#No one is allowed to talk about how fucked up Sally's shading looks

[ambiguous-curio]

Start hyperfixating now that's an order. Zoom in to experience textures

Characters and House sculpture by @partycoffin

And for a treat you get an unblocked background

#No one is allowed to talk about how fucked up Sally's shading looks #My computer merged 46 layers while I wasn't looking and my head hurts too much for me to start from scratch #Welcome Home #Arg #sally starlet #julie joyful #What? You're Autistic? Wow welcome to Autism! #Yay!!! #*Clapping*

[chaoticgeminate]

Kinktober 2022 - Chapter Thirty One

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I’m feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: Squirting, toys (butt plug), fooling around between trick or treaters (not advised EVER under any real circumstances this is FICTION for a reason), unprotected PiV

Free Choice - Toys (1.5k)

Underestimating Javi’s ability to source things was something you still found yourself dressed as Sally while Javi adjusted his bat bowtie, you’d chosen to forgo the full make-up and instead used eye pencil to draw the stitch lines on your skin and put on the shockingly bright red wig that looked like it was made from thread rather than synthetic hair. Red lipstick completed your look and you turned to see study your fiancé again; he’d gone full white make-up with dark black rings around his eyes with the extended lines at his lips, and since so much of his blazer was open, he’d made sure to bring the white all the way down.

Javi left his hair alone, the shape of his facial hair standing out under the white make-up, but otherwise he’d done a good job with the coverage of it. Your apartment had been decked out in a last-minute explosion of decorations, red shiny garland with fake cobwebs strung between candy canes lined your entryway where the door was left open to allow people inside.

Using command hooks to attach them to the wall you had Christmas lights fixed in place but in the shape of spider webs, it had taken ages to get them to not only work but stay where you wanted them to, and everything of value was already stashed away while the television had a horror ambiance soundtrack playing and Javi finished putting up the last of the fake cobwebs.

With the lights off and the only lighting coming from the Christmas lights your apartment looked like a void zone of Halloween and Christmas, the mini projectors with the ghosts from Nightmare Before Christmas on the walls added to the last-minute décor and you loved all of it.

All night you got compliments from parents, awed remarks from kids, and between groups you and Javi teased each other or talked depending on what door In the building the next group of kids were at.

“Solecita it is hardly 4 are you sure the kids will be showing up?” “Yes, Javi, they’ve been starting the Trick or Treating earlier and earlier.”

“Did you see the Transformer costume? He was such a cool little Bumblebee!” “Perhaps next year we should aspire to go grandiose, mi amor, I could have fun planning a large event at the olive grove.”

“Fuck- Javi they’re next door.” “You were so close, Solecita, lo siento.” “Gloves on, Skeleton King.”

“Is someone upset?” “You are a wicked tease, when you said you wanted to see how good the lipstick looked on me I thought you meant-“ “Well you’re wearing white make up Javi, only choice to indulge would be to shade check in other places and there are children coming in and out.”

“I want one.” “Solecita-“ “She was so cute, Javi!” “I am allergic, but we could get a dog?” “Okay, that’s fair.”

When the last of the candy was gone -your custom modified Christmas chocolate mixed with Halloween treats proving to be a big hit- you and Javi put the sign up on the door saying you were out before deciding clean up would happen tomorrow. Heading right for your too small bathroom together, though Javi went to the sink first to get as much of the white makeup off as he could before he got under the water stream.

You were nearly done and getting out, since the shower was barely able to fit him comfortably on his own, and Javi caught your hand to pull you in for a searing kiss first.

Focusing more on drying than dressing, since there was little point, you felt a little tremor of excitement shoot through you at wondering how Javi would react to your surprise. It had been fun to slip away during set-up to get a plug in, how he hadn’t noticed when he’d slipped his hand up your dress between groups you would never know, but it meant more fun for you when he find it.

A rather fun idea made you giggle and lay back on the  so you were propped on the pillows, moaning softly when you began to let one hand glide down your body. The soft touch made you shiver as you imagined him hearing you and rushing through the rest of his shower, wondering if he would surrender control it take it.

Your next breathy sound was louder, loud enough that he definitely heard you since the water cut off.

“Solecita, what do you think you are you doing?”

His tone was sharp and deep, you looked up at him through hooded eyes as he stood in the doorway. You met his stare with a look of defiance and whimpered as you slipped your fingers down through your folds, earning a small sound not unlike a growl from him as he watched you part your lips for him. Letting him see how wet you were, see the shine of your arousal as it leaked down your slit.

His nostrils flared when your hips rolled up, as you circled your clit, and Javi crossed the room in maybe three strides to snatch your hand away from your body and roll you over onto your stomach. You felt him discover the plug, the way he gasped out a soft “bebita” before he was picking your hips up and pressing your upper body into the mattress, and since the last time you were in this position he had been driving into you with the intent to breed you… you clenched around nothing with a whine.

“Javi-“

“Look at you. So wet already, but you seemed happy to take care of yourself. You even have something to fill you here.” He pressed against the base of the plug, making you try to rock back for more of the sensation.

“Wanted t’ surprise you-“

“Oh, I am surprised, bebita. But I don’t want to interrupt your fun, I just wanted a better view. Go ahead, make yourself cum.”

He grabbed your hand, the one he’d pulled away, and lifted it to cup your pussy, urging you to continue what you were doing; your desperate little whine and the way your hand slipped through your folds with a wet sound had your knees widening as you rocked down against the press of your fingers.

Javi watched you touch yourself, and you could feel how close he was to you by his breath on your skin, the soft kisses to the backs of your thighs and the breathy little curses he was breathing against your skin when you would dip your fingers into your body to make sure you showed him just how wet and ready you were for him.

It was only when you were so close to that peak, when your breathing was erratic and you could feel it right there, that he slid his cock home; the fullness you felt of him and the plug was so much and you felt the hot rush of your orgasm soak him and your legs and definitely the sheets below. Javi didn’t even last two full thrusts before he was filling you, just as overwhelmed as you were feeling, and the two of you were left panting hard as your body trembled from the sensations.

“Fuck, you were so tight and wet- I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. Bebita, can you handle more?”

“Always, mi prometido.”

He grinned when you looked over your shoulder at him and when he moved again, he did it in a way that let him close his left hand over yours, allowing you to see your rings beside each other and catching the low lighting of your bedside lamp, and Javi pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Be careful, mi prometida, I am a greedy man.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He chuckled in your ear and ground himself inside of you, making you whimper.

“You can believe that I will keep all of my promises, Solecita, starting with the most important one of all. I promise to love you and be by your side from now until the end of eternity.”

He was such a fucking romantic, even buried in you like this, and you loved him so much for it.

“I promise to support you and love you and do anything in my power to make sure you have a reason to smile by my side, from now until eternity.”

Javi whimpered, a broken sound, and the tender way he rocked into you as he draped himself more onto your body was so all encompassing and perfect and you made sure he knew it.

“So good to me, Javi.” “Feels so amazing, the way you love me is always what I need.”

“You’re a good man cariño, I love you with all that I am.”

Javi’s choked off whimper in your shoulder, the feeling of his body going rigid and his balls drawing up, made you sure that for the rest of your lives and the rest of your eternity you would make sure he knew just how much you loved him and how glad you were that he had found you.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Kinktober Only: @nicolethered @katareyoudrilling

#kinktober 2022 #javi g x reader #javi g x f!reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #cw smut #cw toys #cw butt plug #cw piv #cw semi public #chaoticwrites

[willgrahymn]

Crushing Fear

wow can you believe I’m posting one of my fics on tumblr? me neither.

Tags: prinxiety, love confessions, some point close after FWSA, flower language, some swearing, and light angst but mostly fluff (oh and I throw shade at Janus).

Summary: Virgil didn't even remember how long he had spent repressing his dumb crush, but with Thomas falling in love, it felt harder to ignore the feelings welling up in his chest. All he knew was that he couldn't admit it out loud. Luckily for him, Roman was a romantic who couldn't stand to let a chance at love go uninvited, even if he didn't always feel deserving of it. 

Word count: 3334

I’ll reblog with ao3 link since I know tumblr is dumb about it :)

There were a lot of things Virgil loved about Roman. He loved the way Roman would push back his hair whenever he caught a glimpse of himself or felt nervous and he loved the way it always fell in his face again. He loved the way his eyes lit up when Virgil asked about a show or a musical he knew the prince liked. To be honest, it was hard to think of something he didn't love. Even things he once thought were annoying had become endearing to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a reputation to at least try to maintain, he’d already gone so damn soft around the others since the light sides and Thomas came to get him back and Roman made that sweet little speech in the darkness of his room.

“You make us better.” It was like a song he played on repeat. At the time, Roman was the last person he expected to convince him that this could be his home – his family – but somehow he did. He may have been a jerk early on, but maybe, Virgil thought, he really was a knight in shining armor. Roman was more like him than he once thought; using fake confidence to cover up insecurities was nothing new.

And now, years later, here he was lying in bed like a yearning gay fool with music that wasn’t loud enough to block out his thoughts. He figured his little crush would be something that he could just hide away until it wasn’t even there. That plan was failing horribly though, especially when Roman could steal his breath by just looking at him. He didn't know how to handle feelings that felt bigger than himself.

Would it be smart to try something now? Probably not. What would he even do? Roman always talked of big, grand gestures that could literally and figuratively sweep one off their feet. Virgil didn’t consider himself good at plenty of things, and wooing someone like he was in a movie happened to be on the list. The farthest he'd gotten with confrontation was making Thomas talk to Nico, all because he couldn't stand to see Roman so heartbroken. He could feel the darkness below his eyes lighten to that embarrassingly glittery purple at the memory of how proud Roman was.

But Roman was Creativity and had his own little kingdom in the imagination. Virgil was sure that if he wanted a boyfriend he could just make the man of his dreams who would do anything and everything for him without the slightest hesitation. It seemed existence wasn’t fair like that.

He could just barely hear a knock sounding at the door, Virgil's eyes immediately darting over to where the sound had come. He debated whether or not he should respond. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like his friends, but his same old avoidant tendencies from before never went away.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. His voice making Virgil freeze and want to melt away at the same time. “Are you awake?”

Fuck, shit, some other words Patton would disapprove of. What time was it? 1:30? He couldn’t blame Roman for assuming he was still out, especially since it was the truth not too long ago. He almost felt sorry for his sleep schedule, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter how hard Logan tried to help he always found himself digging through the kitchen at 5 in the morning, and not because he was an early riser. He paused his music, hanging his headphones on his headboard. Listening to Sally’s Song for the 17th time could wait for later.

He heard Roman laugh, and it felt like roses.

“That’s alright. If anyone here knows anything about beauty sleep, it’s me. The glasses gays are insisting that I awaken the beast though, so you better at least have something on before I barge in.”

Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman was talking to himself or knew he was being heard. He just burrowed deeper under his covers. He didn't want Roman to find him awake and think he was ignoring him, even if it was kind of the truth.

The door creaked. It sounded like something from a shitty horror movie. The heavy footsteps didn’t make it any more calming either. Roman was never this quiet. He refused to open his eyes, even as his blanket was pulled away from his face. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he felt cool air shock his skin.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m the actor here. Your eyes were closed too tight, for one thing,”

Virgil sighed, opening his eyes and squinting at the light. “I thought you were here to wake me up, not give me acting lessons.”

“Good morning to you too, Mourning Glory. It’s not my fault if you want to hide away all day, I’m just giving tips on being more realistic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his lip to resist smiling. Wanting to stay calm as if he knew what he was doing.

“You’ve teased me about being a vampire before. Can’t I play the part?”

“Oh, trust me, you’re perfect for the role. Sadly for you, there are two very insistent Sides saying you have to be a real functioning part of the mind, so unless you want me to carry you out there and make a whole scene, you better come down on your own.”

Virgil sighed, rolling onto his back as his eyes adjusted to the light. The two stared at each other. Testing each other. Not getting out of bed never sounded more tempting.

He gave in, rambling. “Sure, okay, whatever.” He sighed, reaching out and taking hold of Roman’s hand, letting the prince pull him upright. Whether it was he or Roman who ended up bringing them so close was something he could stay up late thinking about later. Now wasn’t the time to focus on rough palms or scarred skin that he once bandaged up while cursing out the ever-so-reckless Roman for sneaking out on quests, leaving Virgil to hunt him down with nothing but adrenaline and a certain level of knowingness in his dread.

He tried to bite back a yawn. His eyes widening at the warm feeling of a hand pressed to his face, of a thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. It wasn’t unwelcome, to be honest, he could probably fall back asleep just like this. He’d be okay waking up every morning if they were like this. If the romantic side offered it. If Virgil would allow himself to accept and experience it.

“How long have you been up?”

“Anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. I don’t really know.”

Roman smiled, betraying the worried look in his eyes. It was probably just the effect of his room, that’s what Virgil hoped it was anyway. He tried not to show any disappointment when Roman’s hand fell to the bed.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Virgil continued, “just let me take care of my makeup first.”

Roman’s eyes trailed him as he got up and moved over towards his desk in the corner of the room, flicking on the light as he went by. Why is he fucking staring?

“While I’m here, I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a quest this evening? Or maybe we could throw a ball for the mind palace? I know it’s not your thing, but I thought it might be fun? Or y’know, something else more low-key.”

“Uh, yeah you know I’m not big on big things,” Virgil replied, looking over to the prince picking at a loose thread on the cuffs of his sleeves. “You know if you want to hang out you can just ask, you don't need some extravagant event going on to get me alone with you.”

Roman nodded, not seeming any calmer than before. Virgil's brows furrowed, worries flowed through him as if it were his blood. He didn't want to make Roman talk if he didn't want to, but god was it nerve-racking.

At the very least, it seemed like he wouldn't be putting on any more black eyeshadow to try and hide its changes.

Roman, on the other hand, decided not to question why the Side no longer seemed interested in putting his makeup on, and being grateful for the fact Virgil took advantage of the fact they could conjure themselves into different outfits rather than changing right then and there.

The two stayed there, an awkward silence taking over the room before a crash sounded from the living room.

“We should probably go.”

Virgil simply nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around as he followed Roman out of the room.

Luckily, the crash had only come from Patton knocking over a stack of DVDs, CDs, and a few other things. Another lost-glasses incident. It was a miracle nothing got broken.

The day itself would have felt completely normal if not for the fact Roman kept looking at him. Starting off as unsure as they did in his room, and slowly brightening like he had finally figured out a plothole in one of his stories. It was even more unsettling when he realized Roman was no longer there, vanished off to do god knows what.

So Virgil spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore the feeling of his fears eating him from the inside out like a moth to a sweater. He wouldn’t mind the holes if they didn’t leave him so uncomfortable. But then again, maybe that was fitting for his aesthetic. Torn-up shirts and jeans to pair with his torn-up emotions. At least he found solace in the darkness of his outfits.

It didn’t take long to get bored of the mundane mind palace.

Maybe I should take Roman up on that quest idea. He thought, his foot bounced, hanging over the side of the couch. Even if it wasn’t in his list of Shit Virgil Can Do Without Fucking Up, it was better than sitting around and waiting for nothing.

Virgil got up silently, giving a quick two-finger salute to Logan who had started reading some new detective novel before he sunk out. Appearing again before Roman’s door. Maybe he was just self-conscious, but it looked bigger than it was. Like behind it would be some hidden treasure that he finally reached.

It wasn’t entirely wrong. Roman was certainly someone to be treasured, even if he made mistakes. He just wished the other Sides would help him understand it.

He held his breath as he knocked, jolting back when it swung open almost instantly.

“You’re here!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“Uh, yeah. I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier… if it’s still up, anyway.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally!” The prince tugged at his collar, not making eye contact. Virgil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prince's giddiness. “I was just working on something if you’d care to see it?”

“You know I wanna see whatever you come up with, even if it’s some rewrite of Frozen.”

Roman bounced again, holding his hands out, palms up. He looked at Virgil with an emotion he couldn’t name, but it made him feel anxious in a good kind of way. Not anything like the dread he was used to. He placed his hands on Roman’s, and it wasn’t till they were sinking out and into the imagination that he realized it was the same kind of feeling from when Nico first texted Thomas about meeting up again. He held Roman’s hands a little tighter.

When he opened his eyes, they were surrounded by flowers.

“Woah…”

“Do you like it? I had to sneak into Logan’s room and borrow a few of his books.”

“I– yeah. It’s beautiful. And don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” He stepped away, wandering the circular little garden. He could only recognize so many. “Didn’t know you had a thing for landscaping.”

“I try my best. Honestly, I’m just happy neither of us has allergies.”

“Gosh, you’re such a dork.” Virgil laughed, petting the petals of a rose. Not paying attention to the way Roman watched him and shifted his weight every so often nor how warm his cheeks had become. “Do you know what any of them mean?”

“I do, but I think if I tell you, you’ll realize how predictable I am.”

“Go for it.”

“Well, roses are pretty well known. The red ones are anyway. Love, passion, romance, and courage. Things like that.” Roman said, walking closer. His boots clicking against the walkway’s pavement.

He stood close by yet just far enough for Virgil not to feel like he was being dissected under his gaze. It was an unreasonable thing to think after all the time they had spent becoming friends, he knew that. Yet part of him continued to scream that one day Roman would look at him and find out how horrible he thought himself to be and never want to be around him again. Maybe that was why he refused to confess just how much he liked Roman. It was a weight that crushed his chest every day yet made him feel dizzyingly light.

It was all too complicated.

“What about the purple ones?”

“It kind of varies by shade, but most of the time it’s about love at first sight or enchantment. A lot of the flowers here have to do with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, should’ve been able to figure that one out myself.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s no matter, I just want to make sure you understand what they mean.” He looked to Virgil, again with that unnamed emotion. “You do get what I’m trying to say, right?”

For a moment, he hoped he did.

“Uh, yeah? Princey, I get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, then asked. “What are they for?”

Roman looked at him with what he could only see as sympathy.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really do think you need it spelled out.”

Virgil scoffed, going to argue before he was cut off.

“First,” Roman began, reaching for Virgil’s hand, “You take him by the hand. That’s as far as you got before we both started screaming, anyway. So I suppose I’ll just have to wing it from here. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. I know I still make mistakes, and I really don’t want this to be one of them.”

“Roman–”

“I’m not finished. Virgil, out of all the other’s, you’re always the one who notices when I’m upset. You’re always the one who lets me bitch about Deceit without saying I was wrong for trusting him and then wrong for not. Really, you’re the only one I can bitch about the dark sides to, period. Logan is so reserved about it, and Patton is, well, he’s Patton. He tries to see the good in everyone.”

Roman paused, catching his breath. Virgil thought it best not to speak. He didn’t think he’d even be able to if he wanted.

“What I’m getting is that I trust you. I trust you because you’re my best friend and you listen to what I say even if it’s dumb. Because when I don’t feel like talking you're always down to just watch classic Disney movies and fill in coloring books. I know you don't realize it, but you do a hell of a lot more good than you believe, and I love you for that. You don’t have to say it back or even feel the same, I know you’re pretty reluctant about it. I just need you to know.”

Virgil stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of love. Roman had said ‘I love you’ before, but not like this. What the fuck do you even do when your crush confesses they like you, more so, that you aren’t obligated to like them back? Complicated, and now surreal.

“You really mean it? All of it??”

“Of course I do, my Columbine Cutie! I could never lie to someone about love, I hope you know that.” Roman replied. Waving his hand as he conjured a mix of red and purple columbines, tucking them gently behind Virgil’s ear. Both knowing it was the truth, that Roman wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing because he knew how it felt.

But he still trusted Virgil with his love all the same. Trusted that it wouldn’t be taken advantage of or used against him.

“How long have you known?”

“You know, I think I fell for you far before I knew it.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I uh… I think it was the same for me. Falling for you, that is.” God, it felt so weird to say it. Good, too. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d end up here. I care about you too. I love you, I mean.”

And Roman… Roman just started to beam, shining like the sun as Virgil tripped over his words. He bounced, hands waving as he did. Despite his lingering fear, Virgil couldn’t stop the excitement Roman radiated and the wonder of it all from seeping in under his skin, a feeling like vibrations that he could only try to shake out. And there were hands cupping his face and there were words he didn’t hear. He still knew what they asked. “Fucking yes.” was all he could bring himself to give as a response before Roman’s lips were on his.

Strawberry chapstick and the faint scent of cherry blossom perfume were all that went through his head, it was the only thing that really could. He held onto Roman’s uniform like if he let go it would all disappear. Another dream reminding him of what he thought he couldn’t have.

When Roman pulled away and Virgil opened his eyes, he was still there.

He was real. Everything that had happened was real. He couldn’t help but giggle at how fantastical it was.

Roman brushed his bangs away, just enough to fully show his eyes. “Your eyeshadow changed again,” he announced, bouncing on his heels once again. Virgil groaned, turning away. “It’s a good look for you. Especially with how much you blush, my Lavender Love.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable.”

Virgil knew from the grin on Roman’s face that it had only intensified.

“Whatever. I just– for what it’s worth– I appreciate it. All of this. I’d probably die never telling you shit about how I felt if you didn’t do it first.”

Roman softened, “Maybe, or maybe you’d end up pushing yourself like you did to Thomas. Either way, I’m happy with it if you are.”

Virgil nodded, the two going silent. Roman rocked back and forth still quietly bouncing, probably thinking of what to say next.

Slowly, Virgil opened his arms, smiling nervously to his crush– lover– whatever they were. He wasn’t all that open to touch, but Roman was so far off from everything else it didn’t matter. The prince smiled, pulling Virgil close to him and pressing a kiss to his magenta-colored hair.

“I’m happy to be your knight as long as you want me to be. Whatever it is that gets thrown our way, I’ll fight for you as you have for me. You deserve to shine every day like you are now.”

“Jesus, Princey. You already made your dramatic love declaration, but... thank you. I want you to be happy too.”

The two held each other, and for the moment, everything was okay. No dark sides, no fear, no challenging life debates. It was unescapable, of course, but it didn’t matter. They could survive and fight this hell of a world. They could make the other realize how lovable they were. Because they had each other.

#Sanders Sides #Prinxiety #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #prinxiety fic #your validation. hand it over SDLCVFH #ugh bye im gonna cry about this #Virgil's Volumes

[taxicabinmemphis]

Prince Charming - Chapter 4

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five - chapter six

Word count - 4,094 Pairing - Intrulogical, Prinxiety (I didn’t plan it, it just kinda happened and I rolled with it), pre Moceit Warnings - some characters are a lil insensitive in spots but I wouldn’t call them unsympathetic, creativitwins angst ig, swearing, food mention, self-deprecation from most sides bc they’re all wrecks, character injury, pining, and then there’s Remus-typical behavior (body horror mentions, sexual innuendo/mentions of sexual stuff, and other stuff heh), if there’s anything else that should be tagged or put in the warnings, tell me!

The six sides and their horses eventually arrived in Azeria. Remus had abandoned his plan that would allow Janus to escape and instead was pondering his best friend’s love life. Logan and Janus were tired of the adventure and wanted to leave, while Patton and Virgil were hoping to finish so they could treat their injuries. The brothers, however, were having fun and expressed no desire to leave.

“Well, we’re here!” Roman stated as they got to the stables. He dismounted.

“Finally,” Virgil muttered under his breath, before dismounting. “Where should I put Sally, Roman?”

“Over there is fine.” He pointed to where Virgil should leave his horse.

All the other sides dismounted and left their horses in the stables. They walked into the castle, entering the tower where they kept the crown jewels.

“Care to do the honors, Patton?” Roman offered, as Patton was currently wearing the backpack which held the jewels.

Patton walked over to the open glass case. He opened the backpack, removed the jewels, and placed them carefully onto a velvet blanket which covered the bottom of the case. Roman closed the case after Patton finished, and Virgil clapped a hand on the fatherly side’s shoulder.

“Good work, Dad,” Virgil praised. “Thanks for carrying the jewels and keeping them safe.”

“Out of our dirty hands, you mean?” Remus teased.

“As a matter of fact, yeah,” Virgil said, malice in his tone.

Janus put an arm around the emo’s shoulders. “Oh come now, Virgil. You’ve beaten us once, we know not to try again.”

“Hmmph,” Virgil huffed, shrugging off Janus’ arm. He glared at him, suspicion evident on his features.

Janus gave a small laugh and turned to Roman. “What happens now, Roman?”

“Does this scenario end?” Logan asked, masking the hopefulness that would otherwise have been clear in his tone.

“There’s so much more we can do in this adventure!” Roman argued.

“We’re already having dinner way later than normal….” Patton objected quietly. “We shouldn’t hold off on it for much longer.”

