in which maggie is actually quite happy with a thing she has done

You can't pacify them - Carl Grimes Imagine

WARNINGS: Slight Smut

[A/n:Thank you very much for the positive feedback and the followers! Enjoy!]

Isn’t it sad when you’re in a relationship with someone you think makes you happy and then that someone else comes along and just gives you all that you’ve ever wanted? Everything you ever longed for? Isn’t it wrong loving like this? Yet, whenever you’re around me, I can’t help but feel this way. All my doubts, all my hesitation.. You make all these feelings fade away, and I can’t bear the fact that I can’t touch you, I can’t kiss you, because I’m not allowed to. Because we are not allowed to love each other this way, because everything is in the way. My heart feels heavy, and all I want is to go someplace with you, a land where no one will gossip about us or judge us just because I love you. And every time we are together, the way you look at me, the way you breathe and act, it all shows that you feel the same. I’m tired of lying to myself, saying it’s just a stupid thought. Because you don’t go away, you don’t stop haunting my mind, even if I want you to. It hurts being this cruel. I want to let myself go. I want to let myself go with you. As selfish as it sounds, they are holding us back. Just kiss me for just a moment and, for just a second, let’s make ourselves forget about them.

Carl sat at the edge of his bed, feeling his heart ready to explode out of his chest. He couldn’t handle the feelings fighting inside of him, fogging his mind and blurring his logic. He loathed it, more than anything. He was with Enid, he should be happy. He must be happy. Right? Right?

No. The answer is no.

Enid had kissed him that day and he could feel himself be happy. She held his hand and he felt that this way love. He thought that this was love, the love that would cure him. But, as time passes, Carl only now realizes, he doesn’t know shit about love, real, pure love, the one that oozes out of someone’s heart. Now, Carl feels real love, and he hates it. ‘Why?’, you may ask. Because it made him feel so helpless, so vulnerable, because he couldn’t control himself. And he questions himself, swears at his own reflection and asks shakily every time, “Why her?”.

Because Enid is not her. The more he tried to force himself to feel like that, the more he strived to alter his feelings, it only grew stronger and wouldn’t release him. But why can’t she just be that person? Why can’t Enid just take that place, and then the problem is solved? Even if Carl clenched his jaws and balled up his fists, the veins in his neck vivid and standing out as he breathed hotly and raggedly, his knuckles bruised from knocking off items and breaking the hallway mirror, she wouldn’t become her.

He thought that if he just tried to feel that way toward her, that feeling would go away. It never did, and every night Carl would clamp his hands firmly around his pillow, delving his nails and teeth into it, muffling his ears and shielding his blue eye from the navy moonlight because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It tears him apart. The muscles in his face are tightened, his cheeks and ears scarlet, his chest thwacking and fluttering continuously. He can’t stop his thoughts, he can’t demand his brain to halt processing it over and over again; he can’t erase her glistening eyes, can’t stop hearing that laugh purling from her throat, can’t ignore the love and comfort she gives him whenever they are near, can’t stop thinking of how soft those lips would feel against his own– It is too much, it overwhelms him and Carl can’t breathe.

He crams his spinning head in his open palms, baring his teeth and desperately trying to calm the pounding within his fatigued chest. He tries to call out for anyone, cries out for help. He tries to exclaim to his girlfriend– to Enid – but his tongue is glued to the palate of his mouth and all that comes out is something hardly audible, something small and shaky, almost as if he’s ashamed to voice it.

  “..Y/n.”

Carl feels his face hot and pulsing; he gasps at his own, tiny word, his fingers towing at the roots of the long hair cascading down the sides of his flushed cheeks. He feels his sealed eye congest with tears, his shoulders quaking slightly as cold sweat seeps down the broad expansion of his back. He recalls the conversation he had with his father all those years ago, now feeling a bit calmer as he remembers Rick’s wise words.

“Son, be with the one who makes you happy. Don’t stay with someone just because you don’t want to hurt them; people move on, but you cannot stay alone and hopeless. You’re still small, Carl, but when they come in your life, you’ll know it. You’ll just know, because they will make you happy.”

Carl’s freckled nose twitched a little, and he shuffled next to the old Sherriff, staring off at the distance, where his father had his eyes pinned to. He gave a small scoff, lifting the hat on his hair which was too big for his fleecy head and fell in his face.

