#to quote my other tag: she uses more than her golden keys

[gra-sonas]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Isobel Evans/Greogry Manes Characters: Alex Manes, Michael Guerin, Isobel Evans, Gregory Manes, Max Evans Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Christmas Fluff, Malex Secret Santa 2020, 12 Days of Malex 2020, Kid Fic, Married Couple Summary:

Michael's eyes widened when he noticed Alex's sweater. "Oh my god, this is my early Christmas present tonight. My model husband, wearing an "ugly" Christmas sweater. Ellie, have you seen this? Have you seen how handsome Alex looks in his sweater? I mean, he'd give Colin Firth a run for his money any day, but wow, this sweater. I'm in awe."

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My @malexsanta​ gift for @usbournejez - 7.5k of fluff with a smidge of angst. 

Your prompt "On Christmas Eve, Michael and Alex have to look after Greg's little baby together. Their true nature as parents are revealed. Also, you know, Alex holding a baby under Christmas tree lighting. How could Michael resist that?" spoke to me immediately, and I hope I managed to write something you’ll enjoy. MERRY CHRISTMAS! ❤️

~*~

"What are you wearing?" Isobel asked, looking at Alex in mild disbelief. Her usually well-dressed brother-in-law was wearing what looked a lot like a replica of Colin Firth's reindeer Christmas sweater from the first Bridget Jones movie.

"Michael's idea," Alex said, his dreamy smile betraying his annoyed tone.

Isobel chuckled. "Oh honey, you have it bad for my brother, so bad even, that you, Mr. GQ himself, put on an," she air quoted the next word "ugly Christmas sweater to make him happy."

Alex laughed. " Don't tell anyone, but I ordered Christmas themed onesies for us to wear in front of the open fire. There are candy canes and red-nosed reindeers printed all over it. He'll love it!"

"Alex, you're the gift Michael's been waiting for his whole life, even during the 50 years we were floating in our pods," Isobel said fondly.

Alex laughed, delighted, and then looked over Isobel's shoulder.

"Didn't you bring your husband? And where's the main attraction?"

"Greg's just getting all her things from the car. She fell asleep on the drive here and we thought we'd wait until the last moment to wake her up. You know how she is when someone interrupts one of her naps," Isobel explained.

"Like mother, like daughter," Alex chuckled.

Isobel flicked his ear, which caused Alex to let out a painful yelp. Then she poked her perfectly manicured finger into his stomach – right into Rudolph's red nose.

"You are still holding that against me? I was 9 months pregnant when that happened. You try that some day, Captain, and I'll come over and wake you up from a restful nap you were only able to take because your kid didn't do cartwheels inside of you for a change. You'd be grumpy, too."

"You know, if I could, I would absolutely try that," Alex said wistfully.

Isobel looked at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"The pregnancy thing," Alex explained. "If I could, I'd do it. You know how much Michael's yearning to become a dad, but that's something I'll ever be able to give him. I sometimes wonder whether he ever regretted that he didn't fall in forever love with a woman."

Alex's train of thought was interrupted, when Isobel wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"You know," she began, but interrupted herself to kiss his cheek. Then she pulled back to look him in the eyes. "There are many other ways for you two to become parents, Alex. Michael loves, you. He loves you so much, no amount of yearning for a kid will ever make him regret that the love of his life is someone who isn't equipped with a womb." She squeezed him tightly. "Come on, let's go outside and help Greg."

Alex smiled into her shoulder and breathed in deeply. She smelled expensive today, but the scent of rain underneath was unmistakable. It was so familiar and soothing, the cloud of self-doubt over his head evaporated. He squeezed her one last time before he let go of her.

"Can I try my luck and get her?"

Isobel smiled at him, her eyes shining with fondness. "You do that. She loves her Uncle Alex the most, maybe she won't be too cross when it's you who wakes her up."

Alex followed Isobel outside to the back of the car parked in the driveway. Gregory was folded in half and dived for one last thing stuck in the in the far right corner of the trunk.

"Gotcha," he exclaimed in a hushed voice, carefully retreating back out of the trunk until he was able to stand up to his full height without being danger of hitting his head.

"Hi, baby brother, it's good to see you." He smiled warmly at Alex, and Alex felt a pang of love burst in his chest. He was on good terms with all three of his brothers these days, even with Flint, but Greg held a special place in his heart.

"Hello, you big lump. Good to see you, too," he joked and stepped closer to wrap Greg into a tight hug.

"Nice sweater," his brother murmured, "Michael will love it."

Alex pulled back and chuckled. "You know him too well. I just told Isobel that I ordered Christmas onesies we'll wear tonight. It's just wonderful to see him being a kid at Christmas, making up for all the years during his childhood he couldn't. Enough of that, though. Why don't you guys grab all the stuff and go inside while I'll try my best to kiss the princess awake?"

Isobel hauled a large bag over her shoulder, picked up two paper bags, and headed towards the house. Gregory clicked a button on the car key, and the trunk door slowly closed. Then he picked up the baby swing and another bag and nodded at Alex. "She's all yours. Good luck with our little Miss Grumpypants." He winked at Alex, then he turned around and followed Isobel.

Alex took a deep breath and steeled himself for the task ahead. He loved Eloise like he was his own, and she loved him. At least he hoped she would one day. She was only seven months old and couldn't do much more than coo and babble, but going by how huge she smiled whenever Alex picked her up, he liked to think that she knew who he was, and that she loved him.

He walked around the car and carefully opened the back door. She was fast asleep in her car seat, the ear of her favorite toy bunny (a gift from Alex) clutched into her tiny fist. Alex's heart clenched at the sight of her. She was so small and adorable. He couldn't wait to spend the day with her.

Carefully, he unbuckled the seat belt and tried to wrangle her arms out of the safety harness without jostling her too much. Her tiny mouth pursed in discontent, and she blinked one eye open.

"Hello sweetheart, there you are," he whispered and bent forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. She mewled unhappily but grabbed for him until she had a fist full of Rudolf's face in her hand. He lifted her out of the car seat and scooped her up in his arms.

"That's my girl. I know you're still sleepy but it's cold out here and we should go inside. You can take another nap later, I promise."

She whimpered and buried her face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him and her bunny. He patted her back and closed the car door before he carried her back inside the house.

Alex stopped at the open door of the guest room, where Gregory and Isobel had already placed the bag with the baby's change of clothes. After Liz and Max's twin were born, Michael had set up a beautiful baby bed he'd built himself. "I want our nephews and nieces to have a bed here to take naps or spend the night when they come over, Alex, and maybe, one day, we'll even have a baby of our own."

Alex had struggled to hold back tears when Michael had said it. He always did when Michael mentioned things like having a baby or being a dad. He knew that Michael loved him, and that they'd probably adopt a child one day (he had several websites of adoption agencies bookmarked), but he couldn't quite shake the feeling of wondering whether Michael ever felt regret that they couldn't have biological children, like his alien siblings.

"Oh, there you are. Is she awake?" Isobel's voice nudged him out of his thoughts.

"I wouldn't quite say she's awake yet, but she's not asleep anymore either," Alex replied as he made his way into the living room. He smiled down on Ellie's head and pressed a kiss into her golden hair.

He took the bunny and dropped it on the nearby couch. Ellie snuffled and let out another sleepy unhappy mewl. Isobel came closer and smiled at her daughter.

"Could you turn her around so I can take off her jacket? Your house is so cozy and warm, I think I'll even take off the cardigan. You can put it back on when you think she's getting cold."

Alex turned Ellie around in his arms to give Isobel access to the. Ellie pouted at being wrenched from the comfort of Alex's embrace, but when she saw her mom, the pout quickly turned into a toothless grin.

"Hi baby girl, there you are. Did you have a good nap?" Ellie kicked her legs into the air in reply. "Oh yes, you are waking up. I can see that. Let me take off your jacket, sweetheart," Isobel cooed, opened the zipper of the jacket, and placed a flurry of quick kisses across her daughter's face.

Ellie giggled and threw her arms up in the air as far as she could. Isobel was quick to pull the sleeves off of Ellie's arms while she was still holding them up.

"This trick works like a charm every time," she told Alex in a conspiratorial tone. He filed the information away for later use. "Good to know," he grinned. "Can I try it with the cardigan?"

Isobel nodded, and scooped Ellie up in her arms. Alex stepped closer and opened the buttons of Ellie's green cardigan.

"Oh, is that cashmere?" he wondered.

Isobel rolled her eyes. "Yes, gift from my mom. I know she means well, but a cashmere cardigan for a baby isn't the most useful gift if I'm being honest. I would never tell her that, though. She loves being a grandma and that's what matters."

"True, I don't think I've ever seen your mom as relaxed and happy as she seems to be when she's spending time with your and Max's kids."

"I'll admit that I didn't expect Mrs. "what will my friends at the Country Club say about this" Evans would be such a devoted grandmother, not afraid to get her clothes dirty when she's taking the twins to the playground, nor ever complaining when Ellie spits on her. I'm so happy that Max and I are able to give her the baby experience, since she never had that with us."

Alex 's thoughts drifted off to Jesse. It had been five years since his father's death, and most days he was just grateful that he'd never have to be afraid of the man again. There were still moments when he missed him, though. Not for what or how Jesse was, but for what he maybe could've been under different circumstances. Would he have softened with grandchildren around?

Alex closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. No, he wouldn't have. His father had been a hard man, and a soldier through and through. He would've despised Ellie and the twins for being part alien, probably wouldn't even have hesitated to lock them up somewhere, together with their parents. Alex shuddered at the thought.

He forced his eyes open again and looked at Isobel and Ellie. Isobel looked at him, worry creasing her brow.

"Sorry, just thought about my dad for a second. It happens sometimes," he said apologetically.

She nodded. "I know. Greg does, too."

She shifted Ellie on one hip and lifted one hand to cup Alex's face.

"It's okay, Alex. Losing a parent is hard. No matter what kind of parent. Grief doesn't follow logic, it follows emotions. And emotions are complicated. Messy." She stroked his cheek with the soft pad of one finger. "Come on, let this little nugget take your thoughts off of unpleasant memories. See if you get her to lift her arms so you can take the cardigan off."

Alex pressed a quick kiss to Isobel's open palm before he focused on Ellie again.

Isobel shifted her in her arms and he started peppering Ellie's face with little kisses. She squealed happily and raised her arms in excitement. Alex was quick to make use of the opportunity, and not half a minute later he held the cardigan in his hands.

"Ha, neat trick. I'll try and see if it works with Michael, too."

Isobel's face twisted in disgust. "Ew, I really didn't need that mental image of your and my brother's bedroom antics."

"Are you telling me you haven't tried it with Greg yet?"

She blushed. "That's between me and my husband. A propos, husband." She turned around to look for him. "Greg? Did you fall asleep in there?"

Gregory entered the living room, his phone in hand.

"No, just checked the weather report. We should get on the road if we want to make it there before the snow."

Isobel nodded. "Okay, time to say goodbye, sweetheart. Mom and dad won't be gone long. We'll be back tomorrow morning, just in time for opening the presents, and breakfast."

She turned to Alex. "You are making breakfast, aren't you? I'm dying to eat your pancakes and drink coffee from that fancy machine of yours. Husband, dearest, why don't we have a fancy coffee maker?"

"Because I believe in the magic of ChemEx, not coffee machines, honey. And now come, just a quick goodbye and then we really have to go." He bent down and took Ellie from Isobel's arms.

She laughed happily when he wrapped her in a comforting hug and kissed her chubby little cheeks. "Be a good girl, Ellie. We'll be back tomorrow morning."

Isobel hugged Alex, also kissing him on the cheek.

"When does Michael come home? Did he or Max say what they are up to?"

Alex shook his head, then he held his arms out in front of him and Greg placed Ellie in his arms.

"He didn't say, just that they were going to check something they discovered on a map? He didn't elaborate, but he said he'd be back home in time for dinner at breakfast this morning."

"Okay, I hope they'll be okay out there in this weather."

Alex's heart clenched painfully at the idea of something happening to Michael, but then he forced himself to relax. "They took Max's Jeep, not the truck. I'm sure they'll be fine. Michael wouldn't do anything reckless." He frowned. "Well, not on Christmas Eve at least. I'll text him later and ask how they're doing. Maybe they're on their way back already."

Isobel nodded and squeezed Alex's arm.

"If you hear from them, text me? I'll put my phone on silent, but I'll sneak a glance at it every now and then. There will be plenty of boring speeches tonight. But it's all for a good cause, and as the event planner, it's my duty to attend."

She kissed the top of Ellie's head.

"Be good, Ellie. I miss you already and can't wait to cuddle with you tomorrow morning. I love you." She placed another kiss on Alex's cheek. "And I love you, too. Thank you so much for taking care of her. We'd be lost without you."

Alex laughed. "Nonsense, you know how much I love having her here. We're going to have a lot of fun. I have everything we need like diapers, formula, toys. I have yours, Greg's and Dr. Lieberman's phone numbers on speed dial, Kyle lives just 2 miles away, I'm experienced in first aid, and Michael's an alien with healing powers."

Isobel looked at him with wide eyes.

"Good god, Alex, I know she's in the very best hands with you. Relax. We trust you. Indefinitely. You are an amazing uncle, and apart from Michael, Liz and Max, there's no one else in the world I'd trust my kid with as much, as I trust you. And now we're leaving to avoid the snow. See you tomorrow morning, and please, text me when you hear from my idiot brothers!"

She took Gregory's hand and pulled him with her. Greg looked over his shoulder at Alex. "She's right, there's no one else I'd trust my daughter with more than you. Love you, Alex, see you tomorrow," he said on his way out.

And then they were gone, and Alex was alone with Ellie. He closed his eyes and focused on calming his breathing. Focused on the warm weight of the baby in his arms. He caught a whiff of her scent he hadn't noticed before. Baby powder and rain, unmistakably. He buried his nose in Ellie's hair and took a deep breath.

The smell of rain calmed his frayed nerves. He had no idea why he was so on edge. He shook his head and opened his eyes again. He looked around his and Michael's living room and took in every detail.

The large open fireplace in the corner, the comfy looking L-shaped couch by the large, floor-deep windows, the many pictures of Michael and himself, and of their friends and families. The tall Christmas tree next to the fireplace, decorated with wooden ornaments and red accessories, strings of tiny yellow glowing lights woven into the tree.

Michael had helped him put up the baby playpen next to the couch before he'd left for his adventure with Max earlier. Another beautiful piece of furniture Michael had designed and assembled in his workshop.

The playpen was elevated so that Alex could sit next to it on the couch or on a chair and didn't have to drop down to the floor. The playpen was softly padded with colorful cushions Rosa had made for them, and a few soft toys were stored in a wooden box attached at the side. A mobile with little wooden aliens, stars, and UFOs hang from a hook above the playpen.

Ellie gurgled and wriggled around in his arms. He turned her around and looked at her with a soft smile.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, your Uncle Alex has been very absent-minded today. I'm so happy you're here, though. Let's put a fresh diaper on you, and then we can play, what do you say?"

Ellie cooed and reached for his face with her little hands. He laughed and kissed the tips of her fingers, which got her even more excited. Eloise Manes loved kisses. Just like her Uncle Alex.

Alex carried her over into the guest room where a changing table with all essentials was set up. He turned on the small space heater, put her down on the table, and changed her diapers. Before he put her onesie back on, he blew a few raspberries on her naked belly. She laughed and kicked her legs in delight. Alex was in a great mood when they returned to the living room. He put Ellie in the playpen, and they spent the afternoon playing with the mobile, a soft ball, and of course, Ellie's bunny.

After a while she got restless, though. She didn't like lying on her back or belly for too long. Alex stood up, picked her up, and started walking around the living room with her. She gurgled and "talked" to him excitedly, reaching for anything that grabbed her attention, the Christmas tree in particular.

"No, Ellie, I'm so sorry, but I can't let you play with the tree or the ornaments. But you know what, why don't we call your Uncle Michael and see what he's up to. It's getting dark outside and I want to ask him when he's coming home."

Alex put Ellie on the hip of his good leg and pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He walked closer to the window and held up the phone in front of himself and Ellie. "Hey Siri, facetime Michael," Alex told the phone and kissed Ellie's had absentmindedly.

Michael answered on the third ring and his scruffy face suddenly filled the screen. He smiled.

"Oh, Ellie's already there. I'm so sorry, Alex, we got held up but we're on our way back now," Michael said before Alex could even say hello.

Ellie tried to reach for the phone and Alex struggled to keep it out of her reach without dropping her. He laughed.

"He's on his way home, Ellie, he'll be here soon and then you can give him a kiss." He put the phone down and hoisted her back up on his hip. He should've sat down on the couch instead of carrying her around while he talked to Michael. Oh well. He grabbed his phone and walked over to the couch.

He sat down; Ellie nestled comfortably in the crook of his elbow. "Are you still there?" he asked.

Michael waved at him. "Of course, darlin'. Still here. On my way home to you. Can't wait to kiss you and my adorable niece!"

Michael smiled warmly at them, and Alex felt like he was in danger of bursting with love for the man. His man. His husband.

Not in his wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that one day, he'd sit here in a house he'd built together with the love of his life he'd been lucky enough to marry two years ago.

"Hey, earth to Alex, are you still there?"

Alex laughed. "Ugh, sorry, this has been an ongoing thing today. So weird. I seem to get lost in thought every now and then. Sorry, what did you say when you'd be home?"

"I didn't say yet, but I think it can't be more than half an hour," Michael replied.

"That's good. Ellie's been looking forward to seeing you all afternoon." Ellie's head perked up at the mention of her name.

"I can hardly believe that. You'd think her alien uncle is her favorite, since she's, y'know, half alien herself. But nope. It's you. She has impeccable taste, I'll admit. You're my favorite, too."

Alex blushed, he honest to god blushed at a sappy wonderful thing his husband said to him. It was good that both his hands were occupied with holding a baby and a phone, it kept him from burying his head in his hands.

"Alright," he said. "About half an hour, good, that's when it's almost time for her dinner. When she's in bed, I want to snuggle up with you on our couch and enjoy an evening in front of the fire."

Michael nodded. "I'm in! Can't wait to tell you about our little adventure."

There was something in the way Michael looked at him through the phone that made Alex wonder, but then Michael turned the phone around and Max in the driver's seat became visible.

"Say hello to your favorite brother-in-law, Max," Alex could hear Michael say.

Max glanced over to Michael's phone and smiled.

"Hi, favorite brother-in-law. How are you and my favorite niece holding up?"

Alex laughed. "So many favorites, but guess what, you're my favorite brother-in-law, too."

Max snorted. "I'm your only brother-in-law, you're cheating."

Alex shrugged. "What, and just because you're the only one, you can't be my favorite? Drive safe, you two. And when you get home, tell Liz and the twins hi. See you tomorrow!"

"I'll tell her. Hope you and Michael will have a wonderful evening tonight. See you tomorrow."

Michael turned the phone back around to himself.

"I can't wait to see you, Alex. I love you. See you in half an hour," Michael said, pursing his lips to make a kissing face.

"I love you, too. I'm waiting for you. We're waiting for you," Alex said in a hushed voice. He dipped the phone a little to show Ellie to Michael. She was blinking tiredly and had jammed her thumb and part of her rabbit's ear into her mouth.

