#How sure she was that she loved Eddie and not Barry

[thatsnotmygunflash]

*kicks rock* Do you think Iris felt like she was betraying Eddie for marrying Barry?

#There had to have been a little part of her #replaying their conversation about there being 3 people in their relationship #And how firmly she denied it #How sure she was that she loved Eddie and not Barry #Does she ever look at Barry and ache #because this wasn't the future she had dreamed of #Do you think she goes to his grave and just sits and cries sometimes #wondering what could have been #iris west #eddie thawne #barry allen #the flash

[loveshotzz]

Strange Love with Rockstar! Eddie or Punk!Steve!

reader has a love/hate relationship with him. total enemies to lovers type trope. reader is caught hate fucking one of them in a car or bathroom and when asked about it she simply says the iconic line “I don’t have to fucking tell you anything”

Rockstar Eddie x fem!rockstar reader

summary: You and Eddie seem to hate each other, so why can’t you keep your hands to yourself?

warnings: 18 + ! cocky eddie, mean reader, switch eddie and switch reader, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up!), cream pie, semi public sex.

word count: 3.3k

A/N: another blurb (aka one shot 🙄) for my follower celebration and to break steve streak with some eddie! I hope you enjoy. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always super appreciated if you enjoy 💕

“Jesus Christ how have you not sucked that fucking thing to the center yet?!” Throwing his notebook down on the table his clipped tone breaks you out of your pre-show warm up.

Twirling one of your drumsticks in between your fingers with ease, you bring your attention to the fuming metal head making sure to slurp down the sugary build up in your mouth as loud as you can.

“Jealous I’m not sucking something else Munson?” Pulling the remains of the lollipop out of your mouth you watch his eyes follow the string of spit that connects to your red tinted lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you smirk at the eye roll it earns you.

“In your fucking dreams.” He growls but you know damn well that’s exactly what he wants.

Barry and Jeff’s eyes widen from across the room, knowing exactly where this was headed. Gareth had handed over his drumsticks to you temporarily while he nursed a broken wrist, and despite Eddie’s protest here you were.

It always started this way, bickering before every show throwing insults at each other desperate to bruise the others' ego before hitting the stage. Creating a tension so thick it could only ever end one way once the adrenaline started coursing through your veins.

With purple and green bruises painted across your kneecaps and a slight limp in your walk from the last time you ran your mouth, you were ready to take no prisoners tonight. Especially when he stepped off the stage looking like that.

His tattooed skin glowed with a sheen of sweat under the lights in the back, his sleeveless white Iron Maiden shirt clung to what seemed like every muscle flexing underneath. Your eyes following the salty droplets falling from his bangs, you hate that you want to catch them with your tongue.

“You were off on the count down tonight.” Eddie’s critique sends rage down your spine as he brushes past you to high five Jeff. The temporary haze his body had you in quickly fading.

“I wasn’t off on dick, you came in too early.” Quick to snap back, you try to ignore the bulge growing in his pants. He was picking a fight on purpose. The menacing glint in his chocolate eyes gave himself away the moment they connected with yours.

“Sweetheart, I think you and I both know I don’t come early.” The cocky grin that spreads big across his face makes your hands twitch, fingers wrapping tightly around your drum sticks you will yourself not to chuck one at him. His face starting to look more and more like an easy shot when he throws you a wink.

Snorting loudly, you don’t give him the satisfaction. Your reaction only making it worse, as he narrows his eyes at you, shooting daggers at your knowing smirk. Insulting his sexual performance in front of his friends was always the quickest way to get under his skin.

“No shame in coming early Eddie, at least one of us gets too.” Your eyes catch the women’s restroom as you near the end of the hall. Flipping him the double bird, you push the bathroom door open with your back making sure to throw him the nastiest look you could muster before disappearing from his view. The boys “ohhh’s” filling your chest with pride at your victory.

Taking a shaking breath, you curse the amount of slick already ruining your underwear. Thighs pressing together in search for friction when you think about the way you just made his jaw clench. Thankful that the two stalls in the bathroom were empty, you set your drum sticks down on top of the soap dispenser before running a stream of cold water for yourself. Splashing some against your chest and neck it’s almost enough to calm the fire Eddie set ablaze inside of you.

The loud creak of the door opening snaps your head up, eyes watching from the mirror the sound of the lock clicking into place is followed by heavy footsteps. His heavy footsteps.

Rounding the corner Eddie Munson looked like he wanted to eat you alive.

“Real funny joke back there.” Big black boots stopping a few feet away from you, he crosses his arms over his chest before leaning against the wall. “Like I don’t make you cum screaming my name every other night.”

“Oh fuck off.” Rolling your eyes at him through the reflection you shut the water off, turning around to face him you make sure to mimic his stance pushing up your tits in the process. Plush lips twitching, he was onto you.

“I think you love saying my name actually.” Tapping a ringed finger on his full lower lip he pushes himself off the wall. Long legs making it easy to close the little space that was between you. The tobacco, weed, and sweat that dripped from his pores only added to your mess.

Crowding your space, he cages you in with both hands gripping the sink behind you. Ducking his head down till his lips brush against the shell of your ear, you can’t stop the shudder that runs through your body when you feel him smile against it before continuing.

“I think you dream about all the different ways I make you say my name, I know I dream about all those pretty little noises that I get from you.” Nipping at your ear lobe, his new sweetness has your resolve starting to break already as your arms start to come undone. Hands finding a new home on the button of his jeans.

“But then you start actually talking and my dick goes soft.” Dimples poking through his cheeks he pulls back to catch your reaction, more than proud of himself for thinking he got the upper hand. He’d almost gotten you to fold already.

The sting of his words sink in at the same time you feel his growing erection press against the top of your thigh. Meeting his gaze, the smug look on his face quickly turns into confusion when you give him a Cheshire smile.

“This doesn’t feel very soft to me baby.” Cupping his junk he hisses when you give it a good squeeze, feeling it twitch under his zipper you knew he was lying through his teeth.

His hands leave their place on the sink to grab at your hips, bruising fingers digging into your soft flesh adding to the almond shaped clusters already there from the nights before. Regaining control you continue to palm him, his heavy breathing becoming music to your ears. Reaching up on your tippy toes it's your turn to press your lips to his ear, relishing in the way you make him shudder just the same.

“You know what I think Eddie?” Nudging your nose into the dampness of his curls you suck his earlobe in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks till he moans. His grip on you almost becomes painful.

Releasing it with a pop your fingers work at the button of his jeans stopping at the zipper when you don’t get an answer.

“I think the only reason you didn’t want me covering for Gareth is because of how bad you wanted to fuck me and you didn’t think I’d feel the same.” You’re not gentle when you pull the zipper down, almost feeling bad when Eddie sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck to hide the broken groan.

Stuffing your hand down his pants you’re quickly met with the stickiness of his precum that already covered the inside of his boxers. Smirking against his ear he wasn’t so tough hunched over you like this. Completely at the mercy of your hand as it wraps around the thick base of his shaft pulling him free from his confines with a quick pump.

“And now that I’ve fucked you.” Eddie’s blown out eyes watch you spit in your hand before wrapping it around his length again. Gliding across him with ease his hips meet your pump when your thumb swipes over his leaking tip. “You don’t know how to handle it cause you want me to be yours huh?”

Stroking him with purpose all you get is a nod a low whimper. Biting your lip you suppress your own moan seeing him like this.

Sinking down, your fishnet covered knees hit the ground in front of him. Ringed hands finding their way back to the sink as he looks down at you from between his arms. The warm chestnut in his eyes turned onyx, you had all the control right now.

Making a show of stroking his length with both hands, you look up at him from underneath the hood of your lashes making sure his eyes are on you before you take him in your eager mouth. You were gonna make him eat his words from earlier just for fun.

Flattening your tongue you lick a long stripe up the side humming in satisfaction when he twitches in your hand. Taking his tip between your lips, your tongue is greedy to lap up the pearly white liquid leaking from the top. Eyes rolling in the back of your head when the saltiness of it hits your taste buds, you take as much of him as you can into the heat of your mouth without warning.

“Holy fucking shit.” Moaning loud enough to echo off the walls, his hands grip the sink is tight enough to see the milk of his knuckles.

Your hands hold the back of his thighs pulling him closer, relaxing enough to take him till tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. You hollow out your cheeks till his ruddy tip hits the back of your throat, his coarse pubic hairs brush against the tip of of your nose. Vision going white behind closed eyes. His brain short circuits under the quick work of your mouth, unable to even register what’s happening till the heaviness in his balls warn him of his impending release.

“Wait - shit - fuck - you’re - you’re trying to make me cum aren’t you?” Your taunting words from earlier ring loud in his head, he knew this was too good to be true.

Humming in response the vibration is almost enough to have him shooting down your throat. Mustering enough strength to regain control, he tries to pull away from you but your grip on his thighs only tightens, relaxing your throat even more.

Groaning when you take him even deeper than before you hear the metal of his rings clank loudly against the porcelain of the sink, holding it hard enough to break as he tries to fight off his orgasm.

“You’re done.” His tone is final when his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, pulling he rips you away from him with enough force for him to fall from your mouth with a slick pop.

Chest heaving as he tries to regain his breath, he looks like a man driven insane when the blacks of his eyes look down at you on your knees. Lips red and swollen from sucking his cock like your life depended on it, he would never get sick of seeing you like this.

“Now stand up and bend over the sink for me like I know you want to.” Voice dripping with want, your underwear was becoming almost uncomfortable from soaking through them all night.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you use his hips as leverage to pull yourself up letting the length of your body rub against his painfully hard erection in the process. Hissing with the extra sensitivity he grips your cheeks with one hand when you're finally back on your feet.

“I’m not cumming quick and you’re gonna cum first. You got that?” Nodding between his fingers, his lips turn up in the same cocky grin from before knowing he finally had you where he wanted you. He always knew when your eyes glazed over like this.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips he nudges your nose with his before whispering “Turn around.”

Following his instructions you face towards the mirror again, your hands finding purchase on the sink where his just were. Leaning forward to give him the access he wanted, your eyes meet your own in the reflection. The person staring back to you is almost unrecognizable. A needy tear streaked mess you watch him flip your skirt up over your hips, his eyes darkening even more when he sees the insides of your thighs coated with your own arousal.

“Always so fucking wet for me.” The strain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but you were too needy to be an asshole now. Wiggling your hips to taunt him, you look back over your shoulder. Blown out eyes meeting yours the expression on his face is enough to have you flutter around nothing.

His big hands grab at the doughy flesh of your ass. Watching the way it jiggles when he smacks it, the sting of his rings going straight to your cunt. FIngers curling around the tops of your tights he pulls them down with your underwear to your ankles. The cool air of the bathroom making you shiver when it hits your soaked folds, your body begging for more.

Running two fingers through your slit, he rubs a few small circles with pointed pressure to your bundle of nerves before collecting more of your slick to use as lube. The squelching noises at just his small touches has your cheeks burning hot, your body betraying your cocky words from before.

Coating himself enough to slide in easily, you feel his mushroom top spread through your folds. Rubbing himself down the length of you he chuckles darkly when you chase more with your hips.

“God, you’re gonna take me so well baby. You’re already such a mess.” Pressing himself to your entrance, you brace yourself tighter against the sink preparing for the stretch. You always had to get used to the feeling of him splitting you in two.

Nodding dumbly your neck goes slack when you feel him finally push himself in, walls stinging as he slowly makes himself fit.

“She’s sucking me in so good, so fucking tight. This all mine? Tell me it’s mine.” Pussy drunk already, Eddie didn’t care to put on his usual front anymore. You felt like heaven around his dick and he wanted you for himself.

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer or adjust before he pulls himself almost all the way out before abruptly shoving himself back in. The burn of his harsh thrusts making you cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, the pleasure slowly becoming more prominent when he starts hitting your g spot with every deep stroke.

His hands grip your hips to keep you close, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty stalls as he keeps up with his punishing pace.

“I asked who’s pussy this is baby.” One hand snaking between your jiggling thighs, two fingers quickly find your more than needy clit. Rubbing harsh figure eights he bends over so his chest presses against your back, somehow pushing himself even deeper. You swear you can feel him in your stomach like this.

“Answer me.”

Jaw slack and eyes scrunched close, the familiar tightness in your gut is getting closer and closer to letting go. Stopping the motion of his hips when you don’t give him what he wants, your eyes snap open as a strangled whine leaves your throat.

“I’ll give you what you want princess just tell me who your cunt belongs to.” his tone is full with dominance when he whispers in your ear, you muster enough brain power to find your voice.

“Yours.” Barely above a whisper when it leaves your mouth, he adds pressure to your bundle of nerves but just enough to tease.

“Louder.” Pressing his hips deeper into you, it’s enough to have you claw at the sink.

“YOURS” Too desperate to care about how he was going to hold this moment over your head, the need to cum was becoming overpowering after the day of relentless teasing. This is how it always was, the dynamic switching almost every time.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word coming out with a punch of his hips, his fingers make quick work against your clit obsessed with the way it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Being able to watch your face from the reflection of the mirror while he railed you from behind with everything he had only made it that much harder not to spill deep inside your velvet walls. Fingers working overtime on your swollen nub, the furrow of your brows and the way you start to tighten around him tells him all he needs to know.

“Come on baby, make a mess of me.” His thrusts became more deliberate in your undoing, each one hitting deeper than the last.

