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rachaelswrites · 3 years

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Girl’s Trip

Matthew Gray Gubler x daughter!reader/ Platonic! Aubrey Plaza

Word Count: 1,400

Requested By: Anonymous

what about mgg daughter and aubrey plaza hanging out? idk why i thought of this. you don’t have to write it you don’t want to :)

Your dad was very close to Aubrey, so naturally you were too. Ever since you were little, you and her were like best friends. She always set aside time in her schedule to spend time with you. This year, she was planning on taking you on a road trip. Your dad begged to come along but you and Aubrey told him it was for girls only. The plan was to start in Los Angeles and then go to Vegas, making a stop at Yosemite as well. It wasn’t the most conventional or the longest trip, but you were still happy to go.

You’ve always wanted to go on a road trip but your dad was always way too busy to take you on one. You were excited that your first one would be with Aubrey, who you considered your number one best friend.

The morning that you were leaving, you were too excited to sleep so you woke up at five. You were double checking your packing list and made sure everything was in your bag. Apparently you were making too much noise and woke your dad up.

“Y/n? What are you doing? It’s too early for you to be making this much noise,” he stood at your doorway and rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just too excited,” you zipped your bag up and threw it on the bed, “I’ll be quieter.”

“No it’s fine. I’m already awake. Do you want coffee?”

“Please,” you followed your dad into the kitchen.

He grabbed two mugs from the cupboards as you sat down at the counter. Your laptop was still out and there were pieces of paper scattered around it. As Matthew handed you your coffee, he motioned to the mess in front of him, “Late night homework session?”

“Nope! I was just doing some extra planning for our trip,” you grabbed the papers and looked over the notes you made.

“Thought you two were being spontaneous about this?” he took a sip of his drink and sat down next to you, looking over the papers as well, “How can you even read your writing?”

You rolled your eyes and snatched the paper from his hands, “I know but, I like to have things somewhat planned. This is just a rough draft.”

“Mmm, I see,” he kissed the side of your head, “I’m going to miss you,” he stood up and ruffled your hair, “What am I going to do without you?”

“You’ll be fine without me. It's just for a few days,” you stood up, making your way to your room, “Maybe Rumple can keep you company,” you ran upstairs before he could answer back.

A few hours later, the doorbell rang and you raced downstairs, almost knocking your dad over. You opened the door and greeted Aubrey with a hug.

“Wow, you must be really excited,” she teased, returning the hug.

“You have no idea,” Matthew called from inside the house.

“Well, I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with you for the next few days,” you jabbed at him. You dragged Aubrey inside.

Her and Matthew caught up while you went upstairs to grab your things. You walked downstairs and set your bag at your feet, “I’m ready.”

Your dad walked over to you and hugged you, “Be good,” he said pulling away from you. He turned to Aubrey, “No matter how many times she begs, don’t let her drive.”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, stepping away from him, “Dad we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. We’re gonna be safe and have fun,” she said as she pulled you into a side hug.

“Fine. Just don’t break my daughter,” he tossed your bag back at you and watched as you two left.

It was only four and a half hours to your first stop in Yosemite. For that time, you and her talked about anything and everything. The topic landed on boys, “Anyone catching your eye recently?” she asked. You didn’t answer, you just blushed, giving her the answer she needed, “So there is someone? Who is it?”

“Mmm you can’t tell my dad but me and Finn have gone on a few dates,” your face was fifty shades of red now.

She gasped, “Wolfhard? Lucky duck.”

You punched her in the arm lightly, “Just don’t tell my dad. He will freak.”

“Don’t worry I won’t. It’ll be our secret.”

Your first stop at the park was a hike to one of the falls. Once at the top you took pictures and sent them to your dad, making him jealous. He really wished he was allowed to go. You hiked back down and it was getting late. You two decided to camp out for the night.

You picked out a camp spot and helped Aubrey set up the tent. By the time you finished setting it up, it was dark.

She started a fire and you pulled out some logs for you two to sit on.

“Do you wanna tell ghost stories?” she asked you.

“Sure,” you knew she told great stories, just like your dad. You were just worried that you might not be able to sleep after hearing hers.

“Ok, ok. So you know Bigfoot right?”

You nodded, “Yeah but isn’t he more in like the Pacific Northwest? Like in the mountains?”

“Yes but there’s variations like the Yeti, that’s not the point.”

“Continue then.”

She leaned in closer to you, “Well, there’s rumors that there’s a similar creature here in the park.”

“Really? Are we in danger?”

“Mmm, no. He only goes after men,” she stood up and patted your shoulder, “We really have to watch out for the other one. She’s smaller but stronger.”

“Wait? You said we were safe!” you jumped up from your spot on the log.

“As long as you’re over twenty-one she won’t go after you.”

“But I’m sixteen! Aubrey! You can’t leave me hanging like this!”

She just shrugged, “I’m sure you’ll be ok. Yell if you need anything,” she went into the tent and started getting ready for bed.

Sometimes, suspense like this was worse than hearing an actual story. There wasn’t enough service for you to google to see if this was real or not. You stayed outside by the fire for a bit until it started to die down and it got cold. You got into the tent and saw Aubrey was already asleep. You changed into pajamas and got into your sleeping bag, “I’ll kill you if you scare me in the middle of the night,” you whispered.

Morning came and you didn’t get eaten by a monster lurking in the woods.

“See? You were fine,” Aubrey said as she was finishing shoving the tent back into the car.

“Because I was up all night,” you flopped into the passenger seat. Aubrey closed the trunk and got into the driver’s seat.

“If it makes you feel better, we can get coffee?”

Aubrey drove you to a small café. Before your food even came, you had downed two cups of coffee.

“You really are your father’s daughter. You drink so much coffee. Both of you,” she said in between her own sips of coffee.

“I mean, where do you think I got it from? I’m pretty sure I was born holding a coffee cup.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” she responded. The waitress brought your food, “So, tell me more about Finn. What’s up with you two?”

“Mmm, nothing,” you shoved a forkful of French toast into your mouth.

“Come on Y/n,” she leaned closer to you, “I won’t tell your dad.”

“Only if you let me drive. I won’t crash,” you held your hand out for the keys, waiting for her to hand them over.

She thought about it for a minute before answering, “Deal,” she tossed them to you, “Now spill.”

“Ok, ok,” you started, “It’s nothing serious. We’ve just hung out a few times.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yup,” you stood up, keys in hand, “We better get going,” you quickly ran out of the café.

“Y/n!” she called out but you were already out the door and in the car. She paid the bill and followed you out the door, “We are not done talking about this,” she muttered to herself.

A few hours later, you finally arrived in Vegas. You managed to get both of you there safely (and quite quickly.)

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #mgg #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction #aubrey plaza #mgg x y/n

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star-six7 · 3 years

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I Never Thought They’d Get Me Here

Ray Toro x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 3 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 1481

A/N: Yeah, I suck. I’m really sorry for the wait with this one, but I hope it was worth it :)

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

“Okay,” Brian said, turning around and stopping before entering the building. “I’m thinking we should split into pairs, just in case?”

“The buddy system, really?” Frank snorted. “This isn’t kindergarten, Brian.”

“I, for one, am in favor of this plan,” Gerard said, sounding nervous. Mikey moved to stand next to him without either of them saying anything.

“I’ll go with Ray. I feel like being paired up with the tallest one here is a good idea,” you stated boldly, smiling up at him. You had made up your mind on the way over. Today was the day you told Ray how you felt about him.

“Well,” Brian said glumly. “I guess someone needs to babysit Frank. Let’s go.”

Frank grinned, seemingly unoffended.

After the guides explained the rules and offered you the last chance to turn back, they brought you to the door that would lead you to what they claimed was “your worst nightmare.” You swallowed and moved next to Ray.

“Nervous?” he smiled at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You weren’t about to tell him it had less to do with the haunted house and more to do with the fact that you planned to tell him about your long-standing crush. Not yet, at least.

