive]

OLIVIA & ASHER.    re: @constantwar. don’t reblog.

the kiss asher & olivia shared after olivia’s birthday is what olivia considers their first kiss.  the relationship that has formed between them,  the support they have for one another,  the feelings that have developed between them  ——-  it doesn’t stem from their hookup the previous year.  none of what they feel now was built from that night.  their hookup is entirely disconnected from what they feel for each other now.  the support they have for each other does go back to that night in some ways,  but even that is more about how they were able to be there for each other in a dark time more than it was about hooking up with one another.

even though they’re together now,  they still see their hookup as a mistake.  for olivia,  it will always be her biggest regret,  no matter how deep her feelings for asher go and how their relationship continues to develop.  she had no romantic feelings for asher before,  during,  or even after their hookup  ——-  their hookup was based solely on the loneliness and pain they both felt and found comfort in with one another,  but it wasn’t about that other person specifically back then.

that hookup ruined a lot for olivia.  she pulled away from her best friend and her brother because of it,  two of the most important people in her life,  because she felt guilty for what she had done.  it’s a representation of how bad her addiction had become and how lost she was during the hardest time of her life.  when she thinks about their hookup,  she thinks of the worst time in her life  ——  not because of asher,  because asher helped her that night,  but because of the choices she made.  it has forever put a dent in her and layla’s friendship that olivia doesn’t believe can ever truly be fixed,  even if she often feels like her friendship with layla is one-sided.  for so long,  she has let layla walk over her  (  whether layla realizes she’s doing that or not  )  because she feels like she herself has done the worst possible thing,  and she doesn’t believe layla can ever truly forgive her for that.  and that’s even more true after the party,  because while layla had only attacked olivia because of her own pain and it wasn’t really about olivia,  olivia sees this all as unresolved feelings that she used against her because she had the material to do so.  so even if it wasn’t about olivia,  she still showed her that she may never truly trust her again  ——  which is exactly why olivia tried to break away from their friendship months ago,  because the two never truly work through their problems,  they just continue to move on like everything’s fine,  and olivia continues to feel like she’s the one pulling the most weight,  and it’s not fair for either of them.   

but even though olivia often feels like she is giving more than she gets in her friendship with layla,  and even though their friendship was strained even before the two had betrayed each other in different  (  and similar  )  ways,  layla is still and will always be one of the most important people in her life,  and hurting her the way she did still haunts her.  that’s why she doesn’t consider that night to be her first time with asher or anything real between them.  she didn’t hook up with asher to hurt layla;  she didn’t hook up with asher because she had feelings for him,  or because he had feelings for her.  she did it because he was the first person to give her attention,  and lack of attention was her trigger at the time. he could have been anyone,  and as long as she was getting attention  /  feeling less alone in how hurt she was because he was hurt too,  she wanted to be with him that night.  it had nothing to do with layla or asher,  but everything to do with olivia,  so that night she shared with him will always be a regret for her,  and it will never be associated with what her relationship with asher is now.

the relationship she had with asher back then is so different than what she has now.  she’s different,  he’s different,  and they’re different together.  back then,  they were both at their lowest.  right now,  asher is healthier than he’s been and still moving forward.  olivia is getting there,  but she’s doing really well,  especially compared to last year.  back then,  he was just her brother’s friend and her best friend’s boyfriend,  and while she still cared about him given that she’s known him for so long and he’s constantly around,  she didn’t have the connection she has with him now.  that connection started that night in the sense that she knew she wanted to look out for him,  but she continued to keep her distance out of guilt.  but their relationship didn’t really kick off until homecoming night.

there’s something about asher and olivia that allows them to connect with each other in a way that their other friends and family just can’t.  they both know what it’s like to see the other at their lowest  (  and actually recognize it.  )  they both know what the other needs in terms of what’s best for them  /  what they need to hear despite it not being what they want to hear.  asher mortified olivia in front of her family,  her friends,  her date,  and all the people who had ditched her after she went to rehab  ——-  but she understood him well enough to know that he wasn’t trying to attack her,  but his pain was his own and he was projecting onto anyone else.  she helped him because she knew that no one else would.  she helped him that night because she knew that no one else understood that he was in pain,  and that was his way of dealing with it  ——  that it wasn’t about olivia or anyone else,  just himself.  he wasn’t attacking her;  he was projecting his own pain,  and she doesn’t hold that against him.  she knows what she has done to hurt others while she was at her lowest,  so she did what she needed back then,  and she was there for him regardless of what he’s done to others.  no one else could have helped him in that way,  and she did it because she was so familiar with it,  and that’s what he needed.  

this connection deepened when she realized he was homeless and she pushed him to get back to football after he had lost it all.  she understood that success in football is vital for his future.  his friends on the team weren’t in the position to help him get back on track because he had directly betrayed them.  they didn’t owe him anything and it’s reasonable that they wouldn’t be trying to get him back on the team when he tried to ruin their season singlehandedly.  but olivia sees a different side of asher that no one has seen  —-  not his best friends,  not his ex girlfriend,  not his family.  asher is so overdramatized and puts on such an act around his friends, ex, team, etc. but he has always been very real and genuine with olivia in a way that makes it easy for her to see this real, softer side of him,  in a way that no one else can.  when people question her motives about helping him,  it’s because they don’t see that same version of him that she does.  she sees the real him and she likes the real him.  she’s rooting for that guy and she understands why he wears a mask to other people.  she accepts all sides of him,  but she’s constantly working on showing him that the real, genuine version of him is welcome and will be celebrated by others, because she can tell he’s scared to show that side.  that’s why,  despite the coach having no real reason to welcome him back on the team,  olivia made sure billy got to meet the version of asher he was working to be,  and he was able to come back on the team and prove that he’s working to be better.

he’s inspiring to her.  she sees him working to move forward and to be better,  and it’s a visual reminder that she needs to keep doing the same.  it feels like they can measure they’re growth together because of how they’ve helped each other and how they’ve grown with one another.  that’s why she’s constantly telling him how proud she is of him.  after she spent months in rehab trying to better herself,  no one told her they were proud of her.  no one noticed that she had made leaps.  validating him is important to her and it’s not something she’s ever going to stop ----  and given who asher is,  i think he needs that too.  and that support isn’t one sided,  either  (  something that olivia lacks in a lot of relationships,  and she doesn’t always notice that herself ----  until she’s given that attention from asher.  )   despite olivia being surrounded by the people closest to her at chris’s party,  asher was the only one who realized that given olivia’s current situation,  the party was obviously going to be a trigger for her.  and he was persistent on making sure she didn’t relapse ----- something that other people weren’t even as supportive of.  and while i do think that olivia would have stopped herself before going too far,  olivia doesn’t trust herself as much as that,  and she still thinks that asher is the one who saved her from doing something she would regret that night.  but he doesn’t treat her addiction as something that only matters when she’s struggling,  either  ----  another aspect of her relationship with him that isn’t there with others.  understandably so,  her mother didn’t consider what would could happen if she took away her contact to her sponsor.  asher gave her a way of contacting her sponsor at anytime, understanding that it’s something that she could easily be affected by at any point,  not just if she’s upset.  the other people closest to her don’t quite understand that yet,  and she didn’t realize that until asher offered her the phone.  it meant something to her that she can’t put into words for him,  but he’s the only person looking out for her in not just a protective way,  but in a way that she has been needing but doesn’t know how to ask for.  he just gets her without questioning it,  and that’s so rare for olivia.  that’s why she’s drawn to him.  

olivia isn’t used to being the girl someone likes.  she’s used to people ignoring her in favor for her best friend layla.  she was oblivious to the crush that asher had clearly developed on her because everything she did for him / with him was based on how much she cared for him as a friend.  all the ‘ hints ‘ we’ve gotten at them being together were perceived differently between olivia and people on the outside  —-  particularly her grabbing his hand + putting her head on his shoulder after his mother left.  that was based on who she is as a friend,  not who she is as someone who had feelings for asher.  these are moves she makes to all of the people she’s closed to when she’s trying to show them they’re not alone ——  to jordan,  to her mother and father,  to spencer,  to layla,  etc.  it wasn’t romantic,  but the more time they spent together + the more that asher was willing to be vulnerable in front of her and completely honest and so much himself in a way he wasn’t willing to be around anyone else,  it started to make her see him in a different light.  but she didn’t let herself think about it too much because she didn’t expect him to feel that way about her,  so she ignored it.  it wasn’t until layla interrupted them and kissed him in front of her that she realized layla saw something that olivia didn’t,  and that’s that olivia was starting to feel something for him.  layla was trying to hurt her and olivia finally understood what she really felt —— and once she heard the reasoning for his birthday present,  and the longer she was forced to think about their almost kiss,  she was sure how she felt,  she just wasn’t sure if this was something they should actually give into until she saw him the next day.

right now,  they’re the best suited people for each other.  they’re both in a good spot,  which is a huge difference from where they were when they first hooked up.  they’ve both grown as people and they’re both actively working on bettering themselves  ——-  and a lot of that success comes from the fact that the other is constantly supporting them.  olivia with his drinking,  getting him back on the team,  finding him a place to live,  getting his father healthy & helping him and asher work on their relationship,  facing his estranged mother with him,  etc.  asher with the way he knew to watch her as she went through a hard time with her parents’ split and stopped her from relapsing,  then made sure she had a way of contacting her sponsor while she didn’t have a phone,  and made sure she saw that someone was thinking of her in a time when she had been unnecessarily burnt by the people closest to her,  etc.  this is not a ship i expected to want,  but after the way they’ve treated each other with so much respect and care,  in a way that they’re not necessarily getting from anyone else  (  they’re getting it,  but it’s much deeper / consistent with each other right now  )  it’s the best thing for them right now.  i think olivia is still hesitant to get into a relationship,  because she wasn’t ready when she got into one with chris and that hadn’t worked out + asher is someone so important to her and she’s definitely scared of ruining things with him,  but she knows it’s worth the shot because he has shown her how much he cares + how well he understands her in a way that she has been screaming for people to do the same,  and that’s so important for her right now.

[tawneybel]

Because I mentioned I was going to eventually get rid of my old shower curtain, my mom surprised me and got me an Edward Gorey one. Gashlycrumb Tinies! 

One of the recent ghost books on ghost I read mostly just (intentionally or not) taught me how to fake spooky sh*t at seances but in the entry on mirrors it mentioned looking into one at night was considered bad luck. But that’s kind of hard to avoid. I already knew using candlelight to look into a mirror is considered to be unlucky but I think a cellphone’s flashlight doesn’t count. Anyway, going to the bathroom at night is going to be spookier. :D 

Life’s been kind of hectic lately, mostly due to things outside of my control. I want to get a new job this summer. And fix my sleeping schedule. I’ve been getting stress dreams again for the first time in a while. I don’t count a bad dream as a nightmare unless I wake up terrified but it still sucks. Going to ask my doctor if melatonin is a good idea.  

My dog (see above) had a nasty cough after getting knocked out for some dental surgery, which is supposed to be normal, but it lasted for a while so we took her to the vet. And it turns out that the reason she was scratching on my door every night to be let outside was because of a UTI. She’s doing better now. 

Mm, there’s a lot more things to talk about but I’ll save that for another post. 

The Dark Knight: There was a scene where a bunch of men got their uniforms stolen and they were tied up and g*gged. I watched the trilogy out of order. To be honest, I get kind of bored watching these but the villains are cool. Bane’s darling but now that I’ve seen Venom I prefer Eddie Brock. Jonathan Crane is kind of cute, too. 

Now I finally get why people like the Joker so much. He gives not a single f*ck. So many things could go wrong at any moment during his plans, he relies so much on luck, but he has so much confidence. I feel like if tried to slide down a hill of money I would hurt myself. The best scene was the Joker walking quickly out and away from the hospital. Also, the bank heist in the beginning. 

