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shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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mnemosyne-musing · 3 years

Text

there’s a magic surrounds you (river/11)

prompt from claire (@tinkerbellxoxo) : Amy remembers how her friend Mels got her and Rory to share a kiss on New Year’s and wants to do the same for her new friend river and the doctor - I have changed this slightly but hope you enjoy!

Here on ao3

The Doctor bounded enthusiastically down the stairs as the TARDIS landed, throwing a grin over his shoulder at Amy and Rory who were following him at a more sedate pace. He had just picked them up from their honeymoon, disaster averted at the final moment, and had promised them one final trip just to make up for the whole near-death experience before he dropped them home.

“Here we are!” The Doctor threw the TARDIS door open with a flourish and gestured for them to go out first, “Don’t say I never deliver on my promises, eh!”

“Doctor, you literally just had to rescue us from a crashing spaceship on our honeymoon,” Rory pointed out.

“Ah,” the Doctor held up a finger triumphantly, “But you didn’t crash, did you!”

Amy rolled her eyes as she stepped out the door, taking in the celebrations going on that they’d arrived in the middle of. “So,” she turned back to face the Doctor, raising an eyebrow at him, “You’ve brought us to a party?”

He grinned back at her as he followed them out the TARDIS. “Not just any party, Pond!”

“Oh really?”

“Nope!” he rocked back on his heels, looking very pleased with himself, “This is Vantis VII. Human colony. Very normal. But,” he held up a finger excitedly, “They do have an unusual orbit around their suns. Not quite spherical you see and it messes up their calendar. It can’t quite fit into the usual Earth year.”

“So?” Amy shrugged as she looked around.

“So!” the Doctor continued, “Every eleven years or so they correct the calendar by having one extra long night at New Year’s and making it a huge party. And,” he spun around on the spot, gesturing around him, “That’s where we are tonight!”

“Good, eh?!” he grinned at them both.

Amy glanced up at Rory, biting back a grin before nodding and looping an arm through both his and the Doctor’s, leading them into the crowd. “Not bad Raggedy-man, not bad.”

The party was indeed quite spectacular. There was free-flowing booze, all sorts of fantastic food, a swing band of intergalactic fame and even a small theme park within the grounds of the huge stately home where the party was being held. A few hours after they arrived, Amy dragged the Doctor from the dancefloor where he was terrorising some locals with his version of the Macarena. She grabbed his arm and steered them both in the direction of the nearest bar. Rory had disappeared a little while ago trying to locate the nearest toilets.

“Come on, I think I need at least another glass of champagne after witnessing that,” she quipped as he protested loudly.

With alarming expertise, Amy elbowed her way to the front of the crowd at the bar and commandeered herself a free bar stool.

“So,” she said, resting her elbows casually on the bar once they had their drinks, “Who are you going to snog at midnight then?”

Unfortunately for him, the Doctor had just taken a large swig of his brightly coloured drink at that very moment which he then promptly choked on.

Smothering a grin as she slapped him on the back, Amy watched in amusement as he tried to regain his composure.

“Snog?” he managed to gasp after a few moments, “What?! Why would I want to snog anyone?”

Amy shrugged. “It’s what you do at midnight at New Year isn’t it?”

“Is it?!” he exclaimed, almost flailing himself off his stool in shock.

“Oh yes, it’s a time-honoured tradition,” Amy explained with a grin, “You know Rory and I almost had our first kiss at New Year.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah. Before we got together,” Amy explained, “My friend Mels dared us to snog. Which, come to think of it, was probably her trying to set us up…”

“What happened?” the Doctor asked as she trailed off contemplatively.

“Oh,” Amy looked slightly sheepish, “I’d had a bit too much sambuca and had to be taken home by ten o’clock.”

“Urgh, you humans,” he shuddered in mock distaste as he took a sip of his drink through the straw, “Snogging and sambuca. Remind me why I keep you around?”

Amy rolled her eyes and gave his shoulder a shove as he grinned at her over the rim of his glass. She waited til he had swallowed his drink this time before adding. “Sure you wouldn’t want a midnight snog with River?”

“What?” the Doctor squeaked, his voice coming out entirely too high for his liking, this time very grateful that he didn’t have a mouthful of cocktail that would have inevitably ended up sprayed all over the bar.

“Oh, don’t play all coy with me alien boy,” Amy gave him a sly smirk, “I saw you checking her out in that Cleopatra costume.”

“Checking her out?” he spluttered as he felt a blush spreading over his cheeks, “I was not. I was just- just admiring her outfit that’s all.”

Amy snorted softly into her drink as he glared at her. “Yeah right, sure you were.”

The Doctor felt the tips of his ears turn red as he quickly took a large gulp of his own drink. He had been admiring her costume. It wasn’t his fault if said costume had only highlighted River’s- well, certain assets of hers that previously he hadn’t spent much time thinking about but that may or may not have invaded his dreams on a couple of occasions since then.

Looking around desperately as Amy opened her mouth again, he spotted Rory heading towards them and leapt up from his stool with a sigh of relief.

“Rory!” he exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder as the other man approached them, “The Roman! Have you found the coconut shy yet? Well, they call them coconuts, but- No? Brilliant! Let’s go!” He steered Rory around before he could sit down and began to march him off in the other direction, purposefully ignoring the knowing smirk of a certain Amelia Pond.

A little while later, the Doctor found himself alone. Amy and Rory had disappeared a little while ago, telling him they would find him before the countdown to midnight. He had hung around by the bar for a while, drinking a few of these rather moreish concoctions before he decided to take a stroll in the gardens and was now looking at the rather elaborate ice sculptures that adorned the lawns.

He was currently peering up at one in the shape of a large swan. Or, at least, he thought it was supposed to be a swan but it was rather confusing as it seemed to have two necks. Which was odd. Swans didn’t normally have two necks. At least not in this part of the galaxy.

Mumbling to himself about the possibility of alien swans, he turned round and almost collided with someone else who was standing in the path beside him. Stumbling slightly, he flung an arm out to steady them at the same time as they did and ended up embracing someone who was all soft curves and hair.

“Oh, gosh I am so sorry, I didn’t-,“ he started in surprise as he caught a proper look at her, “Marilyn?” he frowned in confusion, his eyes raking over the blonde hair and face of the woman in front of him, “But, what are you doing here- I just saw you, at that party. In 1952.”

The woman in front of him simply laughed. “Costume party, sweetie, it’s not really-”

“Sweetie?” the Doctor interrupted, his voice sounding a bit slurred as he peered slightly blearily at her face, “No- you can’t call me that. That’s not for- I mean, that’s just what-” he trailed off as he stumbled over what he wanted to say. Saying it out loud did sound a bit ridiculous. Just because that was what River called him, didn’t mean no one else could call him that. But still…

“Doctor, are you- are you drunk?” Marilyn, or whoever she was, asked slightly incredulously as she looked closely at him.

“Drunk? Ha!” he scoffed, “No! I’ve been drinking these,” he held out his near-empty glass to her, “Tastes like strawberry. Delicious!”

Marilyn took a tentative sip as he smacked his lips and grinned at her. “Doctor, there’s Venusian vodka in this cocktail!” she exclaimed, returning his glass to him which he promptly drained and then flung dramatically over his shoulder.

“Oh, well that’s fine,” he shrugged, still grinning stupidly at her, “Alcohol doesn’t affect me. Time Lord physiology y’know,” he gestured grandly with his hand and nearly managed to smack her in the face.

“Oh, believe me, sweetie, this one really does,” Marilyn murmured as she dodged his flailing limbs, biting her lip and eyeing him with renewed interest, “Really dulls those Time Lord senses,” she added half to herself.

“Pah,” he dismissed, trying to lean casually against the ice sculpture, “I feel fine,” which was mostly true. He did feel great. His vision might have been a little bit blurry at the edges and it sort of felt like the ground might be swaying at times but really, he was basically fine. “So,” he asked, feeling his shoulder slide ominously against the ice, “What are you doing out here?”

She gave him a small smirk, raising an eyebrow knowingly as he finally managed to prop himself up on the ice. “Same as you,” she replied, “Taking a walk. Admiring the view. Hoping to find a handsome stranger to kiss at midnight.”

She winked at him as she spoke and he just grinned at her for a moment until the meaning of her words sunk in. “Oh, what? No, no. I wasn’t- “ he managed to splutter, suddenly jerking upright as she swayed towards him.

“Wasn’t what?” she asked oh-so-innocently as she moved closer, reaching out with one hand to smooth his bowtie before letting her fingers trail slightly less innocently down his chest.

The Doctor gulped nervously as her nails clicked against his shirt buttons, suddenly feeling that the whole tone of their conversation had changed and he wasn’t quite keeping up.

“Do you want to kiss me, Doctor?” she whispered, looking up at him coyly and moving closer still so he could feel the heat from her body, her gaze dropping to his mouth as she bit her bottom lip enticingly.

“No!” he exclaimed, jumping back slightly, “I mean, yes, of course,” he corrected quickly as he saw her face fall, “You seem very- umm, lovely. But, you see, there’s sort of- this- this thing. Well, it’s not a thing. At least, not yet from my perspective. It is from hers. I think. Probably- Anyway- .”

For some reason, his answer seemed to appease her as a look of relief passed briefly over her face before she looked up at him appraisingly.

“You want to kiss her at midnight then?” she asked softly, for some reason a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Blimey. This had escalated quickly he thought. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. Did he want to kiss River? He might have thought about it. In fact, if he was being honest, he’d thought about it quite a lot. Especially since he’d left her in the garden at Amy and Rory’s wedding. Thought about what would’ve happened if he’d kissed her then. She’d looked so beautiful, standing there with the wind ruffling her curls, teasing him with spoilers and half-answers.

And even if he did want to kiss her, how did he even go about doing that? Could he just stroll up to her next time he sees her and snog her? Seemed a bit presumptuous? Should he ask first? What if he’d got everything wrong about them and she didn’t want to? Or, gosh, come to think of it, what if he wasn’t any good? It had been a while after all.

There also was a part of him though that was terrified to do anything about it. That wanted to run away from her as fast and as far as possible. Terrified because he knew if he started down that path then he’d never stop. Never turn back. But it was more than that as well. Once he’d started then it was that much closer to ending. And he really hated endings.

A soft laugh disturbed him from his thoughts and he looked up to find Marilyn looking at him with an expression of unmistakeable fondness. “Oh, Doctor,” she murmured, shaking her head wistfully, “That’s a lot of thoughts for just a simple kiss.”

“How did you- can you-” he gaped at her in shock.

She laughed again gently, shaking her head before pointing at his glass that was lying on the floor behind him. “Makes you think out loud, sweetie. In vino veritas and all that-”

“Oh, I…”

“It also makes you a bit rubbish at detecting perception filters,” she continued softly, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“Perception filters?” he repeated, frowning at her before peering more closely. Now she mentioned it, there did seem to be a slight blurriness around her silhouette if he just looked at the right angle. Although, he couldn’t rule out that that was simply a side effect of the alcohol.

Marilyn lifted a hand to the pearl necklace she was wearing. She ran her fingers over the pearls briefly before twisting one of them sharply. The Doctor blinked as the air around them shimmered slightly before Marilyn’s carefully coiffed blonde waves disappeared to be replaced with a very familiar head of curls.

“River,” he breathed in delight as he stared down at her.

“Happy New Year, Doctor,” she said softly, smiling back at him as she stepped in closer.

“Oh-,” he suddenly started, eyes going wide as he realised what he had just blurted out in front of her, “But, that means I just told you-“

She smiled again, that same look of fondness reappearing in her eyes. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” she murmured, reaching out with one hand to brush the hair out of his eyes, “It wasn’t spoilers. I’ll answer one thing for you though,” she added, sliding her hand round to the back of his neck, “You don’t ever need to ask me first.”

Before the Doctor could even stop to ask what she meant however, River had pulled his head towards her and talking was now the last thing on his mind as he was finally, finally kissing River Song.

Oh, and this was so much better than he’d imagined. He could taste her and touch, yes he could touch her; he had hands, a part of his brain realised in delight as he stopped flailing his arms long enough to settle them lightly on her hips. There were other, far more interesting areas to explore as well, especially if he just moved his hands round slightly and slid them down a fraction so he could really feel…

Suddenly realising exactly where his hands had ended up, he abruptly let go with a slight gasp. He pulled back from River and stared at her worriedly. What must she think of him groping her like that?

“I’m so- sorry, River, I-“ he stuttered, aghast at his own forwardness.

However, River simply threw her head back and laughed, a low throaty sound that sent a thrill down his spine. Grasping his hands with her own, she placed them firmly back on her bum before pressing herself up against him and looping her arms around his neck. “Don’t apologise sweetie,” she murmured in his ear, “I forgot to mention my favourite side effect of that vodka you’ve been drinking.”

The Doctor tried to suppress a shudder as he felt her teeth graze across his earlobe. “Umm, what’s- what’s that?” he managed to gasp out, as his hands seemed to tighten and pull her closer of their own accord.

She laughed again before turning her head so her lips were almost brushing against his. “It makes you so delightfully handsy!”

Whatever reply the Doctor was about to come up with suddenly vanished from his mind as River’s lips were pressed against his and she was kissing him again. As he returned the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, he was vaguely aware of fireworks going off around them in the sky.

Happy New Year indeed.

#river x eleven #river song #dwfic #this is so fluffy i may die #tinkerbellxoxo #prompt fic

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1184

survey by xflirtykaosx

Alphabetti Spaghetti (2/3)

F o r e v e r - y o u r s - F

Do you fancy any celebrities? If so, who? KIM TAEHYUUUUUUNGGGGGGGGG

Do you watch any FBI shows? Which ones? No.

Have you ever been to a festival? Which one? I don’t think so.

Do you have a fireplace in your house? Hell no. Just the idea of having a fireplace considering where I live and the general climate we have all year makes me nauseous haha.

Do you have a hot flask? I’m not so sure what you mean but if you’re referring to tumblers like Hydro Flask that keep drinks hot/cold for a really long time then yeah, I have one.

What decade were you four in? 2000s.

Do you like the TV show Friends? I love it. I haven’t watched an episode in a while, but it’s always a go-to for me whenever I feel really really really down.

Do you like the feeling of cat fur? Sure, it’s pleasant. Same with dog fur.

Go girl, go; G

Do you have a back garden? Not really a garden but we do have a sort of backyard; basically some space behind the house.

Do you have a gentle touch? Idk...depends on what I’m holding or touching, I guess? Like I would obviously hold an infant as gently and gingerly as possible, but I wouldn’t pay as much attention if I’m holding something ordinary like my phone.

Do you like girly programmes like Gossip Girl? LOL at girly. Who says Gossip Girl and literally any other show out there has to be for a certain audience?

Do you ever use gloves? Only when I order from Frankie’s since they provide gloves with their meals.

Do you prefer gold or silver? Silver.

Are you a greedy person? What makes you greedy? A little bit, when it comes to food hahaha. I don’t like sharing and I get angry if someone eats a portion I already called dibs on.

Have you ever seen a gypsy? No.

Hold on honey, I'm here. - H

Do you have any bad habits? What? I pick at my nails - either set - when I get tense. I also tend to get a liiiiitle bit reckless with my money, if I do choose to spend. I’m pretty self-disciplined for the most part, but I let that go as soon as I give myself the green light lol. Exhibit A would be me spending a total of nearly P7,000 just this week alone on BTS merch...

Do you know anyone called Helen? I don’t think so. My dad has a cousin named Helena, though.

Have you ever watched a documentary about Hitler? Not directly related to him, but I remember watching Night Will Fall in high school.

Do you put hm in a lot of your survey answers? Not a lot. Occasionally, though.

When was the last time you went to hospital? What was it for? May last year. Blood and urine tests.

Do you like HP (Harry Potter)? Who's your favourite character? I didn’t grow up with it, but it’s not as if I’m a passionate anti. It’s just not my cup of tea, even after trying to read the books.

Do you spell it honey or hunny? I never spell it as hunny unless I’m saying it sarcastically or playfully with friends.

Are you afraid of this Swine Flu Hype? That’s gone now, right? We’re dealing with something else entirely.

In the end we all die broken. - I

Have you ever been to Ibiza? Nopes.

Do you take ice in your soda/fizzy drinks? I don’t really have a preference as I don’t regularly consume fizzy drinks anyway, as long as it’s not lukewarm.

Who do you think is a complete idiot? Anyone supporting the government at this point is a good runner-up.

Do you often wonder what if? Sometimes. But I also find it a waste of time, so I don’t dwell on them.

Have you ever seen an Igloo? I haven’t.