The last thing you saw before you were ushered into pitch blackness was an unreadable look on Ray’s face.

---

A few minutes later, you were shuffling down the path behind Gerard and Mikey with Ray by your side.

“This goddamn hallway,” Frank muttered up in the front, with Brian. “I have no idea if we’re even heading in the right direction.”

“It does feel like we’re going in circles,” Ray agreed. “Maybe we should split up and try and find the way to the next area.”

You heard Mikey and Gerard move off to your left while Frank and Brian pushed on to your right.

“Guess it’s just us now,” Ray said, somehow finding your hand in the dark. You were glad he couldn’t see you blushing.

“Yeah,” you whispered as your nerves skyrocketed. You cleared your throat. “Let’s try and beat them to the exit!”

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later, you were no closer than any of the others. Speaking of which-

“Ray, do you know where the others are? I haven’t heard them in a while.”

“Me either,” he sighed. “Oh, shit!”

“What’d you find?” You were ready to get out of the dark hallway.

“I think I found a crack in the wall,” he said, sounding like he was concentrating. “Hold on-”

The section of the wall he was pushing on gave way, and you stepped out into what seemed to be an indoor maze. You took in the fake ivy-covered walls while Ray closed the door behind him.

“Wouldn’t want the others to figure out our secret,” he said sheepishly when he noticed your questioning look. “Shall we?”

And for the second time that day, you were holding hands with Ray Toro.

---

As you wandered up and down the paths with Ray, you let yourself get lost in thought. You remembered the tall, shy (and cute!), guy that Gerard had practically dragged down the basement steps for the first time, barely a week after the band went from being an idea Gerard would call you about at two in the morning to something real. You shook your head at yourself when you thought about how nervous you had been about adding a new member. You had been worried that Ray wouldn’t fit in with the long-standing, easy-going friendship you had with Mikey and Gerard. But, Gerard was right. The band needed someone who could play live. And Ray was certainly one hell of a guitarist.

In hindsight, it should have been no surprise that you and Ray became fast friends. Not only were you both dedicated, passionate, and talented musicians, but you genuinely clicked on many other levels as well. You couldn’t even count the hours spent in the Way brothers’ basement, arguing the odds of surviving your favorite horror movie scenes or building your absolute dream bands consisting of your favorite musicians. It only made more sense that you began to fall for him around the time My Chem went into the studio for the first time. You remembered staying into the early hours of the morning, hanging out on Geoff’s couch together as you pored over the previous day’s takes, eventually falling asleep on each other until Gerard woke you up to complain about his tooth.

“I hope you’re not laughing at me, or you might not be able to find your duffle bag tonight.”

You hadn’t even realized the small smile forming on your face until Ray interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up at him and saw a grin on his face that told you he was only joking.

“Wait, why would I be laughing at you?”

“Because,” he said, sounding glum. “I think we’ve been going in circles for the past twenty minutes.”

“We’ll figure it- wait, did you say twenty minutes? There’s no way this place is that big. How long have we been in here?”

Ray glanced at his watch. “25 minutes, actually.”

You swore as you sat down. “You don’t think the others got out already, do you? I mean, they would come back for us, right?”

Ray laughed as he sat down next to you, leaning against the wall of the maze. “Frankie might try it, just for shits and giggles, but Brian wouldn’t let him.”

“Thank god for Schechter,” you agreed. The conversation lapsed into silence, and you decided now was as good a time as any to test the waters. “Hey, at least we’re stuck together, right?”

Ray shifted to face you, smiling. “That’s true, Gerard would be hyperventilating by now.”

“And Brian would smack us upside the heads for getting lost in the first place.” You laughed and then took a second to regain your composure. “But, if I’m being honest… there’s really another reason why I’m glad I’m with you. Even if we might die in this maze.”

You paused, studying Ray’s face for a reaction. You thought you saw a flicker of emotion, but you couldn’t be sure. Apparently, Ray’s poker face could rival Mikey’s.

When you could tell that he wasn’t going to say anything, you continued. “I think it’s kinda obvious but… you’re my best friend. And as much as I don’t want to change everything for the worse, I feel like I can’t really hide it anymore. Ray… I think I’m in love with you.”

What you were going to say next died in your throat when Ray surged forward to kiss you. Your perception of the world around you slowly melted away as all of your senses began to hyperfocus on Ray. You couldn’t help the faint sigh that escaped you as he shifted closer, wrapping one arm around your waist and resting his other hand on the side of your face. Almost involuntarily, you scooted backwards until your back was resting against the corner you had sat down in, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

It was at about that point that you heard a familiar (and at the moment, grating) voice yelling at you from several feet away.

“Holy shit! Brian, you can call off the search party! I found them, and they’re making out, ew!”

Ray pulled away from you the second Frank had made his presence known. Though he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, you could see a blush creeping up his cheeks. If the heat in your face was any indication, you were sure you looked similar.

“Shut up, Frank,” Brian said as he rounded the corner, rolling his eyes. He turned to you and Ray and sighed, smiling. “I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, Brian, are you gonna give them the ‘safe sex’ lecture? Scratch that, are you sure they know about the birds and the bees?” Frank said, and then laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Hey,” Ray said, scowling as he stood up. He offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet. “You better quiet down or I’ll make sure you never get shotgun again.”

“Okay, cut it out, assholes,” Brian cut in, though there was no real anger behind it. “We need to go find the others before Gerard goes into a catatonic state of shock.”

You half-listened to Ray and Frank bicker some more as you trailed behind them, unable to keep the smile off your face. It almost felt easier to breathe with your confession off your chest.

You had almost forgotten that you were still holding hands with Ray until he stopped suddenly, waiting to get a little distance from Frank and Brian.

“Hey,” he said, smiling down at you.

“Hey?”

“I forgot to tell you. I think I love you too.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to tell me what you liked and send in requests!

#ray toro imagine #ray toro x reader #mcr imagine #mcr x reader #ray toro #my chemical romance #mcr #my chem #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance imagine #bandom #bandom imagine #gerard way #frank iero #mikey way #x reader #reader insert

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

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Be Mine, this Quarantine

"Dude." Dean nervously chuckles, scrubbing his face with his hand. The other one holds the phone to his ear. "I haven't even been able to ask this guy out to dinner. And you're asking me to ask him to go into isolation with me?"

"You're being dramatic again." Sam tells him, matter-of-factly, as if Dean's the one being unreasonable here.

Sam is the one who specifically called him on a Sunday from California to remind him to self-isolate, but "do it with someone like Castiel, okay?" - like he's supposed to be taking care of his older brother from fucking Stanford, like Dean knows anyone else like Cas, and like he's ever going to be able to propose something of that sort to Cas.

"He has a third-floor apartment." Sam points out, revisiting all of his super valid points. "You share a dorm with three other guys. And he just seems like the kind who'd be the correct amount of a germophobe." Dean rolls his eyes - although he also agrees. "Dean, you share so many classes with him that if nothing else, you could revise your entire semester together - and to top it all off, you're like best friends."

Benny comes to Dean's head and he starts to protest.

"You text him, Dean." The eyeroll and bitchface are audible in Sam's voice. "You, who exits all text chains you've ever been added to because quote unquote you're not an adolescent teenager with a celebrity crush, or looking to be catfished - you, Dean Winchester, text Cas."

That - wasn't far from the truth.

He wouldn't call them texting buddies or anything, but Castiel always sends a good morning text, and Dean always sends him a picture of his breakfast (because that's what he's up to by the time Castiel wakes up) and sometimes Dean's late for class because he lost track of time while talking to Cas, and sometimes they stay up all night together discussing the most inconsequential things like why mattresses matter to Dean and bees matter to Cas, and - yeah. He should probably call them texting buddies.

"Whatever, bitch." Dean throws back, taking the small losses his way as long as he wins the final battle. "Fine, we're friends. That doesn't automatically mean we'll be able to live together."

