#anyway NEVER bet on me slipping on a writing goal. I said I was gonna hit my yearly goal and finish this draft by the end of the year

[essektheylyss]

love when I say something and a day later I'm just like "what the hell was I talking about, that was blatantly wrong"

#me: this draft isn't really flowing— #also me: writes like 24k on that draft in four days #anyway NEVER bet on me slipping on a writing goal. I said I was gonna hit my yearly goal and finish this draft by the end of the year #and goddamnit I'm gonna do it. #my only consistent positive trait is writing discipline this is all I've got going for me #we'll see what tomorrow brings tho cuz I truly do not know what's happening with this final un-outlined chapter #HOWEVER I'm down to 22.5k for the year and like 30k at most left in this draft and I've got 10 days left? pssh. #and then I have to EDIT. [screaming crying throwing up etc] #which will suck cuz I think this is ending up farrrr more horror-esque than expected so. #tonal editing will be realllll #but I think it'll also be fun. dichotomy of megs. #anyway ignore me I'm just muttering out loud cuz I was like 'what the fuck was I talking about. why did I say that.'

[lydias--stiles]

♡ IT HAD TO BE YOU, WONDERFUL YOU ♡

canon compliant juke valentine’s day fic ♡ for all you sweethearts in the fandom

Before hopeless romantic Julie Molina fell in love with Luke Patterson, she always felt glum on Valentine’s Day. She tortured herself with romcoms leading up to the holiday, went into the “couples goals” tag on Pinterest, pouted when her crushes she never talked to dated other people (read: Nick) and felt all around envious of those having a lover to spend the day with. Her mother dying, she who held the biggest heart of all, also didn’t help her mood.   

But that was before Luke blasted himself into her life. Sure, their romance was a little unorthodox, but predictability was overrated anyway.

They got together last summer, when the band played an amazing gig at a tiki bar on the beach and they were drunk on the heat, pink lemonade and each other’s adoring gazes. Dancing on the beach with him and the boys, Luke had grabbed her in his embrace and whispered lyrics at her she’s never heard before. His fingers grazed her jaw when he said it was a love letter - “For you, Jules.” She didn’t have to go far to reach his lips, both eager and giddy to finally come home.

(Weeks later, the love letter was transposed to music and performed for an audience. It was full circle moment. He loved music and her and now it was all connected. Luke had been dazed, but Julie was quick to kiss the stupor away. They could do that now. It was insane.) 

All week, Julie had been working on a secret gift. She scoured her room was scraps and pictures and notes; reminders of Luke hidden in every corner without realising it. A purple pick was found under her bed, a song in her dream box they never got to finish, a seashell he plucked from the beach, a row of pictures from a photo booth, love notes. Julie would lie if she said she didn’t find it adorable how his only reference of romance were the 80s flicks, as it gave her a heartthrob of a boyfriend that didn’t back down from cute gestures like those notes. It left her heart racing and brought a blush on her cheekbones. the sun’s jealous of that smile jules

It was only natural she made him a collage. 

They had an unspoken agreement to never involve money. Though they were in a band together, all the money they made directly went to Julie. She invested it back in their life passion, obviously, but the fact remained that Luke couldn’t take her on typical dates or buy her the typical gifts. Until American Ghost Dollars got invented, they had to be creative. 

Going to the movies were movie nights in the studio with a projector and cookies they made together. A love song instead of dinner. Dancing in her bedroom with AirPods instead of partying.     

And it was enough. It was more than enough. She loved him so much that each second spend together was perfect as is. 

The collage was small enough that he could easily tuck it away. Pictures overlapped, a dozen Mini Luke’s and Mini Julie’s staring at the camera or each other, from before and after they started dating. 

A photo Flynn took of Luke peppering her temple with kisses backstage. A polaroid of when she snuck up on him and smacked a kiss on his cheek, his teeth flashing white from the beam on his face. A Snapchat of when she showed him the filters and he kissed her instead. Multiple pictures of them snuggling on the studio couch, supposed ‘blackmail’ for Alex, but Julie cherished them. If she closed her eyes, she could feel his arms wrap around her back as she’s sprawled on top of him.

The pretty shell didn’t fit on the collage, so she decided to make a bracelet as well. A thick band made from orange, red and yellow string, the shell as its penchant. 

That morning, she pulled on her most Valentine’s day inspired outfit and rushed to the studio. Her gifts were still in her room, out of sight and kept for later, now she just wanted to see her boyfriend. 

Her smile, painted in cherry lipgloss, stretched wider when she slid the doors open and saw that no one was inside. Just last night had he kissed her a little longer after rehearsal, wiggling his brows like he knew something she didn’t. Luke was terrible at keeping secrets. She wasn’t surprised to find it empty, unless…

Luke poofed in front of her with a warrior cry and hoisted her up in one fluid motion. Julie yelled in delight, gripping onto him as he spun them around. For the occasion, he swapped his regular orange beanie for a red one. (One day, her heart was going to explode from all the silly stuff he did.) Matching her expression, his hands steadied her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.    

An index finger flicked his chin playfully. “How long did it take you to plan this?”

He gasped, faux-offended. “Julie! I’m spontaneous as shit.”

“Mh-hm,” she hummed, leaning in to kiss his lips. His frown melted away, the languid kiss flickering with the hint of passion it usually held. Slowly, he set her down, her staying locked between his arms. When she pulled back, he chased after her and pecked the side of her mouth - once, twice.    

“I’m gonna smother you with so much kisses that you’re gonna get sick of me,” he declared, as if the threat of loving her was scary. 

She pressed her forehead against his with a grin. “I look forward to it.”

Instantly keeping up his promise, he nuzzled against her cheek. “What’d you wanna do?”

“Well, we’re ending the day in the hammock.”

“Duh.”

“And,” she sneakily added, “we can be really cheesy and watch ‘Valentine’s Day’.”

He made a face, both remembering their divided opinion on the movie. “If we’re seeing it again, then I’m choosing all the snacks.”

“Deal.”

“Nice,” he breathed, raising his fist between their torsos so she could bump it with her own. Her cheeks were already aching from smiling so much, giddy to spend the entire day with her boyfriend undisturbed by the boys or family or school. 

Her fingers scratched into his plaid jacket. “You know what I’m also looking forward to?” His eyes narrowed at her lilting voice. “Giving you your present.”

His jaw fell slack. “Jules, now I’m gonna be thinking about it all day.” But then she saw the devilish glint in the green of his irises as he uttered: “Guess you’ll have to wait on your present too.”

“You-” That was unexpected. “You have a present?”

Luke bit down on his lip, watching her surprise. “I was waiting for that reaction. Sweet. Okay, I’m saying we dip everything in chocolate. Fruit, popcorn-”

“I’m willing to try one of those crazy combinations you love so much,” she proposed. The excited smooch she got afterwards was worth it.

The couple claimed the kitchen for an hour as they made their snacks, most of which being the typical chocolate covered strawberries both liked a lot, and then nestled themselves in her room. Curled into his warm body, they shared earphones as they watched ‘Valentine’s Day’. Though she asked to watch it, all her attention went to his hands continuously caressing her waist and thigh. It lulled her into a blissful trance. Sometimes he would make a joke (“We’re way cooler than Taylor and Taylor!”) and she’d chuckle and hum and rub his chest. By the time Jessica Biel was smashing the piñata, she was placing soft kisses on his neck and he had to pause the movie. 

Hovering over her with a wolfish grin, he pecked her nose. “I thought you wanted to watch.”

“And I thought you were going to smother me with kisses,” she bounced back with a quirked brow. For a beat, they shared an amused look. 

Then Luke laughed, diving for her lips and doing just that. That rushing feeling coursed through her veins, a pure shot of adoration and attraction with each warm, open-mouthed kiss. He tasted like chocolate, skin sticky from fruit, and smelled in that perfectly boyish way. Julie sighed into the kiss. No cheesy movie or love song could compete with the sensation of slipping her fingers in his hair and having his arms tighten like he never wanted her to stop. Her bedroom was heaven on earth.   

(Perhaps that was silly. She was only seventeen after all. How much did she actually know about the world to accurately make that statement? But did it even matter if right now, right here, she felt like the luckiest girl in the universe? The cynics could bite her.) 

She didn’t know how long they let their lips and hands wander. It was hard to care about time when his mouth was on her ear and her nails drew shapes on his back. 

“I bet,” he whispered, “Taylor and Taylor never felt like this.”

She giggled. “You’re just jealous of the big teddy bear.”

His smile pressed on her cheek. “Maybe.”

When Luke and her first got together, they were scared to touch. Sure, they had their moment on the beach and previously, they found plenty of opportunities to be in contact. But after they made if official and there was nothing to hide behind anymore, it got scary. They yearned for affection, but what if Luke disappeared one day without meaning to and then they’d both ache for each other’s comfort? They got over it eventually and now it was only natural to feel his smile on her skin.

It was hard to imagine kissing anyone but Luke, unfathomable having a different boy hug her from behind at school and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Only Luke could write her love notes. Only she was allowed to write him ones as well, or leave cute post-it’s on his guitar to cheer him up when he had a bad day. It was just them.

Her mind going haywire over such a simple touch jolted her memory, Julie abruptly sitting up and bringing Luke with her. His brows raised in surprise. She pecked the pout away, brushing her nose against his. 

“Can I give you your present?”

A breathy smile tugged on his cheeks. “Yeah, I’m curious.”

Julie untangled herself from their embrace and reached inside her wardrobe for the gift. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, she gave him his present with barely-concealed anticipation. Hopefully he loved it as much as she loved making it! 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she sang, watching him pull the tissue paper out the small bag and unearthing the collage and bracelet. 

Speechless, he gawked at the collection of pictures. Eyes flitted past each quickly, like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Crawling over to sit beside him, she placed her head on his shoulder. “You like it?”

He sniffled. Julie looked up and was shocked to note his eyes were shiny. “Aw, babe!”

His gaze caught hers, distraught. “You’re not supposed to make me horny and then emotional!”

She laughed and pressed a kiss on his cheek. His cute reaction made her heart lurch with fondness. “It wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”

Luke sighed, hand guiding her face to place a proper kiss on her lips. It was short, but just as electric as all the ones before. He kissed like he played guitar - always intentional and one hundred percent. 

“I love it,” he muttered. “Thank you. And I love the bracelet too.”

“I made sure it matches your others.”

He captured her lips again. “Yeah… Thanks, Jules.” His nose scrunched, arrogance dripping from his voice as he tucked a curl behind her ear. “My present is better though.”

Her arms crossed, challenged. “Oh really?”

“Hell yeah, it is. Gonna knock it out of the park.” With a snap of his finger, he conjured his songbook and stuck the collage between two fresh pages. He clicked his tongue with the typical bravado he exuded onstage. “Who knows, Jules, you might even get a crush on me.”

Just as she was about to retort with a tease of her own, her eyes caught a fluttering page with words she didn’t recognise. Pointing at it, she asked: “What’s that?”

Luke frowned, thumbing to the right side and rolling his eyes. “Some lyrics that got stuck in my head a few nights ago. It doesn’t work though.”

“Maybe not. I kind of like that part.” She tapped on the line ‘so deep, your DNA's being messed with my touch’ with a pensive wrinkle knitted in her forehead. Ideas began to brew, throwaway pieces from other discarded songs coming back to her and meshing well with what he’s already composed. “Yeah, this is good, Luke. Do you want to work on it?”

He hesitated for a beat, stare trailing from her to the half-eaten plate of snacks. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” she smiled. They were Luke and Julie - did either of them really think they could go a day without music? Even if she hadn’t discovered this diamond in the rough, he’d inevitably spring upright to write down a riff or her fingers would tingle to try out a melody. Songwriting was perhaps the best date of all, showing that work and play could successfully be mixed together. 

He sighed in relief. “Good. Okay, so I was thinking…”

Hours went by tinkering on the song, the afternoon drifting by and them having moved to the hammock in the garden. It was a spot Luke rediscovered and she all too willingly found a place next to him. They cherished the quietude and warmth even before they were dating. The page was now littered with flowing, strung-together verses and a half-done chorus. Instrumentals were for tomorrow when they were all together. In the back of her head lingered the thought that he still hasn’t given his supposed homerun of a present, but Julie reminded herself then that it didn’t even matter. This was enough. He was enough. Who knew, maybe he was just talking smack! The doubts vanished as Luke drummed his fingers on her stomach, humming a beat.      

“And you thought it wouldn’t work!”, she teased. 

He puffed. “Cause it didn’t! It needed the Molina Touch!”

A brow quirked, amused. “The Molina Touch?”

“Yes,” he grinned and tapped her chest. “The Touch.”

“I don’t have the Force, Luke.” When his face fell flat, she decided to play along and mimicked his motion. Her fingers circled his sternum as she said: “Well, I look forward to the Patterson Energy bringing it alive onstage.”

The boy rolled on his side, she following suit. The hammock bended to the movement, pushing them closer together. The couple snickered, noses nudging and locked in the other’s arms. Above, the sky was coloured like Monet, purples and blues and pinks as the sun dropped below the trees. Julie stared at the way he craned his neck, green eyes blown wide while marvelling at the sweeping atmosphere. He was the most beautiful person she’s ever encountered. She was probably a little obsessed with him, never bored of looking at him, of finding new freckles, moles and spots. 

Her reverie snapped like a bubble as he said something. 

“What?”

He repeated himself. “Wanna get waffles?”

She blinked. “Waffles?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “V-Day waffles. I bet they have red velvet ones.” His face twisted, like he was in on an inside joke, and murmured against her lips: “Whipped cream, Jules. Can’t resist that.”

Damn. He knew her too well. “Reggie’s going to be mad we went without him.”

“Then he should get himself a ghost lover,” he joked. Slapping her hip, the exclaim was resolute. “Let’s go!”

The drive was short, an surprising amount of waffle places scattered around Los Feliz. The cityscape was painted red for the day. Heart-shaped wreaths adorned the doors of stores, bars promoted special cocktails with pink hues, boutiques displaying date night dresses on mannequins in the windows. At the end of a large strip of food joints, a waffle house joining in with a red banner hung across the frontage. RED VELVET WAFFLES! ONLY TODAY!

Julie shot him a suspicious look. “You knew?”

He shrugged, smirking. “A good guess.”

They were lucky. The parking lot was pretty much abandoned, no onlookers to see her joking around with air. He stayed in the car as she got the treats.

As she queued, her aimless thoughts found Luke as a focal point. It was hard not to. Maybe the best thing of all for a hopeless romantic like her, was that she found someone who was an even bigger dreamer than she was. If she jumped for the stars, he rocketed himself into space and hoped for the best. It made days like Valentine’s special, but it also felt like another regular Saturday. He didn’t kiss her differently, looked at her more intently - it was always like this. The red velvet waffles was just… extra. A cherry on an already perfect milkshake. Luke and Julie never needed fireworks to make the other feel remarkable. 

Dropping back in the driver’s seta with a sigh, she propped the waffles on the dashboard. “I’m not sure if it’s going to taste right, they look kind of mushy, but I’m sure the whipped cream-” The words died in her throat as she looked at Luke, a timid smile on his lips as his present laid flat in his hands. A mixtape. 

Her eyes tracked the CD for a beat (jules <3 written in sharpie with his infamous scrawl) and then flicked up to his face. That was most spectacular of all: the nervous twitch in his eye, the breathy smile. Luke was flustered.       

Gingerly, she took it from his grasp. “How did you make this?”, she whispered. 

The palpable energy didn’t waver. “Carlos. He lend me his computer and explained how to burn CD’s.” His chuckle was awkward. “Had to get you in the car somehow.”

A smile bloomed on her lips. Her heart was truly going to explode; the gesture so thoughtful and sweet. (Shit. He did knock it out of the park. How will his ego cope?!) Reaching over the middle console, she chastely kissed him. “I already love it.”

He shook his head with a grin, shoulders loosening a bit. “You haven’t listened to it yet. C’mon, play it.” He shot her a cocky nod. “You know how to use a CD-player?”

“Very funny,” she quipped. Cautiously, she took the CD out of its case and slipped it into the player. It whirred for a beat, her upping the volume, and just as she thought she’d hear some 90s rock band, something unexpected happened. 

hey jules

She froze, staring at Luke’s feverishly excited face, as his crackling voice came through the speakers.  

i finally learned about technology! you happy? anyway, you know i love you. i love everything about you, i think… i think that’s kinda why i’m here to begin with.

Tears lodged itself in her chest, ready to spill. Love was going to make her go mad one day. She loved this boy so much that it was insurmountable by anything else.

that’s not- it’s not what this cd is about. His tone brightened. what i love most about you, julie molina, is how fucking in love you are with music. so what better thing to give you, is more music? these are ten songs that remind me of you… happy valentine’s day, baby. 

It clicked off. Quietly, slowly, a melodious piano variation flowed in. Her breath hitched as she recognised it. Frank Sinatra’s ‘It Had To Be You’ reminded Luke of her? Her hands were shaking. His calloused ones grabbed them, pads of his fingers caressing the skin. A pout jutted from her lips, her eyes shimmering with emotion. It wasn’t fair. Boys weren’t supposed to be this romantic. 

His smile could light up the entire state, touch trailing across her arm up to her cheek, grazing the lone tear that she wasn’t even aware of. “Don’t cry,” he chuckled. “I can be the only sap.”

Shaking her head, she pushed herself over the console and placed herself on his lap. The divide of a stick shift was a plain crime. Circling her arms around his neck, Julie kissed him in the way she thought the song felt. Warm and languid and timeless and wholly, utterly loving. Depthless and infinite. The thrill of his bass voice melted them together, no space between them with his hands wrapped around her lower back. 