Do you get ill often? No, almost never.

Do you ever imagine you were not human? What did you imagine you were? No, this has never come to mind.

Do you like sexual innuendos? If it’s not too trashy, sure.

What is your IQ? Idk, I’ve never had it checked.

Do people often call you irrational? I’ve never been called this before, at least not to my face.

Do you think the name Isis is pretty? ...Welp, not anymore.

Do you get itchy eyeballs? That never happens. Is that even possible?

Do you know what ix stands for in roman numerals? 9.

Just breathe baby, breathe. - J

Have you ever been in jail? I have a very vague memory of visiting a prison with my parents before, but I no longer remember why I was there.

Do you like JD (Jack Daniels)? Nahhhhhh. Had a tiny sip of it once, found it absolutely nasty.

Do you get jealous easily? Not anymore.

Do you tell a lot of jokes? Yeah. I like making people laugh, so I drop jokes whenever I can whether I’m in a formal or informal setting.

Do you finish school/college in June? When I was in college, my school year ended every May. Before that, the academic calendar ended every March.

Kiss me, kill me, thrill me. - K

Do you know a girl called Karla? Yeah, one of the managers at work is a Karla but I don’t work with her. I also went to grade/high school with a girl named Karla; she was my friend for a while as well, but we grew apart over the years.

Did you watch Kenan and Kel? Nope.

Do you prefer kisses or hugs? Depends on the person, I guess. But in the context of being in a relationship, I do love being kissed.

Do you like Korn? I don’t listen to them.

Do you like watching films with Kung Fu in them? Not in particular.

Lessons learnt the hard way are the best I've ever had. - L

Do you like Lady Gaga? She’s okay. I’m not super crazy about her but I tend to like all the stuff she puts out.

When was the last time you had lemonade? Wow, it’s definitely been a while. Maybe a year or so ago? I don’t get to have it a lot; usually only when it’s offered at hotels or resorts when I go on vacation.

Do you ever lie to save your own skin? Sometimes, but I never let the lie be too big just in case it bites me back in the ass one day.

Do you think llamas are cute? Sure.

Do you use Lol a lot? Yes.

Do you think you are lucky or unlucky? Neither.

Melody in my heartstrings. - M

Do you like Mac and Cheese? Loooooove mac and cheese, especially truffle mac and cheese.

Do you ever eat at McDonald’s? What's your usual? Not very often tbh, but I do like McDonald’s. I don’t eat it frequently enough to have a usual order; I get whatever I feel like having at a given moment. And since we’re here, I’m gonna be plugging the BTS Meal, in stores 5/26! HAHAHA

Do you like Medieval games like 7elda? You mean The Legend of Zelda? I do love that franchise, but I don’t like the medieval genre as a whole; I just happened to grow up with the Zelda series and Nintendo as a whole, so I’ve taken a liking to it.

What's on your mind right now? That it’s Monday again tomorrow. I feel like I’m starting to get burnout :/ I’ve definitely noticed I haven’t been being 100% at work lately...but it could also be because the weather is crappy hot again, which makes it a lot harder to work and keep focused.

Is money in your opinion, the root of all evil? It’s part of it.

Do you like Mr and Mrs the show? I’m not familiar with it.

Do you read murder mystery books? Which ones? No.

Do you find Mystical stuff fascinating? Not really.

Nobody loves me, what a change. - N

Do you know the name of your local shopkeeper? We don’t have those here.

Have you ever been called nerdy? I’m sure I’ve been.

Are you you truly a nice person? I hope that’s what people see and think.

Do you overuse nouns in your sentences? I like using adjectives, for one; but I don’t exactly know how you can overuse nouns hahaha.

Do you know anyone personally who is a nurse? Yes, I have several relatives who are in nursing.

Only you - it always has been. - O

Do you obey authority or deliberately disobey it? Obey for the most part.

Is there anything in your room that is an Octagon? What is it? I don’t think so.

What odor can you smell in the room you're in now? The neutral scent my aircon is blowing out.

Do you get offended easily? I think sensitive would be a more fitting word.

Have you ever been to Ohio? No.

Do you ever say Oi? Sure, but not frequently.

Do you spell it OK or okay? I use both; I don’t have a preference. What I avoid is ‘K,’ though.

Are you older than the number day you were born on? Yes.

Have you ever watched the film the Omen? I haven’t.

Name one thing you always have taken for granted? The basic things, I guess, like breathing.

Have you ever had an operation? On what? Never.

Do you like things in a set order or doesn't it matter? As much as possible I do want things to be organized, yeah. I get restless if I see a very messy spreadsheet or Powerpoint, for instance.

Do you have a habit of overreacting? I was a lot more...theatrical in my reactions before haha. Not so much these days; I’ve toned down a lot.

Do you think Owls are nice? Sure.

Do you know what an Oxymoron is? Yup.

Have you ever tried Oyster? Yessssssss I love them and now you’re making me crave them :(

#survey #surveys

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amoveablejake · 3 years

Text

Well, Here We Are

It is time for the obligatory year in review piece, I know, try and contain your excitement.

Well, here we are. The end of another calendar year. 2020 is drawing to a close and so like many, if not all, journalistic outlets I too will be doing my year in review. Do I count as a journalistic outlet I hear you ask? Yes. I’ve decided that I do. This is my column and I’m going to to pretend that I am a columnist here. And I can’t hear your eye rolls because I’m busy hiding behind my clicking keyboard.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about how I wanted to structure my year in review, for instance did I want to go through each category in a classic way and also would I also only speak about things that came out this year. The answer to both, is a no. Instead I am going to present to you my alternative awards for the year. There will still be runners up but the categories may be a little bit all over the place so if you were planning on counting on a sure thing award winner that might be out the window now. That being said, shall we dive into perhaps the most chaotic awards show you’re going to experience this year.

The album that I listened to literally on repeat for a week whilst I was working and as result now know ridiculously well. Perhaps too well - Winner: Pink Floyd ‘Dark Side of the Moon’

Right. So. Back in April one rainy Monday afternoon I put on ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ to listen to it through in its entirety for the first time. I had heard songs from it before and I was familiar with Pink Floyd’s music before this but this was what sent me down a spiral of their discography, so much so that Spotify have dubbed them my artist of the year based on playtime. Whilst I would not consider them to be my artist of the year, I can’t deny how deep I’ve gone into their library and in particular ‘Dark Side of the Moon’. I quite literally had it playing on repeat for the entirety of that week and now, now I simply don’t know if I ever truly existed before that album. Am I the album? Is the album me? I’m in too deep.

The best representation of Seattle in a post apocalyptic video game - Winner: ‘The Last of Us Part Two’

Honestly, I know that this category makes it pretty clear that Last of Us was always going to win but that is because if it wasn’t on this list somewhere I think it might have indeed been a federal crime. This year I played both editions of Joel and Ellie’s story pretty much back to back and boy oh boy was that quite the ride. Part Two is a gruesome, grueling, revenge fueled ride that in all honesty is some of the best storytelling I have ever experienced. In any medium. It’s narrative is phenomenal, its game design is unparalleled, the voice acting and soundtrack are both out of this world and the way it looks is breathtaking. It is a game that continuously left me speechless and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I put it down. The fact that Joel looks like my Dad did and wears the same clothes only partly adds to the emotions it makes me feel. Although I won’t pretend the bit where Joel is talking to Ellie didn’t hit me quite hard. But hey, thats the game’s point. Its a story designed to make you feel and oh boy does it achieve that.

The football player who came out of nowhere to bring life back to my club - Winner: Bruno Fernandes

It has been a lot ol’ time since I’ve seen a player that I instantly fell for. Bruno Fernandes arrived in Manchester with an already strong reputation but he has completely transformed a team and shows no sign of slowing down. His first twelve months have been unparalleled and the comparisons drawn with a certain other Portuguese player who was worn that red shirt are not only warranted but deserved.

The band who I’ve been missing all my life: Winner - Niteflyte

Quite frankly, this is a very hard award to give. There were quite a few front runners however, it has to be Niteflyte. I got introduced to Niteflyte via a podcast about the CIA’s involvement with the soundtrack of the Berlin wall coming down (’Wind Of Change’, listen to it now. Well after you’ve finished reading this piece that is). The podcast only played Niteflyte because one of the figures it was investigating used to manage the band. It was a thirty second sound bite if that and it stopped me in my tracks. I was walking in my old city at the time and I had to stop on the street and find the album the song was from and put it on straight away. I have previously written about Niteflyte and their self titled album on the blog so go back and read that for a more in depth look however, if you take one thing from this it might be that if I was going to give an artist of the year award, lets just say I think I know who it would go to.

The best motion picture handling of a father that has passed away that I have seen. Ever - Winner: ‘Onward’

When I first heard what ‘Onward’ was about I was, hesitant. Any film where a parent particularly a father comes back to life always makes me filled with trepdiation and this was the case when I went to go and watch ‘Onward’ back in March (the last film I saw in the cinema before all of this). Instead, what I found was an incredibly moving and sensitive film about losing a parent that had at its end the best handling of a reunion between father and son that I have ever seen on the big screen. I have watched it a second time since and I still found it to be incredibly well done. ‘Onward’ might well be my film of the year because of it, I’m that impressed. It is also a great film in its own right but hey, I can’t deny why it sticks out in my head.

The show that keeps on getting better and better: Winner - ‘The Mandalorian’

Sigh. Everytime I think that that ‘The Mandalorian’ couldn’t possibly get any better it goes and proves me wrong. This year started off with the finale of series one and it has ended with the conclusion of the second series. It is a masterpiece and for that I don’t want to ruin its ending here. Instead I will say that it does get better and better each week and for this life long die hard Star Wars fan, hell, it might be my favourite Star Wars property. And I know that won’t mean anything to you, but to me, that is saying something.

Okay, so, I could keep going on and on with these awards however, its the festive period and I don’t want to keep you hanging around too much so instead I am going to include below some honourable mentions with a little sentence about each.

‘Anxious People’ - If I was to give a book of the year award winner this would be it. In fact its one of my top ten books ever. Its perfection. Read it. Now.

‘Animal Crossing: New Horizons’ - Released at the perfect time and all these months later it still captures my heart everytime I go on it.

‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ soundtrack - Look. I don’t need to make my feelings about this album any clearer. We know I love it and I hope that you’ve listened to it by now and you do too.

Diego Maradona - The greatest of all time. There’s nothing more to say.

‘The Prestige’ - Oh boy. I had heard about this film a lot from the IGN UK podcast over the years and it did not disappoint at all. Especially who plays a certain Mr Tesla. That reveal blew me away.

Joe Exotic - Watching ‘Tiger King’ really felt like event viewing and came along at the perfect time like Animal Crossing. Joe Exotic, I don’t know what to say but he has earned his place on this list thats for sure.

‘I’ve Got My Second Wind’ - I heard this on one of the early days in January, maybe the second or third and I’ve been listening to it ever since. My song of the year.

Philippe Auclair - Football journalist and singer. Auclair who features on the Guardian’s Football Weekly podcast regularly is an incredibly articulate speaker and is never afraid to hold the more questionable footballing authorities accountable. One of the writers and figures in football that I look up to the most. Oh and hes an excellent singer. What a man.

Napoli FC - This was the year that I fell in love with Napoli. Theres no looking back now, I finally found my own team.

‘Uncharted Four: A Thief’s End’ - The game that showed me, truly, how good games can be. I felt like it was a crime that this game is so perfect. It feels like the inside of my head and I never wanted it to end.

My brother, James - Look. I know you’re reading this and you more than deserve your place on this list. I was going to give you a proper award but I couldn’t quite get the wording right. Anyway, the point is you’re on the list as you always will be. (And yes, you’re in the same section as Joe Exotic, quite the compliment I know)

So there we have it. 2020. Hopefully the above gives you something to think about and some things to consume over this festive period before we go again for the new year. This won’t be the final piece for the year but all the same, I hope its a bright 2021 for you, see you in the future.

- Jake, a man who is immediately re assessing the awards, 27/12/2020

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anti-pasto · 4 years

Note

for the 200 ask thingy, i actually dare you to do all of them. :D

delgaskarthalexhere we go, anon:

200: My crush’s name is: I don’t have one right now, I don’t get them often (if I ever had a crush at all)

199: I was born in: 2003

198: I am really: A 2005 emo kid x a 2008 scene kid x a 2014 tumblr fangirl x Kyle himself

197: My cellphone company is: Apple

194: My ring size is: Honestly? No idea. Propose to me with a sword.

193: My height is: Somewhere between 5′7″ and 5′8″

192: I am allergic to: Nothing I’m aware of

191: My 1st car was: 94 Station Wagon, by request

190: My 1st job was: being this funny is a full-time gig

189: Last book you read: Bone Gap by Laura Ruby

188: My bed is: “made”

187: My pet: I have a cat, I love her very much and I will show her to you if you dm me a cursed image

186: My best friend: We don’t use “best friend” for personal reasons, but they’ve been with me since I was 5 so, my one and only Bro

185: My favorite shampoo is: anything with “silky smooth” or “strawberries” on the bottle. i’m not that picky anymore.

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox or ps4 xbox

183: Piggy banks are: really useful

182: In my pockets: wallet, keys, phone, earbuds, black pen/pencil, earplugs, mini flashlight

181: On my calendar: i’m meeting a friend for smoothies tomorrow

180: Marriage is: something we shouldn’t push so much onto people. it’s a declaration of love, not an end-all fix-all to your life. i can’t ever see myself getting married but who knows!

179: Spongebob can: continue to be a relevant meme

178: My mom: i mean. we function. i can’t really complain about my family at large but i am defiantly looking forward to living literally as far away from them as i can.

177: The last three songs I bought were? psh, you think i pay for music? (folie a deux, lake effect kid, believers never die volume two) (those are albums but its okay)

176: Last YouTube video watched: I watched Markiplier play Uno

175: How many cousins do you have? 11? 12? I lost count

174: Do you have any siblings? I have a brother

173: Are your parents divorced? Nope!

172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes, I have been for a while

171: Do you play an instrument? dude HECK yeah! i vibe on piano, guitar, ukulele, clarinet, and im a drum major

170: What did you do yesterday? I went on a drive by myself.

[ I Believe In ]

169: Love at first sight: Nope.

168: Luck: Yes, but luck is something that can be engineered

167: Fate: To an extent

166: Yourself: I’d say overall, yeah. I still have doubts tho

165: Aliens: Mmmmmm yeah

164: Heaven: Yes

163: Hell: Yes

162: God: Yeup

161: Horoscopes: without an ounce of truth, they would have died a long time ago

160: Soul mates: the greeks had seven words for love. i think we have multiple soul mates to fit each of those categories. there are definitely people we’re just meant to vibe with

159: Ghosts: i want to say yes but i really dont know

158: Gay Marriage: yes. its 2020. grow up.

157: War: in theory? no. war is kinda messed up. in reality? not everyone is going to be down to nice diplomatic conflict resolution, and not everyone is just gonna leave people *countries* they don’t like alone, so...

156: Orbs: ??? energies are real

155: Magic: vibes are real

[ This or That ]

154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs

153: Drunk or High: i am a child of jesus

152: Phone or Online: online

151: Red heads or Black haired: irdc but black hair bc i am Emo

150: Blondes or Brunettes: blonde?? ig?? easier to dye

149: Hot or cold: hot weather + cold rooms

148: Summer or winter: summer

147: Autumn or Spring: autum (screw spring)

146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla

145: Night or Day: night

144: Oranges or Apples: oranges (better to share with homies)

143: Curly or Straight hair: i dont care but curly

142: McDonalds or Burger King: mcdonald give iced coffee

141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: dark chocolate

140: Mac or PC: pc for vidgya gaemes

139: Flip flops or high heals: ...converse. please. i cant walk properly in either of those

138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor

137: Coke or Pepsi: pepsi

136: Hillary or Obama: this is kinda outdated but obama

135: Burried or cremated: cremated i aint watch spn for nothin

134: Singing or Dancing: singing. at least that gets better with practice

133: Coach or Chanel: chanel (thank u mr frank ocean and also the neighborhood)

132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: whomst

131: Small town or Big city: big city and if you say small town you’ve never lived in a small town

130: Wal-Mart or Target: target

129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: who tf is this

128: Manicure or Pedicure: idk dude probably pedicure i don’t like people touching my hands and i use them for too much to get my nails done

127: East Coast or West Coast: hnngggggggg west coast has more to do but east coast has better beaches and

126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday

125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate bc then i can give u some

124: Disney or Six Flags: ive only been to disney so disney (though i AM a HARDCORE rollercoaster stan so it wouldnt take much for me to say six flags)

123: Yankees or Red Sox: what

[ Here’s What I Think About ]

122: War: unfortunately sometimes necessary but not as a first resort i went over this already

121: George Bush: is that the shoe guy?