Crimson Peak started to get good when Edith and Lucille were having the butterfly discussion and ended up being better paced than I thought it would be. But after Carter got his head smashed in, I’m not sure why Edith would go with Thomas after that. 

Gothic horror is actually fun to learn about in school because the genre’s progenitors would probably be into yandere and monster f*cking. It’s like... In the first art history class I took, we were looking at Renaissance paintings and there was a fair amount of stuff with a de*th and the maiden motif. The modern equivalent would be a lot of metal album covers.

Brain Damage: I was looking for infestation movies and I’m so glad I stumbled upon this. Not because it’s particularly good but ‘cause the MC is super cute. Basically the talking leechy thing pumps Brian full of an addictive fluid through the the back of his neck and they have a faux symbiotic relationship where Aylmer gorily eats other people’s brains.

There was a scene where Brian’s brother answers the phone lying on his stomach in his und*rwear. Followed by a scene where Brian takes his pants off and you see his t*sh. Also a very brief M/F/M thr*some dream that gets gruesome real quick. 

The Stuff: If you’re into The Blob, you’ll probably like this. The mode of killing is a bit different. Stuff’s alive and controls people from the inside. 

A Cure for Wellness: Shout out to his movie for showing n*ked/scantily clad old people without getting weird about it. Within the first half hour I was surprised when it didn’t do well at the box office. The visuals draw you in but it was probably too long and could have been better. I wasn’t expecting to it get kind of fantastical. It’s got existentialism, surrealism, mystery... Uhhhh... I’m not sure whether to classify it as fantasy or sci fi. 

Venom: Hits so many k*nks. Dan’s cute, Anne has good taste in men. Carlton Drake gets symbioted. Actually, I’m not sure if he or Eddie is sexier. The first guy to get possessed in the Eminem video is also cute. Best line is Venom saying, “Look at her. She has no idea we are going to get her back.” The Rorschach-like ending credits were cool. 

Sleepaway Camp: Before I watched this, I already knew the ending. Sort of. To be honest, I expected “Angela” to be an offensive portrayal of a trans woman but the situation was more like David Reimer, minus g*nital m*tilation. The ending itself... Aunt Martha may not have gone on a murder spree but she’s the scariest person in the film. Otherwise I wouldn’t have said there’s anything terribly special about this film. Based on the synopsis of the sequel, I’m probably not going to watch the rest of the franchise. 

Hell Fest: Pretty typical modern slasher but the atmosphere is great. It was also funny. I’m just gonna use bullet points for this.

“You know what? He deserves at least some dignity after death.” “Let’s give him a b*ner.” 

When asked if he mentioned something about having a f*tish for p*ddles, Gavin answers, “I have never said that in my entire life.”

Why did Asher get hotter while he was struggling and getting stabbed in the eyeball?

It took me a minute to recognize Tony Todd. Sad. 

Men in Black II: At no point in the film did Serleena, who is capable of transformation and has tentacles, transform into a male und*rwear model. :’( 

Fullmetal Alchemist: (The manga.) A military fantasy that raises some good questions about ethics. And dat solar aesthetic. The chimera designs were so cool. Envy is a cruel, skimpily dressed shapeshifter with a grotesque “true form” and Lin gets willingly possessed by Greed. So that’s right up my alley. 

Break My Heart 1,000 Times: Good time to read this. It takes place in February. Read this because I Still See You has Richard Harmon. The book started off decently but I didn’t like the protagonist’s behavior near the end of part three. And there’s some sexism. Like hysterically slapping her love interest and blaming herself for not having any weapons in her room because she’s a girl. Seriously, I keep a bigass King James Bible on my nightstand. If anyone breaks in, they’re getting brained by the Good Book. Or a lamp. Or the nightstand itself. But hopefully my dog would maul an intruder first. 

Christine: Wasn’t really into it but you might be if you’re into corruption, e.g. a nerdy guy becoming slightly more physically appealing jerk*ss. 

The 100: I got teary-eyed when Clarke and Lexa were saying goodbye and then the latter accidentally gets short. Poor Murphy can’t catch a break, as usual. Started season four the other day. 

Hostel: DUMB REASON TO GO “OUT OF BOUNDS”, FELLAS.

Going into this, I thought I’d like Jay Hernandez’s character the most but then I found the other guys cuter until the end then I really liked Paxton. Weirdly enough, I found Alexei cute. There’s decent whump but I’m not into v*mit. 

I think I saw an ad with the guy who tortured Paxton when I was in elementary school but I mistook it for something from one of the Saw movies. This was obviously before I had any interest in watching these kinds of movies. XD  

Songs of the Day: I’ve been listening to a lot of Dead inside the Chrysalis/Dedderz lately... I’m crushing on Manek Deboto. He should be the one wearing a th*ng in the She’s So Rad music vid! If they ever do  “He’s So Rad” they should include Elm Street’s Jesse Walsh and Brian from Brain Damage...

[purpleshellsforyou]

The Room

Daddy Jefferson

Part 5 of 7

Original writer (@yrs-forevr) version here!

TW: Period-typical Sexism (ish)

AN: My dumb ass forgot I already wrote this. 

Time: Hamiltime

Word Count: 1777

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5- you're here!| 6 | E

Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Letters from Alexander Hamilton had been coming in every day now, insisting that Thomas consider supporting his debt plan. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to see the multitude of papers arriving at his office but it was Hamilton, so he had come to expect it. Jefferson didn’t reply often, but that never stopped Alexander from continuing on the warpath of spreading his argumentative opinions.

The best part of Thomas’s week was when Asher ran into his office every Thursday to tell him that lunch was ready. Today the two-year-old practically bounded into the room, his face lighting up at the sight of his somewhat-adoptive father. The paperwork had never been filled out to make him a legal guardian, but he fathered him as if he had.

Asher was wearing a little blue coat that almost ran to his ankles. The color of the fabric was barely lighter than his blue-gray eyes. He was always so happy around this time of day. Y/N, Asher, and Thomas always visited the graveyard on Thursdays with a picnic lunch. Of course, the young boy didn’t really understand death yet, but he knew who his father was and why he could never come and visit. All he really recognized was that he got to spend some time eating outside with his family.

“Daddy, come on! Mamma says that it’s time to go!”

“I’ll be right there, Ash.”

“Okay! Momma helped me write a letter to Papa today! She said that if we leave it in front of the rock door, then he could read it.”

He had a goofy grin on his face that could only stay with innocence. It took everything in Jefferson not to jump up from the desk and lift Ash up in the air, playing and giggling as they went to go to lunch. Growing up in a big family, Thomas never felt alone amongst his siblings. He wanted Asher to feel the same sense of family, an assurance that he would never be alone. The Jefferson siblings, specifically his brother, visited on occasion, but never stayed long. None of them approved of his choice to live with an unmarried woman and her son. None of their critiques were worse than those in his own head.

He’s not even your son, really. You wouldn’t be a good father anyway. Think of all the women you used. If it didn’t happen then, it wasn’t meant to happen. Give it up, you’ll never be a good father, let alone a good husband.

He shook off his thoughts, faking a smile as he playfully shooed the boy from the room, promising to be down in a minute. He turned his attention to the last page he told himself he would finish before the picnic. The ink in his quill felt thinner than it was before the welcome interruption. His older brother’s words echoed in his mind:

Don’t fool yourself. You’ve grown up strong. Get power, and the happiness will follow. Men don’t love, Thomas. They take.

“I will discuss it with Madison, but I cannot make you any promises, Alexander. As amusing as it is to see you beg before me like a lost dog, I cannot set aside my values, nor can I speak for James.”

“This debt plan must be passed, Jefferson. This country needs it passed.”

“You always want everything to go through. Sorry, Washington isn’t going out of his way to make sure you get everything you want.”

Thomas stepped back through the front doorway, making a move like he was about to shut the door on Hamilton. He was truly feeling desperate to come and ask Thomas Jefferson for help. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’, but one of ‘how far are you willing to go?’.

“Wait.”

“What?” the democratic-republican snapped.

“What if you got something out of it?”

Thomas sneered back at the man: “I’m not the one that needs something out of it.”

“We can negotiate something. Something that can help the Southern states.”

“The South doesn’t need your hel-

“Please.”

Jefferson paused, thinking about what he and Y/N had been teaching Asher the previous night. Although you may not agree with everyone, listening and being polite can be the most important part to changing their mind. Breathing in through his clenched teeth, Thomas seethed:

“Come over Sunday night at 5 pm. We can talk then.”

Hamilton smirked and nodded before he turned back to his carriage. Jefferson rolled his eyes and slowly let out a full breath, finally closing the door. This wasn’t going to be fun. Now he had to go see Madison and, more importantly, he hated bringing work home. His house was, with the exception of his office, somewhere that he didn’t have to be a politician.

Sunday dragged along as a fury of angry conversation wracked the halls of the Jefferson residence. James had agreed to join Thomas for dinner, but he knew something was wrong when he was the only one to show up at the front door. When Thomas ushered him inside and explained the situation, there was nothing stopping the bickering.

It was unusual for Thomas to request that Y/N not speak with him, but it was painfully clear that he didn’t want to prevent her or Asher from joining him in the first place. It was all too likely that whatever was to be exchanged was not going to be appropriate for Asher to hear in the first place. It was decided that they would all go out together the next day to make up for the evening and, with any stroke of luck, celebrate.

Y/N had taken her less than enthusiastic son upstairs, promising mac and cheese to encourage him to come upstairs. He bounded up alongside her, but not before turning around to wave at Thomas as he turned the corner.

Place cards had been set around an old oak table and courses for the meeting had been determined- all standard for political gatherings. However unconventional it may be, Jefferson tried to set things in a good light by separating his home life from the shared political discourse.

James was still grumbling his disdain for the meeting as Alexander arrive. As the three politicians made their way to the dining room, they attempted to discreetly size one another up. The air, an intoxicating mixture of parchment and cheese, hung heavily over them lazily. The first course has been set out on the table for their arrival. Every movement from the men was strategic, a test of where the power in the room was held. As the dining room doors thumped closed behind them, the atmosphere only grew more stiflingly uncomfortable.

It was an hour later when a side door into the room creaked open. The pitter patter of small feet entered, unaware of what they had just interrupted. The politicians paused their conversation, looking up from the documents they were assessing to see the two-year-old hop up onto a chair and reach for the bowl of mac n’ cheese.

Jefferson was the first to break the silence.

“Asher, what are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

The boy looked up, some cheese sauce stuck around his mouth.

“Mama fell asweep.”

“She fell asleep?”

“Mmh Hmm. She was reading the book you made again, but she stopped and went to sweep. I know because she’s breathing loud again.”

Hamilton glanced to Madison, wondering what his take on this was. If he expected a reaction from James, he didn’t get much of one. All he really looked like was a man trying to hold in a cough.

“Alright, little soldier. Let’s get you to bed. You need to have lots of dreams so you have energy for all the fun we’re going to have tomorrow with your mom.”

Asher’s eyes lit up with excitement and happily took Thomas’s hand to lead him upstairs.

Alexander looked like someone had slapped him in the face. James turned his focus to Hamilton, seemingly unaffected by Asher’s appearance.

“For your debt plan to have the slightest hope of passing-”

“I didn’t know he could act so fatherly.”

Unsure of what to say, Madison pulled out his handkerchief and quietly coughed a few times. He had seen Thomas with Asher several times, taking him to see his office or meet new people when Y/N needed a little time to herself.  Alexander still appeared to be tripping on his tongue, clearly thinking out what he wanted to say next. He opened his mouth several times before deciding to say;

“I thought Jefferson was more of a… um… catch-and-release type guy.”

“He was.”

“He isn’t now?”

James smiled cryptically before he answered “If I would have once called him a player in the game of lust, I would now say that he has traded his spades for hearts.”

“I never considered Jefferson one to fall for love.”