For nobody else gave me a thrill With all your faults, I love you still It had to be you, wonderful you It had to be you

“I love you,” she sighed into his mouth. “It’s not enough. It’s not…”

He kissed the lament away. “I know. That’s why music works.” Sinatra sang a line and then he grinned. “Gotta express ourselves somehow.”

Though that was true, though they had music to shape their thoughts into the most beautiful declarations of love, all she wished to have was a word. A simple word that perfectly encapsulated what she felt. Love felt too small. Too simple. But until she found it, she’d keep saying it.

And so she did. “I love you, Luke.” 

His eyes shut in delight. “I love you too, Julie.”

They wouldn’t leave for a long time. Locked in each other’s loving embrace, they listened to every song on the mixtape. And when it ended, they looped it.

Time and space wasn’t really important to them anyway.     

For nobody else gave me a thrill With all your faults, I love you still It had to be you, wonderful you It had to be you

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @ourstarscollided​​ @alexjulies​ @unsaid-emily​ @willexx​

#i will force any person to listen to jazz thats my life mission #happy valentine's day! #juke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #otp: i think we make each other better

[imagines-by-rose]

New Recruit - Part 4

Hello again! This one took a bit longer than I’d meant it to, but I’m glad to say it’s finally here. Hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n is brought into Kingsman as Lancelot after the events leading to Roxy’s death, and Eggsy is furious. As the two work together to stop a notorious jewel thief, however, attitudes change - and feelings develop.

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Genre: Angst w/ a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Gun Violence, Blood, Near Death Experience, Cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tower of London stood strong against the black curtain of the night. The bright lights cast upon its face drew long shadows across imposing brickwork. Cold winds whipped round dotted crenulations, making the castle seemingly hum with life. Y/n stared in fascination, excitedly wondering what she’d find inside.

Eggsy, on the other hand, only had eyes for her. His heart warmed at the happiness in her features.

“Can you imagine what this castle must have seen?” Y/n asked no one in particular, her face transfixed out the window of the car. “It was built, what, a thousand years ago? Just think of the stories it could tell.”

Eggsy chuckled, pulling her attention toward him.

“What?” she smirked.

“Nothing, love. Just enjoying your excitement, is all. We haven’t even been inside yet.”

Y/n beamed. “Oh, I can’t wait! I bet it’ll be absolutely breathtaking.”

Eggsy kissed her cheek. “I’m sure you will,” he whispered.

Merlin cleared his throat from the front seat, his smiling eyes glinting at the two agents through the rearview mirror. “I hope you lovebirds haven’t forgotten why we’re here. Remember the mission, first and foremost.”

“Of course” Eggsy gave with a nod.

“Ivanov should be planning to steal the diamond before its unveiling. Keep an eye out during the procession and stop her before she gets the chance, understood? Best case scenario, the event carries on as normal and nobody is the wiser. In and out.”

“Nice to finally be on a relatively quick mission, innit?” Eggsy joked, hands coming to rest behind his head. “Not everyday we don’t have to go in expectin’ a total shootout.”

“Aye. But don’t let your guard down; Ivanov is likely to have armed help. Always be prepared for what may happen.”

Y/n swallowed. Her training helped her keep her mind clear in dire situations, sure, but there was no substitute for the real thing. She chastised herself for forgetting the dangers of her job, even if for a moment. She’d be damned if she put Eggsy’s life in jeopardy; as a rookie or otherwise.

Eggsy sensed her unease and took her hand.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright, love. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”

She laced her fingers with his.

“Yeah.”

*  *  *  *  *  *

The thick air of the crowded lobby was a welcome change from the winter chill outside. Voices resonated against the stone walls as elegantly clad patrons engaged in light conversation. Y/n recognized nearly every face, keeping a sharp eye on those which were unfamiliar. No sign of Ivanov so far, but one can never be too careful.

“Would sir care for a drink?”

Eggsy didn’t hesitate, slipping into character with practiced ease. “Martini. Gin -- not vodka, obviously -- stirred for ten seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth. Thank you.”

Y/n fondly rolled her eyes at Eggsy’s request, bringing her hand to her lips to suppress a laugh.

The bartender nodded, turning to y/n. “And for you, madame?”

“A French 75, please.”

“Right away, of course.”

The waiter took off towards the bar, and the two were left to wander the lobby. Y/n wrung her hands anxiously. Her eyes darted round the room, scrutinizing every unfamiliar face for signs of a threat. She acutely felt the cold metal of the pistol strapped to her leg beneath her emerald gown. It was reassuring, in a way.

Eggsy bent down to whisper in her ear, his hand settling in its newfound home above her hip.

“You’re doing fine, love. No need to be nervous. Merlin said this should be an in-and-out mission anyway; mingle, detain Ivanov, and protect the diamond. Nice and easy for your first time in the field, yeah?”

Y/n nodded, relaxing slightly.

The waiter returned, two drinks set on a silver platter. White gloves meticulously presented the agents with delicate crystalline goblets, which they accepted gracefully.

Y/n took a sip of her cocktail. “I’m just paranoid, I guess. Any face I don’t recognize from the dossier I just assume is an enemy. It’s like there are eyes watching us from every angle.”

Eggsy pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

“It’s always good to be aware. I’ve been watching them, too. Don’t let it distract you; just keep those faces in your sights and you’ll be alright.” He smirked. “You forget we’re armed to the teeth, love. If anyone tries anything they won’t get very far.”

The two agents waded through a sea of luxurious outfits and exquisite accessories, saying pleasantries to those they recognized from their research and all the while scanning the room for anything suspicious. During a tedious affair with a rather pompous Mr. Barnaby, y/n’s eyes fell on Ivanov standing by the window.

“Clive, dear, suddenly I feel lightheaded. If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Barnaby, but I think I need some air.”

The man’s beady eyes widened. “Good heavens! Are you unwell, miss?”

“Love, are you alright?” Eggsy asked, concerned, before picking up y/n’s signal as she eyed the alcove to their left. Ivanov was there, looking toward the display case in the center of the room. She was speaking through an earpiece discreetly enough to go unnoticed by anyone not paying close attention.

Y/n leaned into Eggsy slightly, feigning weakness. “I’ll be fine. I’d like to sit by the window for a while, if that’s alright. The heat from the crowd is stifling. Clive, would you mind coming with me?”

“Of course, darling.”

Once the two were out of Barnaby’s sight, Eggsy set his watch to stun, and broke off from y/n, who had her pistol at the ready. The two advanced on Ivanov from either side, closing in as they weaved through the crowd.

An abrupt warning shouted from above, and Ivanov ducked.

It was then that Eggsy heard the gunshot.

*  *  *  *  *  *

The shot was deafening against the stone walls. Eggsy’s ears rang, a shrill white noise that cut through the panicked screams of the crowd. People clamored toward the exit, trampling over each other to safety. Eggsy took advantage of the quickly emptying room and located the source. One man stood still in the chaos -- Ivanov’s lackey, no doubt -- his gun still held outward, and Eggsy eliminated him with deadly precision. Ivanov was nowhere to be seen.

Shit! She must have escaped with the crowd.

Eggsy looked to the display case to find the diamond safe behind glass. A small victory, then. Once he was sure there were no other threats, he scanned the room for y/n. She was standing eerily still at the wall across the room, her face pallid and confused. She brought a shaking hand to her ribs, and when she drew it back Eggsy saw it was bathed in blood.

No. No, no.

He saw her eyes slip shut, her head loll back.

Suddenly the distance between them felt like leagues. His thoughts focused solely on reaching her.

He bolted, catching her just before her head hit the hardwood floor.

Eggsy quickly reached for his glasses, sending a distress signal. “Merlin! Merlin, Lancelot’s been shot. Get the evac team here now!”

“I’m sending for them, Eggsy. Try to slow the bleeding, they’ll be there in five minutes!”

Y/n’s chest was already soaked with blood, her once green gown growing black as pitch. Eggsy gently laid her down and pressed his palms over the wound, trying not to think of what the pressure would undoubtedly do to her ribs.

Worry about that later. Keep her alive, that’s your only goal. Just keep her alive!

She groaned at the contact, unfocused eyes blearily darting around the room from behind heavy lids. Her brows furrowed from the pain.

“Egg..sy…w-what are you -- st-stop, please, it hurts….”

Eggsy drew in a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry, love, but I have to stop the bleeding.”

She whimpered.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n.”

Eggsy fought the urge to vomit when her blood began to seep through his fingers. This was a fear he’d never felt before. Primal, consuming, cold.

Keep her awake. Talk to her. Just keep her alive!

“You’re gonna be alright, love.” he cooed. “Merlin will get the evac team here in no time, yeah? Just hold on a little bit longer.”

A wet cough answered him, specks of crimson falling around her mouth.

Fuck. Fuck!

Eggsy was shaking now, the thought of losing her terrifying him.

He pressed harder on the wound. “Merlin, I think her lung’s been punctured. Where’s the fucking evac team?!”

“They’re on their way, Eggsy! Just hang in there as long as you can, they’re almost there!” Merlin’s voice pierced through the radio static, its tremor poorly hidden.

Eggsy turned back to y/n, his reassuring smile not meeting his tearful eyes. “You hear that, love? The evac team is almost here. Stay with me, y/n.”

Just keep her alive. Just keep her alive!

The sting of panic consumed him when he saw her eyes had glossed over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This was one of my favorite parts to write. I hope you all enjoyed it, and keep an eye out for the next one!

#eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin #eggsy imagine #Kingsman #kingsman imagine #merlin #galahad #lancelot

[loudsuitlover]

Do harry and indie ever take their kids to work? Maybe when it’s just Dylan? I’m so curious About them with Dylan! Especially as he’s such a mommas boy, if you have time would you be willing to write more with indie and Dylan interacting please? Thank you for writing and sharing 😊

Oh, you bet she did. She was on maternity leave first but then she asked for a leave of absence after interviewing twenty-five nannies and turning them all down. 

Harry got home and he was already smirking. She had been bitting her nails thinking of a way to tell him she hadn’t yet found a nanny because she didn’t want to sound too picky or too overly protective- even though she was probably both- and she didn’t really know Harry couldn’t care less. But she thought- well, I am a doctor as well, I have the exact same obligation he has to provide for this family, I can’t expect him to just be okay with me deliberatedly not making any money for us. But really- he was okay with her staying home to take care of the baby, just as much as he was okay with her going back to work. She hadn’t resented him for going back to work so why would he resent her? He had the exact same obligation she had to take care of the baby so he was okay with whatever she decided to do. But she was nervous and he could tease her for that so he would not let the opportunity pass. 

“Hi, baby” He pecked her lips “what was wrong with these four?” He smirked. 

She raised her eyebrows and pointed a finger at him while he picked Dylan up from his high chair and kissed his cheeks and his head and every inch of skin he could get his lips on. 

“Do not make fun of me for this, Styles. It is damn hard to find a nanny! One of them asked me what Tylenol was!” 

He smirked. 

“Are you making nanny questions or doctor questions?” 

“You’re a j-e-r-k.” 

“Okay so candidate for the nanny position number 1 was disqualified for not knowing about Tylenol. What about number 2?”

“La número 2 no ha mirado a Dylan en ningún momento.” (Number 2 didn’t even look at Dylan once.) 

Harry nodded. 

“Number 2 was disqualified for not showing interest in the goal of the position she aspires to. Number 3?”

“Number 3 didn’t have the required hygienic minimuns to care for a baby.” She admitted in a rush. “And listen I’m not being judgy, we’re just talking about a baby! They have a physiological immunodeficient condition, they need hygiene at a maximum it’s not-”

“I know! Baby, I know. I understand. You’re not being judgy, come on. Number 3 was disqualified for not meeting the minimum hygiene wise.” 

“And number 4 was just too young.” 

Harry smirked. 

“What?” 

Dylan tried to reach with his tiny hand to his mum and she picked him up from his Daddy’s embrace before she slipped her sleeve down her shoulder so he could nurse her breast milk. 

“Nothing.” He chuckled as he scratched the back of his ear but she gave him a look so he smirked again. “It’s just... Is it possible that you’re turning everybody down because you’re not ready to leave Dylan with anyone that’s not us?” 

Her eyes set on their baby and that was all the confirmation he needed. He chuckled so she frowned. Did he not mind? And then his hand was on her bare shoulder until she looked up at him. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go back to the hospital just yet, you know?” His green eyes investigated her, trying to read her. “He’s very little, I understand.” 

“But my maternity leave ends in a week.” 

“You could ask for a leave of absence? That’s if you want. I’m okay with you going back to work and I’m okay with you staying home to take care of the baby. Both options are fine by me, love.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, of course! You thought I wouldn’t want you to stay home or to go back to the hospital?” 

“I thought... I guess I thought, you know, that you might think... I mean if I take a leave of absence you’d have to provide for me too.” 

“And you think I have a problem with that?” He frowned. 

She shrugged. 

“Hey, I married you, didn’t I? That means we’re a team, love. You and me and now Dylan too.” He smirked. “We’re a team. I have a family thanks to you and somebody has to look after the baby and somebody has to work. It is what it is. Plus, I wouldn’t be providing for you. You would be taking care of my child so it’s only fair.” 

“¿No te importa de verdad?” (Do you really not mind?)

“No me importa de verdad.” He smirked. 

“Jope, te quiero.” (Geez, I love you.)

“Y yo a ti.” (I love you too.) 

So she did decide to stay home but even then, sometimes there was a case at the hospital that made Danny or Charlie think of her and as much as she loved her baby, she kind of missed work too. She worried a little too, that if she stopped operating altogether her career might suffer, but family came first she thought. 

Yet this one time... It was a baby and she would have been the head of Neo surgery had she been at the hospital for her mentor just stepped down and the chief had still not fill that spot but she was at home. With her baby. On a leave of absence. Yet... This was somebody else’s baby... And wouldn’t she like to have the best for her baby if he ever needed a surgery? And why did her baby had the right to live and this one didn’t? And most importantly, who was she to just stay home and not do everything that was on her hand to help this baby? 

So she went to the hospital and she brought Dylan along. Harry was working too so there was nobody to look after him on such short notice. She could ask somebody at Neo to keep an eye on him. He was a healthy baby, anyway, a lot easier than anything they did on a daily basis... 

So she got there and all her female co-workers cooed over baby Dylan with baby hands and baby curls and everyone said how much he looked like her and he would smile at everyone because he was such a people pleaser, really. And Blue would listen to her colleague tell her about the case with her baby still on the kangaroo bag near her heart. 

“Blue?” Harry frowned as he walked down the hall. “What are you doing here? Dy? Did you bring the baby to the hospital?” 

“I need to do a surgery.” 

“What do you mean you need to do a surgery? You’re on leave of absence.”

“I know but there’s this baby. His heart is out of his chest, love, I need to get it inside. Danny’s never done it before. I’ve assited doctor Lorke a couple of times before. I need to- He’s somebody else’s Dylan.” 

He nodded. 

“What are we gonna do with this little guy, though? I have a surgery too, I can’t-”

“I’ll take him!” 

One of Harry’s inters raised her hand and voluntereed and Blue’s eyes searched for her husband’s before he nodded. 

“Have you ever looked after a baby before, doctor...?” She still asked. 

“Irwing.” She smiled. “I have a younger daughter, doctor Anderson. I looked after her when she was a baby all the time. Does he drink formula or breast milk?” 

“Breast milk. It’s on his bag.” Blue started walking towards the operating room as she kept almost yelling instructions to doctor Irwing. “If you lay him on his side and coo him he usually shushes when he’s crying and-”

“I’ll let her know the rest, baby!” Harry called. “Go fix that baby’s heart! And don’t worry, doctor Irwing’s mark for the week depends on this.” 

Doctor Irwing’s eyes widened. 

[chyrstis]

WIP Wednesday/Thursday

Okay, let’s do this. A day late, but still close enough, right?

@raisinghellinotherworlds​ @shallow-gravy @painterofhorizons (I’ll totally take your tag ;) ) and @fadedjacket​ were all kind enough to tag me (and to those that tagged me before, you’re all just as wonderful, I’m just horrifically late!), and I think I’ve fussed at these current ones enough to be able to live them with, darn it. Well, for the most part.

Tagging: @sharky-broshaw @amistrio @tommymillers @softmillers @foofygoldfish @redroci @jackalopestride @geronimo-11 @finefeatheredgamer @shellibisshe @sneaky-apostate @scarlettkat86 @hawkfurze @shelliechen @fromathelastoveritaserum @unclefungusthegoat @ofravensandgenesis @risenlucifer @tomexraider @strafethesesinners and anyone else that’s interested! There’s never an obligation intended with these tags, though, so no pressure either. <3

A small bit from the start of the 'Let’s Trap John’ fic, because the actual beginning of this I’ve been dragging my feet on, and finally managed to jot something down for it.

---

Hana had this down. Knew their goal, knew the car she was driving well enough to trust it - and knew the following stretch of road almost inside and out by this point of time.

But that didn’t stop any of her nerves from sinking their claws in deep.  Flexing her fingers, she clamped them down tight on the steering wheel as she puffed away at the cigarette in her mouth. Two stubs were already sitting in the car’s ashtray, and at this rate, she’d have to put out another, because nothing official had come through yet.

She adjusted the mirror above her, and jumped when she caught Grace eyeing her.

“Better?”