“God - Eddie!” It’s overwhelming when it hits you, seeing stars behind your closed eyes as your walls constrict tight enough to earn a loud drawn out ‘fuck’ as your release washes over him.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it.” The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft bruised skin of your hips as you feel him twitch inside of you.

Warmth filling your belly as he paints your insides white, you’re left a panting mess while he shudders on top of you. His orgasm hitting him in waves with the way your walls continue to milk him long after yours is done.

Keeping himself inside till he’s soft enough to slip out on his own, your soft moans fill the quiet at the loss of contact. The fullness that had you a trembling mess was replaced with that familiar dull throb of the after effects.

“You gonna be nice to me now or what Munson?” Putting himself away his eyes meet yours in the mirror. Their soft brown returned to their normal warm state, catching the beginnings of a small smile playing across his lips, his cheeks flush crimson.

“Depends on if you’re gonna be nice to me.”

Pulling your tights and underwear back up, the fact that you were keeping his seed inside like it was normal had his cock almost kick up again. You made him insatiable.

“I think I’ve proven to be very nice.” Biting your lip into a smile you lean back against the sink batting your eyelashes at him for good measure, your flirting only making him blush harder despite everything.

“I think we can work something out, who knows I might not even want Gareth back at the end of this.” The laugh he earns quickly becomes his new favorite sound.

Slinging his arm around you, he pulls you deep into his side before both of you make your exit out of the bathroom together. The boys all waiting around the hallway with knowing looks all over their faces. Taking in your more than chummy body language Barry’s the first to speak up.

“So does this mean you two are together or something?”

Jeff refuses to look you in the eyes, making it more than obvious they had gotten a little show, neither one of you really trying to be quiet.

“We don’t have to fucking tell you.” Eddie snaps scared that their questions will sabotage what he just got.

“Calm down man.” Raising his hands in defense Barry backs off “Just trying not to get whiplash with this sudden change of heart.”

Squeezing your shoulders tighter you reach up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek earning a unified groan from everyone, and a satisfied hum from the one that’s still dripping down your thighs.

——-

eddie tag list: @munsonology @munsonmunster @bimbobaggins69 @elthreetimes

#leighanne’s follower celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson x you

[thebisexualdogdad]

Earth 2-Barry Allen x Male!reader headcanons

*I'm currently doing a rewatch of the arrowverse and got to the earth 2 episodes and earth 2 Barry was so adorable I just had to write something for him. Anyways here's a quick recap for earth 2 for anyone who's forgotten because I surely did; Barry is still a forensic scientist, Iris is a detective, Joe is a lounge singer, Caitlin, Ronnie and Cisco are all evil metas and I brought Eddie back just for fun since Barry is with reader

● you're a new detective who fell for the adorable nerdy forensic scientist Barry Allen of earth 2

● when you originally asked him out on a date he thought you were just messing with him cause everyone at the station knew he liked you

● but why would the handsome detective (who was also his best friend Iris' partner) want to go out with him?

● Iris assured him that you really did like him and that date eventually led to you guys getting married 3 years later

● every morning before work you make breakfast while he makes the coffee

● it's a nice peaceful moment to start your day and spend quality time with Barry

● you also help him pick out a bowtie that matches whatever sweater and vest he's wearing that day

● double dates out with Iris and Eddie to see Joe sing at Jitterbugs

● as well as having dinner once a week with his parents

● you hear the "so when are we getting grandkids" question all the time

● "soon mom, soon"

● he's so pure and never swears

● he only says "what the heck" or "dang it" or "fudge"

● it makes you laugh at how sweet it is

● watching sci fi shows with Barry and not knowing anything that's going on

● he tries to explain to you all the sciency stuff behind it which still doesn't make any sense but he gets so excited and is so cute doing so you happily listen to him

● being impressed by your husband every time he creates new tech to help in your hunt for Killer Frost, Deathstorm, Reverb and other metas

● Barry keeps tracks of every meta you have put away and all of your other achievements to brag about how great of a detective you are

● one time you and Iris faced off against Killer Frost and Deathstorm and she nearly froze you to death

● Barry never left your bedside in the months you were recovering

● "Barry stop worrying I'm okay"

● "you're the love of my life Y/N I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you"

● "well it's a good thing you don't have to find out"

● when you get approved to go back to work Barry and Iris throw you a big welcome back party

● Barry is super romantic

● he plans something big for every anniversary from the anniversary of the day you met to your first date/first kiss and even the day you proposed

● you don't know how but he manages to get reservations at the most exclusive restaurants in Central city

● Iris "so what did you and Barry get up to over the weekend?"

● "Barry surprised me with dinner at that fancy French place downtown"

● "how?? Eddie and I have been trying to get a reservation there for months but they are booked until next year"

● even though you've been together for years Barry is still so nervous in the bedroom like it's the first time

● he's clumsy and always knocking things over, you've had to replace so many lamps in your home

● he gets embarrassed by how his body reacts to you and still apologizes for moaning too loudly or bucking his hips uncontrollably

● which you always have to reassure him that it's okay for him to enjoy what's happening and that you love how turned on he gets

● especially when you are role-playing and pretending to arrest him

● or when he sees you in your gym clothes after a work out

● he really can't help staring at your biceps it's his weakness

● when earth 1 Barry shows up to fight zoom he is shocked to find out you two are married (as you are Joe's partner on his earth that he's been crushing on) after you take him to an empty hallway at the station to make out when he was pretending to be your Barry

● your Barry finds out and is not happy about it, "he got frisky with my husband?? I have to find this guy and give him a piece of my mind"

● "you're so cute when you're jealous"

● Cisco "I've been trying to get my Barry to ask you out Y/N for so long now I have proof that you guys would be adorable together"

● Barry "maybe we are just meant to be on every earth"

#the flash imagine #barry allen imagine #barry allen x reader #earth 2 barry allen imagine #x male reader #headcanons

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 9: A Long December]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: While “A Long December” was originally released by Counting Crows in 1996 (and is thus compliant with the 90s theme), the version I listen to most is Girlhouse’s cover from 2022. So maybe check that out. It is a bop!

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, a tiny bit of sexual content, Christmas with Momtini and Dadtini, Kimmie making a realization, Aegon making a drink, Appletini making plans, Trent making some killer pool shots, the Ice Fisher getting into the holiday spirit, please enjoy this nice little respite before the events of Chapter 10. :)

Word count: 6.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: ​​​​@elsolario​ @ladylannisterxo​ @doingfondue​ @tclegane​ @quartzs-posts​ @liathelioness​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @thelittleswanao3​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @hinata7346​ @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ @eddies-bat-tattoos​ @minttea07​ @joliettes​ @trifoliumviridi​ @bornbetter​ @flowerpotmage​ @thewitch-lives​ @courtenbae​ @tempt-ress​ @padfooteyes​ @teenagecriminalmastermind​ @chelsey01​ @anditsmywholeheart​ 

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

You descend the staircase gingery, sheepishly. Your socks slip on the hardwood steps like tires on black ice. You’re trying to avoid your parents, but you can’t wait any longer to eat breakfast or you’ll be late for work. They’re bustling around in the kitchen: cracking eggs, chitchatting, banging plates and pans, cooing over Sunfyre, listening to an R.E.M. album that spins on the record player.

When you walk in, your dad is standing by the stove wearing the apron you got him for his 50th birthday. Pizza Slut, it says. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey, ladybug.”

“Oh no.”

“I heard you come home pretty late last night. And then you got right into the shower. Hmm.”

“Hmm!” your mom concurs joyfully.

Your dad nods to the pan he’s hovering over, wielding a spatula. “Salmon omelet?”

You sigh, defeated; and yet, you must admit, you love salmon omelets. “Yeah, sure.” You sit down at the table next to your mom. She’s drinking Earl Grey tea smokey with cream and reading a newspaper: Halle Barry is marrying a jazz musician, Puff Daddy’s Notorious.com is looking for a venture capitalist willing to invest $7.5 million in startup funding, a man was arrested in Times Square for threatening President Clinton, the Nasdaq composite index—fueled largely by the dot-com boom—could hit 5,000 by the end of 2000. You wonder what Aegon’s family is doing right now. Do outrageously wealthy people eat omelets and decorate Christmas trees? Do they hop from store to store in some glitzy metropolitan mall hunting for presents—KB Toys, the Disney Store, Hallmark, Bath and Body Works, Hot Topic, RadioShack, Claire’s, Wet Seal, Yankee Candle—before grabbing a late-afternoon snack at Cinnabon or Sbarro, maybe a smoothie from Orange Julius? Or do they just sit in their mansions under vast unsmiling portraits until they grow dusty and turn to stone: gargoyles, angels, lions bearing their fangs? Are they still human at all?

“How’s Trent doing?” your mom asks. “Still trying to get into the Forest Service?”

“As far as I know. But that’s not who I was with last night.”

Your dad sets an omelet down in front of you, along with a glass of orange juice and one of the same Flintstones multivitamins you’ve been taking since you were in preschool. Jesse used to give me those, you think randomly, recalling the reminders he penned in his clandestine journals. When he was around. When he was sober. Your parents exchange a wary glance. “Oh?” your dad ventures in a squeak, trying to sound casual.

You could lie, but you don’t. Juneau is too small for lies. People know each other too well, they bump elbows in grocery stores and bars and parking lots; they make overly-familiar small talk and inadvertently spill secrets. The last thing you need is someone teasing Trent good-naturedly about your supposed night of passion. He might be dumb, but if he ever gets all the pieces in his titan hands he’ll eventually figure out how they click together. “I was, uh, actually, uh…visiting Aegon.”

They watch you, faces frozen in forced, benign smiles. You pet the top of Sunfyre’s shaggy head with your left hand and stab a fork into the salmon omelet with your right. “Well, that’s great!” your dad manages. “He’s a nice boy, that Aegon. So Greek. And plenty sexy, as we’ve previously established.”

“Is he feeling better?” your mom asks politely, slurping her tea.

“Oh yeah. Much better.” It comes out way too enthusiastic, and hot blood floods into your face. Your parents chuckle…and yet their eyes are troubled, distant, though perhaps in different directions. “Just so you know, things aren’t really working out with Trent. I’m trying to let it fizzle so there isn’t any drama that makes things awkward or creates any…uh…bad blood, I guess. So if you see him around, definitely don’t mention Aegon.”

Your dad does a mock salute. “Got it, General Ladybug.”

“What are Aegon’s plans for Christmas?” your mom inquires. Your dad turns to her, but doesn’t say anything. “It must be difficult for him, being so far from home. Especially around the holidays. I would hate for him to be alone.”

Probably drinking himself into unconsciousness while watching Jingle All The Way and Die Hard. “I don’t know, that’s a good question. I should ask him.”

“He can spend Christmas here with us, if he’d like.” Your mom finishes her tea, sets the cup down on the table, fiddles with it. “We’ll have more than enough food. And we could find a few things to wrap for him so he has presents to open.”

“Now if that’s not holiday spirit, I don’t know what is!” your dad says happily; and if he’s bluffing, he’s good at not showing it. He kisses your mom on the cheek, resting his study hands on her shoulders. She smiles up at him.

You wolf down the last few bites of your salmon omelet, chew your vitamin, knock back orange juice like a shot. “Alright, I should get going, or I won’t be back in time to open the vet clinic at 9.”

“I can always hold down the fort for a few hours,” your dad offers.

“No, that’s okay. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to bother you.” I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to let you down. “You’ve earned retirement. Enjoy all the Judge Judy and Buffy The Vampire Slayer you can handle.” You pet Sunfyre and tug playfully on his ears. His tail wags at warp speed. “Are you ready to go home to your favorite person now? Are you excited?”

Your dad lumbers off into the kitchen. “Here, bring Aegon some breakfast too…” He piles a salmon omelet, a mountain of hash browns, and toast slathered with butter and strawberry jelly into a Tupperware container. You take it and glance out the window that faces the driveway.

“Oh, great. Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“The cow moose is out there licking the road salt off my Jeep. Can you get rid of her?”

“Again?! Okay, I’m on it.” He grabs some pots out of the cabinet and heads outside. You can hear him beating the pots together and shouting: “Goodbye, moose! You live in the woods, not the driveway! Goodbye! Au revoir! Adios, mooseachos!”

At the kitchen table, your mom laughs. She’s still tinkering anxiously with her cup. “Only in Alaska.”

“You’re really alright with Aegon coming over for Christmas?”

“Of course. I’d prefer it, actually. I’d rather know he’s safe. Not alone, not in trouble.”

“Even though he might end up passed out under the tree?”

She smiles: faint, tired, melancholic. “I’ve seen worse.”

When you let yourself into Aegon’s apartment, he’s dressed for work and self-medicating with a rum and Coke mixed in a cereal bowl; it’s the only dish he has that’s currently clean. Sunfyre bolts to him, barking wildly and jumping up to prop his paws on Aegon’s chest as you slide the Tupperware onto the kitchen counter.

“Hey, buddy!” Aegon cries, ecstatic. “I missed you! Yes I did! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?!”

“Where are you going?” you ask, scrutinizing him.

“Fishing,” he says simply, like this should be obvious.

“I don’t think you should be going back to work this soon. You just got out of the hospital.”

He shrugs. “I need the money.”

“I can give you money.”

“You definitely could, but I don’t want your money, I want my money. Besides, Trent won’t be able to protect my job forever. If I can’t work, Rusty will find someone else who can.”

“Trent,” you echo morosely, staring at nothing in particular.

