#some stuff might be subject to change but here's the gist of it

[temporary-gentleman]

I have a question regarding your paleblood hunter William! Since the Hunter we play as arrives at Yharnam from foreign country, would that mean William did leave Yharnam at some point and only returned many years later? What made him leave to begin with? What urged him return to seek the "paleblood"? And what seeking "paleblood" would mean in his case (I presume he had extra information on this as former Byrgenwerth scholar)?

Hi, thank you for asking!

(a doodle of Good Hunter William during the events of the game)

William is not in fact a Yharnamite, he's a foreigner. He came to Byrgenwerth as a doctor in training after hearing of the old blood and its healing properties from a teacher of his who was in correspondence with the college (I imagine it was a rather well-guarded secret outside of academic circles).

He stayed at Byrgenwerth for a few years (he was around 20) and became rather well-acquainted with Micolash — arguably the most brilliant (and weird) local young professor. He left pretty much heartbroken after Micolash disappeared to found the School of Mensis without taking him along.

Around 15 years later he returns to Yharnam to seek a cure for his illness (he has a bad eye infection and barely sees out of his left eye without a special glass). He also vaguely heard of "paleblood" from Micolash years before, but merely dismissed it as some inconsequential rambling, being used to it.

So his goal in coming back to Yharnam is, first and foremost, to be healed. But part of him really wants to know what happened to Micolash: if he is still around or not, and what he tried to accomplish with the School of Mensis. The quest eventually leads him to Yahar'gul and the Nightmare of Mensis, where he learns terrible things. He is very torn between his duty as a Hunter and his lingering feelings for Micolash and he knows his ultimate decision will be unpleasant either way.

Thank you for your interest in my Hunter!!

[b1eeding-sun]

Finally made ref sheets for this au so I figure now is as good a time as any to make an official introduction post for it.

Keep in mind that I'm still working on ironing out all the details so some things may be subject to change. However, I do have the major story beats decided so it's all the stuff in between that I'm not certain of. (Also PV'S designs are subject to change I'm not certain I'll be sticking with these)

Au overview and some more art below the cut because I ended up yapping for so long

With that out of the way, here's the gist of this au:

When Truthless recluse shatters his soul jam in the spire of deceit, he gets sent back in time (as like a fluke side effect of awakening ig) where he is found by the Fount of knowledge. Pure Vanilla is weary of Fount at first because he's not entirely convinced that this isn't just Shadow Milk trying to fuck with him again but he does genuinely want to be friends with shadow milk so he decides to just go along with this. He does realize fairly quickly that this isn't a trick, he's actually stuck in the past.

Fount is absolutely fascinated by PV, he's never had any genuine connections with anybody before and PV is pretty much the first person ever to see him as an actual person and not just something to be used and then discarded. He is also extremely curious about why PV has a second copy of his soul jam (PV quickly after realizing he's not in his time starts hiding his soul jam but he couldn't exactly hide it from Fount, at this point in time it isn't visibility cracked yet, that happens later on.)

Long story short they become besties (could be read as romantic or platonic), horribly codependent relationship on both ends. they don't have anyone but each other and they are each other's whole world.

It would absolutely tear PV apart if Fount was to, for example, start to corrupt and for there to be absolutely nothing he could do about it. Or if, and I'm just throwing this out there, he was to be locked up in, oh I don't know, a tree for thousands of years. And expanding on that, let's just say, hypothetically, that Fount assumes PV is mortal (technically correct) and that Its been thousands of years, he's probably died of old age by now (not correct). That would probably fuck him up soooo bad. Especially since he's locked in this hypothetical tree and literally all he can do is sit with his own thoughts.

Hahaha, good thing that's purely hypothetical. Because if that wasn't hypothetical then PV might, in an attempt to spare himself from his suffering, shatter his soul jam (again) and completely lose all of his memories (again). But that'll never happen because that was all purely hypothetical and actually this au is all sunshine and rainbows with absolutely no angst.

I've got sosososososo many ideas about this au that I haven't even touched on in this brief overview and am genuinely considering turning this into a fic. However I've literally never written anything before and this concept I think would be incredibly difficult to pull off convincingly. Also, shadow milk/fount of knowledge is physically disabled here. You can pretty much assume that that's the case with any of my depictions of him even if it's not obvious just by looking, but I figured it should still say that.

Please please please please please send me questions about this au I'm hopelessly hyperfixated on it and I have absolutely nobody to talk about it with or bounce ideas off of and that's tragic. Also I haven't figured out a name for this yet so please give me suggestions so I can tag everything accordingly and have all of it in one place.

As a treat for hearing my rambling out, here's a collection of my favorite of the art I've made for this au thus far (I would have included all of it but stupid Tumblr image limitations):

Edit: there is now a fic for this AU currently in the works!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66152485/chapters/170494225

[lixettzunderscore]

empires season 1 superhero au doodles :D

here's some doodles i made for some of the character designs i made for a superhero au i've been drafting in my brain over the past while! well superhero is probably the wrong word; fwhip and jimmy are more so vigilantes but uh i originally pitched it as a superhero au so i'm rolling with it--

(codfather's design is very heavily inspired by @doodle-list's design of the codfather head and is thus subject to change. also he looks too green so i might change that too, idk)

! general ramblings and link to au masterpost under the cut !

basic gist of the au, for those interested, is that empires is a big ol city that starts getting terrorized by a weird group called "exor industries" (think like a mix of team rocket in the mainline pokemon games and team cypher from pokemon colosseum in terms of vibes) and fwhip, seeing that the authorities are doing nothing to help, decides to take matters into his own hands and puts on all his weird nerd gadgets and tries to stop them.

largely due to the element of surprise, he succeeds, and footage of him goes viral among the public as citizens begin hyping up a dragon-inspired superhero called basilisk. the evil plots didn't stop and the people seemed quite hopeful of the new hero, so fwhip just kinda rolls with it.

jimmy becomes a vigilante at one point after attacks start getting more hectic and he and fwhip immediately declare each other as rivals despite working towards the same goal (gem, scott and pix, who are part of fwhip's impromptu little hero squad, are very much annoyed by how counterproductive their rivarly is)

sausage does end up becoming part of exor industries at some point in time and he does have a silly little supervillain persona in this au (to go along with the pokemon comparison, think of him and joey as like admins in evil teams but more extra) but i only have a very vague idea of his design so i didn't doodle it :(

i do have plans on both writing and drawing lots of stuff for this au tho so uh look out for that!! :D (it is all i think about, wra my beloved <3)

(AU Masterpost!!)

[chaiandsage]

Heyo!

I just wanna say i finally finshed your trust life fic after, admittedly, a long time (I struggle with long fics and typically hate reading them) it was really great I actually had a lot of fun reading it! Im really glad your fic could be the first lobg fic ive read in a really long time and encouraging me to step outta my confort zone for that kinda stuff :} anyways I did actually have a question belive it or not, I was wondering if you had any tips on writting in character for them (them being the traffic games characters) and for writting longer fics?

Hi! Thank you!!

I’m not surprised it took you a while. When I went back to read it all myself, it took me literal weeks to finish, lol. But thank you for giving this one a try anyway. It’s great to know that you still enjoyed it even though it was out of the norm for you

For your question, I think a small, but effective way to achieve that would be to make sure a character’s dialogue includes phrases or words that they usually use often. Same goes for their tone too. So like, I know that people like Joel and Bdubs are usually loud talkers whereas Etho and Lizzie are more on the quiet end. So maybe just try to reflect that and keep things consistent unless the situation calls for something else? I’ll also just try to read things over in that character’s voice and if it feels wrong coming out of their mouth, then I change it according to what feels more accurate

Aside from dialogue tho, you could also try seeing how others seem to write them most often and work off of that? Sorry for the vagueness. I’m not sure I’m the best person to give advice on that subject 😅

Longer fics however… If you’re asking how to stretch a fic out, I think one way to kind of cheat at that would be to have the story take place from more than one perspective. That way there’s twice or more the amount of potential thoughts, problems, backstory, and development to cover (learned this the hard way)

—But if you’re asking how to write a GOOD long fic… I mean, I’d say it’s very important to have the gist of what you expect to happen be already established front and center in an outline. That way you’re not unprepared for anything and have already gotten one of the most difficult parts of writing it done (imo). That’s not to say that straying from your outline is a bad thing. If anything, depending on your story, it could kind of function as a safety net for that sort of thing. So no matter how much you decide to change, you at least know what direction you’re meant to be going in (I really hope I’m making sense here…)

ALSO—keep around a journal, or a notepad, or a log on your phone, or whatever so you can jot down any random ideas that you think would be cool to put in your story that might come to you whenever. Don’t trust yourself to remember to add them in once you start writing, because you won’t/lhj

If your fic has a lot of characters in it, then also make sure to write down and keep track of their relationship or current standing with other characters. For example, it wouldn’t make sense for two people who had beef three chapters ago to suddenly be cool or indifferent around each other the next time they meet up without there having been some kind of resolution (internal or otherwise) in the middle of all that. If someone gets into an argument with another person and then doesn’t see them again for a few chapters, their immediate thought upon seeing them for the first time again, in my opinion, shouldn’t be a cheery or neutral one. Maybe they cooled down a little between those chapters, but I don’t think the problem should have just fixed itself with time alone. That goes for a lot of other situations too

So, yeah, that’s pretty much what came to mind for me. I don’t consider myself an expert on any of this so please feel free to take it with a grain of salt. Regardless, I do hope you’re able to write out what you had in mind :)

[cq-studios]

All of your WIP titles are very interesting, haha, but if I can only pick a few, what are Ghosts of the Past AU and Brain's Dead Daughter monologue about?