Hamilton looked perplexed and somewhat calmer, but Madison was clearly displeased with his comment. There was no mistaking the subtle venom in his voice as he quipped “Many would say the same of you, Alexander. Greed and lust leave a man far more vulnerable than love ever could. Although he may not be the man you thought you knew, he is a better father than you imagined him to be. All he is doing is trying to be there for a boy without a father, a position he has filled wholeheartedly.”

For the first time since the beginning of the meeting, the dining room was completely silent.

When Thomas found Y/N sitting on the rocking chair, he couldn’t help but grin at the small gray blanket that had been placed somewhat haphazardly over her legs and part of her abdomen. The person that tried to put it over her had clearly not been tall enough to reach, despite being on his tiptoes.

When Asher tugged at his hand questioningly, he focused his attention on getting him to go to sleep. Jefferson made sure to brush the little boy’s teeth- he had eaten again after all -and put his favorite stuffed animal in the bed with him.  As Asher finally fell asleep, Thomas went back over to Y/N.

She was sleeping so peacefully. It was rare that she got to sleep early, so Thomas took great care not to disturb her as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her across the hall. Y/N was in her nightclothes already, and he just slipped her into her own bed and closed the door behind him as he left, choosing not to acknowledge the warm feeling in his chest as he did so.

[asoftslytherin]

sweetener. ch. iv

a/n: *shrugs*

summary: you go to sirius’ place to talk. talking happens. amongst other things.

warnings: so i said at the beginning that i would not be writing smut but every chapter i get closer and closer, hopefully i’ll have a chidi in the bad place. there isn’t any actual sex, just touching of certain anatomical parts that may be uncomfortable for some people. if you wanna read anyways i placed these: 🌫🌫🌫 before and after the dirty stuff. swearing, a sprinkle of angst.

word count: 3.1k (2.8k w/o dirty stuff)

At about 8:30 you finally got out of bed, changed into your softest pair of leggings you owned and threw on a big t-shirt that you were comfortable in, but you knew you still looked cute. You hated that you were planning out your outfit to meet some guy you’d just met and hooked up with the night before. These things shouldn’t be that important! Looking up at the ceiling of your bedroom and sighing, you gave in to the lazy gods, put on a pair of sandals and walked to your car. Once you were actually sitting in your car, you realized that you had no idea where he lived. You knew it was an apartment complex, but couldn’t remember which one, as you were basically running out the door the second your phone said that your Uber had arrived. You texted him to ask, somewhat embarrassed for some reason. When he sent the address, your recognized the name of the complex, maybe you just used to know someone who used to live there. The entire drive over you were so nervous, you had to turn the A/C all the way up to keep yourself from sweating bullets and your power jam playlist going to keep you from turning around and going right back home. The nerves might have been from exhilaration or maybe they were “oh my god this guy is crazy hot and he wants to see me again” nerves; who’s to say?

You arrived at Sirius’ place right at nine. The apartment complex was easy enough to find and you kind of went on auto-pilot at some points. How many times had you been to this place to know how to get here so easily? You shook the feeling away, and parked the car, checking the apartment number again on your phone, noticing that his apartment was on the first floor. Ugh thank god, you thought. I genuinely don’t know if I can do stairs today. Walking up to the apartment number he gave you, you knocked on the door and waited for a minute. Nothing. You knocked again, harder this time. Nothing. You rolled your eyes, berating yourself for ever suggesting this and as turned to leave, and then the door opened.

There stood in front of you, a very wet, very shirtless Sirius, wearing only a towel. Fuck. “Sorry, love” he said breathily. “I was still in the shower when I heard you knock and tried to get decent as quick as I could. Come, come in,” he offered, standing to the side with one arm keeping the door open and the other extended into his apartment, welcoming you in.

Suddenly, you knew why you recognized his apartment complex, it was the same one that your shittiest ex, Asher, lived in. Sirius’ apartment was bigger, but the entryway and kitchen had the same layout. It was like getting flashbacks to things you tried so hard to forget that you actually ended up forgetting them, and now it’s all rushing back. You must have looked shocked or even dismayed when you walked in, seeing as Sirius had a concerned look on his face before asking, “You okay? Need some water? I know it’s not that clean,” he cringed, looking at his dish-filled sink.

You shook your head at him and put on the best smile you could. “No, no, I swear I’m fine. I- uh… I just realized that you live in the same complex as my ex and it kind of threw me through a loop there for a second. Guess I was a little too busy last night to get a good look” you half-heartedly laughed. When you realized you were still staring at nothing you blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it and proceeded to turn to Sirius who was still wearing a towel. You laughed to yourself and then met his eyes instead of staring at his cotton-covered crotch. “I also should have said in my text that I actually wanted to talk to you before we did anything.” Eyeing him up and down, you pushed yourself onto the kitchen island gently, setting yourself down as slowly as your arms would allow and letting your feet dangle off of the marble edge, allowing the coolness of the stone to provide some relief to your areas that were still hurting.

“And what exactly did you want to talk about,” Sirius said easily, moving himself so he was in-between your tender legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You rolled your eyes, tried your absolute hardest to keep your composure, and pushed him away. “Put on some pants, then we can talk.” As Sirius smirked and walked away, you looked at your phone to the texts you’d sent him. “Honestly, I should have seen this coming. This is partially my fault.”

“What’s your fault, love?” Sirius questioned when he walked back into the kitchen, now wearing a pair of sweatpants (Was that all he owned? Skinny jeans and sweatpants?) and using a towel, presumably the one that had previously been wrapped around his waist to dry off the remaining wet spots of his hair.

“It’s my fault for not realizing that the texts I sent made it seem like we were gonna bone the second you opened the door,” you smiled at him. “But, I do wanna set some ground rules if we’re gonna make this a thing,” you said sternly, letting your smile fall and sitting up straighter, attempting to make yourself look more serious.

“Ground rules? Other than, ‘no relationship, just sex’?” Sirius guffawed, walking over to his fridge and grabbing a beer for himself. “You want one?” he offered.

“No, I drove here and beer is disgusting,” you countered. “And yes, ground rules. I’ve tried this too many times with too many idiots, so this time I’m setting some ground rules.”

Sirius gave you a look of disbelief before shrugging and leaning on the counter. “Alright, darling. What are your rules?”

“For one, nothing in public. Cars are a maybe but that’s only if one of us is just having a really bad day and needs to bang it out ASAP and one of our cars is nearby.”

“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I drive a motorbike,” he stated with a cheshire cat smile on his face.

“Hard pass,” you looked down at him.

“Okay, fine then,” Sirius stood up straight again. “No random texts that you ‘miss me’ or whatever. The only context I’ll allow that in is if you miss sex with me, then something can be arranged.”

“Deal,” you nodded. “Go get some paper, we need to write this down.”

“Paper?! We’re fuck buddies, we don’t need a written agreement! What, are you gonna make me sign it?” Sirius said incredulously with a laugh.

“What? No. I’m just a slut for organization and I like having things written down.” You stared at him for a second before shooing him away with your hands, “Go! Go get some paper and a pen or something!”

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done for sex,” Sirius muttered before wandering off to another room and returning with a blank piece of paper and a pen.

“Not gonna lie,” you raised your eyebrows at him. “Definitely thought that was gonna take longer than it did.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.” Sirius took the pen and hastily wrote down the first two rules. “What’s your next stipulation?”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Oral sex has to be reciprocated! That’s a dealbreaker,” you almost shouted as you realized it and began eyeing him, pointing a finger in his direction.

“Is that not a thing people do?” Sirius inquired, a blank look on his face.

“Oh, Sirius, you sweet, summer child,” you put a hand on his shoulder, closed your eyes and shook your head. “You have no idea.”

“Okay fine,” Sirius laughed, writing down “bj=eating out” in scrawly writing. “Can we make this at least a weekly thing?” the man looked up at you and asked.

“Sure. At least once a week, I mean, it’ll probably be more than that-“

“Oh, trust me, it will be more than that,” Sirius bit his lower lip. “I think that’s enough rules for today,” he threw the pen down on the counter and walked around the kitchen island so he was in-between your legs again, but this time when his hands went around your waist, yours went around his neck. “How about we do what we both know needs to happen?”

“Even though I’m still sore from last night?” you queried.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered into your ear. Sending shivers down your spine.

“Prove it,” you challenged.

🌫🌫🌫

Sirius placed slow kisses up your neck, on your chin, next to your mouth, before reaching his destination. It started off slow, he would break away every now and then just to see the look of desire on your face. It wasn’t until you were directly pressed up against him and felt your tenderness on on his growing bulge that he quickened the pace. You were tugging at his hair as if it was a life raft and you were in the middle of the ocean. You needed him more than you had needed anything else in your entire life. He muffled an “Up” into one of the kisses, and you wrapped your legs around his bare waist while he carried you towards his bedroom. He slammed you up against a wall which resulted in a whimper of pain from you, “Shit, got carried away.”

In response, you began tugging on his hair even harder, wincing, “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” Sirius simply smiled before walking into his bedroom, bending over and softly lying your back on the bed. As Sirius was trying to get your shirt off this time being more conscious of the things that had transpired the night before and the effect that it can have on a person. While he was finagling with your bra, you took this opportunity to snake your hands into his sweatpants to run your fingertips across the head of his penis as lightly as you could.

Suddenly, he grabbed your hand, slowly pulled it out of his pants, and scowled down at you, his eyes dark with need. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Payback,” you smiled, pulling him down to you and kissing him again.

🌫🌫🌫

You breathed heavily, Sirius rolling off of you and flailing his arms out beside him, one hitting you in the boob. “Are you trying to make my whole body sore? Boobs are sensitive okay? Two minutes ago you were being super carefull not to hurt me, which I very much appreciated, and now you’re whackin’ my boob!” you laughed, leaning over and gently setting your lips on his, rolling back over to get out of bed and go to the bathroom.

“Wait, where are you off to?” Sirius asked, looking a little offended.

You paused, “Uh, the bathroom, and then I was gonna get dressed. Why?” You had a puzzled look on your face. No guy had ever questioned you getting out of bed after sex.

“I’ll allow you to go to the bathroom, but I’m implementing a rule that you have to stay in bed with me for at least five minutes before you leave,” he said sternly.

“Why?” You were very confused at this point.

“Because I like feeling your amazing body next to me and I’m a selfish person, as we’ve already established. So, go, and get back quick so I can touch you some more,” he waved you away with his hands as you ran to the bathroom.

Once you were under the covers with him once again, your head resting on his chest, a finger tracing a tattoo on his collarbone, you asked, “So is this like a cuddling thing?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with a guy wanting to keep touching the person he’s sleeping with, even if they’re not having sex? Your skin is so soft and so is your ass and my hand likes to be on your ass. You should be questioning my hand, not me,” he raised one of his hands in surrender, the other stayed put where it was.

“I’ll allow it, only because I really like what that hand was doing earlier,” you giggled.

He put his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer, kissing you softly. “Now it’s my turn to have to use the bathroom,” he mischievously grinned before running off to the bathroom.

As you were lying alone on the bed, feeling the remnant of the heat where he had been, you yelled, “Okay, I get it now, get back here, I’m cold!”

⭐️🌙⭐️

The next few weeks went on like that, usually you would go over to his place, he would occasionally come to your place if Marlene was out of the house. It worked really well. You were finally getting the satisfaction you needed with none of the annoying asshole to deal with. Plus, you were able to hang out with your friends together and not be weird about it, it was pretty much the perfect situation. The two of you did end up adding a few more rules, all of them sexual in nature, and it just made things even better.

Y/N 📲 Sirius

Y/N: i’m coming over Y/N: everybody at work decided it was asshole day and i need to get this aggression out

Sirius: i’m okay with this

Sirius 📲 Y/N

Sirius: get over here Sirius: asap

Y/N: is something wrong

Sirius: it’s my turn for people to be assholes Sirius: get that ass over here

Y/N 📲 Sirius

Y/N: marlene’s gone for the weekend Y/N: you know what that means?