Aegon downs the rest of his rum and Coke, then puts his bowl in the sink. He walks over to you, his oceanic eyes cautious, his lock of white-blond hair resting on his cheek. “What did he do to you? At dinner, I mean. Before you called me.”

You take his left hand and turn it over, studying the lines on his palm: past, present, future, all in a language you can’t read. You hesitate; you can’t decide what to tell Aegon. You aren’t sure what you want him to know.

“He didn’t hurt you, right? Or try to touch you in a way you didn’t want him to?”

“He kissed me. I pushed him off. That’s all.”

Aegon watches you, eyes severe and glinting. “That’s not all.”

“I tried to break up with him at the restaurant,” you confess. “First he acted like he didn’t understand. Then he got upset, offended. We agreed to slow down, but I’m not sure what he thinks that means. Maybe he’s planning a summer engagement instead of a spring one, I have no idea.”

“You made him angry.” Aegon’s voice is flat, entirely flat, like he’s battling to keep it that way. “I thought we agreed not to make him angry.”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, Aegon.”

“No no no, my bad, let me clarify, I’m not mad at you. I just don’t understand why you would be so direct about it. I’ve broken up with a lot of people without actually breaking up with them. You ignore, you deflect, you do the bare minimum, you are intentionally unappealing in every way…and then eventually they move on. That’s the way to go. That’s how you avoid confrontations.”

“I don’t want this thing with Trent to die a slow death.” Oh, perhaps a poor choice of words. “I don’t want to be with him, to even keep up the facade of being with him. I want to be with you. I want to be with you in every way, everywhere, all the time.”

Aegon smiles. He twists his fingers into your hair and touches his forehead to yours and then kisses you, softly and unhurriedly. As he pulls away, he gently bites your lower lip; his fingertips ghost across the front of your throat like a necklace, like a chain. You moan into him, unable to help it. “I won’t go to work if you don’t either,” Aegon murmurs.

“I, an eternally upstanding citizen, definitely have to go to work.”

“Man, fuck capitalism,” he says, and you laugh together.

Something occurs to you. “You didn’t wait for Kimmie to move on. You broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I had another candidate in mind for the extremely prestigious position of being my Juneau girl.”

You tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him again: heat, rum, memories from the night before. Lust stirs up in your blood like ancient silt in seawater. “Please be careful at work.”

“I will, Appletini. I will. Don’t worry. You’re always worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. There’s no point in that.”

“I think I’m just someone who’s doomed to worry a lot in general.”

He grins. “Yes. But I’m your favorite thing to worry about.” He lays his palm against your right cheek and kisses your left: quickly, lightly, like it’s routine, like he’ll be doing it every day for the rest of his life. “Have fun at the vet clinic. Saving all those furry little lives.”

“I’ll see you at Ursa Minor tonight?”

He winks. “I’ll be the one with the electric guitar.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You get stuck late at the clinic spaying Mr. Mark Morehouse’s Flemish Giant rabbit. By the time you rush through the front door of Ursa Minor—bells jangling, a gust of cold wind at your heels, patrons glancing over with vague interest—the band is already performing. Aegon is wearing his cuffed jeans, black combat boots, and, in a radical departure from his usual color scheme, a royal blue turtleneck sweater. He’s braided a section of his hair on the left side of his head and woven a single, small, blue-dyed rose into it. He gives you a subtle nod when he sees you come in, a sly half-smile. He’s singing a punk rock, up-tempo version of Counting Crow’s A Long December.

“I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving, now the days go by so fast…”

“Heyyy, bitch!” Heather greets you, raising her Sex On The Beach. Joyce and Kimmie are swaying together, brandishing lighters in the air: Joyce smirking and reluctant, Kimmie—a born groupie—shamelessly exuberant. You swing by the bar to get a Bacardi Breezer (blueberry, very good, one of the better flavors) and stand beside Heather. You gaze at Aegon as he strums his battered guitar, and the parallel strikes you for the first time. Aegon too is layered with imperfections: scars, marks, ink, demons with gnashing fangs and needlelike fingers that dangle past their knees. And yet what he gives to the world is so beautiful. And yet he is so goddamn miraculous.

“I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself to hold on to these moments as they pass…”

It takes you a long time to notice that Kimmie is watching you. Something clicks like a dislocated joint popped back into its socket; and that’s the way it’s always been with Kimmie, since she was a child, since she was a five-year-old chasing boys around the playground at recess. The hints pile up—a lot of hints, sometimes years of hints—until eventually there’s an avalanche of realization that hits and drags her under like a rogue wave. She sucks in a breath and her doelike eyes shoot wide open. You try to pretend you didn’t see anything, but that’s not Kimmie’s style. She pushes her way through the audience and grabs your wrist, hauling you away from the crowd. Heather observes this, slurping down her Sex On The Beach, trying to ascertain if you need reinforcements.

“What—?!”

“I didn’t know,” Kimmie says, like it’s an apology. Her eyes are pained and fearful, a deer bathed in headlights.

“You didn’t know what?”

“That you’re in love with him.” Her voice is reedy and trembling. She’s petrified, you realize. She’s afraid that I’ll never be able to be her friend again. Not a true friend, not a pure one. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I even asked you first. I never would have hooked up with him if I had known, never, never. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t like we had real feelings for each other—”

“Kimmie, Kimmie, it’s fine,” you soothe, rubbing her shoulder. She’s wearing a ridiculously fluffy hot pink sweater; it’s like petting a neon sheep. “I’m the one who wasn’t upfront with you. I didn’t think Aegon and I had a chance, so I was purposefully trying to avoid him, to avoid any feelings I had for him. It didn’t work out that way, but…yeah. Anyway. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“Oh my god, so you’re together? Like, together?” Kimmie blinks at you, shocked but not scandalized. You’re not sure it’s possible to scandalize Kimmie.

“We don’t really want everyone to know about it.”

“Oh, because of Trent?”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Maybe some of those genius professor genetics made it down the Plinko board after all. “Exactly.”

“Jesus Christ, he’d probably snap Aegon in half if he knew. Like a freaking KitKat bar.”

“That’s a mental image I didn’t need.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Kimmie swears, empowered by this rare, consequential responsibility.

“I really, really appreciate your discretion.”

“You and Aegon, wow…” She mulls it over, baffled. “So you’re pretty kinky too? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You should have told me! We could have gone shopping together!”

Shopping with Kimmie for fuzzy handcuffs and riding crops and, who knows, probably like vibrating butt plugs or something. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that. I will most likely never be emotionally prepared for that. “Boundaries, Kimmie. Honestly, I haven’t seen that side of him. At least not in my albeit limited experience.”

“Huh,” Kimmie says brightly. “I guess he’s in love with you too.” And then she trots off to rejoin the crowd. Boat #27 has concluded their performance and is accepting cheers of acclaim and complimentary drinks from their adoring fans. Joyce hugs Rob, climbing onto her tiptoes and giggling. Joyce!? Giggling!?!? You grab another Bacardi Breezer before heading over, raspberry this time.

“Hey, babe!” Trent booms when he sees you.

Oh god. Oh no. You shrink away when he throws an arm across your shoulders. Aegon watches this as he approaches, sipping a rum and Coke, eyes like blue embers.

“Right,” Trent groans, like it’s some grave inconvenience, like it’s some passing fad he has to endure. “I remember now. We’re taking things slow.”

The clique assembles by the pool table like battle-ready Power Rangers: you, Trent, Joyce, Rob, Heather, Kimmie, Aegon. “Someone should play!” you say, truly a master of redirection.

Trent flips his hair. “Obviously I’m down.” He looks at you expectantly. You ignore him, drinking your Bacardi Breezer and then pretending to drink it once it’s empty.

“Oh, you are going down.” Heather cracks her knuckles and grins, then picks up a cue stick.

“Battle royal!” Rob announces. Joyce sighs and pulls a fantasy novel out of her purse. Kimmie perches on the edge of the pool table: legs crossed, eyes roving, gold hoop earrings glittering under Christmas lights, seeking attention and drawing it to her like Saturn ensnares moons. A gaggle of bashful men appear out of nowhere to worship her. Dale’s stereo pipes out Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Dale himself is wearing a red Santa hat and yawning boredly into the back of his hand.

“I need another drink,” you say, and head for the bar. Aegon follows you.

“You don’t want a Bacardi Breezer.”

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.” He flags Dale over once you’ve claimed your seats. “Hey Dale, did you get the stuff on the list I gave you?”

“Sure did.” Dale sets an array of items on the bar: apple juice, lemon juice, florescent green apple schnapps, vodka, a single Granny Smith apple, a paring knife, a shaker halfway filled with ice, a small plate covered with sugar, two chilled martini glasses. “You owe me, though. Especially for the schnapps. I had to order a case all the way from Seattle!”

“Add it to my tab.”

“Which you’ll pay when? In 2023?”

“I’ll pay, Dale!” Aegon insists.

Dale rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem genuinely annoyed. “Sure you will.” He yawns again and ambles away to take the orders of some locals sitting at the other end of the bar. The thuds of his boots are heavy and slow on the hardwood floor, the same one Aegon almost died on nine days ago.

“What are we doing?” you ask, but you’re already smiling. You have a pretty good guess.

“We’re making appletinis,” Aegon replies.

“You knew how to make appletinis this entire time and never said anything?”

“Oh no, I definitely did not,” he says. “I found the phone number of a friend I met back in San Francisco and figured she might know. She’s a bartender. So I gave her a call and asked very, very nicely and sure enough, she had a recipe.” He pauses, contemplative. “I told her I was in Chicago. Just in case.”

Just in case his ghost manages to track her down. “Have you seen this friend naked?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” you say, and you find that you mean it. Aegon is here with you now, and that’s all you can ask for. Still, his commitment to relative honestly seems enduring.

“The answer is yes. But it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“Really, it doesn’t matter. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Yeah, you don’t look mad.”

You smile at each other, Christmas-light sparks in your eyes, alone in a crowded room. Well…alone except for Mariah Carey. “Anyway,” you prompt. “Am I getting a real-life appletini or what?”

“Let’s do this. Uh…” He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Okay. I think I know how it goes.” He adds apple juice and lemon juice to the shaker. He doesn’t measure; he estimates, splashing in a little at a time until he’s content. He caps the container, gives it a few vigorous shakes, then opens it again. He pours in the schnapps and vodka, then shakes again. “Cut a few slices off the apple, vet lady. Nice and thin.”

You do, four transparent crescent-moon slivers. Aegon rubs lemon juice around the rim of each martini glass with his ring finger and then dunks them in the sugar until the rims are covered in fine white crystals like snow. He garnishes the martini glasses with the apple slices, gives the shaker one last whirl, then empties the contents into the glasses: half for you, half for him. He hands you your introductory appletini and toasts his glass against yours.

“On three?” Aegon asks, and you nod, beaming. You count together: one, two, three.

Your first taste isn’t a tentative sip. You take a full, brave swallow of the vivid green brew. It’s jarringly sour, sticky-sweet, crisp and refreshing like springtime. “Oh, I love it!” you trill.

“It’s…uh…” He takes another investigative slurp. “It’s definitely appley.”

“You hate it,” you say, laughing.

“I don’t hate it,” he counters. “I like what it’s doing to you.”

You close your eyes, the sights and sounds of Ursa Minor fading away. You’re somewhere sleek and vibrant and new; you’re in New York City, you’re in Los Angeles, you’re in Las Vegas, you’re in San Diego. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling. “Sorry. I was teleporting.”

“Do you want the rest of mine?”

“Yeah,” you admit guiltily, and he slides his appletini over to rest by yours. You drain them both. “I’m like Jack Dawson. I’m the king of the world.”

“You’re very, very cute when you’re tipsy, that’s what you are.”

“My parents think you should spend Christmas with us. I think you should too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay. Don’t buy me anything fancy, though. I won’t be able to return the favor.”

“Sad impoverished homeless man gifts only. You have my word.”

“Hey!” Heather calls from the pool table. She’s waving her cue stick in the air. “I lost! I’m a loser! I got slaughtered by this jumbo-sized motherfucker! And you weren’t even here to witness it!”

“We should go over there,” you tell Aegon, and he steadies you when you wobble as you slide off the barstool. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. Now I have an excuse to touch you.”

“Dale, can I get some Chex Mix or something?” He tosses you a little blue bag from behind the bar. You miss it completely. It sails over your head and smacks into the floor. Aegon cackles hysterically, but fetches the bag. He even opens it before he hands it to you. Then you set off together for the pool table.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heather asks when you arrive, her eyes narrow.

“I like appletinis. I really like appletinis.”

“It’s December 22nd, the commencement of Capricorn season, and you are celebrating this momentous event with an uncharacteristic display of recklessness and frivolity? Inauspicious!”

“What did I miss? Besides your humiliation.”

“Flintstones vitamins,” Rob says, rubbing blue chalk on a cue stick. He and Trent are playing pool now; Trent is showing Kimmie and several of her sycophants, including Matt and Gary, how he can make a shot with his hands behind his back. Aegon circles the pool table, his hands in his jeans pockets, watching Trent reticently. “Childish and stupid or totally acceptable for mid-twenties adults?”

“Totally acceptable,” you declare, munching on Chex Mix. “I just had one this morning.”

“That’s what I said!” Kimmie cries. “They’re delicious. I could eat a whole bottle of them. I used to lie to my mom when I was a kid and insist she hadn’t given one to me yet so I could get extra. My high score was five in a day.”