“Patton is right,” Logan agreed, “we wouldn’t want to eat too late and end up having trouble getting to sleep on time.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “How about we go to the courtyard and clear everything up. You know, finalize what happened and such.”

“That sounds acceptable,” Logan said.

The sides then left the tower, exited the castle, and went to the courtyard, the flowers surrounding it making Patton’s face light up. The pristine white walls of the castle surrounded them fully on one side and partially on two sides, and the grass was a healthy shade of green. The darker, evening sky inhibited a clear look at their surroundings, though the pretty blues and purples above them seemed to make up for it. The sun would set soon, and the six would likely get the pleasure of watching it, depending on how long it took to end the adventure.

“May I sit on that bench?” Virgil asked, pointing to an ivory-colored bench near where they were standing.

“I’d like to as well,” Patton added, raising his arm slightly.

Roman nodded. “Of course. We can talk near the bench.”

Virgil and Patton sat next to each other on the bench. The four others stood in front of it, each of them standing where they could see each other.

“Okay, so we have the crown jewels, Remus and Janus are in custody, Virgil has been released and is now a citizen of Azeria, and us knights are okay. Anything else we should clarify?” Roman said.

“I was given full permission to annoy Logan while in custody.”

Roman rubbed his temples in annoyance. “No. Logan is a valued knight and respected citizen, we wouldn’t subject him to your company.”

Remus laughed. “Logan visits me in prison, then we fuck-”

“Remus!” Patton exclaimed, hitting his arm.

“Sorry, Pat, but yeah.” Remus shrugs. “That’s what happens.”

The sides looked at Logan, whose face was ducked and buried in his hands.

“No, it isn’t,” Roman disagreed firmly. “Anything else?”

“Reptania and Azeria eventually work out their problems and become allies?” Patton suggested.

Roman stared at him for a few moments, blinking a few times before answering. “I mean, sure. We don’t want these crazies in our dungeons for too long. They would get annoying.”

Virgil snorted. “True that.”

Silence surrounded the group.

“Well then,” Janus said, breaking the silence. “It seems that we’re fini-”

“Look,” Patton interrupted with a gasp. “The sunset.”

The five other sides trained their gazes on what Patton was looking at, and their faces all contorted to an expression of surprise and wonder. The sky was painted in a beautiful display of reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples which contrasted with the canvas of dark blue incredibly well.

“Preeeeeeeetty,” Remus commented softly, holding out the ‘e’.

“As pretty as Logan?” Roman mused, glancing at his brother shortly, before returning his eyes to the colorful sky.

Remus’ face pinkened. “As pretty as Virgil?” he shot back with a scowl.

Roman let out a low sound of annoyance, but he left the conversation at that, preferring to appreciate the sunset than argue with his brother.

The sides spent a good five to ten minutes admiring the sunset, Patton making sure to snap pictures.

Janus cleared his throat. “We really should get going, as it seems that we’re finished.”

The others nodded, slowly tearing their eyes from the sky. Roman snapped his fingers and his fellow sides returned to their normal clothes.

“We could’ve just done that instead of changing earlier?!” Virgil asked incredulously.

Roman shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe, but I don’t think so. Who knows? But now you don’t have to struggle with removing chainmail.”

Virgil groaned and threw his head against the back of the bench.

“Next time, Roman, you should play the villain!” Remus said teasingly, leaving the castle grounds and walking towards the door out of the Imagination, his fellow sides joining him. “Bet you’ve never done that before!”

Roman shook his head. “I am a prince, not a villain. And why not let the resident villain play the part? Besides, I’m the only side here who knows how to be heroic, romantic, and charming.”

Remus’ footsteps slowed, but he eventually reached the door, his mood having soured immensely. He left the Imagination, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Patton, Janus, and Logan followed him out the door, Roman walking towards it himself. His hand grasped the doorknob, and he opened the wooden door slightly, only for his efforts to meet an opposing force that stopped the door from opening further.

The prince looked behind him to see Virgil standing there, left hand on the door.

“Hey there, Princey,” Virgil greeted quietly.

“Virgil,” Roman replied, showing clear confusion.

The purple-clad side took a deep breath. “I was hoping we could discuss something.”

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise, his grip on the doorknob slipping. He hardly registered Virgil closing the door after his hand fell to his side. Roman quickly concluded that Virgil’s previous statement was a softened and less anxiety-inducing version of the phrase “we need to talk”.

The realization made his stomach drop.

He followed Virgil away from the door and back over to the courtyard. They stopped at its entrance, and Virgil turned to face Roman.

“Roman, I have a few questions about some of today’s events,” Virgil said slowly. “As you know, I’m anxiety. I pay attention to behavioral red flags and abnormal actions and they will bother me until I get answers. So to spare future Virgil insomnia, could I please get clarification on a few things?”

Roman took a moment before answering. “And...none of the other sides’ behavior bothered you? Just mine?”

“Afraid so, Princey,” Virgil replied with a grimace. “At least when it came to the way they acted with me. Everything with Patton and Janus followed, except for one thing I managed to figure out. And no one else talked with me much.”

“Alright then,” Roman said, clearing his throat. “Fire away, I guess.”

Virgil shifted his feet. “I suppose I should start with the most recent source of alarm...back during the ride from Reptania? We were talking, and I rejected the idea of riding faster due to my soreness, and you said you wouldn’t cause me any harm or some cutesy shit like that, and then you ended up speeding up? I’m not mad by it or anything and I was eventually able to get used to the added pain it caused but I’m still confused by your actions.”

Roman felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Virgil’s sarcasm towards his care for the anxious side had angered him and slightly hurt his heart, so he sped up to be petty. He didn’t take Virgil’s injured state into account when committing the action, but now wished he did.

“Was that nice thing you said before you sped up sarcastic or something? I mean it was very dramatic like sarcasm often is, but you’re extremely dramatic so I thought it was you being you...maybe I read you wrong-”

“No, Virgil,” Roman finally spoke, raising a hand to halt his companion’s spiraling speech. His head was ducked down and he refused to meet Virgil’s eyes. “The comment was sincere.”

“Then why…”

“I…” Roman really didn’t want to answer this question, “I’m sorry. Your sarcasm after my comment wounded me when it really shouldn’t have because you’re such a sarcastic person by nature. I then forgot all about your injuries and sped up to be petty. I’m so sorry Virgil, and I am absolutely disgusted by myself for causing you pain. Especially after declaring I wouldn’t. You must be so angry...so rightfully angry.”

Virgil looked at the prince for a few silent seconds, blinking while he contemplated his dramatic and apologetic exposition. “I...I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was flattered and didn’t know what to say so I reverted to my normal sarcasm. I should’ve realized what I said might hurt you. And...I’m not angry, Princey. I was just confused and maybe a little annoyed.” Virgil paused for half a second, pondering whether or not to say his next words. “Don’t be angry at yourself, or...disgusted. Lashing out without care is normal, especially for someone as passionate as you. I’m fine now, the additional pain has faded, and I’m not annoyed anymore.”

Roman slowly lifted his head and let himself make eye contact with Virgil. “I...But you still suffered, Virgil, at my hand.” Roman clenched his fist and closed his eyes.

Virgil let out a tiny laugh. “Seriously, Roman. I’m fine. I didn’t suffer or anything that dramatic. Stop beating yourself up about it.”

Roman stopped, looking back to Virgil. He took a deep breath. “Okay. I acted insensitively out of anger. It was stupid. I apologize. I understand that you were...wait, flattered?” Roman stopped, remembering what Virgil said earlier.

Virgil’s eyes widened. He forgot he’d said that. “Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. “‘Your safety is my priority’? ‘I will instigate nothing that will cause you harm’? Those are some pretty sweet words you said there, Roman. I guess it, uh…—” he lowered the volume of his voice, “—made me feel a little special.”

Roman’s face had reddened at Virgil repeating Roman’s declaration from the horseback ride and emphasizing its kindness. But he smiled too. He made Virgil feel special.

“Not to say I’m not aware of how drama and bold declarations of action and emotion are basically your main way of interacting with others,” Virgil started to backtrack, “and maybe it shouldn’t have flattered me the way it did, considering you always act like that, but it did, and I’m sorry it made me say something that hurt you.”

“You needn’t apologize further, Virgil,” Roman said, a fond smile adorning his features. “I am aware of how passionate I am, especially towards you, and I should have considered that before I did what I did. If what I say bothers you, please tell me. I have no desire to hurt you.”

Virgil’s gaze was on the grass from Roman’s offhanded flirtatious comment. “What you say doesn’t hurt me or anything, and I know it’s just you being you. Compliments aren’t something I navigate well either and it’s not like anyone else speaks half as dramatically as you, so if you say something nice, it’s really nice and I don’t know how to respond. That’s all.”

Roman chuckled, the smile staying on his face as he glanced over and internally marveled at Virgil’s lovely facial features. “Hmm, flustered Virgil. Something that seems so alluringly impossible but is existing before my eyes. Truly, a wonderful sight.” Roman’s smile only widened at Virgil blushing, and he got back on topic. “What else did you wish for us to discuss, Virgil? I remember you mentioning that there was more than one worry on your mind.”

“I, uh, yeah,” Virgil said weakly, still bashful from Roman’s words. “Roman...Patton’s hit to my stomach didn’t knock me out. It couldn’t have, to be honest. And I remember everything that happened. Everything that was said.”

Roman frowned. “What are you trying to say here, Virgil?”

“Why were you so angry?” Virgil asked softly, looking into Roman’s eyes. “You were so mad, so incredibly furious at Patton…. No one else was. And you didn’t know the whole story.”

“Virgil…”

“Again, I’m not mad,” Virgil clarified. “Or disappointed, or anything of the sort. I’m just confused. I mean, as soon as you learned Patton was the one who knocked me down, you were so angry! You didn’t even listen to his defense...it took Janus yelling at you and his explanation to shut y-- to stop your anger. Your apology was fine and sincere and Patton understood your actions so, again, I’m not mad. Why were you so angry, though? No one else was. But you were. Why?”

“I…” Roman trailed. “I care about you, Virgil. You know this.”

Virgil’s eyebrows creased. “Is this your way of telling me the others don’t?”

“No!” Roman exclaimed. “I just...didn’t like to see you hurt. My fight with Remus, while it got a bit angry verbally, neither of us were injured. The same happened in Janus and Logan’s sword fight. It was as if there was an unspoken rule that no one should be hurt. I didn’t think that you getting hurt was fair. And so I lashed out at Patton...the person who seemed to break that rule. I know it was wrong to do so as I didn’t have all the information and am very aware of how much he loves and cares for you, but I wasn’t thinking. I was just angry. I apologize. I know how much Patton means to you, and I’m sorry for making him feel bad when he shouldn’t. When he didn’t deserve it.”

Virgil nodded. “I get that, I guess. You don’t need to apologize any more though, you already did. Again, I’m just...shocked that you were the one who got so mad at him….”

“Is that really so hard to believe, emo nightmare?” Roman asked with a smile. “I’m the one in the group who goes after those who I believe have done wrong, I’m the one who doesn’t listen when I should—”

“Roman…”

“—and I’m also the one who tries to valiantly protect people. Not anyone else.”

Virgil chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to protect me, Roman. I’m fight or flight, right? I can do the fight part for myself, you know.”

“Aww, but what if I want to protect you from harm?” Roman teased.

Virgil hit Roman’s shoulder lightly. “You don’t need to. Besides, the harm had already been done.”

Roman chuckled, taking a tiny step closer to Virgil. “Don’t try to stop me from protecting you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

Virgil snorted. “I can try.”

Roman laughed, shaking his head. “Why can’t you let me show my love for you the way I know how to?” The question was light, joking, casual. It meant next to nothing to Roman when it left his lips.

However, it had the opposite effect on Virgil. He looked down towards his feet, noticing how Roman was four feet away from him. The anxious side didn’t know whether to be happy the creative side couldn’t see his blush or sad he wasn’t closer.

“Y-Your love for me?” Virgil asked quietly, still looking at the grass.

“Of course, my raisin oatmeal cookie. You are my fellow side, my friend, my lovely Incredible Sulk! Don’t we all love you?” Roman replied, more nervous than he let on.

“O-Oh, yeah.”

“And even still, how could anyone not love you?” Roman said with a laugh.

Virgil’s face reddened further. “Can’t be too hard. I seemed to do it without trying.” The nervous side chuckled, approaching the worrisome comment casually, trying to impart sarcasm. He figured a joke would divert any possible attention from his blush.

Roman frowned, looking at the ducked head of Anxiety. “Well, that just won’t do.”

“...What?”

“My wonderful Charlie Frown, we can’t have you not loving yourself,” Roman said, dramatic but soft. He then put his hand under Virgil’s chin and delicately lifted it so he could meet his eyes. He gazed into them, admiring the beautiful shades of purple and green.

“Oh, Princey, it wasn’t that serious-” Virgil started to object, glancing away from Roman.

“No no no,” Roman silenced him, moving his hand from Virgil’s chin to in front of his lips, his index finger pointed up as a signal for him to stop talking. “You have to know how amazing you are, or at least learn.”

Virgil shook his head rapidly. “No. No, no. We are not doing this. It’s not that important anyway. Please don’t do this.”

Roman shook his head. “Do what? Tell you how spectacular you are?” His hand dropped from in front of Virgil’s mouth.

“Spectacular is subjective,” Virgil objected. “But yeah. Don’t do that.”

“Hmm…” Roman seemed to be pondering this. “Considering we are supposed to be talking about other topics, I guess I’ll do so another time, my dazzling Doctor Gloom.”

Virgil exhaled lightly. He was free of compliments for the time being. He didn’t dare argue, as that might cause Roman to take back what he said and say nice things about him. Virgil didn’t think he could take all of Roman’s dramatic sweetness, especially considering it was all platonic...right? He did say ‘friend’….

Roman looked at Virgil, his friend, his former enemy, with overwhelming love in his eyes. While it would be wrong of him to compliment him now, he couldn’t just leave that at that. He had to do something to demonstrate that Virgil should love himself. At least, that he was loved by others.

“Oh, Roman, look.” Virgil’s voice was small with wonder. His eyes left Roman’s and rested on the night sky above them. “The sun has set and the stars are out. There’s so many of them!”

Roman turned his head from Virgil to look. “Indeed. It’s quite beautiful.”

“Yeah…”

“Almost as beautiful as you.”

“You corny son of a bitch!” Virgil exclaimed, whacking Roman’s arm. “You said you’d stop complimenting me. And gosh, even if you still did, that was too cliché.”

“What? You walked right into it,” Roman defended with a shrug. “I’m not wrong either.”

Virgil took a deep breath, repressing his annoyance and a blush that wanted to crawl across his cheeks. “No more, Princey.”

Roman laughed, glancing at Virgil. His eyes lingered on the anxious side and the unique way the stars lit up the face Roman already adored so much.

Virgil glanced at Roman, doing a double take when he noticed the creative side’s eyes already on him. “What is it, Roman?”

Roman chuckled, placing his hand and laying his gaze on Virgil’s jaw, finger grazing over the white foundation that covered the emo’s face. He flicked his eyes up to meet the purple and green ones of his companion. “Oh, Virgil. Sweet Virgil.” Roman could see the red even through the makeup. He took a few steps closer to him. “May I kiss you?”

Virgil’s eyes widened. This was one of, no, the last thing he ever expected to leave Roman’s mouth. He stared at Roman—looking so absolutely majestic in the moonlight, so unbelievably attractive. His prince, his creativity, his talented, charming Roman was asking if he could kiss him.

“Please,” Virgil whispered, the one word laced with clear desire.

Roman smiled widely, looking down at his emo and placing his lips against his. They both closed their eyes, Roman’s hand not leaving Virgil’s jaw and his other arm encircling the purple side’s waist. Virgil wrapped his left arm around Roman’s neck and rested his right hand on the prince’s chest.

The kiss was delicate and so incredibly loving. It was purposeful, but soft. There was no lust but oh so much romance, no need for more but also quite desperate. The kiss wasn’t short—and it seemed just long enough—but it still had the two treat every second of it like precious gold as they savored the other like rich chocolate consumed on a warm evening. It left the two addicted to the other in a way that made sure what had just occurred would happen many more times in the future.

The two pulled away at the same time, letting their lips part so terribly slowly it was as if they were trying to make the most out of the last couple of seconds. Their eyes stayed closed, their arms not moving from where they were positioned on the other, and their faces flushed from the kiss.

Roman opened his eyes first: slowly, and with reluctance. He swept his thumb under Virgil’s closed right eye lightly, across his eyeshadow, and smiled at the beauty that was his emo. A part of him wanted him to lean down and kiss him more but another wanted to watch his radiant romance process what happened.

Roman watched as his purple prince opened his eyes slightly and smiled at him. Roman, already smiling, just looked at Virgil with fond wonder, always thinking the side couldn’t get more attractive and then constantly being proved wrong.

“Was it nice?” Roman asked after a comfortable silence, voice low and quiet. He moved his hand from Virgil’s jaw to brush hair out of his face.

“Nice? No,” Virgil replied at the same volume, sliding his right hand up Roman’s chest and around his neck. “Wonderful beyond words? Definitely.”

Roman put his forehead against Virgil’s, humming as he placed the hand formerly resting on his love’s face around his waist. “It is my sworn duty to make you happy.”

Virgil chuckled. “I suppose I shall have to take that ‘sworn duty’ upon myself in reference to you now, hmm?”

“Oh, my darling, you don’t have to do anything for me except exist happy and healthy in my arms.”

Virgil snorted. “You’re such a sap, you know that?”

“Yes, I do.”

The two stayed where they were in comfortable silence. Admiring the other, admiring the stars in their peripheral vision, relishing the magnificent feeling that came from being in each other’s arms.

“I had another question, you know.”

Roman hummed in acknowledgment.

“Why did you cast me as the cursed prisoner?”

“You were being annoying. Endearingly so, yes, but the fact still stands.”

“I’m always interrupting you with sarcasm,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “You wanted to save me, didn’t you? The prince, rescuing the prisoner. Very ‘damsel in distress’-esque, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, give me a break. Who can blame me for wanting to save you, and what did you expect when I was given the opportunity?”

“It’s fine, Princey,” Virgil stated with a laugh. “It’s cute. Adorable, really. Very romantic.”

Roman groaned and gave his Virgil a kiss on the jawline. “Take it as a way to tell you that I will protect and save you from harm, especially throughout...whatever we have going on here.”

Virgil chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

The two heard the door to the Imagination open, but they didn’t move away from each other.

“Aww, you two,” Patton cooed. “I finished making dinner. Come now, kiddos, we’re already eating way too late.”

Virgil and Roman gave Patton a nod of acknowledgement and gave each other a short and final kiss before heading out of the Imagination.

~

Prince Charming Taglist -  @the-sympathetic-villain @justanotherhumanstuff @thistledown15

~

Hope you liked the next installment of this fic! Feel free to ask to be on the taglist, if you want.

#prinxiety #ts fanfic #roman #virgil #romantic prinxiety #patton #remus #logan #janus #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #intrulogical #pre moceit #romantic intrulogical #prince charming #fic #swearing tw #food tw #food mention #injury mention #julia writes

[sugarbutterbroadway]

Davey-Doll chapter 2

The shade was a welcome change as Davey entered the school grounds. He could feel the sweat soaking his under shirt. Sometimes he missed being young when dressing for the weather was acceptable and not considered a social taboo. He scanned the grounds for his younger brother who usually stuck out like a sore thumb. The Jacobs children were fairly tall, tall enough you could pick them out in a crowd. The same applied for Les, coupled with his curly brown hair that he refused to cut, you couldn’t miss him. It only took a few minutes to spot him. Davey walked a bit closer and snapped his fingers to get Les’ attention. He didn’t necessarily like the school grounds so he wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. He watched as Les said goodbye to his friends and waltzed over. 

“You’re late,”he said. Davey rolled his eyes and grabbed Les’ bag to swing over his shoulder.

“Hello to you too”

“What?”He smirked, “I’m just telling the truth. What took you so long? You’re never late”

“I got off of work late”Davey said, he was lying straight through his teeth. “Let’s go.”

“Touchy today”He said, raising a brow. “What, is there conflict at the theatre? Somebody monologue wrong? Did somebody say Mac-”

“You finish that sentence and your ass is going to mother’s”Davey warned.

“Alright, sorry”He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Honestly, what’s wrong Davey?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”Davey asked, “I’m perfectly fine”

“You’re squeezing my bookbag like it owes you money,”he said, pointing to Davey’s nails digging into the leather. “Your knuckles are white”

“They didn’t choose their race,”Davey said.

“You know what I mean!”He huffed, “But if you want me to drop it, i’ll drop it”

The tension in Davey’s jaw loosened a bit and he bumped his shoulders against Les’ to say thank you. The two continued walking towards Davey’s apartment before he remembered. He paused sharply and dug in his pocket for his key.

“What’re you doing?”

He pulled out the key and placed it in Les’ hand. “I wanted to stop by Racetrack’s job on the way back. I don’t know how long i’ll be so-”

“Hell yes!”He said, snatching the keys from his fingers. Davey quickly looked around before thumping Les’ temple.

“Watch your mouth!”Davey hissed. Les scoffed and stuffed the key into his pocket.

“Like you’re one to talk”he said.

“I’m twenty-five”Davey said, “I’m allowed to cuss”

“And i’m eighteen”He said, “And the sky is blue,and the grass is green,and the trees are brown, and-”

“You just love to hear yourself talk don’t you?”Davey asked.

Les smiled and nodded his head. “Guilty”

“You’re hopeless”Davey mumbled. He took the bookbag off his shoulder and handed it to Les. “I won’t be home any later than ten. You know how to make dinner,don’t touch my liquor--i’ll know--and no Sally can’t come over”

“Why!”he whined. 

“Because you’re not married,”Davey said.

“That’s so unfair!”he continued, “You have Katherine over and you two aren’t married”

Davey felt his face heat up but he tried to keep stern. “It’s not the same”

“Why is it not the same?”He asked.

“Because it’s not”

“That’s not a reason”He said.

“I’ll tell you when you’re taller”

“I’m not getting any taller!”he exclaimed.

“Then isn’t that tough for you?”Davey said, narrowing his eyes. “Drop it.” “But-” “Drop. It.”Davey said through clenched teeth, “You shouldn’t even be focused on relationships right now anyways. You’re in your last year of high school, you’ve got plenty time for that after you’ve graduated”

Les laughed through his nose and shook his head. “You just wouldn’t understand”

“Why wouldn’t I?”Davey asked, folding his arms. “Pray tell. Tell me how your teenage angst is anything I haven’t already been through?”

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be in love”He said, “When you were in high school all you did was keep your nose in a book”

“Because I was focused on my education and not on girls”Davey said, squeezing his fingers in his palms.

“Yeah”Les huffed, “never focused on girls. If you weren’t my brother i’d think you were one of those fucking homosexuals”

Davey’s body ran cold. “Watch your mouth with me Les, and your tone-”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”He said, “you’re not dad”

“I may not be dad but I'm the one who raised you!”For a moment he forgot where they were. The turning heads did little to cool the rage inside of him. He was breathing hard, he could feel it in the way his lungs constricted. Les’ scowl faltered.

“Davey-”

“Go home Les”Davey said, rubbing his temples. “Just...we’ll talk later”

“Davey ‘m sorry-”

“Go.”

Les sighed and twisted the key in his hand. “I’ll see you at home”

-

Davey scowled the whole way to Racetrack’s job. He hoped the walk to lower manhattan would calm him anger but it just made him sweaty and angry. He hated arguments, hated them with a passion. He hated the way they got him fired up and the only way to calm down was to scream his head off, it was disgusting. He didn’t ask for any of this. He didn’t ask for his father’s death,he didn’t ask to take over as Les’ guardian,he didn’t ask for his youth to be cut so short. But he still did so without complaining,without so much as a thank you for sacrificing so much of his time and this is what he gets? You’re not dad. Les has always been testy with his boundaries, but the minute he turned eighteen he thinks all of the ground rules they had laid out just evaporated? Davey would rather watch paint dry than let this little brat run around lawless with no home training.

He had his reasons. 

That Sally was a nice girl sure but it was Les he was worried about. He was young and dumb and didn’t know the first things on dating etiquette. He was a sweet kid but the only thing on his mind was probably getting her stripped down to her corset. Davey wasn’t ready to become an uncle and dear god if he did get her pregnant they didn’t have the money to offer her family a dowry for the wedding and-he screwed his eyes shut as a searing pain shot across his temple, this was giving him a headache. He tried to keep his mind on the present. Sally wouldn’t be over there,which means there’s no chance of Les getting her pregnant which means no wedding and no dowry. He took a deep breath as he turned the corner to the shop where Racetrack worked. The bell on the door chimed as he walked in. Racetrack had it pretty good compared to the other newsies who entered the adult working world. He had an inside job where he spent all day crunching numbers and approving building plans for architects. From the looks of his new threads, it paid well. It made Davey happy to know at least one of his boys had made it out of poverty.