“How will I know, dad? I doubt I can even feel that way about someone else, much more them feeling special about me… Tough guys aren’t supposed to be vulnerable like that. You once said that it would make me feel helpless; I don’t like that. How am I supposed to protect you and mom if I feel like that?”

Rick gave a low chuckle at his son’s innocence and naivety. “Everyone goes crazy without having someone to love and someone to love them. Life then has no motive, you know? Weak people, tough people.. One day, Carl, mom and I will be gone, and it will be just you. I won’t be there to protect you. So, you have to be real careful about who you let in your life and who not. Leave the assholes out of it, keep the ones that make you happy in it, and you will be a man filled with joy. And choose the one that will stand by your side; trust your instincts and be with the one your heart tells you to. Because, only then you will find true happiness.”

Carl looks down at his hands, feeling a warm current of water trickle down his blushing cheek. “It’s not that easy, dad…” He whispers half-heartedly, lowering his head and staring at the grey floor. “She…She’s with someone else, too. I can’t just tell her how I feel, how much it tortures me… I’m with Enid, she’s with John… It just won’t work out, no matter how much I try. But, I.. I can’t just keep lying to Enid. I think she suspects something troubles me, dad… I-I don’t know what to do! I am so fucked up, this is such a mess…”

Carl breathes out slowly, lightly shaking his head. What the fuck is wrong with me? The young man heftily stands up, exuding a loud whoosh of air. Enid would be here any moment, now; they had organized something like a 'double-date’ and Carl gave a tedious groan. Oh, yeah, he was just dying to go. Especially since Y/n and John would be there. He couldn’t just stand the idea of them cuddling, kissing and hold hands in front of him. Enid then would feel all left out and cling on Carl’s arm, peppering small kisses all over the side of his face and mewling at him to kiss her. That’s how it always went, anyway. Carl wasn’t very fond of it; specifically doing that before people… and her and because…well, because when he pressed his lips to Enid’s he felt empty. It wasn’t that he hated it to the point he would be disgusted, no; Enid’s lips were always plump and soft and she kissed quite well… But, Carl just wasn’t feeling it. It wasn’t like kissing someone and actually feeling your knees buckle and your hands shake with excitement, nor was one of those gentle pecks where you would merely press your lips against all surfaces and feel satisfied and sated. It was just blank and dull, at the point where he’d pretend not to feel good at times, just to avoid it.

Carl almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the doorbell ring from downstairs. He felt a bit embarrassed; he was supposed to be fully clothed and ready, yet he was still merely in his boxers briefs. The young man scoffed, snatching the pair of trousers he wore daily and scurrying downstairs, trying to put on the jeans in the whole procedure, cursing and belching underneath his breath. Finally, Carl messily buckled his belt and tried to smooth his unkempt hair a bit, answering the door and peeking out shyly.

“Hey! Don’t tell me you’re still not ready…”

Carl averted his eyes awkwardly and cleared his throat, feeling his ears burn slightly as Enid slowly welcomed herself in, closing the door behind her. He slightly flinched once her palms made contact with his bare chest, shuffling back a bit. Enid gave him her sweet smile, grinning broadly as she leaned up, toward him.

“I missed you.” She muttered, nuzzling his nude collarbone and sighing softly against his skin. Carl’s throat clamped as the girl slightly strained her neck to reach his face, her lips pressing against his own into a light kiss. She pulled back with a smile, giggling at Carl’s cute, confused face. Before the boy could utter a word, she grabbed his hand, tugging him toward her.

“Come on, lazy! Get ready, they’re waiting for us!”

*

“What do you think is taking them so long?”

Y/n lifted her head and considered John’s question. His tone was, of course, bothered and her boyfriend was evidently bored. Carl and Enid hadn’t taken that long, but she didn’t blame him; he always got mad at the little things, the ones that weren’t crucial. She hesitantly reached over and touched the boy’s hand, knowing all too well that John was going to get quite angry if someone didn’t soothe his nerves. The fingers curling around her hand were rough and calloused, slightly comforting, but they would be much more pleasant if they belonged to another soul.