120: Gay Marriage: be gay. do crime. kiss wife. or husband. or partner. basically, hell yeah

119: The presidential election: america need 2 b single and focus on herself

118: Abortion: pro-choice and that choice should be made by the one carrying the baby

117: MySpace: tumblr’s dad

116: Reality TV: don’t talk to about abt this

115: Parents: disgusting. go to therapy.

114: Back stabbers: if you’re gonna stab me in the back, pull my lungs through my ribcage bc that’s what my ancestor’s ghosts are gonna do to you (thanks great (x a few times) grandma viking ily thanks for the hair:) )

113: Ebay: good for merch and selling books

112: Facebook: zuck my dick, data-theif

111: Work: i like doing work? like- i enjoy completing tasks and seeing my hard work pay off? it’s not that bad?

110: My Neighbors: old. boring. want me to babysit for free.

109: Gas Prices: i cant really complain rn they’re kinda low and im a little broke so

108: Designer Clothes: i vibe to them, honestly

107: College: not for everyone but definitely for me

106: Sports: marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport but only technically speaking though you can make fair comparisons to sports such as cheer, and gymnastics where the idea is to put on a show and receive a score in the form of competition.

105: My family: disgusting

104: The future: the future doesn’t exist

[ Last time I ]

103: Hugged someone: god, don’t ask me this

102: Last time you ate: uhhh like 9 hours ago? it was dinner and i had pizza

101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: three or four weeks ago by best bro came to visit and we vibed

100: Cried in front of someone: i finished twist and shout at school at the end of a very bad week. it was only a few tears but that’s as close as i get to crying

99: Went to a movie theater: whenever the last star wars movie came out

98: Took a vacation: last year i went to dc over summer break to see the Smithsonian, it was a lot of fun. i was supposed to go to altanta and florida this year but that didn’t happen for reasons

97: Swam in a pool: last week

96: Changed a diaper: never

95: Got my nails done: never

94: Went to a wedding: its been at least 6 years dude

93: Broke a bone: never, somehow

92: Got a peircing: nope

91: Broke the law: technically, yesterday. 55 is too slow

90: Texted: just now

[ MISC ]

89: Who makes you laugh the most: the person in my snap named “junior”

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat

87: The last movie I saw: probably into the spiderverse

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: things going back to normal. or somewhat normal. i need school to have a schedule bc i absolutely cannot force myself to function without outside influence

85: The thing im not looking forward to: ironically, school in the fall. the way we’re going back is going to wreck me more than lockdown already has

84: People call me: i only ft one of my bros and they know who tf they are if you ask to ft you’re getting fuckin blocked mate i dont do that shit video calls are for WORK and SCHOOL thats IT. but ppl call me by my nickname irl, i go by screech on here.

83: The most difficult thing to do is: listen to my parent’s political opinions? live in a small town? force myself to be productive without a physical influence and reminder? put up with that one dude?

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope

81: My zodiac sign is: scoprio/leo/gemini

80: The first person i talked to today was: the potential bassist for our potential band?

79: First time you had a crush: uhh im still not sure if it was a crush but i wanted them to myself and they wanted (and got) someone better. we were just friends so it doesn’t really matter

78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: the person on snap named “the great oracle”

77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday, it was my brother

76: Right now I am talking to: in order of snap names, “vibin ~[^.^]~”, “russian umbrella”, and “mom” (not really)

75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully, a job that makes me happy

74: I have/will get a job: as soon as i know what’s going on with school. but like as an adult? wherever will hire me and pay my fairly. being a barista would be fun, but at a local place (not in my current town)

73: Tomorrow: ???? time for bad poetry: tomorrow i will see my friend/ admist this lasting chaos/ we will be each other’s solitude/ while sharing fruity drinks/ and when we both come home/ a smile we will bring

72: Today: idk what this means so more poetry: today i will be sleep deprived as always/ i will think of them and weep/ but no tears will fall from my eyes/ for i know there is a reason/ we went our own way

71: Next Summer: i fr dont know whats goin on so: next summer i will be/ as happy as can be/ because i will be in pain no longer/ the earth is sure to heal/ and i will heal with her/ so i can enjoy/ the heatwave of next summer

70: Next Weekend: next weekend i will spend/ my days wasting away/ maybe ill finish hannibal/ again/ not that serial killers make the dopamine stay/ i will not see my friends/ or talk to my family/ i will seldom eat/ and live off coffee/ this has been my life/ all quarintine/ god someone please help me

69: I have these pets: i have four cats, three chickens, and a dog

68: The worst sound in the world: my dad and grandpa talking

67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Them

66: People that make you happy: snap name time: the great oracle, junior, vibin ~[^.^]~, russian umbrella, mom, hero, booby-king 48, go to bed, son, pooper trooper, mac&cheese, plain egg biscuit, apple pie

65: Last time I cried: i dont cry bitch (last week over officals that cant make up they gottdamned mindes)

64: My friends are: my family and i would die for each and all of them

63: My computer is: an old hp but it play gaemes real good so it okie

62: My School: is trash but the band pops off

61: My Car: old, fast, clean

60: I lose all respect for people who: are my dad

59: The movie I cried at was: i cried over big hero six

58: Your hair color is: blonde

57: TV shows you watch: supernatural, good omens, hannibal, parks and rec

56: Favorite web site: this hellsite or youtube

55: Your dream vacation: out of the country with beautiful beaches, amazing food, and my best friend

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: the time i split the back of my head open, the time i split my chin open, and the time my then best friend said they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. i’ll let you guess which one hurt the most and which one i think about every fucking day

53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium or medium well.

52: My room is: clean and a reflection of myself, or so i’ve been told

51: My favorite celebrity is: i do not engage in celebrity worship. ill follow them and reblog gifs/interviews but i dont really have a favorite. the less i know abt them the better.

50: Where would you like to be: my own apartment in nyc

49: Do you want children: FUCK THEM KIDS BRO

48: Ever been in love: i dont know if it was love. i dont know if it was a crush. what i do know id that i was attached and they didn’t feel the same, and why would they?

47: Who’s your best friend: we dont really use best friend bc but “the great oracle” “junior” and “vibin ~[^.^]~”

46: More guy friends or girl friends: its 50/50

45: One thing that makes you feel great is: goin fast, the beach, playin video games

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: them

43: Do you have a 5 year plan: go to college, earn degree

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: commit arson

41: Have you pre-named your children: FUCK. THEM. KIDS. BRO.

40: Last person I got mad at: they do not understand that they do not know everything about something they’re not even involved in yet

39: I would like to move to: new zealand

38: I wish I was a professional: artist? musican? youtuber? who knows

[ My Favorites ]

37: Candy: nerds

36: Vehicle: 1970 mustang gt

35: President: jfk only bc his assassination is the only good thing abt american history the rest of it is fucked up and shouldn’t have happened. also jfk’s song in assassians the musical goes hard

34: State visited: california

33: Cellphone provider: verizon? apple? idfk

32: Athlete: what is sport

31: Actor: i don't watch shows or movies

30: Actress: i do not consume media

29: Singer: alex gaskarth or alexander deleon

28: Band: fall out boy

27: Clothing store: hot topic (i will not apologize)

26: Grocery store: okay harris teeter fucks but lidil’s has aloe vera juice and target at 9 pm energy so idk man

25: TV show: supernatural...

24: Movie: big hero 6

23: Website: tumblr or youtube

22: Animal: snow leopard

21: Theme park: busch gardens bc roller coaster go fast

20: Holiday: christmas

19: Sport to watch: snowboarding bc its like skateboarding but on snow

18: Sport to play: anything with havy footwork (marching band is a sport)

17: Magazine: i do not condume media

16: Book: the ranger’s apprentice series as a whole makes up my all-time one favorite book

15: Day of the week: friday bc its game day baybey

14: Beach: cocoa beach in florida but also i have so much left to experience

13: Concert attended: i havent been to any notable gigs but i was supposed to go to hella mega

12: Thing to cook: pancakes

11: Food: pizza or shushi

10: Restaurant: chiplote

9: Radio station: i like my local rock station and my local edm/top 40 station

8: Yankee candle scent: anything smoky or vanilla idc

7: Perfume: chanel no. 5 if i even wear it

6: Flower: Hydrangea

5: Color: orange

4: Talk show host: cecil palmer

3: Comedian: john maulaney

2: Dog breed: yes

1: Did you answer all these truthfully? ;)

That was a trip. But it was fun, please do things like this more often. Also, I don’t consume media by choice. I’m not sheltered I just can’t be bothered, and I have enough going on. That being said I will now be sleeping. Thanks again, Anon, I hope you have fun reading this :D

3 notes · View notes

canarhys · 5 years

Note

If you write a valdangelo college AU I’ll perish

“nico, you’re staring at him again.”

“huh?” nico looked back to his best friend, turning his gaze away from the boy near the window to percy jackson, sitting sideways in his chair and sipping his energy drink, a monster can that he finished with about three gulps. “i’m not—”

“yeah, i’ve heard that before dude.” percy crushed the can tossed it like a basketball to the nearby trash, nearly missing by an inch. “score. and you had those big goo-goo eyes. just go talk to the guy.”

nico stared at percy as if he had grown a second head. “i am not.”

“okay, well, aren’t you two minoring philosophy this year? you see him, what, twice a week in the afternoon?”

“percy, just because i can see him at a different time of day doesn’t mean i can talk to him.” nico stared at his coffee, significantly cooler enough for him to take a sip. it still left a burn on his tongue, though not as strong as when he mistakenly took a sip before. “besides, he sits in the front. far from me.”

“meet him after class,” percy suggested. “or like talk to him. he’s not a demon or anything. you’re not going to die if you start a conversation.”

“yes, i will.” nico looked back at the boy at the window, busy typing something on his laptop. he was wearing a flannel as it was autumn and not yet too cold for light wear, a beanie discarded next to him on the table. nico traced his outline with his eyes, already sketching him out with his deep rich skin and his curly hair, dark and wispy, his sweet caramel eyes scanning the paragraph he was currently writing. nico suspected it was for philosophy, which was his class later in the day and they had been assigned a book report a few days earlier. the sun was starting to peek over the buildings, showering a curtain of golden light on the boy and making him glow. he was radiant.

“you seriously have it bad,” percy interrupted, silencing his train of thought. “we need to find you a better outlet for your creepy stalking.”

[[MORE]]

nico sputtered. “i’m not stalking him!”

he said that a little too loudly, causing a few patrons at the campus coffee shop to stare at him. his face flushed. at least the guy wasn’t staring, as he seemed extremely hyperfixated on getting that paper done. nico and percy began talking again when everyone went back to doing what they had been doing.

“you’ve been staring at him for the past two weeks, every day until he leaves or you leave. it’s got to stop!” percy stood up, causing the chair to stumble and nearly fall if percy hadn’t caught it at the last second. “go talk to him.”

nico sighed. well, it was better now than never. percy wouldn’t stop pestering him, and the guy seemingly got cuter every day. he’d probably combust if he would never see that boy again. so he stood up and was about to walk over to the guy when—

“shit!” the guy exclaimed after he checked his watch, hurriedly standing up from his seat and shutting his laptop closed, placing it in his carry-on bag and quickly rushing out of the shop, almost bumping into people on the way. nico was frozen. he didn’t know which was worse — the boy having left, or the fact that the boy looked at him at the last minute before running away. well, there goes that opportunity.

and... he’s gone.

“well.” percy whistled. “that went great.”

“you’re a fucking idiot.” and nico almost went back to his seat before something caught his eye on the guy’s desk. he had left his beanie.

he went over and picked it up. it was black, and had a small texas flag patch imbedded into the center front. he checked the small tag on the inside of it.

leo valdez.

“hey, you know his name now!” percy exclaimed, slapping a hand on nico’s back. “ya know, this gives you a great opportunity to—”

“percy, shut up, you were literally oblivious to annabeth showing you hints that she liked you since day one.” but nico stuffed the beanie in his bookbag anyway.

percy blushed. “it’s not my fault her hints were so obvious that they were unnoticeable.” he shook his head. “and don’t change the subject. at philosophy, you march right up to him, give him back his beanie, and ask him out somewhere.”

easier said than done, but because this was too good a chance to waste and because percy was somehow bringing his hopes up with every encouragement, he finally agreed.

“but if he rejects me, you’re buying me seventy happy meals.”

“deal.”

—

leo couldn’t believe it. he has forgotten his beanie again.

as if the day couldn’t get worse. he had barely finished his philosophy report while hanging out with piper and jason, whom he had rushed to get to in time for their scheduled study group. then he had accidentally spilled orange juice on piper’s homework. piper said it was chill since she had a backup one on her computer (one of the few times she had it, thank god) but leo had apologized immensely. then, as he was listening to aminé on his headphones, he had realized that he had forgotten his beanie at the campus café. he rushed over there in nearly a minute, and cursed loudly when he saw that it was gone. he had checked the lost and found. gone. he had asked one of the employees, and they said all they saw was a guy stuff it in his bookbag and leave with a friend.

so, yeah, his gifted beanie from frank was stolen. just great.

he sighed, exasperated with the day, and already hoping to head back to his dorm at the end of the day and fall asleep in his own misery. he rested his head on the desk. he was in the philosophy classroom, the first one because... well, he just didn’t want to be late again. he took out his phone to check the battery. 17%. he hates god.

he rested his head back on the desk when he heard a pair of footsteps enter the classroom. he suspected it was octavian, who was usually first (leo couldn’t wait to tease him about it) when he heard the footsteps enter his row. octavian sits in the back, next to that one kid with the baby bat wing hair.

“excuse me.”

leo looked up. his eyes widened, his heart stopped, his breathing stopped. it was was baby bat wing kid, but up close, and leo never even realized how hot he looked up close. the guy was freckled all over his face, with obsidian eyes and a usually grim expression that was morphed currently into one of... nervousness. he holding his backpack in one hand, which was slung over his shoulder, and the other clutching...

“is this yours?” he asked after good minute. he seemed frozen too, but leo felt a grin grow on his face.

“dude, holy shit!” he grabbed it, staring at it to make sure it was his. black, texas flag, and his chicken scratch written name on the tag inside. definitely his. “thank you! were you the one the employee said took it?”

“yeah, i, uh, wanted to give it back to make sure it wasn’t stolen,” nico answered. “i remembered you were in my philosophy class... because i look at you— i mean, you’re in the front, so you’re face is kinda hard to miss and... sorry.”

oh god, the guy was adorable too. leo felt his face flush.

“it’s fine,” he replied. “your name is... nico?”

nico blinked. “you know my name?”

“i mean, the professor calls roll every class,” leo said shrugging, seeing nico’s shoulders droop. “i remembered your voice.”

“my voice?”

“accent.”

“ah.”

they fell into an awkward silence. leo looked from side to side before sighing, already knowing his messing up his only conversation with a beautiful man that he was literally trying not to ask out. “i’m sorry, i’m a bit awkward,” he apologized.

“no, it’s fine!” nico replied. “i’m not that good at communication.”

“mood.”

nico gave a small laugh, sending a torrent of butterflies flying amock in leo’s stomach.

“hey,” nico started, shuffling his feet, “i’m, uh, a major in photography? and we’re doing a project right now, people studies and shit like that. i need a model for it by next week and...”

leo blinked. was he asking him to be a model for him? leo felt jittery, a thousand jumping jelly beans already ready to burst with the amount of blushing leo was doing.

“you want me to model for you?” nico nodded, and leo laughed.

“that sounds great dude, but, i’m not really visually pleasant for a camera—”

“but you’re beautiful!”

leo froze, looking at nico with a gaping mouth and darkened cheeks. nico covered his mouth, and leo could see him blushing hard. leo probably wasn’t any better. the two stared at each other, nico struggling to come up with an explanation and leo struggling to reply.

“sorry, uh, i should go—”

“wait, don’t!” leo stood up and grabbed his hand before he could escape (to where, leo didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to let him go). nico craned his neck towards him, and words nearly came in a jumble. “i’m... i’m free for this week and the next except saturday night and other things. i—” he took a deep breath. “i think you’re beautiful too.”

nico turned to face him, his face equivalent to a surprised puppy. he was quiet for a second. “you mind if we start tomorrow?”

“hell yeah! i’m free!” leo opened up his hand to nico, who looked at it with a raised eyebrow. “uh, phone? so we can contact each other?”

nico seemed to realize this and went “oh,” fishing out his phone and unlocking it, handing it over. leo opened up his contacts and added his in before giving it back. nico took one look and snorted.