Race looked up at the sound of the door and grinned. “Wrong building, theatre’s down the street”

“Good to see you too, ‘track”

“Hey hey hey”Race said, looking around the busy shop. “Let’s keep the names professional”

Davey rolled his eyes. “My apologies, Antonio”

“Much better”Race grinned, “It’s good to see you, David”

“Likewise”Davey said, matching his smile.

“So uh, what brings you here?”Race asked.

“Just passed through Newsie square earlier”Davey said, “reminded me of you”

“I’m touched”Race said, his grin was just as goofy as when he was sixteen. “See anything new?”

“I saw Elmer”he shrugged,  “Kid’s got a mustache”

“God that’s weird”Race groaned, “Anything else?”

Davey clenched his jaw a bit and nodded. “I uh...I saw a cowboy on my way through”

Race’s eyes bulged out of his skull. “A cowboy?”

Davey nodded.“The cowboy”

Race paused, taking a look around the room. “Let’s take this to my office”

And this is one of the many things Davey appreciated about Racetrack. They could go without speaking for months on end and still be on the same page whenever they see each other. Davey waited patiently as Race spoke in what sounded like Italian to the other workers. Once he was given the okay, the two walked towards the back of the shop where a few doors were located. Race pulled out a key and opened up the door at the very end of the hall, Davey couldn’t help but marvel. It was a small space but Race kept it surprisingly tidy. He gestured for Davey to take a seat.

“This is ni-”

“What the hell do you mean you saw Jack?”Race demanded. Davey’s eyes widened in bewilderment.

“What the hell happened to formalities?”

“Out there, I'm Antonio”Race said, “But in here, I’m Racetrack. Now, what the hell happened Davey?”

Davey then proceeded to explain everything, failing to not get a little misty eyed as it finally hit him. This is the man who broke his heart, who he hadn’t seen in almost ten years. Who vanished without a trace and now he’s back. Race listened intently the whole time, gnawing on his bottom lip. At some point the two had ended up on the floor, backs pressed against Race’s desk.

“Fuck, Davey”he cursed, running a hand through his curls. “Why the fuck is he here?”

“I don’t know,”Davey said, shaking his head. “I-I...none of it makes sense”

“This isn’t good”He mumbled, more to himself than Davey. “This really isn’t good”

“I know”Davey sighed.

He snapped his fingers a bit when he noticed Davey was staring at the floor.“Look at me”

“ ‘m lookin”Davey grumbled.

“You shouldn’t do this to yourself, Davey”He said. “Jack Kelly is the past an’ he’s got no place in your future”

“I know!”Davey exclaimed, now he was frustrated. “I-I know it’s just-it’s just he makes me feel things”

Race scoffed, “yeah, makes yer dick feel things”

“No, ‘track”Davey said, shaking his head. “It’s more than the sex-it’s always been more than the sex”

“Not to him”He said with a humorless chuckle. “He fucked you and then tossed ya to the curb, is that a man you really want to go back to?”

“You don’t understand,”Davey said.

“Then make me understand,”Race said. “What is it about Jack Kelly that he’s got such a hold on you?”

“You should know, you’ve been with him,”Davey said.

Race shook his head.“Obviously not in the same way you were”

“He just”he took a deep breath, it was fine to think about in the comfort of his own home but to spill his truth out in broad daylight made him uneasy. “He made me feel so special...always told me that I was the only one for him,that he’d never let me go and then…”

“Then the proposal happened,”Race said softly.

“I still wonder what went wrong”He chuckled, a tear slid down his face. Race leaned over and brushed it off his cheek.

“It sounds like you never really got over him,”Race said. Davey let out a watery laugh and wrapped his arms around himself. Race brought a hand up and patted his shoulder, it made Davey laugh a little harder and he shook his head.

“How could I, Race?”He whispered, “He meant everything to me”

“I don’t wanna get your hopes up”Race said slowly, “But maybe Jack was scared”

“What?”he croaked.

“Jack’s never had anyone love him”Race said. “He was always a one and done kind of guy no matter who the person was.”he did a little shimmy pointing to himself “Then you pop into his life and maybe it scared him”

“I don’t understand,”he sniffled.

“I hate to admit it ‘cause he was playin you like a fiddle” Race huffed, “But you were a powerteam. Sure I was his second but you, you was Davey. Every Newsie knew your name, you ran this borough like-like his queen!”

“Was it really like that?”He asked, it had been so long.

“Any Newsie with eyes knew you belonged to Jack”Race said, rolling his eyes. 

“and Jack didn’t usually like that kinda shit, liked to keep his hookups private. But he paraded and pampered you around like you’s went”

“I thought we did”Davey muttered bitterly.

“Jack’s afraid of change”Race continued, “I ain’t trying to make no excuses or get your hopes up but you was different Davey, and maybe that scared him”

“I...I don’t know what to say”Davey said. 

“Then we don’t gotta speak no more”Race said softly, and Davey loved and hated it at the same time. He hated being treated like a charity case, like he was fragile and would fall apart at the slightest touch. But at the same time it was what he craved, all he wanted at the end of the day was to be loved.

“Can’t believe we’re still doin this”Davey chuckled, running a hand over his face. “It’s just like we’re still teenagers”

“Well...don’t you miss it”He said. Davey turned to face him and furrowed his brows.

“What’s there to miss?”Davey asked. 

“Tell me you don’ miss stayin at the lodging house”

“I don’t miss staying at the lodging house--ow!”

Davey rubbed his temple where Race had flicked him.

“Shut up”He rolled his eyes, “You definitely do. Getting drunk off our asses?piling into those tiny rooms together at night? The best days of my life”

“A nightmare,”Davey said, wrinkling up his nose.

“It’s a dream when yer queer”he winked. Davey gasped and smacked his shoulder.

“Racetrack Higgins!”

“What!”He exclaimed, “I’m telling the truth!”

“You can’t just say things like that in public!”Davey hissed, “For god sake man, use a code word or something!”

“Fine”he rolled his eyes, “As a homosexual-”

“Racetrack”

“Alright!”he laughed, “Alright i’m done, honest”

“Sodomy is a crime”Davey said with serious eyes, “I know things were different when we were Newsies but...this is the real world now, we could get in serious trouble for it”

“Ain’t no crime”He said, his eyes were blazing.

“Race-”

“No”He growled, “It ain’t no crime! ‘m sick an’ tired of treatin it like one! My love for another man shouldn’ be enough to get me killed when i’m a good person! I’s a better person then-then half of these priests and men of the ‘high society!’”

“I know,”Davey said softly, but Race wasn’t done.

“I fuckin miss being a Newsie”He said, “Sure I was dirt poor but I miss that world! Nobody cared whose pants I was gettin into or whose bed I was in. it was all about sellin my papes and makin sure I was fed...”

“This is still a sore spot for you,”Davey said and Race chuckled.

“Damn right it is”he said. “I got so much by joining this world but...I lost more than i’d like to admit”

Davey nodded in understanding. “You two went together like candles and burning”

He let out a shallow chuckle. “Where do you come up with this shit?”

“I work at a theatre”Davey shrugged, “part of the job”

“I’m tired’a bein angry in silence”He said, staring at the wall. “I want a change to come”

“One day”Davey said. “Might be a hundred years from now but one day two men-queers-”he choked on the word. “-If you will, will be able to hold hands and kiss and even get married”

“And we’ll have carriages that run on sunshine”He said, sliding down the desk and laying on his back. Davey joined him.

“There’ll be pictures that move”Davey chuckled.

“Clocks that speak”

“We’ll be able to walk on water”

“And dogs that meow”

“And cats that bark”

“And we’ll go to space!”he grinned, lifting an arm up to trace imaginary lines along the ceiling. 

“All in our wildest dreams”Davey grinned, placing his arms under his head. The conversation fell to a lull and Race laid his head on Davey’s chest. If he closed his eyes and squeezed hard enough he could almost feel the faulty springs of the lodging house mattress and hear the boys telling stories to keep the chill of winter off their bones. He could hear Elmer and the other younger boys playing in the corner, while Specs spun a tale about a boy with magic beans. He could feel Albert’s legs laid over his and Finch playing with his hair. Sometimes he really did miss it.

“You’re thinking hard”Race said, his eyes closed as well. Davey hummed and felt a wave of warm nostalgia roll over him.

“Yeah...yeah I am” 

#davey newsies #newsies jack kelly #racetrack higgins #davey jacobs #jack kelly x david jacobs #newsies broadway #livesies #Race and Davey's friendship is PURE #fight me fight me fight me #like PLEASEEEE #sweet boys

[birds-punch]

The One That Got Away

“Summary: Shadow finds himself comforting his arch-rival after witnessing the messy break-up with the Princess.

(Takes Place after issue 134, aka the Infamous Slap.)

Characters: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog, Sally Acorn (mentioned).

Pairings: Sonadow (Pre-relationship), Sonally (Past.)

A/N: Here’s the next Archie! Sonadow AU fanfic. Sorry for the terrible wait. Hope u all enjoy reading this! 

Shadow skidded to a stop as he surveyed the green vegetation area of Knothole forest, looking for a certain blue hedgehog who ran off in a fit of distress. He did not understand why he wanted to look for the blue hedgehog who is also his arch-rival, but his instincts were telling him to and being the Ultimate Lifeform, he knew his instincts were never wrong.

When the black hedgehog learnt, that Sonic has somehow came back from the dead; or more accurately…came back to Mobius from being lost in space for a year, Shadow has been feeling a strange emotion just like what he felt during that same year. Ever since the day Sonic “died”, he’s been feeling a very strange emotion in his chest which was vastly different, than the warm magnetic pull he felt when the two of them saw each other face to face. It was cold, empty and painful that constantly gnawed at him, much to his own irritation while he kept continuing his ongoing mission of discovering his true purpose in life.

But now that he learned Sonic is alive, that terrible feeling of pain and emptiness had been replaced with the warm magnetic pull he felt before. Which was why earlier that night, he found himself hiding away from everyone’s view in the trees as he watched what had literally played on stage, like a messed-up tragic soap opera that he used to watch with Maria during his time on the ARK.

After going deeper into the forest, he finally found a familiar shade of azure blue in a small clearing, sitting near the lake in a fetal position, his head resting in his arms.

In any different kind of scenario, the black hedgehog would’ve found this scene of his arch-rival wallowing in sadness, rather pathetic. But because of what happened earlier tonight, this was understandable; since it seemed like both him and the princess loved each other very much. Shadow also didn’t understand why he feels that same empty feeling when he thinks of his rival’s now former relationship with the princess at times.

The black hedgehog begins quietly walking closer before he stopped at the blue hedgehog’s side, who either did not noticed his presence or became too emotionally drained to even respond to any kind of sound or movement.

“Faker?” Shadow spoke, seeing if this might initiate a response in his rival.

Sonic jumped from his spot, being rather startled by the voice. He quickly turned his head around to the side, to see his black and red rival standing over him with an unreadable expression. The blue hedgehog made quick work of wiping any eyes left on his face and eyes before plastering on a small fake smile, “H-Hey Shadow, what’cha doing all the way out here near Knothole?”

Like when he was looking for the blue hedgehog, Shadow allowed himself a moment to observe the blue hedgehog. His green eyes that were once filled with life, were now nearly dead and lifeless with a slight red tint and swollen due to crying. Bags also started forming under his eyes and his quills were slightly drooping, along with his ears.

The black hedgehog took a seat next to his rival, much to the latter’s surprise; as he started trying to think on what he should say to him, without showing that he cares for his rival after witnessing what happened over several minutes ago.

“You should be with your friends, blue hedgehog. Not out here alone.” Shadow said, before mentally kicking himself, what the hell was that?

Hearing what his rival just said, Sonic immediately groans as realisation kicked in, hiding his face again.

‘Can this get any worse for me?’ he thought.

He slightly lifted his head, “Did you see all that, Shadow?”

The said hedgehog looked at the blue blur before letting out a sigh, “Yes, indeed I have Faker. I only came out here because I…because I.” he immediately looked away, knowing his attempt at trying not look like he cares, is starting fail.

Oh, fuck.

Sonic blinked for a few moments looking surprised, before he was able to recover some of that cockiness back to make a remark at his rival, “Aww! I didn’t know you cared about me, Faker. It almost makes me see you in a whole different light.”

Shadow only gave a glare his rival, little annoyed that the blue blur was able to figure out his intentions that easily. This only made Sonic chuckle in return as he begins to feel slightly better from the events, that possibly took place nearly an hour ago. It did not last exceptionally long however, as the thought of it made the hedgehog feel sombre again.

Noticing that his rival had become depressed again, Shadow decided to speak up again, while also deciding to give up trying to hide his care for his rival’s well-being. At least for just one night.

“Everything alright, hedgehog?” he asked, despite already knowing what.

The blue hedgehog looked at his rival for a short moment before answering, “Aw, it nothing Shadow. Just thinking about…Sally and everything.” He then lets out a sigh, perking the black hedgehog’s ears a little.

Shadow found himself falling deep into his thoughts as he began to remember…

Sonic’s face became one of sadness, as he gently brushed the princess’s hand away from his cheek.

“Sorry, Sal. I…can’t.”

A loud slap resounded throughout the area, as everyone watched in shock or even gasped loudly. Shadow who was watching everything from the cover of the tress, even looked slightly shocked as he watched what just happened. He felt an extremely dark feeling form in his chest as he watched the princess slapped the blue hedgehog across his face, hard.                                                                                      

“I SHOULD’VE KNOWN YOU’D BE SELFISH!”

As the blue hedgehog held his throbbing cheek, his expression turned to one of great shock, to seething anger. “Selfish…? Selfish?!?”

He then screamed at the top of his lungs in a tone filled with utter outrage and anger, that the black hedgehog has never heard him use before: “I SACRIFICED MY LIFE TO SAVE THE PLANET, ENDED UP ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE BECAUSE OF IT, DID EVERYTHING I COULD TO GET BACK ONLY TO FIND OUT I LOST A WHOLE YEAR OF MY LIFE AND NOW I WANNA JUST END THIS STUPID WAR! HOW IS THAT SELFISH?!”

The princess already started having tears coming down here, “Do you know what it was like believing you were dead? It completely broke my heart! Watching Mecha hurt you, brought it all back and I refuse to have my heart broken again, Sonic.”

While the black hedgehog was able to understand her reason for calling Faker selfish, he was also fairly sure that she wasn’t the only selfish person here.

“WHAT’S MORE IMPORTANT TO YOU, ANYWAY?! PUNCHING OUT ROBOTNIK’S LIGHTS, OR BEING WITH ME?”

A huge heavy silence fell over everyone as the two started to face off against one another. Like the blue hedgehog’s lover, or ex-lover as it seems right now; Sonic also started to have tears running down his muzzle. Shadow’s expression had changed back to his regular cold expression, but his eyes were slightly wider than normal, as he continued to watch the scene.

Taking her ex-consort’s silence as a no, the princess ran off the stage leaving a devastated Sonic.

“THEN HE CAN HAVE YOU,  ALL TO HIMSELF!”

In a matter of seconds, the two tailed fox and the pink hedgehog came rushing to the edge of the stage, asking their friend if he was alright, snapping him out of the depressed trance. The moment the blue hedgehog had noticed that everyone had all been watching, his eyes widen as he began to hyperventilate and started shaking like he was going into shock, before he dashed off into the forest without a single word, ignoring the cries of his friends to come back.

Straight after the devastated hedgehog fled into the forest, Shadow found himself up on his feet and immediately heading for the distressed hedgehog. He didn’t understand why he wanted to, but his instincts were screaming at him to go after him; as well as that magnetic feeling that seemed to be getting stronger. The only thing he knew, is that he must find his rival…

The black hedgehog fell back to Mobius, his flashback of earlier tonight now fading away. After blinking a few times to help clear his vision, Shadow turned his head back to the blue hedgehog. His expression was still quite depressed from remembering what happened, along with his green eyes that are now slightly flickering with light, but not a lot to look completely alive. And unlike earlier when his rival was speaking to him, he kept his head down at a low angle keeping his stare on the ground with a look of sadness.  

Shadow briefly wondered what he should do. Should he tell his rival what he thinks he should do next now that he and the princess are no longer together? Or should he just leave and ignore the small voice, telling him to do the contrary? After considering his two options; the Ultimate Lifeform took in a deep breath. Well, he got himself into this and he should finish it.

Letting out a huge sigh, Shadow started speaking.

“Listen Hedgehog, I’ve never been in a relationship like your former on with the princess, nor do I know why it feels like to be in one; but…” Well, here goes nothing. “I don’t think that you’re the only one who’s at fault like what she had told you earlier tonight,”

Sonic lifted his head to look at the black and red hedgehog, his expression being that of surprise. Is Shadow trying to talk to him about this or…give him his opinion about it? The blue hedgehog wasn’t sure anymore but allowed himself to listen to what his rival has to say.

“It seems like, the princess doesn't know you or understand you enough to know that you’ll do anything to ensure this world’s protection. Even if you must sacrifice yourself for it. Because you believe that if no one else can stand up for themselves, you wonder who will?” The black hedgehog paused to run his hand through his quills in slight frustration. Why did he decided to do this? He’s never had to deal with anything like this or given this kind of talk to anyone before. “And it may also be a good thing that you broke up with her because; now you could find someone who truly understands you, who can keep up with you, someone who’s willing to give you space and treat you like a person instead of an object and…someone who’s willing to let you fight and be with them at the same time.” Shadow averted his eyes away from the blue hedgehog, not sure what else he could say and feeling a little annoyed, that he had to open up his thoughts like that to his rival.

The blue hedgehog looked at his rival in awe as a strange warm feeling in his chest began to bloom just from hearing Shadow’s words. Despite initially trying to avoid showing how much he cares for him, it was quite obvious that he does, even though it’s actually none of his business and that Shadow had a choice if he wanted to try to comfort him or not.

“You really think it was good that Sally and I broke up, despite the slap?” Sonic could still feel that stinging pain on his cheek from it, along with the broken shards of his heart which seem to dull quite a lot, thanks to his rival and the warm feeling that seem to work as a strong anesthetic.

“What do you think, hedgehog?” Shadow responded, arms folded and giving him a look that accurately says, ‘Come on think, you idiot!’

Seeing the look that he was receiving from his rival, Sonic began thinking on Shadow’s words and the breakup between him and Sally. Despite the fact, he declined when she asked him to give up fighting and stay by her side, he does understand her reason why she asked him however, if he imagined he was in the same position where she sacrificed herself and got lost in space for year instead of him. But he knew that if they or anyone is going have a real future; he needs to help fight this war with everyone else too, otherwise there is a possible chance that they won’t be able to win.

And…if he was also being pretty honest with himself; He hated the idea of someone trying to groom him into someone he’s not; like he’s some-kind of pet or fancy toy for them to play with, instead being treated like an equal. Of course, he knows Sally would never treat him like that, but the thought of it really does scare him. Plus, she should’ve known by now what kind of a person he is by now after all those together, even as kids so; it’s just like what Shadow said. If Sally doesn’t understand his need to risk his life in order to help or save other from Robotnik and to protect Mobius, then maybe she isn’t the one for him.

Sonic couldn’t help himself but let out a breathless laugh, from the irony of the entire situation he got himself into with the black hedgehog.

“I never thought I’ll ever say this but, I think you’re right Shadow.”

The black hedgehog only smirked in response, feeling a little smug. “Hmph! So, you are not as stupid as you look, Faker!”

He then stood up, from where he sat next to his rival. Sonic followed him shortly, standing up from the ground before placing his hand on the Ultimate Lifeform’s arm.

“But really Shadow, thanks for that talk you gave me. I appreciate it.”

Shadow’s eyes widen a little from the touch on his arm, as the warmth in his chest, seemed to grow hotter and started going up to his muzzle. He fought hard to keep the warmth away from reaching his cheeks.

“N-no need to thank me Faker.” He took a small pause to calm himself before continuing, “But know that after this, nothing changes between us. After this night is over, I believe that it is best for the two of us, to forget that this ever happened.”

Sonic only smirked back, “Alright then Faker. After this, we’ll leave this little talk between us forgotten and we’ll go back to kicking each other’s butts, the next time we ran into each other again. Not that you ever managed to kick mine anyway.”

The black hedgehog simply rolled his eyes, “Keep dreaming, Faker.” He said before also adding, “You may also want to go and find your friends as well considering how you just ran away from them earlier tonight.”

This made the blue hero pout after hearing that last sentence, his rival had said to him. But he does have a point though (as much as he hates to admit it.). “And I’ll also forget that you’re also the Ultimate Softie too, Faker!” he yelled out, after waving a goodbye and taking off towards Knothole.

As the blue hedgehog ran off, leaving the black hedgehog standing there by himself in the clearing. Shadow places a hand over his chest where the warmth seems to be, briefly questioning what it is. He then lets out a tiny sigh before skating off into the other direction. Time to get back on his most important mission, now that this one is complete.

(END)

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #archie sonadow #fanfiction #The infamous slap

[hellfirenacht]

Can’t Be Unseen Ch 3

Sal Fisher x Reader

First Chapter

Last Chapter

Ao3

Art by: @ochibi-chan​, thank you so much for the fanart!

'He has no nose.' was the first thing that came to your mind as you found yourself staring in shock at the face of your date clearly for the first time. For as many scary movies you’d seen with Sal and Larry, his face was nothing like the special effects makeup you had grown used to. Sal’s face was real, and it shocked you. 

While you had caught glimpses of him before, it had only been his chin and mouth. You knew that there had been a chunk of his jaw that was misshapen, you saw the deep scar on his mouth as well as the slight discoloration where skin grafts had taken place. 

You weren't prepared for the lack of nose, or the rigid scarred skin that covered most of his face. It scared you- not in a way that would have you running in fear, but in a way a friend would jump out from behind a wall. A moment of horror before realizing that there was no danger, realizing that it was still your friend. 

The shock lasted all of a moment until the kid spoke up again quietly, holding Sal's prosthetic in his hand. 

"Oh..." was all he said before Sal snatched his face back. 

"Hope you're satisfied." Sal mumbled after he clicked it back into place. You looked away, but you already knew it was too late. 

Sal had seen the look on your face when you had seen his, and it wasn't a good one. Guilt washed over you in seconds, replacing the shock. This isn't what you had wanted. Yes, you did want to see his face at some point, but not like this. Not when it wasn't on his terms in a way where you could make him feel safe and have it go as slow as you both needed. But it was too late, you had both seen everything. 

You fucked up. 

He started walking away quickly and you almost had to jog to catch up to him. It was quiet between the two of you but unlike previous times where the quiet had been comforting, this time it was tense and uncomfortable. You couldn't believe how badly you fucked up at such an important moment. You could only imagine how hurt he must be right now, when all you wanted to do was apologize. 

His hand wasn't in yours anymore, and it felt empty. You opened your mouth a few times to say something, anything, to try and convey how sorry you were and that you never wanted to hurt him and that you were just shocked and to please just talk to-

"Every weekend, right?" he asked, still looking straight ahead. 

"...What?" 

"This happens every weekend until Mid-November. That's what you said, right?" You tried to get a read on his voice, but you couldn't. The challenge that you loved was now just a confusing mess. 

"Y-yeah."

"Let's go again next weekend." Sal said, his voice softer and not so distant. Your heart leapt in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. Had you not fucked up so badly after all? Despite what had just happened, had today been enough for your feelings to reach him?

"I- y-yeah sure!" you said quickly, staring at him, though he continued to stare ahead, not glancing at you at all. That should have been your first clue. 

"Yeah, I think Larry and Ashley would really have a lot of fun." Sal continued. "We didn't have a chance to check out many of the art exhibits and I think Larry would be a better ride partner than me." 

Oh.

 This was his way of letting you down gently. It's not like it had been your plan to confess tonight, but it looked like he wasn't even going to give you the chance. Knowing Sal, he was probably doing this to save you the embarrassment after everything that had happened. 

Sal Fisher didn't feel the same way about you. You knew that this was always going to be a possibility, but you didn't think it'd hurt this bad. 

Who knew that the Sally Face Killer's method was to stab you in the heart?

Still though, you had a reputation to uphold, if he was doing his best to let you down easily, the least you could do was take the rejection with grace. You'd save the crying for when you got home, in the privacy of your own bed. 