Michael's face softened at the sight of the little girl.

"She's adorable. See you in a bit Alex."

With that the phone screen went black. Alex sent a short text to Isobel and put his phone away. Then he reached for the beautiful blanket (matching the colors of the playpen cushions) Rosa had made for them and pulled it over himself and Ellie. He'd just rest for a bit until Michael came home.

~*~

"What do you think he'll say?" Michael asked when Max stopped the car.

Max turned his head and smiled. "What do you think he'll say? You know him better than I do, and I know what he'll say. Go inside, Michael. Take care of Ellie, then tell him."

Michael reached over and squeezed Max's hand.

"Thanks, Max. You're right. And thanks for coming with me today. Give Liz my best and have a good evening. See you tomorrow at eleven. You're bringing Arturo, right?"

Max shook his head. "No, he's coming with Rosa. Even though we told him several times that he didn't have to prepare food for the breakfast, he insisted on making "a little something". Expect Rosa's tiny car being loaded to the brim with containers with enough food to feed an entire army. He's just so happy to spend Christmas with family, we didn't have the heart to tell him no."

"You won't ever hear me complain about Arturo bringing food. I hate that he's putting in so much work to feed us all, but I also understand that it's important to him. Alex is still making pancakes, though. He even ordered more of the syrup you liked so much the last time," Michael teased.

Max grinned. "He's my favorite brother-in-law for a reason. And now go inside, Michael. I'm very happy for you. See you tomorrow."

Michael nodded and took a deep breath before he opened the car door and got out of the car. He turned around and looked at Max.

"Drive safe. Good night, Max."

"Good night, Michael."

Michael closed the door and Max drove off.

Michael patted his jacket down in search for his keys. He knew he was stalling. He didn't need keys to open the door. He just needed this one additional minute to compose himself before he faced Alex.

Once inside, he shrugged off his coat, toed off his boots, and hung up his hat on the hook by the door. The house was quiet, but he saw light coming from the living room.

On socks, he walked down the hallway and quickly washed his hands in the kitchen. He dried off his hands and went back into the hallway. The door to the living room was ajar. He pushed it open and looked around the corner in search for Alex.

When he spotted him and Ellie asleep on the couch, his heart soared. He entered the room, stepped closer, and looked his fill. Alex looked beautiful in the dim light of the room. His dark hair slightly tousled, his cheeks flushed from the warmth, and the sleepy baby draped across his chest. Michael pulled out his phone and took a photo.

Then he kneeled down next to the couch and softly stroked Alex's cheek. Alex stirred.

"You're back. I've missed you," he mumbled.

"I've missed you, too." He smiled. "Are you good on the couch with her, or would you like me to take over?"

Alex blinked his eyes open and assessed the situation.

"If I'm being honest, I wouldn't mind a bathroom break. Maybe you could take over. On my way back I'll make a bottle for her dinner. I don't think she'll make much of a fuss afterwards and should go to sleep fairly quickly. I defrosted a quiche this morning, I could put that one in the oven and when she's asleep, we'll have that and some wine in front of the fire."

"If I hadn't already married you, I'd ask for your hand in marriage again this very moment. I'm starving, and quiche sounds amazing," Michael exclaimed. He pushed himself up into a standing position, bent down, and gave Alex a lingering kiss.

"Hi, darlin', I love you."

Alex smiled warmly. "I love you, too." He shifted on the couch. "Do you want me to hand her to you, or will you float her over?"

"You can hand her to me, she has to wake up for dinner anyway," Michael said, reaching for Ellie.

Alex lifted her off of his chest and gave her to Michael. She blinked her eyes open and when she saw who it was who took her, she made cooing noises.

"Hello Ellie, my love. Yes, hello. I've missed you, too." He held the baby stable with his telekinesis, while he offered Alex his hand to help him up from the couch. Alex winced when he stood up and carefully stretched his stiff muscles.

Michael's eyes widened when he noticed Alex's sweater. "Oh my god, this is my early Christmas present tonight. My model husband, wearing an "ugly" Christmas sweater. Ellie, have you seen this? Have you seen how handsome Alex looks in his sweater? I mean, he'd give Colin Firth a run for his money any day, but wow, this sweater. I'm in awe."

Alex laughed. "You are silly, and I love you, I really have to go." He kissed Michael on the cheek. "I'll be quick."

Michael nodded and then turned his attention back to Ellie. She looked at him with big, brown eyes, then she smiled. Michael smiled back. "It's so good to see you, sweetheart. You have to tell me about what you and Alex were up to this afternoon."

Ellie made a gurgling sound. "No way," Michael exclaimed. "You read a book together? And played with your bunny? Sounds like you had a very busy day."

Michael continued to hold a rather one-sided conversation with the baby while Alex went to the bathroom.

When he returned to the living room with the warm bottle in one, and a large cotton flannel in his other hand, Michael was slowly dancing through the room, Ellie in his arms, and he sang "Jingle Bells" for her. She loved it and couldn't stop smiling and cooing.

Michael noticed Alex standing in the door and waved him over. As much as he'd loved to continue dancing with her, the bottle would get cold very fast, and if there was one thing Ellie despised, it was lukewarm formula.

"Dinner's served, Miss Ellie," he told the baby. "Where would milady prefer to dine tonight?"

~*~

Once Ellie was fed and asleep in her bed in the guest room, Alex and Michael returned to the living room. Alex opened the baby monitor app on his phone and set it up, then he put his phone down on the table in front of the couch.

When he turned around, Michael was standing in front of the wall where most of their photos were on display. He was looking at one of the framed photos, a picture of Michael, Isobel, and Max, shortly after they'd been found alone in the desert after hatching from their pods.

Alex walked over to Michael and hooked his chin over Michael's shoulder. "What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just this old picture of the three of us. Look how small we were."

Alex smiled. "Yeah, you were around 7 years old, I think. Or at least that's the age they assumed, right?" Michael nodded.

"Yes, 7 years old, and they made the day we were found our birthday on all the legal papers when it became clear that no one would come and claim us. Officially, I turned 7 on the day we hatched."

Alex kissed the shell of Michael's ear. "I'm so sorry that you have no way of finding out when your actual birthday is."

Michael turned around and looked at Alex. "Well, turns out I do, actually. That's why Max and I went on our little adventure today."

Alex's eyes widened. "You found out when you were actually born somewhere in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico? On Christmas Eve? How, Michael?"

Michael took a deep breath. "Not quite, but I think we found something that will give us some much-needed answers. I didn't tell you about this "mission" because I didn't want to stress you. It has to do with—" Michael took another deep breath. "It has to do with Mr. Jones."

Alex's breath hitched. "Michael, that was four years ago. And Jones is dead. Did you resurrect him? Is he in a pod?" Alex's heart beat faster, and he struggled to keep calm. He'd been the one who'd been taken by Mr. Jones. Jones had tortured him and left him for dead.

Michael had found him just in time to save him (with a handprint no less) from certain death. Then he'd organized a hunt for Jones that had ultimately ended with Jones being captured. The man had killed himself swallowing a pill filled with poison.

Kyle, Liz, and Michael had examined the body afterwards to make sure that Jones was really dead. They had buried him. How was it possible that whatever Michael'd been up to today, had to do with Jones?

"Is—Is Jones back?" His voice sounded small to his own ears.

Michael pulled him into a tight hug. "No, oh my god, no. I'm so sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to scare you. I did this all wrong. But please, don't worry. He's not back. What happened today has to do with him, in a way, but I swear, it's good news. Not a single thing to worry about."

Michael rubbed soothing circles into Alex's back, and slowly, Alex managed to relax.

Michael kept stroking his back for a while before he spoke again. "You mentioned earlier that you made quiche. And you mentioned wine. What do you think about getting comfortable, having dinner, and then I'll tell you what happened today?"

Alex nodded. "That sounds good. You should come with me to the bedroom, I have a surprise for you there," Alex mumbled into Michael's shoulder, still clinging to the comforting heat he radiated.

"My, my, our bedroom," Michael said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alex chuckled. "Not what you think. Come, let me show you, I've been looking forward to giving you this all day."

He took Michael's hand and lead him to their bedroom. He let Michael enter first and switched on the lights. When Michael saw the Christmas onesies on the bed, he laughed. Then he pulled Alex into his arms again.

"You bought us Christmas onesies? You are incredible and I love you so, so much. I'll just take a quick shower. Would you put the quiche in the oven while I'm in the bathroom? Then we can eat and have a glass of wine by the fire."

Alex nodded. "Alright. Meet you on the couch in 20."

They kissed and parted ways, Michael heading to the bathroom, and Alex to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, they sat down on the couch, both wearing the Christmas onesies Alex had ordered for them. The quiche was in the oven and two glasses of red wine were placed on the table in front of them.

Alex had taken off his prosthetic for the day and put on a thermal sock on his left foot. The first sip of wine warmed him from the inside, and he felt finally ready to listen to Michael's story.

Michael ran a hand through his still damp hair. "So, long story short. It all started with Max having some weird dreams about a week ago. Liz and I ran some tests but couldn't find anything unusual. Three nights in a row, he had dreams of a very prominent rock formation. He made a drawing, and after some extensive research, I found it. Like you said, it's in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. Max couldn't stop thinking about it. We just wanted to take a look at it, see whether we could find anything. Just to make sure that there was no immediate threat." Michael took a deep breath, then nipped from his wine.

"When we arrived near the rock formation," he continued, "we both felt this weird pull. We immediately knew that it was alien related, and after searching the area, we found the entry to a cave."

"You found an alien related cave in the middle of nowhere and investigated without any back-up? Michael, I feel like I'm getting a heart attack just hearing about this, even though you're sitting right in front of me."

Michael pulled Alex into his arms and kissed the top of his head. "I'm so sorry for worrying you, even though there's nothing to worry about. I swear."

Alex sat up again and looked at Michael. "You went into the cave, didn't you?"

Michael had the decency to blush.

Alex clenched his fists. "Michael, how could you?"

Michael looked at Alex, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Alex. We just had to make sure that no one was in trouble."

Alex sighed. "Okay, you went inside. What did you find?"

Michael's face lit up at the memory, and yet his eyes teared up a bit. "Alex, we found another pod."

Alex gasped. "Another pod? Michael, what on earth. I mean, not from this earth, obviously. Was there someone inside? Did you free them? Michael?"

A single tear ran down Michael's face: "There's a baby inside the pod Alex. And going by what Max and I were able to decode at the cave, this was Nora's and Tripp's child. A little girl by the looks of it."

Alex gasped when the realization hit him. " Nora and Tripp had a baby? Together? Are you sure?"

Michael nodded. "I'm fairly certain, yes. Alex, that's my sister in that pod, and your aunt. Or great aunt? I don't know, but do you understand what that means, Alex?"

Alex was at a loss and he struggled to think clearly. A baby. In a pod. A baby that was related to Michael, and to himself. A baby that was related to Michael, and to himself!

He felt like crying when he looked at Michael. "Michael, do you mean that—you and I—this baby—," he had to take another deep breath to center himself. "Are you telling me that there's a baby in a pod, a baby that's related to you and me. Are you telling me—Michael, what are you telling me?"

Michael's eyes were shining with unshed tears when he answered. "I think you know what I'm telling you, Alex, don't you? Please, tell me that you understand."

Alex nodded slowly. "You mean that I'll have to look into forging a birth certificate for her, and once everything's set up, and you and Liz have performed more tests, we'll release her from the pod and bring her home and raise her as our daughter. That's what you mean, right?"

Michael burst into tears and laughed at the same time. "That is exactly what I'm mean. Alex, what do you say? I'm sorry that I'm springing this on you, and there's still so many things to think and talk about. And I do want you to have a say in all of this. You don't have to make a decision tonight. And you can say no. I need you to know that. You can say no, and we'll be fine. Please, Alex, you can say no. I love you, no matter what, and I love you more than anything on this planet, or any other planet. I just—"

Michael's rambling was interrupted by Alex, who flung himself at Michael and kissed him harder and more desperate than he'd ever kissed him. Michael kissed back, and suddenly they were both crying and laughing and kissing, tears making their kisses taste salty.

They hugged each other tight and continued to kiss, until they both had calmed down considerably.

Alex took Michael's left hand in his. It was the hand his father had mangled with a hammer a decade and a half ago. The hand Max had healed. The hand, where a golden band around Michael's ring finger was a constant reminder of their endless love. He lifted Michael's hand to his mouth and kissed it. The back of Michael's hand, his fingers, the ring.

Then he looked up to Michael and nodded. "I love you more than life itself, Michael. I know how much you've dreamed about becoming a dad. At the same time, I felt miserable because it was clear, that I'd never be able to give you a biological child." Michael wanted to interrupt him, but Alex shook his head.

"No, Michael, please let me say this. I know that a biological child is not the answer, nor is it the only way to have a family. And I'm fairly certain, that there's one, maybe more, adoptive children in our future. But—there seems to be a child, a little girl, that in the most miraculous and inexplicable ways, is related to both of us. How could I possibly say no to this? I couldn't. I can't. I won't."

Michael's eyes were wide with wonder and wet with fresh, unshed tears, and Alex felt like he'd never loved Michael more than in this very moment. He linked his left hand with Michael's. "I'm in. I'm all in. You. Me. And our— daughter."

~*~

- One year (and one) day later –

Alex sat on the couch and let his eyes wander across their extended living room, taking in the things that were the same as the year before, and taking in the differences. The couch was the same, the fireplace, too. The Christmas tree wasn't the same, but it looked quite similar.

There were several new family pictures up on the wall, though, and their living room had at least doubled in size thanks to the large glass winter garden Michael had built over the summer.

"We have a big and growing family, Alex. When they all come over, we need the space. But even if it's just us, sitting in a winter garden is a great way to sit outside without actually being outside, especially during the colder months."

And indeed, it had become their new favorite room and personal oasis. Alex loved the in-floor heating, Rosa's contributions in the form of colorful throw pillows and a hand-woven tapestry depicting a starry New Mexico night, and Michael with his knack for plants, had turned the winter garden into a lush greenhouse.

Alex heard a noise from the hallway and turned his head, just in time to see Michael enter the room, holding a sleepy baby safe in his arms. Michael and her were both dressed in identically patterned Christmas onesies, matching the one Alex was currently wearing.

Alex's heart grew three sizes taking in the picture of the man he loved, and their daughter, Noreen. He still had to pinch himself sometimes to make sure he wasn't dreaming the whole thing.

But she was theirs. Officially. Had been for little over a month now, and it had been the most blissful time of Alex's life.

They had taken their time after Michael and Max had found the pod. Taken the time to examine it and all the documents they'd found in the cave. As it turned out, the baby had been born mere days before Nora had been captured and brought to Caulfield.

Only a week after the birth, Nora had insisted on putting her in the pod. Just for a little while, until it was safe for her and Tripp to be together. It never came to that, though. Nora had been taken, and when Tripp went to the cave and tried to free their daughter, he couldn't. He didn't know how to, and no matter how hard he'd tried, he'd been unable to get her out.

One day, Mr. Jones had showed up at his doorstep and offered to help. Tripp had been desperate and agreed to show Jones the pod. But Jones betrayed him and kidnapped the pod. He'd had no interest in the baby, he'd just wanted the pod for himself. Jones had also been unable to open the pod, though.

It took Tripp years to find the pod again. When he did, he brought it to the far away cave where Michael and Max had found it. Over the years, he'd gathered documents he managed to steal from Caulfield, schematics Nora had drawn, and a diary she'd written when she was pregnant.

There was a lot about Michael in her diary, about Louise, even Isobel and Max. It was a treasure trove of information and had provided the three siblings with many new details of their respective family's histories.

After Liz and Michael had determined that the baby was well, Alex had started the process of organizing legal documents for her. The official story was, that they got pregnant with the help of a surrogate out of state, and even though Alex and Michael were both eager to start their new family, they let a good nine months pass before they opened the pod.

Nora had programmed the pod in a way that would allow only two people with specific genetic traits to open it – her and Tripp. Since Michael and Alex were direct descendants of them, their handprints on either side of the pod opened it, and they had welcomed Noreen into the world on a sunny November day.

Michael walked over to the couch and sat down next to Alex. They looked down at the child - their child - in awe. She was absolutely perfect.

"I still can't believe that we get to have this, get to have her. Michael, we are so lucky." Alex choked up a little.

Michael wiped away a single tear that was rolling down Alex's cheek. "We really are."

He pulled Alex into his arms and kissed him. "Ready to begin this new chapter of our life when you are, darlin'."

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life, Michael."

[marvels-writings]

Wanted More

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) Masterlist

Requested by Anon (but it’s @summergeezburr​ ): hi, me is back. “All these years and you decide to break my heart now?” / “ Did I ever really matter to you?” / “I don’t know you anymore.” from the dialogue prompt. Reader was a player and has a bad reputation but fell in love with Wanda. Everyone tried to warn W about R, but it was W who ended up playin R. R watched as W and Vis got close/caught ‘em kissing. (up to you if fluffy ending or nah 😌) TYSM! -sgb

Word Count: 1, 608 (longish and angsty, slightly suggestive)

A/N: You know I can’t resist angsty requests, but I gave a happy ending

There was always something wrong with the way you took relationships. You never understood being able to spend longer than a month with someone. The girlfriends you had gotten clingy, then started to become serious after another month. Insecurity began to seep into them, fights began, then it got exhausting. You were never willing to fight for them.

You had a simple explanation as to why you never liked longer relationships, which require commitment, commitment requires rules. Rules spoil everything.

It made sense until you met Wanda.

——————-

“Y/n, this is Wanda, Wanda, this is Y/n,” Steve introduced both of you.

You gave her an award-winning smile and looked at her. She was gorgeous, her green-blue eyes boring into your own. Her auburn hair rested on her shoulders elegantly. Her soft features illuminated by the lighting of the club

“Nice to meet you,” Wanda said, offering you her hand. You took it and shook it before pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, smirking when she blushed.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” You winked at her. A plan already forming in your head to make her yours.

—————-

It started as friends, close friends, with the occasional sex. But nothing more, Wanda went out and met other people, as did you. But somehow, you always came back to each other. Neither of you ever understood it. Neither of you wanted to come out to the rest of your friends as a couple

—————————-

“Your friends keep telling me I shouldn’t do this,” Wanda whispered, your hand playing with her hair. Both of you lay in bed comfortably, the sheets covering both of you.

“Do what?” You asked curiously, playing with a few soft strands of hair.

“Get close to you,” Wanda answered, her voice a nervous whisper.

“Wanda, we’re just friends, there’s nothing wrong with that.” You bit your lip when the words came out of your mouth. Both of you knew you were not just friends.

“Is this how you treat all your friends?” Wanda asked with a smirk, trying to mask her hurt. She leaned up on one elbow, looking down at you.

“No, you’re just a special kind of friend,” You winked at her, pulling her closer to you.

———————————————

Natasha and Steve cared a lot for you, but they cared about Wanda more. They tried to warn Wanda about you, but she could care less. She brought up Natasha’s past with you, your ruined relationship with her. But it ended in you becoming close friends with her and trusting her.