“That can’t be good for you,” Heather says. “Wait. Maybe it explains some things.”

“A lot of things,” Joyce quips, turning a page in her book.

Kimmie defers to you, the foremost medical authority present. “Vitamins can’t hurt people, right?”

“Well, that depends on the vitamin.”

“Some can,” Aegon says. “The fat-soluble ones, because your body can’t flush them out as easily or something. Too much Vitamin A can really fuck someone up. There are people who’ve died because they ate a polar bear liver, which has, like, millions of units of Vitamin A. So if you ever happen to eat a polar bear, skip the liver.”

“You can overdose on vitamins?” Kimmie asks him, puzzled. “Like, vitamins can kill you?”

“Oh yeah, lots of things can kill you if you take enough of them. Too much Vitamin A can cause seizures and comas, Vitamin D can give you a heart attack, Vitamin E can make you hemorrhage out of your eyeballs and stuff. And it causes strokes.”

“Oh snap!” Kimmie exclaims in horror, thinking that perhaps she barely escaped with her life. Heather is thoroughly amused.

You look at Aegon as he passes by you like a satellite whirling around the Earth, a blinking light in suffocating darkness. He’s right, but he shouldn’t be. He hasn’t studied medicine. He hasn’t studied much of anything. “How do you know all that?”

He replies curtly: “How do you think?” And then he resumes his orbit.

Rob attempts a shot and misses. “Ha!” Trent says, flipping his hair, and then starts lining up his own. As he leans over the pool table, he asks you: “So, where were you last night?”

Your mind, already hazy, goes useless. Cold sweat bubbles up out of your pores. “What? At home.”

“No you weren’t.” His eyes are on you like a wolf’s, like a beast’s. “I called the house. A couple times, actually. I felt weird about how we left things and wanted to apologize. But no one answered.”

“Oh, sorry, I mean I was at home, but then I went to go bowling with my parents.”

“No you didn’t.” Trent’s cue stick hits the striped red ball, number 11, and sends it hurtling into a pocket. “I already asked Dale. He’s in the bowling league, and he said you weren’t there.”

Two lies. And I don’t have a third. You stand there helplessly, surrounded by Christmas lights and tinsel and pine trees, your thoughts churning slowly, slower, dragging to a full stop. The chatter around you dies down. Wide eyes dart between you and Trent. Joyce closes her book. Even Dale is peeking over from the bar. His face is crisscrossed with lines of disapproval, of fascination.

“Where were you, huh?” Trent takes a step closer. He’s huge. He’s so fucking huge. Aegon picks up the black 8 ball off the pool table; no one else notices but you.

“Trent,” Heather scolds her brother, stunned. “Take a chill pill—”

“Where were you?!” Trent demands.

You try to conjure up an excuse, any excuse. All you can think of is how badly you don’t want to end up at the bottom of an ice-covered lake. I can’t die, I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t been anywhere yet. I haven’t seen San Diego.

Trent begins one final time, still clutching the cue stick, his voice deafening: “Where were—?!”

“She was with me!” Kimmie bursts out, and everyone spins towards her. “I, um, I was upset. Devastated, in fact. Because of, um. Boy problems.”

Heather titters nervously. “What else is new.”

“So I called and I was an absolute blubbering mess on the phone and she offered to come over and hang out. Watch Buffy with me. Do my nails and stuff. It’s really embarrassing.” She smiles at you, a soft glowing smile. “Thanks for trying to keep my secret.”

“No problem, Kimmie,” you reply shakily.

“Oh, babe!” Trent says, his face splitting into a smile, pressing a hand into the small of your back. He even flips his hair in that simpleminded, horselike way. He can’t be the Ice Fisher. He can’t be…right? You flinch when he touches you. On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon rolling the black 8 ball back onto the pool table. “That’s all?! You should have told me!”

“It really wasn’t my situation to share.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” Trent seems to mean it. “I’m really sorry. That was a dick move, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hulk smash?” Rob says, and there is laughter, quivering with fresh relief.

“I think I have to go,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “I’m really not feeling great.” And that part’s not even a lie. “I shouldn’t have mixed Bacardi Breezers and appletinis, I’m a total lightweight. And I have work in the morning. I’m supposed to vaccinate like ten of Mr. Campbell’s reindeer.”

“You want me to drive you home?” Trent offers.

No! Definitely not! “Thanks, but I couldn’t bear to interrupt your pool game. Especially when you’re winning.” You can tell Aegon is looking at you. You intentionally don’t acknowledge him. And now you realize that you’re a little trapped: you can’t say you’re driving yourself home because you’re not sober, and you can’t say that Aegon is walking you back to his apartment because then Trent might murder you both right here in the middle of Ursa Minor, blood splattering the deer heads mounted on the wall, femurs and vertebrae littering the pool table.

“I’ll do it!” Heather volunteers. “I’m super not-wasted at the moment.”

“Um, well…”

“Come on.” She’s already going to get your parka off the coatrack. “I can’t in good conscience let you vaccinate those reindeer without a full night’s sleep.” You trail after her, powerless to refuse.

Out in the night-draped parking lot, you haul yourself—with some difficulty—into Heather’s Chevy Suburban. And as she turns the key in the ignition and begins defrosting the windshield, you tell her: “When you leave the lot, make a left, not a right.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Aegon’s apartment.”

“I’m…?” She gapes at you as it sinks in like an anchor through dark surf. “Oh my god. Oh my god…?!”

“Affirmative.”

“Oh. My. GOD.” She puts the Suburban in drive and, as requested, makes a left onto Main Street.

Sunfyre is delighted to see you when you arrive. He leaps, barks, pirouettes in circles, accepts copious scratches and Milk-Bone treats. You collapse onto the threadbare couch, and he stretches out on the floor beside you, his quiet snoring soon the only sound in the apartment. Your eyes blur, flutter, close up shop. Maybe twenty minutes later, you hear a key rattling in the front door.

Aegon walks inside, his boots dripping with snow. He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. “You alright, Appletini?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of woozy but I mostly just wanted to leave.” You consider him, wondering how to ask him the question that won’t leave your mind. It claws at the arched walls of your skull like a trapped animal, leaving streaks of blood where its nails were torn away.

“I don’t want to talk about the vitamin thing,” he says.

“I don’t want to talk about Trent.”

“Deal.”

He throws off his parka and boots, turns on the X-Files, and crawls onto the couch with you. You fold into him and he holds you, not hungrily, not asking for a thing. You freefall into sleep with your head against his chest, his heartbeat a distant roar like thunder.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Ice Fisher has left Juneau a Christmas present: Stephanie Nolan, his fifth victim. She was twenty-five years old, an avid knitter, a Blockbuster employee, mother of several adopted Himalayan cats, one of three sisters born barely a year apart. At least her parents still have some children left, you think. At least the pressure to make their sacrifices worthwhile wasn’t all on her. Your dad sneaks a few minutes of news coverage while your mom is in the shower. They’re replaying the press conference that Chief of Police Eugene Baker gave late last night on Christmas Eve.

“We urge all Juneau residents to remain vigilant. This is the time of year for celebrations and get-togethers, and we don’t want to discourage that in any way, but no one—and I repeat, no one—should be outside alone, especially not after dark. Ms. Nolan left her place of employment to take a ten-minute smoke break, and that was all the opportunity the killer needed. He is still out there, he is still dangerous, and no one is immune from becoming a target. If you have any information relevant to this case, anything at all, please call our anonymous 24/7 hotline at…”

There are camera flashes, uneasy clamoring, flailing hands of reporters begging to be called on. Your dad crosses his arms over his broad chest, his face grim. A reporter asks Chief Baker: “I understand that the Juneau PD has brought in FBI profilers to help them identify possible suspects. Can you share any new theories with the public at this time?”

“Well, there are a couple likely possibilities. The Ice Fisher might be someone who is new to the area, someone who arrived this past summer or early autumn. Residents should therefore be extremely wary of newcomers. However, it might be the case that the killer isn’t new to the area at all, but rather suffered some sort of destabilizing event—loss of employment, for example, or the death of a loved one—that triggered their otherwise dormant violent impulses. The last theory I’m prepared to share today is that the criminal now known as the Ice Fisher might have been active long before this recent string of murders. Some serial killers have been known to…to test the waters, so to speak…with murders that can be camouflaged as accidental or natural deaths. That’s a possibility in this case, and we are combing back through the department archives to see if there are any answers there…”

“I should go pick up Aegon,” you say.

“Ladybug…” Your dad stalls, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “I’m not saying that I think Aegon is the killer, because I don’t think he is. I know he’s not, actually. He doesn’t have much rage in him. He has a lot of other things, I believe, but not that. I’m just saying…you have to be careful. And he can’t keep an eye out for you if he’s passed out drunk somewhere. Do you get what I mean?”

“I understand, Dad. I’m careful. Really, I am. And I’m never running around town alone. If I’m not with Aegon, I’m with Heather or Kimmie or Joyce.”

“Or Trent,” he adds. He likes this idea; Trent might not be able to snap a murderer in two like a KitKat bar, but he could definitely crack a few ribs. Trent would be a great Mortal Kombat character. He could skewer foes with a cue stick, right through the eye socket. An icy shudder rocks down your spine.

“Or Trent.”

“Okay. Good.” He turns back to the tv, his eyes vacant, his voice low. “Just making sure.”

Aegon is dressed in his Christmas best: dark jeans, black Converses, his hair loose and wavy, a festive red sweater with Gizmo from Gremlins on it. You’ve opted for a more traditional Rudolph turtleneck. Sunfyre has a large red bow tied to his collar. The three of you ride together back to your parents’ house, the radio playing Celine Dion’s O Holy Night, one of the back windows rolled halfway down for Sunfyre.

Dinner is a reindeer roast, rosemary apple stuffing, potato gratin, homemade macaroni and cheese, and creamed spinach; dessert is Christmas cookies eaten under the tree. You open presents as a parade of classics play on the tv: Frosty The Snowman, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Year Without A Santa Claus. Your parents give Aegon cold-weather clothing like hats and mittens, which he accepts with great appreciation. He gives them a bouquet of blue roses and three bottles of red wine, only one of which he drinks himself. You give Aegon a refrigerator magnet from Caribou Crossings, a grizzly bear with a salmon caught between its teeth, something to join the rest of his collection, something to help him remember Juneau once he’s gone. He gives you a handful of seashells from San Diego that he’s been carting around in his luggage for a year. Everyone gives Sunfyre Milk-Bones.

When Aegon takes the golden retriever out to the backyard, your dad goes with them. You can see them talking out there as snow falls and the sun sets and the horizon is inked with violet and gold, the wind whipping fiercely: Aegon’s hands moving in wild, dramatic gestures, your dad nodding along. They’re gone for so long you start to worry, your fingers trembling as you and your mom play chess with the new set you received for Christmas, not black and white but pet-themed: one side dogs, the other cats.

Your dad comes back inside first. He shuts the door and says to you, not accusatory but merely intrigued: “I didn’t know you were serious about wanting to travel, ladybug.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. One day. When I’m retired, I guess. Doesn’t everyone want to travel?”

“Huh. Aegon made it sound a bit more urgent than that.”

He watches you defeat your mom in chess, makes her some mollifying Earl Grey tea, and then offers to play Scrabble with her, a proposition she can never resist. When Aegon brings Sunfyre back inside—the sky fully dark now, the stars rising behind the veil of clouds—you lead him upstairs to your room. You sit on your bed together and flip through your travel magazines, scenes of Paris, Cairo, New York City, Rome, Tokyo, Cape Town, Buenos Aires, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, Sydney, Las Vegas, Cusco, Athens, Mexico City, Nairobi, California.

“It’s strange,” Aegon says. “Your parents like me, but they also kind of don’t like me. It’s as if they’re afraid of me. I can’t figure them out.”

You think of the cardboard box under your bed, the one full of Jesse’s journals. “My mom was married before. Vince is her second husband.”

Aegon looks over at you, attentive but not understanding. “Okay.”

“I was five years old when they got together. So Vince is my dad, but he’s not…like…he’s not biologically…well, you get what I’m saying.”

Aegon closes the magazine he’d been skimming, still looking at you.

“My mom’s first husband was named Jesse. And he was…from what I understand…he was a lot like you.” You tap your index finger against the crook of your own elbow so Aegon will understand. He was brilliant, but he was an addict. He was a blessing, he was a curse.

Aegon nods slowly. “I guess that explains a lot.”

“I probably should have told you sooner. But I’ve never really told anyone.”

“What happened to him?”

“He drowned in the channel. Maybe it was an accident, maybe suicide. Maybe it doesn’t matter which one. Maybe there isn’t much of a difference.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aegon says, his voice quiet and gentle.

“I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“It won’t. I told you. I’m not that easy to kill.”

You wonder if Aegon has become a ghost to his family, if he haunts the Targaryens like Jesse haunts you, half-comforting, half-heartbreaking, if after six long silent years his shadow still lurks in corners and doorways. You wonder if a ghost is really so far from what you are. “I want to stop feeling like a potential person, to stop waiting for the life I’ve always dreamed of to drop out of the sky. I want to feel real.”

“You’re real to me.” He dusts his thumbprint across the curve of your cheekbone, flesh and blood that sing to each other. “Listen, we’ll go to San Diego together.”

“Don’t, Aegon.”