"You cannot actually mean that." Sam scoffs. "You're the best kind of neat freak I know, because you just end up doing all the tidying up by yourself. And you can cook." Dean huffs. "Admit it, jerk. Compatibility in a shared living space shouldn't be your concern."

Sure, Sam makes some good points, but Dean has the biggest card up his sleeve - which will trump all of Sam's meticulously presented arguments.

He's sorta in love with Cas.

But to say out loud to his little brother, it comes out as, "What if Cas doesn't want me there?"

Sam pauses.

Point, Dean Winchester.

"That's exactly why you need to talk to him." He finally says, but he sounds more thoughtful like it finally entered his twenty two year old brain that Cas might not want to shack up with Dean.

"Like hell, I will."

"I swear on your bullshit, Dean," Sam threatens. "I won't hesitate to take a cheap-ass flight, straight to Cas's apartment."

Dean balks. "You're not getting on any planes right now, Sammy -"

"And you're asking him." Sam declares, and if he were in front of Dean, he'd be crossing his arms on his chest which usually implies the end of a debate in Sam-the-to-be-lawyer speak. "Promise me."

"What will I even say?" Dean retorts, indignant. "Like, do I just go up to the guy like 'hey, wanna have me impose on you for a bunch of weeks?'" Sam snickers like Dean's trying to be funny. "'I promise to clean and make you food if you let me live with you during a pandemic'?"

"Something like that." Sam laughs, and Dean has to smile - because that doesn't happen very often and when it does, it reminds him of a past where they were much closer than California and Kansas. "Tell me how it goes, okay?"

"Nothing's going -"

"You promised."

"I didn't fucking promise a thing -"

The line clicks, and Sam is gone. Dean lands back on his bed, and wonders briefly if it'd be easier to die.

He calls Cas - because they're not goddamn texting buddies, no matter what Sam says - and asks if he's free for lunch.

Cas says yes and actually sounds excited about it.

When Dean reaches their usual diner, he takes longer than usual to park the Impala - all the while thinking about how he's going to frame the question to Cas, because he's fought it out with himself and knows that he's going to do it. He'd also taken longer than usual to drive there from the University apparently, because when he reaches, Cas is already there.

He's sitting on a table for two - probably just because that allows him to have a seat against the wall and Cas is kind of adorable about small things like that - and he's slumping over his phone.

But he puts it down when Dean approaches, and as Dean takes off his jacket, Cas puts his phone back in his jeans and uses his fingers to fidget instead. When Dean sits, a little amused, Cas is the one who speaks up first and in a hurry.

"Would you like to quarantine with me?"

Dean blinks. He takes a moment to think and then asks, "Did Sam get to you?"

"Uh, your brother Sam?" Cas frowns, shaking his head. "No, why would he?"

"Nevermind." Dean believes him. Though he cannot believe what just happened.

"So?"

"Oh." He's supposed to give an answer, because Cas doesn't know how much Dean's been thinking about it. Though, in his defense, most of the time, Cas tends to be so goddamn intuitive that Dean feels like he can read his mind.

Nonetheless, Dean tries to answer as casually as he can. "Yes. I mean, of course. Thank you for asking."

That's Dean Winchester in a sentence.

He tries to shoot for the normal, and ends up in affirmative-response-to-a-promposal territory.

"Are you sure?" Cas asks, sounding slightly less sure than before.

Did you not hear me say 'of course, thank you for asking' after that yes?

"Yeah, buddy." He pulls the menu from Cas's side of the table to his, sliding it on the table. "So what are we eating?"

"I'm not forcing you into this, am I?" Cas interrupts, hand on Dean's wrist jolting his attention back and ruining his complete 'casual' cover, because now Dean's sweating too. "Just because I asked, and just because we're friends - you don't have to say yes to anything, okay?"

"I know that." Dean gives Cas his best reassuring smile, though it's a little non-assured from his own core.

"I wake up late and I'm not sure when I sleep." Cas confesses, eyes worried. "The flat is clean only because I stuff everything in the closets. And I have a neighbor - you remember Balthazar, right? He just returned from France."

"How long ago is 'just'?" Dean repeats, and then adds. "And frankly I'd assumed he was simply being pretentious when we met."

"Two months." Castiel bites his lip. "And he is. The accent is fake."

"We'll survive." Dean announces, grinning broader. "Plus I can't wait to hear that guy minus the accent now."

Castiel makes an exasperated sound.

"Cas, how do I put this?" Dean sighs, knowing that things would eventually come to this. "I would be grateful if you'd let me stay with you, and -"

"Sometimes I wander around the house with my cat past midnight." Cas volunteers, out of the blue.

Naked?

Dean's brain jumps there and then he drags it back from the gutter - or, you know, the land of tempting imaginable scenarios.

"I want to live with you, you dumbass."

Cas pauses like that's at all surprising. "You do?"

"I was literally trying to figure out how to ask." Dean rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up. "And then you did, okay? And then I said yes, and I wanted us to not talk about it all lunch because later we're going to have important shit to figure out like food and beer and toilet paper and -"

"When exactly you'll move in." Cas offers, and when he puts it like that, a little bit of Dean melts.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay." Cas smiles, and finally it's that smile - eyes all crinkled, nose all scrunched up, the very definition of gummy - and fuck, Dean's very much in love with him and has just dug himself a huge, apartment-shaped hole, but he'd fucking like to live with him too, and he's a fucking liar if he isn't being a little hopeful about it too.

"We'll not talk about it." Cas declares. "And before, you'd asked me what we were eating?"

Dean nods.

"Well, I asked the waitress for recommendations for something memorable and she offered me the specials menu." Cas says, innocent as though everyone in the city doesn't know not to ask for the specials' menu at Reed's diner.

Dean starts to pray.

"So, kale pecan pesto." Cas announces. "And yes, I had to Google what that is later and no, I'm not showing you."

"God-fucking-dammit, Cas." Dean glares at him. "These might be our last diner meals for the foreseeable future, I don't want to have rabbit food -"

And then Cas winks at him like that's something he's allowed to do, and Dean's suddenly flustered again - and if that isn't an apt summary of how living with Cas is going to be like, he doesn't know what is.

#destiel #quarantine #destiel fluff #self isolation #destiel crack #soft bois #destiel ficlet #destiel college au #young destiel #young dean winchester #young castiel #castiel #castiel/dean winchester #castiel/dean #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #not spoilers #representation week #coronavirus

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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Five Times Blaine Gets Sick and One Time Kurt Figures Out Why: Chapter 1/6 (Rated T)

This is a commission gone bad, so I’ve decided to start posting it and return the commissioner’s money (which I’ve been trying to do for a bit now but since they’re apparently not in the same country as me, Paypal won’t let me do a straight refund. I have to pay $10 out of my own pocket to return the money, which I’m trying to arrange). This whole thing has been a poop show, let me tell you. A lot of things went wrong. But two things that rubbed me the wrong way about this is a) yes, I was taking a while to get this done. Aside from life, I had seven other commissions, all which this person was told. I even offered to return their money twice before. I was told that as long as it didn’t take till the New Year they were willing to wait. That was apparently a lie. And b) they were stalking my actions on social media. You’ve heard me talk about this before - how someone will say “Hey, I noticed you updated this story. Why don’t you update this one?” That’s what I was getting. They had subscribed to me and was put out that I was doing other work that I enjoy when I had their commission to do. That automatically makes me not want to work on your project. Well, here it is. I’m putting it up in six short chapters, but the work is mine. I don’t want their name attached to it. Read it. Don’t read it. I really don’t care. I just want it off my shoulders and off my plate so I can focus on more important stuff.

***

“I’m dying!” Blaine moans, arms wrapped around his stomach and rolling left and right on the sofa while Kurt tries to snatch the thermometer out of his husband’s mouth.