(You can choose however many you’d like. I love to ramble about my things, and sharing stuff actually motivates me to work on them. So if there’s others you’re interested in shoot me another ask ^^)

(For This)

I’ll start with Brain’s Dead Daughter Monologue ‘cause I think it’ll be shorter to explain.

So this one is a part of Nameless AU, which is an AU where Eraqus’ parents die and Brain has to take care of him (which is most definitely an oversimplification of it but that’s the gist). This was originally a part of The End of Normal but I decided to make that all from Eraqus’ perspective instead of having it switch between the two of them. I think this might end up as an interlude chapter, but I’m not sure.

Here’s what I have so far. I want to add more but I might just leave it as is. Who knows?

How could he be grieving for someone he barely knew? He had sent her away. They’d rarely spoken. And yet Brain felt that familiar emptiness of loss anyways. Maybe what he was feeling was failure? A failure to do his job as a parent. A failure to form a bond with his child even after promising he’d try. What had he really lost from this, other than a relationship he never had? Maybe that’s what he was truly grieving. Not his daughter but what he hadn’t been able to do with her.

This was the feeling he was trying to avoid. That pain. He never wanted to feel it again and yet there it was inside him, ringing like a bell. Once again someone he should’ve been responsible for was gone. It was an almost unbearable sting that reminded him vaguely of how he felt when he first realized the Dandelions had been lost.

Annoyance rose up inside him. That thought bothered him most of all. This was a completely different situation and yet his mind still found a way to connect the hurt he felt to the Dandelions. It was so long ago he should be over it. But still that failure haunted him. And even now, when he should be grieving something completely different, he found himself stuck on them instead. Why couldn’t he move past it?

His daughter just died and here he was sitting in a room alone thinking about people he knew even less from hundreds of years ago. How pathetic was that?

As for the Ghost’s of the Past AU

This is still in the planning phase, so things here might get completely changed in future, but it’s currently two Subject X is Skuld themed fics (and a Sea Salt Trio + Isa one later on) where she starts seeing Ephemer’s ghost (but is it really him or her subconscious???). He can’t tell her any information she doesn’t already know but he can guide her towards the answers she’s looking for.

The first fic follows her just before and then after she escapes. She ends up in Zootopia and has to try and learn how to navigate that environment while still trying to find leads on her past (with the help of her ghost companion). Which is certainly helped by the fact that, as soon as she shows up, so do the heartless. She is blamed for them originally but then they find out she can defeat them (she uses magic, not her keyblade as she doesn’t remember she has it) and they make it her job to get rid of them. And the plot of Zootopia happens but with darkness instead of nighthowlers, you know KH Disney world stuff, and she finds some memories along the way.

The second one is from the Sea Salt Gang’s perspective (Skuld's too sometimes but not often), where they go through worlds looking for X and find her in Zootopia (since she’s literally the only human there she’s not hard to find). It would focus more so around Xion and Roxas forgiving Isa and Isa reconciling for his past actions and abuse towards them. And have a reunion at the end.

Like I said earlier I don’t have much solid writing for these fics yet but I did write this one small scene that takes place between X disappearing and Lea and Isa becoming nobodies. It is technically canon complaint but I wrote it for this AU so I’ll put it here.

“Hey!” Lea called. The boy, Ienzo, stopped and turned his head to face him almost robotically. Yeesh, what do they do to the kids here? No, not important, stay on task. Lea shook his head to clear it, “Do you know where the notes, or files, or whatever, on…” Oh, what was it they were using his friend to research again? Damn. He really should’ve planned this better. He could practically hear Isa making fun of him in his head. Lea, only a moron like you could forget something like that. It’s ironic really. Ironic? Right! “on memories. Do you know where I can find the papers about that?”

Ienzo blinked at him twice, otherwise unmoving. Lea did the opposite, definitely moving as he shifted uncomfortably. Seriously, what is up with this kid? 

Without a word, the tiny scientist began walking away.

Should’ve known better than to ask the mute kid for directions. Lea realized, way too late.

“Is that a yes? ‘Cause even if it wasn’t I’m following you anyways”.

[pokichusramblings]

Hello all! My name is Pokichu, or the pseudonym Penelope Apidae, my pronouns are she/they/fae and this is my main account. I’m still experimenting with neopronouns, so I might change these in the future. My posts range from activism to memes to being a lesbian on main. I of course will also talk about my special interests on here because I am autistic.

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

I have two alts, both of which are for my creative works, mostly art and writing.

@myautismisnowyourproblem is my fandom alt, where I post about various fandoms. I’ll still probably put some fandom stuff here, but I will put art and writing about fandom stuff there.

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

My special interests:

Psychology (more specifically, human diversity and the stuff that makes people unique. It’s more complicated than that but that’s the gist of it)

Science in general

Content creation, like streaming and animation videos (I do want to do content creation, but my specific interest is in the content creation process itself)

Digital art

Arts and crafts

Creative writing

Fanfiction

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

My tags:

#PokichuDraws for original art

#PokichuWrites from original writing

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

My current hyperfixations:

MCYT (I’ve been on this one long enough that it might just be another special interest tbh)

Vtubers

Honkai: Star Rail

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

And finally, despite what it might look like here, I am very deliberate about separating my online presence from my personal life. I will never share my real name, age, face, or other similarly private stuff. I may tend to overshare, but I have certain boundaries for what I do not want the internet to know. Pokichu is a persona, a representation of myself I use in online interactions as a shield for my own safety and comfort.

I do not mind questions about my identity or other stuff, but I might not answer those questions. I am willing to share certain parts of my life, but I reserve the right to choose what I will be private about.

If you happen to ask a question that is too personal, or broach a personal subject, I won’t be offended. But if you push past my “that info is too private for me to share”, or break known boundaries, I will block you.

I have a small enough online presence that I doubt this disclaimer is necessary, but I am making it because I would rather be safe than sorry when it comes to curating my online space. If you are bothered or offended by me simply reserving my right to privacy, then you aren’t worth my time anyway. I don’t like getting serious, but this is something that is important to me.

[burningblake]

Here's a sneak peak of my current chenford wip, set in the middle ages. I have written 7 chapters of this already, but I still need a month to finish it. Some stuff might still change in later edits, but the gist of it is: Tim is a prince in a heartless kingdom, Lucy becomes his knight. (Think BBC's Merlin meets Disney's Mulan.)

#

The Prince and the Knight

Prologue

One moment she'd been dancing with him as his fake bride to be—also fake queen to be—in a gilded ballroom filled with lavishly dressed royals, and the next the two of them were running through the forest, her still wearing her moonsilver gown, with the rushed addition of a sword belt, him in plain farmer's clothes. 

The rumors of King Elijah planning a midnight attack could very well be just this, rumors. But should they be true, his troops couldn't be waiting far away from the castle. And since they'd have to be hidden, the forest was their most likely destination. 

Lucy had tried to argue that Tim should send two of his other knights, ones who didn't participate in the evening celebrations, and thus wouldn't have been seen by any of Elijah's men. But the prince wouldn't trust anyone with the mission. And so she, his first knight, had to make sure he came back unharmed.

Her dress caught up on a thorny plant and tore up to her knee along the way. She grunted. "Great," she muttered, "Angela's going to be so mad at me." 

Tim turned to look at her, his gaze momentarily lingering on the torn cloth. "She's going to be less mad at you when you have saved her husband's neck from his usurper," he said. 

Lucy nodded.

Indeed, they didn't have to walk far. They encountered lights from the enemy's campsite not too far from the entrance to the forest. 

Tim immediately grabbed Lucy's wrist and pulled her down behind the cover of a large bush. His arm instinctively came around her shoulders, the need to shield her from the enemy appearing abruptly and violently inside him. 

Lucy tried to catch her breath. "We have to warn the others," she whispered. 

Tim shook his head. "We need more information first. Like how they plan to get past the walls." 

Lucy nodded. They sneaked around the encampment, jumping from one coverage to another, trying to find a clear point of entrance. There was at last one towards the west side, but as soon as they reached it, a patrol of two guards was marching through it and towards their direction. 

