@jemily Happy, happy, happy birthday, my darling. You deserve all the best things, and you deserve to be celebrated: I am so proud of you for being you! Here’s to you and here’s to an incredible year ahead <3 <3 <3
Here, have two birthday fics I’ve already written, and one made special for you on your special day!
She forgets to eat when she’s stressed, and she forgets the day of the week when her shifts tend to bleed into each other.
Some years – years like this, years with Jeremiah and Cadmus and Rick Malverne and coming out, god, falling in love – she forgets her own birthday.
Maggie nudges Kara in the bar a few nights before Alex’s birthday.
“She hasn’t said anything about it, you know. Her birthday. I only know because it was on the forms we had to fill out with Pam down in HR. Does Alex not like her birthday or something? I don’t want to upset her if I – “
“No, no no no, Alex loves her birthday. Eliza always makes a big thing out of it, and I think it was the only time Alex felt like she was the center of things…” Kara trails off, adjusting her glasses and guilt flashing over her face.
Maggie hesitates before touching her shoulder, and Kara leans into her touch, a small smile on her face. She may still be getting used to sharing Alex’s love with someone – with trusting someone with Alex’s heart, with Alex’s soul, with Alex’s body – but she is getting used to it. Slowly. But it’s happening.
“Were you thinking of doing something for her?”
Maggie shrugs and takes a swig of her root beer, leaning over the bar counter and watching Alex laugh with James and Winn at the pool table.
“Sure, I have some ideas. But I don’t know what traditions you guys have, and I didn’t want to impose or wreck anything for you all, you know?”
Kara smiles, and it’s genuine, because Maggie’s making it easier by the day to like her. To trust her.
“Kara! Maggie! Come back, Winn has no shot with you on his team!”
“Hehe, Winn having a shot. Nice work, Alex!”
“Oh my god, you guys, leave me alone. Kara! Maggie! Come back!”
Maggie and Kara lean into each other when they laugh, and as they stroll over to the pool table, Kara whispers to Maggie to meet her for lunch at Noonan’s tomorrow.
To plan for Alex’s birthday.
And plan, they do.
Because Alex might have forgotten her own birthday – or maybe she’s just not saying anything about it because she assumes everyone else has forgotten and doesn’t want to impose – but her family sure hasn’t.
Because when Alex gets home late a few days later, her apartment is crammed with the people she loves most.
Kara has somehow wrangled J’onn into a party hat, and James is laughing behind his camera, and Winn and Lucy are whooping as Kara giggles and claps when Maggie pulls her into her arms, Alex eagerly parting her lips for Maggie’s tongue, tugging Maggie closer, closer, both of them slightly off-balance, caught between laughing and crying and kissing, until Lucy shouts, “My god, you two, you’re gonna give J’onn a coronary, can you wait until we all go home?”
They part breathless with lust and breathless with laughter, and Kara bursts into Alex’s arms.
“Happy birthday, Alex,” she whispers into her ear, and Alex squeezes her tight, squeezes her close, close, close.
“You didn’t have to do this, Kara,” she says, because even though there are candles in a dozen donuts – like they do every year for her birthday – and even though the Bare Naked Ladies are blasting through the apartment – like they do every year on her birthday – she’d thought everyone forgot this year.
Hell, she almost had.
And she had so much blood on her hands this year – so very much blood – that she didn’t think anyone would find her worth celebrating, anyway.
But James does, gifting her with a photospread of her and Maggie in different stages of their relationship.
And Winn does, presenting her ceremonially with a specially-designed thigh holster for her alien gun.
And Lucy does, grinning from ear to ear as she gives her a lesbian sex handbook and a pair of handcuffs that makes Kara groan, Maggie gulp and bring her hand to her lips, and J’onn wish his newest daughter thought much more quietly.
And J’onn does, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he gives her a letter – because to write things down is to truly, truly say them – calling her his daughter, telling her how proud he is of her, telling her that nothing makes him happier than her happiness, telling her that he loves her, now more than ever.
And Kara does, squeezing her close as she gives her an entire array of gifts, ranging from a new set of medical gadgets from Caitlin Snow to a painting Kara made herself of Alex and Maggie cuddling on Kara’s couch. Alex cries, and Maggie isn’t far behind.
And Maggie does – love her, god, love her, think she’s worth celebrating, every single day and night and all the times in between – nervously presenting her with her tickets to their first hockey game, a handwritten card talking about love and need and joy and hope, and a dog collar with the name Gertrude engraved on it.