Your friends had warned Wanda not to get close to you. You always broke up with whoever got close to you. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to break up with Wanda even after the fights. It was harder than you thought it would be.

It had been years since this had been going on. Neither of you committed to a relationship but kept being close friends and going out with other people. Whenever someone asked what was between both of you, you just said it was complicated. This pattern became normal for you.

So, you went to her place to pick her up for dinner in your Camero. You wore a black and gold leather jacket, a black halter top and ripped jeans. You went out for dinner at a pizza place every Saturday. Sometimes, you brought her back to your apartment. 

But you didn’t have your hopes high. You’d seen her start talking to someone named Vision a lot recently. You often made fun of his nickname, but you didn’t know why it made your blood boil whenever he put his hands on her.

When she didn’t come outside after you rang the doorbell, you used the spare key she had given you to go inside. After calling out her name and receiving no response, you went further inside to investigate. You heard a sigh coming from Wanda’s bedroom.

You opened the door, but instantly wished you hadn’t.

Wanda was kissing Vision, her hands on his collar, trying to take off his tie. His hands were on her skirt, close to sliding up. Soft sighs filled the small room.

Even though she wasn’t yours, it hurt to see her with someone else. Her lips on someone else’s lips, her hands on someone else. It hurt you in a way you never thought it could.

“I’m sorry I interrupted this,” You said angrily, hands set on your hips as you raised an angry eyebrow.

Wanda broke apart instantly. Lipstick smudged as she tried to slow her breathing. Vision looked up at you apologetically, he fixed his tie and quickly ducked out of the room. Before you could stop him, he had made his way out of Wanda’s house and towards his car.

The redhead wore a scarlet off-shoulder top with a black skirt flowing behind her. Her signature red leather jacket was on the floor. You looked at her, expecting an apology.

“I thought you were ‘just friends’?” You asked, making air quotes in the air. Wanda gulped, she could see how angry you were.

“We aren’t together, we haven’t been for years,” Wanda muttered, fidgeting with her hands as she avoided eye contact with you.

“All these years and you decide to break my heart now?” You retorted, rubbing your eyes with one hand and sighing. This wasn’t supposed to hurt this bad. You weren’t supposed to fall for her this bad.

“Y/n, you said yourself, we’re nothing more than friends,” Wanda argued, looking up at you.

How you wished you could take it back. You never meant it, you said it so she wouldn’t ask you to be her girlfriend. You never expected this.

“I thought we were more.” You muttered, composure breaking under her gaze.

“I didn’t think you wanted more,” Wanda said, getting off her bed and stepping in front of you.

You tried to distract yourself from her scent, from her touch on your hands. It wasn’t working, Wanda had you somewhere you never thought you would be. She had you in love with her.

“Did we even matter to you?” You asked, looking up at her through watery eyes. You clenched your jaw, trying to hold onto some golden pedestal you never wanted to step off of.

“ Did I ever really matter to you?”

“Of course you did,” Wanda whispered, lifting one hand to rest it on your neck, thumb stroking your cheek. You inhaled sharply, trying not to lean into her touch.

“Then why did you do this?” You looked up at her, watching emotions flicker in her eyes.

You couldn’t make anything out. There was hurt regret and hope. Wanda took in a breath, taking her hand away from your cheek and trailing her fingers down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I wanted more,” Wanda answered, regret filling her features. You frowned, stepping away from her as hurt filled your chest.

“I couldn’t give you more?”

Wanda flinched at your hard tone, she sighed and reached out for your hand. But you drew away, a tear slipping down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, determined not to show Wanda how much this was hurting you.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted to.” Wanda murmured, stepping closer to you. But you backed away.

Even though you’d always tried to hide your emotions, Wanda could see through your walls. She saw through everything, it scared you sometimes knowing you couldn’t lie to her. But she saw how much she was hurting you, it made her feel guiltier than she had ever imagined.

“So you just manipulated me into getting what you want?” You demanded, lifting your hands in exasperation and running them through your hair. 

“Sex and someone to lean on when you’re alone?”

“You know you aren’t just that. You know me, I won’t do that to you.” Wanda argued, heart, starting to break at how broken you sounded.

“I don’t know you anymore.” You whispered, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, sighing and pulling away. You backed away from her, trying to get away from her.

“Y/n…” Wanda trailed off, reaching forwards and taking your wrist, pulling you back into her. Her perfume invaded your senses, you clenched your jaw to try to keep some willpower over yourself.

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me, just tell me what you want from me.” You hissed, looking away from her.

Wanda let go of your wrist, using her hand to hook one finger under your chin and get you to look up at her. She could see all of your emotions in your eyes, hurt, regret, and something she never thought she would see. Love.

“I just want you to be mine, I want you to stay with me.” Wanda pleaded, thumb stroking the side of your cheek before brushing over your lips.

“Is that a lie?” You asked, not daring to hope in her words.

“I can’t lie to you.” Wanda murmured, stepping closer to you.

“You can, would you?”

“I don’t think I would,” The redhead leaned in, breath fanning over your face hesitantly.

She wasn't sure if you wanted her, but you pulled her closer to you by her neck. Melting into her lips instantly, you inhaled sharply when you felt her tongue slide along your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Then I’ll stay,” You whispered, leaning in again, and again, and again.

You never thought you would love someone. It never made sense to you to become completely enamored with someone. Wanda was still a mystery to you, but you were willing to stay to unravel it.

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @5aftermidnight​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @marvelbbyx​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ , @imnotasuperhero​  let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: Thoughts?

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Bulgaria brings a mentally reassuring anthem to Rotterdam 2021

I’ve said so that VICTORIA herself sort of agreed to have done “Tears Getting Sober” if she was allowed to, but for one I have to thank that EBU said that the artists can’t have their 2020 songs back? You’ll see why when I get to the review after two boring paragraphs of text with technical info, for the country that is Bulgaria!

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Victoria Georgieva (or VICTORIA, but I can’t be arsed to continuously capitalize her name so I’ll just say Victoria from now on) was born a singer, for she started to sing at the age 11, went to a specific school of angel voices (no really that’s what it was called), and tried to go to the X Factor while a liiiiiittle too young until realizing that she needed to wait for a few years, and wait a few years she did, and went on to the X Factor again.

She didn’t win, but she still got to sign a contract and sing some stuff in Bulgarian before she decided to rebrand, started singing in English, and completely decided that ballads is her style. She cannot really do upbeat most of the time. So you can’t really have a bop from her in the future. (Well except that there’s a couple of songs in her discography that I personally classify as “bops” but they’re more like... idek sad bops?? but they can be danced to, but I get her, she doesn’t do anything that’s more loud and upbeat and clubby and summery kind of - in short, nothing you can go “YAAASSSS QUEEEEEN” over to.)

The entry she ended up singing, “Growing Up Is Getting Old”, is what I can describe to be about overcoming the emotional twists and turns inside of you as you grow older, because as it turns out, it ain’t what you thought it would be - but if you push just a little further, you realize that if you’re growing up, maybe the life isn’t so bad, afterall - you are able to get up. Somehow. It was written as part of Boris-Milanov-led songwriting camp held during summer, and a lot of people seemed to be a part of it because multiple different folk have songwriting credits on the potential Bulgarian entries this year.

REVIEW

Let’s get this out of the way immediately. I prefer “Growing Up Is Getting Old” to “Tears Getting Sober”. The former sounds a lot less irritatingly underwhelming and a lot more positively overwhelming you with warm emotions and sunglow. “Tears Getting Sober” was a song I could never really connect with - maaaaybe the last chorus is much better on there, but it doesn’t do much for me either, I guess.

Their 2021 forray however is a much different kind of thing - once again, going for lyrical non-cliches, Victoria tells a tale about her inner turmoils and continuing in life, in a way that’s personal to her and also kind of relatable to all of us. We all have these moments of fear and anxiety and nervous systems aching. If only there was someone who’d tell us that we’re worth saving... thanks a lot Victoria, you’re the MVP. Filling in the void that Netherlands from last year had brought us but not anymore - another personal song about getting old and having those kind of feelings inside - and doing a great job at taking the baton in the right way (even with featuring the word “grow” in both of the titles, neat coincidence).

Not only the lyrics feel like a hug, the song just emulates ray of sunshine and golden glitter coming down from the sky, Molly Sanden style. The violins in the G major key playing so precisely, building up momentum throughout the entire song, slowly but surely - starting with the ticking clock in the first verse that may have subtle violin in there; and the first chorus is just so simple piano, and then the second chorus has a tinge of electronic something, and the last chorus goes full in with the backing vocals boosting the song, after Victoria performs the quite magnificent bridge... now I don’t have synesthesia but I associate music keys with colors, and to me G major would always come across as something yellow or orange - “Growing Up Is Getting Old” is a perfect example of why’s that for me. And obviously, Victoria’s love for harmony-humming (even if there’s just one instance of it after she sings “star crossed soul”) complements the song to a T.

And it turned out to be a much better choice than last year’s. Maybe finally a female ballad I am getting behind.

Now I wanna know why the bookies don’t appreciate THIS entry as much as last year?

Granted, now it’s 2021 and the environment is so much different, and the songs have changed, and the dynamics have changed, and now there’s suddenly more competition at stake. And for Bulgaria it fares quite much more underwhelmingly - well, at this moment they’re like 6th, which isn’t bad, but there’s a lack of sung praises coming its way, not quite a feat that “Tears Getting Sober” actually achieved, being the bookies fave right before the cancellation of last year. In general the year has been pretty dry for the previous winner picks like Iceland, Lithuania and this, but I can’t say that the previous winner bets from 2020 are all that dead either? Though I gotta say that Bulgaria wasn’t gonna win 2020 anyway, so it’s a lose-lose in this case.

Also I just can’t at that music video being a little dramatic at the beginning, with the cancellation of Eurovision being presented as if it were a worldwide disaster during which we all shall lock ourselves into bunkers and wait until the better days, eventhough the panini is not war and war supplies kit is not just enough to survive it. But it seems like that the world is quite literally falling apart, as evidenced by Victoria going through all kinds of pathways away from her living room, meeting a  (presumably) mini version of her somewhere in between, and literally surrounded by the shaking environment by the last moments of the song

before we realize it was just reality recursing from the TV’s point of view that Victoria was watching all along, and then she leaves the living room again, but in her world, everything is normal and she could just go wherever she wants by car. Even I can’t come up with a storyline ending that’s somewhat intertwined and all plot-twisty and more confusing than that. But props to her team I guess

Approval factor: Let’s say I somewhat approve this message. Follow-up factor: For the sake of argument let me just say that Bulgaria is moving on a great path, eventhough the former entry leaves me cold, at least the current entry keeps me warm at all times, like a cup of cocoa and a good blanket. Please Bulgaria, never run out of sponsors. Qualification factor: I’ve seen one or two people throw around the “surprise NQ” tag for this song and I don’t get why??? There’s no way that the tense atmosphere of semifinal 2 would sure-fire-ly kill Bulgaria, even if they have a lot less chances to win this year than they had the last one. There can be some shock NQs indeed though, and if there are, I am paging... uhhhhh Finland? Idk why but you might see what I mean if I ever get around to reviewing “Dark Side”. Bulgaria? Never. It may not win the semi but it will cradle around the top 7 somehow.

INTERNAL NF CORNER

That’s right, Bulgaria managed to do both.

At the time when one other of Bulgaria’s songs got released, within the *Special* Eurovision September 1st-onwards range, people naturally succumbed to their primal instinct of asking whether that’s her Eurovision song... only for Vic to probably announce this early on that no, it’s just *one* of potential ESC entries she’s harbouring. And the remaining potential ones were all on her debut EP. Who actually got a more well-orchestrated schedule for everyone to follow, and yet, people were much more keen to cling on the first EP song out of the gate, “Imaginary Friend”. Now I get that the fans of that song were super upset at the revelation that IF is not going, but it is a technically strong song for the sake of being a technically strong song, and I don’t want to think that Victoria is only forced to choose the songs that can win for her, so she’s such a sweetheart for gravitating towards a song she could dearly care about. So props to her team saving the initial winner for last to be revealed, lol.

Though wasn’t her personal favourite a Billie-Eilish-lite-upbeat-kinda-track Phantom Pain?

Which was also my personal favourite?

Look, I know that favouring the only non-ballad in the whole lineup (well “Ugly Cry” is also not quite a ballad but its beat is kinda so-so, so I tend to ignore it) is kinda sus, also, y’all are sick to death to Billie Eilish comparisons, but I do believe that Billie would never be able to do an “Imaginary Friend” while Victoria could do a “Lovely”. This makes me remember the cover art of Billie’s debut album where she sits on her bed, dressed in white, and so is Victoria on this very MV, with strange shit going on behind her in the mirror. To the mirror, her reflection acts creepy, back again.

The other 2 I don’t feel like caring about enough, sure they got their cred, sure there’s one entry properly crediting Milanov (who seems to not have an actual entry this year that’s purely attributed to *him*, as opposed to 3 last year, 2 of which were performed by acts that returned this year????), sure there’s the funny thing about having a funeral song where out of this and Finland only Austria managed to send a quote unquote “funeral” song, but I think the funeral song would’ve sounded better if the pre-section of it on the “Phantom Pain” video was THE “funeral” song itself, and not whatever was that other funeral song.

In between there was a public sort of survey where people could submit feedback and positive words to Vic’s choices to help her decide - I didn’t get to vote but I feel fine with the winner eitherway, and that counts for something! And the end result was revealed at the very end of Victoria’s very own rooftop concert.

The colors on the circle thingy of this, they were meant to symbolize all Bulgarian entries up to Victoria’s 2nd one, in pictograms that kind of reminded me of Coldplay attributing every song on ‘Mylo Xyloto’ its own little symbol.

The concert was not only full of music and also adverts for the inaugural sponsor iCard (that also included some element of foreshadow in between the suspense, you’ll see why), but also the Bulgarian folk talking before each song, saying all the positive nice words they can for Vic; that she’s talented, and that they were so excited that Bulgaria was doing well in the odds last year prior to cancellation, bla bla bla... also some people were proud of voting for Bulgaria outside Bulgaia, and they made puns about the forthcoming songs on the concert that they were introducing, and so on, and there was also someone called Dara, whom I really want to be sent by Bulgaria one day to show off that they’re not afraid of doing trashy-esque bops that don’t necessarily win

Also they reminded me that Lucy from No Angels (aka the sole reason Bulgaria 12′d Germany in 2008) still exists.

Also Azis.

There was also an intermission where Eurovision 2021 acts could say all the nice words to Victoria on their own part. And several artists chose to... how shall I put it... use up their several seconds rather interestingly. Like how The Roop would say something real quick only to delve into more of their usual “let’s dance, let’s discoteque! *hand scissors* ;P” self-promo, and Senhit carelessly being allowed to say whatever she wants in Italian without subtitles <3 Sorry sis, they’re only given to people from another white-green-red flag-color country.

About the iCard foreshadow... so there’s their advert about Victoria waiting in the line to get something in the Soft Vocals Store, and people ahead of her giving her money the standard oldfashioned way, and the old lady at the counter is... slow, to say the least. After a good amount of time spent waffling around, Victoria finally pulls out the iCard application and pays for the imaginary items she wants, then narrates some stuff about said application, and a Eurovision entry of hers plays when the old lady is at home, spending time in front of TV enjoying the music. Before the concert, the song that played was “Tears Getting Sober”. The advert played once more before Victoria’s big entry decision and entry MV reveal, and in place of the 2020 entry, “Growing Up Is Getting Old” was the one that sounded out loud... Now you may think that there were attempts at some sort of spoilage here, but after that ad before the concert EP NF result, there was this other advert starring Victoria that played “Imaginary Friend” at the end, a last-ditch effort to trick viewers into going “see? just because that ad played the chosen song doesn’t mean it’s the chosen song!! this song could as well be a chosen song as well!!” yeah no shut up GUIGO IS the chosen song kthxbyebye.

ANY LAST WORDS?

Having said all that praise, I actually have “Growing Up Is Getting Old” fairly low on my ranking. It’s just because the year is so damn good and I have a lot more songs to care about more than this, but I appreciate the gesture that this singer is sending very much. Good luck on your road to conquer Europe, Victory-ia, I’m sure you get the best of the experience and all, because you would deserve it.

[jojoreadwhat]

something infinitely interesting / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Matty's POV.

Mornings were never my favorite. Mornings were cold in the grays of London most of the time. When the sun would dance across wall panels, they were enjoyable. Only if you didn't have obligations of going to work or class. The worst were the ones where you didn't know where you were and how you got there in the first place.

Lying in a different bed that didn't form to your body like the one you owned. Looking at a person you knew you had made bad decisions with. Different variations of women. Some blonde, some brunette or fire red. The occasional pinks and blues.  Covers exposed their complexions, those cliches of tattoos or oddly shapes birthmarks.

Many of them I could never get the first letter of their name to roll off my tongue properly. Most usually asleep when I rummaged to find my belongings of the fun the prior night, many seeing me off on my walk of shame. Saying goodbye, 'last night was fun' or the simple 'call me' without even a number to reciprocate that type of request.

Then there were mornings as I lied in my own bed. The women rummaging my room with the same thoughts as mine. Looking for the bra I clasped off in one wince of my finger. The shirt that I may had loosened buttons to. Watching them discreetly as they would sit on my bed or the chair near my window, one shoe at a time before they'd say goodbye, occasionally being a gentlemen and seeing them out. But like most, they'd leave without a word and I was perfectly okay with that.

Mornings were changing recently though. I was waking up early now, willingly. The warmth that I never wanted to abandon from my duvet. Now was a small frame fitting into the crevices of mine. My face nestled in the lively scent of lavender intertwined in her golden brown hair. Waking up my senses like the fresh brew of Dark Roast that once use to be Colombian. Beginning to acquire a new taste for it once Lucy began staying over more frequent.

Often finding myself pulling her closer to my chest, resting to the patterns of her steady breathing. As slumber took her by the hands and had her wander that colorful mind full of different worlds like a map. One I was beginning to mark all the favorite places I had experienced from it and would love to visit when she'll let me.

There were mornings where she was facing me. Giving me time before she would wake up. Letting my eyes go on a adventure, without her questioning why. Enjoying how she was so beautiful and yet so unaware of it. Her brown hair falling around her face wildly as her hair beret tried to tame it.

My calloused fingers picking up a mind of their own as they pursued on a journey. Tracing every sharp edge or roundness of her bone structure that lied beneath her flawless ivory skin. Grazing her exposed skin that quickly goosebumps at my touch.

Tracing that feather tattoo along her collarbone or the lips that left this lingering cherry taste against mine. Admiring how good she looked in my clothes I let her wear when staying over wasn't the original plan.

++

This morning being slightly different when I heard soft sounds of one of my records spinning faintly. My white walls covered in my arrays of posters, looking slightly gray from the smoke meeting the sky. The bright ray of sunshine was standing near my dresser, looking at herself in the black frame mirror above it. Her dainty fingers fixing her hair.

I smiled at her. Watching as she slightly swayed to what was turning, her hips hugged by dark denim jeans. Wearing one of my big over sized jumpers, my favorite one with the slit at the shoulder blade. Enjoying how comfortable she was becoming with me.