Lucy acted on pure impulse. She pushed Tim back and took cover behind the thick trunk of a tree. But it wasn't enough. If the guards walked by, they would for sure take them for spies. 

Luckily her dress was already torn and dirtied from the forest, and hence it had lost some of its luster. If she was spotted, she didn’t risk being mistaken for someone from the party. And Tim was in common clothes so his identity was covered (she doubted many people knew the prince's face personally). 

"Kiss me," she said urgently.

Tim shook his head in confusion. 

She grumbled, before she grabbed him from the shoulders and pushed him towards the ground, aiming directly for his mouth. 

Chapter 1 — The Cruel King

There once lived a king whose wealthy and indulgent way of living had made him a grief to his subjects, and most of all, his children. 

Being a motherless girl, Princess Gennifer grew up under the care and guardianship of the castle's governess, and so she rarely suffered her father's tempers. The same was not true, unfortunately, for Prince Timothy. 

The young prince learned hardship from an early age. He was frequently denied luxury and sent upon missions into the deep forests of North-Wilshire to either hunt or recover items—some of them bearing descriptions as impossible as "the flower that's never seen sunlight" or "the sword of a fallen knight". Sometimes, Tim was simply sent out there to spend the night. And whenever he returned without fulfilling his mission, he would suffer the king's wrath.

"Sir, please," little Genny would cry on her brother's behalf, "Don't let Timothy go alone into the forest. There are wolved and monsters and, what if he never returns?" 

"Do not think that you can influence my decision, little girl," the king would answer. 

The prince grew up to hate his father. Some of his hate was naturally due to the abuse he'd often suffer under him, but mainly Tim despised the king because of his hypocrisy and cowardice. 

Because even though King Tomas forced his son into hardship, he himself endured none of it. During his upbringing, Tim witnessed a parade of lovers march in and out of his father's chambers, he saw the kingdom suffer under the burden of impossible taxes to cover for the king's mindless expenses, and he often had to stand as a fierce protector for his sister. 

The latter were the only occasions where Tim would stand up against his father. When he once ordered Genny to join him in one of the missions, the young boy fought him so hard that in the end he had to spend a week in the castle's dungeons with no food and no company.

Luckily, things weren't always this hopeless for the young prince. 

For several weeks every summer, he and his sister got to spend time in the neighboring kingdom of Mid-Wilshire. 

King Wade, unlike Tim's father, was a fair and just king, and Tim had grown to see a role model and a proper father figure in him. 

During one of their first visits there, he and Genny became fast friends with Nyla, the king's young cousin who would later become the leader of his knights (King Wade had no prejudice against women joining the army, a rule for which King Tomas was strict about in his own kingdom), and Isabel, the youngest knight in the army. 

It was due to Nyla and Isabel's influence that Timothy decided to take an active part in training his father's knights. If he could ever hope for a better kingdom, he had to at least make sure its protectors did not take after its ruler. But whilst Nyla became a compassionate and exemplary trainer, Tim, unfortunately, adopted some of his father's cruel ways. 

He would often challenge his knights into combat, then scorn them for being weak. He would purposely create situations where their life was at stake to guide decision-making. And he would send his knights upon missions in the forest, only in his case, he joined right along and made sure there was a teaching purpose to them. 

Soon, the prince's unconventional way of training became known as the Tim Tests. Many who repeatedly failed them were denied the right to knighthood. Others quit it on their own volition.  

When Genny came of age, she quickly married off to a kingdom far away from her father's, and so he didn't have the chance to exercise his whims on her in that department. Again, Timothy lucked out in that aspect as well. For his father viewed him as his direct heir and a means to forge alliances with other powerful kingdoms.

One afternoon, Patrice, their governess, informed the prince of rumors of such a marriage candidate arriving at the castle. Upon hearing this, Tim rushed to his father's quarters, anger boiling in his veins. 

"You expect me to marry after what you did to my last lover?" he demanded, slamming his hands upon his father's desk.

The king did not move from his relaxed position, only gave him a cold stare. "Careful son, I would be more cautious about where I place  accusations."

Tim stood upright, not interested in arguing about who was to blame for his misfortunes. Instead, he pressed the point in fact. 

"You can bring in as many candidates as you like. I'm not going to choose any of them."

Tomas smiled. "Now, Tim Tim. Do not underestimate the power of falling in love again after a heartbreak. After the loss of your mother, I also thought I would never be able to move on." 

Tim's eyes widened in surprise. The king rarely mentioned his wife. Both his children only knew that she had died some time after giving birth to Gennifer. 

"And when did you have the chance to fall in love, I wonder?" The prince's mouth was twisted in bitterness. "During the few-minute encounters with one of your dozens of mistresses?" 

Tomas slammed his fist on his desk, rising from his chair. 

"Be grateful that I'm at least letting you choose who to marry and not giving you to the first ugly, rich bride that comes through here!" 

Tim pressed his lips together, withholding his anger, as he often did in his arguments with his father. Sometimes he felt as though he would murder the old man, should he let the anger overcome him. 

He left the king's office without another word. 

From the next day, the brides started visiting one after the other. The prince rejected each and all of them. Soon, it became the kingdom's favorite subject to gossip about, while many would hold bets on it. Which princess would end up being the one? 

In the meantime, Tim unleashed his anger and frustration during his knights' training sessions. 

"Nolan!" he shouted one morning, marching into the courtyard. The oldest of the knights stood up among his peers who were presently sitting in a circle upon the ground, taking their breakfast, and promptly wiped his fingers on his slacks. 

"Yes, my lord!" 

"Take out your sword and face me." 

"Sir… now?" objected the knight. 

"Is that what you're going to tell the enemy if they launch a surprise attack during your meal? If they want to fight you now?" Tim demanded.

"Yes—I mean no! Of course not," Nolan stuttered, before shakily unsheathing his sword. Tim retrieved his. The other knights observed tensely, as the two men crouched into combating positions against each other. 

"If I manage three wins before you do," Tim announced, "you won't get to have breakfast for a week, is that clear?" 

Nolan swallowed, then nodded slowly. 

Tim let him have the first swing. But still it didn't matter. For a little while later, he had defeated the knight three times in a row. 

"Next one," he announced, while Sir Nolan leaned onto his knees, trying to catch his breath. 

None of the knights stepped forward to volunteer. 

"Have I trained you all to be a bunch of weaklings? I am asking again, who's going to fight me?" 

"With all due respect, sir," started Sir Jackson, the youngest of the knights, "but you seem to be particularly angry today, and you said we shouldn't let anger influence our fighting." 

The prince now glared at the young boy. "Who said I am letting it influence the fight? Last chance, one of you step forward now or I'll make all of you run the courtyard till lunchtime." 

A long silence fell among them. 

"As you wish—" started Tim.

"Your honor, I wish to fight!" a voice emerged then. 

Surprisingly, it hadn't come from any of the gathered knights, who, along with the prince, turned to look towards the speaker. 

A short young fellow stood near the entrance to the courtyard. He wasn't dressed in the usual knight's armor, but rather in a simple black doublet and matching slacks, along with a belt around his waist that held his sword. His hair was pulled up in a firm bun and his dark, almond-shaped eyes betrayed an origin from the eastern lands. 

The prince studied him carefully. The pull of his dark eyes was the first thing he noticed, a feeling too strange to linger on. 

"And who are you?" he asked the newcomer.

#

To be continued.

[zackmartin]

What is your fake dating au about?

Thank you so so much for giving me a chance to ramble about it, I love and adore you with my whole heart 🥺💕 I'm gonna put this under a readmore cause I went a little crazy haha

Sorry that I talk way too much, but I wanna say a few things first. 1) I’m trying really hard not to trash my own writing anymore so I hope this doesn’t come across the wrong way but like. I do feel like I need to mention that I am super self-aware of the fact that this fic is very cheesy and tropey. Like, ofc I want it to be good, but at the end of the day, I’m writing it for the target audience of me and to just have fun, so I’m not really taking it too seriously. (besides that, fake dating is kind of a ridiculous concept anyway, so I knew going in that it was never going to be anything other than like, a corny teen rom-com, and I’m genuinely okay with that.) 2) I’ve completely reworked the plot three times so far (it’s going to stay fake dating, I just mean the hows of how they get there and the reason(s) they need to fake date) so there’s a chance that an hour from now I might decide I don’t like what I’ve written, it’ll get scrapped again, and if the final draft ever gets posted, it might be completely different from whatever I say here 😅

Anyway! I’m gonna be real, there’s not really a whole lot of plot outside of “Henry and Zack fake date but end up developing real feelings in the process” 😂 But, I have so much fun talking about my stuff, so I’ll still give some tidbits anyway 🥰💗

Outside of the fake dating of it all, it’s also, as of now, friends-to-lovers. (so this is one of the very very few AUs I have where they don’t start out despising each other laskdjf) And like I said, everything is subject to change, but,,,, I’m pretty certain at least one of them is going to have a crush on the other right from the first chapter 👀 They both have a reason for needing a fake date at one point, but I don’t wanna spoil too too much, so I won’t say what Henry’s reason is, but on Zack’s side, it’s pretty cliché for the trope, like it’s basically just him wanting to make someone else jealous. Also, they’re pretty huge idiots in this fic, I’m not gonna lie adksls there’s a bit of misinterpretation that happens, where they both think the other’s words or actions means that they aren’t actually interested.