Grace watched her fiddle with it further, and sadly each move continued to adjust it well past the point where it felt right to be.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

---

I might also be trying to get back into some Sharky/Hana/John fic because I miss them terribly, and picked up an idea I started a few months back. Just a moment together in the future, but before the first fic in the series where they’re taking things a little slower and playing the get-to-know-you game. 

---

“You see, there’s no shortage of books here. Fiction or non-fiction, you’re welcome to pick your poison from a variety of topics. History, science, technical manuals, autobiographies, recipe books-“

“Romance?”

“Romance, even. Some of it quite lurid,” John replied, his mouth twisting.

“Ooh, that bad, huh?” That had her biting down on a snicker. “That’s what you get for digging into anyone’s personal stash and choosing to take it. You’re not getting much pity from me here.”

“Well, I’m going to be merciful for once and not quote any of the passages I happen to remember. Almost word-for-word, detailed descriptions of acts that would be humanly impossible to pull off without spraining or breaking something.”

“I bet,” Hana said, and was tempted to make him spill it anyway. Just to see how he’d handle it. If he’d be able to keep that calm and cool expression in place all while saying things he’d probably get slapped for.

Yeah, she was tempted for sure, and the challenge she caught in him didn’t help any at all.

“…But I digress. Our focus centered on what was needed to survive, ensuring that those supplies came first and foremost. Clothes, food, tools, and the like.“ John paused, and Hana raised an eyebrow. “However, I made an allowance for added books as well.”

“For more than what was needed?” John didn’t reply, and that put the start of a smile on her face. “Didn’t think I’d ever peg that as a soft spot for you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked earnestly. “There’s much to gain, and as I mentioned before, there’s a variety of things to read about. To enrich yourself with.”

That got him an eye roll, but John didn’t bristle at it. Just kept on aiming a look at her that she couldn’t put a name to yet.

Walking side-by-side with him down the hall, he could’ve easily outpaced her, but slowed his steps. Made an effort to make sure she was right there with him, slowing down whenever she did, and speeding up if she had a mind to.

Right now, however, she was content to keep at the pace they had set. Slow and easy, their steps almost in time with one another.

“So, Deputy,” he began, curiosity now coming through clear as day, “do you read?”

---

And finally, more from the No Cult AU, but this time Sharky’s getting a chance to chat with ol’ Joe. And boy, do I need more practice writing him.

---

“Need me anywhere else here, Broseph? ‘Cause I’m free, and-”

Joseph’s eyebrows rose above his sunglasses, and Sharky caught the slip a beat too late.

“Er, uh, shit-um. Sorry. Father, Pastor, Preacher…any of that about right?”

The quick correction didn’t put him off, however. Instead, Joseph chuckled to himself softly. “Joseph. You can call me Joseph.”

That was easy. A little too easy, but Sharky breathed a sigh of relief, because the last thing he needed was to run down the list of titles every time he’d make a trip out, and to somehow manage to piss him off. He’d done okay so far, but

“Uh, cool. And you can call me Sharky. Everybody else pretty much does, short of John, and that’s just gonna be his thing, I guess.”

“…Sharky.” It was weird as hell hearing from him, but after he nodded, Joseph set a hand on his shoulder. “All right. Come this way.”

It was interesting being walked around like this. Having the chance to see all of it up close for the first time, without being rushed back and forth from truck to truck, because Sharky had never really looked before. He’d peeked, sure, but it was all about what John wanted him to do. Where he was being directed and pointed, all while hoping to get in and out as quick as he could.

Now, he’d made the choice all on his own to come here, and like it or not, curiosity was having a fucking field day with him the more he was able to see.

He’d been right about things being low-key, though. Short of him timing this all wrong to miss any wild parties, or the odd orgy night, he wasn’t going to find anything strange here, and a part of him was starting to be okay with that.

#wip #the first I just tore apart to fix here #and the others I'm going to slap my own hand at b/c apparently wip = perfectly polished product

[marvinswriting]

Northshore's couples, written by anonymous, about anonymous.

a crack idea bear and I had that I took seriously

g/t mean girls

November, 12th

Ifykyk.

Hey, Northshore! Welcome to a new section of the school newspaper. I've been fighting for a gossip blog for a hot minute now, and since the paper is dying down, Northshore is finally allowing it. 

But this isn't just any gossip blog.

This is the place where I'm gonna -try- to answer your most burning questions about Northshore couples in question.

All through anonymity and observation.

To start, let's meet the students. All names have been changed so identities can stay hidden. In the tinies we've got: J, A, and R. Then in the giants there is: D, C, G, K, and S.

Who's with who? Who hates who? Who's got some secrets under the surface? Come back next week.

"Full offense to Northshore, this sounds stupid as fuck." Janis huffed, tossing down the newspaper, letting it fall to the table. 

Karen looked at the small girl of Damian's shoulder.

"Why do you think?"

"Gossip blogs are unoriginal and boring. The school newspaper is grasping at straws."

"They can be fun when done right." Regina points out. "I say we check in next week and find out more about the students it's about."

"Whats-" Cady frowned. "What's a gossip blog?"

"Aww, baby's first gossip blog! We have to keep up with this one. Just for Cady." Damian said.

Karen watched with amusement as her friends discussed gossip blogs and if they were any good.

This will be fun. 

November 19th

Love the feedback from last week guys! You're all as hyped as I am. And no. I won't confirm who your suspicions are. Stop slipping notes under the computer lab door.

This week J and D were seen together. (It's not uncommon.) 

A was seen kissing C when they thought nobody was looking. But don't be fooled, somebody is always looking.

Not to be creepy or anything.

Just- we saw that, A. 

You won't spot R without K or G anywhere near them, don't know if any of them are dating though.

Development into J and D's relationship as D is seen defending J from S. Sources couldn't hear what they were saying but it sounded pretty hostile. Is it just caring friends or something a little more? 

This blog is focused around uncovering Northshore's couples once and for all. Have any tips? There's been a box placed by the computer lab door. Got any other people you want to see covered? Let me know!

Until next week, the anon who writes about anons. Xx!

"So," Cady looked down at her newspaper. "A gossip blog, is just talking about people?"

"Hence, the gossip part." Janis folder her own tiny newspaper, tossing it onto the cafeteria table from Damian's pocket. "And it's stupid."

"I wonder who it's about?" Gretchen said. "I know everything about everybody. But all this info? This is news to me."

"It's obviously about-" Karen paused. Was she the only one to figure it out?

Wasn't she the dumb one?

"Never mind. I dunno who it's about either."

"I don't understand why you care so much." Janis huffed.

"Because its fun to be nosey about lives that aren't ours. Duh." Regina said.

November, 26th

Happy Friday, Northshore!

Wow, lots of you sent in info about J and D. Whether you've cracked the code on who they are or maybe you're just observant of two fellow students- there is no denying they're pretty affectionate.

Since we're on the topic, let's start with J and D.

Kisses. Lots of them.

Romantic, or just friends? The duo themselves give pretty mixed answers so we must take matters into our own hands and draw our own conclusions. J was seen skipping class on multiple occasions and hiding with D. I hope J has a good tutor. I could never miss that much info.

R and G are seen together. K seems like they're third-wheeling. Somebody get them out of there. K, if you need a sos, slip a note in the box bby. We've got you.

If you want to talk about PDA, look no further than A and C. Wow! A hello kiss, a kiss kiss, a GOODBYE KISS? They may not say it themselves but those two are definitely a fairytale couple.

No updates to S. #singleforlife.

Sorry, S. If you're reading this.

"Well, A and C just sound gross." Janis frowns.

"Don't be negative, Jan." Damian shakes his head at the girl on the table. "They sound cute."

"Overly cute." Cady says.

"I'm glad somebody agrees." Janis huffed.

"Poor K. Thridwheeling a couple is awful." Gretchen sympathizes.

"We don't know if R and G are dating." Aaron points out. "We don't know if any of these people are dating. I'm kinda hooked."

"Well, third-wheeling best friends is even worse." Cady sighs, glancing at Damian and Janis. 

Karen looked at the newspaper in her hands with a soft smile. She had a note to drop off.

December 3rd

Happppppy Friday! I have a big announcement right off the bat!

It is I, the writer, formally known as Anon. But now there's two of us! Me, the writer, and another student- the spy. Between the two of us (and your help from the box!) we're gonna crack these relationships open in no time!

This week's rundown!

R was with G the whole week. There was not one time they were separated. 

A, J, and R were seen in the tiny halls together where  A was overheard talking fondly about C.

Is there a fight for J?

D and S seem to never want to leave J alone.

Although, if you asked the writer, I'm totally team JD. Message for S? This isn't middle school anymore. Being mean to somebody isn't a good way to show your emotions. Message for D? You're doing fabulous, I'm rooting for you. Message for J? Pick fucking wisely. 

I'm a bit biased but my info is not. 

Don't you worry.

Until next week, you know where the box is! Xx.

"Aw, J and D sound like a cute couple." Regina cooes.

"A and C don't." Janis shook her head. "To sappy."

"Is Jan warming up to the gossip blog? And forming opinions?" Damian teased.

Karen shook her head in disbelief. The fact that her friends were yet to catch on-

-they were dense. Not idiots, just dense.

"S sounds like an asshole." Gretchen shook her head. "Bet its a boy. Yknow when a boy would pull your hair in elementary school and you'd get told, oh boys will be boys. He just likes you! Yeah. S is a dude for sure."

"Not every boy was like that. I wasn't." Damian said.

"You're gay." Janis rolled her eyes. 

December 10th

Heyo Northshore! It's the writer. Might I say, you look wonderful today? 

I don't see you but I'm sure you're just stunning.

A must be p r e t t y stupid because they were seen all this week studying with C. A kiss for every problem right? Hey, it's not a bad deal.

R was seen primarily with K this week, throwing off all previous theories.

Must have been a rough week for J. I'd imagine you've got to be stressed as hell to just break down randomly but guess what- they did. Lack of sleep? Hunger? S? Who knows what the culprit was.

But don't you worry, D was quick to whisk them off to someplace quiet.

Love to see it, I want a significant other like that.

The day they confirm their relationship is the day I expect a wedding invite.

See you next week! Xx.

"Wow! Looks like Jan isn't the only one in Northshore who needs to learn when to take a break before the break takes them." Damian deadpanned, lowing his newspaper.

Karen blinked. Are you kidding me?

"I was just tired." Janis huffed. "I needed a nap."

"I dunno man. A and C sound cheesy as fuck." Gretchen shook her head.

"They do. Now J and D though? That couple goals." Janis said.

Karen's hand shot to her mouth as she covered a laugh with a forced cough. "Couple? You think they're together?"

"For sure. They sound made to be!"

Oh dear.

December 17th

Winter break next week! Who's excited? We get full two weeks off this year and I'm so ready for a break.

I'll miss our resident couples in question though.

Not to throw everyone off but-

J spent the week with G. R spent the week with C. And A was with D?

Now granted by the time you're reading this print, this is two-week-old information- but why?

Did you get bored and just s w a p?

Anyway, I guess S wanted into the mix too? Because they took advantage of no D to try and get to J. It didn't work. G was there to protect our favorite JD ship. I'm not saying they're a cockblocker bc I don't wanna imply anything, but S is d e f i n it l y trying to get something out of J. Motive unclear but hey, we can assume :/

Gross.

Anyway, there were multiple fights that broke out that day so idk what yall were on but jesus christ calm down. Not relationship-related but be fucking nice to tineis.

Ugh.

K had no part in this swap of s/o but hey, they weren't third-wheeling anymore. 

Xx!

"Be fucking nice to tinies!" Regina cheers.

"J and G?" Janis frowned at the tiny newspaper in her hands. "Sorry, only know about J and D."

"Janis went from, ew gossip, to I'd die to have JD confirmed, real fast." Aaron pointed out.

"As she should." Gretchen pointed out. "They sound cute as fuck.

"Hands down they're lesbians." Regina said.

Karen shook her head, totally dumbfounded.

January, 7th

Did you miss me! I missed you. Mwah.

Right off the bat-

Uh. The box has been filled with messages from S saying, they do not like J. 

So I guess they're just an asshole.

Hey, just means team JD is gonna win.

Speaking of-

When J was asked directly they said that, I quote "D is the love of my life." But when asking D, I was told: "[J is] just a good friend". Sort your story idiots. The school wants to know!

While S may be out of the running, many sources say JC is a rising ship? Between A and C and J and C, I can't help but wonder, is there a behind the scenes JCA?

Fellow tiny students report A and J not being very close in the tiny hallways though. Now J and R tho-

J is just one lucky mate.

Who's your favorite? Let me know in the box! Xx.

"J and D." Janis says from her perch on Damian's shoulder. 

Karen just looked at her phone.

"You think there's a threesome going on in school?" Gretchen asked.

"Unlikely. I don't even this A and C sound cute. Why add another." Aaron rolled his eyes.

You don't think-

Karen sighed.

She really should tell them but- it was so much funnier this was.

Janis stood up on Damian's shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw without motive. 

Karen turned back to her phone, unsurprised if that would pop up in next week's article. 

January 14th

I love you- signed the writer.

Glad we got that out of the way.

NOW.

This was quite the week for our "couples".

First off, D and J? PDA through the roof.

Idk, maybe it's a special week, or maybe we're paying more attention and they've always been like that.

Those tiny kisses aren't lost on me, J. I see all.

Ugh, so cute.

A and C are-

"Skip this passage," Janis whined. "Nobody cares about them."

Everyone around the lunch table nodded as Karen began to read out loud again.

G kissed R?! R might have given a scowl but bystanders didn't miss the blush. Platonic or something more? That's the big question of this article but hey- this is a big step for all you GR shippers. Sorry to whoever wrote that long letter in the box passionately explaining how JR was peak friends to enemies to lovers. 

Shame.

#JD, anyway, you know where the box is! Xx.

"Fuck A and C. All my homies hate A and C." Janis grinned.

Cady nodded. "They're too cliche. It's annoying and I don't even know who they are."

Karen placed her head on the table with a groan.

She may not be smart, but these people were flat out idiots.

She felt a tug on her hair and looked up, resting her chin on the table.

"You okay, Karen?" Janis stood in front of her, Newspaper held at her side.

"Yeah, just dying on the inside a bit. Yknow, leaf emoji."

Janis made a face. "I don't but uh-" She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Karen's nose. "Don't leaf emoji. We like you here, alive on the inside."

Karen smiles. "Thanks, Janis." 

January 21st

Just when you think it's all figured out- J kisses K. 

In front of D.

At this point- they're all together. One big happy family. 

I'm still clinging onto my JD dream. 

Speaking off-

S is back. Did you miss them? Me neither.

They just grabbed J like nothing? Anyway, D was there to save the day obviously.

Our great big hero got a pretty precious nose kiss from J.  

I could make their own newspaper section about how cute they are. There is no way you can be that cute and n o t already engaged.

On another J note, if JD doesn't happen, I'd be pretty content with some CJ. C was seen giving J "a nice-sized smooch" (somebody from the box).

No development in the R and G category, just their usual cuteness.

Leave any tips in the box! You know where it is. Xx.

"Uh uh. JD over CJ." Janis shook her head.

Karen just placed the newspaper in her bag. Janis and Damian were quick to become J and D's biggest shippers. They were so good at confusing the school about their relationship status that they had themselves fooled.

Cady and Aaron, who were dating and just won't confirm it, hated C and A's relationship. Calling it cheesy and artificially sweet.

And Regina though R sounded like a bitch and G deserved somebody better.

The whole thing was just crazy. 

"I gotta go talk to a teacher this period. It was fun reading the paper together though." Karen said getting up.

There was a chorus of 'bye Karen's as she walked away.

The newspaper holder in the hallways was empty. Northshore's 'couples' was quick to catch on and save the newspaper program. 

Karen pushed the door open to the computer lab, making her way over to the tiny end.

"Hey, Glen."

Glen Coco looked up at her with a grin. "Got anything for me, spy?"

@realmisspolarbear @smallsoysauce @musicallygt

#this was fun to write #g/t #g/t mean girls #Giant/tiny #g/t writing #tiny janis #tiny regina #tiny aaron #giant damian #giant gretchen #giant cady #giant karen #tiny glen

[stevie-writes-the-pain-away]

Alcoholics Anonymous - Chapter Nine

        "Hey."

        I turned my head and saw Murdoc standing a few metres away, his chiselled features still striking from where he stood. I felt as though Murdoc was either always predictable in the strangest of ways or he was a complete stranger, and there was no in between. Even if I just met him. The air surrounding him usually felt perfectly quintessential as Murdoc was of himself, except he wasn't the same Murdoc I came to know. I felt exactly where I needed to be - or should've been - but he seemed nervous, not wanting to come any closer. I sighed and greeted him with a smile, "Hey." I nudged my head to the side, gesturing him to join me under the roof of the entrance.

        He ambled over as a cautious stallion would then pursed his lips like he was lost in thought. It took him a while to say anything, but eventually he took a deep breath in and out, turning my way. "(Y/N) . . ." I looked back at him. "About what happened the other day . . . I-I didn't mean to force myself on you."

        I widened my eyes, caught of guard and almost nonplussed. He certainly didn't force himself on me. Sure, the kiss was unexpected, but I let him crawl on top of me with open arms. I acknowledged the idea of silence not equalling "Yes", which I totally understood, but I think kissing him back with fiery passion was my own way of playing into his affection. Or lust. Now I wasn't so sure I knew what I was getting myself into . . . What was his goal that night? Suddenly there were too many questions.