“No, I mean it,” he says. “Give me a month to save up, and we’ll go. We’ll take a long weekend and fly down there. It won’t be hot enough to swim, but it’ll be warmer than here. Sixties, sunny, sandy, waves and tacos. We’ll stay somewhere with a waterbed. Those can be a lot of fun.”

“Careful. I might not want to leave the hotel room. What a waste of a trip that would be.”

“I’ll just have to make sure you’re bored of me by then,” he purrs, grinning and mischievous, dragging you into his lap. He smooths your hair back from your face, gazing up at you as you straddle him. He kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck; his teeth skate across your skin without biting down, without leaving indigo bruises of ownership. Slowly, he turns solemn and hushed. Slowly, you begin to worry about him.

“What, Aegon?”

“You’re the best present I ever got. I hope you know that.”

You whisper through his windswept white-blond hair: “Then open me.”

He lays you down on the bed, unearths your needful bare skin and stifles his moans against your throat, unravels you like a blood-red ribbon from a box heavy with secrets.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader

[fanartist666]

Idk if passenger is really a thing on here or if Barry Sloane gets any love on this app BUT I literally adore that show already.

THIS POST WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR PASSENGER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT!

Passenger. Oh my fucking GOD. I've watched it so many times. Eddie Wells has altered my brain chemistry. The tears I shed over that sweet, beautiful man.

The way he didn't even remember doing it, but thought he must have done because he was told he did, because everyone else was so fucking sure he'd done it, he believed them. He was branded evil, a monster, a freak, and probably everything else under the sun for something he didn't even remember doing. The guilt he felt. The staggering loneliness in those five years. It isn't discussed but I bet you any money his family didn't go and visit him once. In five fucking years. (I do understand why, I totally understand Joanne, Katie and Lily's motivations but that doesn't make it hurt Eddie any less)

Then he got out, and all he wanted was to be a part of his own family again. He wanted to be a husband and father again. He missed his little girls, he missed his wife. He missed his home.

And what did he find, what was his open and welcoming heart met with? Coldness, tension, conflict. His family is everything to him, and they didn't want anything to do with him. He wanted to bring Joanne a sandwich to her work, just to be nice, and she asked when he was leaving. Later his eldest daughter nearly threw boiling coffee in his face, his little girl, ready to cause him serious harm. A few days after Lily asks if she can tell him a secret.

He looked so delighted to be trusted with one. To be let back in just a little by the baby of his family, his darling baby girl. And she tells him "I wish you were dead." The TEARS I SHED when he looked up at her and visibly broke. (Barry Sloane is fucking slept on as an actor i swear to god, he is literally incredible). You could see something die in his eyes. The resolve when he stood up.

He went to end his life in the icy lake. 'This is what monsters deserve'. And who saved his life? But Jim, his 'victim'. Jim pulled him from a terrible death.

Because he was owed an answer.

Because Eddie was the beast that attacked him for no reason. Because Eddie was evil and did an evil thing, and Jim wanted to know why.

And then it turned out he was fucking innocent.

The whole time, HE DIDN'T FUCKING DO IT. 5 years in prison, in a 6x8 shoebox. For a crime he didn't even commit.

If you've read this far, do you get why he's changed my brain chemistry forever? He was pushed away, shunned, got himself beaten up, nearly killed himself over something he didn't fucking do.

Eddie was broken by the people of Chadder Vale. Even his own family. And none of it was his fault. 5 years stolen from him, his relationship with his family stolen from him, his reputation stolen from him, his life stolen from him.

AND THEN- AND FUCKING THEN- BARRY TWEETS THIS.

THE FUCK YOU MEAN HE HAS HIS DAUGHTER'S BIRTHDAYS ON HIS WRISTS. THE FUCK YOU MEAN HE HAS HIS WIFE'S NAME ON HIS LEFT FOREARM. THE LAYERS OF TRAGEDY IN ONE CHARACTER IN A SIX EPISODE SERIES ON ITVX. I AM A MESS OVER THIS INFORMATION.

HIS FAMILY IS HIS WORLD. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW MUCH IT WOULD'VE HURT HIM WHEN AFTER ALL THAT TIME THEY REJECTED HIM??

I'm sobbing all over again. Don't even get me started on the 'it felt real, no?' When Joanne rejected his affection so harshly, because my boy was fucking devastated. (Again. I can empathise with her, I do get it, I do understand her point of view. Eddie has just messed my brain up and I adore him.)

Sincerely, I love him. Thank you Barry for him. I'm going to sob in my corner and think about giving Eddie a hug until there's a season 2.

I am never going to be the same.

#barry sloane #passenger itv #eddie wells #itvx #passenger itvx #screaming #im cryin #shaking and crying #crying and screaming #screaming crying throwing up #a mess #never going to be the same

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

For the headcanons game, perhaps an AU where when Eobard goes to kidnap Eddie in s1, Barry gets to that bridge just a teeny bit quicker and saves Eddie (by Eobard kidnapping him instead)

YES. WHUMP. This is absolutely not something I really really hoped would happen when first watching the episode at the ripe age of 9. Nope. I was a completely normal child.

Ah. Remember when Eobard took a blood sample from Farooq, saying he’d love to know how he was able to steal the Flash’s speed. And that plotline went nowhere? Whelp, that would not be the case in this universe. Because of this, Eo wouldn’t need to keep Barry in Star labs which —alongside simply not having a speedster to search— will make rescue a lot more difficult. He also knows what he's doing, knows how to hack and deactivate all the trackers and tech in Barry's suit to ensure he won't be found.

This situation forces Eddie or Joe to tell Iris Barry’s the Flash (hell, Eddie may just yell “Barry!” When he’s taken and that gives it away) and she's going to be pissed. Like canon, they don't/can't report Barry as missing, and with him out of commission; Thawne doesn’t need to send Grodd, which means they can just focus on finding him. It would be even more tense for everyone because Wells/Thawne taking Barry actually makes sense which is somehow scarier than the alternative of the kidnapping being random. They’re just hoping they can find Barry before a man who hates him enough to kill his mom when he was 11— kills him too.

Meanwhile, Barry is not doing great because Thawne isn’t particularly worried about meeting his food calorie needs; just making sure he doesn’t die of starvation. Plus, Thawne isn’t keen on giving him information about, well, anything. “Why the hell am I here?" "What’s happening with my friends?" "What are you working on over there, I can’t turn my head enough to see it—" etc. These questions, of course came after empty threats, a lot of shouting, and probably the threat of a gag if he wasn’t quieter. The cherry on top, Thawne was acting weird towards him, lingering a little too close for a little too long. Rescue really couldn't come sooner.

Eobard figured out a way to replicate Farooq's powers to not just deprive Barry of his speed-- but transfer it to himself so he can run home. Luckily for him, Barry's compliance isn't needed, unluckily for him; it will take a few days to a week for Barry to be completely drained. Luckily for Barry, that gives his friends time to find him, unluckily for him... the process is extremely exhausting and painful.

Cisco doesn't even realize what was happening, just that one second, his hand was on the mannequin where Barry's suit would normally sit, and the next second-- the world had gone blue and Barry was there in front of him; tied to a chair with his eyes squinted shut and watering. He wouldn't normally trust whatever that was, but with no other leads and days flying past far too quickly; he decides to tell the team what he saw.

Two possible timelines: 1. Cisco is able to hone his powers enough to get Barry's location and they arrive just in time... or 2. just too late.

#I do not need more wips I do not need more wips I do not need more wips I do not need more wips #damn it. These always end up as fic outlines and very much /not/ headcanons💀 #just more evidence that I'm bad at headcanons LMAO #hope you enjoyed though! :) #this was a fun one #(ofc it was. Barry whump is love Barry whump is life. #that should've been my username) #asks #ask game answers #au headcanons ask game #fezwearingjellybananas #barry allen #fic ideas #NO #put that tag back where it came from or so help me #eobard thawne #eowells

[amorhedera6]

as someone who watched and loved season 1 of flash, and someone who watched tolerated all the way up to season 5 and half of season 6, i decided to sit down and watch the flash finale. and boy do i have thoughts.

most of them are what the fuck is going on.

i watched all of once upon a time, so i’ve been burned by shows losing steam and obsessing over the main ship instead of the interesting plot before. when i saw the signs in the flash, i pulled back. i didn’t wanna go through it again. honestly i should’ve before i did, but i have a crippling crush on grant gustin.

1) khione

i like dc comics, but it spans infinitely and there are lots of things i don’t know, so correct me if i’m wrong. but i did a little research and it doesn’t seem to me that khione was a character in the comics. so (if danielle panabaker was staying on the show) why not just let her be caitlin? have they just decided against the character they have been writing since season one? khiones plot of understanding her powers, of of coming to terms with who/what she was all could have easily transferred to caitlin. it got her well when they first began to integrate killer frost into her story! they could have continued, once frost died, by having caitlin regain some of frost’s powers. while having her mourn her sister, she adapts to having powers again and how to be herself with them and not frost. an echo of the plot that she was already going through when the writers decided to just jeckyll/hyde her. it would have worked incredibly well! plus, it would give caitlin a fulfilling end to the question she’s been asking since season one: who is she on her own? in season one, it was without ronnie, in season two she was battling discovering these powers, and by season three she was battling becoming the super villain she knew her doppelgänger was. making her another new character with the same plot that caitlin, then frost had just defeats caitlin’s purpose. when the original core characters of your show keep leaving (cisco, joe, any version of wells) why kill of another just to replace her with such a similar character played by the same actress?? it truly baffles me.

2) the time wraiths

i’m sure i’m not the first one to say this, but why introduce the time wraiths if you want to have barry keep time traveling to and fro. “but they’re creatures of the speed force, so obviously wouldn’t attack the avatar!” okay fine. NORA IS NOT THE AVATAR. WHY DOES SHE NEVER FACE CONSEQUENCES FOR HER TIME TRAVELS. SHE HELD HERSELF. AS A BABY. THAT SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED.

i may be biased bc i don’t like nora.

3) bart

i know he wasn’t really mentioned much in the finale, but i wanted to understand things i’d missed/forgot so i looked into him for this. why did they make bart a part of the show. i understand he’s a big character in the comics, but if they wanted to have another child for barry and iris be introduced, why not use the tornado twins? why use his grandson and just change it? any create nora at all?? (again i’m probably just biased against nora, but still)

it just doesn’t make any sense to me to take an established character and change their lore just bc you like it better than using the established characters, since that conflicts with your original characters. JUST FOLLOW THE SOURCE MATERIAL ITS NOT THAT HARD.

4) eddie

bringing back eddie thawne, when his sacrifice already didn’t achieve its purpose, completely cheapens the finale of season one. especially by making him an uncle villain who wants to destroy the timeline because his fiancée (who he knew was destined to be with barry in the future) denied him because she already had a husband and family.

eddie didn’t like barry in season one. he rightly thought that he was into iris and came in between the two of them. but he tried to be his friend because he was friends with joe and he loved iris. he was a good guy and he wanted good for the people in his life. he loved iris, and if it truly made her happier to be with barry than him, he would have stepped to the side, the finale completely changes his character for the wills of the plot, making him hate barry for “stealing his life” when he sacrificed himself so iris could continue to live her life happily.

5) iris’ labor

for two and a half of the four episodes of the finale, iris is in labor. and because they’re being attacked by the negative speed force, everyone rallies together to fight, and she is left alone in the hospital in labor.

WHY DID NO ONE CALL JOE???

i get he has jenna to look after or whatever, but that’s his daughter, she’s in labor, the father of the baby he also calls his son, and yeah it’s weird, but we don’t talk about that. his daughter is in labor, all alone, worried about wether or not barry will survive, and no one thinks that he would be helpful to the situation at all. so fucking stupid. i understand if maybe the actor didn’t want to come back for it, but he was already in the finale episodes anyway!! he was a major point in the first episode, and he was there when she finally had the baby in the end!! why couldn’t he just be there for a little bit longer??

6) cisco

okay, carlos valdez has said that he had scheduling conflicts, and that it was heartbreaking for him not to be able to return for the finale. i understand that. i am not at all criticizing that.

they couldn’t even name drop cisco? be like, ciscos picking up the cake at the party scene? have caitlin be in the phone with him instead of her mother at the end? they were best friends, you’re saying when she came back from the dead she didn’t even call him? or say i called cisco, he has blah blah blah going on so he can’t come help buuuut he gave us this vital piece of information!!

come one people. throw us a bone.

7) chester

i did get to chester in the original series, but it was like right as i was losing interest in it, so i didn’t care to research him at all, but i did for this! why did they make him diet cisco?? internet he comics, because he has a vortex inside of him, chester is fat. why was he played by a skinny guy? why did they not utilize his character to its full extent instead of just being a replacement once they found out carlos was leaving the show??

okay that’s all i have, i wanted to complain bc it made me angry. i liked the flash originally, i think it had a lot of good potential, but like so many shows, it was dredged on too long, got convoluted, the writing prowess diminished instead of flourishing, and it ended after too many seasons. sorry to the flash, you could’ve been so good.

#the flash #cw the flash #barry allen #westallen #iris west #caitlin snow #killer frost #khione #cisco ramon #vibe #tornado twins #nora west allen #bart west allen #bart allen #impulse #dc comics #eddie thawne #eobard thawne #joe west #chester runk #chunk #the flash finale #rant #ollie rambles

[shrinkthisviolet]

for the AU 5+ headcanons ask, is it okay to ask for Barriscowest? any AU, canon divergence version but Barriscowest?