And, idk, there’s some other fun stuff in it, but that’s pretty much the gist! ☺️☺️ thanks again for asking 🥹🥹💕💕

[transtraumatizedvillainsclub]

THE TTVC: AN OVERVIEW

THE GIST: It's a club. Of villains. They're all trans. They're all traumatized. And now they're all just kind of stuck with each other.

THE MEMBERS*:

Deacon Frost [He/Him, It/Its] (Blade, 1998) - 🩸^

Akan [He/Him] (Hardcore Henry, 2015) - 👁️‍🗨️^

Todd Ingram [Any/No Preference] (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, 2010) - 🎸

Gideon Graves [He/Him] (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, 2010) - 💽

Eric Sparrow [He/Him, Fuck/You] (Tony Hawk's Underground, 2003) - 🛹

Billy Loomis [It/Its, He/Him] (Scream, 1996) - 🔪

Stu Macher [They/Them, He/Him] (Scream, 1996) - ☎️

Chris McLean [He/Him] (Total Drama, 2007 - 2014) - 📺^

Armitage Hux [Mirror Pronouns] (Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, 2015 - 2019) - ♠️

Anakin Skywalker [He/Him] (Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, 1999 - 2005) - ☄️

Edward Nygma [Any/No Preference] (Batman: Forever, 1997) - ❓^

Edward Nashton [He/Him, They/Them, It/Its] (The Batman, 2022) - 👓

Ivo Robotnik [He/Him] (Sonic the Hedgehog, 2020) - 🤖^

Gary Smith [He/Him] (Bully, 2006) - 🃏

The Mad King [He/Him] (X-Ray and Vav, 2014 - 2015) - 👑^

Scud [He/Him] (Blade II, 2002) - 🍩

Tohru Adachi [He/Him] - ⚠️

Goro Akechi [He/Him, They/Them] - 🔎

*Members marked with a "^" have plus ones and twos and will elaborate if asked nicely :].

THE FORMAT: A combination of ask blog and content dumping ground; feel free to ask just about anything that comes to mind. The content itself is variety, from headcanon writing posts to art pieces to shitposts etc., etc. Some asks may have image responses, some might not.

THE TAGS:*

#ttvc - general tag for the TTVC

#ttvc asks - general ask tag for TTVC content

#[MEMBER NAME + EMOJI HERE] ask - tagged by member name and emoji

#ttvc art wall - general art tag for TTVC content

#[MEMBER NAME + EMOJI] art - for art of specific members

#ttvc musings - general writing tag for TTVC content

#[MEMBER NAME + EMOJI] musings - for writings of specific members

#ttvc funny zone - general shitpost/meme tag for TTVC content

#[MEMBER NAME + EMOJI HERE] funny zone - for shitpost/memes of specific members

#scotty speaks! - admin/ooc stuff

*Note: Some member tags may intersect with one another due to member interaction.

THE ADMIN AND OOC STUFF: Timaeus or Scott, and [They/Them], please. You're free to ask stuff but it really won't be as engaging as asking the members. Are they aware of me at all? Sure, you could say that.

[MEMBERS SUBJECT TO CHANGE AT ANY TIME. DO NOT SUGGEST MEMBERS THROUGH ASKS. DISCUSS IT THROUGH DMS. I WILL IGNORE MEMBERSHIP REQUESTS IN THE FORM OF ASKS. ALSO REMEMBER TO SPECIFY WHICH MEMBER YOU'RE ASKING THINGS TO BY EITHER USING THEIR NAME OR EMOJI.]

[magickastiel]

Somewhere Off in the Dark (Dean/Cas) 7.3k

It’s easier to be with Cas in the dark.

Dean hasn’t got to see those eyes at full brightness, boring into his soul. Instead he can just talk and not worry about the embarrassment scalding his face or the discomfort twisting his spine.

It’s dangerous being with Cas in the dark.

Gift for @jackttwist for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! ✨

mild warning for a scene during early s13 so dean is very self-destructive and doesn't care about his own life. It's along the same times as the show but if you're triggered by that, skip from: 'Dean is sick' and pick up again at: "The Empty?" Dean whispers, feeling cold' for the cute stuff!

a03 or keep reading 💖

_

Dean will never get used to waking up and seeing eyes peering back at him.

He starts awake, half-reaching for the gun tucked under his pillow before he can pull himself back. He glares and throws the blanket off his lap, immediately regretting it when the cool night air hits his legs.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel says, voice dry and face impassive. He watches without shame as Dean clambers to his feet, eyes skimming over his legs, his rucked up t-shirt, the scowl on his face.

A chill shoots up Dean’s back and, not for the first time, he wonders how many pairs of eyes Castiel really has. He walks from the couch to Bobby’s kitchen for something to do with his overly observed body.

“I’ll shoot you one day.” He says over his shoulder. “That’ll show you.”

“What will that show me?”

Dean wants to be annoyed but instead he snorts with laughter. Castiel seems to have this affect on him.

“Nothin’. Forget it.” His eyes itch with fatigue and he rubs them with the back of his hand. “You want coffee?”

“I have no need for - ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dean turns to lean his back against the counter and almost jumps again when he sees that Castiel has silently followed him to the kitchen. He can count the number of worn tiles between his bare feet and Castiel’s shoes. He has to swallow before he speaks. “Didn’t ask if you needed it. You want some?”

The angel’s eyes travel over him again and Dean feels like an ant under the hot glare of a magnifying glass on a sticky summer’s day.

“Yes.” He says eventually.

“Right.” Coffee.

He potters about, feeling eyes on him wherever he goes. He doesn’t let his hand shake.

By the time they’re sat back on the couch with two half-empty mugs, Dean’s body has loosened as he becomes accustom to the silent scrutiny. There’s no looming threat and no harsh judgement because Castiel is as he always is – curious. Every movement is apparently fascinating to him, every sentence Dean says is worth contemplation and every sip of coffee is a new experience to mull over. Again, Dean is surprised how little it annoys him.

“You remember the first time you woke me up here?” He says after a long pause. “You threatened to throw me back into Hell. Real nice of you.”

In the dark, Dean has to rely on Castiel’s voice to judge his expression. “Yes.” The word sounds solemn, like he’s disappointed that Dean remembers it. “I did say that.”

Dean takes the last glug of coffee to think. There’s an obvious question that’s been lingering between them for the last ten minutes.

“Why did you come here tonight?” He asks and doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be.

Even though he can’t see him properly, he’s sure Castiel is staring straight at him even as he ponders his answer. It’s another reminder of how alien he is. He doesn’t have that need to look away, to hide his face as his mind races to find the right way to say the right thing. Dean envies him that.

“I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise for what?”

When he speaks again, his tone is unnervingly soft. “Your friends.”

Ellen. Jo.

Dean’s heart clenches and he feels the urge to move, unable to sit still in his grief. His knee knocks against Castiel’s solid thigh but the angel stays perfectly still.

“I should have been with them.” Castiel continues his voice low and smooth. If it wasn’t for the subject matter, Dean might think he was being read to sleep like a troubled child. “I should have protected them.”

“Not your fault.” He mumbles and means it. It never occurred to him to blame Castiel. He’s been too busy blaming himself to consider anyone else’s actions.

“I arrived with them and I should have stayed with them. I let them down. I – I let...”

Castiel is hesitating. This is new behaviour for him and it’s dangerously human.

“I...let you down.”

Dean feels like he’s been doused with cold water. He doesn’t blame Castiel for not wanting to say that. It’s so ridiculously untrue and so goddamn weird to say that he let Dean down specifically. It’s too much focus on him, on them.

“You didn’t let us down, man.”

“You are being kind.” Castiel says in neither admonishment nor gratefulness. He just states it like it’s a sure fact. “Thank you. But I shall endeavour to make it up to you.”

“Oh.” Dean says feeling dumb and strangely warm. “Right. But like I said, nothing to make up for.”

“You are not sleeping.”

He almost gets whiplash at the sudden change in conversation. “Uh well, no, not right now. You did wake me up.”

“Allow me to clarify: you do not sleep enough.” The still air is disturbed by the rustle of his trenchcoat and the sharp clack of the ceramic mug being placed on the table.

“Kind of a lot going on, dude.” Dean says, trying to protest as Castiel pulls his mug from his hands and places that on the table too. “Uhhh, what are you doing?”

“Lie back down.”

Dean does as he’s told but frowns too. He tells himself it’s a good compromise. “You gonna stare at me until I fall asleep or something?”