Quietly without warning, I leaned up out of the duvet till I could grab a hold of the black worn out fabric. A little yipe slipping from those succulent lips. My lips attacking the exposed skin of her neck as I pulled her close.

"I have work." She cried slightly above a whisper. Her soft fingertips tracing the tattoo on the arm I had embraced over her torso. "I don't think Ms. Watkins would mind." I remarked, smiling at the little giggle that immersed. She then turned her whole body around to face me.

Her blue eyes meeting mine before I leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. "I don't think she would," She agreed with a sigh, "But it's a crucial week, I bet the aisles are swamped at this moment." It was the last week for all exams, assignments due. Anything else to keep credits and GPAs above high waters. It was also nearing when I would see Lucy off at the airport as she was going to spend the holidays at home. Trying desperately to push that thought further as I pulled her closer.  

Her fingers twirled into my nest of curls before her lips waltz with mine. The bed feeling chill every second she roused from laying in my arms. Watching as she slipped her cargo jacket on along with her bag. "I made you coffee." She pointed, then. Grabbing her phone off my nightstand. I sighed, playfully laying on her side.

"I don't want that." I muttered, my brown eyes meeting hers with a smirk. Her cheeks matching her rosy lips. "I know." Now bending down to kiss me again, "I'll see you in class." Watching her walk out the door.

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

Lucy's POV.

I sat slouched back in my chair in with the off shade white hall of Woman Studies. Watching Professor Mullen walk around in her floral blue dress. Her long brown hair painted with highlights to the middle of her back. Swaying with every step she took. Talking about several books we had read in under a ten slide span as the crucial notes paraded along the screen. Slyly repeating how 'important' this exam would for our final payoff.

I should've been paying attention. My mind racing from the third cup of caffeine I've consumed in the past hour and a half. Note pads open with my laptop brighter than the gray skies. Everything set up and ready for my hands to run across the keys and prepare.

None of it grasping my focus like my phone with repeated flowers on the case. Lighting up with the distraction sitting in the next lecture hall. Vibrating with the continuous conversation that we had left on back in Creative Writing.

Matty:  "If I had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes."

It read as Matty kept playing trivial with quotes. Smiling at the Burroughs quote because it was quite clear on what it indicated.

Lucy: Burroughs at his finest... I miss you too.

Running my hand over my forearm of the fabric that radiated of Matty's heavenly musk. Wishing I had called out and stayed immersed in it. Thinking back at the way I was engulfed into bed before I left. My hand moving from the fabric as it grazed the skin that Matty kissed last.

Matty: Maybe not as much as I do you.

Longingly looking over at the navy framed clock hanging on as it's arms moved slowly to the next hour. Professor Mullen's gritty voice echoing in my brain when I didn't want it nowhere near.

Like majority of this class, I was finding my mind trailing. Thinking about all the ups and downs the final outcome would payoff. I knew I had this all covered, my credits were still good. My grades flying high in vivid color like the flight I would be taking home next week for the Holidays.

Unsure why I was thinking about them in the first place as the reminisce of going back home payed a visit. Feeling this sudden warmth about hugging Eric and my dad after my time away. Visiting my favorite bookstore and coffee house in town. Nostalgia on the rise as it caught the curl of my lips.

It was sure going to be so nice to see them again. Decorate the tree on Christmas Eve and watch all the old carols. I sighed, it was mixed with the happiness of stepping foot back into New York and then the one thought I was trying to keep far.

I was going to be away from Matty for a week after being around him since I've arrived in London.

My last video chat with Eric. I finally confessed up to him about Matty. It was never a conversation I had prepared for, thanks to the extra push of tags on Facebook. My brother's reaction was not what I expected, he was happy for me instead of getting on the next plane to London. Insisting that I invite him on my flight back to home.

I hadn't brought it up yet that the offer was there. But I thought about it a lot. When I was wrapped up in Matty till the alarm wasn't being patient. That, that was going to be terribly missed back home.

When I looked at my leather bound that I used to paint murals of London. Just screaming as it was nearing to be replaced. All entries just filled to brim, with him being a lead character through out. Needing him there as I explained because there was no ways to explain or describe the ways he had over me or how his stubble tickled when he kissed me.

Professor Mullen dismissed us, reminding us one more time of the exam and it's importance. Closing out my programs and shoving all my things into my bag. Reminding myself of the text that Matty was waiting for me at the cafe.

[olderthannetfic]

I just realized it’s Fandom First Friday and the topic is meta!

For months, I’ve been slowly working my way through How To Be Gay by David Halperin, which talks about drag queens and how certain aspects of gay male culture appropriate from women to empower gay men. (Halperin uses the word ‘appropriate’ extensively, not necessarily in a negative context.) He brought up some points I thought were highly relevant for thinking about slash.

Last February, I went to Escapade and chatted with a bunch of acafans. To my total lack of surprise, they too love Halperin’s book and had the same reaction I did. I thought when I finish the book, I’ll write up some meta. But I got busy, and it’s a long, dense book. So then in August, I went to the final Vividcon. There, I ran into Francesca Coppa and mentioned this idea. Her response? “Oh, I just wrote a journal article about that.”

…

AHAHAHAHA! Oh god, we are the same person.

(NB: We are not actually the same person.We just have similar first names, similar fandoms, and similar flists back on LJ, have done similar fandom history oral history projects, go to the same cons, and have both been on the OTW board. Laura Hale once went so far as to “out” me as her. And now we like the same academic books too. Heh.)

So, obviously, now I have to write meta about this, and Fandom First Friday is the perfect time to take a stab at it. I have so much more to say and I want to go back through How to be Gay and pull out many more amazing quotes, but better to write something than wait for perfection.

What I found the most interesting about Halperin’s analysis was that he points out that women may find these funhouse mirror versions of femaleness upsetting, and those feelings are completely understandable and valid, but they don’t make drag any less empowering or significant for gay men. He neither thinks that we need to get rid of drag nor that women should stop having those reactions.

He also talks about how subtext is often more appealing than text: when he first started teaching his college course ‘How to be Gay’, on which the book is based, he assumed that students would connect more with literal representation of their identities. That’s the narrative we push: now that we have literal X on TV or in a Broadway show, we don’t need subtextual old Y anymore! Instead, many of his students loved things like The Golden Girls and failed to connect with current gay representation.

It’s a long book, but what many of his ideas boil down to is that a Broadway show that is massively subtextually queer allows the viewer to identify with any of the characters or with all of them simultaneously or with the situation in general. It’s highly fluid. Gay representation often means a couple of specific gay characters with a rigid identity. Emotionally, that can be harder to connect to.

Sometimes, allegory gets closer to one’s own internal experiences than literal depiction does.

Coppa’s article (book chapter?) is about exactly that. It’s titled: Slash/Drag: Appropriation and Visibility in the Age of Hamilton. She uses Halperin’s book but extends the idea further. I particularly liked her example of how female fans use Bucky to tell stories that are essentially (and often literally) about rape. His story is about a loss of bodily autonomy and about having one’s boundaries violated in a way that is familiar to female fans, but he’s a male action hero, so those stories don’t have the same visceral ick factor as writing about literal rape of literal women.

Partly, that’s due to how society treats men vs. women, but it’s also about which fans are writing these stories and which fans are the target audience of them. Just as a cis gay man appropriating Joan Crawford to talk about his experience of gayness isn’t really for or about women, most slash fanfic about Bucky being victimized isn’t really for or about cis gay men.

It was on the dancefloor at Vividcon that I realized that, as a woman, I have this unconscious feeling like I am appropriating gay men’s culture when I’m into Joan Crawford and other over-the-top female performers. It’s ridiculous! How can I be appropriating a female celebrity from gay men? But it’s an experience I share with lots of other women. Telling women we have no right to things is the bedrock of our culture.

That feature film Slash, which featured a bunch of cis male slash writers was inspired partly by the male director going on Reddit and finding a bunch of gay guys saying that slash squicks them. He felt that he was being progressive by erasing women.

On Tumblr, the fujocourse gets reblogged not just by toxic pits of misogynist, delusional bullshit like thewoesofyaoi, but also by seemingly reasonable fans. Hell, I’m pretty sure I used to suffer from this problem myself: I remember a time when I felt like I, as a bisexual woman, liked slash better, differently, and more correctly than straight women did.

I no longer feel this way.

There are lots of reasons for caring about slash, some of which are just about the pretty, some of which are more about gender, and some of which are more about sexual orientation, but after seeing decades of arguments about who is allowed to like slash, I have come to the conclusion that none of them are valid. All of them are “Not like the other girls!” and hating on femaleness. Some of the fans who do this are female and some are not, but it all boils down to not feeling like women have a right to a voice.

And then there’s Halperin calmly asserting gay men’s right to self-expression!

It struck me like a bolt of lightning because it was so self-assured. He never doubts that there’s something valid and important about giving gay men space to explore their own emotional landscapes. Literal representation is important, sure, but so is the ability to make art that speaks to your insides, not just your outside, and that sometimes means allegorical, subtextual art played out in bodies unlike your own.

“Fetishization” a la Tumblr often means writing stories with explicit sex or liking ships because they’re hot. Sometimes, it means writing kinks that are seen as dark or unusual. Frankly, this sort of fujocourse boils down to thinking that sex and desire are dirty and that m/m sex is the dirtiest of all. I do write some ~dark~ kinks in my fic because, for one thing, I’m a kinky person in real life, and for another, I often use fic to explore the experience of having dark thoughts and wondering what that says about me.

A lot of slash writers are exploring feelings of victimization. Another big chunk of us explore things like rape fantasies from the bottom: maybe we have and maybe we haven’t experienced assault in real life, but for all of us, having that kind of rape fantasy brings up questions of whether we’re asking for it, whether it’s okay to be into that kind of thing, whether it means something. Another chunk of us are exploring a different kind of “bad” thoughts: feelings of aggression, violence, dominance. In my own work, I’m interested in sadists and how they come to terms with their desires, but I think slash is also often a way to explore any sort of violent, dark feeling, not just rape fantasies from the top. Society tells us women aren’t allowed to have dark thoughts–hell, that we’re not capable of impulses that dark. Sometimes, it’s easier to write even a relatively banal action story about a male action hero because he, in canon, is allowed to have the feelings and impulses that interest the writer.

The fujocourse is all about saying that women aren’t allowed to have dark impulses ever. That we’re not allowed to be horny. That we’re not allowed to enjoy art for the sake of an orgasm. When we depict people not precisely like ourselves, we’re overstepping. When we make art for our own pleasure instead of devoting our lives to service, we are toxic and bad. Any time. Every time.

It’s just another round of saying that women’s pleasure is not valid and women’s personal space should not be respected. No hobbies for you: only motherhood.

And yet that’s not actually what most slash fans think. I was heartened to read Lucy Neville’s Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys: Women and Gay Male Pornography and Erotica. A friend read it recently and was trying to guess which quotes were from me. I have to admit, I was playing that game too! I honestly couldn’t tell, until I looked at demographic info, that some could not have been mine. They sounded so familiar. On Tumblr, I tend to wade into meta discussions, so I see a lot of loud, divisive views. I especially see a lot of views that, over time, make me start to wonder if I’m a crazy outlier. Intellectually, I know that this is all down to bad curation of my dash and a love of browsing the meta tags. I didn’t realize how much it had crept up on me unconsciously–how much I had started to feel like I had to justify and explain the most basic and common experiences of being a slash fan.

What was interesting about Neville’s book is how alike many of the women sounded. Now, no one book represents everybody, and she makes no claims to have figured out the exact size or demographic breakdown of fandom. Her focus is on women who like m/m material, whether slash or porno movies or anything else. At the same time, though, she surveyed heaps of women, and the responses were amazingly similar. Nearly every quote in that book strikes a chord with me. Nearly all of them, with a few minor variations, could be something I’ve written. Gay, straight, bi, asexual: we all had many of the same things to say about slash and what it means to us.

So, some brief, and more digestible thoughts:

Slash is “overrepresented” in meta and scholarly literature because people still ask us to justify ourselves constantly.

People ask us to justify ourselves because they assume that “good representation” is literal representation.

There are key emotional, psychological aspects of our experiences that are often better expressed allegorically, whether we’re gay men doing drag or women writing slash or any other sort of artist.

Here are some choice quotes from Coppa. (I will restrain myself and not just try to quote the entire thing. Heh.)

“There are endless transmedia adaptations of characters like Sherlock Holmes or Batman, so it is clearly not appropriation that’s the issue: it is the appropriation by the other—by women, in this case.

One could argue then that it is our awareness of this appropriative doubleness—of the familiar characters acting in an unfamiliar script, of the female storyteller animating the male characters— that boots slash out of “literature,” with its illusions of psychological coherence (see Edwards’s Chapter 3 in this volume), and puts it instead into the category of performance, itself so often associated with the fake, the female, the forged, the queer. My argument in this chapter is that it might be useful to compare slash to other forms of appropriative performance; drag comes powerfully to mind and, more recently, the musical Hamilton. These are forms where it’s important to see the bothness, the overlaid and blurred realities: male body/Liza Minnelli; person of color/George Washington.”

“In his book How to Be Gay, David Halperin (2012) discusses the ongoing centrality of certain female characters to the gay male cultural experience and takes as his project an explanation of why gay men choose those particular avatars and what they make of them. Halperin argues that gay men use these female characters to articulate a gay male subjectivity which precedes and may in important ways be separate from a gay male sexual identity (or to put it another way, a boy may love show tunes before he loves men, or without ever loving men). The gay male appropriation of and perfor- mance of femininity effectively mirror—in the sense both of “reflect” and “reverse”—slash fiction’s preoccupations with and appropriations of certain (often hyper‐performatively) male characters in service of a female sensibility; in both cases, appropriation becomes a way of saying something that could not otherwise easily be said.”

“A character like Tony Stark or Bruce Wayne speaks, obviously, to boys who are getting mixed messages about what successful manhood looks like in the twenty‐first century—it was hard enough in the old days to be Charles Atlas, but today you have to be Charles Atlas and Steve Jobs at the same time, which is a problem of time commitment just for a start. But these characters speak to women, too: differently. The doubled nature of the paired male characters taken up by slash fandom—these aliens, these costumed heroes, these men wearing man suits, men in male drag—make them appealing sites of identification for women, or proxy identities, to use Halperin’s (2012) term; that is, they provide “a metaphor, an image, a role” (185). They are sites of complex feeling.

But what these characters are metaphors for, what they make us feel, is not simple, singular, or easily reducible. Halperin takes hundreds of pages even to begin to excavate the complicated web of meanings around Joan Crawford; I am not going to be able to unpack any of these iconic male characters in a few paragraphs, and it is also the nature of fandom to build multiple and contradictory meanings around fan favorites (and to get into heated arguments over them).”

[In Halperin’s class] “Works that allowed gay men to be invisible were preferred to those where they were explicitly represented. “Non‐gay cultural forms offer gay men a way of escaping from their particular, personal queerness into total, global queerness,” Halperin (2012) writes. “In the place of an identity, they promise a world” (112). I would argue that slash offers something similar—that queer female space, as well as the ability to escape the outline of the identity that you are forced to carry every day—and that for gay men and slash fans both, the suggestion that you would restrict your identification to those characters with whom you share an identity feels limiting.”

“Visibility is a trap,” Phelan (2003) concludes, referencing Lacan (1978) (93): “it summons surveillance and the law, it provokes voyeurism, fetishism, the colonialist/imperial appetite for possession”—and fans on the ground know this and talk about it in very nearly this language. Again, this is not to say that fans—or gay men, for that matter—do not want or deserve good representations: female fandom, slash fandom included, championed Mad Max: Fury Road, Marvel’s Jessica Jones, and the new, gender‐swapped Ghostbusters, all of which have multiple and complex female characters. Rather, I am arguing that representation does not substitute for the pleasure or power of invisibility; for, as even the most famously visible actors say, “But what I really want is to direct.”

[glitter-lisp]

So... a couple weeks ago maybe? I sent @sanders-sides-thuri​ an ask about Analogical pretending to date for a psychology study, and she asked me to tag her if I wrote any more. Well, here it is! It kind of evolved into something I wasn’t planning, but here’s 3k of that most delicious fake dating trope: Four times Virgil and Logan pretended to date, and one time they didn’t have to.

"Virgil, what is this?" Logan asks when Virgil slams a piece of paper down on the table in front of him, covering the stack of papers he was grading.

"It's a golden opportunity," Virgil says. "Read it."

Logan does, and his eyebrows climb higher up his forehead with every word. "Virgil, we are in no way qualified to partake in a study about romantic couples."

"Uh, yeah we are," Virgil says. "Look at that, we fit three out of four requirements. We're over eighteen, we live together, and we've been best friends for years. Well over six months."

Logan rolls his eyes. "The key word being 'friends.' We're not dating and we never have been. Did Roman put you up to this?"

Virgil snorts and drops onto the chair across from Logan. "Are you kidding? He would have wanted to do it himself, but he and I fight way too much to be a couple. I would have asked Patton, but we all know that he can't lie to save his life."

Logan sighs and rubs at his temples. "So you want to pretend that we are dating? Just for some study? Virgil, as a scientist myself I don't know how comfortable I would be deliberately skewing the results of someone else's-"

"Read the bottom line," Virgil interrupts. Logan scowls at him but does as he's told, and his eyebrows shoot up so quickly that they actually bump his glasses down a ways on his nose. He fixes them quickly and glances back up at Virgil.

"Am I reading this correctly?"

"A hundred dollars per participant," Virgil says smugly. "Not per couple. Per participant. If that's not a good enough reason to pretend we're dating, I don't know what is."

Logan can think of a few better reasons, but none that he feels comfortable actually saying to Virgil. Instead, he smirks. "Well then, darling, let's go lie to some grad students."

Logan has been waiting for Virgil for ​several minutes when he finally sees his friend walk into the campus Subway, backpack slung over one hunched shoulder. Virgil's hands are crammed in his pockets and he's got this studiously blank expression on his face that Logan recognizes from years of friendship. Virgil walks unerringly towards the booth in the corner where they always sit, and even though the benches are tiny Logan scoots as close to the wall as he can manage so Virgil can cram himself in to sit next to him instead of across from him. The second he sits down, slinging his backpack underneath the table, he drops his head on Logan's shoulder.

"Deep breaths," Logan murmurs. "Match my breathing. You can do it."

"'M not panicking," Virgil mumbles, but he matches Logan's breathing pattern all the same. "Just fuckin' miserable."

Logan wriggles his right arm free from where it's pinned against the wall and reaches up to pet Virgil's hair. "Tell me what happened?"

Virgil lets out a long, slow sigh and leans even harder against Logan. "'Are you sure you're really ace?'" he says in a mockingly deep, smooth voice. "'Bet you just haven't had it good enough. Bet I could show you what you're missing. Come on, sweetheart.'" Logan can't see his face, but he can hear the scowl in Virgil's voice. "He called me sweetheart. And he used actual, honest to God finger-quotes around the word 'ace.' Like I fucking made it up. Asshole."