"Yeah, with all that headbanging he does, a few rides on those spinning things should be a piece of cake." your voice cracked slightly at the end, and you tried to hide it with a cough. 

Addison Apartments was coming up close on you both, and you felt relieved. 

"Thanks for inviting me out today." Sal said as you headed in. "I'm gonna go check on Larry."

He was gonna go tell Larry about how badly you fucked up. 

"Alright." you replied. "I'll, uh, see you at school then." 

For a few moments you were alone on the first floor as Sal used the elevator to go down. He had thanked you, but it didn't feel genuine. He was usually the first to tell someone if he had fun but those last few moments had completely tarnished everything. It wouldn't even surprise you if he shoved the stuffed animal somewhere he would never have to look at it again. 

The elevator finally dinged and you were thankful that no one was inside. It was when the doors finally closed that tears started to form in your eyes. Your parents would be out late tonight- Saturday was their date night. You could go to your room and cry all you wanted without having to worry about them asking intruding questions. 

 Walking into the kitchen, you kicked off your shoes and headed to your room quickly, shutting the door behind you. How had today gone so wrong? How could you have reacted so poorly to seeing your friend and crushes' face? 

And now that you had seen his face, what did that mean? Of course, it was too late to do anything about your feelings at this point, Sal had seen the look on your face when you stared at him. There was no coming back from that. Actions aside though, what did seeing his face really mean to  you in terms of how you felt about him? 

You laid down and closed your eyes, tears still running down your face. Taking deep shaky breaths to try and calm your nerves, you brought the image of his face to mind, at least what you could remember what you had seen today. 

It was best to think of one piece of his face at a time, starting from the bottom up. You had seen his chin before, that wasn't anything that bothered you by now. His lips were thinner than you had thought to begin with, though that was probably because the few times you had glimpsed them, it had been shadowed by the prosthetic. The upper lip was slightly misshapen, as if a part of it had been torn and sewn back together. His lips still looked soft though, 

The nose. Okay, that was something that would take some getting used to. You think there was a slight bump where a nose would normally be, as though the doctors had attempted to keep some of the cartilage in place. The more you thought about it, the more okay it became. 

Skin, you didn't have a problem with. It was patchy and uneven in texture and color but it was okay. There were scars all over his face, from deep looking gashes to sharp thin lines. The skin was pale or red mostly, unsurprising as you were sure that the prosthetic didn't allow much sunlight- not that he would ever take it off outside anyway. His skin also seemed thin and delicate. You briefly wondered what it would feel like to touch his cheeks and feel the different textures of his face. Would he even allow someone to get that close?  

His eyes were the least surprising to you. His eyes had darker circles than you had noticed before, but they were still the same eyes. Or eye? For the sake of argument, you went with eyes. Underneath the prosthetic you sometimes had trouble seeing his eyes, but sometimes when the light hit him just right you were struck by how blue they were.  You had grown to love that shade of blue. 

Blue hadn't meant much to you until you met Sal Fisher. 

The overall expression was... blank. Almost as neutral as his prosthetic. You wondered if it was because he didn't want to show any emotion while so vulnerable or because for so long he never needed his face to communicate. 

As you pieced together his face in your mind, a pain shot through your heart as you realized something important. 

No matter what his face looked like, you still desperately liked him. 

The next hour was dedicated to clinging to your pillow and crying ugly tears. The next was dedicated to looking over your phone and trying to decide if you should talk to Larry or Ashley about what happened. 

You couldn't tell them the whole truth, you decided. They had both seen Sals' face before and had been so kind about it. The way Sal talked about it, they didn't even blink at the sight of him. 

You felt awful. 

Your phone dinged.

AshleyFace: So how'd it go?

Here goes nothing. You were glad you were home alone in your room and not around anyone else. 

BlankFace: Sal was a complete gentleman and let me down gently. I'm glad I had a chance to go out with him though, I don't have any regrets. 

You had so many regrets. 

AshleyFace: He turned you down? I'm so sorry. I thought you two would have been a cute couple. 

BlankFace: It's okay, at least now you and I can finally be together ;)

AshleyFace: Ha ha. I don't think my girlfriend would like that too much. 

BlankFace: I meant me and Todd. 

AshleyFace: He's still super gay and I think he's got a date with someone coming up. 

BlankFace: ....Chug?

AshleyFace: You know he's got a huge thing for Maple LOL 

BlankFace: Is everyone hooking up except me??

AshleyFace: Larry?

BlankFace: I don't think I have the heart to come between him and his right hand. I'm a flirt, not a homewrecker. 

AshleyFace: LMAO

You smiled as you hunched over your phone. You couldn't bring yourself to tell her exactly what happened, but at least you were able to talk to her a little bit. Acting like you were okay made everything else a little bit more okay. 

What you both saw couldn't be unseen, but you could at least try and move forward. You just hoped that you hadn't lost him as a friend. 

...

School on Mondays always suck, but school on Mondays after a terrible first date with a close friend sucked way harder than anything else. You shoved your bookbag into your locker and headed towards the cafeteria where most people gathered before class started. Normally you would have walked together with Sal and Larry but you had dragged your feet all morning, and told the group chat to go on ahead before you. Sal always liked being more early, and though Larry wasn't exactly a morning person he'd always show up to school with his best friend. 

You looked over at the table where you all met and froze for a moment. You hadn't spoken a word to Sal since Saturday and a knot formed in the pit of your stomach. It was a nauseating feeling to think about going over there and acting like nothing had happened at all this weekend. 

It was easier to just head towards Homeroom, a quiet period where you didn't have any of your friends to talk to. You decided that it would be better to lay low for a while. 

Laying low wasn't super hard. You had art with Ashley and Larry (though Larry was seated at the opposite end of the room, making it slightly easier to avoid any questions), and Ashley wasn't one to pry unless she was convinced that something was wrong. You had never really told anyone the extent of your crush on the boy with pigtails, so making her think you were really okay was surprisingly easy. 

Though Larry was usually one to drop subjects if asked, you found it harder to avoid any questions from him. He pulled you to the side between classes and tried to ask what happened. 

"He's not interested." you replied, trying to shrug it off. "It's no one's fault."

"It... might be mine." Larry suddenly said. "I think I might have said something to make him think that it wasn't a real date."

Oh the irony. You almost wished he was right and that was the reason things were now awkward between you and Sal. You shook your head and place a hand on his shoulder. 

"If that's the case, then it's double clear that he wasn't interested." you said with a small smile. 

"Looks like my crush was dead on arrival, huh?" 

"I'm really sorry about it." Larry frowned. 

"Dude, it's fine." just had to shake him off the trail of your shattered heart now. "Now that's Sal's off the list you better watch yourself- you're third in line." 

"Third? Wait, who's second?"

You just smiled and winked at him as you ducked into your next class. 

It seemed like Sal hadn't told Ashley and Larry about what happened at the end of the date. It was a relief, really. You still weren't ready to face them about how you had treated the guy you had a crush on. 

Science class was torture. It was the one class that you had with Sal, though you didn't sit near him. He was seated near the front and you sat a few seats behind him. On one hand, it meant that he wouldn't be looking at you but on the other, it meant that you got to spend the rest of the hour staring at the back of his head. It wasn't something that normally distracted you, but today it made focusing nearly impossible. 

When the bell rang for lunch, you took your time packing up as you tried to figure out if Sal was going to approach you or not. He briefly glanced over at you, making you feel like a deer in the headlights for a moment. But he continued out the door without saying a word. 

Suddenly you didn't have much of an appetite. 

Still though, you grabbed your bagged lunch from your locker and walked towards the cafeteria, hesitating a moment before walking in and then walking right back out. You suddenly decided that your homework wasn't gonna do itself, so you got a permission slip from one of the teacher on lunch duty and made your way to the school library. You weren't allowed to eat in there, but you weren't hungry anyway. 

The library is where you spent lunch for the rest of the week. It was the one period you had where you felt okay, without the crippling guilt. You could hide in a back corner with your nose in a book, or study, or draw, and the world would leave you alone. 

"Are you avoiding Sally Face?" a voice said from behind you, causing you to jump. You had been so deep into a book that you hadn't heard anyone coming towards you. 

"Ah, what?" you turned to see Larry. "I uh... what?" 

"We haven't seen you all week." he continued. "Sally Face is starting to think you're avoiding him." 

"I'm not!" you said, defensively. "I've just got a lot of school work that I need to catch up on." 

He just shook his head. "You haven't been walking home with us either." 

You didn't have a rebuttal for that one. "I... I just..." you sighed. "Things got weird between us after last weekend." 

"Listen, I kinda get it. You liked Sal more than you let on, yeah? And it's weird now that you know he's not interested but, dude, you can't just keep ignoring all of your friends. You do still want to be friends with him, right?" 

You nodded. 

"Then stop being a coward, and walk home with us again. If you wanna keep hiding in the library at lunch that's fine but... we all miss you." 

There was a slight pang in your chest at the words. 

"Even Sal...?" you asked quietly, unsure. 

"Of course he does. He's the reason I'm talking to you right now. He wanted to talk to you himself but he didn't wanna make your uncomfortable and shit." 

"Really...?" you couldn't help but be surprised. "I thought I blew it..."

"Just 'cause he didn't feel the same way doesn't mean he doesn't still like having you around." 

"I'm an idiot I guess."

"Well yeah, duh." he laughed. "Now you're gonna come home with us today, no buts."

"But I like butts." you shot back with a smirk. 

"There it is." he laughed again. "See you after school."

"Hey, Larry?" 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

...

It became an unspoken agreement that you and Sal didn't talk about the date, and what had happened. It was okay though, you didn't want to face him in a manner of speaking. You three started walking to school again, though it was a few weeks before you really felt okay being so close to him. 

Larry was the real champ about it though, he never let the conversations become awkward between the three of you. He always had some topic to talk about, or some song he wanted to share on your morning commutes. You didn't know what you did to have such a great friend but you were thankful. 

Sal started to slowly talk to you again as well. Despite what Larry had said it was hard to read Sal, or maybe you just weren't ready to read him yet. Talking was slow at first, his questions about science homework, asking him to grab an extra fork at lunch because you forgot to grab one, small talk. But as the fall semester crawled by, you found your friendship starting to stand on solid ground again. 

Flirting with him never felt the same though. It didn't feel right to flirt with someone who had turned you down. At the same time it felt as though he was also keeping his distance from you. You really couldn't blame him. If someone looked at you in shock and horror upon seeing your face for the first time, you wouldn't exactly want to be close to them either. 

Sometimes when you two were left alone for more than a few minutes, you considered bringing it up. You'd get so close to opening your mouth to talk to him but the words would die in your throat. On the one occasion where the words started to make their way out of your mouth, Todd had shown up to introduce you to his new boyfriend, Neil. 

Timing was really not your thing, huh? 

November came and went and your whole group buckled down to study for finals. There were many long nights where you were all crowded into Larry's basement, papers and books strewn everywhere as you all attempted last minute cramming and tutoring on each other. There was more than one night where Lisa would come home to see a handful of kids passed out in her living room, surrounded by notes, or still awake and color coding flashcards.

On one such night, you noticed that Sal was chugging an energy drink that Larry had given him through a crazy straw. One of the two that Sal had bought for you on that night. 

You couldn't tell if it hurt or helped that he still had it. 

Finals ended with a fizzle rather than a bang. You were very unsure about science, but you were confident enough that you at least passed the rest of the tests. By the time the bell rang to let you all out on the last day, everyone had collectively agreed that they were done talking about tests. 

Making your way back to Addison apartments was proving to be more difficult than expected for the three of you. It had snowed the day before and rained a little at night, making the sidewalk a long tail of ice and slush. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, as you all had snow boots, but you had all collectively used the last three brain cells to finish up with school for the semester. This, combined with the lack of sleep from cramming, had left you all feeling slightly delirious and deciding that the three of you slipping and stumbling around was the funniest thing to ever happened. 

"Nope! Nope! Nope! Bad step!" you laughed, stumbling forward after stepping on a hidden patch of ice. You managed to not fall flat on your face this time but you were sure it was going to happen eventually. 

"Larry you should take one for the team and go first." Sal said. "We'll follow behind in your footsteps."

"No way, Sally Face." Larry replied. "If I go first and fall backwards that's a whole domino effect where I end up on top of you both." 

"My one fantasy." You said with a dramatic sigh as Larry turned and winked at you. 

Dragging Sal into your flirts was okay if you roped someone else into it as well. 

"I'll go first!" You volunteered, stretching your legs out to take a big step forward. 

"You've fallen more times than anyone!" Sal said with a shake of his head. 

"Details, details." you said with a hand wave. "Besides, we're almost there! I can see the apart- OOF!"

Your foot landed on another patch of ice, causing you to fall backwards. Larry, having been right next to you by the point, grabbed onto your arm tightly to try and steady you, but the force of your fall was too much. Something softer that the ground was suddenly pressed against your back, as Larry was pressed against your chest. 

"Ow."

"Oof."

"Fuck."

Your fall had both pulled Larry down and knocked Sal over as well. Sal had landed on his butt after unintentionally catching you on the way down, and Larry had ended up on to of you, having landed on his knees pretty hard. The three of you were a little confused for a second, before you decided to break the tension. 

"My other one fantasy." 

Larry let out a laugh that was more like a snort as he made his way back onto his feet. Behind you, you could hear Sal let out a small laugh as well. It took some doing, but eventually you all managed to stand back up, brushing off the snow and dirt from your clothes. 

"Anyone hurt?" you asked. 

"Scraped knee and hands." Larry said. 

"Scrapped elbow." you replied. 

"Scrapped butt." Sal added. 

"Want me to kiss it better?" you and Larry both said at the same time before all three of you started laughing again. 

Through the power of teamwork, the three of you managed to make it to the apartment complex with much fewer casualties. Larry left you two alone quickly, stating he wanted to get his hands cleaned up so his mom wouldn't worry. It seemed weird that he was in a rush to get going, but then Sal spoke up. 

"Hey uh, do you want to take a walk?" 

You looked at him slightly surprised at the invitation. When was the last time you had been alone for more than a few minutes to talk? 

No, you already knew the answer. 

"Sure." you agreed, and he lead you around the building, starting a trek of doing laps. 

It was quiet for a while, with nothing but the sound of your shoes crunching against the fresh snow. A cold breeze made you hug yourself and adjust the scarf around your neck so that it covered your mouth. Dumb you had forgotten to bring lip balm, and you really didn't want to get chapped lips. The sound of your name from right next to you bought you back down to Earth. 

"Are we... okay?" Sal asked, still looking ahead as he spoke. 

You weren't sure how to answer that, or even if there was a good answer to be given. 

"I... huh?" 

"That night at the festival," Sal continued. "You saw what was under my prosthetic." 

Oh. Oh no. You weren't ready for this conversation. You weren't ready to talk to him about this. Panic bubbled in the pit of your stomach. There was no going back now. 

"Yeah... I did." you said quietly. "I'm sorry." 

"You didn't rip my face off." 

You shook your head. "No but... I..." you took a deep breath, willing the small lump in your throat to go away. "I shouldn't have reacted like I did." 

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" His voice was soft, comforting, non-judgmental. It made you want to cry even more. 

"No... well, not fully." you started, and after a moment of silence you continued. "I saw your face and reacted badly and I hated myself for reacting badly because Ashley and Larry both saw without freaking out or saying anything and I couldn't be like that for you so I just thought it’d be better to stay away." 

You finally took a breath after spewing up the word vomit. You didn't mention him not returning your feelings as you hoped that went without saying. 

"I'm used to people looking at me like that." He was trying to make you feel better, but the words just cut into your heart. Your eyes felt hot as they started to water, but you were trying hard not to let any tears escape. 

"You shouldn't though!" you snapped back. "You... you're a great guy and I like you a lot and you shouldn't have to deal with stupid people like me not knowing how to react to your face!" 

He stopped walking and looked at you. Tears were escaping your eyes now, and you were shaking hard. He reached up and placed a hand on your shoulder. 

"Do you still want to be friends?" he asked softly. 

You nodded and he pulled you into a tight, warm hug. Your nose was smooshed up against his ear muffs, and you were sure that some of your tears were landing in his hair but you felt okay for the first time in months. 

It was scary how empathetic and kind Sal could be. Always willing to give people as many chances as they needed to grow. You hoped that one day you could show someone even a fraction of the kindness that he had shown you. 

"I missed you." He said, not letting go of you. 

"I missed you, too." you whispered back. 

You two stayed like that for a while. Even though it was freezing outside, his hug was so warm. It was you who ended up pulling back first, not wanting to accidentally get some snot into his hair. 

"Now that things are better I wanted to ask you something." Sal said, starting to walk again, you fell into step with him. 

"What's up?" 

"Dad's wanting to have a small holiday party next week." Sal explained. "Nothing fancy but he wants you and Ashley and Larry to come by and roast marshmallows and watch Rudolf." 

You couldn't help but smile. "That sounds like a lot of fun, actually. I'd love to drop by." 

The two of you were in front of the building again, and he lead the two of you inside. 

"Cool, the party starts at six next Friday." He pushed the button for the elevator. 

"Six on Friday. Gotcha." you pulled out your cell and made a note of it." 

The two of you said your goodbyes as he made his way to the basement to invite Larry and you made your way back up to your room. 

Things were finally starting to feel normal again. 

...

LarryFace: so did you 2 kiss and make up yet?

BlankFace: Too soon. But we did make up. 

LarryFace: u goin to the party then?

BlankFace: Yup! You?

LarryFace: ya me and mom are gonna be there

BlankFace: Cool! See you there then! 

Next Chapter

#sal fisher x reader #sal x reader #sally face x reader #sally face #nacht post #nacht fic #cbu

[radiosteve]

Need Your Loving Tonight Ch. 10

Summary: In celebration of Queen signing to Trident Records, you decide to take them out for the evening.

Note: Hi everyone! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I’m back at school now but I’m going to try and keep my uploads regular. This photo is one that I found on google. I do not own any rights to it. If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you!  

Warnings: Language, slight sexual content

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x Reader

Words: 3.4k+

  November 4, 1972

 By the time October and November rolled around, the boys had amassed a large collection of unrecorded songs. While they had a handful that they managed to record a few months back, they knew that they couldn’t be a proper band without a full-fledged album. So, through a mass of phone calls and encouragement from you, Queen finally signed onto Trident Records. They were reluctant at first, but you managed to help convince them after a while. And in order to celebrate such a big achievement in their music career, offered to take them all out one night.

 “Ok, just remember that we’re having dinner first and then we’re going out to some new dance club. Please make sure Roger dresses appropriately,” you whined into the phone before hearing a small chuckle from the receiver. “Don’t laugh, you know he likes to parade around in some strange outfits,” you were met with another light giggle. 

 “Alright, love. I’ll make sure Roger is dressed to the nines for dinner.”

 “Well it’s not that fancy. Just no jeans or weird hats, you know?” you were well aware of Roger’s unique style and the last thing you wanted was for him to show up under dressed and not be allowed in the restaurant.

 “Got it. No jeans. No weird hats. I’ll tell him, even though he probably won’t listen to me,” a light chuckle followed his words.

 “I’ve got to start getting ready, but I really appreciate it. Thank you so much,” the words fluttered from your lips as you stood up from your seat on the couch.

 “Anytime, Y/n. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I look forward to it. Bye Johnny,” your heart fluttered as you hung up the phone. Even though the two of you nearly kissed back in January, neither of you ever fully addressed it. And while your relationship with John definitely changed as a result, no other moments of revelation or direct intimacy occurred afterwards between you two. But that didn’t stop the sheer number of butterflies that filled your gut whenever he entered the room or spoke to you. Something about him drew you in more and more with each call, conversation, or glance. This feeling was unlike any other you’d ever experienced before, even your feelings for Roger felt very different from this. After hanging up the phone, you walked into your bedroom only to find Sally sitting at the foot of your bed.

 “Hi,” she spoke with a wide, mischievous smile and you could tell that she was acting strange for a reason.

 “What did you do and what are you so smiley about?” you inched closer to the bed, catching a glimpse of fabric sprawled out behind her.

 “Well, I know that you’re taking the boys out tonight to celebrate tonight, and I thought I’d get you a little something to wear,” she pulled the mass of fabric out from behind her, revealing a beautiful maroon velvet dress.

 “Oh my god, it’s amazing but you didn’t not need to buy this for me. I have plenty of other dresses that I can wear to dinner tonight,” your hands went up to stroke the smooth fabric as the words flooded from your lips. 

 “Yeah, I know but this dress is guaranteed to get you laid,” Sally quirked an eyebrow at you to gauge your reaction.

 “Sally! I get plenty of action that you very much. And it is definitely not ok to sleep with one of my best friends,” you rushed out as your cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

 “Oh please, we both know that the last time you shagged anyone was three months ago and that guy was a prick. And don’t try to lie and say that you wouldn’t sleep with John if you got the chance. Plus, you can’t use that as defense when you’ve already slept with of your best friends. Roger, remember?” Sally narrowed her eyes as she continued speaking.

 “John is completely different though. I wouldn’t want it to just be sex with him. I want something more,” you flopped down on the bed next to Sally and she placed the dress on your lap. 

 “Well, one step to getting ‘something more’ is to go to dinner tonight and look hot as fuck,” Sally stood up from your bed and closed your bedroom door behind her. You got up and managed to slide the dress on before admiring it in the mirror. The fabric clung to your skin in all the right places, and the low-cut neckline just made you love it even more. It was the perfect mixture between classy and sexy, and you loved it. You pinned a few pieces of hair back, leaving your hair in a half-up half-down style that suited you very well. Sally stood in the kitchen making a cup of tea as you walked out of your room. 

 “Holy shit, I’m amazing,” Sally spoke as she looked you up and down. “I mean, I really am. I have great taste,” you gave Sally a playful smack on the shoulder before settling on the other side of the counter to face her. 

 “This is all too much, right? The hair, the makeup, the dress. It’s just way too much for a simple celebratory dinner,” you felt nervous just thinking about going out with the boys in this outfit.

 “Stop. Right now, stop it. You look incredible and I can guarantee that the guys will think so too. So, go get your ass out of here and go meet up with them,” Sally pushed you towards the door.

 “Ok, fine,” you shrugged on your fur coat and grabbed your purse from the table by the door before turning back to look at Sally. “Thank you for the dress. I love you,” you opened the door and began to step outside.

 “Yeah, yeah. I love you too, now get out,” Sally gave you a smile as you shut the door and headed for the stairs. You waited in the lobby for a few minutes before a car pulled up in front of the building. Brushing past the building doors into the brisk air, the car door opened, revealing John sitting in the backseat.

 “Brian pulled the short straw and is stuck as the designated driver for the evening. And Freddie called the front seat, so I guess you’re stuck back here with me,” John made room for you as you slid onto the seat next to him. 

 “I suppose it could be worse,” you chuckled as Brian began to drive in the direction of Roger’s apartment.   

 “You look really beautiful,” your cheeks flushed as John leaned over and spoke in your ear. “Not that you don’t always look beautiful. I just mean that you look beautiful on top of how beautiful you normally look,” John turned red as he rambled on, and you let out a small giggle.

 “I understand, John,” his shoulders visibly loosened as the words left your lips. “And thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.” The car came to a sudden stop and you felt a rush of cold fill the car as Roger flung the door open. You squeezed yourself over to the middle seat of the back row, making room for Roger to fit. 

 “Thanks, love,” Roger croaked out as he sunk into the car’s cloth seat. His fur coat brushed against yours and you reached over to smooth down the material. “Oh, look at that, we match,” you nodded and faced your attention forward. “You pull it off much better than me though. And that dress is rather lovely,” Roger’s words were loud enough to be heard by everyone, but no one seemed to be paying attention. No one except you and John.

 “Thank you, Roger,” you flashed him a small smile before turning back to John. The car ride to the restaurant was filled with music from the radio, Brian and Freddie loudly discussing what songs should be recorded first, and you and John talking about everything and nothing. That was how most of your conversations with John typically went. They flowed so easily as you went from topic to topic. You felt so at ease around him and it was unlike anything you’d ever known before.   

 “Alright, we’re here,” Brian called out from the front seat as he pulled into a parking spot. All five of you piled out of the car, walking in the direction of the main entrance. Brian opened the door for you all as you walked inside. The hostess began gathering menus for you as the group’s table was being prepared.

 “This place looks very nice, Y/n. Well done,” Freddie gave your hand a little squeeze before the hostess led you all back to your table. The table was located in the back of the restaurant, away from the crowded front. It was much quieter and more intimate than the rest of the restaurant. You sat in between Roger and John around the round table, looking over the menu in your hand. The waiter brought a round of drinks before taking everyone’s order and walking away. 