Y/n loved John. She did, but she wasn’t sure anymore. The young man was so sweet and kind in the near past, yet had grown into a very lewd and brash adult. Y/n’s heart drops in her stomach as she recalls him bringing her a withered daisy when they were younger, yet it was the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for her. She had hoped their relationship would have gotten further than this. John was starting to ask her about having sex, and the girl wasn’t very fond of the idea. It just did not feel right, to open up to him. He was a very possessive and was one of these men that wanted to do everything rough, just to show how 'virile’ they are and conceal their deep insecurities. Y/n didn’t like the sound of that, especially because she knew what kind of person John grew into. She gave it a try one time, but she despised the way he touched her, the vulgar way he spoke and stopped in the middle of it all. At least she maintained her dignity.

Y/n’s breath hitched once she felt John’s large palm groping her thigh, and she looked down, visibly uncomfortable. She brought her hand and gave a threatening squeeze, her fingers folding all the way and slightly hurting him. John scoffed from beside her, but didn’t say anything. He merely removed his hand, pressing his cheek on the heel of his palm until it plumped out. He blew a raspberry, patently turned-off by his girlfriend’s resistor. “You’re such a fucking mood killer.” He said with a grunt, his sordid words stinging a bit more than they should.

“Guess who’s coming.” Muttered John with a snort, making a spiteful face as he saw Carl and Enid approaching them in the old shed. “Good ol’ Carl.”

“I don’t get why you don’t like Carl, John… He’s very sweet and kind and he cares about his friends.” Y/n smiled at herself a little, her ears burning with slight embarrassment as she realized how charming the Sheriff’s son was. I’m talking like this is some kind of shitty, melodramatic love-story, she thought quietly to herself as she fidgeted with her fingers and let out a small chuckle. Yet she retained her feelings, much to her great shame.

“How you guys doin’?” Greeted John with a wide, confident grin. “Woah, Carl, your hair’s a fucking mess. Were you two doing some freaky stuff or some shit like that?”

Enid gave a small laugh and shook her head, taking a seat across John and shaking her head. “Nah. Carl just sleeps late and doesn’t get up until it’s noon.”

Carl looks a little uneasy as he perches beside her, clearing his throat as he shows a tiny smile. The thick Adam’s apple in his freckled throat bobs as he gulps down tensely, a trickle of bleak sweat lathering the side of his milky neck.

“I don’t sleep until noon…” crooned the young man bashfully, sending a knowing glare to Enid’s way, one which she paid absolutely no heed to. Carl fell silent as Enid and John began chatting, laughing loudly and spewing jokes here and there. The old boy’s breathing quickened once he felt a gentle prod on his knee; something was touching him beneath the little table they had set, and a little voice in his mind whispered to him that he was going to like who the daring touch was from. Carl swallowed down nervously and looked up, watching as Y/n showed him a sheepish smile. The young man felt his heart calm a little bit, his stomach fluttering as blood rushed somewhere else. Carl breathed out mutely, unable to neglect the sensation as he momentarily closed his porcelain eye.

Oh, dear God.

Y/n hadn’t meant to cause that kind of reaction, but Carl’s flaming body couldn’t tame itself. It needed just a tad of stimulation, and that light touch from her was enough to set his lower body on fire. Carl blew out a hot exhale as she slowly retrieved her hand, thankfully, and gave him a small smile. “You alright?” She questioned as a dell, rippling laugh flew from her throat. The young man strongly resisted the intense notion of literally delving his hand beneath the table and probing between her thighs. “Yeah,” he managed hoarsely, with a shaky laugh. “Never been better.”

*

John and Enid had said that they were exhausted as the night grew full of laughs, congested with lively conversations. The two had gone to their homes, yawning as they told their partners a sincere 'Goodnight’ and left. They were in their beds, now, fatigued and cramped from laughing at the dirty jokes Carl had told.

Oh, boy, was the atmosphere heavy, now.

Carl could feel her as she breathed, her body slightly shuffling from beside him. She was so close, so deliciously close, but he couldn’t touch her. He wasn’t allowed to. Whenever his hands presumed on their own, he brought them right back, gluing them to his body. Y/n was talking, her voice now incredibly soft, as if he could touch it and feel feathers tickle his fingers.

