Summary: It’s the night of the annual Bellas/Trebles reunion kegger, and new moms Chloe and Beca still aren’t down with that whole ‘babysitter’ concept.
Beca leans into the open back door of the car and grabs an overstuffed diaper bag, which she passes out behind her to Chloe. Chloe tries to swing the bag through the door but in the process smacks Beca on the side of the head with it.
Leaning in further, Beca grabs yet another diaper bag, also stuffed. “What is even in these, why did we bring so much stuff?”
“Beca. Please don’t start.”
She pulls the second bag from the floor and hoists it awkwardly onto her shoulder, then begins tugging on the folded-up playpen. Chloe reaches in to help, and they finally extract it from the back seat.
“Do we really need the playpen?” Beca can’t help asking. “You know she won’t stay in it.”
“It’s for when she falls asleep,” Chloe explains. Before Beca can close the door, she adds, “Grab those blankets, too.”
Beca suppresses an eye roll, but obediently ducks back into the car and retrieves a huge, unwieldy bundle of blankets, most of them printed with Disney characters. She nudges the door shut with her knee and attempts to fold and condense the bundle into something smaller and less conspicuous.
“Okay, I think that’s it,” Chloe says, scanning their gear. “We should be ready.” She turns as if to head up the sidewalk toward Stacie’s house.
“Chlo,” Beca stops her, jerking her head toward the car. “The baby?”
“Oh. Right.” Chloe winces and laughs a little, giving her a look that seems to say Don’t tell anyone about that. She crosses around to the other side of the car and opens the back door. She gives an exaggerated gasp, then croons, “Hiii! Look who’s awake!”
Beca follows, peering in at Violet, who’s just blinking herself into full consciousness but nevertheless already smiling. “Good timing,” she comments, not sure if she means it to be literal or ironic.
“Are you ready to party?” Chloe asks the baby.
“Your very first kegger, this is a big deal,” Beca says wryly. “You know, I figured she’d start early, but I didn’t think it would be this early.”
Chloe sighs with weary tolerance, as if she’s heard it all before, more than once. She unfastens the straps of the toddler-sized car seat and lifts the baby out of it. Violet at first wraps her arms around her neck in an instant cuddle, but upon spotting Beca already turning to head toward the house, she shifts her allegiance. “Mama!”
“She wants you, Bec.” Chloe gives the baby a loud, robust kiss on the cheek before holding her out to relinquish. “That’s fine,” she tells Violet, pretending to be insulted. “I don’t want you anyway, you probably need to be changed.”
“Then I don’t want her either,” Beca jokes as she takes her.
“Too late!” Chloe says, completing the pass-off. She picks up the playpen that Beca now can’t carry and hoists it under one arm, keeping the diaper bag balanced on the other shoulder. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “Now we’re ready.”
We laugh at the artist,
Crazy enough to eat yellow paint,
In some desperate attempt at happiness,
Pretending there aren’t time in the middle of the night,
When we would be willing to do anything,
Just for some sense of joy,
Some semblance of normalcy,
A way to prove to ourselves that there is so much left to live for.
He ate that paint,
the same hue as his sunflowers,
To put that light inside himself,
But the colour of sunlight,
Wheat fields glowing golden in autumn,
Can’t chase out darkness,
Anymore than love can chase out hate.
I have to sleep in like 3 minutes but tome going cryptid hunting in the middle of the night and getting lost
i like the alien arc well ‘nough as just. something light and simple. the telepathy club actually set out to accomplish something, tome gave up on her dream only to be dragged back to it by those who inadvertently blew it out.
if for nothing else. the moeliens … have me in stitches every fucking time. i lost my god damn mind and will only continue to lose it from here on out.
The difference between my mindset at night and in the day is when I woke up last night at 4 and couldn’t stop thinking abt how if the multiverse is real then there’s a universe where movies like the grudge are real and then when I woke up this morning I thought about it again but this time “but then there’s also a universe where I’ve defeated it” came right after and like that would have NEVER occurred to me in the middle of the night dfngksb
Hi, I’m new to this fandom and what I’m going to post here
is going to be really controversial (I do tend to do that, don’t I?), but…
Please stop villainizing Jack Morrison to prop Gabriel Reyes
Please stop literally saying that Jack deserved what he got,
while implying that Gabriel was under appreciated and deserved none of the blame.
Please stop inventing reasons that make what Gabriel did
okay by making Jack incompetent, a poor leader, inconsiderate, or an arrogant
dick that only cared for fame, with said aspect(s) being Jack’s only real defining qualities. Besides Jack’s one-line ‘goodness’ that sometimes shows up once or twice and which apparently makes up for the fact that Jack is mostly bashed for the rest of the fic.
Please stop having Jack beg Gabriel for forgiveness with
Gabriel sanctimoniously granting said forgiveness and not apologizing himself,
because of course Jack is the cause of all of Gabriel’s suffering and Gabriel
never made poor choices that lead him to where he is or hurt Jack.
Basically, just please stop villainizing Jack Morrison to
prop Gabriel Reyes up.