It’s absolutely okay! Here’s one that popped into my head (there’s probably a fic or two out there with this concept, but I haven’t read one, so this is entirely from my own imagination):

Iris dates Cisco instead of Eddie during the coma. When Barry wakes up, he’s envious of them at first, and tries to dislike Cisco, but…he’s such a sweet guy and lovable too. Barry finds himself falling head over heels, but…Cisco’s dating Iris. His best friend. Who he’s also in love with. This is a problem

Cisco, for his part, is also head over heels but feels really awkward about it because he does genuinely love Iris. Still, he invites Barry over for movie nights, trying to convince himself it’s all just platonic

I should mention that due to dating Cisco and being Barry’s best friend, Iris is brought into the loop sooner. Not sure about the details of that, but like…her being out of the loop as long as canon isn’t totally plausible with the addition of her dating Cisco

Iris clocks the feelings growing between them, as does literally everyone else. Caitlin kind of frowns about it—she’s come to like Iris, and Iris doesn’t deserve her boyfriend being in love with someone else. Iris, though…she for some reason can’t find it in herself to be jealous. Especially when she sits in on some of their movie nights…she’s suddenly struck by the realization that right here, with the two of them next to her, all of them cuddled together on the couch…she’s the happiest she’s ever been

She doesn’t say anything though, so all of them are kinda pining and also guilty about it. Iris is more nervous than guilty—what if they think it’s weird? What if they laugh in her face and choose each other over her? Deep down she knows it’s ridiculous—Cisco would never break her heart in such a cruel way, and she and Barry are important to each other no matter what their relationship is—but…she can’t shake the fear anyway

Then the tidal wave happens. No waterfront kiss because we still don’t condone cheating in this house, but Cisco dies, and Barry and Iris are shattered—yeah, in this AU, they find that out. All thoughts of confession die on Iris’s tongue, and both of them are in grief—Iris hugs him tightly and says, “run, Barry, run”

Barry time travels. Cisco gets kidnapped. He saves Cisco. And then…he tells them both what happened, Cisco confesses about his dreams…and somehow, this leads into Iris confessing her feelings to them both. Both of them are shocked and happy and also the three of them all feel a little silly for all the dancing-around they’ve done the past few months. So they all agree to try dating each other and it’s…nice

I’m not totally sure how the rest of the season would proceed 😅 but with Iris so firmly on the Team, and Barriscowest such a well-oiled trio, I can’t imagine it would go any way except smoothly.

send me an au and i’ll share 5+ headcanons about it!

#au headcanon ask game #barriscowest #iris west #iris west allen #barry allen #cisco ramon #the flash

[hoperays-song]

On a scale of "master chef" to "could set a bowl of cereal on fire", how are the Sing characters at cooking?

Oooooo, great ask! Thank you! Here's a bit of an explanation and a rating from 1-10 (10 being the best). I hope you enjoy! -<3 Gooseless

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

Ash: 5

She's starting to learn how to cook from Rosita after Sing 1 but before that she was mainly surviving off of fast food. She never learned to cook from her parents as they often weren't home and she herself left home young. She's not horrible but not the best by any means.

Barry: 6

He can cook but only a few basic things like grilled cheese and oatmeal. While preferring not to cook, he does have to as Stan cannot and they were in charge of watching Johnny when he was little.

Buster: 2

...He can make sandwiches and that's about it. Even some of those flavour combinations can be extremely questionable.

Clay: 9

He is an amazing chef, having learned from both sides of his family. He cooks a fair mix of both Cajun and Irish dishes and briefly considered being a chef before pursuing music. He now is focusing on teaching Ash some of his recipes. Cooking is essentially a love language for him and he will bring food to almost any gathering.

Darius: 1

Burned cup Mac and Cheese and nearly got kicked out of his apartment... enough said.

Eddie: 2

He can heat up Cup Noodles safer than Buster can and make a few sandwiches... but that's about it.

Gunter: 3

The fanciest thing Gunter can make is boxed Mac and Cheese and he will forget the ingredients in even that. He can actually tell what flavours go together unlike some others but also always burns toast. He isn't that good at this.

Harry: 2

While he can make like a PB&J sandwich, there's a reason they and Darius mostly eat fast food. He sucks at cooking, not as bad as Darius but that's a very low bar.

Johnny: 7

Grew up with tons of home-cooked meals by both his dad and his neighbors, he's surprisingly good at cooking. He does need to follow a recipe exactly but he started practicing more when he lived with Rosita and has kept that practice going into the Majestic stay with phone calls to his dad for help. A lot of his happy childhood memories are cooking with his dad.

Marcus: 9

He learned to cook for his wife when she got too sick to be able to do so. He uses his wife's old cookbook to this day (her father was a chef) and is very good at it. Cooking is essentially a love language for him and he makes sure that when Johnny is at home he gets at least two home-cooked meals a day. He's had over 18 years of practice so he's a very good chef.

Meena: 7

She is much better at baking than cooking but she does know a few recipes. Her grandparents were actually the ones to teach her their old recipes when it comes to savory foods while her mom taught her deserts. She's good but she does credit that too a lot of practice as she much prefers working with sweeter foods. Most of her childhood was spent in the kitchen with her family though and it was a huge family bonding thing for them.

Mike: 1

He does not even know how to boil water.

Mrs. Crawly: 4

Not horrible but will commonly forget what she's cooking or what she already added so you never know what you're gonna get. She can make really good Turkish Delights though.

Nana: 6

While she is a decent cook, she doesn't have to cook for herself and therefore has fallen out of practice doing so. She is still disappointed in Eddie and Buster's cooking abilities.

Nancy: 5

She knows the basics but nothing even close to fancy. She and Mike eat out a lot.

Nooshy: 1

Has legit burned water while trying to boil it, they are not allowed with arms-reach of even a microwave. They are as bad as Darius.

Norman: 6

Decent chef, he knows how to make a few basics for the kids but he's never really been one to be talented in the kitchen. The most unique dish he can make is roasted potatoes.

Porsha: 1

She has never cooked a day in her life and has no idea what to do or where to start.

Rosita: 9

Rosita is an amazing cook and grew up helping her grandmother in the kitchen. She is constantly coming up with creative ways to get the kids to eat and try new foods. Rosita also has several family recipe books that she uses for most of her meals. She also taught Meena, Ash, and Johnny a lot of basics when it came to cooking. It functions as a love language for her as it allows her to take care of others.

Ryan: 6

Food is really difficult for him for various different reasons but he can cook. He is pretty decent at it, learning how to to help with his sisters, even though everyone always exaggerates how bad he actually is. His manman and mom taught his growing up.

Stan: 2

He once nearly got him and Barry evicted for starting a fire in a microwave. Marcus will not let him cook for his son in any way shape or form. Stan is a terrible chef and more than happy to let others cook for him.

Suki: 8

She's lived alone almost all her life and going out to eat in Redshore is crazy expensive. She taught herself to cook with the occasional help of some of her old mentors. Suki is pretty good at it and specializes in stir-frys as they are quick to make after work.

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

In Order From Worst To Best:

Nooshy-Darius-Porsha

Buster-Stan-Harry

Gunter-Mrs. Crawly

Ash-Norman-Nana

Ryan-Barry

Johnny-Meena-Suki

Marcus-Rosita-Clay

#sing #sing 2 #sing characters vs cooking #sing ash #sing barry #sing buster #sing clay #sing darius #sing eddie #sing gunter #sing harry the hypnotist #sing johnny #sing marcus #sing meena #sing mrs crawly #sing nana #sing nooshy #sing norman #sing porsha #sing rosita #sing ryan #sing stan #sing suki #sing mike #sing nancy #rynny if you squint and turn your screen upside down #noodlemoon if you squint blink and do a handstand #darry if you look through binoculars to mars #food is a love language

[storiesbyrhi]

Bones and All - Chapter 3: The Shire

Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence/gore, cuss words, weird parental relationships, updated each chapter

Synopsis: A Bones and All AU. What do you hunger for?

Chapter Summary: Bacon breakfast and you're on the road. 2785 words.

Eddie had fallen asleep on the couch watching wrestling on the old television set in the cowboy’s living room. When you had emerged and found him like that, peaceful and vulnerable, you felt something stir within you. A hunger unlike the other.

You sat on the floor in front of the sofa, back to Eddie.

Being that close to him made you feel good. You were safe with each other, safe from each other. You ached, somewhere in your ribs. But it was the kind of pain you could learn to live with.

While Eddie snored softly, you pulled your mother’s letter from your bag and carried on with the task.

I blamed myself every time. I shouldn’t have trusted you to take the bus - I should have picked you up and dropped you off. Monitored you more closely. I shouldn’t have taken you to the work party. I shouldn’t have let you get so pretty. So many regrets.

If I had known then what I know now, I would have made your father take you. I didn’t know about him until the day he left. Perhaps he could have done a better job.

Enclosed is half of all the money I have and your birth certificate. I don’t know where your father is, but his parents lived in Iowa, somewhere west of Cedar Rapids.

I will always love you, Y/N. Please don’t come looking for me.

“What’s that?” Eddie’s voice made you jump, the paper in your hands crumpling.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. Mirror neurons fired and you yawned too. You smiled at each other.

“Um. It’s a letter. From my mum,”

“She still in the picture?”

When you hesitated, Eddie looked away and pulled his Reeboks on. “Well, Barry’s been a great host but what do ya say we-”

He froze. You both heard it. A car pulled up outside.

Eddie hit the deck and motioned for you to copy him. You both crawled along the floor until you got to a window, hiding under it so nobody could see you if they looked in.

“Barry! Where’s the check, Barry?!”

A woman yelled for a minute, switching between cuss words and accusations. Apparently, Barry had been a bad cowboy and not paid alimony. After a promise to return with the police, you and Eddie quickly gathered your belongings and headed out the door.

“Fuck… She slashed a tire.”

You looked at it. She sure did. “Seemed justified,” you commented.

Eddie was in the back of the van throwing things out onto the dirt and gravel. “There’s a spare! Kinda surprising, knowing Barry as we do,” Eddie announced, reappearing with a smirk on his face.

“Do you know how to change it?”

“Do I know- Yes, Y/N, I know how to change a tire,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. He fished around in the van some more looking for tools and a jack. When he had all he needed, he got to work. “I can change this in seven minutes flat,”

“Really?”

“Time me,”

“I believe you,” you assured him.

Although you didn’t time him, it seemed like less than seven minutes later you were back on the road.

“We can stop for breakfast, but we better get clear of town first. Can’t have the van recognised, you know?”

You nodded. You couldn’t change a tire but you knew all about fleeing the scene and about disappearing across the state border. About bleach and acid.

“So… I need to go home,”

“Where’s home?” you asked, forgetting his reaction the last time you enquired.

“Small shitty down in Indiana. Hawkins. Where did you say you were headed?”

“Iowa… I’m looking for my dad. He’s somewhere there, west of Cedar Rapids apparently,”

“Are you in a hurry?” Eddie asked.

You had never had a friend. Not really. Sherry would have been the closest thing, if you hadn’t tried to eat her friend alive. What did friendship feel like? Was it the tingle in the tips of your fingers as you sat in the van with Eddie? Was it the warm and terrifying feeling of hope that you were so skilled at keeping under wraps? 

You shook your head.

“I have to go back, even just for a couple hours. Then I can take you where you need to go. It’s a lot of driving, but… I don’t know. I’m up for it, if you are.”

Is this what friendship felt like?

Two hours later you stopped at a roadside diner. Eddie ordered waffles and bacon, and you had pancakes and hashbrown. The waitress was kind, if not a bit of a stereotype. Everyone was though in midwest America. People knew their role and played it well, something you were jealous of.

Eddie gulped coffee like it was water, big mouthfuls going down easy. He chewed on bacon quickly, as if someone was going to come and take his plate away if he didn’t eat fast enough.

“You seemed more intimidating last night,” you mused.

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, well, when you’re a long-haired freak in this part of the country, you gotta have a big attitude.”

It made sense. You thought over what that implied, that the attitude was a shield. It protected the softness of who Eddie really was from the harshness of reality.

“So… How many others have you met?” you asked.

“Just you,”

“Oh… You… you made it sound like you knew others,”

“Did I?” Eddie replied, frowning. “What about you? What was the other one like?”

It shouldn’t have made you feel special that he remembered you saying you’d only just met your first. But, it did.

“He was old… Not old old. Just like, older than our parents old? His name was Sully,” you told him. “He was… nice… He, ah, said he could smell when someone’s about to die,”

“You believed him?”

That’s when you told Eddie about Lydia. Sully’s invitation. How you couldn’t smell it coming, but when it came the air grew heavy and you knew. About sharing her and the carrot cake. About the rope of human hair.

“Jesus… That’s a choice. You don’t have to be like that,”

“I think he was trying to help me. Trying to be kind?”

“I profoundly doubt that,” Eddie said with a scoff. He looked up to see the dismay on your face. “Does it help? To remember their names?”

“What?”

“Lydia Harmon. I bet you remember all their names. Does it help?”

Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. (Kim almost.) Lydia. (Andy almost.) Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. Lydia. Penny. Luke. Dmitri. Kevin. Marcus. Noble. CJ. Jamie. Lydia.

How dare he see you.

“Does it help to take their stuff?” you countered.

Eddie had taken the cowboy’s hat. It was still out in the van, but it was there. The floral button up shirt wasn’t Eddie’s. Neither was the heart locker around his neck. There were probably more things in his collection.

Eddie’s face remained steely. He picked up his last piece of bacon and began to chew it.