"Agreed," Logan says flatly, continuing his methodical brushing through Virgil's hair and using it to calm himself down. There's no point in getting angry about it right now. All it would do is upset Virgil. "This is the same cretin that's been harassing you all semester?"

Virgil squirms uncomfortably but doesn't lift his head from Logan's shoulder. "I wouldn't call it harassment."

"I would," Logan says. "And you still maintain that reporting him would make it worse?"

That finally gets Virgil to look up. "Yes," he says, voice firm despite the way his lower lip trembles. It's just barely noticeable. Logan probably wouldn't notice it, if they weren't squeezed onto the one-person booth the way they are. "He'd just get angry. I don't want him angry. There's only a few weeks left in the semester. I can put up with it."

"I don't like it, still," Logan mutters, and Virgil drops his head back onto Logan's shoulder. "I trust your judgment, of course, and if you say that reporting the problem will make it worse than I believe you. But surely there's another way to make him stop." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "What if I pretended to be your boyfriend? And, you know, postured a little bit?"

Virgil sits back up and huffs out a laugh. "What? Are you serious?"

"Of course," Logan says. "I'm always serious. Do I look like I'm joking? I'll stop by after your class on Tuesday and pick you up, introduce myself as your significant other, and make a few disparaging comments about him." Virgil doesn't say anything, just stares at him, and Logan clears his throat awkwardly. "Unless, of course, you're not comfortable with that. I don't want to assume. I simply meant that I would be willing, if... if you are."

"I am," Virgil says quietly. "I just. Thanks, Logan. I really appreciate that."

"It's no trouble," Logan says, heart pounding in his throat. "No trouble at all."

"I'm going to kill her," Virgil seethes. Logan sighs and, after looking around the living room to double check that Patton isn't around, props his feet up on the coffee table.

"I would appreciate you not killing my mother."

"I'll maim her then," Virgil says, stomping into the living room from the kitchen and almost slamming the box of pizza down next to Logan's feet. "Threaten her?" he tries when Logan frowns. "Not punish or take my anger out on your mother in any way no matter how much she deserves it?"

Logan gives him a thumbs up. "Bingo," he says. "Hand me a slice, please. I'm honestly too exhausted to do it myself."

Virgil scowls but does as Logan asked. "It doesn't piss you off at all, the way she talks to you?"

"I think you get pissed off enough for the both of us," Logan says dryly. "No. It doesn't."

"You came out to her in high school," Virgil snaps. "Almost a decade ago. And she just, what, thinks you've been faking it all this time? The hell."

"Seven years is not 'almost a decade,'" Logan says, but he can't muster the energy to sound properly scolding. "She's just confused, I think. I've never actually dated another man, you know. She just wants to make sure I'm happy."

"But you are happy," Virgil says around a mouthful of pizza. "You are, right? And you'd be happier if she'd get off your back about your sexuality. Just because someone doesn't date a lot doesn't mean they're wrong about who they like."

"I know that," Logan says, dropping his head back against the back of the sofa. "And you know that. My mother, on the other hand..." He shrugs and finally takes a bite of pizza. "She just has a habit of projecting, I think. She's never been happy when she's on her own, so she can't understand how I am."

"Lame," Virgil says, turning sideways on the sofa so he can sling his legs over Logan's. "Super lame. The lamest. Would she calm down about it if you told her you were dating someone?"

Logan takes another bite of pizza, chewing slowly as he mulls it over. "She might?" he says finally, only looking up long enough to swallow before dropping his head back down. "I don't know. I assume so. If nothing else, it would serve to show her that I am, in fact, gay."

"Cool," Virgil says. "So tell her we're dating. You and me. It'll be great."

Logan raises his eyebrows. "Will it?"

"Sure," Virgil says with a shrug. "It's not like we'll have to do anything all that different. We'll just cuddle a little more next time we go home to visit. She'll calm down and finally accept that you're gay, and you won't have to stress about it. It works out for everybody."

"Does it work out for you?" Logan murmurs, and Virgil cocks his head to the side.

"Hm?"

"Does it work out for you?" Logan repeats, louder. "What do you get out of it?"

Virgil smiles and knocks his knee into Logan's shoulder. "I get to help my best friend out and further the gay agenda. What more could I need?"

"I'm gonna throw up," Virgil wheezes. Logan, curled up next to him on the floor, squeezes his hand reassuringly.

"You're not going to throw up," he says. "You're going to take deep, slow breaths with me and you are going to make it through this beautifully."

"I'm not," Virgil sobs, chin tucked down against his chest. His legs are both curled in close, and the whole tight little ball he's made of his body is trembling against Logan's side. "Why would he-" He breaks off into more ragged sobs, chest hitching unevenly as he cries.

"It's not fair," Logan says, and thinks it might be the greatest understatement ever spoken. "And it was cruel of him. You deserve better than that."

"Like it wasn't enough that he fucking cheated on me?" Virgil hisses. "He has to invite me to their wedding? What the- what the hell? What's wrong with him?" Logan doesn't answer, and Virgil finally pulls in a full breath. It's long and shuddering, but Logan still counts it as a win. At least, until he hears the next words out of Virgil's mouth: "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Logan says automatically. "This is not any kind of a reflection on you, Virgil. He was a piece of shit, frankly, and I will forever be sorry for what you went through with him, but none of it was your fault."

"He said," Virgil says, voice cracking. Logan squeezes his hand even tighter and leans against him more, knowing the pressure helps ground Virgil.

"Yes, and what did I say about that?" he murmurs. "What did Roman and Patton say? One idiot's opinion doesn't hold more weight than your best friends', does it?"

"No," Virgil whispers. "I just- I thought I was over this. It's been almost a year, and I... I didn't even miss him anymore. I don't. Just coming home and seeing that in the mail was..." He shudders. "Why would he do that?"

Logan sighs. "Because he's mean, and he's petty, and he's insecure. He knows, I think, that you were always too good for him, and instead of working to improve himself he's lashing out at you the way he always did."

"Fuck him," Virgil says wearily, leaning back against Logan. If either of them moved at this point they'd both topple over, the way they're bent in towards each other. "Maybe I should go, you know? Like, he's trying to show me up, so I should show him. Go and just look great and show him that I'm doing fine without him."

Logan smiles and tucks his head down close to Virgil's. "You are, you know. You've made great strides since you left him. Every day I'm proud of you and of the progress you've made."

Virgil doesn't respond to that, but Logan doesn't expect him to. He's never been good with compliments. Instead, Virgil offers him a sly, if still slightly shaky, smile. "You should come with me."

Logan cocks his head to the side. "Why? I mean, I'm happy to go with you, of course, but why me? He always hated me."

"Exactly," Virgil says with a smirk. "He couldn't stand you because he was jealous of how close you and I were. So if we go now, and like, tell him that we're dating..."

A slow smile spreads across Logan's face. "Salt in the wound."

"Salt in the petty, asshole wound that he basically caused himself," Virgil corrects. "And then blamed me for. And then rubbed in my face, which, gross. Bleeding wound. On my face. And the salt, and the-"

"I think I get it," Logan interrupts. "He was cruel, and now you're going to prove to him that you are both better and pettier than him."

Virgil laughs, finally, and Logan feels a wave of relief hit him at the sound. "Better and pettier," he repeats, giggling. "Sounds about right. So, Logan, shall we crash a wedding?"

"You were invited, actually, and allowed a plus-one, so it wouldn't technically be-" Virgil clears his throat, loudly, and Logan smiles. "Yes. Let's crash a wedding."

"You know, it's weird," Virgil murmurs while they stand in line at the bookstore. "I don't think I ever really listened to audio books before you introduced me to them. And now I'm like, obsessed."

"Yes, well, I have impeccable taste," Logan says. "And I know you very well. I'm glad you enjoy them so much."

"I can help you right here," the cashier says, waving them over. She rings Virgil up while they chat, then asks, "Are you a member of our reward program?"

"Uh, no, sorry," Virgil says.

"Would you like to sign up?"

"Oh, he can use mine," Logan interjects before Virgil can answer. Virgil bites his lips, and Logan rolls his eyes. "You let me use your employee discount at the record store. Saving you a few dollars is the least I can do."

Virgil blushes and ducks his head but nods, and Logan relays his phone number to the woman. When she hands Virgil his bag, she offers them both a small smile. "You two are a cute couple," she tells them, almost conspiritorially.

"Oh, we're not-" Logan begins, at the same time that Virgil says, "Ha, thanks."

They both freeze. Logan swallows. "Um," Virgil says. "Uh."

"You were... being polite?" Logan guesses. "Accepting a compliment? There was no need to correct her, that was just me, um, correcting her."

"Yeah," Virgil says. "Just, you know me. Polite. Always following, um, societal rules and thanking people when they say nice things even if those things aren't... true."

"Excuse me," the cashier says, "I'm really sorry, but there's a line behind you two."

Logan shuffles to the side, and Virgil follows, clutching his bag so tightly his knuckles go white. "It doesn't have to be a big deal?" Logan asks, wondering why he turned that declarative sentence into a question.

"Right, yeah, of course," Virgil agrees. "Totally not a big deal. 'Cause like, it's not like I even actually think of you as my boyfriend, because that would be seriously crazy."

"So crazy," Logan says. His voice comes out as a wheeze. "Because you're not my boyfriend. And I'm not yours. We're good friends. Best friends. Who are boys. But not boyfriends. Men, actually. Manfriends, because we're adults."

Virgil inches closer. "Kind of a ridiculous title. Good thing we're not that. We're completely platonic friends. Who occasionally, you know, pretend to be dating, because of circumstances outside our control."

Extenuating circumstance, Logan tries to say, but the words don't make it out of his mouth. What comes out instead is, "Of course, we could control those circumstances. We kind of do, anyways. There were times when pretending to date really wasn't the easiest or simplest solution, but we did it anyways."

He takes a small step forward at the same time that Virgil does. Their toes bump together. They don't move away. "Yeah," Virgil breathes. "Kind of funny, isn't it, how we keep going out of our way to pretend to date each other. If it was anyone else I'd say that they did want to date each other."

"Right?" Logan laughs. "But it's us. And I know us. And I know you don't want to date me."

"What?" Virgil frowns suddenly, cocking his head to the side. "No, it's that you don't want to date me. I'd date you in a heartbeat. Duh."

"Why?" Logan asks, baffled. "I'm ridiculous. You would never date me. I would date you, of course, but-"

"Wait." Virgil holds up a finger, eyes narrowed, and Logan shuts his mouth with an audible click. "I would date you. And you, apparently, would date me."

"I- yes, that seems accurate," Logan says slowly. "On my part, at least, and I'm going to trust that you're telling the truth about your feelings on this matter."

"I super am." Virgil bites his lip then slowly, slowly, lowers his hand until it's touching Logan's. Never breaking eye contact with each other, they awkwardly entwine their fingers. "So... we should be dating. Because we both want to."

Logan licks his lips nervously. "Is it possible we're already dating? I mean. We share discounts at half a dozen stores. We go out to eat, see movies, and get coffee regularly. This, right here, could be considered a date."

Virgil ducks his head, but not before Logan catches sight of his smile. "Uh, yeah, yeah. This could definitely be a date. We could very much be dating. Um. Dating, us. Yeah, we're dating, I think."

"Are you my boyfriend?" Logan asks, a slow, delighted grin spreading across his face when Virgil nods. "And I'm yours?" Another nod. "We're boyfriends."

Virgil laughs and squeezes Logan hands. "Yeah, we're boyfriends. You're my boyfriend. And we're dating! And we're boyfriends!"

Logan can't help but bounce on the balls of his feet in excitement, and he can't help but laugh when Virgil does the same. "Best friend boyfriends!" he cries gleefully. "Who are dating! I know I'm being ridiculously repetitive and redundant, but-"

"But we're boyfriends!" Virgil says, still laughing. He let's go of Logan's hand and Logan feels a split-second of disappointment before Virgil is wrapping his arms around him. He's laughing, and Logan is laughing and hugging him back, and then he remembers how close they're standing to each other when someone brushes past them on their way towards the door and sends the two of the careening into the counter.

"Ow," Virgil wheezes, and Logan grunts when the bag with Virgil's audiobooks in it slams into his back. "Um. We should probably leave."

"Agreed," Logan says, still trying to get his breath back. He rights himself, checks to make sure Virgil has also regained his balance, and offers his hand. "Shall we?"

Virgil grins and takes his hand. "Let's."

[taytaybooks]

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT MUSICALS THREAD #1: ANASTASIA

So I know heaps of people do/have done this but I really enjoy picking at and analysing things & I’d like to do something for myself rather than just reblogging once in a while, so I’ve decided every Tuesday I’ll post a “What I Love About Musicals” post and it’ll be sort of like a thread (all of them will be under a tag #what I love about musicals thread). So off we go!

*I HAVE EDITED THIS AFTER FINDING AN OBC BOOT*

PROLOGUE: ONCE UPON A DECEMBER

The haunting sort of “ahhs” at the start of the song

The costumes!!! (Romanov’s Last Dance)

The lighting!! It’s so cool, during the Romanov’s Last Dance, the lighting is red and when it goes dark after the last streak of red light (it’s like lightning!) 

THE SNOW!! It’s such a pretty touch😍

A RUMOUR IN ST. PETERSBURG

The sound of a busy town at the start of A Rumour in St. Petersburg

DEREK KLENA AND JOHN BOLTON IN GENERAL

“It’s really very friendly if you don’t mind spies”

LIGHTBULB😂 

 Vlad hitting Dimitry with his hat oml😂

Anya’s “NO”, showing her PTSD

“I could never part with it” “2 cans of beans comrade?” “Done"😂😂

“There’s more to being Anastasia than wearing a tiara, Dmitry”                       “Not much, look how many people you fooled"😂 I AM SHOOKETH

“And with luck we won’t be shot” then the thud that represents a gun shot straight after- that’s clever af

The way Derek sings “The biggest con in hisTORY”

IN MY DREAMS

“Her? Have you gone crazy too??”

CHRISTY ALTOMARE IN GENERAL WHAT A SMOL BEAN

“In my dreams shadows call” 😍😍

Again the haunting “ahhs” right after “But I know it all will come back one day”

“Is it Paris? …Paris”

“I’ll meet you right there, in Paris” the way she sings this oml

“I’ve seen flashes of fire Heard the echoes of screams” 😍

The crescendo of the orchestra at “don’t give up hope come what may”

Christy Altomare is a powerhouse tbh 

 ALSO THE SETS ARE 100% BETTER

LEARN TO DO IT

“Could it be?”

“Am I floating?” “Like a sinking boat” THE DYNAMIC OF THE TWO AHH DIMYA

When Vlad moves his arms so it’s like he’s flapping wings😂 

“You’re the ones who don’t stand straight”                                                        

“It’s all his years of bowing and katowing” 

“Bowing is a sign of respect”

“I bowed to someone once” 

“There, you admit it!” 

“I was a boy, I didn’t know any better. That was the first and last time-"😍😍 the end of In a Crowd of Thousands makes this interaction 1000x better

“I never cared for stroganoff”

“Your best friend is?” “My little brother Alexei” “Wrong! Your best friend is-” “I know who my best friend is!” “What a temper!” “I don’t like being contradicted!” “Well that makes two of us!” And poor Vlad is like fuckkkkkk why? It just shows their whole dynamic and I love it

“I’ve had it, and I hate you both!”

“Get out and let me be!”

Dima getting hit with the chalkboard lmaooo 

 Anya & Dima stepping on each other’s toes 

 The dancing!!! This trio is GOLDEN. 

 "Tomorrow we begin again” 

“In Russian…for the common man”

THE NEVA FLOWS

“A Russian telephone that works” 

 “…that was a joke…yes we have wonderful telephones” 

 Gleb low key gets everyone to leave him and Anya alone haha

The intro to The Neva Flows

“The world stopped breathing"😍

“But I believe he did a proud and vital task” his voice gets stronger and then at “The Neva Flows” the orchestra gets stronger/crescendoes

“Could I have pulled the trigger if I’d been told” I loved the way it was shouted in the Hartford production but I also love how tender it is in the Broadway Cast Recording

MY PETERSBURG

Anya chasing people & fighting them what a girl 

 HER BATTLE SCREEEEEAM

"Wanna see what else I can do!!”

“Black and blue welcome to my Petersburg” and then her jump lmao

“Funny how a boyyyy can grow”

“There’s a sky and quite a view Welcome toooo My Petersbuuuuuuurg”

ONCE UPON A DECEMBER

I love the costumes and dancers in Once Upon a December

THE GHOSTLY SILHOUTTES

Again the haunting “ahhs” after “figures dancing gracefully across my memory”

Just Christy Altomare in this performance in general- she’s amazing in this song

How tender and soft it gets at “things it yearns to remember”

STAY I PRAY YOU

In “Stay I Pray You” the ensemble hums and ahhs again and it’s different from “Once Upon a December” but still haunting in a way and it gives me chills

“How to go where I have never gone before” - it starts off emotional but their voices go down and softer towards the end😍

“I’ll bless my homeland” I love how it starts off as the trio then one by one they leave Anya alone to sing the last line

WE’LL GO FROM THERE

is so jaunty I love it

“Hands shaking, heart thundering, meet the Royal mess” the whole vibe changes and I love it

Those women who are low key very annoyed with Dima for standing on their bench

The canon effect of dmitry and anya

“For a totally illegal lovely getaway” makes me smile every time

The part where they all sing their respective parts 😍

Their long as note at the end

“With orders to arrest two men and a young woman” 

“That could be anyone” 

“I don’t think so” 

*holds up a wanted poster with their faces on it* lmaooo

Anya leading the jump off the train

“Anya can’t go on any further. She’s exhausted”- Vlad

STILL

“is it innocence or guile”

“A son becomes a man!”

“To fulfill!”

“I’m innocent she cries but then you see her eyes and something in them tells you that she absolutely lies”

“Still” at the end because that note

JOURNEY TO THE PAST

When she sits down on the suitcase but gets up at “How the world seems so vast”

The way Christy sings “fear” in Journey to the Past

“Home love family I’ll never be complete until I find youuuuu”

The whole last verse

“And bring me home at laaaaaaast!”- the iconic set change where the scene changes & the Eiffel Tower comes into view 

PARIS HOLDS THE KEY (TO YOUR HEART)

Ok the Hartford version of “Paris holds the key (to your heart)” was hilarious- I loved Gertrude Stein and her “rose is a rose is a rose” quotes

“Paris holds the key to her fate We won’t have much longer to wait And then come what may We will each go our way…” The mood/vibe shifts and it sounds slightly magical (I assume this is when she wears the pink dress?)