        "No, no, Murdoc, you didn't at all." I hesitated to continue in case I wore out the assurance to a questionable degree, but laughed a little. "I . . . actually enjoyed our time together . . . a lot."

        Murdoc looked at me with doubtful, departed eyes, clearly just as surprised as me. "But I was also kind of an asshole," he claimed. "Not only was I withdrawing like a child does 'cause we were interrupted but I couldn't even offer to take you home." It meant a lot how much he cared and I would've never expected him to be that type of man, not that that's what was bewildering. If he was insecure about being intimidating in any way, I would've expected him to take an accepted apology with ease.

        "Don't worry about it, Muds, I took the bus," I smiled. "That's one less car to pollute the earth," I chuckled to lighten him up.

        "Are you sure?"

        "Positive," I pressed. Our gazes fell into each other like two deep pools of realization. I felt him inch closer with eased in comfort and I recognized that adorable, authentic smile I always dreamed about slipping back onto his face. I love that smile. I would walk into a million busy London, England thoroughfares to make sure it stayed there.

        "Well, I guess . . ." he turned back to face onward with aplomb. "On account that I didn't scare you off or anything . . . You're always welcome to my humble abode. And if you need anybody to talk to, I'm just a text away."

        I smiled to him, wishing his hands were out of the pockets of his jacket. That way, I could possibly shuffle closer, I could possibly hold one. Or maybe we could hold more than just our hands if Murdoc really felt something between us. "You're always welcome to my home, as well . . ." I paused. "Which, I just realized now, you've never been to."

        Murdoc smirked with perked up keenness, "Oh, right." We both eyed each other with the same idea. "And you've still got some of your music to show me, too."

        I felt my smile grow. "When are you free next?"

        The weekend came faster than expected. My exhilaration for the future certainly helped the boring, drawn-out days sweep by with ease. Cassidy had left with her friends again and wouldn't be back until late in the morning, I assumed, so it would just be me and Murdoc alone. Me and Murdoc alone. Was I possibly too excited for him coming over? Maybe. Was I probably holding my breath? You bet. Either way, I unnecessarily prepared myself for anything and everything.

        I'd told Murdoc my address after our last session, and when I heard him knock on the door I knew it couldn't have been anybody else. Placing my phone down and taking one last glance at my now clean apartment, I made my way to the door. Sure enough, when I opened it, I saw the handsome bloke carrying a small, warm smile on his face, "Good evening."

        "Hello there," I greeted with nod. It was showering that day and I noticed his choice of clothing; a more comfortable turtleneck sweater, with an oversized leather jacket and simple jeans all drenched from the rain. He kept his classic Cuban heels on though, and I let him in immediately.

        As I closed the door I watched him look around, realizing that in the light of my living room lamps his hair wasn't greasy as usual. It's not as if I cared about his hygiene considering I didn't even know how to take care of my own, but when he walked by he smelled quite nice. Stuff like that didn't typically stand out when Murdoc and I crossed paths but I guess something about that day encouraged him to step it up a little. "Nice place," he huffed.

        "I'm not gonna lie, it's usually a pigsty, but I figured cleaning for once wouldn't hurt."

        "For once or for me?" he smirked, and my face heated up.

        "Well, I've gotta make sure my guests feel special," I grinned. I didn't know what to expect of the rest of the evening but part of me was a tad more nervous than I thought I'd be. "Want a little tour?"

        "That'd be great," he agreed. Being an apartment, there wasn't much to show. The living room had a barely stocked shelf, coffee table, a single three-person couch and T.V set up on an end table on the opposite wall. Then, on the other side of the doorway, was a two-person dining table with only one chair, an empty kitchen and trash bin. The washroom wasn't anything special, nor was the laundry closet, but I saw Murdoc's interest gravitate towards my bedroom more and more. When I opened the door he smiled at the boredom of my tedious nest; a mattress, small bedside table, laundry basket, and an old, broken dresser drawer.

        "There's nothing really here, as you can see, but it's where I spend an unhealthy amount of my free time anyway," I nervously laughed. I invited him inside and he took a look around, admiring my belongings.

        I watched as he chuckled, "Did you just move in or something?"

        I laughed in return and shook my head, slightly humiliated. "Nah, I just never found the time to decorate or anything. I'd prefer to waste my money on that after the essentials."

        "Well, you should treat yourself sometime. Or at least draw a doodle every now and then and hang 'em up." Murdoc turned back to me, his head pulled into another wave of interest. "Where's all your music? Perhaps you could hang those up instead and give the room a little creativity."

        I blinked, looking around as I pictured the idea in my head. How could I have not thought of that before? "They're over here," I pointed to one of my dresser drawers. I didn't have enough clothes to fit every cubby, so I simply filled one up with my writing and a few sentimental belongings. I pulled the top drawer open and picked up a few sheets, scanning through them to make sure they weren't any of my intolerable pieces.

        I was never sure how to feel about my music. I was no critic, so I just kept writing and improving until I was satisfied, but I never had the confidence in myself to think they were good enough to be shared. And there I was, showing off my work to a professional producer from a music industry who did this shit for a living. It was at that moment of comprehension I completely regretted telling him about my hobbies.

        Murdoc took the paper from my hands, reading them over as he made himself comfortable on my mattress. I bit my lip, anxiously yearning for his reaction, but the more he read, the deeper he seemed to have dove into my work. I watched his eyes wander the paper with furrowed brows and wondered whether it was a fortunate or more unfortunate sign. "(Y/N) . . . You wrote this?"

        "Y-yeah. I . . . Is it bad?" I felt my gasp hitch.

        Murdoc shuffled in his spot and sat up straighter, re-reading the pages he held. "(Y/N), this is really good," he said, clearly as amazed as expressed. I felt a sigh of relief lift the heavy buckets of suspense from my chest and escape through my lips, walking over to sit beside him.

        "You really think so?"

        "Of course!" he exclaimed. He nudged me with his shoulder, an unexpected sign of validation towards my creation. I smiled so wide I must've looked stupid. I understood my happiness but couldn't perceive why Murdoc appreciating my music made me feel as giddy as it did; more than it would from the approval of others, I mean. Then again, he worked with music everyday, but he was also the only man that I deeply cared about at that point. No wonder I wanted a pat on the back from him so much. "Got a name for it yet?" Murdoc asked.

        "Nah . . . It's not like anybody else is gonna see it anyway," I faintly laughed.

        "We'll see about that," Murdoc chuckled.

        "W-what do you mean?"

        "Well, with work like this, there isn't one producer I know that wouldn't dive headfirst into signing you off," he said.

        I held my breath. I wasn't expecting Murdoc to absolutely abhor my writing, but his reaction felt almost too good to be true. "I-I don't know about that . . ." I replied under my breath. Murdoc looked at me as if I was just trying to be modest.

        "Well, if you're so unsure, you weren't wrong. I am a producer, so I might just steal this myself and release it with my name on it," he joked.

        I laughed, shaking my head. "Thanks for behaving so merciful towards my musical complaints."

        "Complaints?" Murdoc questioned. "These are more than just complaints," he commented with an insulted tone. "This is fucking art, (Y/N)! What's this one about?"

        I looked down to the ripped piece of crinkled paper, then back up to him, our faces only inches apart. "Um . . . Money, I guess you could say. I-I mean, it's more about how a lot of people would prefer money over other things? Especially how some people would rather waste their time and lives for money instead of appreciating what they already have."

        Murdoc's eyes grew soft and he hummed a low, gravely noise I'd remember him creating before; a sort of trademarked quirk of his. I hoped it wasn't a sort of scowl or laughter towards me and my stupid stuttering. "Nervous?" he asked.         I felt myself lean in close, and it looked as if he might've been as well. "N-no," I whispered. "Just flattered."

        "Well, I think it's endearing," he said. Our noses were nearly touching and I felt tempted to lean in for a kiss, and I think he felt the same way as well.

        Murdoc's smirk remained and we sat quiet, our lips seconds away from colliding before there was an echoed knock at the front door. Startled, I backed up, looking up to my bedroom door. I saw Murdoc's irritated expression bubble to the surface, gritting his teeth as he turned to the door as well. I could tell he took his No Turn-offs policy very seriously. "I-I'm gonna go get that," I said.

        I rose from my spot, reaching for the door handle. "I'll be waiting," Murdoc growled from behind me. I glanced behind my shoulder to see his tongue crawling out through his mischievous grin. His lustful expression, as well as his tongue sliding out between his lips and unrolling like salmon-colour silk was both interesting and arousing. I smirked back, reluctantly leaving the room and heading down the hall.

        I unlocked the front door and pulled it open to find Cockblocker Cassidy on the other side. She smiled at me, rushing past me and into the living room. "Change of plans!" she exclaimed.

        How lovely, I thought. "I-is that so?" I smiled as sweetly as I could. I watched her hop onto the couch, picking up the remote for the T.V. "Don't you have your keys?"

        "I think I left them here by accident," she answered. "At least 'I hope'. I'd hate to lose them again. Remember when I lost them the first time you came out with us?" she laughed.

        "Yeah . . . Well, what are you doing here?"

        Cassidy turned to me with a cocked eyebrow, "This is my apartment too, isn't it?"

        "No, you're right," I corrected myself, "but what are the change of plans?"

        "What's this?" I heard from behind me.

        I straightened my back as I jumped in my spot and whipped my head around, startled. I smiled awkwardly at Murdoc as he walked down the hallway, inviting himself into our conversation. "U-um, Cass?" Cassidy nodded, placing her feet on the living room table and nestling herself into a comfortable position. Murdoc walked forward, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and Cassidy looked up, instantly alarmed and hopping to her feet like a nun watching a naughty movie. "This is my friend," I smiled.

        From the corner of my eye, I noticed Murdoc glancing back at me very briefly with a hint of dispirited confusion before smiling back at Cassidy. It hurt me the way he looked at me, but I wasn't sure what made him react so. The two walked closer to each other, their palms meeting in a swift handshake. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. . . . ?"

        "Niccals," Murdoc supplied. "Murdoc Niccals. And you're Cassidy?"

        "Cassidy Desdemona," she said.

        "(Y/N)'s told me a lot about you," Murdoc continued, and to my dismay, I nearly squeaked, gasping in shock. "All good things, I mean," he chuckled.

        "I should hope so," Cassidy mumbled, taking a glimpse of my suspicious, twisted grin. She ambled closer in my direction, "You never told me there was a man in your life," and she didn't even bother to whisper. Sometimes I felt like Cassidy's only purpose in my life was to torment me like a sister figure.

        "Cass, i-it's not like that-" I stuttered, before looking back at Murdoc. He looked at me, awaiting my answer with apprehension. "I mean . . . I-t's none of your business," I concluded as an attempt to be mature and straight to the point.

        Cassidy chuckled, shrugging and proceeding down the hall. "It was nice meeting you, Murdoc," she simpered over her shoulder before retiring for her bedroom.

        I sighed and wiped the sweat from my forehead, looking back at Murdoc who rested his hands on his hips. "What could be so important between us it's none of her business?" he teased. I smiled, feeling an urge from every atom of my being to lean in and taste his lips for real, but I felt paranoid knowing Cassidy was hanging around. I sighed with gloom, and Murdoc's smug look dissolved. "Is something wrong?"

        "No," answered under my breath. "I'm just . . . Cassidy might as well have eyes everywhere . . . She's the inquisitive type," I said.

        Murdoc mouthed an "Oh", looking away awkwardly and it was silent between us as I scratched my arm. "That's alright," he smiled, walking forward and raising his hand to meet my face, his thumb grazing my cheek. "It just means we'll be over at my place more often than yours," he said, coming closer and closer to my face.

        "I like your bedroom better anyway," I agreed, my fingers brushing his arm as I traced it over to his hand, holding it in my palm. He moved it back down to my shoulder and to my neck, his nails running through my hair as we moved closer. Our lips were about to meet before his hand left my shoulder, searching his back pocket and pulling out a small slip of paper in front of me. "What's this, you tease?" I light groaned with a smile.

        "A little something for your wall," he said, holding his hand in front of me. I looked down to see a silly sketch, reminding me of the first time he ever attempted a drawing for me. It honestly wasn't that bad of an okay hand symbol - I was impressed - but what I held up in front of me was a stealth attack of affection.

        It was a small drawing of two stick figures, one green-skinned with what I could only assume to be a bass guitar and the other with a microphone who's hair colour matched my own. I laughed, "Where'd this come from? I don't even remember the last time I ever sang."

        "Saw a pencil and sticky notes on the ground and thought I'd bless you with my talent," he said. "Pretty accurate for someone who drew from memory, huh?"

        "Oh, you know it," I smiled up at him, walking back to my room as he followed closely behind. I stuck the paper to the wall beside my bed so it could be the first thing I saw when I woke up every morning, and I smiled. I looked at it and smiled. I felt Murdoc's presence behind me, giving me a soft, fluffy feeling in my stomach I'd never felt before. It rose from my feet to my head and he got closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and letting me melt into his arms.

        I lifted my head from under his chin and turned around, and as soon as my eyes reached his face, our lips finally met. I felt my heart pounding in my throat and his delicate hands cradle me like a small house pet. I snaked my arms around his waist and pulled our chests together before our kiss broke. I couldn't help but giggle.

        "Do I amuse you?" he asked, and I looked up at his half-lidded, captivated eyes.

        "In a way," I admitted. "I'm just . . . I'm just happy."

        That single moment offered me more gaiety than I'd felt in years. However, no matter how euphoric he made me feel, Murdoc didn't really seem like the type to be willingly tied down by any serious relationship, did he? He was more of a smash and dash type of person, and he didn't hesitate to make this clear in therapy. I was partially convinced his admitted sex addiction wasn't still in broad action, but there had to be a reason he seemed to care so much about me. Hopefully he felt the same butterflies in his stomach as I felt in mine whenever I saw him. Besides, if Murdoc wanted to look like such a tough guy, surely he wouldn't want to act sweet in front of others very often . . . Maybe I was more special than I thought I was?

        "You alright, lass . . . ?"

        "Hmm?"

        "You spaced out a little, love." Murdoc smirked at me, and I blinked my foggy eyes away. In front of me stood a shimmering white cloud of blurry Murdoc's face and I hadn't noticed until I was too embarrassed to reverse the damage. "Undoubtedly another habit of yours?"

        I gave his face some personal space and backed up, sucking in a deep breath before shrugging. "You caught me," I sighed.

        "Well, if you're gonna get flustered over my devilish charms, maybe here isn't a good place," he said, looking back to my bedroom door.

        "You're probably right," I said, wondering if Cassidy could be listening into our conversation as we spoke. I was thinking irrationally, I know, but as much as I liked to think I knew her, we were still merely strangers who only went out partying a couple of times and got hammered at any attempt to familiarize each other.

        "Wanna go for a drive?" he offered, his smile wrapping me in a warm blanket.

        "Sure," I grinned. "I'd love that."

#gorillaz #murdoc niccals #murdoc x reader #Russel Hobbs #noodle #Damon Albarn #Jamie Hewlett #fanfiction #2-d #Stuart Pot #x reader #romance

[guillotinedangel]

Can I request a LotorxReader, fluff scenario where the reader is betrothed to lotor and she genuinely loves him but he thinks she's just using him for his status until she fought beside him during a battle and he saw how beautiful and how he was actually denying himself of liking her, please ? I know this is very detailed but I'm bad at writing and I love reading your stories ❤️

Hi sweetie! So, it was really fun to write this one because I personally love a good demonstration of how badass a character is, especially if their s/o is right there to be amazed by their skills hahaha anyway, the only thing I am not entirely sure is if I got the fluffy part right, but you can leave me another anon message with your opinion of it. This said, enjoy!~Chimera.

Ship: Lotor x fem!reader.Scene: Lotor doubts his fiancée real interests until she fights alongside him.Warnings: Mature language, violent scenes.Edited and corrected by: @portrait-ninja

“You havegot to be kidding.” Pidge snapped, “There’s no way I am helpingLotor become Emperor!”

Lotorraised an eyebrow in disbelief; looking away he tried not to show howhurt he was by the human girl’s words. He had helped the paladins and killedhis own father, Zarkon, freeing the universe from his reign; accomplishinga goal that legend said could only be achieved by Voltron. But nothing hadseemed to change; everybody kept looking at him like if he was only aminiature version of his father. Speaking to him with no respect and openlymanifesting their hatred for him. And what was worse, now nobody wanted to payhim back.

Standing byhis side, you frowned and crossed your arms over your chest, pissedby your best friend’s words. Pidge couldn’t be serious, after everything thatLotor had done!

“ForGod’s sake, Pidge, your father is safe and sound thanks to him.”

“Youthink I care? I am not helping him get on the throne.”

Youlooked around for support from anybody else but no one seemed ready to offerit.

“You’re allbeing so quiznaking selfish! Lotor helped us defeat our biggest enemy! It’sthanks to him that the universe is safe, you can’t deny it!”

“Y/N”Allura said, placing her hand in your shoulder. “You are not being objectivehere. You love him, you -”

Butyou didn’t let her finish. You shook free from her grip and took afew steps back, getting closer to Lotor.

“He’semperor of the Galra Empire. At least he has a kingdom to rule,unlike you.” You said bitterly to the princess.

Everyone fellsilent and Lotor looked at you knowing you had stepped over the line.He loved you and appreciated the support but still there wassomething he didn’t quite understand. Since he had defeated his father andasked you to marry him –which had happened pretty much all at once-you had been insanely obsessed with him claiming his right over the galranthrone. Almost to the point where Lotor was starting todoubt if you really loved him for who he was rather thanwhat hehad been born into. He hated himself for even thinking that butyour actions where starting to speak for themselves.