 “A toast,” you raised your glass, catching the attention of the others. “To a record deal and proper management, but more importantly, to the future of Queen,” the boys followed suit and raised their own glasses. 

 “To Queen,” they all spoke before sipping at their drinks. The boys began to gush about new music and recording in a decent studio. The food came out and everyone began to dig in, savoring the delicious food.

 “You really don’t have to pay for all of us, Y/n,” John said lowly after everyone finished eating and the bill was brought to the table. The rest of the boys chimed in, agreeing with John as they pulled out their wallets. 

 “No, no. I invited you all out tonight. This is a celebration for all of you. All I ask is that you don’t forget me when your famous,” you scanned everyone’s face as they chuckled at your words. After laying out enough money for the meal on the table, the five of you all got up to leave. John’s arm looped into yours, directing you towards the exit as a smile graced your lips. 

 Roger walked behind you, noticing the closeness you and John displayed. His heart ached as his eyes trailed down to your interwoven arms. He hated, absolutely hated the way it made him feel. But the worst thing that Roger felt as he watched you grow closer with John over the months was the feeling of helplessness. He knew in his heart that there was nothing he could do to stop you from falling for John. Maybe he could have a few years ago if he had just toughened up and made a move, but no. Instead he chose to be selfish and dumb. He let you, the best thing that ever happened to him, slip away and fall into the arms of his close friend. Roger tried to move on, to let you be happy with who you wanted to be with. To let you choose your own path. But an underlying sensation of jealousy always got in the way. And he knew that as much as he acted like he was over you; Roger would never be able to move on from the way you made him feel. There was only one girl for Roger, he just realized it too late.  

 The drive to the club was short and energetic as you all prepared yourselves for such an animated environment. Freddie was especially excited to relive the energy and passion that flowed through him at nightclubs. Roger helped you out of the car as you tried to slide across the seat. John followed right behind you and watched as you stepped up onto the curb in front of the entranceway. 

 “Wow,” the words left Roger’s lips as he looked towards the long line of people waiting along the building. “I’d hate to ruin the fun sweetheart, but there’s no way we’re getting in here,” Roger looked at you smugly before you brushed past him and walked straight up to the bouncer. 

 “Hello, my name’s Y/n L/n. I should be on the list with four guests,” you pulled your purse further up your arm as the bouncer glanced down at the list in front of him. After a few seconds of flipping through the pages, he pointed at a name on the list in his hands.

“There you are, come on in,” the bouncer opened the velvet rope to the entrance, and you turned back to look at the boys. Roger looked completely dumbfounded as the other three smirked and followed you inside. With deflated shoulders, Roger walked in behind you and immediately stopped, eyeing the sea of people and flashing lights that filled the room. You led them over to a reserved VIP area that was roped off from the rest of the club. After sitting down and ordering a few drinks, Roger came up beside you.

 “How did you… the club… the VIP… how?” he stumbled over his words, clearly impressed but also overwhelmed by the fact that you managed to get into to an exclusive club so easily.

 “I never reveal my secrets, Rog,” you crossed your legs as a waiter handed you your drink. Roger sulked away, pulling his coat off and laying it on the sofa. 

 “You’re not going to tell him that your coworker’s brother owns this place?” Brain scooted closer to you with a glass of water in his hand.

 “Where’s the fun in that?” Brian snorted at you before taking a sip from his glass. You eyed all of them, sitting lamely in a circle around the VIP area. “Alright,” you stood up, slapping your hands against your knees. “This is a club. A place to let loose, enjoy yourself, and have fun. But you four are just sitting around like a bunch of losers. So come on, we’re all going dancing,” you ripped the coat off your shoulders before downing your drink, grabbing Brain’s hand and moving towards the dancefloor. The music blared from the overhead speakers, but you could still hear everything that Brian said. 

 “You know, I’m a much better dancer when I’m drunk,” Brian drifted back and forth to the beat of the music, trying to match the pace of your energetic dancing.

 “Oh, live a little, Bri,” your body moved so fluently, feeling every beat from the music overhead. Freddie and John worked their way through the crowd, meeting your dance moves and reciprocating with some of their own. 

 “Wow look at our little Johnny boy. He can really dance,” Freddie called out over the music, admiring Deaky’s cute little head bobs and spins as he moved towards you. John chuckled at Freddie’s comment and continued to dance. Roger reluctantly moved onto the dancefloor, despite the fact that he wasn’t much of a dancer. He usually went to clubs just to meet women and the only reason he agreed to come out tonight was because of you. A frown adorned Roger’s face as he pushed through the bodies of the club goers, trying to find his bandmates and you. And then something stopped him.

 He saw you. Roger was mesmerized by the way you remained perfectly on beat and how you let the music flow through you. The flashing lights above illuminated the shine of your skin and the curves of your figure. It was like everything stopped except for you and the music. The scene before him brought him back to the few times that he caught you playing on his drum set during practice. You were so enveloped by the music, and somehow, Roger never felt closer to you. He broke from his thoughts and began to stumble over to where everyone else was. 

 “Ah, Roger. So nice of you to finally join us,” Brian quipped, still swaying back and forth to the rhythm.

 “Just got a little lost in the crowd,” Roger mumbled, his eyes looking you up and down as you danced. The songs played on throughout the night and everyone’s dancing, except for Brian, got sloppier with the more drinks that were consumed. Eventually, everything had kind of died down, so Freddie, Brian, and Roger went back to the VIP area to take a break. You and John continued dancing in the crowd, but Roger’s gaze never strayed far from you. He almost managed to lose himself in Freddie and Brian’s conversation, but then the song changed pulling him out of it. Roger recognized the tune but couldn’t quite place the name. But the title of the song definitely wasn’t Roger’s main concern at the moment. What drew Roger in was the fact that the song was slower and more sensual than any of the other songs played at the club tonight. Roger’s eyes darted to you and Deaky as the two of you moved closer together.

 The music played loudly from up above and it was hard not to lose yourself within it. You and John gravitated towards each other, letting the surrounding bodies push you closer and closer as you danced. The waves in his hair bounced whenever he did, making you giggle slightly. John noticed and then proceeded to lock eyes with you.

 “What’s so funny, love?” he leaned in as he spoke, but his eyes never faltering from yours. It almost felt like a tether was pulling you towards him with each passing second. Instead of answering John’s question, you let your body fall into his. Your back pressed against his chest as your hips swayed to the beat. John’s movements matched yours while his hands gently snaked around your waist. You could feel his slightly toned chest rub against your bare shoulders. Your ass brushed against his crotch, igniting the way that you craved for more of his touch. The song continued bumping in the background as every thought in your head was emptied and then refilled with John.

 Eventually he flipped you around, your chest pressed flush against him as you both kept on swaying. Your arms circled around his neck as John’s fell right above your bum. You wished, hoped he would move his hands lower. 

 “John,” you whispered, almost out of breath at the feeling that consumed you. The desire, the intimacy, the want for more. “I really...” but you were cut off by the feeling of John’s lips ghosting over yours. His hands moved that extra distance down to your ass and a wave of relief washed over you at the sensation. The two of you began to lean back in, only to be ripped apart by and unwanted grasp.

 “Come on,” Roger let go of your arm after pulling you away and handed you your coat. Brian and Freddie rushed up behind him, struggling to put on their own jackets. You and John stood in place, completely confused as Brian gave you a sympathetic look. “This club is lame, we should all leave,” Roger started marching towards the door and you struggled to put on your coat while everyone followed behind him. Freddie handed John the jacket that he left in the VIP area as you all exited the club. Brian unlocked the car doors and Roger got in first, taking the seat in the middle of the backseat. You shot John a disappointed look, but he seemed far too embarrassed to even look up from the ground. John got in on the left and you took the right before Brian started the engine and began to drive away.

 Roger’s fingers angrily tapped against his leg throughout the entire car ride and it felt as though it would never end. Everyone remained silent and the only noise that filled the car was the light sounds of the radio. In order to distract yourselves from the amassing tension, everyone seemed to be hyper focused in on the music from the radio. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar first few notes that you realized the song from the club had begun to play on the radio. The whole car froze, avoiding any resemblance of recognition of the song. Roger, who you thought was going to start shaking with rage, leaned up over the center console and turned the radio off, leaving the car to once again fill with silence.

Taglist: @retromusicsalad @bohemiansweede @deaconsroger @queen-crue @ohtheseboysilove @queeniesteiins @kemeryyyy @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275 @luvborhap @ziggyminx @deakysmisfire @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @briarrose26 @greatdinosaursalad @queendeakyy

#need your loving tonight #need your loving tonight series #John Deacon #john deacon x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #John deacon imagine #roger taylor imagine #Brian May #freddie mercury #Queen #queen imagine #queen fanfic #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #queen fandom #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #bohemian rhapsody fandom #ben hardy imagine #joe mazzello imagine #ben hardy fanfic #joe mazzello fanfic #gwilym lee #roger taylor series #john deacon series #ben hardy series #joe mazzello series

[dractastic]

Shitty Childhoods Anonymous (a semi-unfinished thing about Sal and Travis)

Sal learned a lot from observation. 

He knew Larry’s favourite colour (it’s green but only certain shades), he knew that Ashley liked blurry photos (something about “long shutter speed”), he knew Todd’s favourite Ninja Turtle (Donatello. But agreed to go as Mikey on Halloween because he got to carry around nunchucks) and as soon as Travis bailed he knew exactly where he’d be. 

It wasn’t that difficult. After ruling out his bedroom as an option and taking into account the fact that he most definitely was not in his closet (where he probably would be if he weren’t in Sal’s house, the closet is Shitty Childhood Headquarters), there was only really one place left.

It had taken some effort to finally get Travis comfortable being in his house. There was a long talk on the phone about reaching out and being allowed to get out of dangerous situations. Something about not being weak. Something about feeling guilty about leaving his dad. Something something.

After a good two weeks (and one shaky one after Travis told him to “fucking drop it”) he got a phone call. 

It wasn’t all that clear, a little distant and hard to make out and quite obviously coming from a payphone. After a second of fumbling and quiet swearing he heard Travis from the other end of the line say meekly “Can I take you up on that offer?”

And Sal told him his address and stood outside for nearly twenty minutes until he saw the too small looking Travis shaped figure walking down the path.

He wasn't quite huddled against himself like Sal had expected. He carried himself almost exactly the same as he'd seen every other time. He just looked different.

A little tired maybe?

He sat on his couch looking very out of place, wrapped in the blanket from his bed and holding a frozen bag of peas begrudgingly to his eye.

They were quiet for a long time. Sal didn't have anything to say really and Travis wasn't making any conversation. He was grimacing at the carpet, he couldn't tell if it was from pain or the fact that the peas had been at the back of the freezer for three weeks and had been rendered an ice cube.

Sal said, "So…"

Travis said, "Don't."

Good talk.

Sal sat kicking the floor gently. The silence was uncomfortable and he could tell Travis was getting antsy but he didn't really know what to do.

He couldn't ask what happened and he wasn't going to fuss over him because that would make him angry. They couldn't stay silent sitting in the living room because then nothing would happen and his Dad would come home to two kids staring at the coffee table vacantly and then he'd probably worry that they'd taken off with something from the Morrison’s cupboards.

Travis wasn't doing any better, still grumbling at the poor excuse for an ice pack. 

Gizmo meowed as he walked in. Or rather, made a Gizmo-esque sound. Gizmo didn't really meow. Or make much noise, in general, come to think of it. He jumped on the couch, neither noticing nor caring who was there and settled himself next to Travis's thigh.

He put a hand on his back absently.

"Are you alright?" Sal asked without really thinking. He was grappling at his sleeves at some attempt to keep his train of thought from spiralling off.

"The fuck do you think?" Travis said, gaze still focused on his feet.

"You're allowed to tell me." 

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then don't. But you shouldn't have to stew in it, you're safe here."

"You sound like an after-school anti-bullying special," he huffed and rolled his eyes, looking up at him from the couch. It sounded like it could have been lighthearted but it lacked all tone that made it a joke.

"I don't try to." Sal was smiling at him meekly but it lacked all facial expression that made it a smile.

He huffed again and returned his gaze back to the floor, taking the bag off his eye and dumping it on the coffee table.

"It'll bruise," Sal warned.

"Yeah, no shit." Travis crinkled his nose at him.

Sal pulled a face, "You're fine with that?"

He didn't say anything, if it weren't for his shoulders slumping, he would have been certain he didn't hear him.

"Travis-"

He looked at him again. Sal couldn't really place his expression. Half grumbly but hidden mostly on account of how disinterested he looked.

And then he stood up.

And stormed off.

Sal left it for a good minute or two, holding his hand out for Gizmo to squish his face against and taking the peas back to the freezer before it melted all over their table.

When he felt like he'd given it enough he stood up and followed where he saw Travis go, then followed his gut the rest of the way.

"Hey, sorry, I can leave if you're not comfortable," he said, knocking on the wall to make sure Travis heard.

He thought that maybe given it wasn't his house he wouldn't be that inclined, but Sal did indeed find him sitting on the side of the bathtub 

He glared at him on the way in, his arms tightening around his stomach.

“Fuck off Sally Face,” he spat. Or tried to. It had no venom behind it, he just sounded annoyed.

“Travis, I swear I’m not trying to pressure you into talking to me,” God knows he knew what that felt like, “And I’m not here to make some spiel about how morally you shouldn’t let yourself stay in pain or whatever, I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Condescending is what you’re being, actually,” he sounded like he was starting to get his bearings “Oh, whatever will I do without Sally here to look after me? What’ll happen to my poor, helpless, defenceless self? Fuck you, I’ve dealt with worse.”

That last sentence threw him off for a moment. Sure, he guessed as much but… “You shouldn’t have to, though.”

“And yet I am. Funny how the world works like that.”

Sal settled himself against the wall. Travis hadn’t told him to get out yet so he guessed they had a long conversation ahead of them.

It wouldn’t be the first. Travis was still slightly on edge and tended to fall back into old habits whenever he was uncomfortable. Sal guessed it was because he sensed a fight, if only faintly.

He got the same kind of thing around dogs.

Travis sighed and hunched over, gaze fixed on the tiles next to his feet.

“I hate my fucking Dad,” he grumbled, Sal guessed mostly to himself. He grabbed the bottom of his jumper and balled it into a fist, raising his hand almost like he wanted to punch something, then letting it fall back to his lap when he realised he had no steam.

“I just… I just want-” it fizzled out as soon as it left his mouth. He paused for a moment, scowling, but still couldn’t find what he wanted to say.

“I get it,” well, to an extent. He had his fair share of shitty dad based situations “Or… I understand what you’re feeling.”

“Don’t compare your shit to mine.” Travis glared up at him.

“I know. It’s different. It’s really different. But I’ve dealt with this kind of emotional bullshit before, I get what it feels like.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I be draped on a couch while you hold a clipboard and tell me I’m gay because my favourite colour is purple? Who made you the fucking expert?” He almost laughed in disbelief. At least his facial expression changed from just plain or scowling. The worried creases in his forehead were gone and instead, he just looked mildly shocked.

“You tend to pick up on things when you spend half your childhood in therapy.”

Travis groaned and returned his gaze to the floor.

There was a good two minutes of silence. It was quiet enough that Sal swore he heard Travis grinding his teeth, even though he knew that was almost definitely an overactive imagination.

He took a deep breath and Sal glanced up at him, not quite prepared for a soul wrenching confession or for him to tell him to get out, but prepared for something.

“I’m this close to leaving, I swear,” Travis sighed, kicking his heel against the side of the bathtub, “One more fuck up and I’m done. Gone.”

“I could worm you into Larry’s house,” Sal shrugged, only half joking.

“He’d kill me,” Travis gave a halfhearted chuckle.

“Nah, he wouldn’t.” He’d make sure he wouldn’t. They were on their sixth go-round of why Travis was actually a genuinely good person and personal growth and shit.

“It’s just…” He sighed, defeated “So fucking scary.”

“Larry?”

“No, dipshit. Leaving,” Travis glared at him again. He took a deep breath and untensed just a little. He was slipping out of defence mode. Sal was still making sure not to set him off though, because that would be a shitty thing to do to a friend and also because he wasn’t entirely out of it yet “It’s so…”

“Real?” Sal asked.

“Confronting,” he replied “Such a big fucking leap. I’ve been there since I was a kid and I’m leaving literally everything I own and he’s-”

His voice cracked and he stopped,swallowing heavily. When he spoke again it was shaky, “He’s still my Dad.”

Shit, he was crying. Sal wasn’t sure if he should… Pat his shoulder or something? Get him some tissues? He didn’t know Travis’s boundaries.

He resigned himself to loosening and sitting on the floor, open body language and all that. If he was comfortable Travis could do what he wanted next.

He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, swearing quietly. He didn’t like crying in front of people, that much was obvious.

“I hate him. I hate him so fucking much but he’s… He’s my dad,” He was mumbling through his arms.

Sal didn’t mention it.

“And he’s not meant to treat you like that,” He said. Huge fucking understatement, but still.

“I know,” Travis mumbled back, quieter, “I know…”

Sal stood up and held out his hand. Travis looked up at him blearily, confused at first.

Slowly Travis reached out, taking Sal’s hand weakly.

And Sal took him back out to the living room, where Gizmo was waiting for him.

#sally face #sal fisher #travis phelps #My fic #sally face fanfiction

[gxthicwxrm]

Dead Roses Still Blossom Chapter One.

Chapter One

I walk down the old hallways, goosebumps react as the temperatures seem to drop, chilling the sweat lingering on the back of my neck, the oversized men’s white undershirt brushes against my bare knees. I pass door after door, wandering for what feels like years. These halls are endless. I pass a maid who tsks and shakes her head as she sees me.

“I still can’t get the stains out of the sheets, deary. Oh, that poor shirt. You’ll find your purpose soon.” She says the last part in a whispered hushed tone like she wasn’t allowed to say it. I look at her with concern. Stains? I scratch the back of my neck then fiddle with the edges of my shirt. As I look down at my shirt, red catches my eyes. Various shades of red over my sides and the edges of my tee. Her eyes became wide-eyed.

“What hap-happened t-to m-me?” I stuttered out as my eyes sting and my lip trembles. My whole body is shaking rabidly. Why am I covered in blood? My chest feels like it will explode, the room slowly spins as I move to grab her arms. That’s when I see it. A deep, bloody gash running up my arm. Bruises are bloated over both my arms in variations of purples and reds. My thighs are covered as well. I look back at her, but she is looking behind me, a scared expression resting on her face. I go to look behind me but my vision is blurred. Black spots pepper my sight as my head pounds. What happened to me? I think as I feel the world falls from underneath me. Before I fully pass out, I feel two strong, cold arms wrap around my waist.

_______________________

“Her poor soul.” A raspy female voice says. ‘She’s too beautiful to be stuck here.”

“What happened?” An accented male voice asks. I feel an arm under my head and my knees as whoever carries my walks. I hear a door click open. I struggle to open my eyes. They won't budge.

“Well, she fainted, Sir.” Another soft female voice breathes out. My mouth won't open either. What’s going on?

“I can see that Mrs. Evers. Why is she covered in bloody clothes?” The accented man growls. I hear the door clicked shut then I am being lower. My limp body is surrounded by cushioning. Soft, silky comfort. I try to move but my body won't comply.

“ She came here covered in bruises. She was skittish and quiet. A man followed up with her. He left that night. Sally said she was a prostitute, so we left her alone. But Mrs. Evers found he-” Adrian. Yes, he was here. I can vaguely remember him. Why was he here?

“She was covered in blood, the whole bed, Sir. She was bleeding everywhere and I cleaned it up. Took forever, still can’t get blood out of those sheets.” The soft voice assumed to be Mrs. Evers, interrupted the raspy one.

“We think that man killed her. She won’t remember how or what happened right now. She’ll need a day or two.” The raspy voice sounded irritated.

“Thank you, Liz. You two should go now.” I assume they left, I passed back out before I heard the door click.

____________________________________

The first thing I feel once I wake up is the soft comforter, then the cold silk sheets and pillowcases. Instead of opening my eyes, I curled further into the bed. I fade off to sleep. As sleep takes over, a piercing scream shoots through the air, jolting me up. I frantically look around the vintage-styled hotel room. Tan flooring, white comforter, blood-red silk bedding, brown walls. I look down to see me no longer in the bloodied t-shirt. I’m wearing a black undershirt, dark grey men’s boxers, and socks. I’m not covered in blood anymore. My gashes are stitched up, healing. The bruises are still there. The screaming happens again, this time louder and longer. I jump out of the bed and slowly go to the door.

As I pass the opening to what I assume is the dining room, I see a tall man with dark hair, shirtless and covered in blood wielding a knife. A man lays on the floor, screaming, blood pours from his thigh and stomach. He sees me, wide eyes, silently pleading for help. I shake my head rapidly while my trembling hand goes to my lips, one finger signaling to be quiet.

He starts to open his mouth as I click the door open. The dark-haired man turns, a sadistic smile on his face which vanishes as he sees me. Shakes rake through my body as adrenaline rushes into my veins. He takes a step towards me. Quickly, I throw the door open and run out. Pounding fills my ears as my ankles ache. I scream for help. I race to the end of the hallways, then down the stairs into the hotel lobby.

There’s an older heavy set woman with a tall bald woman dressed in a green gown behind the front desk. I could’ve sworn I saw the elder lady shakes her head. I stop at the bottom of the stairs, crazily looking for an exit. I spot the main doors across from me. I run so fast that I tripped over my own feet. Immediately, I drag myself back up and stumble-run the rest of the way. I practically fall on the door, opening it. I see the sidewalk and run to it. In my panic, I didn’t notice I was running down the hallway, at the landing of the stairs. I stop. What? I-I……..I was outside. I think to myself. I take off to door once again. The same sidewalk. I end up in the same hallway, same stairs. As I run to the door once again, the older woman yells something.

“Oh for the love of Christ. STOP! You ain’t going to go anywhere. You’re stuck here.” She says walking up to me, waving her arms around. I stare at her, dumbfounded. She walks over to me and reaches her hand out for mine. Tears sting my eyes as I reach my shaking hand to her. She grabs it, pulling me to the bar. She gestures for me to sit down as the tall woman poured me a shot of vodka.

“Listen, sweets, You’re dead.” She stops at my expression, putting a finger up to signal for me to be quiet. I feel the need to obey her command. “ What's the last you remember?” I sat and thought for a minute. I came here after leaving Adrian, knocked out in his apartment. I called a cab and used his credit card to get a room here.

_________________________________

I was reading a book in my room, Stephen King’s ‘Pet Sematary’, when a knock rang throughout the room. I put the room key in as my bookmark and went to open the door. Before I touched the knob, I glanced in the bathroom mirror. I was wearing a white tee and no underwear. Auburn curls that usually frame my face were pulled into a high ponytail, falling to my mid-back. A cluster of roses is tattooed on my shoulder and thigh. The bright red ink contrasting with my snow-white complexion. Freckles pepper over every inch of my body, primarily my shoulders, and cheeks. My frame is short and slightly chubby. I look away from the mirror and onto the floor where I threw my clothes from my bath off. I quickly grabbed the clean pair and shorts.

Before I could put the shorts on, whoever is out the door knocks on the door again. My brows pulled together. Who the hell is banging on my door? I opened it to see Adrian. He was tall, blonde, brown eyes, built. Tattoos could be seen at the collar of his shirt and wrists. A scar runs down the side of his face, starting at his brow and ending at the corner of his mouth. He shoved me into the room. I scramble to the nearest chair.

“Where’s my fucking money, you whore?” He throws the chair away from me, smashing

his boot into my wrist. He pulls a gun from the back of his pants, leaning down to me and places the gun to my temple.

“I’mma ask one more fucking time and only one more time. Where. The. Fucking. Hell. Is. My. Money, you dumb trashy bimbo.?” He grabs my chin. I spat in his face, slamming my knee into his junk. He drops his gun and leans over. I shove him off of me, reaching for the gun that slid across the floor. As I reach for it, my ankle gets grabbed. Suddenly, I’m being pulled and a knife is over my throat. He removes the knife and switches it with his hand. He slashes his blade down my upper arm twice. I scream out as white-hot pain radiates from my arm to my fingertips.

“Wanna do something like that again? Huh? Where’s the money?” He puts his mouth against my ear, snarling. I whimper as he presses down on the cut.