“You’re not dying. You’re just sick. Now hold still, you big baby, while I check your temperature. Otherwise I’m going to have to do this rectally, and I’m sorry, but I’m not sure our relationship can survive that.”

That comment stops Blaine’s tantrum in its tracks – not because he’s finally being an obedient patient, but because of the absurdity of that remark. Kurt has shoved a great many toys up Blaine’s rear, but a thermometer is where he draws the line? He would love to explore the rationale behind that in greater depth but he’s too busy dealing with his life being violently torn from his corporeal form.

“I am dying. I feel it.”

“What do you feel exactly?” Kurt pounces, grabs the thermometer from between Blaine’s lips and holds it up to the light.

“I’m burning up. It feels like my blood is boiling. My whole body’s on fire!”

“Yeah, well, you have fever,” Kurt informs him, squinting at the red line to make sure. “But it’s not all that high. What else?”

Blaine frowns at the assertion that the fever currently surging through him like lava isn’t all that high. “Well … I’m achy. Like, all over. And my head hurts. I’m thirsty …” He continues pulling out anything he can think of when it looks like Kurt is no longer taking his peril seriously. “I could probably drink the whole ocean!”

“That wouldn’t be a good idea. The saline content would definitely kill you. But congratulations! You have the flu!”

“The flu!? I can’t have the flu! I got a flu shot!”

“Yesterday. You were probably exposed to the flu a week ago and you’re just showing symptoms now. I’ll call Gunther on my way to work and tell him you won’t be at the diner today. And you should email your professors. See if you’ll be missing anything important today at school.”

“You’re … you’re leaving me?” Blaine sits up quickly only to regret it a second later.

“Yes, Blaine. It’s just the flu. It doesn’t even seem like a bad flu. You can take care of yourself.”

“I can’t take care of myself, Kurt! I’m suffering from a fatal disease here!”

Kurt’s eyes roll hard enough to make him dizzy. “You’re not going to die from the flu.”

“People have died from the flu!” Blaine insists. “Google it! It’s possible!”

“Yes, it’s possible, but it’s rare. You’re healthy as a horse. I don’t think it’s going to happen to you.”

“You don’t know that! I could turn a corner in seconds! Th-there was a woman in Minnesota had the flu - seemed fine. Laid down on her sofa for a nap and never woke up!”

“Wasn’t she in her eighties?” Kurt shoves his keys into his pocket and his wallet into his messenger bag. “And didn’t she have, like, diabetes and a heart condition?”

“Don’t know,” Blaine mutters grumpily. “But why take the chance? Wouldn’t it be a good idea for you to stay with me? To be on the safe side?”

“Blaine! I’m only going to be gone for three hours. Four tops! I don’t think you’re going to die in the next four hours!”

“But it feels like I am!”

“You have your cell phone. If you start seeing a bright light and distant relatives coming to greet you, call me, and I’ll have Mrs. Pancetti from next door come check on you. Shoo them away.”

“Kurt!” Blaine stares at Kurt with pleading, blood-shot eyes, and Kurt stares back - stoic, determined not to be swayed. A stand-off ensues, one Kurt doesn’t have time for. In his head, he tells himself to end this ridiculousness, grab his stuff, and go. His husband is a big boy. He’ll be fine. But the more Blaine stares, the more Kurt begins to feel sorry for him. Blaine doesn’t usually get sick. Aside from catching a mega-cold his senior year of high school (which resulted in the infamous Tina Cohen-Chang Vapo-rape incident) Kurt can’t remember the last time Blaine was truly sick.

And he doesn’t seem all that sick now! But Kurt has had the flu before (of course). It can be deceptively mild in the beginning. If Blaine’s is anything like the flus Kurt gets, he’s going to be miserable. And even though he doesn’t consider himself the nurturing type, there’s something deep inside trying its hardest to convince Kurt to stay home and take care of his husband.

And it’s winning.

Kurt checks the clock on his phone and sighs. He’s cutting things close as is. If he’s going to leave, he’d better do it now or else he might as well not even try. At this rate, he’ll miss his connection, hit hellacious traffic, and spend close to an hour stuck on a crowded subway platform. He scrolls through his itinerary in his head – his one class and the few projects he’s contributing to at Vogue.

Can he really afford to miss a day?

Actually, he can. For the first time in a long time, he can.

“Alright,” he groans, but with the twitch of a smile on his lips. “Give me a minute, let me iron out a few things, and I’ll be back to hang out with you.”

“Yay!” Blaine giggles, fluffing his pillow and snuggling beneath his thick comforter.

“I’m going to go to the bedroom and get changed. Try not to die too loudly.”

“This is going to be great, Kurt!” Blaine calls after him. “You’ll see. I … I know I’m sick, but we can watch trash TV and play video games and …”

“Hold that thought.” Kurt ducks behind the privacy curtain. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Kurt drops his bag and unzips his boots. He shoots Isabelle a text, wincing while he gives her what he feels is a thin excuse, but that’s because he has his father’s work ethic. No missing work unless he’s caught in a fire or bleeding profusely out his head. He doesn’t like bowing out on his responsibilities without giving people twenty-four hours’ notice. But Blaine getting sick? Incapacitated? (That’s what he tells Isabelle has happened to assuage his own guilt.) That cropped up this morning. And it’s an emergency, right? Emergencies don’t tend to give 24 hours’ notice. So if he didn’t have it, how could he give it?

Besides, it’s been a long time since he’s had a dedicated day off with his husband. Their schedules for the past six months have turned them into proverbial ships passing one another in the night. They share the occasional meal, get one date night every two weeks, but they’ve been overwhelmed by mid-year exams and double-shifts at the diner. Maybe Blaine’s flu is a blessing in disguise. Sure Kurt will be playing nursemaid, but Blaine is awfully cute when he’s needy. He’ll cling to Kurt like a baby sloth. They’ll watch TV and cuddle, Blaine’s hot skin pressed against his as he feeds his husband apple sauce and they catch up on life.

He’ll be missing an exciting day at Vogue, but this will be worth it.

“Okay, Blaine!” Kurt strips off the stylish outfit he’d chosen for the day and puts on his pajamas, rushing as he becomes more and more excited. He yanks on his socks, slides his feet into his carpet slippers, and sashays back to the living room. “Let’s play hooky!”

But by the time he returns, Blaine is fast asleep.

#klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #frankie write

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chloemill · 5 years

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On what I’ve been up to the last nine years

I have always been obsessed with food. It seems silly, honestly, to be obsessed with something that’s a basic human necessity. Food, water, shelter. Too bad there aren’t water disorders or I’d be all over that. Alcoholism, I guess, is a liquid-based disorder? This is getting dark quickly but I guess we should all know what we’re getting into with this one, shouldn’t we.

So, yeah, I’ve always been obsessed with food. I have alarmingly clear memories of food from childhood, and the sad(dest) part is most of it’s not even real fucking food, it’s like, cartoon food. I could probably describe every illustration from the Berenstain Bears installment where the dad bear and the kid bears randomly decide to go balls to the fucking wall and just mainline junk food until the mom bear is like “what the fuck is going on here” and gives them all apples or some shit and then everyone chills the fuck out. The pizza in A Goofy Movie when Goofy and Max randomly stop at a themed motel and the kids eat pizza while Goofy and Pete share what I remember to be a vaguely sexual moment in the hot tub? (There was definitely at LEAST a questionable power dynamic at play.) The kid at school whose weird helicopter mom came at lunch and hand-delivered her McDonald’s nuggets to the playground. Bake sales in the second grade - the cookies and brownies and “nachos” that were just round Tostitos with that terrifying and delicious fake cheese sauce that still honestly casts a spell twenty years later. It wasn’t quite normal, but as a kid, I didn’t think twice. When your parents are feeding you and your brain is the size of a baseball, you just kind of roll with the punches and settle for buying as much crap as possible at the bake sale with the two bucks your mom gave you. Shortly after I finished elementary school, actually, I think they stopped having bake sales as fundraisers because the school was trying to promote healthy eating. Go figure.