Sirius: i’m getting dressed as fast as i can

Sirius 📲 Y/N

Sirius: get over here

Y/N: it’s 9am on a saturday and my bed’s really comfy, gimme a good reason

Sirius: we can spend the rest of the day sleeping at my place

Y/N: deal

One evening a couple months after you started this agreement, you and your newfound group of friends, essentially being included in hanging out with Lily, Marlene, and the three boys, decided to have a game night at Sirius’ apartment, he had the biggest dining table.

“I understand that you think I was using a throw away card, but you still should have given me the point,” Lily glared over to James.

“Why? ‘Bees?’ is the worst card in the deck!” James retorted.

“Excuse me, ‘Bees?’ is the best card in the deck!” Lily almost shouted back.

You thought you heard a faint “I have neighbors” coming from Sirius’ direction but between Lily and James’ continued shouting, nobody would have paid attention to it and you knew Sirius didn’t give a shit.

“Lily, I love you. But that card is garbage,” James said as calmly as he could.

Lily slammed her cards down on the table and stood up, almost knocking the chair over. “You know what?!” she yelled.

James did the exact same, except he actually managed to knock his chair over in the process. “You know what?!” he yelled back.

“You know what?” Remus said in a Mr. Rogers-esque voice with a forced smile plastered on his face. “I think it’s time we go home.”

Game nights usually ended like this, especially if it ended up with James going against what Lily wanted to do, with any game. The lot of you picked up the cards, put them back in the box and handed it back to Remus. It wasn’t originally his game, but he kept it at his house for security purposes. Everyone filed out of the apartment, saying their good-byes, Remus giving you a look as he closed the door, leaving you and Sirius alone.

“Whatever shall we do?” Sirius asked in a soft tone, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you down with him onto the chair he was sitting in, you on his lap.

“Sirius,” you whined. “I really, really want to but I have to get up early for a project at work. Like four a.m. early, so I actually need to sleep tonight.” You frowned, planting a quick kiss on his lips. “Once this project is over I will have free time once again!” You leaned your head back, imagining what it would be like to see your friends more than once a month, and Sirius more than just once a week. These were trying times.

“Y/N,” Sirius whispered into your ear. “The second that project is officially over, you come over here as fast as you can and I’m not letting you leave for at least three days.”

You whined again. “Can I have a time machine so I can get to that point without dealing with my colleagues?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sirius smiled, placing kiss on your temple.

“Okay,” you said, looking at the time on your phone and standing up from the man’s lap, “I actually have to leave now.” Sirius grabbed your arm trying to pull you back down with him. “You’re a terrible influence, I hope you know that.”

“I’ve known that for a while, love,” he stood up, kissing you as you walked backwards towards the door.

You felt around for the doorknob, and managed to open it right as Sirius began to pull you further into his place. “I gotta go,” you smiled, enjoying his eyes for a moment before you had to leave him again. Halfway out the door, he turned you back around for one last kiss, but before your lips touched, you heard a voice behind you.

“Well, look who it is.”

Turning around you saw Asher standing in the hallway, arms crossed, giving you a shit-eating grin.

“Do you need something?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip and looking away from blond asshole that stood before you. Today had been a good day and now Asher was here to fuck it up like he did just about everything.

Asher held up his hands, feigning innocence. “Just seeing what all the yelling was about,” he smirked beginning to walk away. “See you around, Y/N.” Before he fully turned around, he eyed you up and down, making you feel disgusting. You were gonna take two showers when you got home.

As you spun on your heel to leave, Sirius grabbed your hand. “You okay, love?” he said quietly, a look of concern on his face.

“I’m fine,” you sighed. “You just had the pleasure of meeting the shitty ex.” You rubbed your temple with your free hand and tried to calm yourself down.

Sirius pulled the hand he was holding towards him and put his arms around you. “It’s gonna be okay, he’s just a prick. It’ll be fine,” he whispered into your hair.

After standing there for a brief moment, you pulled away, sadly kissed Sirius and walked home, feeling a little calmer, but unsure.

a/n: believe it or not i edited the ending about ten different times thinking i would make it shorter, but here we are. also they definitely were’t playing cah what are you talking about. feedback is nice if u feel like it. good or bad, i don’t give a shit. night night.

💖-ella

[purpleshellsaremyfavorite]

The Room

Daddy Jefferson

Part 5 of 7

Jay (@yrs-forevr) x Thomas Jefferson

Reader insert version here!!

TW: Period-typical Sexism (ish)

Time: Hamiltime

Word Count: 1777

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5- you're here!| 6 | E

Letters from Alexander Hamilton had been coming in every day now, insisting that Thomas consider supporting his debt plan. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to see the multitude of papers arriving at his office but it was Hamilton, so he had come to expect it. Jefferson didn’t reply often, but that never stopped Alexander from continuing on the warpath of spreading his argumentative opinions.

The best part of Thomas’s week was when Asher ran into his office every Thursday to tell him that lunch was ready. Today the two-year-old practically bounded into the room, his face lighting up at the sight of his somewhat-adoptive father. The paperwork had never been filled out to make him a legal guardian, but he fathered him as if he had.

Asher was wearing a little blue coat that almost ran to his ankles. The color of the fabric was barely lighter than his blue-gray eyes. He was always so happy around this time of day. Jay, Asher, and Thomas always visited the graveyard on Thursdays with a picnic lunch. Of course, the young boy didn’t really understand death yet, but he knew who his father was and why he could never come and visit. All he really recognized was that he got to spend some time eating outside with his family.

“Daddy, come on! Mamma says that it’s time to go!”

“I’ll be right there, Ash.”

“Okay! Momma helped me write a letter to Papa today! She said that if we leave it in front of the rock door, then he could read it.”

He had a goofy grin on his face that could only stay with innocence. It took everything in Jefferson not to jump up from the desk and lift Ash up in the air, playing and giggling as they went to go to lunch. Growing up in a big family, Thomas never felt alone amongst his siblings. He wanted Asher to feel the same sense of family, an assurance that he would never be alone. The Jefferson siblings, specifically his brother, visited on occasion, but never stayed long. None of them approved of his choice to live with an unmarried woman and her son. None of their critiques were worse than those in his own head.

He’s not even your son, really. You wouldn’t be a good father anyway. Think of all the women you used. If it didn’t happen then, it wasn’t meant to happen. Give it up, you’ll never be a good father, let alone a good husband.

He shook off his thoughts, faking a smile as he playfully shooed the boy from the room, promising to be down in a minute. He turned his attention to the last page he told himself he would finish before the picnic. The ink in his quill felt thinner than it was before the welcome interruption. His older brother’s words echoed in his mind:

Don’t fool yourself. You’ve grown up strong. Get power, and the happiness will follow. Men don’t love, Thomas. They take.

“I will discuss it with Madison, but I cannot make you any promises, Alexander. As amusing as it is to see you beg before me like a lost dog, I cannot set aside my values, nor can I speak for James.”

“This debt plan must be passed, Jefferson. This country needs it passed.”

“You always want everything to go through. Sorry, Washington isn’t going out of his way to make sure you get everything you want.”

Thomas stepped back through the front doorway, making a move like he was about to shut the door on Hamilton. He was truly feeling desperate to come and ask Thomas Jefferson for help. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’, but one of ‘how far are you willing to go?’.

“Wait.”

“What?” the democratic-republican snapped.

“What if you got something out of it?”

Thomas sneered back at the man: “I’m not the one that needs something out of it.”

“We can negotiate something. Something that can help the Southern states.”

“The South doesn’t need your hel-

“Please.”

Jefferson paused, thinking about what he and Jay had been teaching Asher the previous night. Although you may not agree with everyone, listening and being polite can be the most important part to changing their mind. Breathing in through his clenched teeth, Thomas seethed:

“Come over Sunday night at 5 pm. We can talk then.”

Hamilton smirked and nodded before he turned back to his carriage. Jefferson rolled his eyes and slowly let out a full breath, finally closing the door. This wasn’t going to be fun. Now he had to go see Madison and, more importantly, he hated bringing work home. His house was, with the exception of his office, somewhere that he didn’t have to be a politician.

Sunday dragged along as a fury of angry conversation wracked the halls of the Jefferson residence. James had agreed to join Thomas for dinner, but he knew something was wrong when he was the only one to show up at the front door. When Thomas ushered him inside and explained the situation, there was nothing stopping the bickering.

It was unusual for Thomas to request that Jay not speak with him, but it was painfully clear that he didn’t want to prevent her or Asher from joining him in the first place. It was all too likely that whatever was to be exchanged was not going to be appropriate for Asher to hear in the first place. It was decided that they would all go out together the next day to make up for the evening and, with any stroke of luck, celebrate.

Jay had taken her less than enthusiastic son upstairs, promising mac and cheese to encourage him to come upstairs. He bounded up alongside her, but not before turning around to wave at Thomas as he turned the corner.

Place cards had been set around an old oak table and courses for the meeting had been determined- all standard for political gatherings. However unconventional it may be, Jefferson tried to set things in a good light by separating his home life from the shared political discourse.

James was still grumbling his disdain for the meeting as Alexander arrive. As the three politicians made their way to the dining room, they attempted to discreetly size one another up. The air, an intoxicating mixture of parchment and cheese, hung heavily over them lazily. The first course has been set out on the table for their arrival. Every movement from the men was strategic, a test of where the power in the room was held. As the dining room doors thumped closed behind them, the atmosphere only grew more stiflingly uncomfortable.

It was an hour later when a side door into the room creaked open. The pitter patter of small feet entered, unaware of what they had just interrupted. The politicians paused their conversation, looking up from the documents they were assessing to see the two-year-old hop up onto a chair and reach for the bowl of mac n’ cheese.

Jefferson was the first to break the silence.

“Asher, what are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

The boy looked up, some cheese sauce stuck around his mouth.

“Mama fell asweep.”

“She fell asleep?”

“Mmh Hmm. She was reading the book you made again, but she stopped and went to sweep. I know because she’s breathing loud again.”

Hamilton glanced to Madison, wondering what his take on this was. If he expected a reaction from James, he didn’t get much of one. All he really looked like was a man trying to hold in a cough.

“Alright, little soldier. Let’s get you to bed. You need to have lots of dreams so you have energy for all the fun we’re going to have tomorrow with your mom.”

Asher’s eyes lit up with excitement and happily took Thomas’s hand to lead him upstairs.

Alexander looked like someone had slapped him in the face. James turned his focus to Hamilton, seemingly unaffected by Asher’s appearance.

“For your debt plan to have the slightest hope of passing-”

“I didn’t know he could act so fatherly.”

Unsure of what to say, Madison pulled out his handkerchief and quietly coughed a few times. He had seen Thomas with Asher several times, taking him to see his office or meet new people when Jay needed a little time to herself.  Alexander still appeared to be tripping on his tongue, clearly thinking out what he wanted to say next. He opened his mouth several times before deciding to say;

“I thought Jefferson was more of a… um… catch-and-release type guy.”

“He was.”

“He isn’t now?”

James smiled cryptically before he answered, “If I would have once called him a player in the game of lust, I would now say that he has traded his spades for hearts.”

“I never considered Jefferson one to fall for love.”

Hamilton looked perplexed and somewhat calmer, but Madison was clearly displeased with his comment. There was no mistaking the subtle venom in his voice as he quipped “Many would say the same of you, Alexander. Greed and lust leave a man far more vulnerable than love ever could. Although he may not be the man you thought you knew, he is a better father than you imagined him to be. All he is doing is trying to be there for a boy without a father, a position he has filled wholeheartedly.”

For the first time since the beginning of the meeting, the dining room was completely silent.

When Thomas found Jay sitting on the rocking chair, he couldn’t help but grin at the small gray blanket that had been placed somewhat haphazardly over her legs and part of her abdomen. The person that tried to put it over her had clearly not been tall enough to reach, despite being on his tiptoes.