“It’sokay, Y/N, you can’t change their minds…” he said reaching out foryou, but the look in your eyes made him stop.

“Theyare your people, Lotor. You are the only legitimate heir. The throne is yourbirthright. If you don’t claim it someone else will, and if they arehostile to Voltron,we will be right back where we started. Can’t any of you seethat?”

Everyoneexchanged a meaningful look.

“Well,”Shiro began, “She kinda has a point there, better the devil you know…”

“No!”Pidge’s cheeks turned red out of pure anger, “We are not helping him!”

“Finethen!” you shouted, “I hope you don’t treat all your allies like this becausesoon enough you won’t have any!”

Youstormed out of the room with your words hanging in the air.

//

“Y/N”

Thefamiliar voice of the prince called to you from across thehall, but you kept walking; ignoring him. You were pissed with your friends fornot seeing sense, pissed with Lotor for letting the throne slip from betweenhis fingers.

Abreeze fluttered your hair and the tall body of your half-galranhalf-altean fiancée made you stop short. You loved how he towered above you andhow strong he was. The purplish color of his skin, the yellow of hisferal eyes, the ivory of his hair… but when it came to times like this it allmade him look pretty terrifying.

“What?”you hissed.

“Youcan’t keep doing this. I appreciate the support you provide, but if that isgoing to make you lose your friends or the trust they have placed inyou... You are a bigger part of team Voltron than I am. Becoming Emperor wouldmean you becoming Empress. Would they be okay with that?”

“Youthink I care?” your eyes sparkled with anger. Just as Lotor feared, you werewilling to risk everything for the throne but was it for him or forpower? “They don’t get it, fear is clouding their judgment, but I cansee.”

“Noyou can’t!” Lotor snapped. You frowned and took a little step back, “If fear iswhat clouds their minds then the promise of power is clouding yours!”

“Excuseme?”

“Yes,I’m not stupid, Y/N, I’m 10,000 years old, do you think a youngling likeyou can fool me? You have been obsessed with me taking the throne ever since Ikilled my father, ever since I proposed you.”

“Lotorwhat the hell are you saying?”

Fearstarted crawling up your chest, replacing the anger until it vanished completelyand only sole anguish took control of your heart. Was Lotor saying that he hasdoubts about your feelings for him? Was he for quiznaking real?

“WellI’m saying that our engagement is over and that I’m leaving this place. I don’twant to be around you anymore.”

“What?”the word came out of your lips, barely a whisper. Did he just end things betweenthe two of you?

Youopened your mouth to say something else, but the words died in yourthroat as emotions whirled in your chest. Maybe Pidge was rightall this time. You shouldn’t have put your trust Lotor. Hewasn’t capable of love. Your whole relationship had been an excuse for himto accomplish what he wanted and now that he had it… he was getting rid of thedead weight. Of you.

“I’msorry,” the prince said, trying to hold back tears. He never feltmore heartbroken in his whole life, not even when his father treatedhim like trash… no. You had been his pillar, his reason to keep fighting andnow… well. Now he had seen why he had built up those huge walls around hisheart in the first place.

And so,he left.

//

Ithad been weeks since Lotor had left the castle and went only god-knows-where.Since your fight you had barely left your room. Shiro was the only one you allowedto come and go, because he had tried to stand up for Lotor during thediscussion you had on the bridge. Everybody else tried to talk to you when theyfound out, but you didn’t allow them to come in. They were just feelingguilty about your breakup, nothing more. They didn’t care and youknew that. At some point,everyone felt better with the situation theway it was now with Lotor gone. Plus, you didn’t need Pidge or Alluratelling you that they had warned you about him.

“Youfeeling any better?” Shiro asked, entering the room with a hot plate ofsomething that didn’t look like the goo you usually ate. You immediately knewthat was probably Hunk trying to make you feel better indirectly.

“No.”you mumbled, turning around in bed to face the paladin, “How could I?”

Shirofrowned and left the plate on the empty desk. He took a seat on theedge of your bed.

“Youstill love each other and I bet that’s the reason why he did it.”

“Istill love him I’m sure of that but… He seemed to mean it.”

“Y/N,please. A few weeks ago you were standing up for him on the bridgeand he was trying to calm you down. Look, I may be inexperienced inthis field, but I’m not blind.”

“Well…”you took a deep breath “Now he’s gone so… There’s nothing leftfor me to do.”

“Maybethere is.” Shiro started playing with his fingers, nervous.

“Whatis it, Shirogane? Spit it out.”

Shiro fell silentfor a moment.

“Um,maybe you and I can take the Black Lion and go help him.”

“Withwhat? We don’t even know where he is…”

Shiroscratched his nape and you stood up in bed.

“Shiro.” Yousaid warningly.

“Okay,okay. He’s gone to claim the throne. The Galra are holdinga celebration ceremony and…”

“Andwe are still here!?” you snapped, jumping out of bed and running to yourwardrobe to get your armor, “Move your ass, Shirogane! They’re gonna cut himto pieces if he shows up alone and with no backup!”

//

Asthe Black Lion appeared in the sky all the Galra reunited for theKral Zera ceremony taking place turned around surprised, Lotor included,who had just arrived. His first thought was that the paladins haddecided to break their word and not let him take the throne. What hedidn’t expect was seeing you climb out of the lion, walking like youowned the place, with the black paladin at your back and in your full royalGarla armor.

Hehad given it to you saying “His Empress should have an armor worthyof her” and, even though you didn’t tower over the glara, Lotor could feelhow everyone exchanged concerned glances, While you were askilled warrior and an ally of Voltron everyone knew that messingwith you did not only guarantee your wrath, but Lotor’s as well.

“Whatare you doing here?” he asked, approaching you with a smile on his face. He hadto admit he had been feeling lost and lonely all these weeks,without your touch and that look in your eyes. He had been feelingempty without your smile and the scent of your hair.

“I’mtrying to save your ass, my prince.” you said, raising an eyebrow lecturinghim, “You are really brave coming here alone, but I thought you could use somehelp. Prince Lotor has the protection of Voltron” you continued, raising yourvoice so everybody could hear you, “if any of you dares to challenge him, theywill have to fight me as well and, if you come up victorious, the paladins willtake revenge. So, that said, does anyone want to stepforward? Does anybody want to lose their life to sit on a throne thatdoesn’t belong to them?”

As yourgaze roamed over the crowd, you were able to see Lotor’s former generals. Theirmurderous gazes where settled on you, but they didn’t dare say a word and evenless, confront any of you.

“Youheard my beloved princess, does anyone wish to challenge us?”

“Your beloved princess,as you call her, is not even galran, and neither are you.” A voice spoke fromthe crowd. The voice was revealed to belong to CommanderSendak, speaking with a repulsed look on his face, “So, as you are notworthy, I challenge you, but only you. I am not fighting that human scum.”

“Youscared?” you asked defiant, taking a step forward, but Lotor grabbed your armbefore you could say something else.

“IfI win, she will be the Galra’s future Empress therefore, I demand you takeback what you just said about her.”

Sendaklaughed and the weapon that replaced his lost arm, shone in a bright purplelight.

“Well,as you desire, prince. Your little bitch will die with you today.”

Ashe said that, his cybernetic arm was shooting right towards you, butLotor stopped it with his sword before it could reach you. Jumping towardsSendak he started a very heated fight between the two of them.

“Y/N!”Shiro called out to you. As you turned around, he threw his bayard at you,which, for some reason immediately shaped into a sword, “Use it well, and bringit back to me!”

Younodded and turned your face back to the fight, just in time to see Sendak throw apunch at Lotor, grazing less than an inch away from his face. Clenchingyour teeth with rage and remembering Sendak breaking into the castle andalmost killing all of you, you ran directly to him, tackling theGalra commander. He was at least two feet taller than you and you hit haddestabilized him, before he could regain his footing you swung your sword athim.

Theattack caught him by surprise and he was not able to get away in time. The edgeof the bayard scratched his face and down his armor, leaving an open andbleeding wound on one of his cheeks.

Lotorlooked at you wide eyed and the Garla watching the scene held theirbreath at the sight.

Didyou, a weak and tiny earthling, just managed to hurt one oftheir best commanders?

“Whowere you calling human scum, kitten?” you mocked him.

Sendakwiped the blood off his face and let out a warning growl. He had beenhumiliated by that quiznaking human bitch.

“Iam going to make myself new armor from your bones!” he screamed,charging back at you but, being smaller and lighter than him, it was easy foryou to use his huge body to avoid his attack successfully.

“You’re reallygonna need more than my bones for that.” You said playfully, swinging your sword,“I’m tiny compared to you.”

Withrage pounding through his veins, Sendak threw his hand at you, but Lotor got inthe way as he did before and repelled the attack.

“IfI were you,” he said panting, “I’d keep my mouth shut.”

“Oh,baby” Sendak moved again and you rolled down to one side as Lotor jumped to theother, avoiding being caught in the hole your foe just created in the groundwere you had stood, “You’re taking all the fun away!”

Yousmiled at each other and started attacking Sendak from different sides, drivinghim mad. You two were playing with him, in front of the Galra Empire.Even if he did manage to kill you in the end, the stories of this fightwouldn’t go away any time soon, and he was already starting to feel tired.He needed to put an end to this, now.

Avoidinganother of Lotor’s attacks, Sendak turned around to face you, and a wide smileappeared in his face, allowing you to see his fangs. All he had to do was takea good shot at you. Kill the prince’s lover. It would drive him mad, he wouldcommit a mistake and the throne was his. It was so simple.

“Tolove is to die, prince!” He said before charging towards you.

Thiswasn’t like the other times. He was starting to get a grip on your moves.He managed to graze you a few times, even though Lotor was trying tokeep him away from you, failing amazingly, to be honest. Sendak seemed reallyfocused on you and, as his attacks grew stronger and faster yourbody started to feel theeffects of the battle.

Eachhit from his metal arm was like agony. He had been trained all his lifefor this, but you? Hell, you only had a few classes with the paladins and someintensetraining with Lotor that usually ended romantically. You werein a good shape of course, and you were and amazing warrior but that wasn’tenough to face an eight-foot tall built and crazy purple alien with adeadly mechanical arm. Not to mention he probably had hundredsof years of intense military and combat training.

Soeventually your tired muscles made you flinch, and Sendak gotyou, slashing his claws all across your face.

Youscreamed in pain and you started taking steps back, blinded by the blood thatwas bathing your face. Trying to get away from Sendak you reached the Kral Zerastairs and tripped, falling backwards and dropping the bayard from your hands.You were exposed, and experiencing terrible agony. You weren’t sureif your foe’s claws did get your eyes because the pain was so excruciatingthat it went all throughout your head and down your neck.The only thing that you could actually hear was Shiro shouting yourname across the square and then Lotor, screaming before hearing the clashing ofmetal against metal again.

Aftera while you were able to open your eyes. You seemed to see just fine, eventhough the blood kept getting in your eyes, tinting everything red.The painwouldn’t go away, but you had to help Lotor. You knew he wasusually calm while fighting and that was what made him win. With all that rageinside he would only get himself hurt.

“Fuckingrabid pussycat.”

Bathedin your own blood and feeling the dizziness that usually came with excessiveblood loss, you reached for the black bayard and, taking a deep breath chargedSendak.

Theblade pierced right through his lower back and exiting through his lowerabdomen, making the commander growl in pain. As he turned around hehit you hard enough to send you flying back to the stairs, losing yourbreath when your ribs made contact with the cold and hard ground.

Realizingwhat had just happened all of the Galra fell silent and Lotor took afew steps back, wanting to get to you but, at the same time, not being sure ofSendak’s defeat. Did you just kill the commander? By yourself?

Theanswer came as Sendak fell to his knees panting in pain and, immediatelyafter he fell on his face. Dead.

“He isdead.”

“Thehuman girl has killed Sendak.”

“She did it.”

Seeing that hisfoe was defeated, Lotor dropped his sword and ran to you.

You let outa moan of pain as he cradled you in his arms. Even through all the agony youmanaged to smile at him.

“We didit” you mumbled.

“You did it,which was just incredible.”

Youchuckled, but the pain tore through you again, making you close youreyes tightly.

“It’sokay,” Lotor said, “don’t talk now. I… want to apologize. I was feeling soinsecure; I should have never said those awful things, my love. Now Isee, you are willing to do anything for me as I would for you. Willyou be able to forgive me?”

“Ilove you, Lotor, that’s the only thing that matters.” You took a breath torecover your strength, “I have to apologize too. I was being so stupid aboutthe Emperor thing… acting like a brat with my friends.”

“Shh now,you were right about everything.” The prince stroked your hair,stained with blood. He wanted to cry, seeing you so hurt because ofhim, with Sendak’s claws marks across your face leaving you branded forever.

“Lightthat flame. Go claim your throne” you said under your breath, grabbing Lotor’snape to bring him down to you to kiss him.

“Ourthrone.” He corrected you, as you two broke apart.

“Vrepitsa, my Emperor.”

“Vrepitsa, my Empress.”

 -Chimera.

#prince lotor #lotor #vld lotor #voltron lotor #Voltron legendary defender #voltron lions #lotor x reader #voltron #lotor imagine #vld

[koganphrancis]

Camless Episode 4

(gif credit: winifred-burkle)

It’s a landmark episode and not a lot happens, as always.  If they didn’t have the fact it was the 100th episode to talk about, they’d pretty much have nothing at all.  Another episode without bringing up Terror (yay!), another episode without sex or a titty shot (shock!), another episode where we learn nothing about wtf is going on with Ian (yawn).  I HAD thought the show had managed to wrap up 3 storylines, but then I saw spoilers online last night that would indicate at least 2 of them will go on :(  Spoilers and not much else under the cut.

Ian got the “here’s what you missed” again this week, which I’m taking as another sign Cam is nearing the swan song ;)  But, ugh,the opening wasn’t funny-or understandable-at all.  Cam’s standing in front of a busload of extras they must’ve bussed in from a local Chicago school of modeling to portray Gay Jesus supporters, he’s wearing his “God Loves Fags” T shirt and says, “What the fuck were you doing last week that was more important than watching Shameless?  Protesting homophobia and bigotry?  Damn right you were.”  WTF?  If people weren’t watching Shameless last week they were exercising good taste, not “protesting” somewhere at 9 PM on a Sunday-or does he mean not watching this shit show is a protest against homophobia and bigotry?  That actually does make sense.  I apologize ;P

Liam  Whatever the point was of aging him and doing a time jump after Monica died went out the window last night when Liam is approached by some public school teachers about his placement for the next school year.  Liam is afraid he’s going to be kept back, but they assure him it’s the opposite, they want to move him up.  He asks if he’ll be put in 3rd grade, but they say they want to try him in 6th.  But if Liam thought skipping a grade would put him in 3rd, that means currently he’s in 1st and the oldest that would make him right now is 7.  The fuck?  The only reason I’m talking about any of this is because that’s how lame the show is now.

Carl  Lip FINALLY says something to him about the dogs smelling up the whole house.  And then shockingly Ian and Carl have a conversation about the dogs too-and West Point.  But of course this is the year of the Gallagher house seeming weird and creepy, so the conversation takes place with a very catatonic-like Ian sitting on the basement steps in weird shadows whilst Carl feeds the dogs.  The brotherly convo goes like this: Ian: Sure they wouldn’t have been better off if you just gassed them like you were supposed to? Carl: I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I: How are you going to order men (note to JW-women can serve in the armed forces now too, even in combat) to kill the enemy if you can’t put down a couple of old dogs?  That’s what officers do-order men (!!!) to kill.  What did you think they were gonna teach you at West Point?  Marching cadences? C: Is that what Gay Jesus would do? I: What, kill old dogs?  Hell no, Gay Jesus is all about inclusion and grace, but you’re not looking to get into heaven.  You want to lead lean mean murdering machines.  (DID ANYONE EVER THINK THAT WAS IAN’S GOAL IN GOING TO WEST POINT?  LEADING KILLING MACHINES TO THEIR DEATHS?  I HATE YOU, JOHN WELLS!)  If you can’t kill a couple of old dogs might be the time to start considering teaching kindergarten?  Nursing school?  

On that note, he gets up and walks away.  Let me interject another rant here-since WHEN is Ian this insensitive sexist jerk who would think of jobs/careers in terms of things real men do vs. traditionally (in the dark ages) “feminine” jobs?  John Wells is a fucking dinosaur that needs to be educated-fucking teaching and nursing jobs are as difficult as soldiering, plus these days they’re expecting teachers to start protecting classrooms with weapons.  He’s such a dumb fuck!

And also-I bet this is the only time Ian will speak to Carl about West Point and we’ll never know how he truly felt about watching Carl grasp at the dream he once had.  Way to blow the opportunity.

There’s a whole stupid side story about Carl and the kid who originally was getting the West Point letter of recommendation.  In another add it to the list of “read the room, school kids arranging to shoot each other isn’t funny, you fucking out of touch white males” plots, Carl needs to get his “killing mojo” back so he goes to visit a local veteran.  I can’t even begin to guess if Wells was trying to make some commentary about PTSD or if he was just using the poor guy for laughs (this is Shameless, as they love to remind us, so I’m guessing Wells was just going for yuks).  The show makes its at least THIRD joke using tattoos as a punchline, and-just like with Mickey and Ian-it fails to be funny.  Get new material, you untalented hack!  Sorry I keep yelling at John Wells-what a waste if he’s not actually reading this ;) 

In Carl’s showdown with the other kid, Wells turns that kid into a poetry-spouting “pansy” at the last second.  The kid can’t bring himself to shoot Carl, so he shoots himself in the thigh saying his warmonger dad can’t make him enlist in the Marines now even if he’s not going to West Point.  I’m sitting at home wondering if the idiot nicked his femoral artery and is about to bleed out.  Carl says the self inflicted wound is just a flesh wound and they’ll be able to tell, so the kid starts blabbering poetry and Carl shoots him in the other thigh to shut him up.  The kid thanks him and Carl walks away.   Now I’m convinced that second shot had to hit the femoral artery and no one’s calling 911 and I bet the kid dies and Carl’s path to West Point is now strewn with his body and Kassidi’s.  