In high school we were allowed to go off campus for lunch and once or twice a week my sainted mother would give me money to buy lunch. It very rapidly became the bi-weekly Let’s See How Much Shit We Can Stuff In Our Body For Ten Dollars Challenge, but that’s not at all uncommon for high schoolers. At home we ate healthily, and I have a pretty fast metabolism thanks to my Slenderman of a father so I was more or less the size of a pencil for first few years of school. We’re talking, like, size double zero at Hollister. I actually used to peel the 00 size stickers off my low rise (!!!) jeans whenever I’d get a new pair and stick them on the side of my desk in my bedroom, which, as I became a normal-sized adult with not-normal-sized body image problems, morphed into a very creative form of self-inflicted psychological torment. I have some journal entries from the first few years of high school with “diet and workout plans”, but in teenage girl fashion, most of them were quickly forgotten about or amended with “forgot and ate mac and cheese today - whoops!” Stupid teenage shit. It’s actually kind of hilarious reading it back now until I remember how spectacularly fucked up everything got. ANYWAY!

My first real memory of hating my body was on a school trip to Scotland my junior year. I was fully indoctrinated into the cult of high school musical theatre and we were performing at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh, which was an incredibly cool experience that I absolutely did NOT take full advantage of and instead did shit like drink way too much rum (fucking RUM because apparently I was a character in Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean franchise), try to climb out the window of the dorms we were staying in to go see my boyfriend in his building, quickly remember I was on like the fucking fourth floor, throw up all over the carpet of my room and then pass out. My room smelled like puke the rest of the trip but that, though tragic in its own right, is not the point of this anecdote. Being both across the pond and left to my own devices, I was eating nothing but beige-colored fried food to the point that I’m certain ketchup and fruit juice used solely as a mixer for alcohol were the only things saving me from full-blown scurvy. My clothes felt tight, and not in the 2010s way that everything was tight, but bad tight. My stomach poked out of my jeans in a way that my stomach wasn’t supposed to poke out of my jeans. Keep in mind - I was probably a size 0 instead of 00 at this point, and most of this change was just a product of being sixteen instead of fourteen and growing, but to me it felt ominous in a way I didn’t know how to explain. During a group trip to some Scottish landmark or another (see how much attention I paid to this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity my parents spent their hard-earned money to give me?) I remember sitting next to my close friend on the bus as we pulled over to stop for food. I was having relationship trouble with the aforementioned boyfriend, one of the first of many Musical Theatre Straight Boys™ that I would lose my fucking mind over, and I was getting emotional - more emotional than I expected. I realized something else was bothering me, and I turned to her and said “On top of everything else, I just feel… fat. I know I’m not fat, but I’m fat, like, for me.”

Two things here: first and foremost, yes, for that I know I am now the recipient of the Most Annoying Sentence Ever Spoken Aloud award and will provide the mailing address for my trophy at a later date. Second, I said that over ten years ago, and I remember it so clearly that I’m entirely sure that’s exactly what I said, verbatim. We got off the bus, and I walked into the restaurant and, after scanning the menu desperately trying to convince myself I should order something “healthy”, I ordered large steak fries and got back on the bus. I think this was the first time I ever really, consciously used food as a coping mechanism - the first time something small but powerful snapped in my head that told me fuck it - who the fuck cares? You’ve done enough damage already, what’s the point of stopping now?

High school ended, I graduated and we sang “Journey On” from Ragtime at the ceremony (baffling choice but the school was doing Ragtime next year and wanted to squeeze a promo out), I got into several of my top-choice musical theatre colleges and was so excited to go to the one I picked, which, you’ll be charmed to hear, was the absolute worst choice I could’ve made. I was 18 and a little bigger now, firmly in size 0/2 instead of 00 territory, had maybe graduated to a 32B bra instead of A, but still very thin by most standards. This was my first summer as a Very Online Person - I would stay up tlil probably 3 or 4 AM most nights blogging and watching Harry Potter movies for the umpteenth time. Because the rest of my family was, how do I put it, fucking normal, they’d go to bed at 11 or whenever and I’d be up alone for hours on the computer. This is when I started bingeing. We didn’t really keep junk food in my house, nothing legit like Cheetos or Ben and Jerry’s or whatever, but we did have sugar cereal and reduced-fat Oreos and cheese and the occasional box of Triscuts. It became a nightly ritual for me - I’d wait for everyone to go to bed, then tiptoe in to the kitchen and, though I’d eaten dinner hours earlier, start eating again. Stacks of Oreos, multiple bowls of cereal, shredded cheese out of the bag. After a while my mom heard me banging around in the kitchen and told me (in so many words) to shut the fuck up, so my methods changed. I’d bring the box of cereal - Rice Krispies or Cocoa Puffs or whatever - a bowl, and a carton of milk into the bathroom with me. I’d run the sink and open the box and pour the cereal with the water running so no one would hear, and then I’d creep back out to the couch and eat it. Box of Oreos into the bathroom, water on, peel open the plastic, take out the biggest stack I thought I could with no one noticing, eat. Three or four granola bars into the bathroom, water on, wrappers off and hidden behind my bed or the couch or wherever, eat. Rinse and repeat.

I didn’t really know what binge eating was at this point, and some tiny, dark part of my brain buried way in the back told me that this wasn’t normal and it wasn’t good, but I pushed it away because of course I did. I did a few Google searches about it and came across the term “binge eating disorder” but was convinced that could never be me. This was just a thing, just a thing I was doing, and it would go away at the end of the summer when I went away to college because that’s when life was actually starting and it was going to be awesome and I wasn’t going to let this - whatever this was - fuck that up.

But I did, in fact, fuck it up. I fucked it up fast and hard (that’s what she said, ok back to being depressing) and college was not awesome, it was difficult and painful and I was drowning in something I had absolutely no chance of controlling on my own. I accepted very quickly that this thing I was doing had a name, and it was binge eating disorder, and I was all in. I gained weight - not a ton, maybe twenty pounds, and I was never actually overweight, but to me that didn’t matter. I hated how I looked. I overdrew my bank account spending money my mom gave me for groceries on binge food. I spent hours alone in the dining hall eating till I felt physically ill and sometimes threw up involuntarily because my body couldn’t handle what I was doing. One time I stood in the bathroom of my dorm and drank mustard mixed with warm water because I read online that makes you puke and I was so full I wanted to die (it didn’t work, please for the love of GOD don’t drink mustard water or, for that matter, anything else for the express purpose of making yourself vomit). I cancelled plans with friends and skipped classes to stay in and binge, or because I’d binged already that day and could barely move. I stole food from roommates, convincing myself no one would notice, even though of course they fucking noticed. I hid food and packaging and wrappers under my bed, in my closet, in my backpack, wherever I could because I didn’t want anyone to catch on. Lied about why I needed money so my parents would send me some and I could buy more shit. I ate stale food, food from the trash, once I literally ate straight up chocolate sauce (mustard water and chocolate sauce: 10 out of 10 doctors recommend!) because I had nothing else. Waking up for 8 AM ballet classes and seeing my body in a leotard under fluorescent lighting felt like a form of torture Dick Cheney might think was a little too harsh. I saw a therapist over the summers and ate with my parents at home, and things got better, and then I’d go back to school and everything would unravel again. I’m still kind of shocked I made it through.

I’ve been done with school and living in the city for five years now, and I can honestly say that things are better. I mean, not “better”, in the sense that this chapter of the book is still pretty fucking open. But I’m better at dealing with it. The majority of the time now, I eat normally. I still binge, sometimes a lot and sometimes a little, but I carry on and try again the next day. I don’t really restrict to make up for binges anymore. I can eat some foods now that used to send me straight into Eatin’ Town USA, like cheese and bread and maybe even Oreos sometimes. I started enjoying working out, not just logging time on the treadmill as a punishment and feeling like Jean Valjean in the opening number of Les Mis (look down look down you’RE HERE UNTIL YOU DI-IE).