“John is very… forward, at times. And very rough. It’s not like he hits me, no, he actually hasn’t lied a hand on me, in that matter. He’s not, like, a bad person… but he isn’t good either. You get me?” Y/n gazed down at her tangled hands, feeling lost on words. She was unsure if it was the right thing to share her personal feelings with Carl; she was afraid that he might make fun of her, or pity her, or just know her weak spots from then on, a thing which is never good. She didn’t like to feel vulnerable with anyone; it was like that person was just holding her in their hand like a stale bread crump, one that could smother into smithereens if they closed their hand and decided to destroy it.

“I get you,” replied Carl softly. He knew all things regarding consolation, and when it came to that point in his life, he knew exactly what to do. Well, most of times, anyway. He had comforted so many people, had listened to their problems and soothed their pain, as best as he could. It was never easy, because people needed different kinds of comfort, all from different people; yet Carl was one. Not much of a talker, but a great listener, always. “Enid can be pretty nasty, sometimes, too. Sometimes she yells at me a lot, says very bad things to me, which make me feel very.. awful about myself, y'know? I feel like I haven’t quite found the person who will… stand by my side, as my dad used to say. Because you just feel these things, right? When the right person comes along then… you just understand.”

Y/n considered Carl’s wise words for a moment, but said nothing. She reached a conclusion; She wasn’t happy, because she wanted someone else and it was killing her; tormenting her that he was right beside her body and she couldn’t have him. Only for herself, even if it sounded purely selfish.

“Maybe we are the wrong couples…” joked Y/n with a nervous laugh, her heart thumping dangerously in her chest when she realized what she just said. It only made matters worse, and she averted her eyes, feeling heat crawling up her neck and sending a shiver down her back. There was a dead silence, one which made her heart tremble like a little fish flopping out its waters. “I-I’m joking, of course! Ha-ha…” Her voice burst out suddenly, her eyes cast upon the floor as she breathed out heavily, toying around with her fingers and tugging at them with her fingernails. She sighed and shook her head, biting down at her lower lip.

  “..Carl.”

What am I supposed to say? That I want someone like you? That I want you? Please, say something… I knew I shouldn’t have said this stupid shit! He probably thinks I’m a freak or some shit like that… But, I don’t care. I just… Come on, Carl… I’m too much of a pussy; Please, kiss me. Let’s just forget about them for a moment and just let ourselves go… I just want to forget everything.. Make me forget. Can’t you see that I’m crazy for you? Can’t you see that I love you? Don’t actually… It’ll just make things weirder.

Y/n almost gasped aloud when she felt a sturdy grasp around her arm, her eyes glistening like pearls when she turned and looked. Carl’s fervent, blue iris was staring at her with vehemence, and he seemed serious, his lips pressed tightly together in a fine line as he leered down at her. His look of ardor made her feel small and helpless, and her heart pitter-pattered beneath her ribs like a jackhammer. Her hand dared and brushed against his knuckles, and her breath hitched as he slowly neared her face, searching for any signs of revulsion; but found none.

Her eyes grew heavier and she got closer desperately, breathing raggedly as she viewed his fleshy lips. “Carl.” She almost whined, swathing her arms around him and hotly pressing their mouths together. She exuded an indignant mewl against him, feeling a large wave of relief carrying her body when he fervently kissed her back. Y/n felt light-headed in Carl’s embrace, shuddering bodily when he lowly moaned against her undulating lips. Her heart pulsed in a lively rhythm, pleased that it got what it had craved for, for so long. The young man immured her with his zealous kisses, his thick brows slanted together as he braced one hand against her neck, holding her jaw and lower cheek within his warm palm. Her fingers delved gently against his scalp, caressing the tendrils of his wavy mane and slightly hauling at the roots.

When they let the kiss loose, they breathed in small gasps, foreheads tightly pressed together as they let each other regain their composure for a moment. It is so wrong, but feels so right, so good. Why do the pleasing things must always be wrong? Yet at the moment, none of the two could afford to care, because they were finally together, twined at the souls.

Y/n could feel the warm rivulet of a tear bursting against her skin and slowly lathering her cheek; She had never felt loved like this, she had felt whole like this. Was love really such a sinful crime? If it was, they were certainly criminals; partners in crime, because both of them got such a burning satisfaction while committing it. Their desperate hands the needle of the pen, their swollen lips the death sentence.

When his lips assaulted her neck, she felt heady, intoxicated. She would let him do anything to her, and didn’t mind in the least. She felt her pearly eyes sting with happy tears; raindrops of pure glee. Because, fuck, how can a person feel happier?