Debbie  I can’t...I’ll try, I’ll try to be brief, because it’s all meaningless.  After spending one night together, Alex says they should live together (because that’s what ALL wacky lesbians do, they move right in), and Debs says yes.  They get to have a cute domestic breakfast scene that by rights should’ve gone to Mickey and Ian, but I digress.  Debbie goes out and buys “lesbian” outfits, which to me just seemed like they were making fun of HER-of course she’s going to hit the mall, she’s just a teenager!  She doesn’t have to be the spokeswomen of lesbians everywhere.  This show has a knack of mocking the wrong things at the wrong times.  It’s their shitty writing, not teen spending habits, that’s ridiculous here.

The next time we see them, they’re in bed again, and Alex is filling Debbie in on her past serious relationships, and then Wells gives Debbie a speech about all the dudes she slept with and it’s so much more cringe-worthy thinking about the fact he wrote it.  Plus it’s another “relationship retcon” speech since Debbie doesn’t mention that every other time she’s had sex it was a form of rape.  Matty (who Wells has Debbie say had a “big dick”) wasn’t conscious (and, btw, John, a 12 year old virgin-which is the oldest Debbie could’ve been at the time with all your screwing around with her still being 16 last year-wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about “big dicks” for her very 1st time), Derrick (who she lied to about birth control-if he had slipped off a condom right before entering her that would be rape and this case is also-Wells says he had a great body and really knew what he was doing), and the guy she crossed state lines with who was obviously over 21 if he could rent a hotel room in Missouri, PLUS she was drugged and unable to give consent-that dude’s a two for!  Debbie doesn’t mention him, since she can’t remember him, I guess.  She brings up Neil, but says being with him was just financial (she doesn’t bother to say he just watched while she did things to herself.  But hey, if they had had sex, that would’ve been another case of statutory!)  Anyway, then Wells has Debbie spout off about what having sex with another “girl” is like and Alex gets more and more dejected.  She’s just now seeing that Debbie’s not gay?  We’re supposed to feel sorry for her?  When in the previous episode which SEEMS to have taken place the day before (or a couple of weeks, tops, if you’re going by Liam’s time line) Alex said right out loud that she knew Debbie was straight?  WHY IS THIS SHOW SO DUMB?  We haven’t gotten to know Alex well enough to have sympathy for her regardless, but they made the point of letting us know she KNEW going in Debbie is straight.  And of course in John Wells’ world, there’s no such thing as bisexuals, so...

Deb and Alex “break up” (who cares?) and I thought that would be the end of Alex and Debbie’s gay storyline, but no-sounds like they’re going to be the new Ian and Terror-next week “Debbie tries to repair things with Alex” according to Spoiler TV.  NOOOOO!  I wanted that to be one of my three wrapped up storylines!  

Debbie comes back into the Gallagher kitchen, dragging her baby carriage and pillow with her and crying her heart out.  None of the siblings appear very concerned-this is the new Shameless, a bunch of strangers occasionally bumping into each other.  The biggest “shocker” of the scene is the family is eating Popeye’s instead of KFC.  Another jolt that we don’t even know these people anymore, LOL.

Lip  I can’t...I just don’t understand the motivation to try to make Xan part of his life when he doesn’t seem to be bonding with her in the least.  He asks her if she’d want to stay with him if her mom never comes back-but doesn’t tell the kid why HE wants her to stay or ask Xan why she would want to stay when she says okay.  The story is hollow and no one seems to try to be filling it with any substance.  

There’s a couple of scenes at the motorcycle shop and it’s so obvious Lip and Brad have no idea what they’re doing-they always just grab wrenches and poke at bike parts with them.  Last night Lip kept using the ratchet wrench-I think JAW must like the noise it makes.  

Lip sells the bike he restored to get money to buy parental rights from Xan’s mom, and it’s just creepy?  Why would the mom know to trust him?  I’m still not even convinced WE should trust him-sharing a room with her is creepy af.  Anyway, Xan comes running up when Lip’s trying to get the mom to make the deal (and why is Xan out unsupervised in the middle of the night on a dark South Side street?  Even if she did “just” sneak out to look for her mom, this is a clear example that Lip isn’t father of the year, that he’s not meeting the bare minimum requirements as a guardian), and the mom drops to hug Xan because it’s the 100th episode and these two characters we barely know should get the big emotional scene?  Anyway, Lip drops the check and runs, overwhelmed by an actual show of emotion, no doubt.  THIS was the 2nd storyline I was hoping would be over, but then TMZ reported that the actress who plays Xan has been signed for Season 10.  Which, BTW, still hasn’t been officially announced and that just seems weird that they haven’t.  What is Showtime waiting for?  

Fiona  Ugh, she was worse than ever this week.  Can’t believe these are her waning days-it truly seems like Wells is out to punish her.  Fi is on the toilet as Bored brushes his teeth.  Fiona goes right from flushing to brushing her teeth WITHOUT WASHING HER HANDS.  It was so gross-I hope next episode she and Bored have pink eye and mouth thrush.  (Fi also touches her lip after putting on lipstick-still without the benefit of soap.)  They still have no fucking chemistry, and they start talking about the election which of course they don’t see eye to eye on.  Then Fi goes to Patsy’s for the first time in forever and Wells gets to recycle the Fi vs Ian fight over gentrification from last season by having Fi on the opposite side of Frank’s candidate, although they don’t bother to give us any face-to-face interaction.  Which is just fine, since the election storyline was boring and weak anyway.  

Fi is a total...I don’t even know the word-what do you call a boss who doesn’t allow their workers their freedom as voters?  She tells the waitresses to take off their buttons supporting their candidate and that there can be “no electioneering” at the workplace, but puts up a poster for her guy and offers free pie to anyone who puts on one of his buttons.  Would she ever really be that clueless and such a bully?  Does anyone care anymore?  

Later, Fiona goes to the Alibi and has a conversation with Vee where she basically says, “This is what Ford is telling me to think this week...”  Fiona says she wants to vote for the guy against rent control, the businessman  And Vee points out that “the businessman” in Washington isn’t working out too great.  Ooh, Shameless, rushing in with the timely political commentary!  (There will be more too, ugh.)

When Fi shows up at her (or a?) polling place, there’s a rumble going on and Wells has her throw one punch to show us she’s still “South Side”, I guess.  It was gratuitous.  It did not remind us of the show’s glory days, it was a thrown in pointless moment that was so outrageously just tacked on. 

In Fiona’s final scene this week, Bored walks into the apartment building with his massive wooden toolbox reminding us he’s a massive tool, and Fiona tells him how she changed her vote, they kiss, and women’s rights are set back another 100 years.  Oh, and Bored still squints A LOT delivering his lines.  Emmy seems to open hers even wider, probably unconsciously trying to get the other actor to at least try to keep his open once in a while...

Veronica and Kevin  There was some more truly awful “rape jokes” this week. Rape is never going to be funny, and with the week this country suffered through last week-plus the fact that it’s still ongoing-I really wish they had just deleted all the Alibi scenes.  Kev makes up a scoreboard or bingo sheet (it isn’t clear) of all the “types” of rapey behavior that can now be shorthanded into a celebrity’s name.  I won’t even justify the “joke” with some examples.  And then KEVIN becomes a sought-after consultant to make other South Side bars less rapey because he’s the white man running the Alibi and Vee is...not.  

Frank is in the episode more than I’m going to talk about, but suffice it to say I do truly believe his election storyline is over (one out of three is not good enough, Shameless!  Wrap up the boring shit that’s going nowhere and do something with the other shit that’s also going nowhere!)   Mo wins the election, and Wells has a reporter say it’s because voters were afraid to say they were bigots in polls.  Which again, this show is too narrow to try to address larger issues-if that’s Wells’ theory why Trump won, it doesn’t explain how “bigoted voters” elected Obama twice.  Try making the world a better place, Wells.  Yes, there is racism and idiot bigotry here, but there was just something smug about how he justified his fictional political outcome.  There was a scene where Frank’s asking some of the Gallaghers if they’re voting-Carl says he’s too young, Lip says he’s not registered, and Ian says, “What’s the point?”  And that pissed me off too, because we’re having Gay Jesus shoved down our throats, but then Wells seems to be saying Ian won’t bother to vote and would rather blow shit up.  Again, the kid that ORIGINALLY had the dream to serve his country by going to West Point.  And fucking Lip-what, he’s too “smart” to think voting matters?  

(Also in that scene, Ian was eating peanut butter toast, but still no sign of his pill bottles.  Cam actually took a bite of the toast, if that type of dedication to his craft matters to anyone.)

The post credits “joke” was a pedo joke about Mo.  Fuck you, John Wells.  

The only thing Frank was good for this week was to lead us back to Mickey’s house.  As so often with this show, I have to forget context (good thing I’ve had plenty of practice, I guess?) and I will fully admit that when I saw Mickey’s little castle of a house I teared up a little.  It was like seeing an old friend.  

But then of course they had to ruin it by Frank knocking on the door, we hear Terry yelling and hitting a dog named Adolf (they put a yelp in and everything) and Terry opens the door wielding a baseball bat that brought Negan and Jeffery Dean Morgan to mind-I hope that was a shout out to him.  The bat had nails in embedded in it instead of barbed wire, but close enough.  Best not to imagine how much cooler the show might have been with JDM instead of Sean, sigh.  

A much funnier joke than anything they did give us about Mo White would’ve been to have Frank ask Terry, “Still have a connection with Russians?  I have an election to rig.”

Finally we get to Ian but just because he had more screen time this week doesn’t mean we’re any closer to knowing anything.  And I was going to bust Cameron for acting very sleepy and out of it in all of his scenes, but then I realized that’s pretty much how all the Gallagher kids actors have been acting, except for Fiona (and I’d say she’s trying too hard sometimes.  There’s also been lots of scenes so far where it seems like she’s phoning it in-but of course they’re giving her shit to do).  

Anyway, things this episode start in the Gallagher kitchen, Ian groans when he sees the coffee’s all gone, and says he’s not sleeping-he got too used to all the noise in jail, it’s too quiet here.  Well, bitch, the house was always lively when the Milkovich siblings were there too, work on getting them back...

Lip asks him if he met his public defender yet and Ian says Geneva and the Gay Jesus donors got him a lawyer, “rich, queer, too much time on his hands since same sex marriage got fixed.”  Um, why is Ian sounding so put out with the guy without even meeting him?  What’s this superiority complex?  

Later Ian walks into GJ church HQ and he’s limping, but I don’t think it’s a continuity error, I think they probably just had him film scenes out of order that day and I think he went a little too hard, LOL.  Anyway, the GJ kids applaud and Geneva hugs him-she’s into it, he’s not.  At the HQ they’re making silk screen shirts with Ian’s face and Gay Jesus signs.  Geneva is once again spouting out statistics, saying how wildly popular the movement is, 77,000 followers in the past five days-One Direction at their height was gaining popularity around the globe like that, not this Gay Jesus shit.  Ian doesn’t seem to be listening too closely to what she’s spewing, and when two body-builder women walk by he asks Geneva who they are.  She says they’re part of the lesbian legion from an MMA gym and adds, “Your gays turned out to be too sweet to handle security.”  Whatever-they keep trying to act like there’s all this dynamic action happening off screen-NO ONE CARES since all we ever see is Ian moping around, looking like Cameron has a headache.

Next time we see Ian he’s walking around outside in his red kicks (really wish we knew the significance of those-are they supposed to be like Jesus’ sandals?  What happened in the cut scene where he left them in the aisle last season?  I only want to know because the show seems to think they mean SOMETHING)-anyway, where’s Ian going?  Why?  We’re never told-great storytelling this ain’t, kids.  A van slows up next to him and a guy leans out and says, “You’re Ian, right?  Gay Jesus?”  How did the guys in the van know where Ian would be walking?  Do they just circle the Gay Jesus church hoping he’ll come out?  Again, we’ll never know.  The guy continues, “I’ve been watching your videos with my friends.  The burning vans, the sermons-it’s inspiring.”  Ian says thanks.  The guy says, “You really think that’s what Jesus was teaching?”  Ian says, “Inclusion, love, acceptance for all?  Yeah, absolutely.”  Then the van guy says, “You don’t think God sees homosexual bestiality as a sinful perversion of His divine creations?”  Ian’s confused, says, “What?”, sees the sliding panel door of the van open, and takes off running, jumping over fences and at some point in his getaway, pulling some muscle in his tight jeans.  

Next time we see Ian he’s sitting alone in the Gallagher kitchen nursing a beer and his thigh.  (No Bible this time-no sign of his pills either.)  Lip comes in and asks him if he’s okay and Ian says he maybe pulled a hamstring running from homophobes.  Lip says, “I guess there’s nothing new about that, right?” and you wonder just when he stopped caring so completely about his brother.  

Ian doesn’t bother to answer, sips his beer instead.  After a minute he quietly asks Lip, “Think you could do hard time?” Lip: In prison?  Uh...rather not.  I: Gay Jesus kids don’t want me to cop a plea.  Want me to take it to trial.  Get as much publicity for the cause as I can. L: What’s your lawyer say? I: Could be looking at 10-15 if I don’t take a deal.  (Me at home, screaming at the TV: WHAT ARE THE CHARGES?  WHY CAN’T THEY EVER TELL US ANYTHING?  WHAT ARE THEY SAYING YOU DID THAT’S ON PAR WITH MICKEY’S BULLSHIT ATTEMPTED 2ND DEGREE MURDER SENTENCE????)

Lip, rather than saying ANYTHING to the brother he’s closest to about maybe not giving up his entire young adulthood to a cause, not saying something like, “You’d be older than the real Jesus got to live till by the time you get out”, not saying if he thinks Ian’s an idiot if he’s even questioning doing hard time in a bad place, no, rather than that, he takes his coffee out of the microwave and comes around the counter to the same side as Ian and says, “You ah, hearing from Shim again?” I: Sometimes.  (Me at home: WHAT?  WHEN?  What does that look like when it happens?) L: Well, what does Shim think? I: Unclear.  (Oh, Ian, are you kidding me?  All this time you thought you were talking to god but you’ve just been playing with a Magic 8 Ball?) L: Xan’s mom showed up today.  (Guess we’re done talking about Ian then!)  She’s a junkie.  Hookin’... I: What are you going to do? L: I don’t know. I: Maybe you should try asking Shim. L: Maybe.  

End scene.  So again, we get tantalizingly close to a discussion about what might be going on inside Ian’s head-is he getting it?  That the Gay Jesus movement is just using him at this point?  Or does he really think going to prison as the highly recognizable face of said movement is going to work out somehow-other than him not dying a painful and brutal death?  And why can’t Lip give enough of a shit to at least ask him not to go?  Fuuuuuuck.  

Next Ian’s back at GJ HQ.  Geneva comes in and says she didn’t see him come in.  He says he came in the back-all the hugging and applause when he comes in the front is kinda weird.  Since Geneva is the only one who ever hugs him, I hope she’s getting the hint.  He’s looking over the “Free Gay Jesus” posters.

Ian: What is this? Geneva: Couple of the arty kids are working out a few ideas for if you do end up in prison. I: Couple assholes in a van chased me last night.  Apparently they’re not very big fans of my interpretation of Bible verse. G: Fuckers.  I’ll get you a couple of lesbian legion body guards.  They’d love nothing more than to a chance to stomp homophobes.  (Because, yeah, THAT was Jesus’ message.) Ian holds up a Che Jesus shirt with an unintentionally hilarious graphic of him wearing a beret-Showtime probably thinks fans want to buy them (I wrote these notes before Steve Howey tweeted he wants one last night.  It got less than a thousand likes, and I bet that number would be less than half if Cam hadn’t replied).  

I: Think any of this is gonna end up making a difference? G: Ian, you’ve given thousands of gay and lesbian teenagers a voice.  (Insert Mickey gif of “Not really tho” here.)  You’ve inspired us to stand up and fight for ourselves.  

So much wrong with so much of that.  First of all, is Geneva LGBT?  She was a runaway who ran away from having to give blowjobs, right, not because her parents kicked her out for being LGBT?  And she’s been crushing on Ian since Day 1, so, probably not “L”, and Wells clearly doesn’t believe in “B”, so who is Geneva to say “us”?  And next, IF Ian/Gay Jesus has given kids “a voice”, what is he saying for them-are the teens really into his whole “Jesus was a junkie”, “my god is non-binary” shouting that they haven’s shown since last year?  Don’t teens get bored and move on to the next thing when their idols aren’t doing anything new?  Lastly, she says they are standing up and fighting for themselves-where, when, how?  