“Under the bathroom sink. Please don't kill me.” I cry out. He grabs my ginger hair and slams my face into the flooring. I scream out, rolling onto my back while clutching my nose as he gets off of me. He dashes to the bathroom. I look around for the gun, seeing it halfway under the bed. He never was bright when it came to high-pressure situations. I pull myself over to it as he searches for the money that wasn’t there, to begin with. It was under the mattress in a pillowcase. I lean on the bed, holding the gun towards the bathroom doorway.

He walks out, fury burning in his eyes, a sneer on his face. He sees the trembling gun and bursts out laughing. “You think you can shoot me? Bitch, you don’t have the guts. That’s why I took you when I wanted, why every guy smacked your ass around. You don’t do shit but take it or freeze. You are just a cu-” I pulled the trigger.

Click.

Click.

Click.

I looked down to see the safety was on. By the time I looked back up, hot searing pain pricked at my stomach then happened again. I looked down to see two wounds, one with a knife and one without. He shoved his head into mine. Pounding deafens me as he laughs and begins beating me. Jabs and kicks come for what feels like forever. I refuse to say anything about the money, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Screaming and talking felt i'm possible. The air was knocked out of me each time I could almost catch it. I blacked out before he left, but before I faded away I saw in the wide-open doorway, A dark-haired man standing beside a frail-looking maid. Then the lights went out.

___________________________________

The air stilled, the world stopped spinning. Something in me snapped, pain blossomed from my chest like a poisoned dark rose. The thorns of the realization of my loss of life ripped through the soil of my sanity. I’m dead.

“W-why can’t I l-leave? Why am I s-stuck in this place?” I whisper, my voice shaking. A girl in a cheetah print coat with frizzy blonde hair sits beside me. She chuckles darkly as she pulls out a cigarette from the pack, lighting it.

“Baby, tell me when you find out. I’d love to leave this damned place. I’m Sally. You?” She rested her elbow on the table than her head on her fist, staring at me. I hunch over, helplessly. She smiles, softly.

“Lilith. I’m Lilith.” I give in. She nods softly with a wide smile. She pats my back causing me to flinch away. If she noticed, she didn’t show it. I grab the shot of vodka and chug it.

“ Names Liz, That’s Iris.” The bald lady points to the older lady beside herself, Iris waves.

“Give me the bottle.” Liz looks shocked but nods, handing me the bottle. I take a large swing, savoring the burn. 

#AHS #ahs smut #ahs murder house #ahs imagine #james patrick march #james march imagine #james march smut #tate langdon fanfic #tate langdon imagine #Jimmy darling #jimmy darling imagine #jimmy darling smut #kit walker imagine #kit walker fanfic #kit walker smut #kyle spencer #kai anderson imagine #kai anderson imagines #michael langdon imagines

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 10)

This was one of my favorite sequences in the old picture story, so naturally I had to use it in the written fic, too. Enjoy!

Afternoon of Thursday, November 18, 2038

The sound of the doorbell was a jingle Daniel didn’t recognize. Him being an android, he could have looked it up online in no time at all. Him being a deviant, however, meant that Daniel would simply ask about it when the opportunity arose.

From inside the telltale sound of a door unlocking remotely as well as what might pass as a greeting arose:

“Come in! Door’s open now!”

Tentatively Daniel turned the door knob, then took the first few steps into the apartment, where he was greeted by a cacophony of animal noises. One species of animal, precisely, and their sounds weren’t aimed at the guest either, but self-contained:

“Meow!! Meow? Meeeeeeeeeeeow!”

The android quickly closed the door behind him. He was now standing in a floor between two doors. To the right another door seemed to lead into the bathroom. One wall sported the expected array of clothes hooks, knickknack-shelves and decaying paste-it notes, but the opposite one was lined with dis-and then re-assembled parts of cat-condos that formed an adventure park for felines. To the floor’s far end to the left a curtain covered a doorway. At the moment that curtain’s brim was of utmost interest to a tiny kitten. The animal was all but lost inside the fabric. Unable to see its family, it produced regular, high-pitched control calls. To the deviant they sounded both cute and enervating, in fact, the little thing didn’t sound that much different from Connor…

Daniel carefully scanned his surroundings before taking another step into the apartment. He spotted two more young kittens and an older one. That last one was a dirty shade of black and his somewhat longer fur suggested that this or that pedigree cat numbered among his ancestors. The black adolescent moved between the little ones like a dreadnought. It seemed to substitute for the others’ parent, because it was both answering their control-calls and in turn sending some of his own.

Pad, pad… Meow? … Pad, pad, sudden jump, Meow!!! Hiss! … Ming? Ming-Ming?- Mä��hh!

“Oh my god, what’s that?” Daniel exclaimed. “A Crazy Cat Lady Starter Kit?”

“Hehe!”

From behind the curtain the apartment’s inhabitant appeared, a wide smile on his face. Daniel hadn’t known that this particular human was even able to smile, instead of grinning, sneering or winking, preferably with both eyes closed. Gavin Reed at home was looking so utterly… relaxed, that it was hard to believe.

The human plucked the stuck kitten - it turned out to be a standard brown tabby - from the curtain and placed it at about waist-height onto the climbing range. Then he held out one finger towards another kitten, a little tricolor, testing whether that one maybe wanted a quick petting? Turned out it didn’t, but further probing brought to light that the Calico wasn’t averse to the idea, just neutral towards it, so Gavin went over it’s fur twice and then stopped. Daniel’s jaw dropped at the sight, because it was more consideration for another living being’s feelings then he had ever seen Reed display.

To say anything at all, the android produced a weak “Are they all yours?”.

“Nah, just one of them. But the little buggers take their time to decide which one that’ll be.”

“They do – what? I didn’t know cats came in trial packs!” Daniel exclaimed.

“Heh, that’s one way to put it! The upstairs neighbors left six kittens behind when they moved. Five of those I managed to find homes for, then took in three more that got abandoned when their owners fled the city… they’re always rotating in and out, even before the evacuation order.”

Turning away from the android, Gavin allowed an orange tabby to taste-test the sleeve of his sweater. The kitten proceeded to roll over and plug all four of its paws into the man’s forearm with abandon. Gently Gavin moved his arm away from the cat-condo – the kitten remained stuck to it like a sloth to a jungle tree. With a proud grin the detective presented his “catch” to Daniel.

“Here, look at that! As if glued on! Isn’t it the cutest?”

Truth be told, Daniel could imagine a whole lot of more pleasant things than getting the skin on your arm slowly turned into stripes and he didn’t even have a real skin. But he kept his silence, afraid to carelessly destroy something precious again.

“The calico is Salazar”, Gavin introduced his collection, “but it turned out “he” is really a Sally. The dark grey one is Argus, the tabby is Minerva and the one in prison clothes is Stopthat, I mean Godric.”

His eyes closed, Godric took a hearty bite of Gavin’s sweater…

“So you want to keep only one, check”, Daniel spoke up again. “But you certainly must have a favorite?”

“That’s not how cats work!” Gavin protested against this outlandish idea. “They aren’t t-shirts that you pick by color preference. A cat either lays claim on you or it doesn’t.”

Daniel shook his head.  “Strange”, he admitted. “Caroline always said a cat was bound to the place where it lives, not to a particular person. Not loyal like dogs. That’s why I was never interested in cats.”

“I didn’t expect you to understand!“

And there the normal Gavin Reed was again, the standoffish one, the self-proposed center of the world, the know-it-all-can-do-everything, the only being whose feelings mattered. In a way the returned persona was less intimidating, because by now Daniel had gotten used to it. Asshole Reed offered familiar territory, whereas the whole cat-mysticism Daniel wasn’t sure what to think about.

With a nod Gavin ushered Daniel into the room opposite the apartment door. It turned out to be a live-in kitchen. The dining table was unused, or rather not used for it’s original purpose to comfortably let six persons eat. Stuff was piled onto the surface and the chairs: empty feeding bowls, a half-opened parcel, document folders with bookmarks sticking out, a small model or toy helicopter, a tablet connected to a cable that was running across the room… There was a smaller table next to a loveseat in the corner and, predictably, an expensive coffee machine with a grinder dominated the kitchen counters next to the seating arrangement. Above the monstrous thing shelves holding more coffee-related equipment than Daniel recognized lined the wall. Most of the stuff the android had seen so far in this flat had been of high quality and, although in general disarray, kept clean. The detective seemed to make the best of his pay cheque, not bothering to set aside much for an uncertain future. When not confronted with an android or Lt. Anderson, this man, Daniel now realized, lived to the fullest. The Connors were threatening this eternal-present bliss, they had made Gavin painfully aware of his irresponsible spending habits as well as the fact that he was approaching the age of forty.

Right to the entrance a terrarium was housing a kingdom of mice. “And here’s the mice I promised”, Gavin said, accompanied by a casual wave with the arm Godric wasn’t attached to. The kitten had gotten bored of playing sloth anyway and was now attempting to climb up all the way to Gavin’s shoulder. “Skim off as many as you like. They breed like… actually breeding is all they ever do. They’re like landbound guppys!”

“You like cats”, Daniel started. “Don’t tell me you keep the mice for…!”

Gavin grabbed Godric, who had come dangerously close to taking a nap in his sweater’s hood, and put him onto the kitchen floor.

“That’s absolutely correct”, the man said. “I won’t tell you. But I will share a trick for getting along better with people with you, tinman: Never ask questions you do not want answered!”

“Damn you, why, detective!” Daniel hissed.

Yes, why exactly? Why do I bother removing obstacles in front of somebody else, and an android, no less?

Of all the shortcomings of Gavin Reed, one thing he was not: unable to express his feelings. To the contrary, the world in general and the DPD specifically could have done with less of those. If he was angry or desiring something, the man always let the source of those notions know it. And if Gavin was interested in a guy, chances were he’d walk up to him and declare “You’re mine now” in only slightly more sophisticated words. No beating around the bush, no making excuses.

But this case was different. Being interested in an android? That just couldn’t be. Even casually hanging out with one had always been unimaginable. Because, after all, like the coffee grinder, an android was just a mobile attachment to another appliance, not something you chatted with over your brew! But here he was, helping Daniel to new pets and casually chatting him up like one did a co-worker or apartment neighbor.

Irritated by all the strange, conflicting notions Gavin snapped at the PL600:

“Because I don’t like losing something I’ve already invested into. Unlike Connor or Markus you’re still functioning as intended, despite having caught deviance. I appreciate that in a household device.”

Gavin took a step closer to the android. He looked up into his grey eyes with the blueish tint. Gavin’s own were grey, too, but the tint was green.

Why am thinking of its eye color all of a sudden? Why did I even NOTICE it? Ah, right - noticing details is just part of my job, nothing strange or worrisome!

“Hear that, Cyberlife?” Gavin barked. “I KNOW there’s nothing listening behind this mask! It’s just a simulation to make us grow attached to your products, and to fucking grow dependent on them! But there is nothing to talk to in there, except maybe customer service, so take this as a product review!”

“No, I meant why are you feeding the poor mice to… Hey, stop that!”

Going “kekekekekeke” Godric was climbing up Daniel’s leg.

“Yes, that’s him”, Gavin commented dryly.

“Aptly named”, Daniel laughed. He steadied the kitten during its ascend and eventually enfolded it with both hands when it had reached chest height.

“You want a mouse, huh? Or don’t you rather want cuddles?”

“Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”, Godric went.

“See? You wanted cuddles. You just didn’t know. Little killer, you!”

Daniel smiled. All of a sudden cats had become easy! They were not the unfathomable anti-dogs the Phillips family had painted them, not, they were just creatures following their own set of rules. Once you figured out those rules, the little furballs were astonishingly endearing. Suddenly Daniel’s legs gave way. The android realized too late that planning to visit an Android Zone for checkup didn’t equal to actually doing it. After the phantom-headaches had subsided, he’d staved off the idea over and over. But how could he have known beforehand that a kitten would use him as a play tower in here?

Daniel tried to reach a kitchen chair, but it was too late already. He went down rather undignifiedly and stared into the ceiling lamp - as well as into Gavin Reed’s shocked expression.

“WTF, you cannot just die in my flat! They’ll think I did it!”

“I’ll make sure to write It wasn’t Gavin on the wall in blue blood. Wh… what’s that crawling into my shirt?! Stop that!”

“Yeah, of course. Who else?”

“What are you calling him when you want him to literally stop with something?”

“Usually I scream something along the lines of “Ouch” and he gets the picture from the volume. But basically you wait till he grows too large for most of his shenanigans.”

“Okay”, Daniel moaned. “Good advice. I guess I’ll just keep lying here until one of you has matured enough to talk to.”

Any other android would have been dead after daring to give the detective cheek like that. Less alive than usual, Gavin corrected himself. As for Daniel, he was right now discovering a third option between unconditional family bliss and searing hatred in relating to humans: Disbelieving fascination. And also kittens.

Five minutes later…

“Are you done rolling on my floor now?”

Lying on his back and holding up the kitten with both hands, gently rocking him, Daniel replied:

“Are we done rolling on the detective’s dirty floor, Godric? Aaaaare we done rolling on the big bad cop’s floor?”

“My foot’s right next to your skull, you know.”

“But you won’t kick as long as I’m holding Godric.”

“Spoken like a true kidnapper.”

“I don’t see Godric care.“

The cat indeed didn’t care whether this man who was providing the cuddles was saint or villain, human or android, rich or poor. All it wanted was… Shred Daniel’s colorful headband, actually. The android had purchased one right after the encounter at the playground, so fulfill his parole condition of wearing a LED while still keeping the humiliating thing out of everyone’s sight. Upon command or when meeting his social worker, he could just lift the headband.

Daniel rose into sitting position, still playing with the kitten.

“Say, how much space would he need when he’s fully grown?”

“What?! Give him back at once! You aren’t satisfied before you’ve taken everything from us, are you?”

Daniel looked down, staring at the sudden kitten-shaped hole in his life. But wasn’t that what he was always getting? Whether it was a challenge or a living being, loss either way. His life, his family, Emma and Little Connor… he was growing apart from the Rasoya… Neil had been a one-time encounter… All Daniel had left was his strange acquaintance with Gavin, who was ranting at him:

“I told you about cats choosing their owner and now you’re trying to simulate that! But it’s not real! Just a goddamn chat program mimicking life!”

“You know what? You’re sort of right.” The android rose and straightened. “I overreacted.”

To the sight of Godric toddling towards the feed dispenser, where Sally and Minerva were already taking turns getting out pellets, Daniel mused out loud that he bonded to animals way too easily.

“…but then they die on you or worse, you have to put them to the gun because they become aggressive towards you. And with each one you lose, a part of yourself dies, too. So the sensible thing to do would be to avoid animals. But when you don’t have any around at all, you don’t really live. There’s no winning this game…”

“You had to put down your rat? Must have sucked.”

“It did! I wish I could unmake it somehow… Although I wouldn’t go as far as to call John a rat.”

“Wait, what, John? John Phillips? But you were talking about animals!”

“Yes, exactly. - Uh, on second thought forget what I said and hand me a paper bag! Your mice are getting out of hand and I’ve got an empty rodent cage to fill.”

They didn’t like to hear it, but Gavin’s people were indeed animals. Just like Daniel’s were machines. But each group had developed deviants within their ranks. Of the apes, it had had occurred in several species, of which only one was still present in 2038. Among the androids deviance happened all across the range of models with none being more disposed towards it than others.

And there they were, the not-quite-animals and the not-quite-machines, beings that were still heavily driven by their instincts or coding, but who had acquired the ability to go beyond and even downright against it. There was a word for them, although the beast-people were still denying it to the machine-people.

The word was “humans”.

(to be continued)

#dbh daniel #dbh gavin #dbh #detroit become human #danielgavinnewstory #sims4danielgavin

[oneblueumbrella]

The Silver Stud pt. 2

For @savvyblunders, who was the most enthusiastic about the continuation of this story. Soon to be on AO3.

{1}

Bloody hell, he was meeting Mycroft for a drink. The thought had dogged Greg all day Friday and a considerable part of the preceding day, too. He’d never thought Mycroft would be interested in him, and then one night the man himself just walks into Greg’s office and announces he’s gay, and by the way he’d quite like a date. Well, more or less.

Either way, Greg would be meeting Mycroft at a pub he’d never heard of, in a part of town he only frequented if someone had managed to get themselves stabbed.

Assuming that would not be the case, Greg was quietly panicking all day. At first he was doing a general ‘I have a date’ panic, which quickly morphed into ‘we’d better not pick up a murder’ panic as the day wore on. He might not get another shot at this, and if Mycroft was in the same state as he was, an excuse might be just the thing he was hoping for in order to cancel this whole event.

Just as Greg was worrying that Mycroft might have someone knifed to specifically to avoid their date, Sally stuck her head in his office door.

“Boss?”

“Yeah?” he answered distractedly.

“It’s five o’clock. Get your arse out of here, will you?” She grinned at him and he returned it as he grabbed his things and bolted. More than once a case had appeared between his office and the tube, and he was not going to be that unlucky sod. Not today.

Greg’s mind wandered all the way home and through his shower-and-a-shave routine. Before he knew it, he was standing in his bedroom wondering what to wear. Pants and socks, he’d managed without too much thought – little chance of Mycroft seeing those tonight.

Dressing for a pub was easy. Dressing for a date, also easy. Dressing for a date in a fancy pub was way beyond his comfort zone. The clock ticked inexorably by as he pulled out and considered almost everything in his wardrobe, despairing at his own lack of interest in clothes.

Finally, when the clock told him he had to get moving, Greg went by his old Academy roommates’ maxim – dress so you feel good. He chose his favourite dark blue shirt and navy blazer, with dark blue jeans. The jeans were made to fit his arse, so he’d been told, and the shirt and blazer combo would get him into all but the swankiest of pubs. If he was rejected from the place Mycroft had chosen, he didn’t belong there anyway. A quick spike of his hair – the silver stood out bright against the last of his holiday tan – and he was ready to go.

The place looked exactly as intimidating as Greg had imagined. No grungy side alleyway, no grotty windows plastered with posters advertising bands. No, the front of this pub screamed money and discretion. Greg wondered if anyone ever asked the barkeep to switch the telly to the football, or ordered the cheapest bourbon sight unseen. Unlikely, he thought, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stared at the tasteful gold lettering proclaiming Quirinus. Sounded like some kind of Roman God or something, Greg thought to himself. Not something he was too familiar with.

“Good evening, Greg,” Mycroft’s voice came from behind him.

“Hi,” Greg said, spinning around hastily.

“I see you found the venue easily enough,” Mycroft said.

“Yeah,” Greg replied, feeling dumb as an ox. Could he say nothing more intelligent? It was probably the sight of Mycroft, as dressed down as Greg had ever seen him.

“You’re not wearing a tie,” Greg said, feeling his cheeks redden at the obvious comment.

“No,” Mycroft allowed. He smoothed one hand over his waistcoat, a deep blue with some kind of tiny crosshatched pattern. The white shirt visible above it was crisp and perfect, and Greg wondered with a jolt whether Mycroft had changed from his work attire for their date. It would certainly bolter his confidence to think so, given the hand wringing that had accompanied his own dressing for this evening.

“You’re staring, Greg,” Mycroft’s voice admonished him gently, and Greg’s cheeks flushed even further.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Never seen you in less than full battle dress.”

Mycroft’s eye brows rose at the description of his usual three piece suit tie and accruements. “I’m usually going into battle,” he replied.

“Not tonight?” Greg asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“It seems not,” Mycroft replied. “Shall we?” he indicated the door, and Greg turned to enter. There was a bouncer, dressed in a suit worth more than anything Greg owned for sure. He eyed Greg before catching sight of Mycroft.

“Good evening, Mr. Holmes,” he said with a slight bow. Greg stared in astonishment as the door was opened for them. Only the gentle pressure of Mycroft’s hand on his lower back reminded him he was expected to walk through the opening.

The bar was exactly as Greg imagined many pubs looked on the day they were built, and then never again. Gold fixtures, deeply polished woodwork, every surface impeccable. The leather seats of the booths were gleaming, and he knew without checking that the floor would not be sticky with the remnants of some long spilled beer.

“May I buy you a drink, Greg?” Mycroft asked as they approached the bar. They had beer on tap, Greg saw with relief – better the safety of a pint than trying to navigate an intimidatingly long wine or spirits list.

“Pint of bitter, thanks Mycroft,” Greg replied. The barman poured their drinks, passing the beer to Greg and a white wine to Mycroft.

“This place is amazing,” Greg said, turning to survey the room. The room was comfortably full without being crowded, and he noticed quite a lot of well-dressed men. All well-dressed men, come to think of it.

“Mycroft,” Greg asked him casually, “is this pub….”

“Similar, yes,” Mycroft replied, leading the way towards a recently available booth. “The tables here are not as sticky, however,” he added as they slid onto opposite bench seats.

“True,” Greg replied. “It’s all very clean, actually.”

“The clientele at this venue are screened rather closely,” Mycroft admitted. “Anyone is free to join, and there is no cost; however only members and their immediate guests are permitted. As you can see,” he swept one arm around the gently pulsing room, “rowdy behaviour is not tolerated.”

“A well behaved gay bar, then,” Greg replied, feeling like the term was a slight oxymoron. His experience had obviously been at the seedy end of the spectrum. He sipped at his beer. “Is this where your group usually meets, then?”

Mycroft flushed at the mention of his social group. “We did initially meet at this bar. I believe it was one of the regulars who proposed it as a way of...”

“Meeting people?” Greg suggested.

“Yes,” Mycroft agreed.

“It can be hard to meet someone,” Greg said. “Anyone, really, around work. Especially when you’re looking to meet another bloke. It always has to be arranged, never seems to just happen.”

“I understand what you mean,” Mycroft said. “Work can be all encompassing.”

Greg wasn’t sure what to say. The last thing he wanted to do was start talking about work. This was meant to be a date, nothing like their previous meetings. Most of them had revolved around Sherlock, another topic he wanted to avoid tonight.

Greg’s mind raced, and he watched Mycroft play with the stem of his wine glass. Those fingers, he thought ruefully. His brain could not possibly find a new topic of conversation while Mycroft’s fingers did such suggestive things to the poor innocent wine glass.

Nope, there was nothing for it. He’d have to respond to the work comment.

“And it’s hardly a topic for conversation,” Greg added, hoping Mycroft would remember what they’d been talking about. “Assuming it’s something I can talk about at all.” He shot an amused glance at Mycroft. “I expect that’s something you can relate to.”

“Indeed,” Mycroft’s response was swift. “Some…men find it hard to accept that it is simply not appropriate for me to discuss my employment.”

“Yeah,” Greg said, his eyes still fixed on the fingers running up and down the slim glass stem. Christ. “I’ve had a few ask for favours. Ever had that happen?”

“Oh yes,” Mycroft agreed. “One odious man asked if I could have his neighbour’s garage demolished so his swimming pool would not be shaded in the summer.”

Greg snorted a laugh, relieved their conversation was moving again. “How charming.”

“Unfortunately this group did not turn out as I had hoped. While there are a few individuals I could potentially enjoy a cordial conversation with, none appealed for a more personal connection.”

“Lucky for me,” Greg said. Mycroft’s blush was adorable, he decided, watching the pale skin flame into a rosy glow.

“My mother remains disappointed,” Mycroft replied.

“As does mine,” Greg told him.

“But you were married.” Mycroft said. Greg could see the slight wince at such a brazen comment slipping out.

“Past tense,” Greg told him. “Clearly my fault for not fulfilling my wife.” The pain of that particular conversation with his mother was still fresh, and their relationship was still strained by her accusations.

An awkward silence fell again, and Greg kicked himself for the bitter words. Neither the time nor the place to start complaining about the ex, you idiot, he berated himself.

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft murmured.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she thinks bi men are incapable of settling down with a woman. Or a man,” he added. Fuck. Also a not-so-good comment. He wanted to focus on Mycroft, not his pathetic past.

Shaking off the melancholy this conversation was bringing on him, Greg sat up and smiled at Mycroft.

“So this is more your speed than The Silver Stud?” Greg asked.

“Definitely.” Mycroft replied immediately. “May I ask what you were doing at that bar?”

“Meeting a mate,” Greg said easily. “I knew Rob before I was married and he’s very much into that kind of scene. I told him I’d meet him wherever he wanted and I think he took that as a challenge.”

“So it is not your usual haunt either,” Mycroft said.

“God, no,” Greg replied. “This place does me just fine. I usually go to the pub around the corner from work, or there’s one nearer home. Kind of like this but less clean. Somewhere you can get a bowl of chips and the football on.”

Mycroft nodded. “Somewhere comfortable.”