“I could but I believe that will be unnecessary.” He stands and looms over the couch. He looks intimidating from down here – tall as a skyscraper and dark as a void. Dean clutches at the blanket for something tangible to hold on to. “Your body still hasn’t recovered from the physical and emotional trauma of the last week. And when you sleep you have nightmares thus reliving the pain. You must rest completely to correct this and regain your full strength.”

Dean snorts. “Oh, yeah? So what you gonna do – zap me to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Wait – ”

Two fingertips brush his forehead and he sleeps.

_

Dean can’t stop looking.

Even as Benny regales them with some batshit story, even as he eats his handful of berries, even as he wanders the perimeter of their little camp.

Cas is here.

Like, actually here.

He hadn’t let himself lose hope but it had been slipping. Just around the corner, he’d think. One more fight and he’ll be there. On and on.

And then there he was, alive and washing his face like he’d just woken up after a bad night’s sleep at a motel.

Dean’s eyes flit over to him again. He isn’t used to it yet. They only found him a few hours ago. Man’s gotta bask in having his best friend back.

“Dean? You hear me?”

He sighs and turns back to Benny who, to his credit, doesn’t even look annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Sleeping, shifts, food.”

He snorts. “Got the gist, at least.”

“I’ll take the first shift. Gotta...” He glances over his shoulder at Cas again. He isn’t quite sure what he’s got to do, but he knows it involves Cas.

“Like that, huh?” Benny says, a slight smirk on his face.

“What do you mean?” He mutters, grabbing a stick and poking the meagre fire for something else to focus on.

“Nothin’, nothin’.” He waves a hand, but the smirk hasn’t left his face. “Just startin’ to feel like a third wheel, is all.”

Dean’s face heats unpleasantly. He knows it’s not like that but he can’t quite bring himself to argue about it. Instead he stares into the fire as Benny wanders off to rest. He feels horribly cracked open. He’s gotten used to his hardened shell – Purgatory took all the resilience he had and coated him in it. But the first sight of Cas had split him apart and now his usual racing thoughts have come rushing back with the force of a ten tonne truck. He almost wishes he could go back to how he was yesterday, pure focus and drive.

Now he feels small next to the fire, between a vampire and an angel.

He’s just one slightly shitty human lost in Purgatory.

“Dean?”

Cas joins him suddenly, with that eerie angelic stealth. Dean only just manages to stop himself from jumping like a kid. Cas sits on his left, watching him intently.

Everything is kind of colourless in Purgatory. It drove Dean insane for the first few days; everything seemed slightly off and unreal. Then he got used to it – the lacklustre trees, the blank water, even the fire looked kind of grey.

Cas’ eyes are still very blue.

It’s the first real colour he’s seen in months.

“Dean?” He says again, sounding slightly alarmed. “Are you alright?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. Just...weird to see you, I guess.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. “I...I suppose it is strange to see you too. I have seen you from a distance a few times. If several leviathans caught me at once, it would take me a while to kill all of them. Each time, I was very aware of how you were likely closing in on my location. Then I would catch a glimpse of you through the trees and that was when I knew I needed to get ahead again.”

“You what?!” Dean hisses, only keeping his voice down for Benny’s sake. “You mean you’ve been in spitting distance before and you didn’t say anything?! You could have...” He thinks about the sleepless nights, the desperation to find him alive. “I was afraid you were dead.”

“I am sorry, Dean.” Cas squints and tilts his head a little. Dean feels his anger dissipate. “I wanted nothing more than to join you. Together, I am sure we can conquer almost anything.” Right. That’s a total normal thing to say to someone. “But I was the one who released the leviathans. It was my responsibility to deal with them. If they got to you I would never be able to forgive myself.” His gaze drops to the fire. “I will never be able to forgive myself.”

“Don’t.” Frustration pushes at Dean’s skull, making his eyes water. “Yeah, ok. You did something pretty dumb. But you did it because you were trying to save the world. I should have...if I hadn’t been so damn caught up with other stuff. If I had just been there more - ”

“Dean, you cannot blame yourself.” Cas sounds genuinely horrified at the thought. “It was my decision and the consequences are mine to bear. All I can hope is that you can find a way to forgive me. And Sam - ”

“Sam’s good now.” Dean says quickly, half to reassure himself. “You screwed him over, not gonna lie. But at least you fixed it.”

Neither of them speaks for a while. Cas seems intent on watching the fire while Dean’s shell shatters a little more. Had he really had forgiven Cas just like that? He thought of what John Winchester would say about that. To say Cas had ‘screwed Sam over’ was a bit of an understatement. He had totally destroyed his mind. And here Dean was, casually forgiving him like it was no big thing.

It isn’t just words either. Dean really doesn’t feel any animosity towards the angel at all. Look out for Sammy. That had been drummed into him since he was four years old, when he carried his baby brother from their burning home. He still lives by it too. So it’s unnerving to forgive someone who hurt Sam. He’d been angry at first, sure. Upset, if he was being honest. He’d been hit with the double whammy of worrying about Sam and being betrayed by the only real friend he’d ever had. The only one that sticks around.

Well, that isn’t quite true. Cas always leaves but he always comes back too.

Now Dean just feels happy. And tired. He’s pretty tired too.

“You should sleep.” Cas says, softly. “I can watch over you.”

His knee jerk reaction is to tell the angel that’s weird. In any other situation it is weird. But here, he really does need someone looking out for him.

“’Angels are watching over you.’” He says, thinking of soft blonde hair and a warm smile. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “That’s what my mom used to tell me every night when she put me to bed. Guess that’s true tonight, huh?”

“I suspect she did not imagine that to come true in Purgatory while you are travelling with an angel and vampire, but the sentiment is lovely nonetheless.”

Dean can’t stop himself from grinning as he settles down, wedging his jacket under his head like Benny did.

“Do we have to travel with the vampire?” Cas grumbles beside him, sounding wonderfully like himself.

Dean raises his eyebrows against his makeshift pillow. “What, you don’t like Benny?”

“I don’t like the way he acts.” His eyes narrow, glaring at the sleeping figure the other side of the fire. “He looks at you like he wants to...consume you.”

Dean laughs and, for a moment, the clearing rings with it. “Dude trust me: Benny ain’t gonna eat me. He’s got plenty of food around.”

But Cas still looks unsure. “That’s not...” He sighs. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He gives Dean one of those rare, small smiles as he looks down at him. “Sleep.”

Dean does as he’s told for once, letting his aching limbs stretch out next to the warmth of the fire and under his best friend’s watchful gaze.

But after a few moments, he can’t resist another look, even as his body succumbs.

“You can sleep, Dean.” Cas says, almost chastising. “I’ll watch over you.”

“Ain’t that. Just...” His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his heart feels too heavy for his chest. “Just checkin’ you’re still there, is all.”

As he falls asleep, he hears his voice one more time.

“I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

_

When Dean asks Cas where he can drop him, the ex-angel avoids his eyes and says something about being ‘between places’.

Yeah, Dean’s the worst friend in the world.

He drives them to a motel because that’s the least he can do.

He mentally berates himself on the drive there while Cas is quiet in the passenger seat. This really is the least he can do. He should be driving Cas home to the Bunker, buying him dinner on the way back. He should be apologising for throwing him out. But if he starts apologising that means he’s got to start explainingand that’s something he really can’t do. Not yet.

So he drives his awesome best friend to a shitty motel and books them a shitty twin room and orders a shitty pizza.

Once they’ve eaten in relative silence, Cas perches on the edge of one of the beds staring wide-eyed and blank faced at the television. Unfortunately, it’s not Dr. Sexy. Just some grim drama about murders and family betrayals. Like they don’t have enough of that to deal with already.

He looks small and Dean has the sudden urge to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude,” He says, busying his restless hands with clearing up the greasy napkins and tossing them into the bin. “Don’t sit that close to the TV. You’ll get square eyes.”

For what seems like the first time in an hour, Cas blinks. “Is that possible?”

Dean chuckles and settles back on his bed, kicking off his boots with a groan. “Nah, just somethin’ parents tell their kids. Dad used to say it to me all the time.” His smile slips as John Winchester’s dark eyes narrow in his mind. “Used to watch so much Scooby Doo it drove him mad. ‘Turn that TV off and do something useful! Ain’t got no use for a son with square eyes!’” He fidgets on the bed, fighting the urge to pull a blanket over himself.

“Oh.” Cas half turns away from the TV. “That seems unnecessarily harsh.”

Dean shrugs. “Just watched it when he was gone.” Had plenty of time.

“I assume you had plenty of time to watch it then.”

Huh.

Dean’s stunned into silence long enough for Cas to look over. Something on his face makes Cas look guilty.

“I’m sorry. It isn’t my place to comment on your father.”

“No.” Dean says but isn’t sure if he means it.