When Asher tugged at his hand questioningly, he focused his attention on getting him to go to sleep. Jefferson made sure to brush the little boy’s teeth- he had eaten again after all -and put his favorite stuffed animal in the bed with him.  As Asher finally fell asleep, Thomas went back over to Jay.

She was sleeping so peacefully. It was rare that she got to sleep early, so Thomas took great care not to disturb her as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her across the hall. Jay was in her nightclothes already, and he just slipped her into her own bed and closed the door behind him as he left, choosing not to acknowledge the warm feeling in his chest as he did so.

[waywaydowninside]

A Rock and Roll Affair

Dear friends, I’m excited to share with you my first attempt at Robert Plant fan fiction.

Thank you @callmethehunter for your amazing support throughout the writing process.  Thank you for the marathon conversations and for helping me work through all the little details.  This is a better chapter because of your friendship and encouragement.

Thank you also @firethatgrewsolow for sharing your wisdom and experience. You inspire me to be a better writer.

Chapter 1

“Back in the USA”

 October

 1976

It may be rainin’

But there’s a rainbow above you

You better let somebody love you

Before it’s too late

Southern California sunsets were his favorite.  But there was something mysterious in the way the sun sank below the horizon on this side of the world. The ocean was hungrier, swallowing the sun selfishly, absorbing its beauty and power and this made him feel vulnerable.  It was why he preferred watching alone.  He found himself rushing from New York to Los Angeles for a few moments of solitude before he had to be at the premiere.  It had been an unusually rainy day in L.A. and the traffic was backed up on the Santa Monica Freeway.  He noticed that Southern California drivers lost their focus when it rained and it annoyed Robert that a simple change in the weather could cause such chaos for the locals.  He didn’t want chaos.  Not tonight. The New York premiere had gone well earlier that week.  All the right people showed up to celebrate Led Zeppelin’s foray into movie stardom. David Bowie, Mick and Bianca Jagger, Carly Simon and James Taylor, several Atlantic Records recording artists, and an array of the foremost musicians and songwriters in the business.  After nearly two years of enduring the nightmare of making a movie about the biggest rock and roll band in world, the nightmare was still not over. He was expected to continue playing the part of the Hollywood Conqueror, and he wanted to enjoy himself, even just for a moment, before anyone else had a chance to trash the film.

He meditated on the healing sounds of the waves crashing against the surf.  A natural environment always centered him amidst the constant demands of being Robert Plant.  It wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy being the center of attention.  He did enjoy it.  In fact, he needed it.  Up to a point.  But he also needed time alone to reflect and get his head together.  People could be so exhausting, constantly wanting something, anything, from him.  Most of the time he was ready and willing to give of himself, but this was different.   He didn’t enjoy dealing with “film people” as he called them.  It was so much easier and simpler when it was just the music, the band, and the adoration of the fans--especially the female fans. Nothing made him get off more than seeing so many young girls compete for his attention, and he loved it.  He had to admit though, that he sometimes felt a little guilty that he enjoyed watching them do whatever it took to get near him. He adored women, but these girls were far too young to have experienced anything worth sharing beyond a few moments of lust.

He sank his toes into the sand a little deeper and took another drag from his cigarette.  The phone on the patio had been ringing on and off for the past several minutes, but he ignored it.  They would wait.  They always did.  He finally exhaled deeply and headed back towards the bungalow, running up the stone steps two at a time, but the pain in his ankle forced him to slow down.  He reached the terrace and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Robert answered. It was his manager, Peter Grant.

“Robert!  Why, the fuck, aren’t you here yet?”

“There’s plenty of time, G. Don’t worry.  I’ll be there.”

“Well you better get over here.  Jimmy keeps asking for you.  I had to track down your fucking phone number.  Why didn’t you just stay here at the hotel?”

“Ah, it’s just a little bit too close for comfort, you know?  And don’t worry.  I’m paying for this myself.”

“Quit fucking around and get your ass down here, alright?  We’re driving over to the theater together.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving right now.”

The limousine pulled up to the curb of the Fox Theater on Wilshire in Beverly Hills, and a small gathering of Led Zeppelin fans cheered as each member of the band emerged. Smiling and waving, they quickly walked into the lobby. Robert, Jimmy, John Paul, and the drummer, affectionately known as “Bonzo,” posed enthusiastically for photographers.  Swan Song and Atlantic Records had organized a movie premiere unlike any other for a rock and roll band.  Even by Hollywood standards, this was a high-end production.  The landmark Fox Theater had hosted premieres for Hollywood stars of the 1950s like Marilyn Monroe, Lauren Bacall, and Betty Grable. And, as an added feature, the auditorium was constructed to achieve perfect sound reception, a detail Jimmy Page insisted upon due to the serious flaws in the film’s sound mixing.  Jimmy, more than anyone, understood the impact of a good production, and he was hoping the fanfare surrounding “The Song Remains the Same” would dazzle people into believing the film was a success.

Hollywood paparazzi clamored to get a money-shot of Robert and Jimmy doing nothing more than sitting in their seats and this caused a long delay to the start of the film. Meanwhile, VIP ticket-holders slowly filtered into the theater.  The guest list for the Los Angeles premiere and after-party was as star-studded as it was in New York.  It was a who’s who of California rock luminaries, including Gram Parsons, Jackson Browne, David Geffen, and the most celebrated of them all—Linda Ronstadt—who was personally invited by Jimmy at Robert’s insistence.  Led Zeppelin had been in New York the previous December, and Robert and Jimmy had planned to attend one of Linda’s concerts with the guitarist Joe Walsh.  Robert was especially looking forward to meeting her, but in the end, the two guitarists went without him because he had wandered off to Greenwich Village after a girl, and Jimmy refused to wait.  So, after almost a year, Robert would finally get to meet Linda Ronstadt.  He surveyed the crowded theater and saw her walk towards her seat with her producer, Peter Asher and Atlantic Records President, Ahmet Ertegun.  Robert decided he would ask Ahmet to introduce him to Linda at the premiere party later that night.

During the hectic final days of her recent American tour, Linda was quite surprised to get a call from Jimmy Page.  Although she found him attractive and smart, he was also curiously shy.  She didn’t think she made much of an impression on him when her old friend Joe Walsh brought him backstage to meet her last year in New York.  He was very complimentary and seemed to know a lot about her music.  “I’m a huge fan,” he had told her.  She thanked him and recounted funny stories about her band constantly listening to Led Zeppelin on the road, which inspired Jimmy’s signature toothy grin.  What she didn’t tell him, what she was embarrassed to tell him, was that she only really knew two or three of their songs.  She thought Robert Plant had a unique vocal register, but didn’t mention it to Jimmy because she knew how competitive and jealous rock stars could be. When they parted, Joe made her promise they’d go to a Led Zeppelin concert together.  “You haven’t really experienced Zeppelin until you’ve seen them live,” was the last thing she recalled him saying as he and Jimmy waved goodbye.

Jimmy’s call had come through while Linda was at home giving an interview to Rolling Stone Magazine about her Grammy nomination.  Her friend and lead guitarist Andrew Gold, the instigator of all the Led Zeppelin sing-a-long sessions on tour, urged her to take the call because “Jimmy Fucking Page” wanted to speak to her.  He had called to personally invite her to the premiere of “The Song Remains the Same” in Beverly Hills later that month, and she graciously accepted.  So, she made her way to a gilded movie theater full of famous musicians and actors and waited to see what all the fuss was about. She again recalled what Joe had told her last year, “You haven’t really experienced Zeppelin until you’ve seen them live.”  Members of her band also praised Led Zeppelin’s live performances and marveled at their songwriting and musicianship.  But Linda wasn’t as enthusiastic about hard rock as she was about classic rock and roll.  In her experience, rock bands had far too much ego and not enough substance.  In the weeks before the premiere, Andrew made her listen to several Led Zeppelin albums because, as he said, “You don’t want the greatest rock guitarist of all time to regret inviting you to his big bash.” She thought he was making a big deal over her lukewarm attitude toward the band, but she went along with it because Andrew was a loyal friend and talented guitarist in his own right, who always made her sound great on stage.

The movie premiere program in Linda’s hand claimed the world was getting “a front row seat experience of the most exciting and durable of rock groups.”  She thought that was an overstatement—not only because it was arrogant to make such a bold claim this early in their career, but because she knew that a filmed concert was a poor substitute for a live performance. Still, Jimmy’s invitation to such an important event was thoughtful and generous and, as a professional, she was willing to give these guys the benefit of the doubt.  The curtain went up, the house lights dimmed, and just before it went completely dark, she thought, “I really should have gone to see them live before today.”

Thirty minutes into the film, Linda regretted her indifference toward the band. They were incredibly charismatic on stage—especially the lead singer, Robert Plant.  She recognized the third song and squinted in the dark to see the name of it listed in the program.  It was “Since I’ve Been Loving You,” a soulful rock and roll reimagination of a classic blues song.  It became clear to her that Led Zeppelin was not your average rock band, and Robert Plant was not your average front man.  He was also a talented blues singer who had exquisite command of his vocal range and used his entire body to interpret the song.  She couldn’t think of any other male singer who used his hands so provocatively. They were big hands, masculine, yet his gestures were so delicate.  It made her pay close attention to the rest of his body. His bare chest.  His long arms and legs.  His cock.  “That’s a huge fucking cock,” she thought, “and it’s magnified on a 50-foot movie screen.” She tightened her grip on the armrest and tried to focus on the music but it wasn’t easy because the film director was clearly so enamored with his star, that he made sure to photograph his stunning visage in the best light and get plenty of close-ups of his dick.  But Robert Plant was more than just a pretty face and body.  He could truly sing, and he understood how to convey a song no matter the genre and that was thrilling to the hard-core musician in her.

Linda sat attentively through the rest of the film, enjoying the music, chuckling quietly during the fantasy sequences, and made a mental note to ask Robert about his unconventional Prince Charming vignette.  She wondered how similar the on-stage Robert was to the Robert she would meet and couldn’t help comparing his stage presence to other performers she knew, including her friend Mick Jagger.  He had a vibrant and sexy on-stage persona.  It was one of the many things she liked about him.  Mick had wanted to fuck her, and she recalled how she turned him down.  Twice.  She thought he was exciting and smart, but the sexual chemistry just wasn’t there for her. There were rumors about the two of them, but theirs was strictly an artistic love affair.  She watched Robert perform the final song, “Whole Lotta Love” and, although the film had captured him in the early phase of his singing career, she knew that he had already taken rock and roll performances to a new level. He was unmatched.  Dare she think, not even The King, Elvis Presley, projected that much sexual magnetism on stage--mostly because Elvis’ performances had become caricatures of himself.   He was an actor playing the part of Elvis Presley—he just happened to be Elvis Presley. Robert also played a part, but his sexuality was raw and genuine, and Linda wanted to learn more about this unique man.

The Bistro in Beverly Hills attracted the crème de la crème of Hollywood, the West Coast music industry and Washington political players which was precisely why Atlantic chose the restaurant for the after-party.  Ahmet Ertegun was determined to legitimize Led Zeppelin’s position as the greatest rock and roll band in the world.  Celebrating their latest achievement in established, power-broker territory was one way to achieve that goal.  Every detail inside the restaurant was carefully planned to create an atmosphere of wealth and a blend of Old Hollywood grandeur and European sophistication.  The one irony lost upon patrons of The Bistro, however, was that the restaurant’s décor was inspired by the sets in “Irma La Douce,” a romantic comedy set in 1950s Paris about a pimp who falls in love with a prostitute.  Guests entered through over-sized French doors and found themselves transported into a softly lit, heavily mirrored garden café with potted palms and vases of fragrant white lilies. Delicious aromas of Herbes de Provence and saffron permeated the room.  A glamorous ambiance was amplified by the sound of uncorking champagne bottles as Frank Sinatra, crooned “Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars.”  Passers-by would hardly recognize this was a rock and roll affair.