“Exactly.” Greg said. “The Silver Stud is a lot of things, but comfortable is not one of them.” He drained the last of his pint, wondering if he should order another. Mycroft’s glass was empty, and he had made no effort to replenish it. Glancing over at Mycroft gave him his answer – the man was looking at his pocket watch. Ready to leave, then. Greg ignored the stab of surprised hurt at the realisation.

Am I boring him?

“Well thanks for the drink, Mycroft. I don’t want to keep you.”

“Of course, Greg. Thank you for meeting me.” Mycroft stood immediately, ever polite as Greg slid from the booth.

“No problem, it’s a great place.”

“I can introduce you to David if you’d like to apply for membership. I would endorse you, of course.”

“Really? Thanks, I’ll think about it.” Greg replied. He didn’t want to intrude on Mycroft’s social space. Nothing worse than having to avoid somewhere in order to avoid someone.

They both stood awkwardly beside the booth. Christ, Greg thought, what the hell am I even doing?

“I’ll call you,” Greg said, then realised, “Actually, I don’t have your number.” It was awkward to ask for Mycroft’s number, he thought – presumptuous. “I’ll see you around.” He hesitated, then added, “I had a great time, Mycroft.”

He smiled briefly, the answering lift of Mycroft’s mouth far more automatic than happy. Greg left the pub, bracing for the cold night air. The date had just…ended, and he wasn’t really sure why. 

Wrapping his arms around himself, Greg started walking home, wondering what Mycroft’s deal was.

#mystrade #bigblueboxat221b #thesilverstud

[enterprisetrampstamp]

what you want

for @sleepymccoy. congrats on the degree!

also posted on ao3

Len drags his feet, letting his tour guide- an enthusiastic young woman whose pips indicate she’s soon to graduate- pull ahead of him. She’s so caught up in her well-rehearsed speech that she doesn’t seem to notice his absence, plowing through the crowded Academy sidewalks with the confidence of seniority as the other cadets part around her.

He should probably feel bad about ditching her; she seems like a perfectly nice girl. Likely to go far in Starfleet, if the obvious respect her peers have for her is any indication.

Len should feel bad, but he doesn’t. As soon as kids start slipping between them, taking advantage of the empty sidewalk she leaves in her wake, he turns smartly on his heel and peels away.

Damned ridiculous, being led around as if he’s never been here before. Just because he graduated from med school and then joined the ‘fleet doesn’t mean he’s never set foot on the fucking campus. Jim did cajole him over to this side of the country a good handful of times before they fully drifted apart, in those godawful years after the mission ended.

Len shoves his hands in his pockets, hiking his shoulders up to his ears with a huff. “Godawful”, he has no idea where that came from. He didn’t have to deal with alien lifeforms committing murder or stealing bodies or impersonating Chicago mobsters, he wasn’t treating dumbass officers who had no idea how to take care of themselves- just normal, civilian dumbasses- and, of course--he got to see Joanna on a regular basis.

Retirement was- is- a retreat.

The only reason he’s even still in San Francisco, over a month after the successful resolution of the V’ger incident, is that Starfleet won’t let him leave. Conscripted service his fucking--

“Conscripted service my fucking ass,” he announces loudly, and of the cadets nearby, only the youngest look over at him with surprise. The others, like college students everywhere, have long since been inured to the weird shit that comes out of people’s mouths on campus.

Len cranes his neck, shading his eyes form the sun as he tries to read the stupidly intricate script of the letters on the stupidly tall facade of the nearest building. He figures his tour guide must have noticed by now that she lost him, and he draws quite a bit of attention, being dressed in civvies and also forty-odd years older than the cadets on either side of him; he needs to get off the street.

It’s either an astronomy building, he decides, or they slapped Sally Ride’s name on something random.

With a furtive glance back the way he came, Len takes the steps two at a time as he tugs off his scarf. The blast of heat is unpleasant when he presses through the heavy, wooden doors--what is it about lecture halls that prevents them from setting their thermostats at anything in between glacial and tropical?

Makes him feel a little nostalgic, actually.

Len grins, rubbing his hands together. Maybe he can find an interesting lecture to sit in on, before the security officer assigned to his case- an exasperated young man named Harvey- tracks him down again. Or maybe--

“Spock,” he blurts, and for a second he thinks he’s just mistakenly shouted at some other Vulcan.

Then the pointy-eared bastard turns, one eyebrow raised, and the cadet he’s speaking to steps neatly to his side, her gaze flicking over Len with a spark of curiosity.

“Dr. McCoy.” Spock inclines his head in greeting as Len drifts closer, his hands folding neatly behind his back.

“Have you taken on a lecture series?” Len asks, and he doesn’t even bother to hide his interest. He’d heard Spock was being offered a captaincy, now that he was re-committed to Starfleet, but neither Nyota nor Jim had breathed a word about this.

Spock ignores him, his dark gaze taking in Len’s civilian clothes with a hint of a frown at the corners of his lips. “Have you not accepted the renewal of your commission?” he asks, voice sharp; the cadet raises an eyebrow as she glances at him sidelong. “Admiral Kirk had implied--”

Len guffaws. “Jim’s still riding the high from having his silver lady back for those few short days. He hasn’t figured out yet that it’s not going to be like old times just because he pulled some strings and got me drafted for one mission. He’s still on desk duty, and I--” He rubs his eyebrow and sighs, his mirth fading as swiftly as it had come. “I still have a life back in Georgia.”

Spock tilts his head. “Yet you have remained in San Francisco.”

Len glances at the still-present cadet- she’s looking back and forth between the two of them with surprisingly visible interest- and offers Spock an uncomfortable shrug. “The admiralty’s pulling out all the stops,” he drawls. “They’re trying to sweeten the deal until I stop saying no, and in the mean time, they’re using every regulation they can to keep me in town.”

Spock nods as if this doesn’t surprise him. “It was a severe oversight to have allowed you to leave Starfleet without protest in the first place,” he states gravely.

Len rocks back on his heels, blinking, but his surprise quickly diffuses into a soft thrum of pleasure. He lets his grin spread across his face and reaches out to brush his fingertips over Spock’s sleeve. “Missed you, too,” he teases.

Before Spock can respond, the door behind them opens and brings with it a blast of sound from the street beyond. Len can hear- faintly, still a good distance off- someone asking, “Have you seen an older guy, kind of an asshole, dressed in civvies--”

Len claps Spock on the shoulder. “Good talk,” he declares, and hurries past them down the hall. He calls back, “Pass my love on to Harv for me, won’t you?”

The last thing he hears, before he’s rounded a corner into a gaggle of bright-eyed first-year cadets, is Spock’s shadow addressing him in Vulcan, her words indecipherable but her tone curious, perhaps even downright fascinated.

Len grins to himself as he re-wraps his scarf. Now, if he were the back exit onto the next street over, where would he be?

       Nyota heaves a dramatic sigh and presses her shoulder against his, and when he lolls his head to look at her- good food, great alcohol, and better company leaving him feeling too pleasantly sluggish to properly lift it from the back of the patio bench- her gaze is fixed on the San Francisco skyline where it spreads out in front of them, glittering in the night.

“I feel like I don’t even know what I want any more,” she tells him. Her voice is softly plaintive, and he straightens just enough to drape his arm across her shoulders, letting his cheek come to rest against the top of her head.

“You want your own command; you always have.” Len rubs her arm with one hand, a sardonic little grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “God only knows why.”

She huffs, and it’s not quite a laugh. Still, he knows his bad joke managed to cheer her up a little, and there’s a smug sort of satisfaction nestled in his chest as he takes another sip of his mint julep.

“It always seemed so far out of reach,” she admits. “Like a pipe dream.”

“And now that it’s almost in front of you, you’re not sure what to do with it.”

Nyota laughs; it’s a sad, anxious little sound. Her fingertips are tracing patterns in the condensation on her bottle of beer. “That obvious?”

“That normal,” he counters, nudging her knee with his. “It happens to all of us, darlin’. Just don’t let your doubts take over and keep you from what you want.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and Len doesn’t bother trying to guess what she’s thinking. Nyota, out of all of them, has always had the easiest time of expressing herself; if he gives her enough time, he’s sure she’ll find the right words.

And she does.

“What if it turns out it’s not what I want at all?” she whispers. She shrinks in on herself, just a bit--ashamed to be having these doubts, or maybe worried he’ll simply dismiss them without a second thought.

She’s a strong woman, Nyota Uhura, and she’s never wanted anyone’s approval of her decisions--but this late at night, in the company of a friend and under the influence of alcohol, even the strongest need reassurance.

Len holds her tighter and turns his glass to study its contents moodily, giving a self-deprecating snort. “Well, I guess you would fulfill your obligations and then move on to what’s next,” he tells her, his voice as quiet as hers. “And whatever you decide it is you actually want, you’ll go and get it, and dazzle us all in the process.”

Nyota huffs, rolling her eyes, and Len smiles even as he tells her softly, “But you can’t know whether or not you really want a command until you try for one.”

She slumps into his side, the tension leaving her all at once. “How’d you get that miserly reputation of yours, Lenny?” she teases. She reaches over to knock her bottle against his glass, a teasing grin playing at the corners of her lips. “You’re just one big softie at heart.”

Len grunts, informing her drily, “Judicious application of hyposprays. Damned near managed to drive even Jim off, way back when.”

Nyota extricates herself from under his arm, shifting in her seat so she can studying the line of his profile, and he can feel himself start to tense under that piercing gaze. “Speaking of Jim,” she begins.

Len winces. “Nyota...”

She ignores the warning in his tone. “What is it you want these days, Dr. McCoy? Because this purgatory you’ve let yourself be trapped in--”

“Let myself--”

She scoffs. “I know you, Len. If you wanted to be back in Georgia already, you wouldn’t have let a bunch of bullshit regs that don’t even really apply to you keep you here. You’d have told Starfleet to shove it and been on the first shuttle back to Meridian, or wherever the hell it is you’re from.”

Len pulls his arm off of the back of the bench, propping his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, staring moodily into his glass once more. “Meridian’s in Mississippi,” he mutters.

“Not the point,” she tells him kindly, rubbing him comfortingly between his shoulder blades. “All your hemming and hawing has finally started to make even Jim nervous, you know. He’s putting up a good front for the rest of the admiralty, but he’s worried you really are going to turn down your commission.”

“Can’t let things go on like this forever, can I?” Len asks, sighing, and tosses back the rest of his drink in one go. He turns the glass over and sets it on the balcony railing before settling back into his seat, chewing on his lip.

She lets him sit in silence for a good five minutes, and then she heaves another sigh. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she orders.

“Spock’s teaching,” he blurts, then blinks. “My god, you’ve already mastered that authoritative voice, haven’t you?”

“I’m doubting whether or not I want a command, not whether or not I’d be good at it,” Nyota teases, and the light scrape of her nails at the back of his neck is comforting as she smiles at him, her dark eyes soft.

“Spock’s teaching?” she asks, leadingly, when he remains quiet for a long moment.

Len drums his fingers on his thighs, shaking his head. “That’s not why... I’ve only known that for a few days. Jim was more focused on waxing poetic about the captaincy they were offering him, and you and I’ve been...” he gestures vaguely.

“Not talking about Starfleet because up until now, I hadn’t managed to get you drunk enough to agree to do so,” Nyota fills in, her voice thick with amusement.

Len barks a laugh. “Jesus. Yeah, alright, I’ve been avoidin’ this conversation.”

“Because you don’t want to let them renew your commission, but you haven’t been willing to break Jim’s heart?” she suggests, though she doesn’t sound like she believes it.

“Because...” Len blows out a breath. “Because I went after what I thought I wanted, and it turned out I was wrong.”

He doesn’t look at her as he steals her beer. It tastes like piss; he genuinely has no idea why she drinks the stuff, but his julep’s gone and he really needs some more alcohol in his system.

“Are you talking about Georgia?” she asks him, and he rubs his hand over his face without answering. She sits back, muttering something in Swahili that he’s sure is something along the lines of “Jesus fuck.”

He stands abruptly, scowling out at the glittering streets of San Francisco. “I never wanted to be on that mission in the first place,” he says fiercely, curling his arms around himself as if he can shield his heart from his own words. “And maybe I enjoyed myself once we were out there, but there was a part of me that was always thinking of the moment I’d get to go home again. I resigned my commission the minute we touched down, stubbornly happy as a clam, and I stayed that way right up until the moment I realized I was walking around dreaming about the day I’d be back on a starship the same way I used to dream about Georgia.”

“Oh, Len,” Nyota says, softly.

He throws his arms wide, a desperate sort of smile on his face. “I have a life, Ny! I have a steady, pleasant job, I have friends, I get to visit Jojo at college every couple Saturdays- more often, if I’m willin’ to play nice with Joss and go same day she does--”

“But you’re not happy.”

He buries his face in his hands. “I’m not happy,” he admits, voice muffled. “And meanwhile Spock is out here shaping the minds of impressionable young officers, with all his ‘logic this’ and ‘Surak that’.”

Nyota, bless her, ignores his bullshit in order to cut straight to the heart of the matter. “You’d be a great professor, Len.”

He huffs, setting one hand on his hip as he takes another swig of her beer, and shoots her a dirty look. “We were talkin’ about you,” he accuses, and she smiles up at him serenely. Somehow, she must’ve left the balcony and grabbed herself another beer without him even noticing.

She sips from the bottle delicately, raising her eyebrows at him. “Sounds like you’ve known what you want for a while now; you just haven’t been willing to admit it.”

Len rubs the bridge of his nose, rocking up onto his toes and then back down. “I’ll talk to Jim in the morning,” he says resignedly. “And you--” he prods a finger at her, narrowing her eyes. “You’re talking to him, too. You know he’ll do whatever he can to get you in the right position to take over a ship sometime in the next five years.”

Nyota salutes him lazily with her beer, a sly twinkle in her eye. “Yessir, Commander McCoy, sir.”

“Jesus.” Len balks. “They’re not going to try and fucking promote me, are they?”

The answering sound of her laughter curls up into the night, bright and loud, and maybe signing his life away to Starfleet is worth it just for that.

      Len wipes his hands on his uniform pants before he knocks, willing himself to be a little less nervous. It’s just Spock for God’s sakes! He’s known the man- Vulcan- for well over a decade now, and they’ve certainly had worse things to say to each other over the years than “Surprise! We’re coworkers again!”

He raps sharply three times, before he can lose his nerve again, and then another two for good measure. Sometimes Spock gets so caught up in something fascinating that he doesn’t even hear--

The door swooshes open. He must not’ve been working, then.

“Doctor,” Spock greets, folding his hands inside his dark blue robes, and Len rocks up onto the balls of his feet and back down, at a loss for words.

“Wanted you to be the first to know,” he finally announces, after the moment drags on just slightly too long. He steps back, making quick work of the buttons of his coat, and then spreads it wide, an obvious invitation for Spock to study his attire. The beige jumpsuit doesn’t feel like home the same way his medical blues used to, but--

He’ll get used to it.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “You have not yet informed Admiral Kirk?”

Len huffs, prodding him in the chest as he shoves past into Spock’s apartment. “Fine; yes, I had to tell Jim, so you’re second. Third, actually, since Nyota’s the one who finally managed to talk me into it, and if you start counting every yeoman with a PADD for me to sign--” He swings to a stop in the middle of the room and sets his hands on his hips, glaring back at Spock. “But you’re the first person I’m choosing to tell, just for the sake of the telling.”

There’s a glitter of amusement in Spock’s eyes as he moves away from the door, letting it finally slide shut. “I am honored.”

“You’re humoring me,” Len accuses. He tilts his chin up, turning on his heel to survey Spock’s living room. “But I’ll allow it,” he adds, a wisp of fondness in his voice as nostalgia rolls over him like a wave.

Late in the five year mission, sometimes he’d show up too early to walk to breakfast together and wait in the main room while Spock finished getting ready. Other times, they’d spend late nights on his Starfleet-issue couch working on reports, debating about any subject under the sun, or simply existing in one another’s presence.

He must have seen Spock’s quarters a hundred times, by the end--and for all that he’s never set foot in this building before today, he’s been in this room before.

The furniture is different and the floorspace greater, leaving the overall effect much more subtle and open, but the general layout, the wall hangings, the books on the shelves, the lyre in the corner--they’re all the same.

“You really haven’t changed a bit,” he murmurs with a small shake of his head.

“I must disagree, Doctor.” Spock counters promptly, moving to join Len in the center of the room. “We are each a sum of our experiences; from moment to moment we are redefined in subtle ways. Our years spent apart have necessarily wrought changes--”

“Spock,” Len interrupts, shoving his hands in his pockets as he smiles up at him. “Trust me; in all the ways that matter, you’re the same person you’ve always been.”

Spock tilts his head. There’s something soft in the lines around his eyes, something that makes Len’s heart constrict in his chest.

“Recent events have been highly effective at revealing my motivations in undertaking the rite of Kolinahr,” he says quietly, apropos of nothing. “I was concerned by the connection I had made to my human side throughout the years of our mission, and I sought to distance myself from it once more. I failed, Doctor; as such, I have finally put to rest my hesitance to embrace the person I became under the influence of your and Jim’s friendship.”

Len swallows hard. “Then you’re saying I’m right,” he says weakly.

“I am saying--”

Spock’s fingers are cool as they curl around the back of Len’s neck, cradling his skull in one large hand.

“--I was wrong,” he murmurs.

Len forgoes the doorbell in favor of knocking, three sharp raps and then two more. Sometimes Spock gets so caught up in his work, or his meditation, that he doesn’t notice someone’s at the door. Len finds it a little endearing, almost despite himself.

It takes over a minute for Spock to summon him, but Len just hooks his fingers in his belt and whistles as he waits. They’re on their way back to Earth--pending a lack of emergencies in the next two weeks, the Enterprise has, for all intents and purposes, completed her mission.

They’re a nice prospect, those quiet two weeks.

Afterwards, he’s going back to Georgia- permanently, so long as he can weather Jim’s puppy dog eyes and come out with his convictions intact- but he hopes... well. Maybe he’ll have some visitors once in a while.

“Spock,” he greets, grinning, when the Vulcan finally appears. He pushes past him into his quarters, almost bouncing with excitement. “Look, I’ve been trying to figure out a good way to say this for almost a week now, and--”

“Doctor.” Spock has not moved from the doorway. “May I inquire as to the nature of your visit?”

Len crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Kind of what I was attempting to get at just now.”

“This is a personal matter,” Spock surmises.

“Sure, of course it is. Spock, I--”

“Doctor, I am in the process of completing the last of the crew evaluations; can this wait?”

Len scratches the back of his head, a rueful tilt to his lips. ”Not really,” he admits. “I may lose my nerve, and we just don’t have that much time left.”

With something that isn’t a sigh, because Vulcans do not sigh, Spock finally joins Len in the middle of the room. “I am listening,” he says. He sounds resigned.

Ignoring the flare of anxiety in his gut, Len plods forward. “Look, Spock, I just wanted you to know that I’ve...” he stares up at those dark eyes and swallows hard. “I’ve come to appreciate your friendship. I may be resigning the ‘fleet, but whenever you’re on Earth, there’s a guest room with your name on it.”

“Doctor--”

“Wait, that’s--” Len holds up his hand. “That’s the chicken shit version, all right? There’s more to it, just give me a moment.” He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, and then releases it all at once. Talking’s probably easier if he’s not watching Spock watch him; he keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Spock, I... I care about you very deeply. I’d like--that is, I understand that this is practically the worst time I could have brought this up, but I’m worried we’ll never get another chance if I don’t. I just--”

He makes a noise of frustration, opening his eyes, and simply yanks Spock down by his uniform shirt to plant one on him. That Spock- with his Vulcan strength- allows himself to be manhandled is promising; that he doesn’t reciprocate the kiss is less so.

Len releases him and steps back, feeling more than a bit foolish. “If you’re interested,” he finishes awkwardly, unable to meet Spock’s eyes.

“I do not believe this to be... wise, Doctor,” Spock says, with a voice that is uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Right.” Len nods, straightening out his med blues. He’s pretty sure his face is about to spontaneously combust. “Well, that guest room’s up for grabs regardless. I’ll... see you around.”

And then he- for lack of a better word- runs.

He barely sees Spock outside of a professional capacity for the remainder of the mission; it’s Nyota who tells him, sounding frustrated and forlorn, about Spock’s decision to undergo Kolinahr.

Len presses up onto his toes as Spock leans down, meeting him in the middle. Spock is warm against him, tall and strong, and his hands are hesitant as they drift over Len’s back, so lightly as to be almost unnoticeable through the thick canvas of his coat. Len’s arms, of their own accord, curl tightly about Spock’s neck, and he clings tightly as he pours himself into the kiss.

When they draw apart, breathing heavily, Len prods Spock firmly in the chest with one finger. “This is not why I came back to Starfleet,” he says, a note of warning in his voice.

Spock’s eyes glitter with amusement. “I am aware, Doctor.”

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to go getting a big head.”

“My cranium is of an average size for a Vulcan of my height and weight.”

Len practically growls, biting back the smile that wants to spread giddily across his face. “You know damn well what I mean, Mr. Spock; so help me God if you decided to get a sense of humor after all these years--”

“Leonard.”

His jaw snaps shut as he stares up at Spock with wide eyes, and the Vulcan has the gall to look pleased with himself as he brings his hands to Len’s shoulders, encouraging his coat to slip from his arms to pool at their feet.

“I am gratified you have chosen to remain with Starfleet,” Spock tells him lightly. “Regardless of your motivations for doing so.”

Len smiles, reaching up to trace the curve of one pointed ear. “I finally figured out what I wanted,” he admits. “Take me to bed, Mr. Spock?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

#it's not precisely what you asked for but I hope you enjoy!!! #spones #spock #leonard mccoy #a tramp stamp original #I wrote this

[agitatogrande]

Trindel Wedding Headcanons

Someone else posted their Trindel wedding headcanons and I thought I’d share my own. There is some debate in Fandom over whether Trindel’s wedding took place in 1979 or 1980, but I’ve chosen to place it in 1979 since May 27th 1980 was a Tuesday and who gets married on a Tuesday night?

Mendel and Trina get married in the little courtyard in Trina's building (I've always imagined Trina to be living in a first floor apartment since she mentions letting a dog out, although she could just be letting the dog out to go shit in the hallway) and have the reception in the apartment since there aren't a ton of guests.

Mendel invites his parents (his aunts and uncles live mostly out of town or have passed away--- that's a headcanon I'll save for another post), his four sisters and their children and significant others. Trina invites her parents, her sister, her brother-in-law, and her niece. Mendel feels bad that he invited so many more people than Trina did, but Trina doesn't really care. Jason is allowed to invite two guests. He invites a friend from his school's chess club but the friend isn't allowed to go because it's a school night. He also invites Whizzer. Trina feels a little weird about that because he and Marvin still have drama, but Jason points out that Marvin's not going to the wedding so Trina lets Jason invite him.

Trina plans to just get married in her nicest dress since she isn't having a big showy wedding that would require a big showy dress, and she obviously doesn't want to wear her first wedding gown. She decides to wear her mother's old wedding gown even though it's a little too short for her and has been in a bag in her mother's closet since 1942. Trina's mother is delighted, and Trina looks great in the dress.

Mendel, in turn, borrows a tux from his own father since the last tux he wore was in the Great Weisenbachfeld Bar Mitzvah Fiasco of February 1958 (in which Mendel's youngest sister Frances, then only about six months old, loudly passed gas throughout the entire service and everyone thought it was Mendel). Mendel's father is not tall, but he's taller than Mendel, and the tux is baggy. Mendel is mortified but Trina doesn't care.

Only two of Mendel's sisters end up showing up to the wedding (the younger ones). Naomi has a bazillion kids and doesn't feel like wrangling them all onto the train, and Helen is one of those people who moved to the East Side and won't go crosstown even for her own brother's wedding. Deborah and Frances show up two hours early and hog the bathroom putting on inappropriate amounts of makeup (they're almost 28 and almost 22 respectively in 1979). Jason goes into the bathroom for a last minute pee five minutes before the wedding and nearly chokes to death on his new step-aunts' hairspray fumes. Needless to say, Deborah and Frances are EXTREMELY prepared for the 1980s.

Their "something old" is Trina's wedding dress, their "something new" is their wedding officiant (the first female rabbi to be ordained in North America), their "something borrowed" is Mendel's tux, and the official wedding yarmulkes are the "something blue."

Trina's niece has horrendous allergies to practically every flower on the planet so instead of flowers decorating the chuppah, Trina borrows Christmas lights from the neighbors.