“I love you,” He whispered against the smooth lope of her neck, the skin there flushed from the former invasion of his passionate lips. And as he slowly lowered her on the small sofa below them, he knew; nothing could spoil this moment, nothing. She didn’t struggle, she didn’t squirm in discomfort; she just went along with the flow of his movements, accepting anything he had to give her, to show her.

Carl soothed her pain as he kissed her, tasting the bitter palate of pure zest mingled with fright, his tongue gently seeking out her own. Y/n felt dizzy as she cradled his head within her handfuls, feeling the slight hesitation and ache of the body pressed against her own, all of it bundling around their tormented love. Feeling loved felt so good. Being with the one you want, even if they aren’t the prettiest, the tallest, the most talented, but just them. And it hurt, because once this night was over, they would have to live reality again, next to people they didn’t love; Because, they can’t make them stop, they can’t make them stop.

  Because they can’t pacify them.

His tongue felt so sweet, his hands like lace and his taste bittersweet. Because they didn’t want to stop, because they refused to stop. Y/n could feel Carl’s hands tugging at her robes; the sound of clothing rustling was too evident, he wanted to get rid of it. He only wanted to listen to the sound of her skin, gliding smoothly against his own. But, Carl knew that they couldn’t, not tonight. He wouldn’t risk a thing, but he would take care of her, because you never leave a lady waiting; if you’re a man, you will find your way. And he did, he found the way. It was dirty and naughty, and Carl’s cheeks felt hot only thinking about it, but he would do it; Because he wanted to, she wanted to, they wanted to.

Y/n could feel her body being on fire; she felt the gentle prod of that unmistakable swelling between his thighs and felt hazy, her mouth watering at all the inappropriate notions spilling within her mind. She let his gruff hands rid of the trousers covering her lower half, her legs quivering with anticipation as each of them slowly bared themselves to him. Y/n breathed out a low oath when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her chest, where the fabric of her blouse had slightly descended and displayed the naked skin beneath. She gently caressed his hair as he briefly sucked on a soft bit of flesh, feeling a knurl in her throat when his fingers looped beneath her knickers and presumed to glide the cotton material down her legs.

She emitted a shaky breath, her body arching a little once he brought his hand and gently caressed the dark patch of wild curls between her legs, his nostrils flaring as he took in the sight. Because, fucking hell. He carefully rubbed lower with the pads of his fingers, cautious not to apply much pressure anywhere where it could hurt. Y/n’s shoulder blades protruded as her body tensed, his antics making her supple skin birth gooseflesh. It felt oddly pleasant; being touched like this. She gulped down nervously, her neck lightly trembling when the peak of his digit found her entrance, lightly teasing the sensitive, virgin petals, which immediately clamped down at the sensation. Carl must have seen them twitch, because he began breathing heavily, the air coming harshly out of his nose.

“Carl..” She said it like a prayer, almost a warning as her chest fluttered rhythmically with the pounds of her heart.

When Carl gently spread the nether lips apart, he bowed his head, his tongue broadly ghosting over the delicate flesh. It was then when her thighs tried to close and she cried out softly, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations licking up and down her body. Carl gently held them apart, continuing his delicious torture; intrigued by the way her body reacted to it. His pink tongue meekly licked at the small nub protruding, almost challenging him and inviting him closer, and Y/n’s hips twitched up zealously, her voice tattered as she tried to speak, but failed as the breathtaking sensations took over her bucking body, making the muscles in her abdomen contort.

The evening was blurry and filled with lewd noises, and at the end, the small sofa in the shed was soaked and Carl’s lips and chin were glistening with her arousal. She cried out toward the ceiling, grasping the back of his head and clasping her hand to her chest, her face distorting and flushing with red and her lips parted as she frantically tried to breathe. It seemed that hours had passed when Carl at last stopped, his mouth covered in the dew she released when she came. And when she finally did, she called out his name, as if he would soothe her, as if he would caress and stroke her body.

The young man flashed a toothy grin, running his soft tongue over his lips and swallowing the remnants of the strong-flavored liquid. He chuckled as she gave him a knowing look, her mouth cutely pursed into a pouty frown. Carl pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled, letting her take his stubbly jaw into her palms and kiss him. He giggled softly when she made a face at the taste his lips had from the sticky intercourse prior, but grinned sleepily and reposed her head against his chest.