“bad boy supreme?”

“it’ll grow on ya. text me later, i’ll see if everything on my calendar is cleared.”

“cool,” was all nico said. he looked back down at his phone, smiling the most precious smile leo has ever seen. “cool. thanks leo.”

leo frowned. “wait, you know my name?”

nico looked embarrassed, gesturing vaguely to leo’s beanie. “the beanie.”

“ah.”

leo checked his watch. five minutes till class.

“you need to tell me what to do tomorrow, or else all your pictures are gonna be me falling off a building or something,” leo joked. “and do not take any nudes of me. the last thing i want is a college scandal.”

nico grinned. “i won’t,” he said.

“good.” then leo moved on his own, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. nico sputtered adorably as leo leaned back, making leo laugh. “you’re cute. text me later.”

nico looked like he forgot was oxygen was. leo felt a little guilty. a little. “yeah.”

halfway through professor aristotle’s lecture, leo looked back to see nico staring at him. he wondered if nico had ever looked at him from up there, noticed his dark hair and busy hands that could never stay still. he wondered if nico had ever noticed him in any other occasion. regardless, he felt his heart beat faster and his brain become pudding in his skull.

nico noticed he was looking back and startled a bit, looking to the side in embarrassment. leo laughed silently, giving him a little wave. nico gave him a little one back.

—

“are you two dating?” octavian questioned, seeing nico look starry-eyed at leo in the front.

nico stared at him. “no?” he said, knowing it sounded less like an answer and more like a confounded question.

“sure,” he said, the blonde turning back to his notebook before adding, “he likes hot chocolate.”

nico didn’t know why octavian was giving him advice but he took it with no grain of salt. the guy was weird but he was also pretty helpful at times. he leaned back in his seat, stifling a yawn when suddenly his phone buzzed on the desk. he grabbed it and checked the notification.

bad boy supreme, 6:39 p.m.

hey

#pjo #valdangelo #nico di angelo #leo valdez #percy jackson #octavian #i’m sorry it’s shorter than the last one but yay #i need to stop apologizing for story length jfc #also perish 💕

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petersshirts · 6 years

Text

Hitting On You | tom holland

summary: out of your anger you punch a stranger straight in the face - but hey, what if that stranger is really really cute?

words: 1594

a/n: tadaa! finally, another one-shot! I hope you like it, I’m so happy how it turned out! :) love you x

Poof! Po - poof!

You punched the bag repeatedly, sweat running down your forehead. Your arms were getting tired but you were not about to give up. You were too angry for that.

The clock above the entrance to the small gym showed 1 am. You had been here for two hours, and you were not about to stop.

It had been a hard and long day. You had to get early to your job because your boss had a few meetings he wanted to talk about with you.

You had been your boss’ assistant for two years now and you were desperately hoping for a promotion to be a writer. But for two years, you were constantly bringing him coffee and listen to him talking about his issues at home. And today was just the same: You ran through London to get him everything he wanted and when you walked back to his office, you picked up the following conversation between your boss and the president of the company:

„Are there any promotions coming up?“

You held your breath, needing to hear your boss’ answer. „Yes, there is one coming up - a young guy named Adam who just started his job half a year ago has been very successful.“

When he said that sentence, you completely lost it. You knew better not to run into the office and make a scene in front of the office, holding back your anger until you could confront your boss, alone.

The president left half an hour ago later and when he was out of sight, you got up and marched into your boss’ office, closing the door behind you. He raised his eyebrows at your sudden arrival.

„Can I help you, Ms Y/L/N?“

You walked towards his desk, trying to find the right words.

„Yes, actually you can. I want a promotion.“

„Since when are you the one to decide that?“

You smiled, used to his stubbornness. But you continued, „I’ve been working for you for two years now, don’t you think it would be time?“

Your boss shook his head, a little smile appeared on his face that you hated. „I’m not gonna do that.“

Your words rushed out and you didn’t regret them. This job was leading to nowhere and if you continued, you would never achieve your dream.

„Alright, then I quit.“

And with these words, you walked out, packed all your stuff and left the building.

_____________________________________

And now here you were, in the small gym that was in your apartment complex. After you had left work, you ran home and immediately went down here, trying to get your anger out of your body. You had always kept it inside of you, but today was the day to finally let it go and take a step towards your dreams. Even though you were unemployed.

You hit the punching bag again and again and your muscles were burning, but the loud music in your eyes was tempting to go even further. Some rock singer was screaming into your ear, telling you that his heart was broken but you ignored the lyrics, only focusing on the music.

Suddenly there was a tap on your shoulder. You were in such a rush that you didn’t see something like this coming so you turned around and lunged at the person that was behind you. In the first moment, you didn’t even realise what you had done. But when you saw the young guy on the ground, holding his nose, you noticed that you just hit a stranger, straight in the face without any reason.

„Oh my god, I’m so sorry!“

You crouched down in front of the boy, feeling helpless. The boy looked up at you but he was still holding his nose in pain. You couldn’t see any blood so that was good, but when the nose is broken, does it bleed??

The boy sat up and slowly put his hand from his nose. It didn’t look like it was broken but you had punched him pretty hard. „I - it’s fine. It was pretty stupid from me to just sneak up behind you while you couldn’t even hear me. You’ve got a good punch though.“

He smiled at you but you still felt bad. Even though it was somehow his own fault. When you looked at his face, he seemed familiar to you. And then it clicked: He also lived in this complex and you had seen him a few minutes when you left or came back, but you had never talked to each other. A neighbour had told you that his first name was Tom, but that’s the only thing you really knew about him. He looked really good and always send you a cute smile but you just knocked him to the ground, your chances were very slim.

„You’re Tom right? Why did you even tap me on the shoulder when you saw that I was really into it?“ Toms face got red and he finally got himself up to standing. „Uhm.. yes I’m Tom, how do you even know that? I just saw you in there two hours ago when I left the building and when I just came back you were still punching the bag like a maniac, and I just wanted to know if you’re okay and if you wanna talk about it, because no one is going that hard for only a fitter body.“

You smiled at him, happy that he noticed that and wanted to check on you, even if it ended pretty badly. „A neighbour told me once. I’ve just quitted my job actually and I was so angry at my shitty boss I just needed a distraction. So I’ve just been punching this bag for four hours, thinking that this bag is my boss.“

Tom laughed and nodded, completely understanding your decision.

„Do you wanna talk about it?“

______________________________

When you had packed all your stuff together, the two of you moved to your apartment that was just one floor higher than Toms. You changed into some comfy clothes and brought Tom a cool pack to cool off his swelling nose.

„It’s not that bad, I promise you.“ You just handed him the pack and sat down next to him.

„Just take it.“

„So why did you quit today?“ He asked you with a raised eyebrow, curious about your day. You sighed and leaned back, closing your eyes.

„I’ve been working for my boss for two years now as an assistant and I always wanted to be a writer in his company. I took the job two years ago because the company told me that there was a big chance that I would be promoted in a short amount of time. But all I’m doing is bringing my boss coffee and filling his calendar but that’s not my potential, you know? I studied so hard and I love writing but this ass just used me.“

Tom nodded at you, completely understanding. He may not have had the same way as you, but he knew the feeling. It was never nice when somebody told you that you would get something but then there’s was nothing. It was a horrible feeling.

„Hey, it’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna find a much better job where you are not hitting people in the nose!“ You giggled and hit his shoulder, happy that there was someone to talk to. All your anger had vanished just by talking and not punching til you were completely exhausted.

The two of you chatted all night, you were in your own bubble full of light and laughter and you felt so happy like you hadn’t in a very long time. When the sun started to rise, Tom stood up.

„I actually have to go to work a bit later, so I better catch some sleep before I head off.“ You nodded and smiled, knowing that you could just lay in bed all day and not worry about a damn thing. Just the curly haired boy.

„But I still owe you something for that blue nose though. Do you maybe wanna grab dinner this weekend?“ Tom literally beamed at you. He was so excited that you had asked him, he was way too shy around girls to make the first move. „Yes, of course! I will just drop by this afternoon and tell you a time?“

You nodded and then you stood at the door, two people who started the night off as strangers and ended it of as friends. Maybe even friends who wanted to be more?

You stared at your shoes, not knowing if you should just wave him off or hug him but Tom surprised you when he pressed a cheeky kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widened but he was too quick to catch the kiss. Tom stepped back, waving at you.

„See you, Tom.“

„See you, Darling. And by the way, you looked really sexy when you punched that bag.“

__________________________________________________

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hysterialyywrites · 5 years

Text

The Things My Synesthesia Shows Me

The moment I was born, my mind has only known black. As any other 22-year-old adult, this is probably what most of us would say if asked about anything we remembered the day we were born. Looking back on it now, I can say this was the start of my 'Tutorial' in the game known as 'Life'.

My Tutorial, as my mother described, was nothing but sleepless nights and stressed out fights and 24/7 diaper changes between her and my father. My dad almost gave up halfway through my Tutorial, saying it was way too much to handle in a man's lifetime, but my mom countered by saying he was much more of a baby than I was at 3 months old, and Dad, despite himself, burst out laughing at my mother's snarky remark, and volunteered to change my diaper the next day. That was when I learned of the color white, the color of peace and simplicity, of birth and of innocence, and a year after I was born I finished my Tutorial, and was ready to start Level 1. * * *

Level 1, as my father described, was a blur of tears as he witnessed my first steps, and my mother shook her head at my father's simple fragility and called him a cry baby ever since (my father believes he is a strong man, so my mother never let him live it down). He got way too excited and took the whole family out to the park the next day, and my mother set up a feast with her selected weapons of picnic basket and checkered blanket, backed by her mighty homemade sandwiches and brilliant hot tea, and that was when I learned of the color yellow, the color of joy and sunshine, of hope and happiness; the color of my mother's laughter as she watched my father become a superhero for the sake of my amazement, and years later I was on my way to my very first day of school at Level 5. Simply put, I was terrified. Suprisingly enough, I was able to remember that far. I remember clutching onto my mother's shirt, telling her I wanted to go home, but she pulled me away to face me, and she told me I was going to be fine with a kiss of my forehead. All of a sudden I was dragged away by a hand that was foreign, with time I have learned that belonged to my teacher, and was suddenly introduced to the color of grey, the color of discomfort, the color of confusion, and up to this day this is the color I liked least. * * *

I first learned of the color pink when I met a girl who goes by the name of Lilia, whose voice when heard reminded me of acceptance, tenderness, and calm. She was at Level 5 too, the same as I was, and we made a silent agreement to make it to Level 6 together that day we met at the playground, sealing the deal with a pinky promise under the warm afternoon sun. Later on we realized how easy it was to level up together, with our birthdays being literally right next to each other on the calendar, and 5 years later we made it to middle school at Level 11.

In those 5 years I've had with Lily, as I have chosen to call her, I have learned of three more colors: green, the color of youth and vigor as she dragged me all the way to the woods behind the school to have me listen to the hummingbirds sing; blue, the color of calm and stability as she hugged me tight and covered my ears as I was shivering in fear, thunder resounding at horrible intervals outside my window; and red, the color of both love and war as she defended me against the kids who made fun of me for accidentally wearing my shirt the wrong way to school one day. To this day, I have no idea how I would've made it this far without Lilia's pink.

* * *

It was at Level 12 when I first learned of the color of sadness. I met my grandmother at Level 6, and she played the most beautiful Salut d'Amour I'd ever heard on piano. I insisted she teach me how to play, despite the fact I might find it difficult to read sheet music, and after days of annoying her 'till she agreed to teach me how to play the song, she finally gave in, telling me I was much like my father. Until now I never learned how to read sheet music; I never really wanted to, but ask me to play Salut d'Amour and my sound almost rivals my grandmother, however I could never quite match up to her. There was something quite different about the way she played, and I never learned her secret as she passed away at my Level 12. When I played the piece for the first time since her passing, I was introduced to the color grey once again. It wasn't just discomfort and confusion now, it was sadness as well, and I liked it less ever since. I never played the song again. * * *

Level 16, and I was surprised to hear my grandmother's sound in a boy's violin. It was the color of... unpredictability. Sometimes I see blue, sometimes red, sometimes yellow, and one time I was introduced to the color orange, the color of warmth, energy, and balance. For the first time ever in this game I've been playing, I was not introduced to a color; I was introduced to a painting. In this boy and his sound I have witnessed the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen, each time welcoming my ears as I stop in front of the music room to revel in the sight and the feeling. This was routine activity ever since me and Lily decided to walk around the school a bit before we went home one day, and Lily's been all up in my face ever since. She even found out what class he was in and went as far as to ask around for his name.

“Just for your sake,” she says, “his name is Kian.”

I don't admit it, because she sees it in my face anyway, but I can remember what red feels like when I hear him play his violin. * * *

Day and night I have been enamored with the sight of his sunsets, and every single time I am amazed with the war that forms in the colors I've known for so long; the joy of yellow engulfed in the warmth of orange, cradled all around by the calm of blue that encompasses the sky, and just when I thought this was as far as I could go, Kian suddenly stopped playing, picked up my presence, and invited me inside. He got ahold of my hand and led me to the piano. My mind was in turmoil and I was a mess of red and green and orange. I sat down.

“Andrea, right?”

Even his voice was a song in itself.

“Um, yeah. How did you know who I was?”

I silently gave myself a pat on the back for not messing that up.

“You're pretty famous for playing the piano without ever looking down at the keys.”

So even he knows about it.

“But I can only play one song. I can't even read sheet music.”

“Even for you, that's a whole new level of amazing.”

“You're amazing.”

Wait, what did I just say?

“What?”

“I said thank you.”

I could feel him smirking behind the piano.

“I was pretty sure you said something else.”

“Well I didn't peg you to be the cocky type.”

He laughed, and I laughed with him.

“Can you play the song for me?”

But I haven't played in ages.

“I can try.”

“Try?”

“It's just that... I haven't played for so long.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder and said, “you'll be fine, don't worry.”

And for some odd reason, I believed him, despite this being our first actual conversation.

My hands found the keys, and I let my instincts take over. They remembered the song for me, and I gladly followed suit. I played the first half surprisingly well, but I almost lost myself when Kian started playing his violin in time with my fingers; just when I thought sunsets made the prettiest paintings, the entire canvas rolled over and showed me a sky dotted with the moon and stars. In great contrast to the war of colors in sunsets, the truce in white and blue was found in our little duet, and I found myself lost in this world of night. As the song came to an end, I was faced with a lilac sky, the coming of dawn, as he said,

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

“You know Sarah Williams?” I asked in surprise.

“The Old Astronomer,” he smiled. * * *

Level 18, and Kian and I were given the honor to play Salut d'Amour in our graduation gowns, the hall silent with nothing but our painting of the night sky, along with the pink of Lilia staining her face, the blue of my father's tears evident next to my mother's yellow smile, and right as the song ended and gave rise to that very familiar lilac sky, Kian guided me from the piano to the front of the stage, holding my hand, and bowed to the audience before us. The cheers that erupted gave me red, yellow, orange, green, and I was so overwhelmed that I held Kian tighter, and he leaned in close amidst the chaos and told me the very same words that showed me red and blue, the very same words that make up my lilac sky. * * *

Level 22, and I narrate my story to a sniffling Lily to my right as she hastily jots down my sentences word for word, and I am introduced to the color brown as Kian makes his way to us and sets down the cups of coffee on the table. He sits next to me and holds my hand as I narrate to Lily, who is still crying for no good reason—

“There is a very good reason why I'm crying my eyes out.”

I see the comforting pink swirl in my vision.

“Yes, Lily. Of course you do.”

“Aw, she's pouting Andrea, cut her some slack.”

I see the calming lilac sky surround my mind's eye.

“No, it's fine Kian. I love her way too much to stay mad at her. I'm just... so proud of you Drea, you know? No one would've ever thought you'd go this far. Myself excluded.”

“Nice save, Lily,” I heard Kian say.

Level 22, and I've learned how to properly play the piano, even though I still can't read sheet music. Kian and I have been doing a number of performances for as long as I can remember, and I guess we've gotten a lot of recognition ever since.

Level 22, and my game is far from done.

My name is Andrea, I play the piano as Kian's accompaniment, and I was blind since the day I was born.

Written: March 10, 2016

#short story

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florrickandassociates · 6 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 2x13-- Day 492

FINALLY DONE WRITING THIS. Recap under the cut! Also, as soon as I post this, I’m going to work on updating my meta page where you can find links to posts about EVERY SINGLE EPISODE of TGW and TGF.