I: Know what I was thinking when I was running away from those bastards?  (Me at home: NO!  We never know what you’re thinking!  That’s the whole damn problem with your storylines!)  It’s been 2000 years since Jesus died on the cross and I’m still running for my life down an alley because I fall in love with men instead of women.  (No, Ian, you’ve only ever loved one (1) man-fucking admit that for once and then get on with your life.  That line should’ve been “have sex with”, no one deserves to be chased down for that either, and it wouldn’t have made me exasperated with Ian over the whole “love” thing, which is a separate issue this show fucking needs to handle before it’s all said and done with Ian.)  

Then one of the GJ kids comes in to report there’s a bunch of Nazi’s keeping people from getting to one of the polls and we don’t see Ian again this episode. But again, I hope that they’re finally having him wake up to the fact that NO ONE cares about him.  The family has washed its hands of him, the Gay Jesus followers WANT him to go to prison (and probably die) and be a martyr for the cause.  Time to ask yourself who is the only person who ever looked at you and actually saw you there, Ian.  The only person to look you in the eye and say, “I love you.”   

#Recap #Camless Episode 4 #Season Nein #Nobody wants it

[galathynius]

Under the Mistletoe - Rowaelin Modern Christmas AU

I made cookies all day today and was feeling festive so I decided to write a cute Rowaelin Christmas fic! It ended up being a lot longer than I meant for it to be though, oops.

Prompt: Are you the one putting mistletoe absolutely everywhere in this apartment building, or do you just happen to be in the right place at the right time every single time I walk under it AU (Credit to this Christmas AU post. Request another one in my ask box if you want!) 

I would greatly appreciate it if you reblog because I don’t have many followers and don’t get much exposure. Merry Christmas!

For the fourth time that week, Rowan passed under the mistletoe hanging above the doorframe of the apartment building at the same time as Aelin did. As always, he pretended not to notice it. He was starting to get a little suspicious. It couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?

He grimaced to himself as they entered the elevator together. Rowan and Aelin were acquaintances; they lived on the same floor and he had talked to her a few times at their neighbor Aedion’s many parties and whatnot, but that was about it. Aelin was friendly enough that normally he might make small talk on the ride up to the seventh floor, but the mistletoe business made Rowan feel uncomfortable. Was she offended by the fact that he hadn’t even acknowledged the situation? He hoped that maybe she hadn’t noticed it was there.

Today Aelin’s arms were loaded with shopping bags. She caught Rowan looking at them and flashed him a sheepish grin. “Last minute Christmas shopping,” she said. “I don’t know how it got to be three days away.”

Rowan smiled in return, but it felt awkward on his lips. Mercifully, the elevator dinged, saving him from having to come up with a response. The doors opened and he let her go first. Rowan tried very hard not to look up at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling as they neared her door. Aelin was busy fumbling with her keys and didn’t seem to see it there.

“Do you need some help?” he asked. His natural chivalry kicked in despite the awkward situation. You’re making it awkward, you buzzard, he thought to himself. I bet she hasn’t even noticed.

“No, I’ve got it, but thank you,” she said, opening her door. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are you going to Aedion’s Christmas Eve party?”

Rowan’s thoughts had wandered back to the mistletoe, so it took him a moment to process what she had asked. “Oh, uh, yes.”

She smiled and nodded. “Guess I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, guess so.” Rowan managed to give her a half smile before she shut the door. Real eloquent, Rowan. He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling again, figuring he’d probably bump into her under some mistletoe again before Aedion’s party. You should just kiss her, a voice in the back of his mind said. You know you want to. He huffed a breath, making his way to his apartment. No, I don’t, he told himself as he fit the key into the lock, but he knew it was a lie. She probably doesn’t want me to kiss her anyway. Not that telling himself that actually made him want to do it any less.

He sighed, resisting the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the door he had just closed. He couldn’t deny that she was gorgeous, with her light hair and blue and gold eyes, and the self-confidence she paraded around with. And what he’d seen of her personality amused and intrigued him. He wanted to know everything about her, to be the one person she trusted with that precious knowledge.

Damn it.

Rowan didn’t know when, exactly, he had started feeling this way, but the mistletoe certainly wasn’t helping things.

As Aelin wrapped her many presents, her mind wandered to Rowan and how many times she had ended up, not entirely coincidentally, under a piece of mistletoe with him. Not that he’d seemed to notice that it was there. Or maybe he had and was pointedly ignoring it. She tried not to think about it being a blatant rejection, but she knew that he was always aware of his surroundings and likely noticed that it was everywhere. She didn’t know where it came from, but she wasn’t complaining, although it did sting a little every time another opportunity passed by unseized. She supposed she could make the first move, but he had never shown any interest in having such a thing happen, and she couldn’t bear to embarrass herself in such a way. She had a couple more days to feel him out, but she was beginning to doubt that anything would come of it.

The phone rang. It was Lysandra. “Hey girl!” she exclaimed when Aelin answered. Aelin smiled faintly, but didn’t feel up to matching her friend’s enthusiasm.

“What’s up?”

“I need your opinion on which dress I should wear to Aedion’s party.”

Aelin sat down on the couch. She honestly wasn’t surprised; Lysandra was famous for multiple wardrobe changes. It made planning for any kind of outfit coordination difficult. “I thought you decided on the blue one two days ago.”

“I did, but now I’m thinking either the purple or the red.”

Aelin laughed. “As I recall, you ruled that out entirely.”

“Yeah, but I just got this killer new red lipstick and I want to wear it.”

“Red lipstick goes with anything,” Aelin told her. “There’s no way it won’t look good on you. Aedion will go crazy.”

That was exactly what Lysandra wanted to hear. She and Aedion had started dating about two months ago, and they were still in the honeymoon phase. “That’s the goal. I think the red dress would complement it best. Ooh! Could I borrow your silver heels?”

Aelin sighed, but she was smiling. “I guess. But only because I like you.”

Lysandra squealed. “This is why we’re best friends. And on that note, why does my best friend sound so down? Disappointed that your secret crush won’t take my hints and just kiss you already?”

Aelin sat up straight. “You hung all that mistletoe up? You don’t even live in this building!”

“Of course it was me! Someone had to do something, because you certainly wouldn’t do it yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, you and I both know that if you were gonna make a move you would have done it by now.”

Aelin stammered a halfhearted start to a protest, then sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not interested. I’m almost positive he’s noticed it and he won’t even acknowledge that it’s there.”

“I’m sorry, girl, I really thought this would help. Maybe he’s shy. You’ve still got a few days to try to make something happen. It might work out.”

Aelin hoped she was right.

The next day, as Aelin was coming back from the library and Rowan from the grocery store, they passed under the front doorway at the same time again. Aelin struggled to keep her face passive, as if she hadn’t noticed the small branch above her. Little did she know that Rowan was dealing with the same internal struggle. It became more difficult as they entered, discovering that a whole line of mistletoe had been hung all the way to the elevator. Aelin felt heat creeping up her neck to her cheeks. Rowan dug his nails into his palms. He briefly considered taking the stairs, but thought better of it when he realized that Aelin had definitely seen the mistletoe. It would be obvious that he was trying to avoid her, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings because she would probably take it the wrong way.

“Who hung all this?” he found himself asking as Aelin pressed the elevator button. He hadn’t really expected her to answer, so he was surprised when she did.

“Someone overly enthusiastic, I’m sure,” she said wryly.

Rowan thought he’d be granted a reprieve when he entered the elevator, but he was sorely mistaken. The whole ceiling was covered in mistletoe. Aelin’s blush increased.

“I wonder how many people have actually kissed under this,” she murmured, not realizing she’d said it aloud. Rowan looked at her. She was staring up at the carpet of green. He felt his self-control slipping away. Worse, he felt himself not wanting to hold on to it. Before he even realized he was doing it, he set his grocery bags down, pressed the emergency stop on the elevator, and stepped toward her.

“Guess we better just embrace it,” he said, and braced himself for the inevitable rejection. What was he doing? Aelin turned to look at him. Rowan couldn’t read her expression. He was about to apologize and step away when she dropped her bag of books with a thunk and moved to meet him. When their lips met, everything melted away. It was exactly what they had been waiting for. When they finally pulled apart, their faces were still only inches away from each other.

“You know, mistletoe is poisonous,” Rowan breathed. Aelin’s laugh warmed his face, and he kissed her again.

When Aelin arrived at the party on Christmas Eve, Rowan was already there, talking to Lysandra and Aedion. His eyes immediately went to Aelin, who blushed. Lysandra gave Aelin a knowing look as they embraced, before she pulled Aedion away, claiming they had more guests to greet. Aelin hadn’t seen Rowan since the elevator incident, but she noticed that there was considerably less mistletoe hanging in their apartment building. Aedion had seen Rowan and Aelin exiting the elevator, faces flushed and eyes bright, and had likely told Lysandra that her meddling had worked.

Now they stood in front of each other, and Aelin wasn’t exactly sure what to say. She was praying that it hadn’t been a fluke.

“Hi,” Rowan said softly.

“Hey,” Aelin responded, still blushing. “Merry Christmas.”

Rowan smiled, and Aelin’s stomach knotted. “Merry Christmas.” His gaze slid upward and Aelin’s followed it to a familiar green plant hanging above them. When she looked back at him he was watching her. A small smile tugged up the corners of her lips. “Guess we better just embrace it.”

#rowaelin #modern au #christmas au #fanfic #original writing #tog #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #allison writes

[yoon-kooks]

To Your Aid

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, fluff

Summary: You waited all year for that one night when you could walk amongst the humans as yourself with the goal of satisfying a long thirst for human blood. But when a cute boy in a lettuce costume catches your eye, your priorities quickly change.

Word Count: 1.6k as long as the essay i was supposed to be writing oops

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death

A/N: happy halloween you nutty kids :-)

“Hey, I have a cute idea~” You hummed to a catchy song about blood, sweat and tears as you sat in your friend’s lap, playing with the freshly bitten wound you had given him. After licking up the last bit of gushing blood, you poked impatiently at the two holes as you waited for them to heal over.

“If it involves waking Yoongi up from his 131 years of slumber just to fuck with him, the answer’s no,” Namjoon shooed your annoying fingers away from his neck. “Remember what happened last time? You died, literally.”

“No! Fuck that guy,” you giggled, although the actual story of how you were turned into a vampire wasn’t exactly something to laugh about. “It’s about Halloween!”

“Halloween? You’re into useless shit like that?”

“Yeah! So I’m gonna go trick-or-treating tonight. Ya know, blend in with the kids who dress up like us?” you gave the boy a suggestive look and pressed a finger to your lips. “Wanna come? I heard human blood is a lot tastier than ours.”

“That’s just a myth, Y/N,” Namjoon rolled his eyes at you. “Human blood is loaded with sugar, especially with all that Halloween candy, and we shouldn’t consume too much of it if we want to maintain a healthy diet. And for your information-”

“Aw, you’re no fun, Joonie…” You jumped out of his lap and stretched out your arms. “Fine, I’ll just go by myself, and you don’t get any of the treats I collect~”

“Y/N, I swear to the fucking devil, if you come back with a horde of random trick-or-treaters, I’m feeding your ass to Jungkook.”

You shuddered at the name. Even Yoongi, the vampire who took your life, didn’t scare you because he all he did was sleep anyway, and every now and then you enjoyed cuddling with him but you’d never be caught dead doing that. But Jeon Jungkook? You didn’t dare to mess with that thirsty excuse of a kid.

“Joons!! Stop ruining the fun!” you groaned, although you knew Namjoon had a point. As vampires living among humans while concealing your identities, you couldn't just kidnap a bunch of trick-or-treaters, quench your thirst, wipe their memories, and then set them free with bandages around their necks an hour later. You had to at least try to fit in... or at least try to not make it look so suspicious. “Fine, but let me at least bring one. Oh! If you let me bring like three or four, I’ll share with you and-”

“One.” Namjoon cut you off.

You glared at the boy before throwing your black velvet cloak over your shoulders and slamming the door behind you.

-

“Fuck,” you wheezed after taking a whopping ten steps outside. It was late in the afternoon, but your hood wasn’t nearly enough to shield you from the demons called sunlight. Part of you regretted leaving the safety of your dark home so early, but Namjoon’s smartass was driving you mad and you were too stubborn to return home.

You clutched your chest dramatically even though you were fully aware that your heart was not beating. You were going to fucking die. You were already dead, but you were going to fucking die again if you didn’t get some shade and blood-

“Umm, are you okay?” a soft voice was accompanied by a gentle hand on your back. You turned around and looked up weakly into the light. An angel? No, no. Angels didn’t exist, you laughed to your dying delusional self. Rather than an angel, it was a giant talking lettuce. Because that apparently made a lot more sense to you. The Lettuce looked at the way you were panting and holding a loose grip on yourself. “Do you need something to drink?” He shuffled around his bag for something. Huh, you didn’t remember lettuce people ever carrying around bags. But it was funny. The Lettuce was funny.

“Blood would be nice, thank you,” you dropped your frail body into the hands of The Lettuce. Lettuces had blood, right? That’s why the leaves sometimes turned red in those salad bags?

“Blood?” The Lettuce looked down at you with big eyes before realizing the situation at hand. “Oh! I have that!” You were right.

Barely able to keep your eyes open, you watched as The Lettuce once again looked around in his bag, only this time he took out a bottle with red liquid in it. It had an aroma way too sweet to be blood, but then again, Namjoon did say human blood was full of sugar.

The Lettuce opened the bottle and brought it up to your lips for you to drink. It was indeed super sweet and not at all metallic, but you liked it. After a long gulp, you came back to your senses and stared into The Lettuce’s eyes. He was handsome and had the most beautiful eyesmile when he saw sparkles reflecting in your dark crimson eyes.

You suddenly realized you were in the hands of a human and jumped to your feet. It amazed you how effective and fast-acting human blood was, but nonetheless, you surveyed the human up and down in his lettuce costume, debating on whether or not he’d be the one you’d bring back.

His cheeks were full and squishy, his eyes had an innocent charm, and his plump lips would’ve been perfect on your neck if he had been a fellow vampire. And his neck was just begging to be pierced, although it would be a difficult task to reach his veins while he wore that bulky costume. So you’d probably have to get him to strip later, but you definitely weren’t complaining about that.

“Thanks for saving my life,” your face flushed red with what you had just consumed.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Little Vampire,” he smiled at you. You died at the cute pet name he gave you. “Remember to stay hydrated, yeah?” He pulled your hood back over your head and put the red bottle into your hands.

You nodded as you inspected the bottle more carefully. The label read “K**l-Aid”. You couldn't believe that while you were mildly high off the sunlight, you thought that that drink was actual blood. But why had it still cured you of your dying state? You had to investigate further.

“Are you going trick-or-treating tonight?” you asked innocently.

“Huh?” the boy, who looked around his twenties, glanced down at his costume and laughed. “Oh…! Nah, my friend and I just made a bet and I lost. That’s the only reason I’m wearing this weird costume.” It may have been a weird costume, but the boy looked awfully cute in it. You had to keep telling yourself not to stare for too long. “Why? Are you planning on going, Little Vampire?”

“Yeah, but my friend wouldn’t go with me because he’s mean!” you punched the air, pretending it was Namjoon’s dimpled face.

“I’ll go with you then, if you’d like,” the boy took your hand into his. His warm touch calmed your fiery soul down.

You couldn’t say no. He was definitely the one.

-

Before doing anything else, Jimin, as you learned was his name, took you to his house so he could change out of the lettuce costume.

“But why?” you whined. “I think it’s cute…” You had to remind yourself that it’d be in everyone’s best interest for him to take it off. But still, you had grown attached to The Lettuce.

“Really?” Jimin removed the little spiky cap, and then hopped out of the giant suit. For a moment, he stood there shirtless. Your jaw dropped at his perfectly toned body. Maybe it was because of the smiley face on the base of the chubby lettuce costume, but you certainly weren’t expecting the boy to have such a nice body as well.

Without thinking, you had walked up to the boy and pressed your face right into the crook of his neck. A sweet scent had lured you to him. To find the perfect victim, to bite him while no one was around to witness, and to wipe his memory afterwards—that had been your plan, hadn’t it?

Jimin just stood there waiting for you, giving you the perfect opportunity to strike. But to your surprise, you couldn’t do it. Not then, anyways. You slowly slipped down from his neck to his chest, where you heard his heart beating way too calmly.

You didn’t want to forget the sound of his beating heart, or the way he had smiled at you. And although you didn’t know how he felt, you certainly couldn’t take away those memories from him either.

Instead, you opted to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek and wrapped your arms around his torso. “Can I tell you a secret, Jimin?” you whispered into his ear.

“Go ahead, Little Vampire.”

“I don’t wanna go trick-or-treating… But I want more K**l-Aid…”

You heard Jimin chuckle. “You’re cute, Y/N.”

-

When you finally dragged yourself back home before daybreak, Namjoon raised an eyebrow at you, surprised you had come back without a human. “You came back empty-handed after all that fuss?”

You shook your head and threw a red bottle at the other vampire’s head, although he caught it before it smacked him in the face.

“It’s sweet just like you said, Joonie.”

“Y/N, this is K**l-Aid.”

“I think it’s better than human blood.”

“Did you even taste human blood?”

“No,” you paused thoughtfully. “But the K**l-Aid saved me when I was dying.”

Namjoon gave you a look before taking a tiny sip of the red drink. He coughed and choked on the overwhelming sweetness. And as you laughed at your wheezing friend, you came to realize it wasn’t the K**l-Aid that had saved you.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts vampire au #sfwbangtan #bts fluff #jimin x reader #bts imagines #jimin #bts #bangtan #to your aid

[someraesofsun]

And Play Some Video Games

Pairing: Miles/Geoff

Rating: T for some sexual language

Word count: 1998

Summary: When Kyle’s out sick, Miles brings on a guest for Backwardz Compatible. His dumb and very nosy boyfriend. Hijinks ensue. I originally started writing this for @just-a-fandom-mess​ but I liked it well enough to share. 