For once, it all didn’t seem so bad. They rested for a while, then Carl aided Y/n to get dressed, and they exchanged a little kiss before they went their separate ways, to separate homes. When they got home, they couldn’t help the big, silly grins taking over their flushed faces and went to their beds, because that night was certainly quite tiring. They didn’t have to live forced anymore. Because, hell, they could live their lives as they decided. And they decided to live it together. Because they didn’t give a damn about what anyone would say, and because finally they were free and hand in hand.

Because, together, they could pacify them.

Still Beating (Part 7)

For previous parts click here. Thanks for reading. x

Harry drove me to Evan’s dorm and helped me load up my possessions into his trunk. My stomach churned as he drove to his apartment. I was surprised at just how close it is to campus. It’s a slightly longer walk than the furthest dorm but of course Harry and Niall both drive everywhere. Niall isn’t there when we arrive, and I internally breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t feel emotionally stable enough to meet someone new right now.

“So, this is it,” Harry says as we step into his apartment.

Holding my breath, I walk into a dimly lit space with dark wood furniture and burgundy paint. It’s simply decorated, and surprisingly clean. There’s not many homey touches in the open space, just two couches that form an L-shape around the TV, a kitchen with a stainless steel fridge, a stove and a small table.

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anonymous asked:

Can I please ask for a Jesus/Daryl one (smutty?) along with Tara/Daryl friendship. I just love the idea of a great friendship between them.

“Hey man,” Tara held her fist out to Daryl.

He nodded at her and bumped knuckles with her, moving over so she could sit beside him. Technically he wasn’t supposed to be on watch, but he was dead nervous and bored out of his mind, so at least he was putting his eyes to use here. 

The war was over, but it also never was. Just because Negan was dead that didn’t mean his people weren’t lurking around waiting to get them back. There was peace, but it was a fragile thing, and Daryl was always on guard in case it would be broken. 

Tara handed him an offering of jerky. He took a small piece and popped it in his mouth before he scrunched up his nose.

“Tastes like shit,” he told her.

“Hey,” She said in defense. “It’s the apocalypse. Why are you up here anyway?”

“Waitin’”

“For?”

“Somethin’”

Tara chuckled. “I’ll tell you, man, you really haven’t gotten more vocal in all this time I’ve known you.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Why’re you here?” He countered.

“To relieve you.”

“Don’t need to—”

“Jesus is here.” Tara was smirking at him knowingly, not making any effort to hide it as she watched Daryl tense with those words. 

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anonymous asked:

Happy prompt: war is over, mon el is yeeted back to wherever the fuck, sanvers go on vacation

After weeks of rebuilding National City, of burying the rubble of the past year while picking up their pieces of their home and defending their decisions all the way up to the Oval Office, Maggie and Alex were both forced to take some overdue leave by their superiors. And, as it turns out, Maggie was right, during that thing with Malvern. They did disagree on their first vacation. Maggie wanted snow, the one thing she actually missed from bumfuck, Nebraska. Where they were going to find snow this time of year on the combined budgets of a cop and a fed were anyone’s guess, a fact which Alex, who hated snow, was quick to point out.

Maggie was only half kidding when she asked about the Fortress of Solitude, because snow and alien tech?

“There’s no central heating, Mags,” Alex says, and that is the end to that, because honestly, who wants to go on vacation with their smoking hot girlfriend where no one can take their clothes off without losing a tit to frostbite?

Hawaii is Alex’s suggestion. Or really, they could save money and stick close to home, get a rental near Midvale and mooch food off her mother. She wants the sun, and the sand, and the waves. She wants to face down her fear of water in a place with no walls, no pipes, and no drains.

Maggie, quite frankly, cannot handle the thought of Alex panicking in the waves, out where Maggie isn’t a strong enough swimmer to reach her. It’s hard enough every morning, watching Alex struggle with the fastest showers known to man, the giant puddles from the shower door they removed the day she came home.

They compromise. Disney World, because at least it’s a ten minute trip for the overprotective Space Dad and alien sister rather than the thirty-five seconds it would take them to get to Disneyland because Alex screamed too loud.