“Is your dad one of us? That why you’re looking for him?” he asked, a brutal change in subject designed to avoid your question.

“I think so,” you answered. “So, why are you going home?”

“Keeping a promise,” he answered. “There’s this kid, she lives opposite my uncle in the trailer park. Max. She’s a good kid that’s been handed a really fucking shitty hand. She’s going for her driver’s test so I promised I’d take her for a lesson,”

“She’s kind of like a sister?”

“I guess… I just… I promised her.”

You nodded and resisted the urge to call him sweet. “That’s… really nice of you,”

“I am nice,” Eddie replied, sucking the bacon fat off his thumb.

“You seem it,”

“Do I?”

It felt like you were playing a game you didn’t quite know the rules to you. Eddie watched you for a moment before declaring he was going to the bathroom, disappearing quickly.

Back on the road, Eddie mapped out a route to Hawkins that included a brief stop to get a new spare tire. You sat on the bench outside the mechanics listening to Eddie talk to the man in blue canvas overalls.

“Smart… Should always have a spare,” the man said. “Wish my boy was like you.”

Eddie hid a blush and hoped you weren’t in earshot. “Nah, man… You really don’t… I was actually looking for a spare set of something else?”

The man had seen many runaways and outlaws come through his shop. He motioned for Eddie to follow him out the back. They were gone for a little while, and you held your breath when you heard Eddie call out your name.

As he came around the corner, not a drop of red in sight, you exhaled. Eddie caught it and his face dropped.

“I didn’t-” you tried, launching yourself off the bench and towards Eddie.

He held his hands up defensively. “It’s fine… I know I what I am.” There was utter misery in his tone.

“What we are,” you corrected. “Whatever’s… in you… It’s in me too.”

The sadness dissipated and was replaced with a small kind of surprise. Eddie’s head cocked to the side and his eyes grew a little wider than usual.

“Alright. Gimme fifteen,” the man in the overall said, walking back into the shop. “Sorry, there’s not much to do ‘round here,”

“S’fine. Thank you,” Eddie replied to him but didn’t take his eyes off you.

After a few more lingering moments, Eddie nodded to the bench and you both sat down with your sides pressed against each other. Eddie’s hand sat on his thigh, palm up. You knew it was an invitation but were too afraid to just reach out and take it.

It felt like an eternity of waiting. You stared at Eddie’s hand, studied the lines of his palms like you knew how to read them. After only a minute on the bench, you slowly moved your hand to your own leg and copied his position. Bolder than you, Eddie threaded his fingers through yours, killing any doubt and all the tension. Waiting was easier after that.

Hours later, back on the road with a spare and new number plates, Eddie said, “We should probably call it for the day.” The sun was low on the horizon and stars had begun to twinkle against the deep blue. “There’s a state park entrance just up a bit. We can stop there.”

Parked in the shadows, you opened all the doors to the van and did a stocktake of what you had in the way of supplies. Eddie found a plastic bag shoved under one of the seats and it was quickly filled with trash. You still had the can of chickpeas and chocolate bar, and half a bottle of water. Eddie had a lot of beef jerky, an apple, soup mix packets, a bottle of warm iced tea, and the dregs of a bottle of water.

“Not bad,” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Had worse,” you agreed.

In the back of the van there were empty cardboard boxes, a toolset, a very old sleeping bag with a broken zip, and a jug of something that was probably water but neither of you wanted to gamble on. The floor was carpeted, but it was a poorly achieved job. Eddie pulled at the corner until he was ripping it out entirely.

“What are you doing?” you asked, stumbling out of the way. “Won’t it be warmer with that in there?”

“Yeah, but we can flatten these boxes and put ‘em down first. You know, for insulation. Besides, this carpet smells like something died on it. And I should know.”

Quasi-cannibal humour. You laughed.

After vigorously shaking the living shit out of the carpet, Eddie laid it back down on top of the boxes you’d crushed. The sleeping bag, plastic side down - fabric side up, was next.

“No blankets but if we close the doors we might not freeze to death,” Eddie said. It was good enough for you.

Eddie immediately began on the second task, dinner. You watched him open his duffle bag and draw out all sorts of useful things. A torch, a tin pot and two tin mugs, and a tiny propane camp stove. He must have seen the look on your face.

“Once you find yourself alone out here without the things you need, you get practical pretty fast,” he explained, then pulled a Bic lighter out from where you spied a collection of them shoved under clothes in his bag.

After a dinner of soup beefed out with jerky and chickpeas, and you split the chocolate bar in two and moved to settle yourself in the back of the van on the makeshift bed. You thought about re-reading your mother’s letter, but the hum of cicadas and the smell of the forest was too magic to ruin. 

Eddie cleaned up and packed everything away, seemingly happy to have a distraction.

“What do you normally do when you’re out here alone?” you asked.

He glanced at you, a small twist of a smile on his lips.

“That’s not what I meant,” you clarified.

Eddie chuckled. “I, ah, read. Mostly.” He opened his duffle to you and tilted it so you could see the books in there. He must have been stronger than he looked, you thought, carrying that Mary Poppins bag of tricks around.

“We could trade,” you offered, showing him the little library in your backpack.

You looked at each other again. A knowing look, but free from the accusation that came with your mother’s own knowing.

When there were no more tasks for Eddie, he joined you in the van. You both pulled on extra socks and jackets, then laid on your sides facing each other. Duffels and backpacks for pillows, all in all, it wasn’t too bad.

“We’ll get supplies after Hawkins,”

“Probably a good idea,” you agreed. The silence after wasn’t awkward, but you had so many questions that you couldn’t let it linger. Eddie bet you to it though.

“Who was your first?”

“Sully asked me that too… It was my babysitter,” you answered.

“Me too,”

“Really? I guess it makes sense…”

The conversation turned to eating. Sully’s rule – don’t eat an eater. Were there other rules? Were there things not meant to be eaten… like bones and nails? Were there people not meant to be eaten? Mothers? Priests?

“You said you’d never met another… Does that mean there was nobody in your family like you?” you asked.

Eddie chewed his lip, considering his reply. “I don’t know shit about my parents. Dad ran out on us when I was a kid. Mum not long after. Raised by my uncle,”

“Does he know?”

“No… Well, I mean… Not really. He knows… something. He’s a good man. Deserves better than… all this.”

A normal person in a normal conversation would say something like ‘Oh, no, Eddie. I am sure you’re a wonderful nephew! You’re a good person!’ But that would be bullshit and you’d both know it. You just nodded, understanding.

“Do you just wanna read for a bit?” Eddie asked. “We’ve just got… ah, the one torch. But, I, I thought I could read to you. If that’s not, um, super lame?”

“Have you read The Lord of the Rings?”

Eddie smiled wide, took a dramatic breath in, and recited, “Home is behind, the world ahead,

and there are many paths to tread

through shadows to the of night,

until the stars are all alight.”

Your stomach flipped and your nose tingled. “I love Tolkien,” you whispered, sounding stoned or dumb.

“Me too. Don’t get too impressed. I can’t quote the whole thing. I remember the poems okay because they’re almost like lyrics, you know?”

“Lots of them are, in the books. They’re songs,”

“Yeah, exactly. Musician head, you know?” he said, motioning to his general head area.

“You’re a musician?”

“Um. That might have been too generous. I play guitar,” Eddie told you. The tone of his voice made it clear that he missed the instrument.

You tried to picture him playing. You imagined him with an electric guitar first. Metallica and heavy metal and all that. But then, the softness in him did lend itself to an acoustic. He had both, you decided.

Eddie was watching you, trying to figure out what your reaction to him being a guitarist was. When you said nothing, just looked a little lost in thought, he cleared his throat.

“So, to the Shire?”

End Note: She actually reads Tolkien in the novel/film. Honestly. This just writes itself.

Fic Taglist: @harrys-tittie @azydrateanatomy @pussy-drunk @mrsdollardog

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/You #Bones and All #Bones and All AU

[kitkatt0430]

Arranged Marriage AU with a twist

Barry is planning to propose to his girlfriend Iris when it comes out that his parents apparently arranged a marriage for him as a child to someone else. Eobard Thawne, whom Barry knows vaguely from university.

Given this is AU land, it doesn't matter that Barry and Iris want to marry, the arranged marriage is basically considered as good as legally binding despite the wedding not being performed yet. It's a social thing - technically Barry could marry Iris anyway, but it would severely ruin their reputations and would follow them the rest of their lives. Arranged marriages aren't as popular anymore so the consequences might not be as bad, but Barry is hesitant to put Iris through that kind of shame and Iris is hesitant to ask it of Barry too because each wants the other to have happy, successful lives... even if it's not together.

So Barry gives Eobard a chance to court him. There is still a way out, if Eobard behaves towards Barry in a violent or emotionally abusive way. But Eobard seems to be a perfect gentleman and while Barry doesn't develop any romantic feelings towards him, he does come to like him as a person. Meanwhile Eobard's cousin, Eddie, falls for Iris and asks for the opportunity to court her. He's kind of the family black sheep for going into 'common work' as a police detective, but he's kind and friendly and, despite herself, Iris starts to fall for him too.

And while Barry doesn't get to spend as much time with Eddie as Iris gets to... Barry gets what Iris sees in Eddie because he sees it too. Which isn't so great because he should be trying to see that in Eobard and instead is falling for the wrong Thawne cousin. Whoops.

Eddie, of course, is aware that Barry and Iris are in love and it's only the repercussions of their too-rigid social system that's keeping them apart. And, well, he's rather suspicious of Eobard's sudden arranged marriage that came out of nowhere to someone Eddie is pretty damn certain his snooty aunt and uncle would never have considered before they died. And he digs into things and discovers it is a fake. Which... leaves Eddie with a dilemma.

Say nothing and he could potentially spend the rest of his life with Iris who seems amenable to eventually marrying him. But that leaves Barry in a marriage with someone he doesn't love and who likely has nefarious designs for Barry of some kind. And... even if Barry were safe with Eobard - Eddie heavily suspects not, but even if... Eddie knows in his heart he could never deceive Iris like that. Not and live with it after. And... he does care deeply about Barry's happiness too.

So Eddie comes forward and reveals Eobard's deception. The Thawne family as a whole owes Barry some sort of restitution as a result and Eobard goes off to sulk/plot to avoid the legal ramifications. After throwing a fit over how Barry was the only one for him and he would have him or no one would. A bit concerning, really. Eddie tells Iris he doesn't expect her to continue courting him when the man she really wants to spend her life with can be hers and... leaves while everything is in a bit of disarray, really.

Barry and Iris are happy to be reunited and that they can now marry if they want... but Iris is also in love with Eddie... and so is Barry. They approach Eddie together, as a united front, to ask him to join their courtship as an equal partner.

Eddie is pretty sure Eobard is going to try and murder him for this and says yes anyway. He's lived his life in cousin Eobard's shadow. So he's quite ready to bask in Barry and Iris' light for as long as they'll have him.

#fic ideas #fanfiction #the flash #barry allen #iris west #eddie thawne #eobard thawne #barry x iris #iris x eddie #barry x eddie x iris #eobard x barry

[pinefem]

Can we just like, talk about the bad/non-existent representation we have for female characters? I grew up with it. I lived with it. It's a big reason why I began to identify as trans and distance myself from other women. The influences are still with me.

I woke up this morning and remembered when I was younger and my favourite character was Spock and my favourite thing was werewolves, and I wished I could have a female character like Spock, or a female werewolf that was actually well written, and I could never find it. Obsession after obsession with male characters, and I eventually lost any interest I had in female characters, because simply put, most are boring. Most are given no personality beyond loving men and makeup. Most women in shows are plot devices to advance the stories of the male protagonists, often to uncomfortable degrees, though no one realizes it. It's not overt, not something that's shouted from rooftops. It's just a pattern. Women just fade into the background, to serve as nothing but supports, and it's normal to us. Fictional women are written like that, and young, aspiring writers learn to write their women like that too. It's a cycle which goes on and on and on.

Now for some examples... The show I am currently watching is the Flash. Spoilers ahead! So. Does it have some strong, interesting female characters? Yeah! Caitlyn Snow, Lisa Snart, and yeah, Iris. Those characters had so much potential, but instead all the standouts are men. Harrison Wells got to be the sinister, merciless villain, then the dickish genius, and the goofy phony. Snart gets to be a villain who has a heart of gold, and a soft spot for his sister. Eddie gets to be the clearheaded one who's dragged into it against his will but sacrifices himself anyway. Cisco is adorable. He's funny, charming, and he cares for others. Generally a great, funny guy. On the other hand, Caitlyn is a bit guarded, sure, but her main personality trait is missing her fiance. Lisa Snart acts dumb and sexy to get what she wants. Iris' main purpose is being Barry's best friend. Yes, plenty of women have and care for boyfriends and it's not wrong to write a story about a woman pining for a man, but most women have personality traits beyond that. I also think that it's just cheap. Men aren't written to only care about their partners. Actually, a lot of the men in the Flash don't have partners. Even if they do, they are their own people away from them. They always have something else going on. So... Yeah the women aren't written well, but that's something you only notice if you're looking. This is something which is not limited to the Flash. It is a very very common pattern, which can be found in most TV shows made for older audiences. Comtrary to popular belief, it is not normal or okay.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Arcane. This is the one show I've watched in which female characters take the forefront. In fact, I think Arcane opened my eyes to a lot of the male centrism in TV shows that I'd previously missed. I didn't know what I was missing until I saw Arcane, but it feels right. There are female-only fight scenes which are straight up messy brawls. The story doesn't center men at all and it is amazing. I didn't even really know how good female characters could be until I watched Arcane, but it's one of a kind. Most women are not written like that, and going back to other shows, you see it.