Cas stands, flicking off the TV and sitting against the pillows of his own bed. The quiet makes Dean realise that he’s alone with Cas in a motel room. He isn’t sure why it sets his teeth on edge – it shouldn’t be any different from sharing with Sam. So why does he feel a bit too hot under his shirt?

“Family is a complicated thing.” Cas continues, oblivious to Dean’s discomfort.

“Y-yeah.” The word sticks in his throat. “You miss ‘em? The other angels?”

In the soft lamplight, Cas’ profile looks striking as he thinks. “Yes and no. I miss the simplicity of being with them.”

“Simplicity? Can’t imagine Heaven ever being simple.”

“Oh, it’s not, not really. But I knew my place and I knew what I required to do. And I was known. Understood.”

“You think I don’t get you?” Dean asks before he can stop himself.

Cas leans back further, turning slightly to rest his head on the pillow. His eyes look almost velvet in the soft light. Dean finds himself turning a little too, cheek brushing the cotton pillowcase.

“I think you understand me more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“Oh.” Dean feels struck dumb and something inside his chest clunks. “That...that’s what friends are for, I guess.”

“Yes.” Cas smiles, gummy and a little crooked where he’s resting his head. “It is.”

Dean rolls onto his back, heart hammering as he stares at the ceiling. Cas’ eyes are still on him – he knows the feel of that gaze like a dangerous coastline knows the relentless glare of a lighthouse.

The silence drags and his fingers itch to switch the TV back on.

“Coulda got you your own room.” He mutters, almost to himself. Least I could do. “Give you some privacy.”

“No.” Cas says firmly. “This is...this is good. Thank you.” He sounds so earnestly grateful Dean almost cringes in shame. “I spend quite a lot of time alone. It’s good to have company.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.”

“But if you’d rather - ”

“Nah, it’s all good.” He says and is surprised that he means it. He’s counted the stains on the ceiling three times and his heart is slowing to its normal pace again.

“Dean?” Cas sounds a little slower now. “Tell me something?”

“Uh, sure. What?”

“Anything.”

“Like a story?” Dean frowns and looks over to see Cas’ eyes are already half-closed.

“Hmm.”

“Uhhh...” He flounders. He hasn’t done this since he was a kid, making up stories for Sammy to fall asleep to in the back of the Impala. “Ok. Once, this guy woke up. Let’s call him...Dan. He woke up and realised he was underground, being suffocated. So after he panicked a bit, he dug his way out and almost goddamn blinded himself ‘cos it was a sunny day, right? He walks to this old gas station and keeps thinking ‘how am I alive?’ ‘cos he’s pretty sure he was dead.”

He knows he isn’t telling it well but it doesn’t seem to matter because Cas hums again, sounding pleased this time. Dean feels his own body melting like hot wax into the bed as he watches Cas’ eyes close.

“Then he looks in the mirror and sees he’s got this mark on his shoulder. A handprint. So he’s like, ‘who the hell left that there?’”

Cas chuckles, mouth thick with sleep. Dean pulls a blanket over himself and wraps an arm around one of the pillows.

“Turns out, his best friend left it there. But here’s the thing: he ain’t met him yet.”

Dean smiles as Cas’ breathing gets even and heavy. He watches for a moment and squeezes the pillow tight against his chest before turning out the light.

He dreams of Hell but when he wakes, all he can remember are dark wings beating hard against fire.

_

Dean is sick.

He throws up until his body is shaking, until his throat is raw and his eyes are bloodshot.

He slumps down next to the toilet and takes in breaths he doesn’t really want. The cool title presses against his burning back and he closes eyes. Which is a horrific mistake.

A beam of light streaming from his mouth, from his eyes, from the hole in his chest -

His body jerks and his foot knocks the empty whiskey bottle with a jarring clatter. Yeah, that’s rule one, buddy. Don’t close your fucking eyes.

He stands on shaking legs, picks up the empty bottle and goes back to his room where he’s stashed another. Thankfully, he doesn’t pass Sam on the way. He can’t deal with the pity, he can’t deal with the logic and he can’t deal with his stupid, childish hope. Mom’s gone. Ain’t no sense in pretending otherwise. Gone just like –

Nope.

He opens his door and chucks the empty bottle down again, letting it roll off to some dark corner of his room. He scoops up the next one and cracks open the top, taking a deep swig. It hits him hard; neat alcohol on his turbulent stomach makes him gag but he perseveres. He’s exhausted but he can’t close his eyes.

So he’s aiming for blackout.

It can’t be too far away – he can’t remember when he last ate. He’s aching all over, boiling hot and he’s...

Sobbing.

“You...you son of a bitch...” He sways a little when he looks up at the dingy ceiling but he’s trying to talk beyond that. “Whydya hav’ ta...fuck!” He rushes over to the sink and throws up the whiskey he just swallowed. It burns even more on the way up.

Once he’s stopped retching, he tries to take another swig but his body won’t let him do it. He collapses onto the floor again, legs too weak to stand. The bottle clangs in the sink, probably spilling all of its contents down the drain. He makes a weak sound of protest but doesn’t move.

His eyes feel tight and dry against the salty wetness on his face. He wonders how far above him Heaven is. If he’s even there. Something tells him he isn’t. If he is, surely he would have found a way to get back.

Dean whispers his name, a private prayer of desperation. There’s still some dumb part of him that thinks he might just appear again, slightly dishevelled and annoyed at Dean for not looking after himself.

But he doesn’t.

The silence stretches and Dean contemplates hitting his head on the floor. If he does it hard enough, there’s a good chance it’ll knock him out for a while, maybe a few days if he’s lucky.

He tries to lift his head but it’s too heavy. A wave of panic rushes over him as he starts to feel paralyzed – trapped in his own body and smothered with grief.

“Cas?” He chokes, a fresh wave of tears rushing down his face. “You...you’re meant to come back. You always come back. You gotta...you gotta come back, man. Please. Please, I can’t - ”

I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.

With all his might, he rolls onto his side before he’s suffocated completely. His head spins as he turns, his stomach churns and his eyes roll back. When he finally passes out, he doesn’t see anything at all.

_

“The Empty?” Dean whispers, feeling cold.

“Yes.” Cas whispers back. He’s only whispering because Dean is. Dean feels completely normal about that and not giddy at all.

“What was it like?” He doesn’t want to know but has to ask all the same.

“Empty.” Cas says, deadpan.

“Oh ok, smartass – thanks for clearing that up!” Dean huffs good-naturedly and has to grip the railing until his knuckles turn white. He’s got so much happiness in him his body doesn’t know what to do with it. He feels energy thrumming through him and he has the sudden urge to start sprinting and laughing.

They’ve stopped at a motel on the drive back from Colorado to the Bunker. Sam is already asleep, hair all splayed out on his pillow like Sleeping Beauty. But Dean...well, Dean was dead for a couple of minutes today so he figures he’ll enjoy being alive for a bit longer. He leans on the rail overlooking the parking lot and lets the cool air fill his lungs.

He’s got company.

“How is Jack?” Cas asks, obviously expecting a better answer than the quick reassurance they’d given him earlier.

“He’s doing ok. I was...” Dean trails off, his good mood momentarily dipping into guilt. “I was kind of a dick to him at first - ”

“What a surprise.” Cas sighs, world-weary and affectionately irritated. Dean wants to make him sound like that every day.

“- but we’ve gotten better.” He knocks Cas’ shoulder with his. “I’ve gotten better.”

“Good.” Cas smiles at him and he has to grip the railing again.

Dean watches him stare up at the moon, the pearly light making him look as otherworldly as he is. Dean is reminded there are wings somewhere behind Cas. Broken, yes, but still there. It’s weirdly exciting that Cas isn’t human. A strange thrill shoots through him when he really thinks about it. He feels like one of those people who inadvertently tame some dangerous beast and have their photos taken with the thing sat on their couch with them. It’s that precious feeling that you’ve been chosen, that something that would normally kill you with a snap of jaws or a click of its fingers saw you and thought you were special. So it decided that it wanted you to live. That it wanted to spend time with you. That he wanted –

“Dean? You’re staring.” Cas turns back to him with a raised eyebrow and a slightly smug expression. “You usually tell me off for that.”

“Right.” Dean doesn’t stop looking. “It’s just...you’re back.You came back again.”

Cas’s expressions softens and he edges a little closer. Suddenly – wildly – Dean thinks if Cas kissed him now he’d be fine with it.

He doesn’t.

“It was suffocating.” He says instead. “The black emptiness was...all encompassing. Like no matter what I did or where I went, I would never escape the feeling of total despair. Of being painfully alone. It was like - ”

“Choking.” Dean says and swallows hard against his healing throat.

“Yes.” Cas’ fingers twitch on the railing and Dean thinks that if he moved his left pinkie, he could feel his skin. Cas’ hand drops before he can really contemplate doing it. “But I did escape.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s full of energy again, happiness buzzing around his body like a swarm of bumblebees. “You got out, man.”