Alex blushes hard when Maggie uses that argument. But she relents, letting Maggie plan their vacation on the condition that they spring for business class because Maggie might be short but Alex has legs, thank you.

Maggie may have forgotten to mention that she planned their trip to coincide with Orlando’s Gay Days. That she splurged on tickets for all the Disney parks but not Sea World, because between the glass walls of the attractions and a now distant rant about the ratio of pool to orca, she felt that might be pushing it.

Instead, she leaves the first day open for an exploration of the city and the events. She watches Alex’s wonder at the Gay Days Expo, her eyes taking in all of the facets of the culture she was still, slowly, immersing herself in.

(Maggie sees Alex’s eyes linger on the Leather/Fetish expo and makes a note to bring her back when they’re done exploring the more family friendly events of the week.)

They splurge even more on Fast Passes for every day they visit the Holy House of Mouse, riding every ride and buying the photos of them on Space Mountain even though Alex complained the entire time that her legs were jammed up against the seat in front of her.

They send photos to Kara and the Space Fam them with Stitch and Mickey and every other character they can find. Alex fights Gaston for Maggie’s honor with a foam sword for a 30 second video that Maggie plans to save for their wedding reception. There’s a photo of them in matching mouse ears that’s going straight for the fridge when they get home.

At night, Maggie laughs at the realization that, as much as she felt bad in the moment for calling her out, Alex really was a hopeless lesbian. Every number she got while Maggie was off at the bar getting more drinks was either a new “friend” offering to “teach her” or some professional wanting to “network” with an FBI agent.

Maggie may have collected all the napkins and business cards and trashed them at the end of the night. Alex may have noticed, but she didn’t say anything, preferring to show Maggie how much she loved her and how grateful she was they survived.

They may have woken up later than intended every day because of it.

When they finally returned to National City, it was with a bag full of souvenirs (not all of them appropriate for the family dinner), photos, and stories of their adventures.

Kara and Winn make them promise to take them next time.

They walk through the door of Alex’s apartment before she remembers to make Maggie promise not to book it for Gay Days, because that fetish expo is one thing she refuses to explain to her alien sister.

I’m just gonna go on a semi long rant about the recent spoilers. So for those who didn’t read them or don’t believe them (more power to you, but there’s too many signs hinting at them being true for me to ignore them) i’ll put this under a cut.

I also intend to repost this after episode 3x05 has aired.


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Risking life for high quality drama

“He was coming at me with an axe,” fame is supposed to have its price but not quite like the dramatic/humorous story Rob James-Collier who plays underbutler Thomas Barrow.

When asked where the most unusual place he has been recognised is, Rob answers without hesitation: “Homebase. I was buying a bit of 4 x 2 plywood, geezer’s come over, skinhead. I thought: ‘Here we go, it’s going off’. He’s got an axe in his hand. I didn’t know at the time Homebase sold axes, I thought he was coming at me with an axe. It turns out he was a huge fan of the show and he was buying the axe because it was reduced. He had a wood-burning stove and he was simply buying the axe to chop his wood and he wanted to come over to say he liked the job I did on the show.

“I’ve misread the situation, gone into karate stance. Well lets it this way, one way or another: I took the axe off him.”

Laughing beside the actor previously known for playing Liam Connor in Coronation Street is Dublin actor Allen Leech whose answer to the same question, which includes a taxi driver jumping out his car to say hello outside Jakarta Airport, can’t compete.

Rob asks Allen: “Did he have an axe?”

“No,” Allen answers.

“Thank God for that,” Rob concludes.

Although there was no axe involved, Rob says he put himself in serious danger in the filming of the first episode of the forthcoming series where it is his character Tom that rescues Lady Edith from a fire in her room. Although Allen laughs while he tells another dramatic story: “There was one take where I wasn’t allowed to go over it when it was at full height for insurance, which he (Allen) is alluding to, but there were times when it was at a candle’s height and I stepped over those flames, yes me, and then I stepped back over them with Laura Carmichael who plays Lady Edith. It was exhilarating. It was close, the closest to death I’ve ever been to. My ankle got singed on one take but I just thought I’ll carry on. Why? Because we’re making high quality drama.”