Linda sat at a booth at the back of the restaurant surrounded by her Malibu neighbors, Ronnie Wood and Jackson Browne.  The three of them discussed the recent controversy over The Rolling Stones’ billboard on Sunset Boulevard for their album “Black and Blue,” featuring a woman bound, legs spread-eagle, and the tagline “I’m Black and Blue from The Rolling Stones—and I love it!”  After widespread feminist protests, Atlantic reluctantly removed the billboard. Linda, usually known for her strong opinions on these things, let the guys bury themselves in their own bullshit justifications of artistic integrity.  She knew that, controversy or no controversy, The Stones would make millions and that was all the record companies cared about.

“It’s a shame it was taken down.”  Linda looked up and saw Jimmy Page smiling at her.  She smiled back and offered him a seat, and he leaned over to kiss her on both cheeks.  Jimmy picked up the conversation, offering an interpretation based on his interest in another controversial artist, Robert Mapplethorpe.  Linda listened politely as he explained, in detail, the aesthetics of bondage art.  Her mind wandered.  She scanned the restaurant for Robert and finally saw him standing near the entrance.  His frame towered over everyone as he chatted, shook hands, and absorbed compliments and admiration.  She watched him and wondered how long he had been standing there at the doorway, too gracious to ignore any of his guests.  He used his hands to emphasize a point, and, perhaps out of nervousness or habit, occasionally reached up and gently brushed the lush curls from his face.  Once again, she thought the gesture feminine, yet not effeminate, which was a quality she found fascinating for a man who exuded such virility.  He looked up, and she quickly returned her attention back to Jimmy. The conversation had evolved into a discussion of his vintage guitar collection. Linda laughed as Jimmy and Ronnie each recounted their first guitar lesson, and she thought about how fortunate she was to be among the most talented musicians in the world.  She was the most celebrated woman in rock music, and certainly the highest paid, yet it still amazed her sometimes that she was living her dream of being a singer.

Robert broke away from the crowd at the door.  More than a few women hovered around, waiting to catch his eye, but he looked straight past them.  He saw Linda seated across the room, engaged in conversation with Jimmy and the other men at her table.  He watched her surreptitiously and thought he saw her look over in his direction once or twice.  He noticed that, unlike the rest of the women in the room, she wore very little makeup. She was dressed casually and her long, black hair hung loosely over her naked shoulders thanks to what was known as a Brigitte Bardot off-the-shoulder blouse.  Robert knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, and he smirked deviously.  “Don’t let her catch you staring,” he thought, and he forced himself to look away.  It surprised him that he was so giddy and nervous about meeting her.  He would have met her last year if Jimmy hadn’t abandoned him but that really was his own fault.  There was the matter of a sweet, little redhead at a bookstore in the West Village.  This time there were no such distractions.  He felt someone standing next to him.  “She’s stunning, isn’t she?”  Robert recognized Ahmet’s voice, but kept his eyes on Linda, suddenly not caring who noticed he was staring.

Without looking at Ahmet, Robert answered, “Yes, she certainly is.  Will you introduce me to her?”

“Yes, of course.  Come with me.”

“No, wait.  Not just yet.”

“Alright, my young Prince.” Ahmet affectionately patted Robert on the back. “You come and find me when you’re ready.  But don’t wait too long.  She seems to have a lot of suitors.”  He turned to leave and then suddenly stopped, turned back to face Robert and said, “You know what Jagger calls her don’t you?  The ‘Queen of L.A.’”

Robert considered for a moment, then looked at Ahmet, flashed him a huge grin and said, “Ahmet, tonight I shall be King.”

Linda saw Robert watching her and realized that he was no longer hiding his interest.  They made direct eye contact, and he smiled at her.  His finely chiseled dimples were visible from across the room.  “What a shameless flirt,” she thought.  She smiled back then casually diverted her gaze and returned her attention to the conversation at her table.  Several minutes went by, and she felt Robert’s eyes still on her.  Suddenly, she grew impatient.  “Why the hell doesn’t he just come over here?” she wondered.  She shifted her eyes in his direction again, but he was no longer there.  Right at that moment, Jimmy asked her what Led Zeppelin song she would sing if she decided to do a cover.

“That’s a tough one,” she answered.  “Your songs might be too masculine for me to sing lead. I would have to sing harmonies or maybe backing vocals like Sandy Denny on, uh . . .”

“The Battle of Evermore,” Jimmy completed her thought.

“Right, I’m sorry--‘The Battle of Evermore.’  I love the vocal arrangement on that song.”

As Robert walked the room, gravity shifted.  People were drawn to him.  He was like the sun controlling the movements of the planets and wherever he went, they followed.  Billie Holiday’s sultry voice floated in the air, “Blue moon, you saw me standing alone.  Without a dream in my heart.  Without a love of my own.” He looked over at Linda again.  She was speaking to Jimmy and gesturing animatedly with her hands, stopping briefly to giggle before she continued. Robert thought she was adorable, and he wanted to meet her now.  He had asked Ahmet to introduce them because, for some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want it to seem obvious that he was so eager. He looked around for his go-between but didn’t see him, so Robert, asserting his famous leonine prowess, decided to walk over to Linda’s table alone, but working his way directly through the crowd was impossible.  Every few steps someone stopped him, and he felt obligated to chat.

Linda looked up just as Robert made his way directly towards her.  She watched him getting closer and closer.  The entire room watched him too, and then suddenly everyone’s eyes slowly shifted in her direction.  She felt her skin flush, so she took a sip of water and forced herself to relax.  He reached her table and, when she looked up at him, his smile momentarily threw her off balance.  He offered her his hand and softly said, “Hello, I’m Robert Plant.”

She smiled back at him, extended her hand, and he immediately clasped it between both of his own.  “Hello, Robert Plant,” she said calmly.  “I’m happy to finally meet you.   I’m Linda Ronstadt.   Would you like to sit down?”  Robert held her hand until he sat down next to her.  Always a generous party host, he immediately offered her a drink.

“She doesn’t drink,” Jimmy and Ronnie echoed each other, and they all laughed.

“It doesn’t look like we can corrupt this one, Robert,” Jimmy joked.  “No drinking, no smoking, and, I’m assuming, no controlled substances?”  He raised an eyebrow and looked at Linda for an answer.

She maintained his lighthearted tone and asked with a laugh, “Are you accusing me of being a prude, Jimmy?”

“Let’s see,” Robert said, not missing a beat. “No smoking.  No drinking.  No controlled--or uncontrolled--what-have-you.  Have you no, vices?  Tell me, what are your guilty pleasures?” He looked directly into her eyes and smirked suggestively.  Linda, who had spent many years hanging around musicians, knew exactly how to keep up with their brand of teasing.  She was having fun, and she especially enjoyed that Robert felt comfortable enough to bait her into flirting right off.

“Oh, I see.  You guys really are trying to corrupt me, aren’t you?” she said.  Then she looked directly into Robert’s eyes and tossed him a challenge.  “I have a weakness for sugar.”

“Ah, well, I’ve got plenty of that, ha!”  His response was instantaneous, and, as usual, he couldn’t resist laughing at his own joke.

“He walked right into that one,” she thought. “This is too easy.”  She went on.  “Then you’ll be the first person I call the next time I bake my famous cherry pies.”

“Cherry pie happens to be my specialty,” he quipped. The entire table broke into rowdy laughter, including Linda.

“You’re good,” she told him and swatted his arm gingerly.  Amused with himself, he took a long drag from his cigarette and shrugged boyishly.

“I was just asking Linda what Zeppelin song she might want to cover,” Jimmy said.

“I have a better idea.  What if Linda and I sang a duet?” Robert asked.

“Duet?  Jimmy, surprised by his suggestion, nearly spilled his whisky.  “Robert, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, I love the idea of singing a duet with Robert. Excuse me for interrupting, Jimmy,” Linda said, placing her hand on his shoulder as a gentle apology.  “As Jackson could tell you,” she gestured to her friend, the singer-songwriter Jackson Browne who had practiced harmonies with her many times, “when the song is right for a duet or harmony, all the lead singer needs is a strong partner.  Do you have a song in mind, Robert?”

“Do you have a song in mind, Robert?” Jimmy could never resist backing him into a corner.  Robert had listened to all of Linda’s albums, so he knew she loved to record country-folk and classic American rock and roll.  He also knew he needed a quick response, or he would sound like an asshole trying to hijack the conversation.

“Maybe something by . . . Roy Orbison or Buddy Holly?” he offered.  “But let’s not worry about that right now.  I’m interested in hearing about Linda’s new album.”

Suddenly, Ahmet approached the table.  “Robert, I see you’ve finally met Linda. You two have a lot in common.  You must tell her about shooting the scenes at Raglan Castle and along the Welsh coast.  Linda rides horses as well. Appaloosas, isn’t that right?” Amhet asked and, without waiting for her response, he turned his attention to Jimmy, Ronnie, and Jackson and asked to speak to them.  The three rock stars excused themselves and followed Ahmet over to his table.

Robert and Linda spent the next hour huddled together in the booth at the back of the crowded restaurant.  They spoke of their favorite music and shared stories about performing in L.A. in ‘69 and ‘70 at The Troubadour and Whisky-A-Go-Go. A love of history, travel, and riding horses were among the many things they had in common.  Robert proudly told her the history of the Welsh coast where he filmed his horse-riding scenes, which brought the conversation full circle back to the “The Song Remains the Same.”  “Tell me, honestly,” he said, “your thoughts about the film.”

It was an open-ended request rather than a direct question and it reminded her that she wanted to ask about his medieval fantasy sequence.  “Your hero didn’t save the girl.  Was that intentional?”

“Ah!  How wonderful that you noticed,” he said.  Most people don’t see it that way.  Most people don’t see her as a girl at all.  They want her to represent an abstract ideal, which I suppose she does, to a certain degree.”

“But you wrote the story yourself, didn’t you? And chose not to play the part of the conquering hero.  It’s an ambiguous ending.  That’s unconventional, to say the least.  I thought it was the best part of the film.  Next to the music, of course.”

“Why was it the best part?”  He was intrigued.

“Well, the way I see it is that you represent the highest level of achievement in a male-dominated industry.  That’s something I’m a little bit familiar with” she laughed.  “And, instead of fulfilling everyone’s expectations, you’ve completely reinvented them.”  Linda was no longer just talking about the film.  “It turned out that your heroine wasn’t weak, or in need of saving.  And that left the audience to wonder whether your hero could save her in the first place or whether he wanted to save her at all. Or, do you think I’m reading too much into it?”

Robert was silent for a few moments and finally answered.  “I think you’ve just solved the mystery, my dear.  And, I am in awe of your ability to read me.”

© waywaydowninside 2017.

[maladaptive-dreamer]

Here are some cool paras!

Yay para-talk!  [Little warning: English isn’t my mother tongue and I also never really trained it so whatever it will be absolutely awful and embarrassing but I hope you can deal with that!]

[Little A/N warning: TRIGGER WARNING IN SEVERAL AREAS.]