I love Anya’s new part in it, it sounds so magical

VLAD “At last, there’s a future”

DMITRY “There’s freedom”

ANYA “There’s hope”

ALL THREE “In the air!” - these lyrics are so optimistic and I adore it

The fucking dancing lmaooooo

CROSSING A BRIDGE

“Somebody’s daughter” I just love the way this is sung I don’t know why

her voice Oml

“In between wondering why and finally knowing”

“Me on the left bank you on the right” again the way she sings it

“Almost in siiiiiiight”

“One of them might be you” again she sings it so beautifully gah

CLOSE THE DOOR

“The Grand Duchess Anastasia is dead. The Dowager Empress is dead with her” this breaks my heart every time

The emotion in “Close the Door” always breaks my heart

The repetition of “to me” in the first verse 😭

It’s just all so raw and it’s beautifully sung with equal amounts talent and raw emotion

“In my heart I know you’re a lie I’ve waited for” I cry man

“Tell them all no more Tell them I close the door” 😍😭

LAND OF YESTERDAY

“No caviar”

“And Russians are mad” never fails to amuse me

“In dire circumstances” I love the way this is sung

The small dance bit with the aristocrats just chatting and watching etc😍 and then the music gets faster

“Let’s live in the land of yesterday” it’s almost as if she’s whispering and it sounds so good

“And let’s hold the world at bay” that note tho and she just danced 😍

THE COUNTESS AND THE COMMON MAN

is hilarious, Catherine O’ Connor is amazing as Lily

“We tiptoed off to Peter Hoff” the way he sings it

THE DANCE SECTION and how they act tired afterwards

THE KISS

“And how my heart beat when you sent me our sign”

“I loved you You loved me”

VLAD GIVES LILY HIS JACKET WHAT

Also Land of Yesterday Reprise is awesome

IN A CROWD OF THOUSANDS

The ahhs and ghostly silhouettes again before Dima comes in

THE WHOLE SONG. JUST ALL OF IT.

The introduction

“How they cheered How I stared"😍

“And then she smiled” the way it’s sung and the lyric itself

“But if I were still ten In that crowd of thousands I’d find her again"😍😍😭

“Then a boy caught my eye” that head lean he does like wtf

“He was thin Not too clean"😂😍 and they both laugh 

“I tried not to smile But I smiled And then he bowed”

“I didn’t tell you that” “You didn’t have to. I remember!” The pure emotion in their voices😍

Then when they hold each other ahhh

And then “in a crowd of thousands I’d find you again”

Ok so in the broadway boot he cups her cheek & they almost kiss, like why do you have to play with my emotions like that

“Your highness” then he bows ahhhh it’s so cute especially since he made fun of Vlad for bowing in Court in “Learn to Do It”

MEANT TO BE

Ok so this is super smart: when the Parisians/Russians etc come on stage the instrumental to “Paris Holds the Key (to Your Heart)” plays, then when the Dowager Empress walks on to the stage, the instrumental to ”Close the Door” plays, and when Dmitry walks on, the instrumental to “In a Crowd of Thousands” plays 😍

Vlad and Lily doing their ‘signs’ lmao

Vlad trying to clean Dima’s cheek bahaha then Dmitry is like shove off

The way it turns sort of magical/enchanting when Anya comes out in that iconic blue dress and Dmitry is shining his shoes and he looks up slowly in awe then quickly holds his arm out for her after he gets up and she takes it and they walk in to the ballet ahhh

QUARTET AT THE BALLET

The dancers are top notch and deserve more recognition

IT IS UNDERRATED

“Am I only dreaming Looking at her face” is sung so beautifully

Dmitry’s part in it (second verse)

The Dowager and her raw emotion and denial in the third verse

“Don’t be ridiculous”

“My heart and mind at war The times must change The world must change And love is not what revolution’s for”

“It’s fate that brought us here"😍 Derek and Ramin singing together gah

When they’re all singing their respective parts

Especially Dmitry’s part when it’s chaos tho “Home, Love, Family She will have all of it! I will help her Find a way Anastasia”

And that last note as all the parts merge into one part “find a way Anastasia” plus the fact that DIma looks at Anya when singing this

EVERYTHING TO WIN

THE WHOLE SONG

“Why should I worry Worrying’s not like me”

“I wonder if our paths Will ever cross again The way they Did when you were eight and I was ten”

“We said this was goodbye But even so You never know You never knowwww”

“I didn’t know she mattered to me But now I can see she does”

“Funny the one small part I never knew… With everything to win The only thing I lose *instrumental to the ‘home love family’ part of Journey to the Past plays* Is you”

Those are some of my fave parts and lyrics because it’s such a cute song

Dmitry stomping on the Dowager Empress’ dress and the Empress slapping him 

ONCE UPON A DECEMBER (REPRISE)

“Save it for your next Anastai- your Imperial Majesty”

I love the new addition of Anya’s new dress

It’s so simple- there isn’t a huge orchestral presence yet it’s so effective

“It’s never too late to come home, Nana”

The “Anastasia!” The Dowager Empress says at the end- it’s so emotional

THE PRESS CONFERENCE

“P-O-P-O-V” Vlad is great, this always makes me smile

“Suffice to say You’ll meet today The little lost princess” and the uproar from both the press and Lily herself, I find it hilarious. Good old Vlad

“We’re nearly read to begiiiin” Love how she sings this honestly

“Is she the princess anastasiaaaaaa” I love how they hold this note because it’s this huge question everyone has, and it’s been on their minds for so long.

“Members of the press This waaaaaaay” Caroline is a goddess her voice ahhh this is sung so well I love it

EVERYTHING TO WIN (REPRISE)

“I didn’t know he mattered to me But now I can see he does..” So cute

“The only thing I lose Is…” *gets cut off by Gleb* but still cute

STILL/THE NEVA FLOWS (REPRISE)

“Gleb” the emotion in her voice Oml

“If you really are Anastasia Do you think history wants you to have lived?” This is so important because that’s actually such a big part of her story- there are those who kept those rumours going to get through the day and those who tried to stop the rumours and hunt down any Anastasias so they could kill her and finish off the Romanov bloodline.

“Yes! why don’t you?” The emotion in their voices

“I am my fathers daughter” “And I am my fathers son!!” Again emotion

The ahhs from the ensemble it’s so haunting and chilling

And how the lighting changes to red to show the danger she’s facing 😍😍 and the ghosts of the fallen Romanovs walking in to show impending death but when she doesn’t get shot they slowly back away to show the danger is no longer there

“Imagine their terrors See their blood” SO EMOTIONAL

“We have a past to bury Anyaaaaa” THE EMOTION & THE LYRIC AND THE WAY ITS SUNG IN GENERAL

The ensemble when they sing “and the Neva flows, a new wind blows” it’s so chilling

And in the Hartford production when Christy shouts “I AM THE GRAND DUCHESS ANASTASIA NIKOLAEVNA ROMANOV”

“Be careful what a wish may bring A revolution is a simple thing!” It’s so emotional, the crescendo of music kind of stops and then there’s silence- we expect a gunshot but he still couldn’t do it - Broadway Gleb is nicer I guess? Like you can’t help but sympathize with him so when he whispers “I can’t” afterwards it’s sort of sad & heartbreaking

FINALE

“She was a dream” “A beautiful dream” symbolises that for so long no one knew what happened and then we found out she really did die- so her survival and Anastasia herself were really part of this beautiful dream.

“Still…” Symbolises those who still had hope she lived.

The ensemble singing the Once Upon a December verse

“Once upon a Deceeembeeeeer” is honestly such a beautiful way to end the musical and with Dimya just standing there together ahhhh so cute

And how there’s a spotlight on Dimya just before all the lights go out at the end

So basically I LOVE THIS WHOLE MUSICAL

Feel free to add anything guys xx💙💙

Other Threads 

Amélie

[phynxrizng]

HEKATE AND AUGUST, CELEBRATING THE HARVEST, THE STORMS, WITCHCRAFT, KEYS, AND CHILDREN

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Get newsletters and updates Toggle navigation PAGAN Hekate and August: Celebrating The Harvest, Storms, Witchcraft, Keys, and Children

JULY 30, 2018 BY CYNDI BRANNEN

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There is a multitude of Hekatean celebrations during August. We can celebrate her connections with the harvest, witches, storms, keys, and children during this month. Here’s a summary of each of them with suggestions for practices and rituals. 

  Hekate and the First Harvest

“But, again, the moon is Hecate, the symbol of her varying phases and of her power dependent on the phases. Wherefore her power appears in three forms, having as symbol of the new moon the figure in the white robe and golden sandals, and torches lighted: the basket, which she bears when she has mounted high, is the symbol of the cultivation of the crops, which she makes to grow up according to the increase of her light: and again the symbol of the full moon is the goddess of the brazen sandals.”

–  Praeparatio Evangelico

There are many goddesses who are primarily associated with agriculture, such as Demeter (I’m writing an article about her for the Fall Equinox). However, Hekate is not dissociated from crops either in history or in modern practice. I’ve included the above quote from an early anti-pagan treatise as an example of the many passages in the ancient texts connecting Hekate to crops and harvests.  I’m a bit obsessed with all the delicious tidbits for practice in Eusibius’ text. It’s public domain, so check it out if you are so inclined. Here’s another example connecting Hekate to the harvest:

And upon those who work the bright, storm-tossed sea and pray to Hecate and the loud sounding Earth-shaker, the illustrious goddess easily bestows a big haul of fish, and easily she takes it away once it has been seen, if she so wishes in her spirit. – Hesiod’s Theogeny

This quote, to me, reflects Hekate and the First Harvest: she bestows it and can also prevent it or destroy it. This quote connects to the other celebrations this month (more on that later).

Honoring Hekate on The First Harvest Correspondences/Offerings: Local produce, especially grain and garlic, roses and other local flowers. Honey and/or beeswax candles have been associated with Hekate since the early days of her cult.

NOTE: There is no ancient epithet specific to Hekate and the harvest. Ekdotis means bestower which could certainly be appropriate as an honorific to her in conjunction with personal prosperity and the bounty of the land. The earlier quote from Hesiod could be recited and The Orphic Hymn to Hekate is especially apropos for harvest rituals.

Meal: Local produce and fresh fish if possible, prepared with plants from her ancient garden such as sage, saffron, bay laurel, and garlic. Olive oil is the appropriate fat.

Practice: Consider adding a daily gratitude practice to your Witches’ Hour of Power starting at the beginning of August. I’ve written a First Harvest article with practice tips and a ritual that can you find here. Another thing I will do is honor Hekate as the World Soul since it is her fiery energy of creation that is so abundant this time of the year. You can read one version of this ritual here, just adapt it to the First Harvest. This is an excerpt:

Mighty Hekate, Soul of the World, Like Your serpent, I am an agent of creation. As the dragon, I breathe Your fire with my words. My fears turn to ash through Your sacred alchemy.

Mighty Hekate, Soul of the World, May You be woven into my very being. Your colors of black, white and red Becoming my essential fire.

Hekate and Storms Hekate’s Night is observed on August 13. It’s also celebrated as Night of Hekate as Goddess of Witches (below). The quote above from Hesiod firmly connects her with the harvest and storms. These two aspects reflect Hekate’s powers of creation and destruction, both necessary part of the life cycle, including our own.

I’ve always associated Hekate with storms because I erroneously interpreted her epithet of Brimo as connected to the weather. Since I made this mistake years ago, Hekate has become associated with storms and with this night by many others. I also discovered Hesiod’s take on Hekate which is so similar to my own. After dark on August 13, I recommend that you pay your respects to Hekate as the Storm Bringer. You can perform a simple ritual that honors Her for seeing you through the storms of life and seek her guidance for the future ones. If this date happens to be close to the day of Hekate as Guardian of the Children, you can perform a two-fold ritual. In 2018, this night happens to fall close to the Dark Moon, the time when many modern Hekateans honor her as part of their monthly activities, so the events can easily be combined.

Honoring Hekate as Brimo I wrote about Hekate as Brimo, her stormy side, that may inspire you for practice and ritual ideas. You can read it here. This is an excerpt:

Hail Hekate Brimo, Hail Hekate The Fierce, Hail Hekate The Terrifying. May I be prepared for the storms of life, May I honor You through my actions, May I learn from your gifts. Guide me through life’s storms.

Hekate as the Witches’ Goddess The Night of Hekate is also interpreted as a celebration of Hekate as the Goddess of Witchcraft by some modern traditions and practitioners. Since the Deipnon is near the 13th in 2018, it’s suitable to perform a ritual specific to this aspect of Hekate.

Honoring Hekate as Goddess of Witchcraft I suggest making a list of all of your witchy abilities and offering gratitude to Hekate for them. Witch it up all the way with a chthonic (Under World) altar, loads of black and midnight wandering along sea cliffs with your coven or friends while carrying torches. The torches are very important. One time we almost ended up making ourselves oceanic offerings. My Witches’ Prayer to Hekate may inspire you. Feel free to use it as you will. Save it in your Book of Shadows if you like. The full text can be found here.

Mighty Hekate, Queen of the Witches, You have bestowed upon me the power of the Witch. Through the gifts of  Your sacred keys, I am the walker between the worlds, The spinner of the web of fate, The knower of Your secrets, The student of Your mysteries, The giver of Your healing. – from “A Witch’s Prayer to Hekate”

You can also connect to her two most famous witches, Medea and Kirke. Click on their names to read my review of their stories, correspondences and suggestions for practice.

Hekate as Keeper of the Keys All summer long, I celebrate Hekate as Keeper of the Keys of all creation and also as the symbolic key holder for all the gates and crossroads in my life. Not that she isn’t Kleidoukhos the rest of the year, but there is something about the bounty in the land during this season that reminds me of her in this capacity. I wrote more about this in my article on Hekate and the Summer Solstice.

Honoring Hekate as Kleidoukhos The three previous celebrations all honor different but connected aspects of Hekate. One way to combine them is by honoring her as Kleidoukhos, Universal Key Holder and Gatekeeper. Since Hekate as associated most strongly with the number three, a ritual involving a key each for harvests, storms and witchery would be fantastic. I am hosting an event on the Keeping Her Keys Facebook page for everyone interested in celebrating her in this way. The idea is to select roles of Hekate that you feel most closely connected with rather than any prescribed set of ones. I wanted to celebrate the diversity of the ways us Hekateans experience her rather than having a rigid format. Find the event here. Read the Ritual of Hekate of The Nine Keys here.

Hekate as Guardian of Children “There were three dates set aside to honor Hekate as Kourotrophos, Guardian of Children. Those dates correspond to specific phases of the moon cycle. While the ancient calendar is a bit tricky to interpret using our modern one, the dates can be estimated. The days were held on the 27th day of the January-February moon cycle, the third day of June-July moon cycle and the 16th day of August-September moon cycle. You can work with Hekate as the Guardian of Children on any of these dates. A suitable ritual that includes thanking Hekate for the children in your life and seeking her blessing over them is appropriate. In the Wheel of the Year, Hekate as Kourotrophos is honored during the August-September moon cycle with a ritual, although you can work with Hekate in this capacity any time you feel led.” – from Keeping Her Keys: An Introduction to Hekate’s Modern Witchcraft available for pre-order. 

Honoring Hekate as Kourotrophos Practice and Ritual: I have an entire article dedicated to Hekate as Guardian of Children, including a ritual: http://admin.patheos.com/blogs/keepingherkeys/2018/06/hekate-guardian-of-the-children-ritual-of-blessing-protection-and-rescue/

I always do a special ritual for my sons, their classmates and all children the day they return to school which is conveniently around the same time as the ancient dates for this festival.

Celebrate The Bounty of Hekate, the Land and Your Life I am a big fan of August, but I say that about every month. Personally, the beginning of August this year marks the 10th anniversary of the first time I led a big Hekatean ritual. You can read the story here and perhaps incorporate the evocation of Hekate that was first performed that evening. The current version can be found here. It warms my witch’s heart to hear how others have used this in their own workings. However you celebrate Hekate, the land and your own life this month, I wish you bounty in all things.

Join Us All month we are celebrating Hekate in The Witches’ Realm, including my study group on Modern Hekatean Witchcraft, events and more. You can apply to join on the main Keeping Her Keys Facebook page.

TAGGED WITH: AUGUST BRIMO CHILDREN ...MORE   by Taboola Sponsored Links You May Like Considering an SUV? These Are the 10 Most Fuel Efficient Kelley Blue Book Vet Brings Home Baby Deer With A Missing Leg Only To Discover That He's Not Everything He Seems Honest To Paws Here’s Why Guys Are Obsessed With This Underwear… The Weekly Brief | Mack Weldon

ABOUT CYNDI Cyndi Brannen is a witch and spiritual teacher living the coastal life in rural Nova Scotia. She is a trained energetic healer, psychic and herbalist. Merging together her training in shamanism, Tarot, past life work, meditation and her twenty year career as a psychologist, she teaches and writes about better living through witchcraft. She founded Open Circle about a decade ago which now offers online courses, including The Sacred Seven: A Course in Applied Modern Witchcraft. She has written the forthcoming Keeping Her Keys: An Introduction to Hekate’s Modern Witchcraft. Hekate’s Modern Witchcraft: The First Key is a year-and-a-day course that will start November 1. More info at keepingherkeys.com You can read more about the author here. PREVIOUS POST

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[starlightafterastorm]

11 Questions Tag!

I was tagged by the lovely @theheavycrown​. Sorry for getting to this days later!

💛 💙 Riverdale themed questions!  💙 💛

My 11 questions for you are…

1. If you could see Cole & Lili act their parts of Bughead in any movie AU, what would it be?

This is a tough question because that is exactly the plot of my next Bughead AU fic “TOP SECRET TITLE HAS BEEN REDACTED FOR SECRECY”

I will say that it is a movie that has been featured heavily on my blog before and is one of my favorites of all time. 

OTHER THAN THAT. I’d love to see Cole and Lili/Betty and Jughead in a real noir classic. Casablanca or The Big Sleep. I’m also very partial to Key Largo. Something with Bogie and/or Bacall in it. 

2. If you could switch two characters positions in Riverdale, while maintaining their personality, which switch would you want to see?

I think I’d love to see any of the Core Four switch. How interesting would it be to either the girls or the boys switch roles in terms of economic status and circumstance? Or all four of them switch around? 

Also, an interesting switch would be Kevin and Reggie. Can you imagine sassy, cocky, and not the brightest bulb in the box Reggie as Betty’s closest guy friend and confidant vs Kevin, totally out of the closet and peppy but slightly antagonistic and Archie’s football rival? 

3. Bughead is getting married - describe the wedding. (Colors? Flowers? Theme? Cake? Decor? Readings? as ideas)

Here’s the thing. Betty and Jughead wanted to elope. They TRIED TO ELOPE. Multiple times. But something happened every single time. When Veronica found out she immediately demanded she be allowed to throw them their wedding. And Veronica goes all out. 

I’m thinking a sky blue color scheme matched with soft peaches and cool pastels. It’s held in a garden and Betty has some peach colored roses, so pale they’re almost white, wrapped with a blue ribbon and dotted with crystals as her bouquet. 

Everything is all delicate white lace and rose petals and Betty has flowers weaved into her hair. 

The cake is a giant 7 tiered monstrosity Veronica had ordered from a famous chef with chocolate layers and vanilla layers and a strawberry layer and even a lemon layer somewhere in the middle. It’s decorated very simply with sugar flowers tumbling down the side and golden crowns and stars mixed in. 