It is obvious from the moment you meet them that Rob and Allen are very much the jokers in the pack. No laughing matter is the situation of Rob’s character Thomas is homosexual which rules out any possibility of his happiness as he is forced to deny himself: “I think what we see is him finally confronting the fact that he’s been outed. He was actively trying to pursue the life of a homosexual male, more power to him, very modernistic. But society is gradually wearing him down and this year we see him reflect on himself and think: ‘Can I ever truly be happy? I can’t do this anymore so what am I going to do?’ It’s quite a sad story, hopefully well played.”

Conniving and vindictive, it is this inner conflict that goes a long way to explaining why Thomas is like he is: “Society has condemned him. Society has said he is twisted and a freak of nature so he’s not going to have a nice attitude towards society because he’s done nothing wrong and yet he’s condemned. He projects society’s hatred back towards society and that’s why he’s alienated and that’s why he’s an outsider and that’s why he is the way he is. Quite rightly, I think. I can’t blame him for it anyway. I can empathise, I hope people will this year.


Rob James-Collier in character

“He openly told him (footman Jimmy Kent) he loved him and Jimmy said, ‘I can never be what you want me to be’, and we have a lovely scene where Tommy says: ‘I accept that, can we at least be friends?’ So he’s already exposed himself. When someone tells you to your face that they could never love you, you know you’ve got to give up the ghost. What we see (in this series) is Thomas’s nice side in that he is willing to forego his feelings and help Jimmy get into bed with Lady Anstruther, and there’s just that moment when Jimmy goes, that you see Thomas wishing it was him Jimmy was coming to. What a lovely thing for him to do.”

Rob’s character was originally only meant to survive one series. Could he have ever foreseen that it would still be going strong? “We would have been pretty big headed if we had actually thought this was going to happen. We’re still talking about his show five years later, new regions like China are watching it now. Of course we are massively surprised.

“We have to go to America in December to promote it. They love our history, they’re fascinated with that anyway. Hollywood royalty is in it. Dame Maggie Smith has not been on any British telly for thirty years yet she chose this show to come back. They (Americans) want to know why Dame Maggie Smith is in this show, it must be good. Julian Fellowes, Oscar-winning writer: Why has he written this? That’s what tuned them in because of the subject matter as well.

“If there’s one thing Julian does well, it’s class, that’s his bag. The Americans are obsessed with it, ergo it has a chance even with the significant drag factor of both mine and Allen’s performances dragging the show down, it still had enough buoyancy to get up there. I’m fishing for a compliment there for both of us, don’t leave me hanging.”

When it is raised, Rob takes the opportunity to clear up an earlier misquotation. A publication quoted Rob, who never attended drama school and worked as a labourer before finding fame, as saying it was harder for working class actors to get a break: “I was misquoted, that was taken out of context, taken to the press complaints commission and all subsequent articles pulled off. Never happened. It’s really unusual for the press to take someone out of context and misquote, isn’t it? Those things were never said. I’m sorry to disappoint.”

But Rob doesn’t appear to be one bit wary of the press despite the experience: “No, have you seen me going around here? We’ve been giving nothing but love to the tables, made you laugh, I proposed at the last table. That’s anything but wary, that’s needy if you ask me. I came across needy.

“Not at all, why blame the rest of the press for one person’s misdemeanours? That’s the way I look at it.”

A joking Rob later reveals what it really takes to get ahead in the business when high profile actors who have failed to land Downton parts are mentioned: “You know what their problem was? They didn’t sleep with the right people. I did. Thanks for getting me in the show.”

Rob lifts his hand for Allen Leech to give him a high five. “Thanks for sleeping with me,” says Allen.

There has been a lot of press about the new child actors playing including the one playing Allen Leech’s screen daughter Sybil who he has described entertaining. Asked if Rob also helps keep the kids amused, Allen answers: “He’s useless.”

Rob retorts with mock indignance: “They’re not my kids. They’re not my on screen kids, nothing to do with me.”

Allen reveals: “Sometimes I see them lovingly come up, tug on his coat tails and he’ll literally flick them off, send them careering across the room.”

Rob concludes: “You’re not in my character’s storyline ergo, do one.”

Rob is immensely proud of his Irish connections: “My mother’s Irish, she’s from Donegal right at the top Buncrana-way to be specific. I used to go over every year as kids and I still go over every couple of years, see some of the family and hang out there. I love it, it’s beautiful over there.”

Downton Abbey returns to ITV at 9pm on September 21.