Alex weeps and she laughs and she weeps some more, and she doesn’t stop celebrating with her family until long after midnight, until long after her birthday is, technically, over.
But none of them stop celebrating her, stop laughing with her, stop taking turns holding her, because it doesn’t matter what day it is: Alex Danvers is always, always, always worth celebrating.
So I want a lot in life but what I REALLY want is a duet/collab of Ziam and I want it soon. Like. I dunno but have you HEARD their angelic voices combined on a live version of Summer Love??? HAVE YOU. I didn't know how much I ADORED that song until someone gently suggested I listen to it (them) and then curl up in the dark and weep and weep and weep some more
WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME ON A MONDAY AND IN THIS ECONOMY NO LESS
The majestic range display at 2:15 and the falsetto at 2:30 OH GOD
Listen, I’m equally parts the most ready anyone could ever be for a Ziam collab, but also worried that I would go into cardiac arrest before I could finish making the iTunes transaction.
A few things about that scene in tonight’s Vikings, now that I’ve had a bit of time to gather my thoughts:
It had been bothering me all season long that Ragnar’s obviously very genuine baptism at the end of season 3 had been all but forgotten. But now it all makes sense. It’s not about Christian or Pagan. It’s not about Odin or Jesus or Heaven or Valhalla. For Ragnar it is simply a matter of faith. And what was Athelstan if not the embodiment of faith in Ragnar’s eyes? Ragnar’s faith absolutely died with Athelstan.
Literally once he survived Paris and went on living back home, it was as a faithless man. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Athelstan in his Heaven once more. It’s that he has lost the ability to allow himself to believe such a place could even exist.
“Athelstan was a man of God.” “And he still died.” Ragnar has lost so many people, and his belief in Gods or an afterlife has never hinged on death. For him death was not a defeat, only a new beginning. Athelstan’s death well and truly stripped him of his faith to the core.
So what is he left with if not an eternity in the afterlife with his beloved? Well, seeing the only piece of Athelstan left on this Earth in the form of his only son certainly seemed to bring Ragnar more joy than anything has since the last time he gazed upon Athelstan’s living face.
Like I just genuinely feel that seeing Alfred was an essential thing for him before his death. To know some part of Athelstan will go on living. That is a victory for Ragnar in itself.
Anyway I do think it’s rlly interesting that they had Ecbert pose the question of which afterlife Athelstan landed in upon his death. I, like Ragnar, have little faith left at this point, but wouldn’t it be lovely if they give us some sign that the two of them will be reunited on the other side after all…
Also props to Michael Hirst for at least acknowledging that Ragnar’s downfall and wish for death did indeed spring from Athelstan’s death. In every way that counts, they died together. Ragnar could never get past the burden of such a loss, and everything since then has been in the hopes of ending it all.
I’m still trying to unpack all of my thoughts and feelings and various interpretations from the finale, and also reconcile those with what Bryan has said to be his intent with how this all played out. Some of those interpretations match up with the word of god, some of them do not at all, but I think all of them are equally valid and can coexist alongside one another at once. Mostly I think it’s clear that even Will wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted or what he was doing, and I feel just as conflicted about what the one “true story” is as he likely did.
One thing is for certain though, even if Will’s plan in the beginning was to kill Hannibal, or to watch Dolarhyde kill Hannibal, once the moment came he simply couldn’t do it. He said these words to Reba earlier in the episode about her relationship with Dolarhyde, and he understood more than anyone precisely what it meant to be in love with a man with a freak on his back. And I think somewhere along the way Will realized there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do to make himself stop loving Hannibal.
Maybe he wanted him to die, maybe he wanted to run away with him from the beginning and was playing everyone including Hannibal himself, maybe he simply wanted to have just one more moment with him and whatever happened after would be just fine. Maybe he knew they would kill Dolarhyde together and it would be everything Hannibal ever wanted. Maybe Will wanted to give that to him. Wanted to give that to them. Maybe it was all of these at once. I think that is far more likely. Nothing with Will Graham is ever simple or straightforward. Nothing is ever always right or always wrong.
It’s not easy when you know the one person who understands you – every part of you, all your light and dark, all your good and bad, all your best and worst – is someone commonly referred to as a monster. It’s not easy when you see him and he sees you and you’re both laid bare before each other and you know that you will never connect with another person ever again in the way you have with him. You tried to live without him, you really, truly did, but you discovered that you were only lying to yourself. There was never any living without him. Only standing still. Waiting.