“I was afraid that feeling would follow me. That I would still feel that fear no matter how far I ran.”

“And?”

“I don’t.” Cas turns to the moon again, bathed in pure light, eyes shining as bright as his grace. “I don’t feel scared at all.”

Dean blinks back the sting in his eyes and smiles. “Me neither.”

_

Dean pushes open the door with a sweaty palm.

Cas stands next to him, staring into the room with his lips slightly parted. Dean’s gaze lingers on them for moment before he drags his eyes away.

Just because Cas...said what he said, doesn’t mean he wants that. Maybe he didn’t really mean it. Or maybe he did mean it but like...friends. Best friends love each other. Of course they do. Sure, it did seemlike a momentous romantic confession made by a guy madly in love with his best friend before he sacrificed himself to save said best friend but maybe...maybe it wasn’t really like that.

“You did this for me?” Cas sounds almost tearful and Dean can’t look at him like that. It reminds too much of –

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat. “Well, Sam helped too. Turns out he’s kinda nerdy about plants too. But I bought ‘em all and watered ‘em and...Jack got you that stuffed bee, by the way.”

Cas steps inside the room and Dean can finally look up from his feet. His eyes go straight to Cas’ broad back, casually dressed in one of Sam’s sweaters. The sleeves are too long but Cas says he likes it. He’s wearing a pair of joggers that Dean kept aside for him and a pair of socks with a hole in the toe.

“I love it.”

Dean’s heart literally skips a beat. Great, he loves it. Loves it in the way he loves –

“Wanted you to have something to come back to, you know? I know this was always kinda your room but there was nothing in here and I thought...after what you said before about the Empty...thought you’d want something good to come back to. Bright and full of life...or whatever, I dunno. Just thought you might like it.”

“It’s incredible.”

Dean thinks that’s over stating it. It’s not that good. Not nearly enough to repay his debts. Not anywhere near what Cas deserves. He deserves a real home, a huge garden, a fucking mansion with butlers and people who bow to him and call him ‘sir’. Instead Dean has given him his old room back. Sure, it’s got a few shelves up, a new rug, bedding that Jack picked out called ‘jungle dreams’, a load of plants and a tall lamp that gives everything a nice glow but it’s still the same room.

Dean has never felt more pathetic.

Castiel is an angel. Ok, barely an angel now (and whose fault it that?) but still a celestial being. He might get tired sometimes, he might get hungry and he might be able to get drunk but he’s still an angel.

He’s still better.

Better than this stupid room, better than this miserable Bunker. Better than Dean.

“Is this your blanket?” Cas asks suddenly, plucking the Scooby-Doo fleece blanket from the bed.

Oh, that. “Uh, yeah. Thought you might get cold now. Don’t want you to get numb toes or nothin’.”

“That’s...” Dean isn’t prepared for the open, raw joy on Cas’ face when he looks up. It almost sends him reeling backwards out of the door. “That’s very kind of you. You didn’t have to do all of this. It’s...”

Stupid. Stupid plants, stupid lamp, stupid goddamn blanket.

“It’s wonderful.”

“It’s stupid.” Dean blurts, feeling awkward and childish. “Shoulda done something more. Shoulda got you - ”

“You got me.” Cas says firmly. “You got me out, Dean. You and Sam and Jack...I will never be able to thank you enough. And then to come back to this room that you worked so hard on, that you filled with things you knew I would like...there is nothing better than that in the whole world. The whole of creation. To be known and to be wanted is the best thing there is.”

Fuck.

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he say to that? What can he say that would ever compare to what Cas said? What he said before –

“Right. Ok. Great. That’s...good. I’ll just...” He gestures over his shoulder to the door. Being in here with Cas is too intense, like staring at the sun or holding your hand over an open flame. “You probably want to rest.”

Cas hesitates before saying, “Yes. I suppose I should. Thank you again for this. I really love it.”

“Yeah, man.” Dean almost winces. “No worries. I’ll just...leave you to it.”

He steps back into the open doorway, unwilling to take his eyes away from Cas because he’s here, in the room Dean has imagined him in for weeks. It’s kind of annoying that Cas doesn’t have the same trouble. He turns his back, wandering towards the plants on the shelves and gently touching the leaves.

Dean lingers, like a moth perched on a lightshade.

“Are you - ” Just leave. “Are you gonna be ok by yourself? I mean, you said before that it was lonely being in the Empty. Thought maybe you’d want company?”

Cas seems surprised when he faces Dean again. “Oh. Well, yes, of course. I would enjoy you staying for a while. But please don’t feel like you have to.”

The idea of Cas thinking he’s keeping Dean against his will is laughable.

“So, er - ” He sits on the bed, fingers clutching at his blanket. “What do you wanna do? I could get my laptop and we could watch a movie? Or we could watch one of those nature documentaries that kinda send me to sleep? You know the ones with the British guy with smooth voice - ”

“Actually, I should rest. I am quite tired.”

“Oh.” Dean tries to not look crushingly disappointed. “Right, yeah.”

“You could rest with me.” Cas says, just like that. Like it’s not a big deal at all. Like guy friends just clamber into bed with each other all the time and die for each other and confess their love for each other...

“Sure.” Dean’s mouth decides for him. “We could – we could do that.”

So they get into bed together.

Cas slides in as though this is his regular night time routine, looking totally at ease in his new ‘jungle dreams’ bedding and borrowed blanket. Dean’s hands shake as he lifts up the covers and slides in too. He waits for it to be weird, waits for discomfort and his father’s face swimming in front of eyes.

Instead, he just feels warm.

They’re led next to each other, unmoving and flat on their backs. Dean’s right leg is about to fall off the bed and Cas’ shoulder looks like it’s digging into the nightstand. Maybe this bed wasn’t made to fit two fully grown men too afraid to touch.

“Dean, are you comfortable? I am not.”

He laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, this isn’t great. Maybe if we...uh - ”

“What about if we do this?”

Cas’ hands are suddenly everywhere, manhandling him in a way that Dean has never experienced before but wouldn’t mind experiencing again. He ends up with his head resting on Cas’ chest, forehead pressed against his neck. His right leg has nowhere to go but to hook around Cas’ legs, entwining them together.

And Cas is holding him.

His arms are wrapped around him and not just because they haven’t got anywhere else to go. Because he wants them to go there. Because he wantsto hold Dean. Possibly all night.

Dean starts to panic.

Led like this, his ear is pressed against Cas’ chest – his heartbeat the loudest thing he can hear. What if someone breaks into the Bunker without him knowing? What if something is happening to Sam? To Jack? And he hasn’t even brought a gun with him. He squirms a little, debating on popping back to his room to get one when Cas says,

“Are you thinking about getting a weapon, Dean? I promise you, you won’t need it.”

Cas’ deep voice rumbles through his body, rocking him out of his spiralling worry so quickly Dean briefly wonders if he used some of his remaining slither of grace to do it.

“I would never let anything happen to you.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“An intruder? Judging by our current position, I assume I am the being most visible from the door.”

Dean’s fingers curl in Cas’ borrowed sweater. “You mean you’d be shot first?”

“Yes.” Dean feels his arms tighten around him for a moment. “And I believe my body would shield you from the vast majority of attacks.” He sighs and his breath tickles Dean’s hair. “Of course, if someone were to gain access to the Bunker, it’s likely they would be a supremely powerful being. That would reduce our chance of survival by quite a lot. However, if you really insist on being armed, I am confident that in the few seconds I could shield you, you could at least reach for a makeshift weapon. Whatever good it would do.”

“Right. But...” Dean doesn’t really feel comforted. “I don’t want you to...” He can’t quite say the word.

“Die?” Cas finishes for him as his fingers begin to move, leaving warm trails over Dean’s back. “No, I cannot say that I am enthused by the idea either. I have no desire to leave you again.”

“Not ever?” Dean asks and despises himself for the needy edge in his voice.

“Not ever.” His hands are moving now, big and slow in soothing motions against Dean’s back. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this. Mom, he thinks. When he was a kid. He knows he must look pathetic – six foot plus guy that’s been to hell and back being held like a baby. He should move, should pull away, wipe his eyes and tell Cas it’s time he went back to his own room.

He doesn’t want to.

“You love me.” He says instead, face burning and mouth dry.

He feels Cas smile against the crown of his head. “Yes.”

“You’re like...in love with me.”

One of Cas’ hands moves higher, fingertips trailing over the back of his neck leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Yes.”

Dean will never admit to the half moan, half whine he lets out. He buries his face in Cas’ chest and breathes him in. The smell of him fills Dean’s lungs and Cas’ arms start to feel like a weighted blanket, pressing gently on his body. It makes his eyes soft and his limbs heavy.

As he drifts off, he feels Cas’ lips brushing against his temple.

Dean wakes slowly.