Dear writers: I’ll forgive Timeline Fuckery when it’s beyond your control. I understand that you’re shooting outdoor scenes in March/April when in the show it’s supposed to be late May, so there’s snow on the ground and everyone’s in coats. Fine. You can’t change the weather. And I understand that the Day ### titles are more symbolic than literal. But what’s your excuse for opening this episode with the date (May 27th, 2018) when you didn’t need to?

For one, May 27th, 2018 is a Sunday—and thus not a work day. Any calendar will tell you this. For another, Lucca goes into labor “two weeks early,” we’re told. In 2x06, she said the birth date was scheduled for May 22nd. Why do you do this, writers?! You didn’t have to give dates. You didn’t have to OPEN THIS EPISODE WITH THE DATE. And, if you’re going to use dates, at the very least, write them down somewhere!!!!

See, now I’m starting off the episode in Nitpick Mode (to be fair, I am usually in Nitpick Mode) when I could be starting off the episode simply happy to see the wonderful Lucca Quinn.

Lucca’s in court arguing a case about filming in Chicago. We saw this client earlier in the season—he’s the one who thought Lucca kept needing to use the bathroom.

Lucca and opposing counsel are standing really close to each other and I don’t know why.

Maia’s on this case now, too.

Lucca stops mid-sentence because… she’s going into labor! The client thinks she has to pee, then he thinks it’s a lawyerly trick (Lucca screams in pain as she says “all white facilities!!” which is hilarious).

The judge asks if Lucca needs a moment. She pretends she doesn’t, but that lasts all of a second before she screams “Yes! Yes! Recess! FUCK! Fuck!” and grabs opposing counsel to stable herself. Ah, that’s why he was standing so close to her.

Now Maia’s speeding through the city, with Lucca in the passenger seat with her legs up. Lucca complains about all the cases she’d planned to work on this week as Maia frantically pushes buttons on a cellphone. Bluetooth, Maia. Use Bluetooth and then you can keep both hands on the wheel and look at the road.

Maia has, and is using, Lucca’s phone, and Lucca doesn’t know it. Does Lucca not have a passcode?

Maia calls Colin and instead gets Francesca because I guess Lucca’s number for Colin is not his cell but rather… his mom’s house? But I don’t care, because Francesca is in the practice of answering her home phone with, “Morello Residence, Down with Trump.” I know Colin’s not going to be a regular next season, but can we keep Francesca around as a guest star?

Francesca is shocked that Lucca’s in labor because she thought they were inducing in two weeks. Yes. Because babies always arrive exactly when you schedule them.

Next, Lucca wants to call Diane.

When Diane tells Julius that Lucca’s in labor, Marissa overhears and freaks out.

“Listen, can you take Lucca’s place on the Violence Committee?” Diane asks Julius. (Not going to find another associate to do it? Only a partner? I guess Lucca is doing very well.)

“No! I have to get to the hospital,” Marissa replies before Julius can say anything. This is so Marissa—thinking a question that is OBVIOUSLY not directed at her would be directed at her. “Not you! She means me,” Julius corrects, but Marissa’s already run off.

When did Marissa and Lucca become so close? I know Marissa/Maia/Lucca kind of have a Workplace Friendship Trio thing going, but I feel like we’ve had a lot of Marissa/Maia and a lot of Maia/Lucca, and not as much Marissa/Lucca. I’m accepting it only because I like the idea of the Workplace Friendship Trio and if the show wants to give me Marissa/Lucca scenes, it can go right ahead.

Diane, meanwhile, is being interviewed by FBI agents, one of whom is the Gravedigger from Bones/Rhonda Pearlman from The Wire. At first, it seems like a standard background check, since Kurt’s applying for a position with the FBI. But they seem to be fishing for something related to people who’ve spent the night at Diane’s apartment.

In the last 6 months, Maia spent a few days at Diane’s apartment during the scandal. What? Not only does that timeline not make sense, but shouldn’t we have seen it if Maia was staying with Diane instead of living behind a clock during the scandal? I’m more upset we were denied that than I am about the timeline. This season—and last season—needed more Diane/Maia scenes to make Maia’s presence feel necessary and believable.

As soon as the agents leave, the score from 6x01 kicks in and suddenly I’m having lots of Cary Agos feelings. Diane walks slowly down the hallway, caught up in her thoughts.

“Hey. Is Lucca really giving birth?” Liz stops her, overjoyed. Awww!

Diane asks Liz if she has a minute. She explains her situation with the FBI, says she’s worried about one of her answers, and then does that thing people on this show do where they exchange a dollar to hire a colleague as a lawyer. Then Diane tells Liz she’s worried about someone else who stayed overnight: Tully.

Diane calls the FBI agent and mentions other people who stayed in her apartment, then sneaks in Tully’s name.

LMAOOOOO GUYS THERE IS WHAT APPEARS TO BE A PORTRAIT OF COMEY IN THE BACKGROUND OF THIS SCENE AND HE HAS DEVIL HORNS AND AN EYEPATCH LOLLOLLOLLOLLOL

“You’re fine,” Liz tells Diane when she hangs up. Diane isn’t so sure.

A man talks directly into the camera. “Kill all lawyers. That’s been the anthem for six months of copycat killers and assaulters. Well, today that ends,” he says. That’s a little meta. He’s talking to Adrian and Julius, so I guess this is the violence committee that Lucca was meant to be on and now I wish we’d gotten to see it with Lucca.

The mayor’s put together a committee to address this. Apparently, the best people are on the committee. They’ll get to spend ten million dollars. When Adrian and Julius walk into the room, it’s not what they’d expect. It’s Trump Appointee Trig (incompetent judge), Mr. Elk (whose name is Ted Willoughby but I will forever call him Mr. Elk because of the time he said, “things of that elk”), and… wait for it… the Peter Florrick loving drama teacher. This show has never met a guest star it didn’t want to bring back. (Well, I suppose that’s a lie: there’s always Nick Savarese.)

Mr. Elk is now on Fox News, which doesn’t make sense given that he was introduced as someone who would be friendly towards the Florricks, but does make sense given… well, HIM.

Adrian and Julius quickly realize they’re in a room with a bunch of idiots, and they don’t mince words in saying so. Adrian literally calls them “functioning idiots”, which they are. (The drama teacher is the smartest of the three.)

Adrian’s advised to just go with it and persuade them.

Marissa runs through the hospital trying to find Lucca. When she arrives, Maia is on the phone with Colin, Francesca wants to know how Colin’s doing (no sense of urgency…), and Lucca wants drugs. Marissa cannot figure out how to use a door.

Colin’s now on his way to the airport. He swears out of frustration with the fact he’s not there. “God, it’s good to hear someone swear, other than me,” Lucca replies. “FUCKING HELL,” she exclaims in pain.

“COCKSUCKER!” Francesca replies. Maia, Marissa, and Lucca stare at her. “MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER!” Marissa joins in. “Fucking asshole!” Maia says (she’s more hesitant than the others). Then they all start screaming cuss words and this is why streaming services exist, guys. To bring us hilarious scenes where women in maternity wards scream vulgarities at the top of their lungs.

Kurt’s being interviewed by the FBI next. First question is about the Rindell fund. Second is about the neighbor who spent the night. Third is Tully. They make a point of mentioning he stayed overnight. “Does this apartment have more than one bedroom?” they ask. Oof. They aren’t even trying to be subtle.

Diane’s at aikido and she has a missed call from Kurt and a mysterious letter in her bag. “Conspiracy carries a life sentence. If you want my help, leave a flower pot in your office window and I’ll meet you at your parking space,” it reads.

Diane asks Liz if she’s noticed the Trump mask people. “They dance, and have sex wearing Trump masks.” Liz doesn’t believe her. “I think that’s an insurance firm,” she laughs. Who knows, these days? (That’s the point!)

Then the phone rings. FBI again. They want to ask Diane a question in person.

The FBI agents aren’t thrilled to see that Diane’s brought along a lawyer. “This isn’t adversarial,” one says. Right. That’s what they always say.

Their question: Tully’s made threats against the president and wants to know what Diane knows. They won’t reveal their sources. And they’ve subpoenaed Diane to testify at a grand jury.

Back at the office, Diane picks up a vase of flowers and the camera follows it to the window. Once Diane sets down the vase, it morphs into the vase from the credits. Of course it does. Robert King directed this episode. (This isn’t as awesome as the graphic match in 5x01 (Alicia in profile) but it’s still pretty damn cool.)

The cast list for this episode is insanely fantastic.

The violence committee is exactly as farcical as you’d expect. Killer bees, fake news, a rendition of Annie Get Your Gun with puppies instead of guns… yeah.

Adrian’s idea: a gun buyback program. No one understands this (except maybe Julius). Trig instead wants an “I HEART LAWYERS” ad campaign. Oh my. Mr. Elk suggests a jingle, and No 1 Florrick Fan begins to sing. “I love lawyers. They’re employers.”

There’s calming music playing in Lucca’s hospital room now, but it’s not working. Oh, and Lucca’s mom’s on her way. Francesca’s excited to meet Lucca’s mother, and Lucca’s not at all excited.

Maia tries to change the subject to make Lucca feel better, and Marissa provides a new discussion topic: Lucca moving to D.C. Lucca says she’s not sure she’s going and Francesca acts like it’s a done deal.

Diane goes to her parking spot for her secret meeting. Her new friend announces herself with a ringtone that goes “Fuzzy fuzzy cute cute” because… the Kings wrote this episode.

Diane’s new friend—a young, well-dressed blonde—tells her she’s being targeted because of her firm’s involvement with the impeachment suit and the pee-pee tape. (Side note, I discovered a few days ago that two of my friends had never heard of the pee tape???? Sometimes I think I underestimate just how niche the audience for some of the jokes on TGW/F is.)

“So, what do I call you? Deep Throat?” Diane asks. “No, I don’t do deep throat. Just double penetration and girl-on-girl,” she replies. BWAH. “You’re a porn star?” Diane asks. “I direct now,” she replies. Diane starts to turn away, but New Friend has a point. Trump is terrified of her, and she’s covered by an NDA. “Follow the women,” she advises. The women are the weaknesses of powerful men. Diane looks around and she’s gone. Only not really, because she’s just made her exit to the wrong side of the parking garage and has to double back. Heh.

Liz finds Diane’s mysterious encounter hard to believe. “I know. I’ve spend the last six months in a haze of not knowing what was crazy and what was not. I still don’t know,” Diane states.

Jay shows up, asks about Lucca, and then switches over to helping Diane (continuity is good). Diane notes that the same prosecutor (though I thought he was an ICE agent last ep?) who tried to deport Jay is working on this. Looks like RBL is a target.

Jay’s task is to follow the women.

Tully pulls Diane aside before she testifies and gives her more talk about being rebellious. “Everything I said I am proud of,” Tully offers as an explanation for why he waived attorney-client privilege. The thing about people like Tully—and I don’t mean this because Tully is a radical but rather because Tully is an entitled asshole—is that they don’t care how their actions affect others. Does he care he’s making Diane’s life difficult? Nope.

“Now go give ‘em hell, gorgeous,” Tully says in closing. Adding “gorgeous” really endears me to him. (Just kidding, it makes me loathe him even more!)

Is there some sort of symbolism to Diane’s last name being Lockhart while the prosecutor’s is Basehart? Some kind of doubleing thing?

Diane puts on her Grand Jury face, but it doesn’t work for long because Tully is the worst and also surveillance is everywhere… including Diane’s bedroom. The prosecutor has a recording of Diane and Tully’s conversation about loaded guns from a few episodes back.

And it looks quite incriminating. Diane is pissed. She accuses Tully of taping it, and Tully says Diane has been bugged. Maybe they were listening through her cell phone like they used to listen to Alicia! This is Diane’s next thought too—maybe not the Alicia part, but the phone part—and she destroys her phone’s SIM card.

Jay thinks he’s found a woman to follow. It’s a good start.

“Is this the plan? Blackmailing him?” Liz wants to know. “Yes. Why?” Diane responds like it’s nothing. “Well, it just seems a little sleazy,” Liz warns. Aren’t you the one who suggested making up lies to impeach Trump? (I do not mind Liz being contradictory, because the very first thing we learned about Liz way back in season four of Wife is that she is very good at justifying the things she does while believing everyone else is in the wrong. This isn’t a strategy she concocted, of course she’d question it.) (Also it is sleazy. But not too much sleazier than other things that’ve happened on this show.)

“They’re out to destroy us. If ever there was a time for situational ethics, it’s now,” Diane adds. Did anyone else feel like this episode was dramatic but also not the most dramatic despite how high the stakes are? Maybe it’s just nine years of this or the lack of build-up to this episode or the fact that situational ethics are the bread and butter of this show. (Situational “ethics” perhaps because sometimes… yeah.)

Here’s a fun thought-starter: Imagine a The Good Fight/Wife crossover with The Good Place. Specifically, imagine how Chidi would react to this (or, honestly, any episode).

So I just mentioned lack of build-up, and I didn’t mean that (necessarily) as a bad thing because I think thematically the season was building towards this, and Tully’s been annoying me with his presence since episode 4. On the other hand, the stakes get very high very fast and that never makes it easy to fully understand and embrace just how bad things might be. A fast-paced episode of twists and turns is exhilarating to watch but it never makes me think about just how much all of this would weigh on a person. I’m not really thinking, “wow what would happen if Diane goes to jail” because I doubt that will happen, and I’m not really thinking about how Diane would experience this. Instead I’m thinking about ethics and how often powerful men are skeezeballs and surveillance. And I think the writers are probably more interested in those topics than they are in Diane.

I dunno, maybe it’s just me and my attachment to Alicia Florrick, but I just can’t get inside the minds of any of the TGF characters for more than a few minutes. Diane has been hard to read this season, for me, because so much of her plot is more the Kings reflecting on Trump than an arc for her (and the writers really wasted what was a good arc for her in season 1). Maia’s not interesting enough to spend time analyzing—she’s not inconsistent but I just do not care about her other than to insist that she spend more time working. Lucca and Liz are, I think, the characters I’ve found the most compelling this year… but I want to see more.

What I loved most about The Good Wife was (obviously) Alicia’s journey. I was attached to the other characters, too, but not in the way I was attached to Alicia. And that was fine, because they were supporting characters who got just enough development that I could analyze their character arcs without feeling they were under-developed. And I LOVED the world TGW built and the questions it posed about structures and politics and technology and the present day. I still love that world.

I guess where I’m going with this is that TGF gives me a lot of things I love—mainly more of the TGW characters and world but adjusted for the Trump era—but it doesn’t deliver the same kind of character development. That’s fine. I don’t need TGF to have an Alicia; it’s a different show focused on an ensemble rather than one lead. I still love The Good Fight a lot and I think it’s great television. I just don’t feel the same connection to it that I felt to Wife.

I have no idea how I ended up on this topic. But I think where I’m going with this is that it would never take me three weeks to write a recap of even the most boring TGW episode, and I’ve been putting off writing this. I feel like I have much less to say about Fight than Wife, and most of the times I get carried away writing things that aren’t rants about Maia are times when I’m comparing the shows or… talking about Alicia, a character who was mentioned a total of one time in season 2. I’m sure part of this is that I’ve changed (when Wife was on, I was in college with lots of pockets of free time, a pretty small social life, a much more active fandom to participate in, etc.; now I work full time and don’t always feel like writing long recaps after a long day of work (and I also rarely start up my personal laptop anymore now that I don’t have to write papers), I have friends I see frequently, fandom is like four or five people these days), but I think most of it is that the show isn’t delivering the thing that motivated me to start writing these long-ass recaps.

… and another week has passed. How am I not finished with this yet?

The FBI agents are back for Kurt, along with Basehart. I’m distracted by two things in this scene: the flowers on the trees outside, because they look enough like cherry blossoms to remind me of BrainDead, and the fact that Alicia’s teal box with the white dots on it is for some reason in Diane’s living room. DON’T THINK I DIDN’T NOTICE.

The agents want to know about a gun that Kurt gave to Diane. Kurt, instead of answering, stands up and says “I have no more answers for you.” “Your wife is about to be indicted,” Basehart says. That’s new.

“I don’t like to swear, so understand this is purely for emphasis: Get the fuck out of our house. No. I mean it. Get the fuck out of our house,” Kurt yells at Basehart. Hee.

Kurt phones Diane, and Diane heads home.

In the Violence Prevention Committee, Mr. Elk is showing the others a clip from his show that I’ll call Elk & Friends. He explains that on Elk & Friends they’re told to address Trump because he watches.