To be honest, I think I’m writing this mostly because the last couple months have been hard. I’ve fallen into some old stupid shitty habits, and I’ve been plugging along like normal and trying to claw myself out. But it’s not quite working like it normally does, and I don’t know why. I know I’ll make it through, because I always have, and what other option is there? But some days lately, I feel like twenty-year-old me, sobbing (very theatrically, natch) on the floor of my apartment because I should be over this by now - how am I not over this by now? This is my ninth year as a binge eater. Almost a decade! Far and away my longest and most committed relationship. When I hit 10 years strong, I should take myself out to a fancy restaurant or something but I don’t know what I’d order.

When I tell people this, I usually get some kind of “I had no idea”/“I’m sorry I didn’t notice”/“I would’ve never guessed” and the truth is that I didn’t, and still don’t, want anyone to notice. Of course I don’t. You don’t hide candy wrappers and empty pizza boxes in your closet with your winter boots because you want people to notice. It’s a very strange and secretive brand of shame that binge eating disorder brings and no one really get it unless they get it, and that’s not something I’d wish on anyone. (Okay, honestly, I’d wish it on some people, like it’s hard as hell but some people suck ass and probably deserve it? Anyway.) As I’ve grown up, I’ve started talking about this more and more. The first time I went public with all of this shit - I think I made a dramatic Instagram post a few years ago whilst day drunk during National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (absolutely incredible and Very Me start to a sentence) - I was shocked at how many people reached out to me privately and were like, hey, me too, and thank you for saying something. I’m still ashamed, but I’m trying not to be, and the more I talk about it the less alone I feel. “There are dozens of us! DOZENS!”

I guess one nice thing about this whole stupid nightmare is it’s kind of a reason why I am who I am. Not the only reason, but still. I started using jokes to cope with this while I was in school, and my sense of humor, whatever the fuck it is today, grew out of that. Except now I don’t joke about this stupid shit because I’m in denial, I do it because it’s real and I’m staring it in the face and it’s not going away, and the absurdity of something so excruciatingly difficult yet so entirely in my control gets fucking terrifying. I guess laughing at it makes it seem small.

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littlethoughtsandfeelings · 7 years

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The Bachelor Australia 2017 Recap – Episode 4

“Hey! Your reviews are too boring!” They say. “Get some screencaps like the other reviews!” They say.

Well, I can’t get copyright free screencaps at this stage, but do you know what I can get you? Stick-figure drawings.

That’s right – I will now be adding my (very bad) stick-figure drawings to the reviews. And you’ll damn well enjoy them.

We open with Matty overlooking a pond, which is apparently at the Sydney Polo Club. It’s raining, and he’s a little too proud of himself for making a pun about dampening the spirits of the day.

Matty says, “Cobie loves animals, and I love horses, so I thought it would be good to join our passions together.” A horse is an animal, though. So it’s not really a joining of two passions, but more like the same passion?

Wait, we’re going straight to the date? No Osher delivering a card or anything? Righto then.

Matty rides in on a horse… with a helmet. I’m all for being safety-conscious, but it definitely takes away a bit of the fairy-tale element.

He hops down, he greets Cobie, and then… Harry the horse does a massive wee. Wow, horses do really big wees, don’t they?

Back at the mansion, the girls discuss how Cobie is going on the date. They’re all super jelly. The evil squad decide that Matty’s tactic is to “save the best for last”, Villain Number Two Jennifer makes a comment that she’s the greatest, someone compares Matty to a schnitty, which I’m assuming is a chicken schnitzel… a lot is happening.

Right, back to the date. Cobie has never ridden before, so Matty has to instruct her. He says, “I’m well aware that she’s on the back of a horse for the first time”, proving his ability to state the obvious.

Cobie uses the word “beautifulest”, so we’ll deduct points for that, however she does acknowledge that it’s not a word, so I guess the points go back on?

They horse ride for a bit, and then get to wash the horses. Peppy, Cobie’s horse, is loving the bath.

But then things escalate and soon Matty and Cobie are hosing each other down, she’s wearing a white singlet, and he’s already calling her “Cobes”… dude, calm down.

Matty’s talking head says, “I know that Cobie and I get along the best when we’re being silly and having a laugh.” Dude. You’ve met her once. How do you even know how you get along at all?

Back at the mansion, Villain Number Two Jennifer thinks that Cobie will fall in the friend-zone because “she’s too cutesy”. Her talking head says that, “Matty’s a man and he wants a woman… I know I give off sex appeal, and for me it’s quite natural.” So, let me get this straight, he doesn’t want an adult acting like a bitchy teenage girl, then?

Still on their date, Matty and Cobie find a SEXYTIME couch in a room “that Matty’s planned out”. Yes. It was definitely all his idea. Wait, this is the date? Horse riding for five minutes and then washing a horse? So we’re saving the big-budget dates until the fifth episode, right? Then it will start to get more interesting, right?

They discuss their dating history, and Cobie opens her heart. She says that she wants to date her best friend, but wants to have a connection too. Matty agrees, saying he wants to be friends first and then have it progress from there. Ha! Take that friend-zone naysayers!

Oh God. She wrote him a poem. It’s the first poem she’s ever written. She explains that because it’s her first time dating in a while, she’s finding it difficult to express herself. So she should definitely try a medium she has no experience in. (Side note: Remember last year someone wrote a poem? Or was it Sam Frost’s season where there was a rap? Let’s hope it’s not as cringey as that.)

It’s a bit cringey, and a bit sweet, and they’re playing romantic music so I think she’s in the clear.

Matty pulls out the rose. She says she really wants to kiss him. I’m cringing so hard. She wants him to go halfway. He’s being all romantic. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY’RE MUSHING! IT’S ROMANTIC! IT’S GOING A LONG TIME! Hghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghghgnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

I can’t cope. I’m not coping. I have lost the ability to cope.

We cut to the next day, and the girls interrogate Cobie. Nothing much is said, but now it’s time for the HYUNDAI SPONSORSHIP. There are literally twenty shots of the car from all different angles. I feel like the cameraman was like, “Yeah, work it, work it.”

Anyway the point of this sponsorship is that Matty is driving to the mansion to surprise them all.

They go to another part of the mansion, which is miraculously sunny, as opposed to the first part of the mansion, where it was pouring with rain.

Osher is holding a giant dice (or die, I guess), and that is not a euphemism. Although it might be, I have no idea.

Osher reveals they’re playing The Bachelor board game and I AM SO ON BOARD. For those who don’t know, there are few things I love more than board games. If you could purchase this game, I would literally be signing over my life savings.

So, the Monopoly knock-off game works like this, they roll a dice, and move a set number of squares. If they land on a square with Matty’s face, he asks you a question, if they land on a square with a rose, Osher asks both of them a question. There’s also a golden cage, for reasons that I’m hoping doesn’t involve BDSM.

Alix goes first, and she and Matty choose different answers for the multiple choice. Thrilling.

Simone is up next, and she lands on “choose a girl to cream pie in the face”. She picks Liz, who she says “never smiles”. It appears that Leah (Villain Number One) and Jennifer (Villain Number Two) also don’t like Liz. What the heck has Liz done? And who is she?

Michelle is next and she lands on a “go to jail” square, which involves the golden cage. But she’s allowed to take her glass of wine, so it’s not that bad really.

Some other girls go and I have no idea who they are. Basically, we learn some facts about Matty: his bike is named Cindy (no you did not read that wrong), his worst trait is that he’s late, and he has no pets.

Matty says that Florence is the biggest surprise, and I agree – the biggest surprise to us is that she’s there.