4. What is Jughead’s favorite food that Betty makes?

French toast with berries and powdered sugar and syrup. It’s the kind of breakfast Alice would make but then monitor Betty’s portions. The kind of breakfast that Jughead only ever got if he had enough cash to spare at Pop’s  or if Fred was feeling fancy after Jughead slept over. It’s not super elaborate but it’s fiddly enough that it’s not an every day kind of breakfast. French toast is for luxurious saturdays or lazy sundays. French toast is for pampering sick days or silly breakfast-for-dinners. French toast means sharing a plate piled high and fighting over the last berry and sweet kisses that linger for hours. 

5. If Jughead could have any superpower, what do you think he would choose?

I think Jughead would choose telekinesis. So often Jughead has so little control over his life that I think he would choose telekinesis, a power that allows you to physically control the environment around you. 

6. What do you think Betty’s favorite romcom would  be?

Legally Blonde. Betty has a weakness for Reese Witherspoon in general. Sometimes it’s a “Just Like Heaven” night. Sometimes she feels like “Sweet Home Alabama”. (Jughead complains but he honestly really loves Sweet Home Alabama too. He uses the “So I can kiss you any time I want” line all the time. Also he sulks when Betty won’t let him try to make glass sculptures during thunderstorms)

7. Bughead is going on their honeymoon, if price was no object, where would they go?

They’d go on a food tour through Italy. Sitting in the sun, walking through the vineyards, and eating all the pasta they could possibly stand. 

8. If Betty had a tumblr, and she could have any url, what would it be?

nightmarewithlipstick (which is actually a real tumblr though it seems to be empty?)

It’s based off of the Toni Morrison quote “A dream is just a nightmare with lipstick” from her novel “Love”. I’ve not read it but I plan on it and I have no doubt Betty has read it. Something about that quote just jumps out at me and I love the phrasing of it and the darker hints of duality that I think would appeal to Betty

9. If you could hang out with the Core Four for the day, what hang out activities would you want to do?

Eat at Pop’s. lol. Do they ever do any other hanging out activity? Watch a movie at the Drive-In probably. Somehow convince Veronica and Betty to go all out in a shopping spree complete with spa treatments afterwards. (No seriously what other normal teenage hanging out activities are they allowed to do?)

10. What do you imagine the first song Archie attempted to learn on guitar was?

Ok bear in mind I never played guitar but I did play piano and my best friend plays guitar. I think Archie would have chosen something super simple like a children’s song. Mary Had A Little Lamb. (For the feels: It also reminded him of his mother, Mary, and how she used to sing that song to him as a kid)

11. If a theme song played whenever Veronica entered the room, what would it be?

I thought I had the perfect song for this and then I realized that song would actually be more perfect for Cheryl. For VERONICA, I would have to say either “Barracuda” by Heart or “The Wicked Ones” by Dorothy. I love me that classic rock feel and I feel like Veronica needs something with some edge. (tbh I’d pick something with some rock feel for all the girls)

Thanks for the tag! Gonna tag @raptorlily, @burberrycanary, @lusterrdust, @createandconstruct, @smoochmejuggie, @jugandbettsdetectiveagency, @lizzy92rc, @somebooksmakeusfree, @coledemort, @writing-as-tracey

My 11 Questions for you are 

1. If you could change one thing (and ONLY ONE THING) about season 2, what would it be? 

2. If you could steal one thing from a character’s closet what would it be? (ex. Veronica’s pearls, Jug’s beanie, Cheryl’s spider brooch, any of Betty’s sweaters, Archie’s... letterman jacket?)

3.  Would you rather take a ride on Jughead’s motorcycle or have Archie serenade you with a song he wrote himself?

4. Who’s your favorite secondary/minor character? (Trick question. The only correct answer is Pop) ;D

5. Favorite song they’ve used on Riverdale so far?

6. What would you have named Polly’s twins? (Juniper and DAGWOOD? Really Polly?)

7. Favorite line from the whole show?

8. What song do Betty and Jughead choose for their first dance at their wedding?

9. What are Betty and Jughead’s patronus’s?

10. What is Jughead’s guilty pleasure movie? What is Betty’s?

11. FMK: Reggie, Sweet Pea, Hiram Lodge. 

[joannalannister]

please, tell me a little more of your feelings on cersei burning the tower of the hand (if this is already in your tags, i am so sorry: mobile gives me the useless "there is nothing here")

Are you. Sure you want my feelings on this. Because I have. A lot.

Ok, so, one of the things that I love about ASOIAF is that it’s a story about stories.1 The Frog Prince, the Evil Queen, the Beast, the Huntsman, the Wicked Stepmother, Cinderella, Snow White, Red Riding Hood, the Witch – they’re all here. GRRM takes these timeless stories and twists them and turns them, telling them from the POV of the villain and other distortions. We glimpse their dim reflections over and over in GRRM’s dark funhouse mirrors, in Sansa and Arya and Lysa and Quentyn and Sandor and Tyrion and so many others.2 But obviously the character I want to talk about here is Cersei.

Cersei’s story is shaped and I would even say weighed down by fairy tales and famous literary figures. She is the Evil Queen, she is one of GRRM’s Wicked Stepmothers, she is Guinevere and Lady Macbeth and Clytemnestra. 

But I think one of the most interesting fairy tales Cersei embodies is Rapunzel, the Maiden in the Tower. Rapunzel, “the girl with the impossibly long golden hair” “is a story about sexual desire and obsessionand cruelty. […] ‘Rapunzel’ islargely a story about feminine power.” And Cersei’s story is her navigation of power in a world that actively denies her power, and it all ties into the Tower of the Hand. 

I will quote from Forsyth’s book, The Rebirth of Rapunzel: A Mythic Biography ofthe Maiden in the Tower, throughout this post to illustrate the similarities between Cersei and Rapunzel, and to discuss what this means for Cersei’s narrative.

Compare

At the age of twelve, Rapunzel was locked up in a tower

to

[Jaime] had joined the Kingsguard for love, of course. Their father had summoned Cersei to court when she was twelve, hoping to make her a royal marriage. He refused every offer for her hand, preferring to keep her with him in the Tower of the Hand while she grew older and more womanly and ever more beautiful.

Compare

The heroine of the tale begins as a maiden, keptvirginal in a high place. Symbolically, […] hergolden hair, growing with such fecundity, can be seen asa symbol of life and strength and regeneration. 

to

Cersei was reclining on a pile of cushions. Her feet were bare, her golden hair artfully tousled, her robe a green-and-gold samite that caught the light of the candles and shimmered as she looked up. […] Is this the Cersei that Jaime sees? When she smiled, you saw how beautiful she was, truly. I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair. 

The text explicitly associates Cersei with the green and gold of summer, a season of growth, life, bounty, “fecundity”. 

Compare

Rapunzel let down her hair and the King’s sonclimbed up into the tower. […] he spoke kindly to her and asked her to take him for herhusband. […] The King’s son then visited herevery evening

to

He remembered that night as if it were yesterday. They spent it in an old inn on Eel Alley, well away from watchful eyes. Cersei had come to him dressed as a simple serving wench, which somehow excited him all the more. Jaime had never seen her more passionate. Every time he went to sleep, she woke him again. By morning Casterly Rock seemed a small price to pay to be near her always. He gave his consent, and Cersei promised to do the rest.

“I am sick of being careful. The Targaryens wed brother to sister, why shouldn’t we do the same? Marry me, Cersei. Stand up before the realm and say it’s me you want.”

[ “let down her hair” // being informal, dressing down ie Cersei dressing as a servant || “the king’s son climbed” // sex metaphor]

Rapunzel’s long golden hair is extremely important in the Maiden in the Tower story:

Because hair continually replenishes itself, it has for centuries been imbued with symbolic power. In social-political history, having one’s head shaved can be a form of humiliation. […]

In such stories, hair is nearly always associated with strength, power and sexuality; in other words, with the potency of life. Hair is thus linked to the magical thread of life which is spun, measured, and finally severed by the Three Fates of ancient Greek mythology.

The witch’s scissors are reminiscent of what Milton described as the “abhorred shears” of Atropos, the third of the Fates. […] the cutting of Persinette’s hair by the fairy can be seen to be symbolic of both the loss of her virginity and a kind of metaphoric wounding, or death. However, the cutting of the braid can also be interpreted as the cutting of a symbolic umbilical cord, and Persinette’s expulsion from the small tower room as a kind of birth. As discussed earlier, the key psychological drama of gynocentric mythology is that of birth, life, death and rebirth. So the cutting of the maiden’s hair symbolically ends one life and begins another.

And Cersei’s hair is considered a great part of her beauty. (But Tywin is shown as bald, Jaime’s head is shaved, and even Pycelle (Secret Lannister)’s once magnificent beard is shorn off, symbolically positioning House Lannister as antithetical to “the potency of life” and in opposition to ASOIAF’s life-affirming themes.)

Compare Rapunzel’s punishment for her sexual awakening

[Rapunzel] is symbolicallywounded by the crone, her hair (a symbol of life and thethread of fate) being cut by shears. 

to Cersei’s punishment

Septa Unella beckoned to the novices. They brought lye soap, a basin of warm water, a pair of shears, and a long straightrazor. The sight of the steel sent a shiver through her. They mean to shave me. […] She would not give them the pleasure of hearing her beg. I am Cersei of House Lannister, a lion of the Rock, the rightful queen of these Seven Kingdoms, trueborn daughter of Tywin Lannister. And hair grows back. 

Both Rapunzel’s and Cersei’s hair are cut as a direct result of sex and sexual desire.

Meanwhile, Rapunzel’s prince “wanders in thewilderness, in eternal darkness, a symbolic death and journey to the Underworld.” I’m still waitin’ for that Jaime-Stoneheart confrontation, @ GRRM, so unfortunately I don’t yet have any good TWOW underworld quotes as Jaime wanders about the Riverlands, but I think y’all get the idea.

So what does this all mean for Cersei?

Cersei spent her youth locked away in the Tower of the Hand, as one of GRRM’s Maidens in the Tower3, much as Rapunzel was locked away. In versions of the Maiden in the Tower story where “the father locks the maiden away from the world, [he is] upholding models of patriarchal control and domination.” The Tower of the Hand becomes a (phallic) symbol of male power for Cersei, of Tywin’s control over her, of her inability to control her own fate and to be something more than “a broodmare”. 

And I think Cersei was still (metaphorically) locked away in that tower in AGOT-ASOS. Even the incest … even with Cersei using the incest as a way to take charge of her own sexuality and “horn” / cuckold Robert … even when the King’s Tywin’s son is attempting to help Cersei escape her patriarchal imprisonment … To borrow something @secretlyatargaryen​ said, “Jaime and Cersei’s incest is the logical extension of Tywin’s obsession with the Lannister bloodline, although not what Tywin had in mind.” So even when we first see Cersei having sex with Jaime in AGOT, it’s just another tower, with Cersei pinned against yet another wall, saying “stop it” while no one listens to her. (I say this as an avid Jaime/Cersei shipper, ok, I revel in the twincest because it is toxic and self-destructive.) Cersei is still very much under Tywin’s control, so when we finally see Cersei and Tywin in the same room in the text, we get this:

When she hesitated, then sat, Tyrion knew she was lost […] “You will marry and you will breed. Every child you birth makes Stannis more a liar.” Their father’s eyes seemed to pin her to her chair.

and this:

“He is sending me back to Casterly Rock as well. He wants me far away, so he’ll have a free hand with Tommen.”

The interesting thing about what GRRM is doing with Cersei // Rapunzel is that Cersei is an intentional subversion of the medieval tales of Maidens in the Tower as merely “passive beauties” waiting to be rescued. Cersei is anything but passive. When Tywin dies, Cersei takes control. And one of the first things she does is burn the Tower of the Hand. She burns her former prison to the ground. 

I will teach them what it means to put a lion in a cage

GRRM tells us that “fire is power” and it is specifically a genderless power. Cersei’s wildfire is a destructive power, the power of unmaking, but does Cersei have the power to create as well? Can Cersei reshape Westeros into a world where men obey when she gives a command, a world where she is respected as much as her father?4

Kate Forsyth asks,

Why has this tale of a girl locked away in a tower continued to be told and retold over so many hundreds of years? […] ‘Rapunzel’ is a story about escape from imprisonment. It tells the transformative journey from stasis and shadows to liberation and light. This makes it a story that reverberates very strongly with any individual – male or female, child or adult – who has found themselves trapped by their circumstances, whether this is caused by the will of another, or their own inability to change and grow.

Cersei is looking for her own liberation, but is burning the tower enough for Cersei to escape? Or is she still the Rapunzel figure, “in stasis,” locked into Tywin’s toxic ideology, in a prison of her own making? Will she make her way into the light? 

“And hair grows back,” Cersei tells us defiantly, as they cut off her hair, just as Rapunzel’s hair was cut in the original fairy tale. There is more of Cersei’s story left to tell. 

The narrative engine of these [Maiden in the Tower] stories was sensuality and fecundity, their most striking images ones of […] flowing tresses of hair […] and lovers entwined together in nakedness. […] It was only in the late Middle Ages that the ‘Maiden in the Tower’ tale lost even this last remnant of matriarchal mythology. The maiden […] did not escape her tower. Instead she was martyred. Murdered by her own father’s hand. The images are all patriarchal: lightning, fire, swords. The aftermath is death, desolation and ashes. 

Compare the importance of tears in both stories:

The King’s son recognised Rapunzel’s voice, and the two were reunited. Rapunzel wept, and her tears fell upon his eyes and healed his blindness. Then he took her to his kingdom … and there they lived long and happily. [Rapunzel gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl.]

vs

The old woman was not done with her, however. “Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds,” she said. “And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.”

Obviously I don’t think there’s any “happily ever after” for Cersei while GRRM Is telling the tale. GRRM has written ASOIAF to make it even more patriarchal and more misogynistic than the real Middle Ages, so I won’t be surprised when Cersei’s story ends with “death, desolation, and ashes” (”suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth“). I don’t think things look good for Cersei in the books. She and Jaime are currently separated, with Jaime fantasizing violence against his sister. 

In the Rapunzel story, tears are seen as a source of enlightenment, which I think will be representative of Cersei’s disillusionment regarding the valonqar prophecy5, when she finally realizes that it was not the brother she hated, but the brother she loved, who betrays her. It may be a moment of disillusionment for Jaime as well (~healing his blindness~) but idk how GRRM is gonna go about the valonqaring, so I’ll reserve comment. (“Then he took her to his kingdom” – we’re going valonqaring at Casterly Rock in the books, not King’s Landing; bet on it.) 

So yeah, um. I think Cersei burning the Tower of the Hand is part of GRRM’s exploration of Cersei’s complex relationship with power in a highly misogynistic world, as well as her relationship with fairy tales. I’m maybe in too deep here.

See also. 

1 Writing a story about stories is a running theme throughout GRRM’s career. Why haven’t you all read Dreamsongs? 

2 I read a fascinating essay last year on Dany’s relationship to fairy tales in the book, Women of Ice and Fire, called “Woman with Dragons: Daenerys, Pride, and Postfeminist Possibilities” for anyone who is interested. 

3 Other examples of GRRM’s Maidens in the Tower are Lyanna, Ashara, Catelyn, Sansa, etc. 

4 In my opinion, the answer is no, Cersei cannot reshape the world. While the wildfire grants her the destructive aspects of fire, I think Cersei lacks the dual nature of power conferred by Dany’s dragons, the power both to destroy and to create (a better world where humanity isn’t threatened by the Others). 

5 Interestingly, in ancient tellings of the Maiden in the Tower story, Forsyth describes a part of the story dedicated to the futility of trying to circumvent prophecy. Obviously Cersei has tried to do this, and is failing. 

[yes-i-also-miss-our-talks]

You Will Be Found: S/O Tag

The kiddos of YWBF decided to sit down together and answer a few questions about their relationships for a video. Enjoy!

(I’m going to do this in transcript form if you don’t mind. There’s just so many of them talking.)

Key:

A: Alana

B: Ben

C: Connor

E: Evan

J: Jared

K: Kaeto

L: Libby

Z: Zoe

J: This is going to be a clusterf**ck. I’m calling it now.

A: Have a little faith!

K: So how are we going to do this? In what order are we gonna go?

J: Twitter asked that we do it in chronological order, by who’s been together the longest. (to L and K) We know they love you more, but this is a group effort.

C: (accusatory) Spotlight hogs.

K: Not on purpose!

C: (doubtfully) Uh-huh.

Z: Boys, play nice. So, to make sure we and all the nice people at home are all on the same page, that’s Jared and Ben, then Lana and I, then Connor and Evan, and Kaeto and Libby last.

B: We win!

K: You hate competitions.

B: We’re still winning.

J: (to camera) Do you see why I love him?

*cut*

Q: How long have you been together?

J: Two years? Two and a half?

B: Something like that, yeah. It was early 2015. Sometime in March.

A: June 3rd, 2015. 10:22 a.m. Zoe had been eighteen less than twenty-four hours.

Z: Aww, you remembered the time. And you waited until I wasn’t jailbait! Okay, Con?

C: Since what, mid-August last year?

E: Yeah, it was right before you went to rehab for the last time.

C: No mind-altering substances and no boyfriend. Double torture.

E: But worth it?

C: (fondly) Like you wouldn’t f**king believe.

Z: *gags* Are you guys done being gross?

C: For the sake of not making this video three hours long, yes.

J: Kaeto and Libby’s turn!

L: What was the question?

J: ‘How long have you been together?’

L: Not long. Since what, early September? More towards the middle? There wasn’t an exact day.

K: I wrote it down, but I can’t remember exactly right now.

Q: What was your first impression of the other?

B: “Why is he smiling like that?”

J: “He’s looking at me like I’m a weirdo but it’s f**king adorable.”

A: “Green hair? That’s someone braver than me.”

Z: “This girl is so nice. How is she friends with my brother? How am I friends with my brother?”

C: Well, fuck you, too.

E: That better not be your official answer.

C: That better not be yours.

(E and C stick their tongues out at one another)

C: But for real, the first thing I remember was like, first grade, maybe? You were always really quiet at school, but then one day your mom came to pick you up after school, and she had this Golden Retriever with her. You lit up a like a g**damn Christmas tree and barreled right into that dog. After that, I always subconsciously kept a list of things that made you happy.

E: Is it still there in your head?

C: Yep.

E: You think it’s accurate?

C: I’d bet my life on it.

E: Well, are you item number one?

C: (blushing slightly) Don’t you have your own f**king question to answer?

E: [referring to ‘first impression’ question] You were always a dark cloud over a room.

C: (sarcastically) Thanks, babe.

E: But you know how I love gloomy days!

L: You two are actually sickening. I’m going to puke.

E: It’s your turn to answer.

L: Nooo, it’s gonna make me seem bitchy.

K: My first impression of you was that you were kind of a bitch.

L: Okay, I feel less bad about it now.

K: Now I don’t wanna hear it.

J: Just spit it out!

L: My first impression of Kaeto - and I warned you that it’s not the best - was “who the fuck is still wearing a giant maroon jacket at the end of May?”

[the kids wince]

Z: Yeah, I can see how you wouldn’t want to share that one.

L: And screw you all for making me say it.

*cut*

Q: When was your first kiss?

J: Like, three minutes after we established that I was not in any way joking about liking him and was dead serious when I said I wanted to date him.

B: (grinning) I have terrible self-esteem and think everyone hates me!