 - Self-harm

 - Sexual assault

 - Drug abuse

Asher Winter - Born as Shlomo Winter is a 22-year-old student (studies business administration) who currently lives in Vienna. He shares a flat with his boyfriend Emil and the siblings Moira and Jasille whom they keep calling Rommel (for some reason which I freekin dunno) or Vanilla (since Asher and Emil are into BDSM + Asher also enjoys pup play a lot and Jasille isn’t into kinky stuff at all). Emil isn’t his only boyfriend since the couple is polyamorous. Money is always a huge problem since none of them get help by their family’s (Asher left his family by the age of 18 without ever telling them where he went, Emil can’t stand his rich and patronizing parents, Moira doesn’t get any money either because of her huge drug problem and Jasille is able to earn money himself since he’s working on becoming a musical star and does a pretty good job with that but he rarely shares his money cause in his opinion the others have to get themselves together) and are mostly ‘not working’ themselves (Asher has some pretty bad payed jobs, Emil tries his luck as street musician and Moira can’t work since she got huge mental problems after she got raped by her very own boyfriend. This trauma also led to her drug addiction). Asher is something like the 'mother of the commune’ who tries to take care of everyone. He’s known for being a little bit weird because all of his plants and also the kitchen appliances for example got names (he has the tendency to overact if someone forgets a name) and also he’s got huge problems with concentration. The explanation for him being unable to focus for 'longer’ time spans is that he’s a maladaptive daydreamer himself. One of the reasons why he left his family was in fact that they became too concerned and he felt like he’d have to leave to 'safe’ his daydreams. He mostly doesn’t recognize that his disorder has taken over his life and is also able to use his fantasy for writing since it’s his goal to become an author (which he somehow already reached since he was able to sell two of his books already but they are pretty unknown). Other characteristics are his love for platonic body contact (he’s always cuddling with/hugging someone, running his Hand through their hair etc.), his heterochromia (his eyes are ¾ bluegrey but half of his right eye is dark brown) and his calm and somewhat 'slow’ nature (him being 'slow’ is a lil connection with the village he came from since there are many jokes about how the people from there use to be dumb + slow talking etc. which isn’t true about Asher but he never causes drama so whatever). Most people also wouldn’t see him as a Dom - just as they don’t think of Emil as a Sub. Both partners are polyamorous demisexuals and are a couple since about one year or may a few months more. Anthony Bishop - Dis boi needs therapy. Born as the oldest son of a Redneck family, Anthony is pretty conservative for an 18-year-old. Also he’s mentally ill and diagnosed with major depression, insomnia, pica-syndrome (eating non-nutritive substances such as plastic, nails, cigarettes and even dirt) and also used to experience psychotic symptoms. He’s pretty autoaggressive (mostly visible through cutting himself) and his psychotherapist also thinks that he’s got a personality disorder which combines antisocial and borderline symptoms. Anthony rarely has any interests except Gore and also got a Gore blog himself on which he uploads pictures and Videos oh him torturing and killing animals which sceletons he also collects. He’s pretty aware that he’s mentally ill and also that he may die cause of his destructive behavior but he doesn't really care and also plans on killing himself a lot even if he lately found some friends and spends lots of time with them, finally learning to socialize. It also seems like Anthony will have even more problems in the future cause of his romantic/sexual orientation. He isn’t 100% sure yet but even if he’s heterosexual he’s definitely not heteroromantic which is a huge deal since he’s homophobic himself - just like his whole family. His opinion on LGBT* changed a little after becoming friends with a gay jewish dude called Yves Honigblum and a bisexual boy named Oliver Coleman but it will still turn his word upside down when finding out that he’s romantically attracted to guys only. Janosch - Also called Kurosch sometimes was part of a whole other universe somewhere in the near/not so near future. He was a 27-31 year-old rebel who fought a dictatorship together with his 'mother’ (an ex-doctor who saved his life by the age of 12-13 years and became an outlaw after she got caught stealing medicine for the poor) and her followers. He got executed shortly before the Situation escalated and the rebels won the war. Even if he went through lots of terrible things (suffered any kind of abuse from an early age, had to work as a child-prostitute etc.) he grew up to be an energetic and lovely dude who never lost his spirit. His special talent was hacking both, machines and humans which was the main reason why he became the 'leader’ of a small group within the rebel formation. His team consisted of a female gun-fetishist. a mostly mute genius, the genius’ caretaker/a moral supporter and a bomb specialist who lost his mind after Janoschs death and got killed also after committing a few terroristic attacks against the military. Even if the rebels mostly supported a somewhat communist system Janosch himself was an anarchist who just accepted leaders for the period of striking down the dictatorship. It would have been pretty interesting to see him after the war but the revolution devours all it’s children and Janosch - even if he was a kind and loyal soul - wasn’t born to live in a good world. He was there to fight and also Change something but not to get what he deserved. [So this are three of my paras, even if one of them is dead already I thought it would be interesting to read about 100% different ones. If you want more information about them, just tell me. I love to talk about my paras and their experiences/lives/stories.]

[One last A/N: “My English will be absolutely awful” aaaand cue perfect English :) I cannot describe how thrilled receiving this submission made me!! Thank you so much for deciding to share your paras :) It’s funny, Asher is my younger brother’s name...so that was a bit weird, but that plot sounds SO INTERESTING so it was all good. Honestly, I would read the hell out of that book/watch the hell out of that movie with any of these plotlines. I hope this bolsters the courage of the rest of you - send in your paras!!]

[carstairsdaily]

A Response to "13 Reasons Why", the Netflix Series

TW:// suicide. I wanted to open up to you guys about something you may not know about me. On Halloween of last year, I got a phone call that changed my life. My classmate and friend, passed away by suicide. His death was devastating to our community, and shocking too, but what shocked me the most, was how my school handled the situation. Though guidance counselors who sat in our classrooms for two days told us he had passed away by suicide, there were adults telling students that it was an accident. Many students, including myself, made efforts to address suicide prevention, and were shut down by administration, told that they weren’t even sure that it was suicide, and that there was a risk of contagion if addressed in that manner. We were told many things following his death. We were told a lot of lies, half-truths, cop-out excuses. And in the weeks that followed we were expected to get over his death entirely. The memorial we created on his locker with cards and drawings and rosary beads and notes were taken down. It has been months since I have heard his name out loud. After the funeral, I struggled to make sense of what happened. Our teachers asked us if he had been bullied, or if we knew anything about his life, if he had depression, and even his closest friends really had no idea how to answer. It made me realize the importance of perspective, but at the moment, I had none. So I picked up the book that I haven’t read since my sophomore year, 13 Reasons Why written by Jay Asher, hoping I would find perspective, or at least something to be able to relate to. Initially, I wanted to be mad at Jay Asher for portraying suicide in a romanticized manner, or even in a way that wasn’t realistic. I wanted to be mad at someone for giving me the wrong idea about what the suicide of a classmate felt like, but after reading, I knew I couldn’t be mad at Jay Asher, because the lessons I learned from the story gave me something I didn’t even realize I was looking for, a sense of understanding and closure. Some parts were hard to read, I had to take several breaks in between chapters to process Hannah’s story. I felt conflicted because at times, I related to Hannah, and sometimes I related to Skye, but mostly, I felt drawn to Clay Jensen, who spent weeks wondering why Hannah took her own life, wondering if she left a note, wondering if he could have done anything to help. I was Clay. I didn’t know my classmate well enough to say that we were friends, or that I remembered more than a few interactions we had together. But for me, my connection to Clay didn’t need a justification. I had felt what it was like to be him within my soul, and his character broke my heart in two. Clay got something that I nor any of my classmates were given; an explanation. We did not get a note, we did not get to find out why he took his own life, or if he left a note, or if we could have done anything to help. I almost wish that I could resent Clay for being given the privilege of hearing Hannah’s perspective, when I never got to hear the perspective of my classmate’s, but I wasn’t, and I could never be, because I know that I don't deserve one. I realized after reading 13 Reasons Why that suicide is not a split second decision, a mistake made out of impulse, something that someone does for attention. I realized that suicide is complex, that it is not black and white or the same for every person, and that a person can be going through so much more than we could ever understand, feeling alone and without anyone to talk to. I realized that the saying, “There’s nothing any of us could have done,” is nothing more than a sugarcoated falsehood, something we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better. And I have to admit that I was anxious about the show. I was anxious for several reasons, but mostly because I thought that they would get it wrong. I feared that suicide would be portrayed as a selfish act, a romanticized tragedy. I feared that people would resent Hannah Baker. I was so afraid that the story that meant so much to me and changed my life only a few months ago would be twisted into one that I didn’t recognize. But I realized within the first couple of episodes that I did not have to be worried, and I let the show and its powerful message change my life once again. Hannah Baker, played by Katherine Langford, was portrayed exactly how she should have been and more. Katherine gave a stellar performance, one that should be celebrated, and not ostracized. Hannah was not selfish, she wasn’t looking for attention, and suicide was not an impulsive decision for her. The build up of trauma that took place in the series is a kind of trauma that is not unfamiliar to most teens. Her portrayal was raw, real, and respectful and I have to say that Katherine Langford should be receiving a lot more recognition for the role than she is. Speaking of actors who are underrated and should be receiving a lot more recognition, Dylan Minnette gave an excellent portrayal of Clay Jensen, one that was also raw, real and respectful. A role that was also complicated at times, one that required emotional strength and resilience to be able to portray correctly, and one that was also inspiring. I was personally inspired by the fact that while he wanted to remain loyal to Hannah and her wishes, he also wanted to help the other people impacted by the tapes. After someone passes away, and a community is hit hard by a loss, there are people who will do anything in their power to fight for justice, and to promote unity, and to help those who are suffering the most. Clay is one of those people, and I was too. I only wish that people could do the same instead of making excuses, or sugarcoating the tragedy, or trying to make everyone else get over it, they could understand that they are denying those exact same people closure, and an important lesson to be learned. Clay Jensen says it best, "It has to get better, the way we treat each other and look out for each other, it has to get better." And it does. We need to learn now more than ever that there are stories behind each face we see, that people are going through so much more than we know, and that it is important to be kind. So I hope that all of you read this and know you're not alone, and that this blog is a safe space for you. I hope that those of you who watch the show find it as inspiring as I did, and for those of you who may be too anxious to see the show, in fear that it is dishonest or unrealistic know that you won't be disappointed.

[cosmosogler]

hi guys i am going to write a little bit early today, since i don’t have anything better to do.

today i slept in, considering it took me as long as usual to fall asleep last night on top of going to bed an hour after i wanted to. my dreams were that odd mix of like every negative emotion ever blended with a strange, intense fondness for the people in the dream. or at least, one of them. like i’d known them forever and knew almost everything about them, but there was enough that i didn’t know that they still had surprises, and i just liked everything about them. but the person exists only as a figment of my imagination so nothing matters.

they rarely recognize that i exist, when i dream about them. they can be different people, or other living things. i wouldn’t describe it as romantic interest, or physical attraction. just an aching familiar fondness. like the feeling i get about eve.

i wanted to talk a little more about star vs the forces of evil before i forget, and before i move on to the next show on my list. i’ve seen several comments about how “interesting” toffee is as a villain. i disagree. savvy and sinister villains aren’t any more interesting than any other kind of villain. that role in children’s cartoons has been well explored by this point. what would be really interesting is if toffee brought something new to the table. i was thinking about it... right now he really comes across as an “all according to keikaku (keikaku means plan)” sort of guy, and nothing in the story has challenged his Evil Plan. like, at all. what i really want to see, genuinely, is what makes him afraid. what makes him anxious. what happens when his Evil Plan is barely holding together. how does he improvise. 

i was thinking in particular of dio when i was having that idea, even though dio doesn’t imply that he’s genuinely afraid of jotaro until the big confrontation. and for the majority of the show he’s the same “all according to plan” guy. the difference is that we learned about him personally in part 1, so he’s not, like, mysterious and aloof as the villain in part 3. we already know he’s a large ham with a side of cheese and is also very persuasive. 

bill cipher was an interesting disney cartoon villain because he DIDN’T have an Evil Plan. there’s no way he was capable of planning that far ahead. he had short-term plans, but he mostly relied on his sheer power and impulsive kicks and seized opportunities as they came up and leaned back on the inevitability of a prophecy to Take Over the World.

i think about villains a lot...

when i was young i was always fascinated by villains. they were so much easier to make interesting than heroes. and they were having so much fun! i mean, my characters were generally heroes, because i was little and wanted to pretend they were my friends, and villains won’t be nice to you. but i spent a lot of time admiring disney’s villain songs and writing about characters that couldn’t decide if they were heroes or villains. right before high school i decided i wanted to dedicate some time to figuring out how to make a hero as interesting and fun as a villain. i’m still... working on that.