 It sounded like chaos in the animation department. Night fell on Austin, all had gone home for the night but two. Miles needed to push out a few recordings for a new Backwardz Compatible, and with Kyle sick with the flu, he needed backup. His backup came in the form of the biggest coward he'd ever met. Playing any horror video game with Geoff made Miles truly question why he slept with this man. As if he wasn't screaming just as much as the other man. The empty, darkened department was filled with their quick-fire conversations and bursts of shouting.

“Okay, so I’m- I’m gonna need you to stop, give me the controller, stop walking backwards into the rooms.” “Stop trying to take the controller, Miles, stop it!” “Just-just rip the bandaid off and let the fucking jumpscare happen, what are you do-GEOFF! LOOK OUT!” “A-AAH! Why are you scream- AHH, OH FUCKING CHRIST! Ohhhh no. Oh god, why, what the fuck...” “God you’re the worst person to play scary games with. She's dead again, great! You killed the dumb bitch again! Give me that!”

Miles swiped the controller from Geoff, as grumpy as he sounded, he was laughing. He laughed so hard, his ribs began to feel tough. So maybe, just maybe, he didn't miss Kyle as much as he let on. If anyone was a kick to play games with, it was Geoff. Playing scary games with your boyfriend was always a good idea, even if he was a total wimp. Miles reset the level, shooting Geoff a look which was returned with a goofy smile. “l hate you. So much.” the corners of his mouth betrayed him as the moved up into a smile. In order to hide this traitorous act by his body itself, Miles looked back towards the computer screen.

“You love me!” Geoff teased, and where the facecams couldn't see, his hand slipped under the desk to place itself on Miles’ thigh, giving it a light squeeze that sent an electric shock down his spine. They were relatively public about their relationship with the other workers and their fans, but they still kept physical contact at a minimum. Nothing would scare away their insecure male demographic faster than two men kissing for more than just a funny joke.

Unfortunately, Geoff knew nothing of boundaries or of the ideas of keeping happy a loathed but necessary source of viewership. While Miles breezed through the everything Geoff fucked up, he felt the gaze of a man ready to rile up some angry fanboys.

“So Miles,” Geoff began, blue eyes burning holes into the side of Miles’ head. He had a smirk playing at his lips, it was a lot of work, not elbowing him right in the mouth to get him to stop looking at Miles like this. “I've seen this show before, of course. Not as good as anything I make, but pretty alright.”

“Way to really sell paywalled content, not as good as the free stuff. But okay!” Miles tore his eyes from the screen to side glance Geoff. “But continue.”

“Well, I know that a theme for the show is Kyle always trying to get you to reveal dirty shit for the audience.” Geoff smiled innocently, leaning in just enough so that Miles felt his breath on his shoulder. “Seeing as I'm replacement Kyle-”

“And right here, I believe, is where I start regretting asking you to come on!” Miles spoke higher than usual, leaning forward to escape that hot breath warming the fabric of his shirt, that strange and almost overwhelming feeling.

“I'm just being the best replacement Kyle I can be!” Geoff laughed, pinching Miles’ cheek. “As your boyfriend, I demand I know all your dirty secrets.”

“But Geoff. Geoff Ramsey, man I love, let's just consider the camera that is rolling. The footage that we're sharing with a… whole fucking lot of people!” Miles let out an uneasy laugh, only to get another squeeze on the thigh. Geoff was playing with him. The game felt like cat and mouse. It was Geoff's goal to trap him into revealing personal stuff on this show. Maybe they could bleep it out later…

“Aw, like you haven't been on Barb's sex slow three times now. And that's a free show! This is just between us and whoever actually watches this.” God dammit, he had a point.

“Backwardz Compatible gets plenty of viewers, Geoff!” Miles gritted his teeth and tried to keep his focus on the game. Geoff, always there to push his buttons a little. Not maliciously, all in good fun. Miles wished he'd get his dumb personal questions out of the way already.

“Did I really hit a nerve, there? Miles, I'm just joking around, anything you touch takes off. You don't need me to tell you that.” Geoff frowned and leaned forward, planting a kiss on Miles’ cheek. This both melted his heart and frustrated him to no end. “I'm sooooorryyyy.”

Why did he have to be the cute, endearing kind of asshole?

“...You're alright. Jerk. Ask your stupid questions, replacement Kyle.” He had to lighten the mood and fast. At least some of this footage had to be useful. He couldn't help but feel like the game was no longer the scariest thing happening to him right now.

“Right! I have plenty!” Geoff sat up, the wicked grin on his face back. “Like… Am I the only guy you've ever actually been with?”

“Well…” Miles broke out into a cold sweat, oh no, he'd have to choose his words carefully, here. He might have been out, but… “No. But you are the first serious relationship.”

“Oh my god, does that mean you've had strictly fucking relationships? Miles, the one who went on a rant about friends with benefits! I don't believe this!” The sick amount of joy in Geoff's voice could have brought tears to Miles’ eyes.

“That's not what I said! We weren't strictly fucking, Jesus. We didn't… that. That did not happen!” Not like Miles didn't want to, but things were a little too complicated to get even more messy. “We tried things out, went on a couple dates, and decided that while we were into… you know, it wouldn't work out with us specifically.”

He prayed Kyle wouldn't watch this one.

Oh god Kyle, don't watch this one.

“Lame! I wanted some dirty stories, not bittersweet ones.” He hummed in thought for a second before grinning again. “Am I the first dude you fucked?”

“Holy fucking shit, you went right into, Geoff. Cool. Great.” Miles sighed and paused the game. Then he dropped his controller, leaning back in his seat. “...No. You aren't.”

The look of surprise and joy on Geoff's face was a little priceless. And Miles realized, resignation in his heart, that this topic was not going to be dropped anytime soon. He turned back to the camera. “So, I guess this is the point in the video where Geoff's one goal is to get tumblr to like me again. So if you're actually here for gameplay and not to hear about my sex life, we'll, uh, give you the time you should skip to. Or you can just keep watching, if you hate yourself.”

“Excuse you, Miles, but I'm giving tumblr everything they want tonight.” Geoff looked like a reporter ready to expose a government secret on national television. Lunagate with Geoffrey Frost. “So we're going to start with the fucking-”

“Something we're not doing after this.” Miles interjected with a laugh. “I have slept with… someone. Nobody here.”

“Are you sure, because as soon as you admitted that, I thought Kerry.” Geoff couldn't contain his excitement. Miles was kind of surprised. It wasn't the norm, for your partner to actually want to hear about your past sex life. But here was Geoff, giddy and ready to listen to Miles and his dirty laundry. Maybe Geoff didn't see it as dirty. Maybe that was kind of a good thing.

“No! Not Kerry! No no, it was a hookup. Completely random. Met a guy at a bar. I see the look and yes, it was a gay bar.” Okay, so maybe this was becoming a little fun. Maybe he was laughing at the exaggerated reactions. “God, you’re the worst.”

“I never said you couldn’t ask me equally invasive questions and I am more than willing to answer anything you throw at me.” Geoff grinned smugly. Because of course he was more than comfortable with talking sex. Of course he wanted to brag a little.

This had Miles interested. Well, if he wasn’t the only person embarrassing himself tonight, suddenly this game was a lot more fun! He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Well then… what about you? Am I your first fuck of the male persuasion?”

“You bet your ass you are.” If anything was going to throw Miles off, it was that.

There was just no fucking way.

There was no way that Geoff hadn’t been with another guy at one point. Was he really all that new to this? It didn’t make any sense to Miles, he was so much better at it than Miles ever was! He was so comfortable with it, too. It took Miles a bit to get used to the little gifts on his desk, the public moments like holding hands and sharing quick kisses around the office. He still crinkled his nose at ‘babe’ and ‘sweetheart’ and small gestures because he just wasn’t used to it yet. But for Geoff, it was all natural, not once did he seem to even care about who might be watching. Miles couldn’t believe for a second that he was Geoff’s first. “Am I… also the first guy you dated.”

“Yup.”

Okay now what the fuck was going on here, exactly? Miles squinted. “No fucking way.”

Geoff barked out a laugh, shrugging. Like this wasn’t the biggest revelation Miles had heard their entire relationship. “No fucking way! Are you serious? Geoff, you can’t possibly be serious right now.”

“Listen, I’m not into the club scene, I work a lot, I’m a fairly introverted guy! Girls are also easier to get. There’s more girls than gays. It’s not that big a deal, not like I’m already into both anyway or something.” He was so relaxed.

Miles was so shocked and wound up. Conversely.

“But you’re…”

“I swear to god if you say old-”

“Comfortable! You’re so relaxed about it.”

“Well, maybe you just relax me, Miles.” Geoff smiled genuinely and Miles felt his body melt. He didn’t expect that, either. “Maybe I’m just comfortable with it because I’m comfortable with you. And it’s alright if you’re not fully comfortable with it yet, really, I still know you like me. In time, you might calm the fuck down, too. Or you might never, and that’s alright too, because it’s pretty cute, how surprised every kiss still makes you. I’d be alright with that kinda cute forever.”

What a confession. It was no secret Miles was still getting used to all this. Actually, it was nice to hear that Geoff didn’t mind so much. Not only that, but he was surprised that he relaxed Geoff! Or that he was making such declarations in front of… oh. Oh the camera. He didn’t know how long he stared at Geoff, but he became acutely aware of the camera and glanced at it. Shit. Fuck.

“We’re cutting that out. All of that. By the way. If you genuinely thought that was going to stay in there, you’re out of your mind.” Miles leaned in and gave Geoff a kiss, picking up his controller and going back to the game. “OOOOOOO-KAY, well that was a conversation, Geoff, wasn’t it!”

“Ha, sure was, buddy.” Geoff, understanding completely that he had no chance of even fighting the edit-out, went back to dumb commentary while occasionally squeezing Miles’ thigh under the table. He was alright with that. He was very relaxed.

#giles

[crbrickey]

Goals...

All the time, people ask me how do you keep going? When I say people, I mean me. It’s simple, I have made goals in my life that give me a reason to keep fighting. 

In this blog, I'm going to write about how I use goals in my life and rules I use when creating them. Now, I am no expert, I mean hell, I'm 34 and unemployed. So, I may not be the best person to write on this topic, but I'm going to write it anyway and take it with a grain of salt. 

Goals took over my life when I was 9 and starting to comprehend everything in my life. I realized I had a terminal disease and I wasn't the first child in my family. At this time I vowed to never make my parents have to bury another child. The circle of life isn't meant to go that way. At that age I couldn't comprehend that feeling completely but I knew it wasn’t right. Now that I am older and have dealt with death, I know for a fact this was the best goal I could have made for myself at that age. 

Now I want to talk about my “goal setting process.” I do goals with a 3 prong approach. I call them small, medium and large. (Tall,Grande,Venti for our Starbucks audience) The large is the grandiose goal, it is the ultimate goal that we are trying to approach. Your large goal is way out there and so I realize if you don’t see progress, its easy to lose track of what you’re trying to approach. Hence, my other 2 prongs. Now medium goal, I like it to be a few years out, but no more than 10 but no closer than 2. At 9, it was simple for me, make it to graduation. It would bring great joy to my parents if they saw their child graduate high school. This became my medium goal, but I still felt like it was too far out. So, I decided to do goals that would be in the near future, no farther out than 2 years. My small goal was to make to to 10. 

Here is where we come up with rules. My first rule is pretty simple. RULE 1, THE SMALL AND MEDIUM GOALS HAVE TO BE TO HELP YOU GET TO THE LARGE GOAL.

My second rule is a big one. Once you meet a goal, it is imperative to replace it with a new goal. Yes, celebrations are nice, but you have to keep that drive. One little slip up and you can find yourself in a rutt. Once I made it to 10, my next goal was going to middle school. Another big milestone for me. I was going to a school where you had to start performing tasks as an adult. What I mean by that, passing period. It was a big deal being able to take yourself to your next class. A little bit of independence. 

Once I made it to middle school, it became to become a basketball manager, go to high school, go to Homecoming etc.. The important thing was the very next day after I achieved a goal, I would replace it with a new one. RULE 2, ALWAYS REPLACE MADE GOIALS WITH NEW ONES. 

For me, rule 3 is probably the most important. Even though a lot of motivational speakers would hate me for saying this, but your goals have to be fluid. What I mean by that, don’t be afraid to change them. Life can be a real jerk sometimes and knock you off course. Sometimes these setbacks will make even your small goal seem unattainable. Remember as I said earlier, being able to reach goals is what keeps me going. If I saw no goal attainable, I would be lost. This has happened to me a lot. Example: every time I am sick. Especially the times the Doctors have all but ruled me out. In these instances, I would change my small goal to something as simple as surviving through the night, not dying while I had company etc.. 

This example comes from my sophomore year when I was so sick the priest came to give me my last rites. After the priest left, I was blessed to have a friend and her sister come and sing to me. While they were there, I kept fighting knowing watching some one die at such a young age couldn’t be good. That fighting for 30 minutes, gave me enough time that a family friend was able to get to Ark City and change my bi-pap settings. The new settings finally gave me the air I needed to survive. So you can see how I changed my small goal from going to prom to not dying in front of friends in a minute. That changed the reason I am still here today. Its easy to give everything you’ve got for 30 minutes as opposed to a year and a half. So like I said, RULE 3, YOUR GOALS MUST BE FLUID. THEY NEED TO BE CHANGED SOMETIMES AT A MOMENTS NOTICE. 

 My next rule is pretty obvious so we won’t spend much time on it. Make sure your goals are realistic. I think some of our problems today, is that kids are told they can do or be anything. Not true Tommy, if you’re 5′0- you’re not gonna be an NBA player. I will never climb Mt. Everest because I’m in a wheelchair, so I'm never going to make that a goal. If you hate school like I did, you will never become a Doctor. Because that much school is a deal breaker. (I wanted to be a lawyer when I was younger, but I realized- too much school) Now, I'm not saying you can’t become that doctor, but you're going to have to change who you are and when you make your goal today, make it for the person you are today. Remember, goals are fluid, so they can change but you're doing yourself a disservice if you make a goal for the person you are not. RULE 4, MAKE YOUR GOALS REALISTIC.

Here’s a rule that I bet no one has ever mentioned. I know I had never heard it before. Make sure your goals are at least in your control 50%. That sounds confusing, let me explain. Don’t have a goal to win the lottery. You have like .00000001 % control of that. The only thing you control is whether or not to buy the ticket. Let me give another example, you want to be the first to do something, say go to Mars. I know, another far out there-i’m not the best at examples. The point being though, you can’t control the end. The lottery is all luck and trying to be the first to do something, relies on everyone else not doing it before you. You can’t control the rest of the world. If you make goals that others can influence, it’s easy to not reach them. It is empirical to be at least majority owner of your goals. I know 50.1% is majority but I stop at 50% because sometimes you need a partner. If you guys both go 50/50 you have majority control. Although split, it’s still majority. RULE 5, MAKE YOUR GOALS WHERE YOU HAVE AT LEAST 50% CONTROL. 

Time limits are bad. Remember rule 2, I talked about life can knock you down. When it does, it can throw off someones timeline. If you can’t reach a goal, you may fall into a real problem. So this one is simple. RULE 6, NEVER PUT A TIME LIMIT ON GOALS. 

Off topic, but I'm doing this with spring training on, and I looked up and they were showing that chunky milk commercial, it is the grossest thing ever. Allow me a little bit to gather myself. 

Everybody’s life has changes throughout. My life changed last year when I started receiving Spinraza. My life expectancy has gone up ten fold. I very easily could live to an old age just like the rest of you guys. So, I had to make changes. All my life, my goals for the most part were just goals to survive. I really didn’t see my life entering an adult stage. Even when I first graduated college and was suppose to enter adult stage. I reverted to partying and traveling. My thinking was life is short, I want to enjoy it. And I have no regrets. I’ve done things I'd only dreamed about. But now, I’m realizing my life has a lot longer expiration date. So, I'm at this crossroads. What to do. Simple, I made more goal trees as I call them. I made a personal, (family, love etc.) and a professional (work, job etc..). So this is the rule. RULE 7, HAVE MULTIPLE GOAL TREES. Life is too big for only one goal. 

Now that we know my 7 rules for setting my goals, what are my goals? I have 3 active goal trees. 

FIRST GOAL TREE, life expectancy. LARGE, make sure my parents don't have to bury me. MEDIUM, watch my niece and nephews graduate. (I’m kind of breaking my rule since Easton is still 14 years away, but it works because Alex and Cayden fall in the next 8 and 9 years). SMALL, get my next Spinraza shot. It is Match 8th, so when I reach that one, I'll probably just go with my next one. 

GOAL TREE 2. Professional. LARGE, run for public office so I can be an advocate for people with physical disabilities. MEDIUM, get this blog to go viral so I can start helping those that need it. SMALL, get 10 shares for a blog. Could this be the one?? 

GOAL TREE 3. PERSONAL. LARGE, I'll say it, get married. Didn't think I'd live long enough to worry about that. MEDIUM, get a girlfriend. SMALL, find a dating site that works, I'll be honest, I don’t think I’ll meet my future Mrs. Brickey at the bar, especially since I don’t go there anymore. 

Alright people, that is how I use goals to get me to this point in my life. I hope this is helpful and if it is, please share. I really do want to help other people.