[Michi, laying with her head in his lap, reaches up and licks his cheek]

B: Thanks, Michi.

Z: We kissed for the first time maybe two weeks before we started dating (with air quotes) “officially” or whatever. And then it was another three weeks before we actually told anyone.

A: And by told anyone, you mean being forced to tell the truth after your roommate walked in on us making out.

Z: Yeah, she never talked to me again after I got assigned a new dorm.

A: Connor? Evan?

[they shift uncomfortably]

C: It’s really sappy and kind of personal.

E: Yeah.

J: Alright, you’re allowed to keep it vague.

E: It was like when we got together, in that it was right before Connor went into rehab, but this was literally right before.

C: (nodding) Yeah, I think that’s a good way to put it. Let’s just leave it at that; it’s a story for another video.

E: Yeah. Kaeto?

K: I know what the next question is gonna be, and it ties in with this one, so we’re gonna skip and get back to it in a bit.

L: Yay! Less talking!

*cut*

Q: Who said “I love you” first.

Z: Ooh! I vote we let Kaeto and Libby go first just to settle the anticipation.

E: Zoe, we set up an order. We have to stick to it.

A: Or else society crumbles.

E: Exactly.

Z: (grumpily) I can’t believe I chose the two of you as my favorite humans.

J: Can we go now?

C: Please do.

B: It was Jared. I made him do it.

J: That’s...not far from the truth, actually. I mean, you guys all know this, but the people watching might not, so I should explain that a lot of communicating with Ben requires total bluntness and honesty. It makes you really aware of everything you say and do, as well as often forcing you to really analyze or actions. And for me, who’s socially inept and a self-centered dick, it’s been really helpful to be able to acquire this awareness.

L: Aww, Jay, I don’t think you’re a socially inept, self-centered dick.

J: (flatly) Lib, I’m telling a f**king story. And that’s literally what Asperger’s is.

[caption reading “it is and it isn’t” appears at the bottom of the screen momentarily]

J: (more light-hearted) Anyway, when I realized I was in love -

L: Awww

J: - shut the f**k up - with Ben, I kind of freaked out a little bit. It was all internal, so I did start acting weird, Ben picked up on it, worried he’d done something wrong, and then started freaking out himself.

B: (grinning) I’m crazy like that.

J: Nah. But I had to simultaneously calm him down and deal with the fact that I was scared out of my mind because I’d never told someone who wasn’t family that I loved them before. It was a big, emotional mess and I’m glad it’s over and that we’re still here.

[B nods in agreement and leans his head on J’s shoulder]

A: In the case of Zoe and I, I’m pretty sure it was actually me who said it first.

Z: Yeah, it was one of those cases where it slips out on accident over something kind of mundane. Do you remember what it was?

A: You fed my cats so I could sleep in and then brought me Ovaltine.

C: You never tell me you love me after I feed your cats.

A: That’s because you complain the whole time! Jared steals all my Ovaltine, but at least he’s nice to my cats.

C: We are not having the cat argument again right now!

E: (laughing) Hey, Connor, I just realized that not only did you say “I love you” first, but you did it right after our first kiss.

J: You two moved way too f**king fast.

Z: Give the boys a break, they were holding onto three consecutive years of romantic and sexual tension.

E: You do realize that you’re implying that even while you and I were -

Z: I knew it as soon as I said it, but I’m not gonna take it back.

E: Okay, then. Kaeto, now are you going?

K: (nods) Yeah. So, it was -

L: (interrupting) Kaeto said it first, then I proceeded to grab his face. Not even ten seconds in between and way less sappy than these two losers (points at C and E).

J: (shudders) Why do you have to say everything so bluntly?

L: Why do you have to take such issue in the way I do things?

*cut*

Q: What’s your favorite trait about the other?

B: Jared puts a unique but positive perspective on everything. Except for when he doesn’t, but pure optimism is bad for the soul.

J: Definitely his butt.

[a stuffed rabbit flies from behind the camera and hits J on the head]

J: Sorry, Lily. I was kidding. But really, I’m going to go with either his smile or the way he indirectly forces me to see the world differently and think a bit more before I speak.

A: Zoe takes everything in stride, but not in a way that embraces chaos, per se. She can be met with a problem or situation that seems chaotic or plain overwhelming, but has no issue taking a step back and finding order in it. I don’t do super well with disorganization and chaos, and she’s helped me have more faith in myself when faced with it.

Z: Lots of people have pointed out that I’m basically dating Hermione, and that’s literally the greatest thing anyone could ever say to me. I was obsessed with Hermione as a kid, although I think everyone expected me to want to be like her, not date her. Whoops.

C: For me, Evan is kind of a calming presence, so I’m at ease with him around and having a stabilizing force has really been helpful as I’ve been going through recovery. He’s also very aware of others, which can be his fatal flaw when it makes him ignore himself, but I’ve found it really helpful. Oh, and he makes me go outside. I like going outside, but I need someone to force me to do it a lot of the time. It works out.

E: Connor makes me put myself first in situations where my concern is generally elsewhere. And he draws on sticky notes and leaves them all over the house, which never fails to make me smile. A walking partner is always nice, too.

C: I forgot to mention that you’re a space heater. Sleeping next to you in the winter is the best.

E: And the rest of the year?

C: Well, then it’s just you that’s the best.

Z: (pretends to gag)

L: I would like to set the record straight and inform everyone that my boyfriend has the softest freaking lips I have ever encountered in addition to the best dog on the planet. What else do you need?

K: (shrugs) I’ll take it. I don’t think I necessarily have a part of Libby that I like more than the rest, though. It’s a mix of features and traits that came together just so to make her who she is, and that’s someone I love who love me in return and makes me happy simply by being.

[L hugs K and peppers his face with kisses]

J: (stage whisper) That’s how you know they’ve been together the shortest period of time.

[hum-my-name2]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

Tagged by  @poorapothecaries ! Thanks! 

List of works published this year (from oldest to latest):

There is so much here than I thought there would be!

It’s Just So Typically Us: “You can’t slow dance to Britney Spears!”

Bonus Features and Bonus Tracks: Bonus pieces of Until We Die or Forever Ends (Whichever One Comes First)

Spooky Scary Peterick Moments: An attempt to write an October based one-shot every day of the month (it didn’t work out)

Four Times FOB Quoted Wednesday Addams (And One Time They Might Not Have): Written for the October FOBCC

The Boy With The Yellow Guitar: An America’s Suiteheart AU written for Halloween

The Best Gift I Will Ever Ask For: Christmas Fic consisting of Patrick’s attempt to find Pete’s perfect present

Honorable Mention: I’m [not] Supposed To Love You, an ongoing fic that began a few years back. I’m including it in the list since it’s been updated throughout this year, too.

Work you are most proud of (and why):

Oh goodness... Um, The Boy With The Yellow Guitar is really different from what I usually write but, looking back on it, I love some of the poetic twists that I think I see in there, haha. I mean, I read it to some friends and family members because I loved how some parts sounded so I guess I was proud of it, haha. 

Work you are least proud of (and why):

Look, I know some people might disagree with me but I’m [not] Supposed To Love You will always be a sore spot for me. I started it without a plan or outline and before I even established my writing style for myself. I don’t know. Some singular scenes feel really good but, as a whole, I just see it as really weak and disjointed.

A favorite excerpt from your writing:

Of course, I had to choose something from The Boy With The Yellow Guitar! Here’s the introduction (I guess?) between Pete and Patrick’s characters.

The Boy with the Golden Smile.

Golden. Stunning. Brilliant. He was everything The Boy with the Yellow Guitar thought he would never find in this life— or any life at all.

He didn’t appear golden at first, not with that temper or oversized hat. He hung around the library, fingers flying through pages of myths and legends at any given hour. He’d claimed it was for a class project, that he went to the nearby college. The Boy with the Yellow Guitar had claimed that it was fate, smiling like a Cheshire cat. This boy, this Boy with the Golden Smile, held himself with the subtle fury of the universe; he stood out like a lover’s moan at midnight. He was like the guitar in every way. He was light hair and pale skin, soft eyes and softer edges.

He was perfect and the Boy with the Yellow Guitar needed him in a way he never needed anyone else before. He needed him like a key needed a lock; he needed him like a pick needed a guitar.

He needed him because, once he had him, he knew he’d be able to control him in every way. He’d be his new guitar, one he could touch and play any time he wanted. One that people would stare at for twice as long; one he could claim in ways one never could with an instrument.

He needed him and he never doubted he would get him. The Boy with the Golden Smile was made to be found by The Boy with the Yellow Guitar, he was sure.

They never took the step from friends to lovers, never had time to waste with games of crushes or flirtations. The Boy with the Yellow Guitar made sure of that. He ran his hands over The Boy with the Golden Smile, marking him with fingerprint smudges and dented strings. He held him like a lullaby; he played him like a wrinkled page of lyrics.

Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

@the-chaotic-panda always leaves such lovely comments that have me smiling for ages, haha. The most recent one, on my Christmas fic, is so much kinder than I deserved! (I still haven’t probably responded to it yet, oops, but I do love and appreciate it so much!)

Of course, any comment I receive is instantly a favorite because comments are so wonderful, haha. So thank you to anyone who’s left one!

A time when writing was really, really hard:

That freaking double update I did a few nights ago for I’m [not] Supposed To Love You. Oh my actual God. I was up all night finishing and trying to perfect both chapters because I was too stubborn to wait any longer. And I know 5am isn’t too late for most people but when I’m already running on a handful of hours and falling asleep each second, trying to edit or post a document is nothing but pain.

A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Not really a scene or character, but the fluffy attempts in Spooky Scary Peterick Moments are all scenes I wouldn’t have seen myself writing. Namely, because fluff has never been my forte, though I like to think I’m getting better at it!

How did you grow as a writer this year?:

Hmm, well, I certainly wrote so much more than last year! I’m proud of how many works fill my page now. I’ve also become much more open to feedback and criticism, something my creative writing class helped a bit with.

How do you hope to grow next year?:

I just want to continue writing as much as I have-- if not more. And I’m going to take writing so much more seriously and try to learn more about how to perfect the art, in a sense. So, that means reading more-- both fictional and non-fictional. Time to get serious about this, haha

Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Shout out to my girl, Era!! She doesn’t have a tumblr but she’s a total muse. Honesty, I wouldn’t be able to write a thing without her.

Also, @the-chaotic-panda‘s comments and thoughts on my updates always keep me going. Nothing makes feel better about a chapter I’m uncertain about :)

And another shout out to @sn1tchesandtalkers. Your Halloween and Christmas Peterick events are entirely a huge reason why I’ve been inspired/pushed to write so much this year!

Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

The most real life thing is the fact that I used both of my younger sisters’ homecoming experiences as inspiration for a piece in Spooky Scary Peterick Moments. It was great.

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write for yourself! I have a bad habit of wanting to write what I think people want or expect but that just stifles so many options. Also, having someone else to talk about ideas with or to read through your works is so magnificently helpful. I had a few critiquing workshops in my creative writing class and I fell in love with the process.

Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Yes!! After I’m [not] Supposed To Love You is finished, I have two very different works I’ve been outlining for a while. I won’t spill too much of the plots but I finally have their (tentative) titles and I’ll share those: Trickster’s Wave and Victims of Superstition. 

And, if I’m lucky enough to finish those, I have a whole document of works I want to start! I’m praying for 2018 to be a successful year for writing :)

Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

Umm, I’m sure some of you have already been tagged but how about @das-verlorene-kind, @the-chaotic-panda, and @juuna-won :)

Thanks against for tagging me and kudos to anyone who read this all the way through :)

[lostlegendaerie]

Six Fics of 2016

someone. someone tagged me in this. multiple someones tagged me in this while my PC was broken as shit so fuck. i dont know but i Wanted This, so. originally by @secretlystephaniebrown​ !

So I thought I’d pick 6 fics of mine written during this year, grab a favorite quote from each of them, give a short explanation of why it’s one of my favorites, and then tag 6 people to do the same! Let’s get some self love rolling as we head towards the end of this year!

and yeah i did write other fandoms this year but its like mostly RvB and Entirely in space, so.

6. Save and Restore - York & Delta, canon compliant

“That’s a-- dirty word, D.” A light, airy chuckle follows; one he remembers following an exchange with Carolina years ago. It sounds so much younger than the rest of York’s words, and he realizes he may not have anything more recent. “Better-- clean it off.”

“I… beg your pardon?”

“Nah, it’s free.”

i mean im Mostly so fond of this one because it was how I met @agentyorkdakota​ my moon and stars, but i also really enjoyed just getting to play with language a lot with this? like i’m pretty sure i’ve discussed this before but for a senior year project i worked a lot on a play called The Skriker where the title character kind of... used mixed metaphors and all sorts of jumbled language to communicate and it just. stuck with me. this language that was kind of cobbled together and makes sense but doesn't and yet does? so that was def a highlight of mine working on this fic. (also it placed me in the Angst War, a feather in my cap if there ever was one)

5. blow you like a popsicle stand - Tucker/Wash, canon compliant

He swallows his fear and creeping horror and lifts the lid. Buried under the crystalline ice of the remarkably still-functioning freezer is a collection of brightly colored little packages, all about the size of his hand.

“What.”

“I know!” Tucker replies, with exactly the kind of enthusiasm than ensures Wash he does not know, “I can’t believe it either. Ice cream! Here! On Chorus! Man, Caboose is gonna flip out when he sees this.”

Wash is tired, and adrenaline-tingly, and by this time he should just always expect to be betrayed and disappointed but here he is. He pulled a door out of a crumbling concrete wall for decades old ice cream sandwiches. Couldn’t save the lives of kids under his command, but sure. He can demolish a building in a fit of panic.

“What,” he repeats again, trying to shove all of his feelings into one ambiguous syllable. But Tucker just hip-checks him out of the way, flourishes his sword with a buzz of light, and carves a path through the ice to a red and blue package.

this one was done in a swap for @playerprophet​ (whom i also love and tag in this, there you go) and was just. okay. listen. l i s t e n. if i’m gonna write porn im gonna write specific porn. i’m gonna write mildly kinky porn with new shit y’all aint even knew you liked so someone can find me at a con and tell me to my face “oh yeah you wrote the iceplay fic” and i can be like “y e s” but also i can barely scrub the Feelings out of anything i write, so. SO. this was a pretty lighthearted excuse for Porn and it went over really, really well. so im Happy.

4. Golden Boy - York-centric, semi-canon compliant

Not that York can go back, now; not that there's anything left to go back to, with the entire project turning on itself in a disjointed, cumulative sort of cannibalism as every man, woman, or construct fights for themselves. And he’s not entirely blind to the fact that being wired to Delta on a neurological level makes the Director’s treatment of the AI feel infinitely more personal; makes it easier than it should have been to turn his guns on people he’d worked with for years. No. He’s not blind, not in that sense anyway.

But if he’s going forward, he wants to understand in full what he did in the name of science and progress.

this fic once shared a name with @littlefists​ ‘s epic because it was literally the first thing I wrote in the fandom and I Wasn’t Into Tuckington So I Didn’t Know, and i swear to GOD this is the last time i bring this up but i worked so fucking hard on it, it has Combat and Betrayal and Introspection and World Building and while i’ve gotta better grip on canon now I still really, really enjoyed this fic as an explanation for how York, of all people, could have gone so low in OOM

3. Overflow - Tucker/Wash, canon compliant

His thoughts about Tucker have often felt like a glass of water that’s just a little too full. He moves carefully so they don’t slosh around and make a mess of the place, barely keeping it all inside . And he’d thought that, once the newness of the whole ‘ sure we’ll risk lying to the faces of UNSC police to keep you out of prison even though you’ve done next to nothing nice for us your entire life ’ gratitude thing wore off (it didn’t, not entirely, it still pops up sometimes in the worst of moments and chokes him like the noose he should have gotten) the level would go down.

[...]

Tucker does something to him. Tucker finds ways to make him forget, at least for a little while, all the ways he’s fucked up. Even if it’s just finding more tolerable faults, like how the stick Washington has got shoved up his ass does wonders for keeping his back straight. Tucker talks loud enough to drown out the ghosts of everyone he underranked but outlived, listens enough to make his hard-won experience and advice mean something, and he is terrified for the day that everything overflows.

this was birthday fic for @strangestquiet that i actually took a day off from work to ensure i completed it in time but just. anyway. i’m pretty proud of it because it’s Big and it’s Coherent Mission Fic that managed somehow to tie into a little bit of preexisting lore. i’m also unfortunately very fond of all the little OC children bc i’ve constantly had tons of trouble with original characters and even tho no one else seemed to notice them i had fun and i love them all. but just in general i feel like i had a good balance of humor and feelings and also imagery? but as far as the latter goes it falls short of...

2. gethsemane - implied Shepard/Vakarian, Archangel-centric, game-compliant

On his last trip out of the Citadel, tying off loose ends, he bought a pack of playing cards from a human vendor. He had memories - they’d been fond once, but were souring like milk left in the sun - of losing miserably to Shepard and Williams at some gambling game. Leaving gifts on the graves of the departed wasn’t exactly the norm for turian culture, but neither was it strictly a human one either.

The flowers around the small crystal pillar were already wilting with neglect when he arrived. There might have been other tributes left there, but security had loosened until it fell away, slack like discarded clothes. Garrus left the cards there, under the shimmering list of names of casualties from the attack on the Citadel, and took the next transport ship as far away from Widow as possible.

okay so like. whenever possible i love to put good imagery in fic and like. understate emotions when i can and just in general do the literary version of the color saturated wide shot, you feel me? like the pullback with the characters in silhouette but you can still understand everything they’re feeling? anyway i feel like this fic really nailed a lot of my own personal goals for just Vivid fics. can’t wait to write more mass effect fic but it’s gonna be Hard to meet the standards i set for myself with this one.

1. Throw Away the Key - York/Carolina, Alternate Universe

Carolina fights to find the best angle for her umbrella as gusts of wind swat rain at them in little bursts, but by the time her car gives a satisfying click they’re both uncomfortably wet and she’s run out of things to say. Thankfully, he hasn’t.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” York reflects as he withdraws the metal blade, inch by careful inch. “This is getting a little absurd. Like, bad soulmate romcom Hallmark movie levels of coincidence.”

“Not my fault if you keep breaking the law.” She’s a little surprised by the movie analogy, but decides against teasing him for his choice in films.

“I am bending it, at best.”

listen i’m fucking neck deep in all the complexities of longfic hell and this sure isn’t the artsy stylistic stuff that i can be proud of (or regret) later on down the road but i’m trying. i’m trying to write something massive and happy and so far it’s working. i can’t say for sure if it’s actually Good because i get to see all my messy drafts and stops and starts that the rest of you are spared, but I wanted so badly to write A Good Longfic for the Y/C fandom and with that, at least, I feel like I’m doing well. if nothing else, literally nothing else at all, i am proud of myself for trying this and i hope that it can continue to give people joy long after it’s done and i’m gone.

i’m gonna go ahead and tag @therewithasmile @sinelanguage @lady-of-rohan @flecksofpoppy @owaire and of course @playerprophet but if you’re reading this and wanna do it go right ahead!