i dunno. it comes down to having natural traits that can be both strengths and flaws in different situations. and if you’re going to make a saturday morning cartoon villain, a captain planet villain, then you don’t have to worry about that and they can still be fun to watch. but if you go for a complex or sympathetic villain like toffee seems like he’s supposed to be, then they have to also have those same kinds of flaws. how are we supposed to see what the villain is made of if they don’t get put through the sort of gauntlet the heroes do? i want to see villains that are given as much development as the heroes get challenged emotionally and intellectually. i’m tired of watching their plans work until the third act when the heroes overcome them. 

maybe then they’re not really a villain any more if that happens. maybe that request is way too vague. maybe i’m guilty of the same thing in my stories. i tried to play with the concept a little bit in the jumbi story by having the main villain present in the story only through memories. it turns the main character (his minion, basically) into both the protagonist and the antagonist, struggling with understanding that yes, he’s really dead, and he’s not coming back, and he can’t hurt you if you don’t keep following his Evil Plan.

anyway, i went to therapy again today. we didn’t come up with a note i can send to the grad schools, even though i brought it up and i had the notebook right there in my lap. it’s just one sentence. why can’t i write it?

we retreaded some old territory with the whole “you can’t kill yourself, you signed a contract to be alive! if you kill yourself, you’ll go to hell!” thing. it still made me just as angry and uncomfortable as the first time. especially with the, like, knowing smile, and the near-wink, like i just don’t get it. she doesn’t even believe in hell. she didn’t use the exact word “hell,” but it’s... hard to imagine what else she could have been referring to.

i noticed something though. i was very quiet during her mini-lectures, even though i was picking apart her words as fast as she was saying them, and i had arguments i could have used. i just didn’t. it was too hard to make the words come out of my mouth.

i don’t have this problem with asher, though. if i disagree with something he says i feel comfortable voicing that and discussing our different points of view. i guess with the therapist it feels like a lost cause already. i don’t feel... comfortable enough to audibly disagree. i don’t trust myself to not stammer. because i descend into a horrible stuttering spiral every time i am even a little bit nervous. even when i’m not nervous it’s a 50/50. 

i again wonder how i look when i’m sitting there letting her say all she wants. she told me it was hard to get me to say anything. i don’t think she gave me enough time to think about what i wanted to say next before she would gesture for me to continue though. and i tried to bring up some stuff i’d written down here this week, but it sounded dumb and uncertain when i said it out loud. so, like, i’d give up before i was able to articulate the full thought. so my concerns came off as kind of, shallow? 

like i said i wasn’t sure i fully understood meditating, and i had the words in my head, but i didn’t quibble about not understanding how to think things through and also not think at the same time. how to experience the present moment and my emotions as they came for long periods of time without thinking about how i felt about what was happening, or why i was feeling the emotions. so she explained the basic premise of meditation and the goal to focus on breathing. which wasn’t really what i was asking for, or, it wasn’t what i WANTED to ask for... but i guess, technically, that’s as far as i got in my question.

“who are you?” she’d ask. i would ask what that meant. who are you is an extremely broad question. i asked if she meant, “what do you value?” because that’s generally how i think of it. she said “what IS your value?” 

i felt kind of bad, because just the other day i wrote about judging people for not thinking about stuff. and i had to tell her i didn’t think about that very much. maybe it was a lie. i don’t think HIGHLY of my value, but maybe i’ve thought about it before, because i obviously came to that conclusion at some point.

she tutted and smiled and shook her head. “you don’t understand yet,” she said.

i put all my self worth in my brain. i wanted to say that i felt like the thing i valued in myself didn’t exist, because i am not clever enough to figure out how to solve my own problems without someone else telling me what to do. i can’t do anything without someone else giving me directions on how to do it. how am i supposed to work at the edge of human understanding, and broaden our knowledge about how the universe works, if i can’t make up new rules? instead i said nothing and looked at the back of the door. 

i put all my self worth in my brain because obviously i’m not going to be a viable life partner with my orientation. or my wonderful personality. (it’s not a wonderful personality.) or the plain, compact package i come in. or physical ability. but even my mind ain’t nothing special. it doesn’t even work right. 

i’m afraid of accepting the idea that my therapists put forward, that “i’m special,” because i feel like it would mean that i think i’m... better in some way. and also because it’s the same thing my mom would tell me, in between slapping me around for being worthless and emotional and retarded. “you’re going to save the world,” she’d say, with this manic look in her eyes, a kind of intimidating grin. “you’re emotionally stunted,” she’d say, and she may not have been physically hitting me but it was basically the same. “you look retarded.” “do you want to go back to wearing diapers?” “i’m going to put you on a leash.” i’m only good for one thing. everything else i’m deficient in. emotions, taking care of myself, following directions... and i’m not even good at the one thing i had to be good at to be worth anything!

i write all this down and then i am too tight-lipped in therapy to make any progress. i considered printing out some entries and giving them to her, but she might see that i didn’t care for her sermons. like “you go to hell if you back out of this deal by killing yourself.” isn’t that horribly unfair? to the people with the actual neurotransmitter malfunctions that cause suicidal thoughts? it’s like saying that since some people can apparently will themselves out of cancer, everyone should be able to, and if you die because of cancer then you didn’t try hard enough and didn’t think positive enough. suicidal thoughts come from, like, prolonged chemical imbalances. that’s a medical thing. it’s not just about willpower. it’s not just about “trying harder.” i mean, those are aspects of it, recovery takes work, it doesn’t just go away when you start taking meds. but it’s... mean, to say it’s your fault and you’re weak and you go to hell if you kill yourself. it’s mean. depression hurts and it’s mean to scare people into hanging in there. it’s not the right way to convince someone to keep living. there are other ways to do that.

it’s hard to argue with someone in a conversation format. it’s easy to get interrupted, and if my train of thought gets derailed i tend to clam up and start just agreeing with everything they say until they’re done talking. i feel like the only way i could possibly get this stuff across to my therapist is if i wrote it down and gave her the note instead of talking. and it’s hard to challenge someone who is way older and more experienced than you are, even indirectly or gently. i don’t really have the stamina for a long debate, and starting this conversation would mean i’d have to commit for however long it takes to finish. i have enough trouble debating with people who DON’T have the “experience” edge over me.

the therapist example, of course, applies to my feelings on arguing with people in general. it’s exhausting. and i tend to get really stubborn, even when it’s not warranted. and being stubborn means i get frustrated when people don’t agree with my reasoning. maybe that’s common though... it runs a little deeper than that. stacking my entire sense of self worth on my intellect (whatever that is, and how powerful or not it might be) means it is really seriously super hard when people don’t listen to me. at least, listen to me about things i take seriously. i don’t care about disagreeing over whether or not adventure time is a good show. it’s... fun to hear other people’s points of view in lower stakes situations. and i do change my mind about that stuff. but like, arguing about the value of science. or how the illusion of masculinity hurts us all. or how people of other races should be treated with respect. i get burnt out. and i get the distinct feeling of flailing my arms ineffectually at the ocean.

i dunno. i’ve changed my mind on how to go about treating people of other races with respect over the years, as i’ve encountered more information. but to argue with people who disagree with the basic premise, that’s... heartbreaking, i guess.

and that’s what i was thinking about today!!! it’s been an hour and a half!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! if you read this far i’m sorry i tricked you into looking at a bunch of exclamation points instead of a conclusion!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[montrealroleplay2]

FINN PRESCOTT

Age & Birthdate: December 2nd, 1991 (26) Birthplace: Montreal, CA Location: Saint Laurent Occupation: Neurological Oncology Resident Gender: Male Sexuality: Homosexual Length of Time in Montreal: Entire life Faceclaim: Jack Falahee 

trigger warnings: – cancer, parental death, bullying because of homosexuality

All started as planned: a mother, a father, and three kids. Living in Montreal, under the roof of a family who loved him with all that they had, Finn had a wonderful childhood full of playgrounds and Christmases and Disney and Power Rangers and money may have tight at times, but there were few kids as content as Finn Prescott. As a child, he grew close with his siblings and was a dedicated and focused student. Though very young, he discovered a passion for soccer, art, cooking, and a young boy in his class named Charley. (His parents were extremely accepting of their son’s sexuality, even though some of the kids at his school and their parents were not. Years later, in high school, he was bullied for being so openly gay, several of tormentors confused because he hadn’t fit their pixy dust stereotype.) Finn was ten years old when his mother passed away and the bullying, or whatever else for that matter, never gnawed away at him as much as her death. It was the sort of pain that bore deep holes in him that still, to this day, haven’t been refilled. She was diagnosed with brain cancer and her untimely death tainted his crystal clear heart with greyed ink. Grief roped its way through the Prescott household following the death of Finn and Asher’s mother, winding its way around he walls of their house first before the walls of his chest. Each day that he came home, Finn felt weighted under the impending responsibilities that came along with a single-parent household. So, unlike his sister, he turned away from them and pretended as though his family’s problems didn’t concern him. In high school, when his sister, Asher, juggled school work and multiple jobs, he spent days at a time at friends’ houses, coming home for no other reason than to grab a clean shirt (one that he hadn’t washed himself, of course). He partied. He drank. He slept around. He let selfishness absorb him until nothing could touch him anymore. Nothing could hurt him anymore.

However, when Asher and Finn reached senior year, the reality of college inched closer and Asher asked for help, for the first time ever, from her brother. With his chin up and chest out, he strode confidently back into the house of which he’d grown unfamiliar and finally saw the hurt he’d been avoiding. Whatever fantasy he had worked so fervently to construct shattered in front of him. And it hurt like a bitch. He made a complete 180º and begged his family to forgive him. With wider hearts than his, they did. He did his best to shape himself into a model son, doing everything he could to make up for the lack of support he’d withheld for years. A deep self loathing imprinted itself onto his heart, so ashamed of the person he used to be, and it lit a fire underneath his feet to be better, deciding he wouldn’t settle for anything else. For the first two years of University, he attended a decent college and worked and worked in hopes that his past self would become someone he didn’t recognize. He achieved grades high enough to transfer to McGill University’s science faculty for junior year with the intention to study pre-med and become an oncologist. Consider it a grasp at redemption.

Now, twenty-six years old, Finn is an oncology resident at Montreal Neurological Institute and Hospital in Saint Laurent. He works incessantly hard. Finn now sports the dark under-eye circles that his father had when his children were growing up. His radical hours leave little room for the downtime though he he treasures the hours when he doesn’t work. Though much more focused now, his drive to be better sometimes will steer him back towards old habits. He still loves to party and hookup with guys he meets on stupid dating apps. He likes the superficiality of a hookup, the way a stranger has no expectations of him. He’s roommates with his childhood best friend Micah and Finn looks up him, convinced Micah is twice the man he’ll ever be. When he’s not at work, Finn might be in the park playing soccer or at a concert with Micah or at a local club. He’s beginning to finally feel settled into a new lifestyle. However, it may not be the healthiest. Getting little sleep and feeling as though he hasn’t slowed down in years, Finn uses humor and lightheartedness to combat his exhaustion, so no one will truly tell how he risks coming apart at the seams.

❝ i like nonsense. it wakes up the braincells.

In an effort to conceal his deeply rooted insecurities, Finn is almost always joking. Rarely, if ever, is he serious. He doesn’t handle heavy topics with grace. He’s restless and anxious, so it’s not unheard of that, after a day of work or studying, he’ll call Micah or Asher, or anyone he loves and ask them to go on some wild adventure regardless of the time. As a result of his more recent hard work, he’s become deeply knowledgable and knows much more than he’ll let on. He holds sacred the idea of church & state, placing his work on the opposite side of the room from his social life. When you speak to Finn, you will be struck by his outgoing and flirty nature. His spirit never lets on how truly unconfident he is, for he tries to stay as upbeat as possible, clinging to those around him with firm walls planted, so no one else will ever leave again.