Cobie lands on “move ahead or free kiss” with Matty. Her talking heads says that she wanted to kiss him, but decided to move forward. Jennifer says that if it was her, she’d totally do it, because she understands and that “everyone’s here for the right reasons”. Yes, Jennifer, I can definitely envisage you being very calm and accepting of it if Cobie chose to kiss Matty in front of you. It seems like your tolerance of the other girls is very selective.

The rest of the game is heavily edited so I don’t really know what’s going on. Basically some ladies get swapped for others, there’s more cream pies to the face, and Michelle gets out of jail. Jennifer is one of the women with a pie to the face, and makes sure to get Matty’s attention before rubbing the cream all over her cleavage. I’m willing to give her characterisation to the producers of the show, and she is doing very well being so unlikeable.

Michelle wins the game, and won… a hug? No extra time? Nothing? What was the point of this stupid game then?!

Afterwards, Cobie says she’s disappointed for not taking the kiss, because as she says, it could have just been a kiss on the cheek. She flags that she wants to raise it with Matty tonight, which seems perfectly reasonable to me, but I guess I haven’t been plied with alcohol and locked in a mansion with 17 other girls who want to date the guy I’m into.

Cocktail Party Time!

Cobie says that she came into this experience not wanting to have any regrets, and she regrets not kissing him, so she wants to clear it up. See, perfectly reasonable.

Florence (who? Ah, the Dutch one) has something to show Matty. He’s getting a lesson in Dutch (side note: what’s that thing to do with fluffs and blankets? Isn’t that something about Dutch?). She puts Matty in a red, striped tie and circular glasses. She dresses up in a half-open white shirt over her black corset-dress, also dons some glasses, and holds a cane/pointer thing, which just gives the overall feel of some light BDSM. Is this the theme for this episode or something?

She teaches him how to say, “You have beautiful eyes” in Dutch. She then teaches him to say, “Will you accept this rose?”, and the whole thing is lightly flirtatious and a bit weird and a teensy bit awkward, like the time we played ‘Let’s Get to Know Matty J!’.

Next girl to chat with Matty is Simone, and it seems like she spends three minutes talking about how nervous she is.

So then the dramahhh: Cobie sees them talking, and approaches. She asks (very politely, I might add) if she can borrow Matty once she’s finished talking with Simone. I’m not really sure why this is an issue, because she gave him an option, but I guess the weirdness was the fact that she just stood off to the side, staring at them.

Simone leaves Matty, and goes to chat to… the Evil Squad? Wait, I thought she was one of the good ones. Simone, wasn’t it like two episodes ago that you hated these girls? And now you’re confiding in them? She says, “[Cobie]’s had two group dates and a single date”, and she isn’t impressed with the interruption.

Villain Number Two Jennifer says that Cobie “plays sweet, she plays cute, but she’s a hustler, she’s a bitch.” She also uses the word “hustler” again in a talking head. Jennifer, I’m not sure that word means what you think it means. Isn’t a hustler a gambler? Someone who, in fact, hustles? Looking this up, there is an alternative meaning, which is a prostitute, but I’m not sure she was going for something that aggressive. I can only assume she was going for “hussy”, which Google says, is a “brazen or immoral woman”. And that’s been your vocabulary lesson for today, class. Just, use words correctly, Jennifer.

Anyway, in the actual chat with Matty, Cobie explains why she didn’t choose to kiss him. Matty’s totally cool with it, saying it totally wasn’t an issue, unlike last season when Georgia Love had the issue of Courtney not giving her enough attention in group situations. You can’t win with this show.

Now for the second dramahhh: Leah walks in on their chat and asks if she can take Cobie back because she upset a lot of people. Cobie says she just needs two more minutes, and Leah says again, that she upset a lot of people. It’s very awkward and Matty seems annoyed.

Then, histrionic Leah takes her information back to the Evil Squad, saying that Cobie said she doesn’t care that she hurt other people’s feelings (for the record, she did say “I don’t care”, but to me it came across as more of a “ok, cool, leave me alone” than a “I hate everybody!” kind of thing).

Some of the girls try to defend Cobie, including Laura. You know what, Laura? You’re really growing on me. Anyway she says that Cobie wouldn’t have meant it in a malicious way, which is the way Leah is relaying it, and she’s so done with this shit.

Oh man, now she has to bloody deal with Jennifer. FFS this is so bloody frustrating. Laura says that she loves Cobie, and Jennifer says, “WE ALL LOVE COBIE”, and I let out an actual witches’ cackle. Lisa says she’s really happy Laura stood up for Cobie, and I’m on any team with Lisa and Laura on it. (Readers, I know what you’re thinking. Last episode I was on Simone’s side, and now she’s turned out to be one of the bad ones. Look, I guess I’m just on the side against evil, ok? I’m bloody Harry Potter.)

Cobie and Matty walk out into the group of girls, and Jennifer basically pounces on her, saying, “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Cobie.”

It’s a bit awkward, but that’s mostly thanks to the editing and sound effects. We don’t get to see any more of the fallout, because this is The Bachelor, and if there’s one thing this show doesn’t know how to do, it’s transitions.

Rose Ceremony time!

Osher introduces Matty, saying the ladies look a bit better than during the “Crème de la crème of board games”. They have literally said that phrase three times this episode, and for once, I’m not exaggerating.

Matty picks a few girls, and he asks Florence to accept her rose in the Dutch he learnt, which is pretty sweet.

For a second, I’m thinking that maybe he’ll get rid of one of the villains tonight, and squash the issues in the house. It would be fitting with his ‘I’m not taking any shit this season’ attitude he’s displayed so far. Like he gets a say in it.

He clearly doesn’t, and Jennifer and Leah both get roses. Jennifer sashays up to him, and I feel like she really treats him like a prize to be won, which in fairness, he kind of is in this context, but you don’t have to treat him like that.

This is the one thing I really dislike about this show. It’s not like Matty is going to pick either of these mean girls in the end. They’re clearly there to further their radio career, or their red carpet reporting career *cough Laurina cough*. They’re easy fodder to just add some manufactured dramahhh to the show, and look, it works: the show is selling a product, and we’re all buying it. But how cool would it be to just see a bunch of nice people and them all behaving respectfully of each other, and Matty just picks who he likes best? Huh? WHAT’S WRONG WITH THAT UTOPIA?!

The other thing is that it is definitely not his choice to keep all of these girls. There’s clearly a stipulation in his contract that the producers would get a say in some (if not all) of the girls chosen. Which means we’re basically waiting ten weeks for him to get rid of the ones he knew on the first night that he didn’t like.

Anyway, tangent over – It’s down to Elise (apparently a montage girl) and Belinda (apparently the Love Coach who made Matty stare into her eyes). Elise gets the rose.

Later, Belinda. Good luck with your love coaching.

Next Episode: A high building, and some more dramahhh with Cobie. And a face-off date?! Not like the movie, I’m assuming, although that could be cool. (Side note: Remember when Sam the model was on that kind of date and he had to go home? Hahahaha it was great.) And Sian gets grumpy at the cocktail party. Ummm… who is she again?