Adrian’s almost convinced Florrick Fan to vote with him when Rahm’s advisor guy whose name I’ve forgotten because I started writing this a month ago adds someone new to the panel: a woman who works for the NRA. L O L

Lucca’s doctor arrives at the hospital looking for Lucca’s room. Francesca immediately hugs her, assuming that any black woman looking for Lucca must be Lucca’s mother. “I was just wondering whether your family is from Tanzania or Nigeria,” Francesca says as a greeting, which… oof. “I just got back from a luxury safari in Tanzania,” she adds. Of course she did.

“Here she is, safe and sound!” Francesca loudly announces to Lucca, Marissa, Maia, and… the woman who actually is Lucca’s mother. That’s when Lucca’s doctor finally has an opportunity to introduce herself.

“Oh! You’re not Lucca’s mom?” Francesca asks. “No, that’s me,” Deirdre Quinn says. They got Judith Light to play Lucca’s mom. This show has the best casting. “I don’t think I understand,” Francesca says because she does not understand that it is possible to be biracial.

“Put her out of her misery, mom,” Lucca chimes in. “Danny, we have someone who needs visual evidence,” Deirdre snarks. You can tell this has happened before.

“Hi. Danny Quinn,” Lucca’s father (who is black) introduces himself. “Now I see the resemblance!” Francesca responds because her default mode is casually racist. “I mean, not that there needed to be a resemblance,” she adds.

The doctor asks for some people to leave the room, so Maia and Marissa head back to work. (The captions identify Maia as saying “we have to get back to work” but, fittingly, it’s actually Marissa who says it.)

“Fuck!” Lucca exclaims, and Francesca dives right back in to screaming MOTHERFUCKER even though the only people who understand what she’s doing have already left. I love Francesca. She would drive me crazy. But she is so amusing.

Julius is on Adrian’s side in the Violence Prevention Committee. How long is it before Julius becomes a liberal?

NRA Lady insists that the problem isn’t just guns: a lawyer was also killed in a hit and run. “Majority were shot,” Adrian notes. NRA Lady says she likes the ad campaign but she wants to spend the money to arm and train lawyers. OF FUCKING COURSE SHE DOES, SHE WORKS FOR THE GODDAMN NRA.

NRA Lady has a video to show the men on the panel. It’s a woman in a bikini with a gun. Great point. Trig, Mr. Elk, and Florrick Fan all stand up to watch the informative video. “It was a very hot day, so they had to make do,” NRA Lady adds.

She also has a bullet proof briefcase, which totally would’ve helped Adrian… not. UGH.

At their apartment, Diane warns Kurt not to talk. They turn on loud music and Diane whispers to Kurt, “I think I’m being bugged.” They decide to talk on the computer instead. I would maybe opt for pen and paper here?

“FBI says you will be indicted.” Kurt writes. Diane takes the keyboard: “Grand jury questioning me again in one hour.” Kurt: “They asked me about your gun.” Diane: “What did you say?” Kurt: “Go to hell.” Diane: “I want to fuck you right now”.

UGH I LOVE THEM A LOT AND KURT NEVER CHEATED THAT NONSENSE DIDN’T HAPPEN BECAUSE LOOK AT HOW GOOD THEY ARE TOGETHER.

“Kurt. They may ask you about someone named Tully,” Diane says later, in bed. Doesn’t Kurt already know about Tully? Didn’t they discuss Tully by name two episodes ago? “I need to tell you…” Diane adds. Kurt says no, she doesn’t need to tell him because they’re starting over. Yes, please.

“Epidural. Epidural,” Lucca can’t stop saying. “Those are pretty words.” Her dad corrects her: it’s one word. Heh.

“Are you and mom intentionally not fighting because of me?” Lucca asks, and suddenly I understand a lot more about Lucca’s life. “No, we don’t fight anymore,” her dad responds. “Why’s that?” Lucca asks. Her dad deflects and instead chooses to focus on how Lucca helped Dominic. “That was a bad segue,” Lucca remarks. But she changes the subject, too.

Outside of the room, Francesca and Deirdre are discussing Colin and Lucca’s relationship. “So they’re not getting married?” Deirdre asks. Francesca confirms that they’re not, but “it’s a different time.” “Why is that?” Deirdre asks. Francesca thinks (and I agree) that Deirdre is just looking to fight.

Deirdre is not without her reasons: Francesca immediately asked Deirdre her opinion on Black Panther and sang a Tanzanian song. Francesca remains clueless and asks Deirdre if she’s seen Get Out.

Back at the grand jury, Diane’s asked about her gun. She says she had it melted down after Adrian was shot, and adds that she wanted nothing to do with guns. “I saw what one did to my partner.” (Which partner do you mean, Diane?)

Next question is about representing the DNC, and if Diane argued for the violent overthrow of the government, complete with a recording of 2x07. (No, Maia’s sex tape isn’t mentioned in this episode. Maybe in five seasons.) (While I’m on that note, have I mentioned that I don’t think we need to hear about the tape to hear about Maia’s relationship? I don’t really care if there’s a tape we never hear about again… I’m much more upset that Maia cheated and that was the last thing we got to know about her relationship.)

Liz informs Ruth about the leaked recording. Ruth isn’t surprised. (Ruth is SO good on TGF.) In fact, Ruth was the one who leaked the tape because she’s playing the long-game. She’s basically making an example of Diane in order to show the DNC isn’t biased.

“You fucked her!” Liz accuses. “No, we acted responsibly,” Ruth argues (ummm). “She fucked herself. I’m sorry for your friend, Liz, but I want to win. The Democrats need to stop being such pussies. We have to win.” Ouch.

Colin finally gets to the hospital! Just in time! “Where’s the epidural?” Lucca’s asking. The doctor explains they’ve curbed the effect because it’s time to push. “You motherfucker! You bring the drugs back!” Lucca screams. Hehe. “You cocksucking asshole!” Francesca chimes in. I bet Lucca’s son’s first word is going to be “fuck.” And I don’t think Lucca will mind if it is.

Apparently Lucca’s family is religious, or at least Francesca has reason to believe that.

Oh, yes, they are: Lucca’s mom wants the baby to be baptized and has chosen now to tell Francesca. Colin jumps into action and kicks the parents out.

And Lucca doesn’t seem opposed to the idea of a baptism either, which caught me by surprise (I assumed she was an atheist) but doesn’t really sound too off.

The partners are waiting up to hear if Lucca’s given birth yet. It’s been 14 hours of labor. Why are they waiting for a phone call that might not even come that night? Why would they even expect to be notified the minute the baby was born and not the next day?

Either (a) No one at the firm ever has children so this is a huge event or (b) Lucca’s an extremely important employee. I’m hoping option b is the explanation here.

Marissa and Jay are still working—it’s gotta be midnight by now; maybe the partners are gathered because of Diane’s legal trouble and are also expecting a call from Lucca? Sorry, I am stuck on this. After the way the partners reacted to Lucca’s pregnancy earlier in the season, I would not expect this kind of reaction from them.

Anyway, Marissa and Jay followed the women and found out that Basehart is a good guy (or at least was being a good guy when he helped the pretty young blonde).

The phone rings. Adrian answers. It’s Colin. “Lucca wanted me to call you and tell you that… we have a son.” Congratulations, Lucca!!!! (And Colin lol. I am reading this over and I have realized I congratulated Lucca and not Colin.)

Lucca and Colin’s son, Joseph Quinn-Morello, was born at 1:15 am. Awwwww.

The partners toast to Joseph, and to the future. “May he make a change for a better world,” Diane says. “God knows we need it,” Liz adds. I still don’t buy that this is happening but it’s so sweet I’ll set aside the nitpicking. This scene also contains continuity (I think it’s later that someone comments the champagne is left over from the poorly attended party in 2x04) so yay!

Colin and Lucca discuss how crazy their parents are. “I don’t think I’ll like DC,” Lucca says next. “Give it a year and I bet you will,” Colin says. Lucca doesn’t respond, but she’s not convinced.

The bottle of champagne is gone and Adrian suggests going home. “You know, a year ago… we were looking out at a blacked-out Chicago and I was depressed, and you said to me that the only constant that we have is the law. We’re not a country of men and women; we’re a country of laws. Do you still believe that?” Diane asks. “Yes,” Adrian replies. “That took you a while,” Diane comments. “It’s been a very odd year, Diane,” Adrian says as Liz takes a seat and joins the conversation. (I guess Julius went home to his, er, SIX CHILDREN).

“Yesterday I read that an undocumented pregnant woman was sent back to the country where she was born. There were death threats against her there, and within six months, she was murdered. It was the law to deport her, but, I mean, it wasn’t…” Diane remarks. “Just,” Liz finishes her sentence. “Exactly. What does it matter if we’re a country of laws if the laws aren’t just?” Diane wonders. “What option do we have?” Adrian asks. “Placing justice above the law?” Liz suggests. “Doesn’t justice define the law?” Adrian counters. “Mmmhmm. Conscience does. It has to,” Liz replies. “So then… it’s okay to break the law?” Adrian wonders. Liz and Diane consider this. “If it offends your conscience, yeah,” Liz concludes.

SO MUCH to unpack here. None of these are ideas we haven’t heard before from this show, but they’re coming together in new ways. Diane is well aware that the law is not always just. She’s counted on that to win cases. Wasn’t she always telling Alicia in the early seasons that they follow the law? That their duty is to represent their clients blah blah blah? But she didn’t find it to be a moral offense then—just part of the job. But now Diane questions the structures. I don’t think many of us thought that our systems could fail in the way they’re starting to. And I don’t think many of us were aware of how backwards some of our laws are. Certainly, The Good Wife often hit on that theme (remember how the NSA came to listen to all of Peter Florrick’s calls because Nisa once left a voicemail in tears on the Florrick family’s answering machine?). But there’s a difference between encountering instances of unjust laws and realizing (or coming to feel) that the entire system is unjust. I am not sure if I completely agree with Diane and Liz, but I understand where they’re coming from and why their positions have changed.

(I say changed because I don’t think either Diane or Liz would’ve ever talked like this pre-45. But I do think Liz especially felt this way before. The ends justify the means, and all that.)

(Also, “an odd year” (or “a weird year”) is a line that has been uttered like twenty times on this show. And the idea of ignoring rules that you find unjust is something Alicia LOVED to do, albeit in a different context. I could expand on that comment but then I’d end up writing an essay on Alicia Florrick’s morality, which has nothing to do with the discussion Diane/Liz/Adrian are having and nothing to do with the current political moment.)

One more thing on this scene: I love that Liz is included!!! Liz has worked so well as an addition to this cast.

Diane gets an idea: Lying. She asks Adrian to give Ted Willoughby some scoop at the next committee meeting

NRA lady gets her way (ugh), but Adrian agrees to write the proposal, thinking no one from the committee will actually read it so he can just write his own policies. This seems dangerous, but alright.

Then Adrian slips Mr. Elk the scoop. He knows it’s false, but leaks it anyway to help Diane. I know this is the result of a conversation about ethics and lying, but no one’s lying in court AND this is reminiscent of so many other manipulations on TGW/F that I’m not really sure it feels as monumental as it seems? I’m 99.9% sure Diane’s done stuff like this just to win cases. And if Diane hasn’t, Will definitely did. Isn’t it a very common strategy (on this show) to suggest in court that affairs there’s no evidence of were going on? And didn’t they literally create fake news to sway a jury twice this season? I don’t even have to go back more than a couple of episodes to find an example!

Lucca’s heading home from the hospital. “So, Colin, huh,” her mom says. “Well that sounds critical,” Lucca replies. “No. He just seems a little more white bread than your usual guys,” her mom observes. Lucca calls him a good guy, and her mom is like, but he wasn’t here when you were in labor. YEAH. TWO WEEKS EARLY. OF ALL THE THINGS TO HOLD AGAINST COLIN WHY THIS ONE?

“I’m going to give you some advice, Lucca. It’s the garage door test. My mom gave it to me, and I’m going to give it to you. Now, if you want to know if a relationship is working, when you drive home from work and you open the garage door, are you happy when you see his car parked there, or are you disappointed?” Deirdre says. “I live in an apartment,” Lucca retorts. “Don’t be contentious. If you see his car parked on the street, are you happy or sad? Do you want to come home and be alone or be with him?” Deirdre continues.

“Mama, I don’t like coming home and seeing anybody there, ever,” Lucca explains. “Well, then there’s your answer,” Deirdre says. “What? That I should be alone for the rest of my life?” Lucca wonders. “No. Wait until you’re happy to see someone’s car,” Deirdre explains. Good advice. And I bet Lucca’s heard it before, because it’s the exact same advice she gives Alicia in the TGW series finale. (I’m not upset that Lucca’s mom is giving her advice she herself has given to others before. I think it makes sense. She had to get that idea from somewhere, and her mom’s probably talked like this many times before, just not directly to Lucca.)

“Are you and dad getting divorced?” Lucca switches the topic. Deirdre’s silence is all the answer she needs. “I love you,” Deirdre says.

On the drive back from the hospital, Lucca looks sad. She’s lost in thought, and she’s realized at once that she’s not with the person she wants to spend her future with and her parents are splitting up.

Colin tells Lucca that Maia and Marissa want to stop by. Lucca smiles at that. And, indeed, there they are, in Maia’s car (just in case it wasn’t clear that they’re the ones happy to come home to!). “I can get rid of them fast,” Colin offers. “No! I want them here,” Lucca decides. “I just realized I want them here,” she says to herself. YES! YES YES YES!

I’m much more invested in Lucca’s friendships than in her romantic relationships. One of the first things we learned about Lucca was that she didn’t have friends, and it means a lot that she’s finally found people who make her happy. Friendships can be fulfilling. Not everyone needs a romantic relationship to be happy, and I love that the show is finally acknowledging this. The idea of a life without a romantic partner that’s still happy and fulfilling isn’t really one Wife ever allowed Alicia to explore for long (if at all), and I’m glad to see that Fight has given its most guarded character the chance to realize there are different paths to happiness. Wife did allow Diane to have a fulfilling life before Kurt came along, but there’s a difference, I feel, between starting off a character in that spot and having a character actively choose friends over a relationship.

(Yes, I’m still bitter that the TGW finale spent so much time having Alicia choose among Peter, Jason, and somehow inexplicably Will when she could’ve chosen herself or her friendship with Lucca. The TGW finale sidelines Lucca when I think it should’ve doubled down on the importance of her friendship with Alicia—which, tbh, I bought a hundred million times more than any of Alicia’s romantic feelings towards Jason.)

Mr. Elk runs the story—we see Diane watching it. Also on the Ted & Friends homepage? “Darkness Before Noon Season Finale Flops.” If I squint, I can read some of the text of the article: “The ??? ??? (highly literal? Liberal??) streaming show found it’s [sic] season finale to be a ratings failure, despite the streaming service not releasing ratings. Inside sources claim the show is on the bubble.” Soooooooo the writers didn’t know if they were getting a season 3, is what I’m getting. Sneaky.

(ALWAYS READ THE TEXT THAT’S ON SCREEN BECAUSE YOU’LL GET SNARK AND ALSO DELICIOUS LINGUISTICS.)

One of the hosts suggests that the president fire Basehart. Diane and Liz smile. Diane moves the flower pot back to the window: “This past month, I’ve been feeling at peace and in control. And I realized that’s not enough. Because people are out to get me. It’s time to fight.”

Soooo the case against Diane is wrapped up if you want it to be and open if you don’t, and there’s a suggested arc for season 3 if you want there to be (a more rebellious Diane). This is classic season-or-series finale writing. If the show stopped here, with Lucca choosing her friends and then Diane declaring “it’s time to fight,” it might not be the best ending but it would feel like an ending. But if the show goes on from here, there are still stories to tell. Between that Darkness Before Noon article and the way the end of this episode feels, I would bet that the Kings didn’t know if the show would be renewed when they wrote this episode.

The closing shot of the season is all of the partners going into a meeting while a computer plays a clip announcing that Kill All Lawyers has given way to Kill All Reporters. Y’all, this is pretty much how they ended BrainDead: suggesting that the main arc was concluded (bugs eating brains of politicians) but there could be more to come (bugs on Wall Street). To end TGF, though, we get an ominous clip of Trump referring to an upcoming “storm.” I don’t know what to say about that, but it’s terrifying!

I’m sure I’ve said this before, but season 2 of TGF feels, at times, more like BrainDead than The Good Wife, and that’s a good thing. I’m eager to rewatch BrainDead. I have a feeling it’ll play differently now than it did in summer 2016.