Jason and Whizzer make the cake. Jason thinks he has it under control because he watches Trina bake all the time, and he kicks Whizzer out until it's decorating time. What they have is an absolutely GORGEOUS cake that tastes like lukewarm garbage. The second Jason's out of the house, Mendel disposes of the cake by tossing it in a dumpster near Riverside Park. Jason is none-the-wiser until a few days later when he sees a raccoon smearing itself with an oddly-familiar shade of frosting.

The rabbi is a Chaplain at Lenox Hill Hospital who Helen met during her husband's appendectomy. Unlike Helen, however, Rabbi Sally IS willing to travel to the West Side.

Because Naomi and Helen (the only siblings of Mendel's who have kids) don't attend, Mendel and Trina are left high-and-dry in regards to the ring bearer and flower girl. Jason and Allison (Trina's niece) pinch-hit, but they both feel way too old to be doing it despite the fact that neither of them have hit their teens.

Trina is neither Mendel's first girlfriend nor his first sexual experience but she is his first serious long-term partner. Mendel's parents adore her and they practically hold Mendel hostage over the phone for two hours the day before the wedding imploring him not to fuck it up. Mendel's mother is less harsh than his father on this issue, but she practically gives him an aneurysm with the TMI on how to please a woman. After the phone call, Mendel prays for the first time since his bar mitzvah, imploring God to never let him hear his mother say the word "climax" again.

Trina and Mendel both get the giggles during their vows and make out for an uncomfortably long time after they are pronounced husband and wife. Trina gives a long-winded speech at the reception about how helpful Mendel has been with Jason, how wonderful it is to become part of his family, and how it all turned out for the best that they only had ten guests because that's not enough people to lift them up on chairs and dance. Whizzer jokes that it will happen some day (spoiler alert: nope)

After the ceremony and reception, Trina's family heads back to Westchester. Whizzer offers to let Jason stay with him overnight so that Mendel and Trina can have some alone time, but Whizzer lives too far from Jason's school and has had a lot of champagne and Trina is concerned Whizzer won't wake up in time to get Jason ready. Mendel's parents decide to walk him to Marvin's place and get cookies on the way because Jason feels rotten about ruining the cake. Mendel's dad gives Jason "the talk" on the way there and Jason can't look at Mendel for a week afterwards.

Mendel and Trina do not consummate their marriage on their wedding night because Mendel's so overwhelmed with emotion (they're happy tears, but still) and Trina feels weird about "schtupping" an openly sobbing man. They do enjoy a lovely cuddle though.

Trina's mother and Mendel's mother form an alliance at the wedding and take turns harassing their children for the next two years about the prospect of future grandchildren (despite the fact that Trina's mother already has two and Mendel's mother has a bazillion). They eventually get their wish in January 1982 with the birth of Elizabeth Taylor Weisenbachfeld (named after Whizzer's favorite actress, and nicknamed "Whizzie" for short), after which they move uptown to a larger apartment in Marvin's building, and the birth of Caroline Charlotte "CC" Weisenbachfeld and Marina Cordelia "Marnie" Weisenbachfeld in September 1983. Marnie is named after Marvin, who passes in the spring of 1983. I've always headcanoned Trina to be a few months along during "Holding To The Ground" as she contemplates bringing another life into an increasingly damaged world.

#Falsettos #Falsettos Headcanons #Trindel #Trina Weisenbachfeld #Mendel Weisenbachfeld

[glknight]

The Naturality of Flaws: How the Shape of Water Dances Between the Natural And the Perverse

When I was 13, I saw Guillermo Del Toro’s Cronos for the first time.

It was a dreary day, raining in late Winter to early Spring, and a teaser for Cronos, followed by Steven Seagal’s Hard to Kill was on Cinemax. Having seen Hard to Kill in theaters, I sat down to watch what was touted as a “horror film” (at the time, I was watching mostly terrible B-Movies in my exploration of horror cinema like Full Moon Pictures and a good portion of the Troma catalog, and just starting to get into Foreign cinema more).

After the film ended, I skipped Hard to Kill, and dove into my library to pull out all the classic horror stories I had. Because I felt I had met a kindred spirit who loved what I love, who cared about the importance of perspective, and who holds a special place for the outsider and the ones that society deems “flawed”. And nowhere do I feel this connection more deeply than in his latest film, THE SHAPE OF WATER.

Before I fully talk about this film, let’s cover the basic plot of the film, shall we?

We follow Elisa Esposito (played by Sally Hawkins), a cleaning woman who was rendered mute from a savage mutilation of her throat and left by a river when she was a baby. Living a patterned life of sleep, masturbation to ease her loneliness while the eggs for her lunch cook, working as a graveyard shift cleaning woman at a government research facility in 1960′s Baltimore, and home again, her closest friends are her African American co-worker, Zelda (Octavia Spencer), and her neighbor, closeted gay artist Giles (Robert Jenkins). Wishing for something more, her life is changed when Agent Strickland (Michael Shannon) comes barreling into the facility with the latest “asset��� in the war against the Soviets for the Space Race: an Amphibious Man (Doug Jones), worshiped as a god by a local South American tribe. While Strickland treats him like a beast, Elisa becomes enamored and shows him a gentler, more humane side as the two fall in love.

In a setting and story that most would film in monotones and starker contrasts, Del Toro shows his masterful touch by filling the grey between in hues of greens blues and orange. In each scene, the marked differences between vibrancy and sterility are as simple as a bluish white light filtering in through a rain streaked window. No matter how dark or imposing a setting may be, there’s almost always a lightened shade or colored tone playing off of or behind something to provide connotation of hope or naturality. Whether it’s the vibrant blues of the Merman’s flesh against Elisa’s paler skin, or the sterile yellows and whites of the facility as Strickland is interrogating the two female leads, or the simple aspect of whether a jello mold should be red or green, there is always a shading choice which supports the idea that the enforced notion of sterility over the importance of acceptance of the things beyond our control is wholly unhealthy. In truth, the film’s central tenant lies not in the exploration of what is and isn’t acceptable, but in the acceptance and control of one’s self when presented with their own flaws, physically, mentally, or even in standing.

In fact, it is those notions of acceptance and control that play a massive element into the choices the characters make. From Elisa’s early in life acceptance that most will be unable to understand her and how that inability to speak has empowered her in other ways (leading to a beautiful moment where she segues from sign language into a song and dance routine of Alice Faye’s “You’ll Never Know”), to Giles acceptance that his age and sexual preference are viewed as completely unwelcome but doesn’t chance his own value as a human being (having some of the most heartbreaking scenes in the entire movie), to even how Zelda and her husband’s differing actions impact the end of the film. Conversely, it is the unacceptable mindset of Strickland’s need for control, mostly viewed as cartoonish by film goers that is probably the most interesting story of all, in a clear allegory for the destruction to “keep some form of order”.

Whether through using his preferred weapon, a cattle prod designed to look like a policeman’s nightstick at the time, or through the addiction sub-plot after the Merman bites his left hand’s ring and pinkie fingers off and he begins to pop his painkillers like his favorite candies which he always carries on him to hide dealing with his clearly rotting digits. Even from the way he fucks, mechanical and specifically for his own satisfaction, quieting his wife who has more control in his own home in a move very similar to how he’s treated by his superiors in the film. Instead of accepting his flaws and communicating his thoughts, he keeps his frustrations in and takes it out on those around him. He is an interesting study into how the need for control and comfort ultimately creates true monsters nicely contrasts a secondary plot line of a Soviet agent that has infiltrated the facility, only to eventually realize he wants to escape the clutches if a program that clearly doesn’t know its own inhumanity develop into a compassionate entity far more human than Strickland. A man who in the period the film’s set in, would be set up as a protagonist for a lighthearted noir spy story about a Government agent hunting a spy within his own organization, with the secondary plot of a monster on the premises who falls in love with a mute cleaning woman. But it’s in this affiliation and empathy for the outsider that allows us to humanize those we would have relegated to filler and supporting characters and villains in the past, reminding us that the outsider matters just as much as the insider does, no matter what language they speak or who they look like.

And it’s in the outsider perspective that lead me to a very strange realization, with the location, the characterization, some of the central themes and the absurdity and love for some of the campier elements present in the film (old Hollywood, as evidenced by the inclusion of Alice Faye in “Hello Frisco, Hello”, Mr. Ed on a TV after Giles admits getting tired of seeing talk about the clear footage of the Baltimore Riots of ‘68, a very lively intrigue sequence involving Carmen Miranda, and the Story of Ruth playing in the cinema below the apartments Elisa and George live in a scant selection of references to be had). This film announces to the world that Del Toro is the surrealist, romantic equivalent of John Waters. Both men relish the outsider and all they stand for. Love the strange, the different, the eccentric. Both adhere to a Liberal view of the treatment of “the other”, the notion that they are us, and we are they. That it is in the rigidity of social acceptability and imposition of the central precept of Order and Rightness that the greatest flaws in humanity lie. That the Perverse and the Profane are quite often just a natural aspect that is forced into areas of unacceptable behavior because it grinds against the notions of what is safe and familiar. And that the only flaw we’re really all guilty of having is that we don’t let Love and Understanding dictate what is right and natural, instead falling back on the conceit of Control and imposition of Societal Importance to the great detriments of many we villainous and demonize and abuse within our own communities.

In terms of whether a film where the Creature from the Black Lagoon is coupled with a Beauty and the Beast story progression, I can definitely say this film is worth seeing. As a whole, it’s an incredibly solid film. The pacing bounces between natural and unnatural moments, suffering the occasional slow down every once in a while. The romanticizing of Old Hollywood, while fair, does tend to weigh a bit too heavy towards making the film feel bloated in its deluge of symbolism and reference. The score is effective in reminding the overall environment of the time, from catchy classic jazz numbers to the rather delicate and moody score by Alexandre Desplat. The effects and lighting are fantastic, from the plays on hues and shades to the design of the practical monster suit. And while the cast is good to excellent (clear stand-outs being Sally Hawkins, Robert Jenkins and Michael Shannon), the weight of the film being a monster story, a love story, a spy story AND a statement about the politics of the time being a darkly fantastical reflection of our current society muddies the overall tone and intention of the film. Not the best film of all time, but if you are wanting to learn how to interpret visual storytelling in an era of spectacle in a very personal way, then the Shape of Water is a must-see experience.

Although, gotta say I’m glad he stuck to classic jazz and big band numbers. Because throwing something like Franki Valley and the Four Seasons’ cover of Burt Bacharach’s “What the World Needs Now”, while on the nose like most of the film, would’ve probably been TOO blatant.

[newagesispage]

                                                                      JUNE                           2017

 PAGE RIB

*****The writers are working on Arrested Development season 5 which Netflix has confirmed is coming in 2018 with the full cast. Ron Howard tells us he is “Warming up my uncredited narrator vocal chords.”

*****The world was welcomed to Live with Kelly and Ryan! I admit that I don’t watch it but this surely won’t help. Why??  Why him?? His name recognition, his power, his falling ratings at E!? Seacrest showed his interview prowess by mistaking Jeffrey Tambor for Vincent Schiavelli, the now deceased actor from the subway in Ghost.  Read the new memoir Tambor was selling, Are you anybody?

*****Val Kilmer says he is healing from cancer.

*****Conan is being sued by a former writer of Leno’s. The man claims that Conan and his writers “lifted jokes from his blog.”  They deny the charges. TBS showed their belief by inking him to 4 more years. Next up an animated series called Final Space and more branching out on the way.

*****We miss U Gwen Ifill but Robert Costa is doing a great job on Washington Week!

*****Clerics are a bit uneasy about scary clown’s order to ease limitations on places of worship and their ability to talk politics from the pulpit. Some fear the two existing side by side and some are very happy to feel the freedom.

*****Nigerian school girls that were abducted 3 years ago are slowly being released. May has brought a second release after the first one in October.

*****Turkey’s President Ertogan sent his thugs out in Washington to beat peaceful protesters. There was no consequence for they have diplomatic immunity. Really? There must be limits. Welcome to Trumps America. **Turkey later gets upset about the ‘treatment’ of those bodyguards.

*****Jimmy Kimmel and his wife welcomed a baby boy named Billy. He was born with heart problems and Kimmel came out to explain to his audience before letting guest hosts take over the rest of the week.  His genuine concern for children that are not as fortunate financially was touching. Of course, those who vote against such things did not seem to agree.** Kimmel is also set to once again host the Oscars.

*****Scandal will run its last season next year.

*****Mystery Science Theatre 3000 is going on tour. Keep an eye out for the Watch out for snakes! tour around the country.

*****Met Gala: The soiree for the who’s who: Best dressed- Nicki Minaj, Blake Lively, Ryan Reynolds, Frances Bean Cobain, Lena Dunham, Mary J. Blige, Bella Hadid, Zoe Kravitz, Pryanka Chopra. Worst dressed- Solange Knowles, Helen Lasichanh, Pharrell Williams, Clare Danes

*****Scary Clown 45 tells us that Andrew Jackson could have avoided the civil war. He also told John Dickerson that he calls his program, ‘Deface the Nation’.  Stephen Colbert was so incensed by the disrespect  shown to the journalist that he had a few choice words like; disgrace the nation. He said that Trumps mouth was best used as Putin’s cock holder. He was bleeped but the FCC still looked into complaints, no action was taken.

*****Drake beat Adele’s record at the Billboard music awards. Best dressed were Rachel Platten, Machine Gun Kelly and Madison Beer. Worst dressed were Alex Pall, Andrew Taggart, Halsey and Billy Ray Cyrus.

*****Pence was invited to speak at Notre Dame’s commencement and dozens of graduates and family members silently stood and walked out.

*****Bobby Moynihan, Sasheer Zamata and Vanessa Bayer are out at SNL.

*****Netflix is bringing us Ozark with Jason Bateman (also executive producer and director), Laura Linney and Esai Morales. Look for it in July.

*****So sad to see icons on Fox news. When you see an occasional clip of someone like Joe Nameth, you wonder why??

*****Michael Moore is doing a one man show on Broadway. ‘The terms of my surrender’ will premiere on July 28. He is working on a feature right now about Trump called Fahrenheit 11/9 that will be distributed by the Weinstein’s.  In the fall he will be in TNT prime time with Live from the apocalypse. The climate is giving him a time to shine. Go Michael!!

*****Norman Lear has received the Woody Guthrie prize.

*****Michael  McDonald is working on a new LP, Wide Open.

*****Hillary Clinton has put together Onward Together! The political group asks people to get involved and organize!

*****A report claims that your nipple color is your perfect lipstick shade.

*****A cameo from Paul McCartney is slated for the new Pirates of the Caribbean. He will play a jail guard.

*****The x Mrs. Johnny Depp, Amber Heard has moved onto Tesla founder Elon Musk.

*****An x German rapper, Denis Cuspert , who became an Isis recruiter briefly married FBI operative, Daniela Greene.

*****American Housewife has been renewed for another season.

*****Jesse Jackson has been giving motivational speeches in some high schools. On May 12 he appeared at Peoria High.

*****Larry Wilmore is back with a podcast: Black on the air!

*****James Corden takes his show to the U.K. with Harry Styles and many more.

*****Brick and mortar stores are taking a big hit this year. 85% of all sales still come from these stores but they grew too fast for their own good. Mall building surpassed the population and we will have to say good bye to many of them.

*****James Comey tried to defend himself with the FBI oversight committee. He informed us that he asked for search warrants for wiener’s computer and had not yet got them when he released a memo to congress about looking back into Hillary’s e mails case which was called mid year exam. He claims he could not tell us about the Russian investigation because it was not and still is not finished.  I have to wonder that if Hillary’s e mails were so fascinating to them, are they looking into the casual way that trump conducts business ?  They are probably looking into starting the while Clinton Email thing instead. I have to shake my head at the slow progress of so many of these old senators on both sides of the aisle. It makes the whole thing repetitive and unproductive.  The biggest sound bite was Comey’s statement that it made him mildly nauseous to think he would affect the election. Oh, please!!** Things did get going a bit finally and In the middle of some rather hard driving questions, Trump suddenly appeared on my TV with the President of Palestine. The media bought right into it and it was everywhere. I had to find C-span 3 to continue the hearings and skip the photo op.

*****And then Comey  is fired on May 9 starting a whole new shit storm that distracts from Sally Yates damaging testimony. There have been multiple excuses for that. I think most dems can agree he completely mishandled the Hillary stuff but the timing is just so Trump! He does not even care how it looks, he bulldozes on. There is a giant fucking cloud over the whole thing. There is a letter from deputy attorney general , Rosenstein and Jeff Sessions recommended the firing but Trump says he was gonna fire him all along. Word is that Comey is mad, Rosenstein is livid and also the Presidents communication team. Acting FBI head McCabe assures us that the files were immediately secured. The Prez says Comey informed him that he wasn’t under investigation.  The Fox spin seemed to blame the fact that Comey  would not take the Obama wiretap allegations seriously. Trump also signed an executive order to look into his claims of voter fraud. It is like the biggest conspiracy theory nut got to be president and now we could spend millions of dollars on his crazy whims. OMG! **I feel that I may puke if I have to again see that clip of Comey and Trump shaking hands. Word is that Comey hated that day. ** And now the Justice department has appointed former FBI head Robert Mueller to lead a special counsel on the Russian probe.** Trump claims that ”No politician had it worse” at a Coast Guard commencement.** He probably should not have thrown Rosenstein under the bus because his appointment of Mueller gives him a lot of room to investigate.

*****Constitutional law prof. Laurence Tribe of Harvard writes that trump should be impeached because a President can’t ask for loyalty from the FBI director. He states other reasons like Trump can’t be trusted to stay within the law. Could Comey, the man who helped get him elected be the one to bring him down?

*****The treasury department is looking into money laundering issues with Trump.

*****Scary Clown takes his first trip out of the country as Pres. While there Toby Keith will be playing a ‘men only’ show in Saudi Arabia.

*****Mrs. Callista Gingrich is the ambassador to the Vatican.

*****Princess Mako of Japan will marry Kei Komuro and give up royal status.

*****Once the Stones do it, others always follow suit. Pink Floyd now has an exhibit of their history at the Victoria Albert museum.

*****Scary Clown has threatened to shut down all press briefings.

*****Studies from the CDC show that teens are drinking less.

*****Wow!! Was blown away by Joanne Froggatt in Dark Angel on PBS Masterpiece.

*****JS.. Saw Levon Helm’s Electric Dirt on Axl’s wall on The Middle finale.

*****Brazil’s President is also in some trouble with bribe allegations.

*****A tide brought back a beach on the west coast of Ireland that washed away 33 years ago!!

*****Jared Kushner’s sister, Nicole Meyer told Chinese investors that she could help foreign nationalists get visas through her family’s real estate business.

*****Trump took the Russians gleefully into the oval office and only let in the Russian press, No Americans allowed!! The White house claims they were misled about the Russian photographers. Russia is spreading the news that they have a better relationship with our President that we do. The Washington Post had a story that Trump released classified info to them.  Once a President says it , it is declassified.

*****David Brooks wrote a NY Times piece after the “leak” calling out Scary Clown. He calls Trump an infantalist for immaturity is becoming the dominant role of his Presidency.  He writes, ‘His falsehoods are attempts to build a world in which he can feel good for an instant and comfortably deceive himself. He is an ‘incompetent person who is too incompetent to understand his own incompetence.’ Well said!

***** I personally think that some people just like to live in chaos. Those people have taken over for now. I suppose that Trump loyalists like being puppets. It seems they can’t really think for themselves because everything scary clown does seems just fine to them. As long as he is firing people and disrupting the status quo, they are good no matter the cost. No backbone.

*****The Kennedy Center will honor David Letterman with the Mark Twain prize for American humor.

*****Have we ever had a first lady whose parent was a communist?

*****Nightcap on Pop will be back on June 7.

*****Comedy Central brings comics like Jerry Seinfeld and Kevin Hart with Colossal Clusterfest.

*****The Great British Baking show will be on PBS on June 16.. Hey.. that is Tom’s birthday!!

*****The Battle of the Network Stars is coming in June.

*****People of Earth is back on TBS on July 24.

*****Marijuana business owners were in Washington this month to fight for their rights. They specifically brought attention to section 280-E of the tax code that does not allow deductions and The Respect the State Marijuana Laws act of 2017.

*****Rumors have always been out there that H H Holmes escaped execution.  His great grandchildren have petitioned for and been granted permission to exhume his body.

*****The house voted to end health care as we know it. It is opposed by the AMA, AARP, ACA and on and on. The groups are trying to ban together to hold town halls and explain just what they will get if Obamacare is taken away. But Scary Clown and all his other smug white buddies were laughing and joking about how wonderful it all is. Idaho congressman, Raul Labrador even said later that “Nobody dies because they don’t have access to health care,” They all have a very strange sense of humor. To quote a song from another time, “Ain’t no time to wonder why, whew! We’re all gonna die!” It is like a nightmare. I guess their thinking is that if they get rid of all the poor people, they won’t have to look at us anymore? They do not understand the idea of paycheck to paycheck. To get money back on your taxes to help fund your own health care is impossible for many people. They feel they have to get this health care plan through so they can then do the tax plan. They need the health care money for the poor so that the top moneymakers can have their big tax cuts.** Why not just fix the problems with Obamacare like a not for profit public option to buy into?**Women are a majority in this country, how the fuck did we get here? ** I loved Bette Midler’s tweet on it the best: “GOP passed a health care bill so bad they exempted themselves from it. They may live longer, but when they die, it’s straight to hell.”

*****Richard Simmons is suing American Media Inc. and their Radar online and National Enquirer for a story about his transitioning into a woman.

*****Bob Newhart came to Chicago to headline the Salvation Army’s annual civic luncheon.

*****The IFC’s Brockmire is fun and raunchy and you can see Hank Azaria nude. He and Amanda Peete have great chemistry but the rest of the cast is awesome too. I am so loving Tyrel Jackson Williams, the tech nerd and Daisuke Tsuji , the Japanese Free mason pitcher. The Pennsylvania town of Morristown is so Monessan like.

*****A woman may face a year in prison for laughing about Jeff Sessions. Desiree Fairooz was convicted for disorderly conduct but some are calling this fake news.

*****Loretta Lynn had a stroke and has postponed her tour. She is now in rehab.

*****Oh Conan.. Please.. More of the “Gilligan” writer please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

*****Days alert: More of the tech nerd Myron Radditz!! And let’s keep going with the love story of JENERIC!!** I saw the Days punk pimp on a new ad for Geico. He is going places?!** Could they make Nicole any more whiny or stupid!! C’mon!** It is time to kill off Jade.**Morgan Fairchild has joined the cast as Angelica Deveraux.

*****I always knew that Debra Winger was cool. I see that she has admiration for Better Call Saul and The Americans. Yes!!

*****Jeff Goldblum will be back for the next Jurassic Park!

*****Always Dreaming won the Kentucky Derby!

*****Gov. Greg Abott has signed a ban for sanctuary cities in Texas.

*****Norway has the wonderful slow TV on their public broadcasting. It started with a train trip. You can watch chopping wood or burning logs or sheering sheep and knitting. There was a cruise that lasted 5 and a half days. It is syndicated around the world.  YES!!

*****Hooray!! Paris did it! Macron wins!!

*****New Orleans is courting controversy with the removal of many civil war statues.

*****The U.S. has armed the Kurds in Syria. **The White House is also considering new troops in Afghanistan.

*****Trump quote: During the Clapper /Yates testimony: “Watch then start to choke like dogs. Watch what happens. They are desperate for breath.”

*****If you haven’t been reading Carl Reiner’s tweets about Donald Trump.. you must check it out. A recent example: “In his first hundred days in office, trump has succeeded in affirming to our citizens that our great nation will cheer his impeachment.”

*****The Stones are revving up for a new tour in Europe.

*****American Crime Story will tackle Katrina with Dennis Quaid playing George W. Bush.

*****Sam Rockwell will play a KKK leader alongside Taraji P. Henson as a civil rights activist in Best of Enemies.

*****After the court said that Trumps website still stated that ALL Muslims should be banned and Sean Spicer was asked about it in a briefing, it immediately disappeared.

*****Why is frat house hazing still allowed to go on?? These are grown ass people that act like 5 year olds but with booze and drugs.

*****In 2011 a nodosaur mummy was discovered in Alberta with the skin and stomach contents intact!! Paleontologist Vinther says the dinosaur, from 110 million years ago was so well preserved that it might have been walking around a couple of years ago. It is now on display at the new Alberta museum. How fucking exciting is that?

*****Jeff Sessions tell us that he would like the harshest sentences possible for drug offenses. These guys sure like their torture and punishment.

*****RIP Jean Stein, Steven Holcomb, Powers Boothe, Roger Ailes, Chris Cornell , Lisa Spoonaver, Roger Moore,  Gregg Allman and Susan Hurt.