And you fear that it will ruin all your good, that his dark will sap your light, but he is magnetic and you are both somehow just alike and you look into his eyes and you know everything he wants to say to you, and he knows everything you want to say to him. He sees right through you. You see right through him.
It’s not easy, but that’s love for you. More often than not it is illogical and stubbornly devoted despite all your knowledge and foresight. You know it’s going to hurt. You know it’s going to ruin you. You want it anyways. And sometimes you want nothing more than to purge yourself of it desperately. Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them. Can’t conceive of an existence where you exist and they do not. After a while mutual destruction seems to be the only option.
Whatever Will was thinking when he sent them tumbling into the Atlantic, I don’t think it can ever be entirely narrowed down to one thing. Maybe he was terrified of how peaceful he felt, bathed in the blood of their slaughter, knowing he would always want for it to be that way, the two of them and their beautiful chaos. Maybe he couldn’t picture a more perfect end for the two of them, clinging to one another in the night. Or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. Maybe he just simply let go and hoped for the best. Or the worst. Or whatever.
He couldn’t kill him, and he couldn’t watch him die, but maybe if they only tumbled into a new life – or a certain death – together, anything that came after would be just fine.
And another bc I'm full of ideas: "These scars remind us that our love is not kind, it is rough and complicated. But they also show that we have always grown past that, we have healed our hearts, our bodies, and our souls. And they show that, like skin, you can separate us, but we will always come together again."
*weeps some more*
Charles thinks about that a lot.
He read it in a book of poetry and prose, when he was fifteen or sixteen. (Raven used to beat up any kids who laughed at him for reading poetry.) He thought of it the moment his mind touched Erik’s. He thought of it when Erik left. He thought of it so many times, each time getting more and more bitter and resentful. Why this? Why this one snippet? Why this thought on love, when no one loved him enough to stay or come back? Hank stayed because he was loyal and had nowhere else, not out of any kind of friendship or affection. Moira had wanted to stay–but only a little. He’d felt that when he wiped her memory. She had been torn. It had been better to let her go.
Let her go, let Raven go, let them all go. Lose them before they leave. It’s all his fault, it’s always been his fault. He tries to lash out, but always falls short. He doesn’t really want to cause as much pain as he feels.
He’s a masochist. That’s the only explanation.
He sees Erik when the elevator opens, and the poem flashes before his eyes–but it doesn’t comfort like it had when he was a child, instead it hurts, and he finally lashes out with all his strength, feeling his fist connect with a satisfying noise, barely feeling the pain in his knuckles, barely noticing Peter and Logan staring with raised eyebrows. All he sees is Erik and that fucking poem.
Even on the plane, it runs ‘round and ‘round in his head. Our love is not kind, it is rough and complicated… healed our hearts… like skin, you can separate us… come together again…
He hates it.
He hasn’t thought of the poem in over ten years.
But he thinks of it now, when Erik is in Charles’ bedroom, standing by the window with his hands in his pockets, head bowed. Charles thinks of it and it is not bitter and painful. It’s not comforting either, though. It’s… it’s…
“It’s like a prophecy, almost.”
“What?” Erik raises his head, confused, eyes still red from weeping. He’d cried steadily for about ten minutes, his head on Charles’ knee; but now he is trying to be cold and distant, and failing.
Charles smiles softly. "These scars remind us that our love is not kind. It is rough and complicated. But they also show that we have always grown past that, we have healed our hearts, our bodies, and our souls. And they show that, like skin, you can separate us, but we will always come together again.“
Erik stares at him, even more confused.
“A poem I read when I was young.” Charles wheels closer and puts his hand on Erik’s arm. “It doesn’t matter. Come downstairs, have a drink with me.”
Erik’s eyes soften, and he puts his hand over Charles’. “Alright.”
zachariiee asked: hey, if you’re interested and up for a bit of a challenge with sprite edit requests, do you wanna try amber with long hair, or a ponytail or pigtails? she’s my favourite bachelorette! :D
Obviously i had to make a powerpoint dedicated to this glorious show. Please let me know if i’ve made any errors. I love this show so much and i want everyone to know why they should watch it. Go watch it, weep, rewatch it, weep some more, and then come talk with me about it!