One final thought: Have you guys heard of something called Trumpy Bear? The other day, I was watching an episode of Younger On Demand, when all of the sudden, what looked like an ad for religious programming came on. “A storm is coming. You cannot defeat the storm. I am the storm. The great American grizzly,” it began. (I think this is a reference to the same quote the TGF finale ended on!) Then confetti poured down the screen. Turns out this wasn’t an ad for a religious show: it was an ad for a stuffed bear with Trump’s hairdo. The bear contains an American flag blanket. The ad shows a bunch of white people cuddling with the bear, taking it golfing, and brushing its hair. I swear to you I did not make this up. You can go on YouTube and find ads for this. It really exists.

But it took me at least fifteen minutes to acknowledge that I hadn’t accidentally taken some of Diane’s psilocybin and hallucinated it. I rewound the program and took a video on my phone. I sent the video or a link to the infomercial (once I found it) to at least ten people. I needed others to tell me this was real because I was staring at the screen in disbelief. When I sent it to some people, I made the TGF reference. To others, I just said, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” and three people (100% of the TGF viewers I sent it to without the upfront joke) replied with their own TGF references.

My point here? The Kings are on to something. This season of TGF captured exactly how it feels to be living through these times.

Also, I still need people to tell me that teddy bear is real. I am SCARRED.

#The Good Fight #TGFThoughts

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talktoten-a · 6 years

Text

LAYER 001 : THE OUTSIDE.

NAME. The Doctor. EYE COLOR. Brown. Warm. HAIR STYLE / COLOR. Also brown, and sticky-uppy. He doesn’t use product, or vehemently refuses to admit to it. HEIGHT. 6′1″. CLOTHING STYLE. All a man needs, is two good suits. The Doctor wears his blue suit with red converse and his brown suit with cream converse, and he does love his trench. The trenchcoat is not for warmth (he’s cold-blooded), it’s protection from solid blunt-force impact. It’s also good to offer people on cold nights. He can’t use it. BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE. He loves his hair. He is thrilled about his hair. His best feature is his smile.

LAYER 002 : THE INSIDE.

HIS FEARS. Not being wholly and freely in control of himself, physically or otherwise (see: 42, Midnight, etc), and his friends dying. I was going to mention his fear of reality-not-being-real, of his-interpretation-of-reality-being-fabricated-or-false, but mostly that plays into the ‘not being wholly in control of himself’and actually that’s a very solid thing about him: he will never be too scared to trust himself. If you and the whole rest of the city tell him he’s hallucinating a monster, he’ll still run from it. The Doctor trusts his gut. If that means assuming the rest of the world is lying, he will choose to do that. It’s a dangerous thing. HIS GUILTY PLEASURE. Things that go bump in the night. HIS BIGGEST PET PEEVE. Defeatism. He’s got no patience for it. ‘I could never do that’ - have you ever TRIED? He can’t do people who sit still, he doesn’t understand it. He can’t fathom not getting yourself stuck into something, much less a problem. Do something! HIS AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE. Most desperately, the Doctor wants to never find out everything there is to find out, and he wants to never see all of the universe, and he wants to never know everything about his friends, and he wants to never be finished. The Doctor died and he wasn’t finished yet, but he never would have been - and if he had, he’d have been devastated. He wasn’t finished yet, and that was good. It was awful, and sad, but it was good.

LAYER 003 : THOUGHTS.

HIS FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP. When he sleeps well (and binges sleep he’s missed so say goodbye for 2-3 days), he tends to drift back on something positive because he’s just fully rested for the first time in god knows and it’s wonderful. I am thinking about John Smith, now, actually, from Family of Blood. His dreams were of Rose, of the monsters and adventures they’d most recently had - he didn’t know to nightmare about the Time War and he actually did not. I know the Doctor clings to his PTSD but he found that a good enough reason to lock it away. That’s a whole meta. I want to write that meta. Maybe I’m wrong about nightmares. WHAT HE THINKS ABOUT MOST. Probably by default, because he spends a lot of time there and because he likes to play with her wires, the TARDIS. Sometimes he longs for her, whn he’s spent time away for a while. The Doctor can survive anything, so long as he’s still got his ship. It does not matter who he loses or what happens. So long as the Doctor still has his ship, he can do anything - people underestimate how much sheer love he has for her. She’s incredible. If you love his ship with him he will love you. WHAT HE THINKS ABOUT BEFORE BED. Sleep. He is the sort to not sleep until he can drop off, exhausted, thinking only about how much sleep he’s going to get and how much he is going to be less tired and oh my god that will be great. Also, sometimes, something funny one of his friends said, or something that caught his attention - some challenge which proves to be right. Their words do stick with him and when he’s healthier (i.e. when he’s TRAVELLING WITH SOMEONE) he’s usually thinking about something they said or did to challenge him. The Doctor does a lot of introspection too which is awful, because it is literally one of the worst ways to learn about yourself (and there’s a source for that too, journal article sources, but I can’t be bothered I had 4hrs’ sleep leave me alone). HE THINKS HIS BEST QUALITY IS. He thinks he’s hilarious, and he’s right. And he thinks he tries, and he’s right, even though he’s less sure on that one.

LAYER 004 : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES. Single. TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED. Loved. BEAUTY OR BRAINS. "There’s a difference?” DOGS OR CATS. Dogs. I disagree with him, but the Doctor likes his pet. He also doesn’t mind cats, except when they’re stealing all of the attention that should be being paid to him.

LAYER 005 : DOES HE…

LIE. Yep! BELIEVE IN HIMSELF. Yes. BELIEVE IN LOVE. Yes. He’s a dumb romantic idiot man. WANT SOMEONE. No. He fancies a couple people (Rose, Astrid, Ludivine, and dare I say madame de pompadour but not really #noffat), but he does not want anything to eventuate. As yet. I’ve written about it before, I do think that there’s a potential there for wanting something - I think on a better day, he would have tried. (Incidentally, if the Doctor were to ever actually experiment, he would snog someone once and find out that no, he doesn’t want it. No, that’s not for him. No, as much as he enjoyed the kiss, he doesn’t want that anymore, or at least not now, not as 10. But for an instant he would have wanted to want it, which is progress, anyway.)

LAYER 006 : HAS HE EVER…

BEEN ON STAGE. Yes. DONE DRUGS. Yes. (Not with intent.) CHANGED WHO HE WAS TO FIT IN. Hahahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahahhahahaha, no.

LAYER 007 : FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOUR. TARDIS blue. FAVORITE ANIMAL. He loves K9, and he also has an affinity for sea cucumbers. Quoting myself: “I’ll tell you what though, the Doctor does also have an odd sort of affinity for sea cucumbers - there’s something about them, I’m not really sure what it is. He thinks they’re fun. Squishy. Mostly he just thinks they’re this weird sort of alien do-nothing which lives underwater for some reason and he thinks that’s really cool, if a little boring. I think if he actually encountered a sea cucumber, he would be underwhelmed.” FAVORITE GAME. He doesn’t know, but he LOATHES checkers. (He’s really rubbish at it. What do you mean, you move diagonally? Why not just DEAL WITH THE ISSUE HEAD ON this is so bad what a bad game he quits)

LAYER 008 : AGE.

DAY HIS NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE. Sometime in late March or early April. Human calendars are strange - he had the hang of it and then July and August were shoved in there and now he’s not really sure, but March or early April. Probably the 4th of April. That might be a new headcanon. I did select it completely arbitrarily. HOW OLD WILL HE BE. 915.

LAYER 009 : FINISH THE SENTENCE.

I LOVE laughing. I FEEL responsible. I HIDE. I MISS the burnt-up stars. I WISH to keep going.

tagged by stolen from: @voleuxe tagging: @trickstercaptain @dxdger @bountyman @minamxrray @thoughtiwasalive @moroniic @museinfusion @pawprintsonmoonbeams + anyone else who’s interested!

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hayleymarshalldaily · 6 years

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can I ask something because I'm confused and I feel like your the best person who could maybe explain. Why do people say hayley was pregnant for over a year (most commonly i see 13ms) ? why do people say hope's birthday was in may? i have scoured episodes for definite dates / references that hope was definitely conceived in april and born may the next year? its one of the biggest criticisms i see of the TO show and i feel like im missing something because i dont remember it, sorry to bother you!

Honestly I think it all stems from the wikia which people generally use as the bible of TO/TVD related stuff. They say that Hope was born the 2nd May 2012 after being conceived 24th March 2011.

Tbh I’d argue that both timelines (the actual show’s / the wikia’s timeline) is inaccurate tbh. It seems like (from me going over it quickly - so people feel free to correct me here) that the timeline puts a lot of TO / TVD events happening concurrently when there’s no proof they happened at the same time. Assuming that they skipped the same amount of time etc at the same time etc

There’s also stuff like this

“Damon mentions it’s been days since Elena turned off her humanity, most likely Elena hasn’t been at school for weeks since Jeremy’s death, so that some time has passed.”

So they’ve skipped around 6 weeks… it could’ve been a helluva lot longer than that? Half of this is guesswork (with all respect to the people that sat and ‘worked’ this out, it is guesswork with some logic behind it, but it is guess work all the same)

And again, there’s this

Note: Elena could have been locked up for many weeks trying to get her humanity back it couldn’t have happened over a few days, so most of May was all about this.

They’re skipping another 5 weeks here just to get to the 15th of June because that’s when the full moon ‘technically’ was in that month that year which leads me to my next point;

It also seems like they’re applying a lot of real world logic that I dont think the writers would’ve ever even looked at. (like the example i mentioned above for graduation they quote that gradation tend to happen in June and on that particular year the full moon was june 15th so that HAD to be the day even though I’d put money on it that the writers never looked at the Lunar Calendar. So ‘logically’ in the real world yes graduation happened on that day but it prolly didn’t in the TO timeline)

for the second skip, that could’ve been legit just a week. Which means if they’re insisting on sticking to the June 15th thing, they could’ve added a whole extra month onto the first time skip, meaning that Hope wasn’t concieved in march at all but at the end of April (doesn’t completely rectify the situation with how long Hayley is apparently pregnant, but still, I’m just showing here how the wikia’s timeline isn’t infallible and can be tweaked)

Hope’s conception could’ve easily happened later if for example Carol’s memorial had taken place later on than the wikia states it did. If things happened over a longer time span than the wikia says.

It depends how you want to look at it, going off season 2 canon;

Hope’s first Christmas was when she around 5 months old in 2012 (Hayley said she spent 6 months of Hope’s life away from her in 215 and then there was some time Hope spent with Cami and Elijah which Hayley said as weeks. Phoebe also said the twins were five months when they started filming *and* the casting call was for babies around that age) which means her birthday should be July 2012 which means she should’ve been conceived around 2011 October the previous year. But if Hope was conceived in March 2011, she should’ve been born in December 2011.

However, going off season 4 canon;

Rebekah said she spent eight months with Hope as a baby

Which if Hope were born May 2nd 2012 as the wikia is quoting, Hope would’ve been near enough 8 months old at Christmas. So if you go by Rebekah’s retcon, the wikia is right on her birth date

If you go by Hayley’s (and the age of the twins and the casting call which asked for them, which usually the actors age isn’t important but when you’re a kid and you change rapidly within the space of literal weeks I kinda feel it’s important? Because 5 month old and 8 month old babies look compleeeeeetly different) then fuck knows tbh

People have been saying since literally the day Hope was born that she was born in May though and I think that’s because the episode aired in May.

This could’ve aaaaaall been avoided though if they hadn’t done the crossover with Matt and Rebekah in 501 of TVD though. (Lets just discount season two for a minute here)

If you agree that Hope was conceived March 24th 2011 like it says in the wikia, and that Klaus finds out about Hayley in early May (as it says on the wikia) - we know that Rebekah gets to New Orleans the night or so after after she leaves MF (labour day 5th sept so anytime between the 5th and the 7th maybe) then Hayley’s already 5 ½ Months pregnant when Rebekah gets there

she’s not showing at all like not a tiny little bit (I think Rebekah even comments on that?)

and the whole wolfsbane thing wouldn’t just be an ‘upset stomach’ at that point because you know… developed baby.

Had they not had Rebekah go to MF on the 5th september, you could argue that it legit only took a month for Rebekah to go New Orleans after Klaus. And you could’ve argued that (as logic would dictated) that all the events of Season 1 took place between June and november (hope was early remember) - but either way it’s a mess that could’ve been resolved had they not made crossovers.

#Anonymous #ask #original groupies #sticking it in the OG tag in case someone wants to either refute my logic or add anything I've missed #we can all agree the timeline is fucked up #but im tired and I feel like I've made no sense and I've made a thousand mistakes with this #so feel free to correct me if needed

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laimeirtepat · 3 years

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2 0 2 0

(in 2020 the calendar and time was the most relative matter that I did not follow the days, realizing I am writing the every year letter days after I normally do it)

2 0 2 0 w h a t a y e a r (please say that in 2021 there is no pandemic and one is free to attend opera and coffee shops with his friends?)

what I love the most about this looking back is that for an hour or so (be honest, it takes a day) I can travel in time - pack myself into a suitcase and go back to who I was 365 days ago. isn't it true that we forget who we were and where we came from. silly, because I do believe we must remember those milestones in our way from time to time. perhaps instead of looking (living) in the future and sabotaging ourselves with pressure that we are not there yet (where we strongly and obsessively believe we should be?), we could shift our perspective to the journey we have already experienced. I don't mean looking back and living in past (absolutely not), I simply believe we must notice and be proud of the steps we've already took – look back, realize how high you have already climbed and now see the highest step as the ground zero – start today where you left yesterday. And never think you have reached the top – let me tell you - you never will, there is more than just one mountain in this reality when i think of first two months (because jokes on us, in middle of march everything turned upside down) of 2020, all I can remember is coldness in the city and people around me. n o t a l l o f t h e m, but no surprise why in the place and time I am now, nothing makes me want to go back to where I was a year ago. oh, oh, FEBRUARY!! you were a dreamy month. we did go for croissants and cafe to Paris! woke up early enough to avoid traffics, packed our hummus bread, took the warm scarfs and jumped into the car. what a lovely and lively memory this trip has drew it's footprint. The impression is still so lively in me – just by coincidence, without knowing the opening hours, we passed by the opera house. We were lucky enough to get in and catch the magical air and atmosphere this building holds – never have I ever felt in this way in a b u I l d I n g. there were tears in my eyes, realizing on what stage I stand, looking at the ceiling that’s covering those passionately lived dreams in the hall. For a second I richly felt what I t could mean one day. See, after 5 years of writing those letters every year, there is this one thing I keep coming back to – if we listen to our hearts and t r u s t the journey, it does eventually bring us where we were meant to be. It puts us around the people we can’t imagine our lives without, it challenges us with adventures (some might call them difficulties) which are helping us to grow as an individual. It does sound little silly now when I write, but – in February the environment where I was, did make me question a l o t if I want to continue what I have started. The trick was that it was n o t about me. It was about them. But while you are going through something and literally taking day by day (because it seems like the only option to get through a day, a week), it’s little difficult to zoom out the picture to look at it from above. The short getaway to Paris, with laughter, hummus bread and on top of everything – the dreamy hours in opera house seemed like a comforting, loving and embracing hug from the higher understanding, as it would promise that it will all be fine (oh, how fine it will be, back then you had no idea!!). may one never ever lose his inner voice, the one that a l w a y s knows, and actually is telling us the truth at all times. We simply forget to listen, we think we know better (otherwise what my brain and mind is there for?). that being said, I want to remind you, whenever you are reading this – you always come back to the gut feeling. A l w a y s. a a l l w w a a y y s s. okay, do let yourself to listen to your mind from time to time, but don’t ever forget that for the answers, you must look silently and deeply inside of you. And once you’ve heard what needed to be said, you can start thinking and finding the best possible way to experience it.

2020 was supposed to be t h e year, there were many adventurous things planned in my planner that now, looking back at it, of course it awakens tiny bitterness of realizing how things could have been way different. Yet. Probably (hopefully) this was the year which gave all of us the opportunity to simply sit back and look at our reality from a side. Zoom out the picture. Look at it from above. Rethink, recharge, re-re-restart if needed. Perhaps the only trip we had the chance to take was with destination “to yourself”. Mine has been with it’s ups and downs, but I remember it with cheerfulness.