These influences are all so subtle, but if you see bad female characters over and over again, you never learn to write them in any other way, unfortunately. That is still with me. I'm still working to write female characters which don't fall into the familiar grooves of sexism in the media. I'm still working to find the same passion for female characters that I have for male characters. It's hard, but possible. I encourage other women to keep an eye out for it. Stop telling yourself that female characters are just less interesting. Stop ignoring it when women serve as nothing but support systems for men. Stop thinking it's unrealistic for women to be written like male characters. Stop letting it just be okay, and get mad about it. Get upset. Break the cycle. People will tell you it's okay, but it's not. Women deserve representation. You can think that.

#female representation #terf safe #writing #radical feminist #terfs welcome #radfem #radical feminists do interact #terfs do interact #tv shows #female characters

[weclassybouquetfun]

The End is the Beginning is the End. We put the Golden Globes back in the doghouse and look forward to the last batch of awards shows to close out the film awards season. The SAG awards nominations were announced today, the BAFTAs will be announced on Jan. 19th and the Oscars on Jan. 24th so there will be more fashion to look forward to. I hope those red carpet looks will be more impressive than the Golden Globes.

Donald Glover in Saint Laurent *Best dressed man of the night. No competition. Suave, sexy, love the moustache. The entire look is gold.

Diego Calva in Gucci *Second favourite male look of the night. I adore it! It has a retro vibe which is fitting as he's the star of BABYLON. Love the cut and colour. He looks amazing.

Laverne Cox in John Galliano *I was saying during last year's award season how former awards staples Marchesa (Georgina Chapman, former wife of Harvey Weinstein) and John Galliano will never seemingly be embraced again, and while it is not a new design as Galliano is still in Designer Jail, Cox reached back in the vault for this vintage Galliano gown and it's the best she's ever looked. She looks sensational.

Lily James in Versace *One thing Lily James is going to do besides have an affair with her costar, is look great on the red carpet.

Angela Bassett in Pamella Roland. *Love this quasi nod to Old Hollywood look. Very glam.

Barry Keoghan in Louis Vuitton *I'm torn about the neckerchief/bow tie gone wrong, so it must mean in my heart of hearts that I like it. The look gives me Guy-Running-From-the-Garda-Runs-Into-Costume-Shop-And-Puts-On-Bullfighter-Costume.

Rihanna in Schiaparelli Couture.

*Bad Girl Ri-Ri didn't walk the red carpet and could, seemingly, be seen exiting the event early after congratulating her competition, MM Keeravani whose "Naatu, Naatu" won.

MORE FASHION

Billy Porter in Christian Siriano

Ayo Edebiri in Rosie Assoulin *Now she knows those gloves are a mistake. It's like when Andre Leon Talley (RIP) dressed Jennifer Hudson the year she won her Oscar and gave her a great dress with pockets (yes) but put her in a bolero (no).

Letitia Wright in Prada

Ana de Armas in Louis Vuitton

Newly married Anya Taylor Joy in Dior

Jenna Ortega in Gucci *That's too much dress. In consideration of her height everything should have been shorter - hem, sleeves. It would have been even better to modify it to a sleeveless dress. Her hair colour looks great with the dress, though.

Jeremy Pope

Jessica Chastain in Oscar de la Renta *This dress is like the film THE GOOD NURSE. Good, but basic.

Eddie Redmayne in Valentino *He's looking as if he just caught his reflection and wondered WTF his stylist was on to put that on him. The flower should be burned and it would have been nice if he had on black shoes to not look so monochromatic and the pants are too long. The only brown clothes he needs to be in is Thom Browne.

Niecy Nash in Dolce & Gabbana *People should just embrace capes and go. This puffy floor length wrap nonsense is for the birds. The plum-colour dress is gorgeous and the wrap just distracts.

Margot Robbie in Chanel *Please get this woman a better stylist. Someone adventurous; someone to take her out her comfort zone. Nice dress, but underwhelming.

Sheryl Lee Ralph in Aliette. *My favourite female look of the night. Colourful, hair fits the look.

Britt Lower in Bach Mai

Bailey Bass (AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER and the fantastic INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (AMC+) in Dior *It's a great dress for sure - though I wish it was either an empire waist or it was a two-piece with the top being a corset, but barring that, I wish she would have gone with how her hair is in IWTV. If she wore her naturally curly hair it would look so great framing her face.

Viola Davis in Jason Wu

Michelle Yeoh in Armani Prive *Exquisite.

Salma Hayek in Gucci *Of all the Gucci designs at her disposal she went with this??? I have seen her in some insanely incredible Gucci designs over the years so the fact that she wore something so relatively matronly offends me.

Michelle Williams in Gucci *Oh jayzus. What a disaster. It's THE SON of dresses.

Pregnant Claire Danes in Giambattista Valli *I'm guessing she left the house forgetting that she was wrapped up in her quilt.

Andrew Garfield in Zegna *Love the colour. I'm disappointed because I mistook the overly long psudeo-tie for a sash and thought there was some creative flair to the look. No such luck.

Tyler James Williams in Amiri *He gets 10 points for not being boring. Do I love that he looks like he just come out of the rain (and considering it's been storming here for two days, maybe he did), but I love the wide legs trousers and jacket.

Emma D'Arcy in Acne Studios

Michaela Jae Rodriguez in Balmain

#fashion #red carpet fashion #red carpet style #awards season #celebrities #long post #barry keoghan #donald glover #diego calva #laverne cox #angela bassett #michelle yeoh #emma darcy #tyler james williams #jeremy pope #golden globes #golden globes 2023 #eddie redmayne #salma hayek #anya taylor joy #rihanna

[avatarskywalker78]

Fandom meta asks for Steph?

What do you think the fandom for your character would be like? Are they a fan favorite, a love to hate villain, derided for whatever reason, or something else?

I like to think she'd be a fan favourite because she's a female superhero and a woman in STEM, and especially since she does have some adorkable moments and is actually doing something to help metas, even those are criminals, and is actually a good friend to Team Flash.

What feelings does your character most often instill in their fans? Affection? A desire to protect? Open lust? A love/hate dynamic? Why do you think their fans feel this way?

Hopefully affection and a desire to protect, because she does take a lot on herself for the sake of other people and feels terribly guilty when she fails to protect someone - even if the circumstances were out of her control.

By contrast, what would their haters dislike about your character? Is it a petty complaint? A mischaracterization of the character or their intentions? Are they just a woman in a largely male-centric series?

The fact that she's ace would be one of the main sticking points, plus the sexists assholes who hate any woman with a major role (or a minor role if we're honest), plus the fact that she's in love with Eddie would annoy the Thallen shippers - given how slash fans tend to react to any woman near their ship, and the fact that she's fine with it not being returned would be ignored.

What controversies/drama would your character incite in fandom?

Again, the fact that she's ace, plus the fact that she is willing to call out any character on their bullshit - including Joe and Barry, multiple times, and again, shipping drama (shipping drama is terrifying), plus the fact that she's willing to reach out to criminal metas - while some would like it, I've often noticed a general trend in fandom where people preach about liking redemption arcs, but can't seem to stand when a villainous character actually has one, so anyone willing to give a second chance to people would be quite infuriating to people.

What fan-material would exist for your character in fandom?

I imagine a lot of fanart, as there's some good and dramatic moments in Part 1 and there's going to be even more in Parts 2 and 3.

Is your character the subject of ‘imagines’ or ‘x reader’ style blogs?

Unfortunately.

Are there any tropes fandom would put upon your character, for better or for worse?

Definitely the role of the 'Mom Friend', given her mentorship of younger characters and her way of being no-nonsense but also compassionate - even though she isn't, nor is she willing to put up with antics or clear up people's messes or wanting to constantly herd other characters to behave or anything like that.

What would be the ‘incorrect but wildly popular’ interpretation of your character in fandom?

Probably that she's in a lot more angst over her unrequited feelings for Eddie than she actually is, because my god that is practically catnip to fans - like you're never far from an unrequited feelings fic in any fandom, so there would definitely be some here.

What corners of fandom would consider your character blorbo material?

I'm going to be honest and say that I'm not entirely sure.

OC ask game

#Answering my asks #Thanks for asking! #The Shieldmaiden Saga #OC ask game #oc: steph taylor

[cheryls-blossomed]

Yeah Barry stopped playing nice when Eddie was talking that nonsense. Barry was like that life ain’t yours man, it’s mine. Seems like he started getting pushed when he said Iris isn’t your wife, Nora isn’t your daughter but got all the way pissed when Eddie said there’s supposed to be. Gloves came off then. Barry has always known that Iris was meant for him even back then and the Barry now understands without any doubt that even if Eddie hadn’t died Iris was still going to end up with him. What do you think of Barry saying what would Iris want you to do? I’m not sure that was the right thing to say. That seem to crush Eddie even more. Had him seeking her out. I wonder if he felt that Barry was trying trying to keep Iris from him. I’m just surprised because he felt their connection in season 1, he was just in denial about what he saw between the two of them because he wanted Iris for himself

That's another thing that I've always loved - Barry always knew that he and Iris were IT for each other, and you really see his maturity regarding this as the show goes on, which I do so love.

I don't think Barry handled that whole interaction with Eddie in the West House all that well and that's partly why I actually really liked that scene. Like emotions are high, and also, in Barry's defense, I think it's really hard to know what to say to Eddie when he's clearly being affected by the Negative Speed Force and is spewing delusions. Again, I think Barry can pep-talk literally anybody, but the moment someone breathes the wrong way at Iris, the gloves come off, and Barry loses his temper. It's why I go back to the juxtaposition of how he handled his interactions with Eva versus other villains: he didn't even want to hear anything she said, because she had tortured and trapped Iris. So, in line with that, I think once Eddie was spewing his delusions about Iris and Nora, Barry lost his temper and also lost his patience. However, Barry does seem to get through to Eddie a little when he says, "What would Iris want you to do?" Eddie seems more conflicted after that, and I do think he was trying to fight off the Negative Speed Force, but is fully corrupted when that photo changes in the West-Allen loft.

Basically, I feel like Eddie was a lost cause; the Negative Speed Force was always going to win him over. No matter what Barry or Iris said to him in that episode... nothing was going to land, unfortunately, which is why I'm glad their scenes with him were not wasted with them constantly trying to get through to him, but centered on them telling him some truths that he needed to hear.

I think in season 1, Eddie actively tried ignoring what was going on with Barry and Iris and how deep their connection was, and throughout the season, we saw him make comments about it. I think he was in denial until he no longer could be in denial, basically.

#anonymous #replies

[afaimsarrowverse]

The Flash 9x12-Fix-It

2023, StarLabs:

Mark:  While I was possed by the Negative Speed Force all I could do was think about how much I love Barry. Too bad no one thought of making a plot device to get free out of this....

Cecile: Mhm...

Cecile project hers mind into her 2049 body. She runs to Barry, who is fighting Negative Speed Force possesed Nora West-Allen.

Cecile: Nora, remember how much you love your dad! Here, I will show you. (uses her powers)

Nora: Ohhh.... (The Negative Speed Force leaves her) It’s gone. Where ... oh, no, it wants Eddie. Dad, I am so sorry, but you have to....

Barry: Got you. I am on my way.

West-Allen Loft, 2049

Iris: It’s Barry, it has always been Barry, even when I didn’t know it.

Eddie (clearly not happy with this answer): No, you are lying. You loved me, I know it!

Iris: I am sorry, Eddie.

Barry arrives at the scene only to see Eddie leave. He follows him and sees him holding the Crytsal.

Barry:  Eddie!

Eddie: You are too late, Barry. Iris told me the truth. She never loved me. I died for nothing, he came back and killed even more people. And I am only alive now, because the Negative Speed Force wants me to live. I have to say yes, it’s all I have left. It’s either that or death.

Barry: No, Eddie, we can help you. I will find a way to save you. And you are wrong, Iris did love you. And she is not the only one. Barry surges forward and kisses Eddie.

The Crystal in his hand shatters.

Both men look at the shards.

Eddie: I am not the avatar it wanted after all it seems.

Barry: Please, tell me it is dead, now. Or did it go and seek out Eobard again instead? Because ... I don’t want to have to kiss him too. I am not sure that would do the trick. I was never really sure what he really wanted from me...

Eddie: But you thought I wanted to kiss you?

Barry just looks at him.

Eddie: Okay, fine, you caught me. What now?

Barry: Now we go home. Iris is in labour. She needs us. I am pretty sure none of the others have the decency to actually stick around, so she is probably alone right now.

Eddie: She wasn’t thrilled to see me in 2049, what makes you think she will want to see me in 2023?

Barry: Future-Iris is kind of a bitch most of the time. Actually Future-Everyone is a bitch most of the time. Why do you think my kids spend so much time with in the past with us? Future-Team Flash sucks, that is why. Nora can come with us, just in case the Negative Speed Force trys something. And so she can kiss Eobard, when he shows up. She is lesbian, but he still loves her, so that would be fine.

Eddie: ... You life has become kind of weird since I died, you know?

Barry: Believe me, you have no idea.

#Mini-Fic #The Flash #The Flash Season 9 #A New World Part 3 #Thallen #Westhallen