Because if this keeps on, I’m probably gonna start either
bashing my head against a wall when I see another such fic, or write a fic
And considering my (non) writing capabilities that’s just
not gonna be pretty.
courf tends to wake up a lot in the middle of the night (especially if his mind was racing before he settled into bed) but ferre is always right there beside him to rub his back, kiss his nose, hold him close, and get him whatever he needs before they both doze off again, all snuggled up in bed
Four times Felicity chooses Oliver, and one defining time he chooses her.
This is definitely set in the future, I don’t think they’re quite canonically in this place yet. Also I just want to add that I wrote this before 2x14 came out so the shirt in the foundry thing was mine first okay? lol
Felicity grit her teeth as her head was roughly wrenched back by a hand in her hair.
“You will tell us what we want to know.”
For three hours she’d said nothing but that one syllable. For three hours she’d been questioned, slapped, had her head forced beneath icy water, but she hadn’t caved. She didn’t care what they did to her. She wouldn’t give him up.
She was shoved forward again, her knees crying out in protest as they once more hit the unforgiving concrete. She eyed the trough filled with water and ice cubes and took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. They wouldn’t kill her until she talked, and she was never going to talk.
She tried not to struggle as she was held under, knowing it would only drain her energy. But as her lungs burned, her body reacted instinctively and fought for survival. She was hauled up just as black spots began to dance before her eyes.
“Tell us who he is.”
It was three more hours before he arrived. She still hadn’t talked. Arrows were flying before she knew what was happening, and the masked men were dropping like flies around her. And then his large figure was bending over her, his hands reaching to cut the rope that bound her wrists and ankles.
The words tasted almost foreign on her tongue after saying only one for so many hours.
His hand was on her cheek, tilting her head so her eyes met his.
“I’m so sorry Felicity.” The turmoil was plain to see on his face and she hurried to reassure him.
“It’s not your fault. And I’m fine, really. I think I’ll be sticking to showers from now on though. Baths are no longer something I want any part of.” She tried to joke but it fell a bit flat, the exhaustion in her voice cancelling out any lightness in her words.
His brows pulled together and she could see the guilt warring in his eyes.
She went for genuine instead.
Letting her hand rest against his where it held her cheek she offered a small, but real smile.
“Thank you for coming.” She said softly.
He nodded, but clearly couldn’t bring himself to return the smile.
“Always. Now let’s get you the hell out of here.” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist to help her to her feet. “Can you walk?”
She nodded, but leaned into his comforting strength as they made their way outside.
Later, when she was warm and dry in the foundry, sipping a cup of sweet tea, he pulled a chair up beside hers and sat down, watching her quietly for a second before speaking.
“I wanted to say thank you.” He said, his voice low. “I wish you hadn’t been put through that, but… You’re constantly amazing me with how strong you are.” He sighed, his eyes drifting shut. “I always knew I could trust you with my secret, but you have to know how much I admire you, and how I grateful I am, for what you did today.”
Their eyes met for a moment, before he stood, his hand falling to squeeze her shoulder, lingering slightly longer than necessary before he walked away.
She smiled to herself. His trust meant the world to her. His secret meant the world to her. There had never been any question of giving him up. She would have endured whatever they’d thrown at her, because nothing was worth losing this. Their mission, their team, their partnership, was something she’d fight to protect, every time.
I’ve been hanging out in the Dragon Age: Inquisition fandom lately and it’s gotten me thinking about the way different queer people are treated. When the mod for the game came out to make everyone bisexual, there was a whole lot of caution (and probably some furor, but I’m not that deep into the fandom to have seen it) on how making a character like Dorian (a canon gay character) bisexual was a whole hell of a lot different from making Cassandra (a canon straight character) bisexual, because taking representation from one group to give to another was not the same thing as taking one from a group that has plenty of representation.
And I agree with that, it’s not the same. And making a canon gay character bisexual seems kind of “ennnghhh” to me because, you know, we need more canon gay characters!
But then I wonder if people would feel the same way about taking canon bisexual characters–for example, from Legend of Korra, with Korra and Asami–and saying they were actually lesbians and that’s totally okay because, hey, lesbians need more representation!
And it makes me both frustrated and really sad and kind of feel awful about myself because there are already so few bisexual characters (I mean, god, so many shows can’t even say the damn word, much less accept that some people really do like both, that one or the other isn’t a phase, that both are part of us), to take some away feels really awful.
But worst of all, it feels like I’m being told that being lesbian/gay is more important than bisexuality. That bisexuality (or biromantic or bi-however you are) is lesser, that it’s not queer enough (but, of course, it’s not straight enough, either) and it feels like being told all over again, no, you’re not part of the queer umbrella, go away, you’re not deserving enough to be here.
I’m sure some of this is my own issues, of course. But every time fandom seems really, really okay with taking bisexual characters away from me, it tells me all over again that, yeah, I’m not queer enough and that representation for me and all the years I spent struggling with accepting that I really do like both, is unimportant and meaningless.