I came to this town on a rainy Tuesday of March. Left my previous home with inner feeling that six months later most likely I will live here. I did not have the explanation, I simply knew. I am a traveler in heart, but this place for the very first time in my life truly feels like h o m e. I am surrounded by people I enjoy being with, I feel the pulsation of the town which often times resonates with my heart beat, I have the dogs and horses in the park.. okay, but the most important – I feel motivated, satisfied and joyful whenever I think of my reality today. There is no other place I wish I was today. It’s the second time when I did not go to my family for Christmas period. The difference from the first time was that – I was not feeling any kind of sadness of not being there with them. I know I will go there whenever the world is little bit more silent than it is at the moment, and we will celebrate Christmas maybe when there are the spring flowers outside the window. This place and journey I have lived through has taught me the patience. And the acceptance. Amor fati. Do you still know what I am talking about also a year later? Because if there is one thing I wish for you and anyone a year and seven years later is exactly this idea. At the moment it seems like I have been living through this prism for quite some time now and I wish to continue and embrace it even more fully, now with the realization what it actually means and that such thing exists. However I won’t talk about it for too long – just to see if a year later you still stick with this phrase.

I don’t feel how 2020 has been..bad. yes, many things took way different paths from the ones we desired to see, but it has led me to many wonderful experiences and life changing moments. I said many. when I think of this word, I find myself thinking of the opposite - it’s not the amount of events; it’s how meaningful they’ve been and still are. and in the scale of good and bad (if there is such strong division?), they fully comprehend what didn’t work out as I thought it would in a way that the joyful experiences simply take over anything else. (I won’t call names, but those two friendships that were born this year are still there in 2021 (and 2,3,4,5,6…), right? Nothing makes me worried to think that those two strong connections might have disappeared, just wondering) okay, about the experiences - indeed, it might be my attitude and mindset towards it. but if there’s one thing I’ve kept coming back throughout the year(s) is that our lives depend on our attitude towards the reality. I can not choose the emotion that I feel, but my attitude and action towards it is completely up to me. it takes lifetime to master and I’m sure one never fulfills the complete guidance of his emotions - one can only become more aware of himself. that’s the beauty of it. that never ending becoming. b e c o m I n g. I know every year I think of this word as it’s one of my truths that remains quite unchanged throughout the time. what else we are here for, if not to become what we want, dream, remember and were meant to be? isn’t that a dreamful idea? That you can simply be a n y t h I n g you want. And the only person who is bringing you there (or stopping you) is you. It really is. Yes, you do need people around you and you need to experience life, which is not fully possible in four walls of your living room, yet – even in those 4 walls, instead of scrolling down another useless information, you can read books. Listen to recordings of great minds and masterful voices. Watch movies which can widen up your horizon. You can paint, write, sing, read, dig into being and create that little life of yours. It is entirely up to you what you do with the time that’s given. It’s entirely up to you how you experience and look at what’s going on in your life. The choice is always yours. I believe that’s the greatest lesson I will take with me from previous 365 days – realizing how important it is to decide something f o r and b y myself. I must be satisfied and joyful with and in myself, only then I can be a functioning figure in other lives – a supportive daughter, friend, citizen, wife, society member. Only then I have something to bring to the table. Only then there is actually the point of living – knowing that I am doing the best to my abilities to be what I dreamt to be. It requires patience, time, mindfulness, it requires passion, sorrow, joy. It requires my permission to f e e l the pulsation of my heart, which stands as a reminder for me that I am alive (and that I better do something with this fact).

To f e e l, to l o v e, to l a u g h, to c r y, to be accepting, kind, modest, generous. To listen, to sing (oh God, to sing!), to talk, to live to b e a l I v e to embrace joy and give yourself the permission on taking an action. Whether it means jumping into unknown or walk away from anything that no longer serves you. To give others the space and time to be whoever they are – then you will see with whom you want to spend your days and give the time to. To take the time for yourself – by coffee and book, by astonishing performance, by reaching the top of the mountain or a day in pajamas. To live in contrasts, to be a collector of emotions, to let yourself to l I v e in acceptance.

2 0 2 1, huh?

#laimeirtepat #jaunsgads

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densi-mber · 6 years

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I Don’t Want to be Your Fiancée

A Densi-mber Drabble

by Psyched

“C’mon, Kensalina, tell me!”

“The whining is not attractive, babe.”

“But I need to know! Wait…is it Vegas? Are we doing Las Vegas for New Year’s Eve? You know I’ve always wanted to. They close the entire Strip to car traffic and it’s like one giant block party. I hear the fireworks at midnight are phenomenal. Oh! Are we seeing Celine Dion’s show while we’re there?”

Kensi looked at her watch. “Considering it’s ten o’clock and Vegas is a four-hour drive, no Deeks, we are not going there for the new year.”

“But it’s only a little over an hour by plane. Less by private jet since you can skip security.”

“Damn,” Kensi said, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I completely forgot about the jet we keep hangered in our backyard.” She gave her fiancé a look of frustration. “No Vegas,” she reiterated as she picked up the remnants of their late take-out dinner and tossed them in the trash.

“So how are we going to spend the last two hours of 2017?” Deeks wiggled his eyebrows as he approached and pulled her into his arms. “The way we couldn’t spend the last two hours of 2016 because you weren’t feeling up to it?”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Kensi kissed the corner of Deeks’ lips. “I’ll make you a deal. Whatever time is left over after we’ve done what I want to do, we can spend doing…whatever you want to do.”

Stepping away and rubbing his hands together in anticipation, Deeks said, “Okay then, let’s get to it. Oh wait, I forgot, I don’t know what it is!”

“Just make sure you have your phone and I’ll meet you on the couch.” She headed for the fridge. “Beer or wine?”

“We still having champagne at midnight?”

“I plan on having something more than the new year to celebrate by then, so yes.”

“Then wine, please.”

Kensi brought the wine, a bottle opener, and two glasses to the living room and handed the bottle and opener off to Deeks. She placed the glasses on the coffee table next to his phone, which she then picked up and started fiddling with.

“We going to play Angry Birds Friends? That’s so retro, Kens! And I can totally kick your ass in under an hour.”

She scoffed, “First, no you couldn’t. And second, no we’re not.”

“I think technically that should be ‘First, no we’re not and second, no I couldn’t.’ And I so could.”

Kensi rolled her eyes as she sat next to Deeks on the couch, tucking his phone under her leg. She held out the glasses while he poured the wine. Taking a glass from her, Deeks clinked Kensi’s and said, “To my beautiful fiancée. I can’t wait to spend the next year with you. 2018 will be awesome.” He leaned in and kissed her sweetly.

Kensi didn’t pull far away. “And on that note…I don’t want to be your fiancée any more. I want to be your wife. We’re setting a wedding date, for some time in 2018.”

Deeks felt Kensi press his phone into his chest. Taking it, he saw it was opened to their calendar app and his face fell. “That’s what we’re doing for the next two hours?”

“We were supposed to do it earlier this month, right after I got assurances from Whiting that she’ll let you leave LAPD without coming after you for murder. But then you distracted me.” She gave him a sly smile, “Not that I’m complaining.”

Deeks smirked proudly. “That was particularly fun, wasn’t it? Nothing like having my ladybird take things into her own hands to get my engine revving. Plus what you did with Whiting was good too,” he winked.

Kensi’s smile broadened to the one that was home to Deeks. “Then let’s set a date!” She withdrew a manila file folder from behind a couch pillow and flipped it open.

“Whoa, what’s that?”

“Important research.”

“Can’t be too important if it’s not in a binder and cross-referenced like the ones Crazy Bertie makes for you.”

“Correction: she makes those for us. And since your mother goes through all that trouble, the least you will do is look through them with me when the time comes. But that time is not now. And I think you’ll appreciate what I’ve done here to make choosing a date a little easier,” she waved the folder in front of him.

“Keep talking, I’m intrigued.”

“Okay, black out the following dates that we cannot get married.” Kensi waited until Deeks re-opened the calendar, “March twenty-second through April fifteenth, July twenty-fifth through August eighteenth, and November sixteenth through December sixth. Though if we’re not married by then, I’m not going to be very happy.”

Deeks’ fingers moved quickly across his phone screen. “…through December sixth.” He looked up at Kensi, disappointment clear in his eyes. “Why is April sixth out of the running?” He checked the app again, “It’s a Friday! I say we pick that.”

Kensi was touched by his suggestion that they get married on the anniversary of the day Jason and Tracy met. “We could,” she said slowly, “but I thought you might want to avoid those days.”

Deeks’ brows knitted together in confusion until his face lit up the moment he figured it out. “That’s when Mercury will be in retrograde next year!” Kensi nodded and showed him the collection of papers. “Are those our 2018 horoscopes?” Deeks noted she’d highlighted several sections in at least three different colors. “You don’t believe in astrology,” he said in a slightly awed voice.

“But you do. And I know you’d never want to get married while Mercury is in retrograde, so I looked some things up. And frankly, anything that will help narrow down the choice for a date is fine by me. That said, I do love the thought of getting married on April sixth.”

Deeks grimaced. “So did I. Hey, what about the following year? What’s Mercury doing the first week of April then?”

“No. Absolutely not. We are not waiting sixteen months to have a small wedding on the beach, Deeks. Let’s see if we can find another viable date before we have to choose between getting married in 2019 or while Mercury’s in retrograde.”

“2019 is sooner than leap day, at least,” he tried one last argument.

“Seriously, Deeks, do you even read these things? According to this, we’re practically doomed. A Leo woman and a Capricorn man shouldn’t even be in a relationship, much less get married. But it also says you’re reserved and like solitude while I’m social, gregarious, and like attention. I’m supposed to be full of life and you’re described as a pessimist. Would it really be so terrible to get married when a planet looks like it’s moving backwards?”

He shook his head, “Kensalina, I really love you for doing this for me. You’re right, we’ll find another day in 2018.” He slid a hand around her neck and pulled her in for a tender kiss that quickly grew passionate. Deeks wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the year making love to Kensi, but he’d promised they’d pick a wedding date first. Time to get his head back in the game.

When they broke for air, he continued in his best professor tone, “Everyone knows horoscopes aren’t written in stone or meant to be taken literally when they seem to be ‘wrong.’ They’re merely supposed to help guide us. Of course we’re not doomed. We just have to work harder at our relationship sometimes. Remember early on, when we didn’t think we could even be good partners? We both made a conscious effort to change a little bit, and it made all the difference.” He took the pages from her and scanned them. “See, look right here, it also says you have temperamental tendencies and should refrain from that kind of approach and not be possessive in our marriage. Good advice, yeah?”

“Deeks, that’s good advice for anyone.”

“Ooh, problem solved, I think. Mine says, ‘Singles already in love relationship and eager to tie the knot need to plan for the auspicious day from around last week of February. The planet linked with love and intimate relationship, Venus remains in a state of combustion till twenty-first of February.’ Combustion, Kens, that sounds hot. Let’s get married then.”

“I saw that, too. But consider the timing with this from mine,” Kensi pointed to another highlighted section and read aloud, “’For love birds anxious to take their relationship to the next level, the period from around the last week of February seems supportive. Newlyweds or other couples inclined to have a child are in for a supportive planetary position on this count.’ And then nine months later, it says, ‘With a Venus retrograde adding flavor and intensity in October and November (in Scorpio to boot) you can expect early fall to see some dynamic, exciting and potentially life changing moments arriving.’ So I’m thinking we cross late February off the list of potential wedding dates, or we may end up pregnant before we planned.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t believe in this stuff,” Deeks muttered as he updated the calendar.

“Yeah, well. I’m not too big to admit that some of these things were pretty damned accurate. At least as far as describing the past. This is from mine again, ‘This entire period that has reached back as far as six years has slowly, and sometimes not so slowly, been reworking how you approach love, what you want from it, what you need from it on the very deepest levels. Fireworks without substance seldom last long as you move towards a more fulfilling, more complete attitude and awareness around intimacy.’”

“That’s right, no more fireworks without substance for my girl. I’m full of substance, and I know I make you see fireworks!”

“You’re such a doofus,” Kensi chuckled.

“Maybe, but I see you also printed out our career, horoscopes. Anything good there? Does it tell us what we’re going to do after LAPD and NCIS?”

Kensi rolled her eyes and perused the now familiar paragraphs, “Team work pays off well for you next year. But you could say that about every year since you started working with NCIS. And supposedly the end of the year will have possibilities for relocation or a change of course if you’re willing. Oh, and get this, ‘Your practicality and managerial skills would help you to climb yet another rung in the professional ladder.’”

“Hmm, practicality and managerial skills…maybe I need to be the next Hetty.”

“You’d be a damned sight better than Mosely, that’s for sure,” Kensi said earnestly.

“Thanks, sugar bear.” Deeks pressed a kiss to Kensi’s cheek. “What about yours?”

“Better suited to last year and I hope completely wrong for next year. My job is supposed to go through several ups and downs and I should plan my career future and work towards it but not mind the present-day hardships.”

“Solid advice, regardless. And so is this, ‘Reflective of a year-end bonus perhaps, or a new career offer, put anything that arrives to good use…and consider the future.’ Lines up with my potential end of year career change, yeah? That’s good to know.”

“Sure, except we we’ve been talking about that for a while now, Deeks. We’re not deciding to do it because our horoscopes say we should.”

“True, but maybe it will end up happening next year because the planets are in their proper alignment.”

“I don’t care why it happens, as long as it’s the right move for us, personally and professionally. And the first step in all of it is getting married. So let’s get back to picking the date. I don’t think anything else in our horoscopes is going to help with that, so let’s see what we’ve got.”

Deeks held up the calendar. They hadn’t eliminated that many options. Thinking aloud, Kensi said, “Okay, I really don’t want to wait until the end of the year to be married, so anything after the mid-November retrograde is no good. And before the first one is probably too soon, so let’s cross out everything before the March and April dates as well.”

“That leaves us with mid-April through most of July or end of August to mid-November,” Deeks summarized. “And I agree with you, the latter part of the year just seems too far away. Which leaves us with April, May, June, or July.”

“Weather’s hottest in June and July,” Kensi said.

“But the beach will be about fifteen degrees cooler,” Deeks pointed out

“And loaded with tourists,” she countered.

“I know all the best beaches that the tourists never find. Plus OSP closes for two weeks in early June, so we won’t have to take time off for a honeymoon. I can see it now, Kick-Ass Kensi Blye, a beautiful June bride.”

Kensi smiled, “So early June?”

“Yup. Friday, Saturday, or Sunday?” Deeks asked.

“Friday or Saturday, I think. The team might not have to go to work on Monday, but the Cupcake Girls will. Morning, afternoon, or evening?”

“Evening, definitely. Watch the sunset over the water while we say our vows? Doesn’t get any more magical than that.”

“Sounds perfect,” Kensi agreed, and their eyes locked for several seconds, the excitement at being so close to having a date almost palpable between them. “What does that leave us?”

Checking the calendar, Deeks said, “We’re officially off the clock starting Sunday June third and back on Monday June eighteenth. If we want to really take a long honeymoon we can shoot for the weekend before OSP closes, when we’d typically be off already.”

Kensi shook her head. “Unless something comes up, in which case the team wouldn’t be able to be there.”

“No bueno,” Deeks concurred. “So that leaves us with Friday June eighth or Saturday June ninth.”

“If we go with the eighth you’ll be more likely to remember our anniversary since it’s the same day of the month as your birthday,” Kensi said with a small smirk.

“Kens, no matter when we get married, I would never forget the date of the best day of my life.”

She was momentarily taken aback by the sincerity in Deeks’ tone. “God, I love you,” she whispered.

“But we probably should go with the eighth so you’ll be more likely to remember my birthday,” he teased.

“It was one year!” And just like that, the moment’s gone, Kensi thought.

“So are we done? Are Kensi and Deeks officially becoming Densi or Keeks on Friday, the eighth of June, 2018?”

“You want me to double-check some of the astrology sites to make sure they don’t say anything ominous about that date in particular?” she said.

Deeks got up and headed for the kitchen while Kensi worked her phone. “Great idea. Also, you should make sure it doesn’t fall on the same day as a major sporting event, or a holiday weekend, or the thirteenth…”

Kensi rolled her eyes but smiled at his last comment. Deeks had just returned when Kensi declared, “June eighth is clear on all fronts, babe. It’s comfortably ensconced between Memorial Day and Father’s Day; nearly two weeks between each and…our wedding.” She jumped and let out a small yelp when a loud pop sounded behind her. Turning with her hand on her chest, Kensi saw that Deeks had opened the bottle of champagne reserved for toasting the new year at midnight.

Glancing at her watch, Kensi said, “Deeks! There’s still more than an hour until midnight.”

“True, but we just set our wedding date, my sexy bride-to-be. And as you said before, that is something worth celebrating. Also, as per our earlier agreement, I get to choose how we spend any time remaining in 2017. And I can promise you we’ll be too busy to stop and pay attention to the turning over of the new year.”

#densi-mber 2017 #happy new year #also too long to be a drabble #sorry #not sorry

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