#tv #tvreview #recaps #thebachelorau #thebachelor #tvrecap

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thehobbblog · 7 years

Text

Entry #14

AIR SWEET AIR SWEET FRESH fucking underground bullshit air But at least it’s moving. As usual, the Underground as a whole is unimpressed with our actions. Life goes on, no matter what happened to the Moloch, or how silly we looked down there. All that matters is that we remember it, and we got some stuff. There was a nice example of how little anyone gives a shit, just outside. A Devily lady, on her way back from Exile. Said her “Companion” was a Daredevily. This made the party suspect, and the idiots got all in her face and berated her for like, six minutes. Apparently, Daredevelies are a thing that exist. They’re like Develies, but they get off on sinning. Or something. Or maybe they sinned so much that they’re mind and body changed. I dunno. The party seems to think they’re serious business, and Alice is still livid to the Violence one. I don’t think I wanna ask. In addition to existing, they have a settlement nearby. That if we were to go any further into the Exile, we’d have to pass through. So you know, windows up and don’t stop I guess. This Devily lady had a companion in the settlement, and made us swear not to kill him. We have no way of knowing which one is him, so I guess we’ll just not kill anyone. Regardless of Alice's whining. Anyway, we quit antagonizing the civilian, and she left. Avram finally got reception on his PAI, which buzzed to life. It’s cute, really. I like robots, and this was a tiny little AI. Promised to help. Avram installed Devily Google on the thing, and then we googled basically nothing important. And Anna hates birds, which is weird for a druid. Weylinn tried to embarrass me in front of the new guy, by calling me paranoid about not trusting the Sakko we saw at the camp. And then gallantly led the party in the wrong fucking direction back to Sakko’s camp. Where I was totally fucking right. Everyone’s gone, except Goldie and Geheim. Sakko wasn’t Sakko, it was VIolence. ANd now all the plants are tearing ass across the Underground, and we gotta get them. Because I missed the damn “Detect evil dudes” or whatever this bullshit I’m supposed to do. I fucking hate everything. Fortunately, real Sakko was there. To further embarrass us that we ever thought that Violence was Sakko; the guy’s like, twenty feet on each side. Carries a sword that’s just a sharpened chunk of mountain. I’m not fucking around, it’s like some childhood hero wandered out of storybook and started giving us orders. He’s giving us a cart, and lobsters. Lobsters that can carry the cart int he desert we’re about to go into. Desert lobsters, if you will. King was present, apparently he and Sakko know each other. King took responsibility for Alice’s curse, as well as Avram’s. Which is fucking curious, because not a day ago King had no earthly idea what Alice's curse belt did. Sakko tried to remove them both, but only got Alice’s curse cured. Which is fair, Avram sort of deserved his. But, enough fucking around. Sakko hadn’t forgotten why this all happened. He asked for apprentices on the radio, and I showed up. There were lessons I had to learn, and redemption with the plant people had to wait. True to his storybook nature, the task was needlessly complicated, but presented straightforward. I was to make my way--alone-- to a group of Hidden Ones, and offer my assistance. Climb a mountain, get a Phoenix egg and come back. Putting aside for a moment that fucking phoenixes exist, and are apparently just like a thing that you can stumble into, how the fuck am I supposed to climb back down the mountain with a flaming egg? Nobody said this Paladin shit was supposed to be easy, but fuck me, you know? Well, I was off. Made it to the cliffside, met the Hidden Ones. Apparently their bugs were getting upset, and rhythmically pounding on their mountain side. Said that if I were to remove the phoenix egg, they’d stop. Sounds cool, right? I get a Phoenix egg, and they get to not have a mountain fall on them? Fucking scary they have bugs that can knock over a mountain, and they just raise those bitches. But you know I’m not one to judge. I am absolutely one to judge. Stupid fucking bug farmers and thier big ass murder bugs gonna have to learn to solve their own problems. Or at least act grateful when I solve their stuff.

One of them looked alright actually. There was a lonely bat dude staring off the cliffside, sort of lost. Introduced myself, told him that if he hears me screaming not to fret, Paladins being a pillar of strength and all. And then I climbed the fucking cliff in full fucking armor. I’m glad I didn’t bring the Corbin, because it sucked super hard. On the other hand, I scaled a fucking cliff in full fucking armour, so that was cool. The murder bugs were on top of the cliff. Like I was told, they didn’t attack because I kept eye contact. However, these bugs were familiar. You remember the Dungeon Breaker bug, that scared the shit out of us in the Halls? They were like, bigger ones of those. Didn’t wanna fuck with it, so I left. Got to the top of the mountain, found the egg. Luckily it wasn’t on fire or anything, unluckily I wasn’t the first one to the egg. There was a Devily there, waiting. Unlike most Develys, this one was smiling. Had one horn. Had a pure vacume of all moral radiation, a whole lot like what I got off the fake Sakko. “Great” I thought “I’mma bout to die to give Alice a less petty reason to chase this fucker.” Well, no sense going out like a hero in his company. If nobody’s around I’d rather go out like a bitch, honestly. We stood around for a while, and had a discussion about how much pain one would ‘hypothetically’ be in if they were thrown off the mountain, and how pretty it would be to die there. I tried to get the guy to yodel for me, actually. He was using the shit excuse of being a Devily who’s really into mountains so I tried to roll with that. Ended up just annoying him. Like, to the point he was clenching his teeth and shivering. I guess Paladins aren’t supposed to fuck about when they get the chance to be the big hero. In his plan, I supposed to declare him a sinner and smite him like a hero, or pick up the egg and get pushed off a cliff like an idiot. I guess he didn’t know me very well. He eventually broke character, and we got to talk honestly for a bit. He made me two promises. 1. He was going to beat the everloving shit out of me 2. I was going to die I asked if he’d reconsider throwing me off the mountain, but he was a little more interesting in the “tearing my entrails out” thing. And the fight began. He popped a potion, whatever that does. And I stabbed him. He was pretty impressed, actually. Apparently he took me for some sort of bitch who lets everyone solve his problems for him. I’m not that kid anymore. I stabbed him a second time, Deeper. I’m such a fucking idiot right? “Just stab the bad guy, Hobbs. It isn’t hard.” And it wasn’t. He scratched my face, chest and arms in a flurry of strikes. I smiled, I laughed and I bled. He was invigorated by this, taunting me and my hopelessness. I stabbed him a third time. Twisted the blade. I get it. I’m a fucking idiot. I get that I overthink things. And I get that I can’t hide behind indecision forever. I can’t fuck around and pretend that thinking about problems is the morally right thing to do. People are in danger, and I’m responsible for them. I decided Violence was going to learn one thing today: what it means for me to carry my sister’s name. And then he ripped my throat out. The leathery bastard just kept speeding up. He had such a flair for the dramatic, I could always strike him, but the asshole could just move so much in so little time. Without a shield, or neck armor I was an open book. Claws cut flesh, and I choked on blood. I backed up, used the Paladin power to heal myself. I needed to breath if I were to hit this guy. My heels were at the edge of the cliffside. And Violence tore into me again. Promising that if I could just survive, he’d let me go. How gracious. And I didn’t die. So he kept his word. This Violence guy, he means what he says. He said he was going to kick the shit out of me, and he did. He said he’d let me go if I put up a fight, and he did. He gave me advice. I’m not sure I should be listening. But I did. I took it to heart, and for that reason I won’t share it. You didn’t earn it like I did. Fuck it’s beautiful up here. I got a picture actually, I’ll upload it when I figure it out. I think I could live here. Wake up every day to this. Well, the bat people would mind. Maybe I could just die here. Fall asleep, staring at the open expanse of what could have been. All of it equally possible, nobody blames me for not doing it. I didn’t die up there. But I almost wish I did. After a good long sit, I got up. I wasn’t missing anything important anymore, and I was alone with the egg. The egg that wasn’t a phoenix egg, because Violence had planned this. The egg that was planted there by the bat people, as a Maguffin to have me killed. The egg I was taking anyway, because I fucking earned it. The daydreamer bat showed up, actually. Explained the whole thing. He assured me that it wasn’t personal, that his people needed the money Violence gave them for this stunt. And I really didn’t care. I didn’t care if I died, and I didn’t care I was still here. I had a job to do, and he needed forgiveness. I gave him the forgiveness, and he showed me the way down without climbing the mountain. I got to camp, everyone was fine. Only Sakko cared about how it went. Alice got riled up about Violence being there, and started her “I’m really the good one here” shit. Sakko healed me up, and taught me a proper lesson. He taught me that patience is a virtue, and one not to be wasted. That forgiving the bat people was a mistake, and if I were to forgive Violence I’d be a fool. But I really only had enough energy for one lesson today. .

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