He’s cocooned in softness and warmth and he has no desire to rush anything anymore – least of all to the leave the comfort of his (new) memory foam and his angel. He shifts a little, nuzzling his nose against stubble.

“I thought you were making breakfast.” Cas’ voice rolls over him slow and sweet like honey.

“Hmm.” A murmur, breathed into Cas’ neck, is all Dean can manage.

“Dean, you did promise them.” Cas says, with barely a hint of firmness. His voice is a little husky, like he’s still battling the urge to sleep.

“Oh, yeah? When?” Dean’s lips brush over warm skin.

“Last night.”

He pretends to forget. “Can’t take anything I said last night serious, Cas.”

“Oh?” He sounds a bit more awake now – that familiar dry, teasing tone creeping in.

Dean feels a pang of something in his chest so intense he almost squirms. “Alright, maybe some things were serious.”

“Hmm.” One of Cas’ hands rubs languid strokes up and down his back. “I should hope so.”

The memories come back easy and bright, playing like a dream behind Dean’s heavy eyelids. The stillness of their bedroom is punctuated by the sound of quiet voices in the living room. He grins at that, relishing waking up with the love of his life and his family just in the next room. Happy. Safe.

“Screw ‘em.” Dean says, more to himself than Cas and rubs his foot along his leg a few times, settling down again.

Cas doesn’t seem to have any objections. His hand strokes higher, fingers brushing through Dean’s hair and his blunt nails lightly graze his scalp.

Dean almost whines, his head lifting to follow the touch. He half opens his eyes again and sees a smile, unhurried and adoring. Cas leans down a little and kisses him, stubble rough and lips soft. Dean’s fingers curl against skin and his legs squeeze a muscled thigh beneath the blankets.

They stay that way for a while – bodies warm and entwined, gently greeting each other as the new day dawns. The rising sun has drenched the room in rich yellow light, soft and muffled through the curtains.

Cas’ hand is just caressing his hip and his tongue is getting hotter and more demanding in Dean’s very willing mouth when there’s a knock at the door.

“I know you’re both awake.” Sam’s voice rumbles through the door, amused and still a little sleep rough. “And don’t think we forgot about breakfast either. Eileen wants pancakes and she says I don’t make them right.”

“Not unhealthy enough!” Eileen voice calls out, a little further away.

Dean laughs against Cas’ lips.

“Alright, alright! Gimme five.”

As they slowly detangle, he catches a glimpse of silver as Cas stretches. Dean’s hand feels heavy and warm, like someone’s been holding it for hours. Dean yawns and dangles one leg out of bed, then another. He’s easing himself into the day, taking it a bit at a time.

He can do that now.

He laughs as Cas drags him in for one last kiss before he slides away, shoving his feet into his slippers and tugging on his trusty robe. His ties it around him and wanders, a little stiff-legged, to the window. He pulls back the curtains and from the bed Cas both grumbles and raises his face to meet the sunrise.

Dean watches the sun bathe him in bright light and remembers seeing him like this before. But then it was moonlight and he and Cas were at some shitty motel just out of Colorado. Not in their own house, not in theirbedroom. Dean has his first unbearably intense wave of wild happiness. It won’t be the last one today.

“I like having a window.”

“I liked having eyesight.” Cas mutters, burying himself into the covers.

Dean laughs and thwacks him on the thigh as he passes out the door. Cas’ll be up in his own time.

Four steps and Dean’s in the kitchen.

His brother is perched on one of the chairs at the little island separating the kitchen from the living room. Eileen is signing at him and he’s watching, completely enraptured, with a look of total adoration on his face. Dean would have laughed at him for that once. Now, he knows what it’s like when someone looks at him like that. Now he knows what it’s like to look at someone like that.

But he might still laugh a bit. That’s a big brother’s right.

“Mornin’!” He calls cheerily, rummaging in the fridge for eggs and milk. He emerges triumphant, plopping them onto the counter with a grin. “If the lady wants pancakes, the lady gets pancakes.”

“Best brother in law ever.” Eileen says and Sam almost falls off his seat. She just shrugs cheekily. “Unofficially.”

“For now.” Dean winks and Sam splutters.

“Right, well. Once you’ve finished marrying me off, can we get some breakfast?”

“Alright, alright!” Dean glares but he’s itching to get started. “Goddamn demanding baby. Eileen you could do so much better. Sadly, I’m already taken - ”

She laughs and so does Sam. He wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and she plays with his hair as they all talk. They talk about Jack getting hyperactive on sugared almonds, about Claire and Kaia wearing matching suits, about Jody and Donna getting drunk and singing karaoke until they were booed off the stage.

Then Cas stumbles out of their soft-lit room; hair wild and face crumpled. He bids them all good morning in a slightly rough tone before shuffling over for coffee. He cradles his mug in both hands as he leans against the corner counter, basking in the sun with his eyes closed.

Dean watches him, aching with joy.

Being in the dark with Cas is easy. But being with him in the light is better.

He twirls the whisk in his hand and it knocks against the ring on his left hand, so new it glows against his skin. Cas kisses his neck as he passes into the living room and Dean grins, looking up at his family.

“Hey, Eileen. What’s the sign for ‘husband’?”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 21, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Flute Solo

For some reason Wei Wuxian has decided to take a walk outside of the fortress, or behind the fortress, or something? Can people just take a stroll outside during wartime? Seems unwise.

There are guards and these extra-bossy crows herding some Wen prisoners along, and Wei Wuxian stands up above and gets totally overwhelmed by resentful energy.  

He falls to one knee while clutching his chest, in the spot where all cultivators seem to stow a bag of holding. I guess this is the Xuanwu sword? Or maybe it's his surgical incision; those things can take a while to finish healing. I think the golden core is further down in the abdomen, though; this is right over his heart. 

Wen Qing, Granny, and Fourth Uncle are in the group, but Wen Qing has her hood up so Wei Wuxian can't see her, and he's unlikely to remember the other two, since he only saw them that one time at the shrine, and he doesn't remember people he's literally had dinner with.  

The guards decide to be assholes and beat the shit out of a prisoner because he fell down, which inspires some extra aggressive crows to swoop in and attack the not-dead guy on the ground. That is...not how carrion-eaters behave, generally. They're pretty good about waiting for you to stop moving.

Wei Wuxian continues to struggle, obviously having an orgasm in a lot of pain, and starting to leak resentful energy.

(more after the cut)

He brings his flute up and starts playing it, which causes the wind to rise, rocks to fall from a nearby cliff, and the whole group of people on the ground under him to start having Yin Iron lines crawling up their faces.

Would Wen Qing be a beautiful fierce corpse? She would. 

Eventually Wei Wuxian stops torturing everybody, having gotten it out of his system for a bit, and stands up.  The group gets up, skin clearing up, and starts moving along again, a little shook. Wen Qing looks up and sees Wei Wuxian and hides her face in anguish.

She was there in the dungeon, listening to the same flute music, when he was resentfully slaughtering everyone around her in Yiling. Does she understand what she’s seeing, what he’s become? 

Her hood is off and it seems that he sees her, or at least that he is trying to figure out what he's seeing. But Jiang Yanli arrives before he can do more than look puzzled and cast his eyes around.  

Jiang Yanli asks him what just happened and he laughs and says it was the strong wind, in an extremely transparent lie that Yanli nearly chokes trying to swallow. She drags him back to the meeting while he continues to look troubled.

War Council

Meanwhile, the war council is meeting. This is mostly a boring rehash of stuff we already know, but someone has drawn a nice big map that's been installed in a custom frame. Because apparently the table with the mountains on it is not a good enough representation of "and then we will walk from our house to Wen Ruohan's house," which is basically their plan. The gist of this scene is that Wen Ruohan having the Yin Iron gives him an advantage, in case we needed to be reminded of that. 

The doors fly open and Wei Wuxian and his fabulous ass literally blow into the room. 

Everyone reacts in a comically extreme way. 

He casts his eyes malevolently and/or sexily over to Lan Wangji, who is still grumpy with him, while Jiang Cheng comes up and stands almost as close to him as Lan Wangji used to.

He tells everybody that he might have something to counteract the yin iron.

Everybody: Really? Do tell!  

Wei Wuxian: Happy to!

Wei Wuxian: *theatrical side-eye at judgy ex boyfriend* 

Wei Wuxian: Actually, nope.

He says "we'll see in about a month" while fondling whatever is hidden next to his ribcage.

This behavior, while ridiculous, isn't quite as absurd as it seems from a corporate-meeting standpoint. Part of what cultivators do is invent and refine spiritual tools. So when Wei Wuxian makes this speech, the people in the meeting are going to infer that he is creating a spiritual tool to counter the Yin Iron.

Now it's Lan Xichen's turn to ask everybody’s favorite question. Lan Xichen wasn’t at the party when everyone else asked him, and we're apparently supposed to believe these gossips haven't been talking about the not-sword-carrying 24x7.

Wei Wuxian says he's just not in the mood, and we get to see Lan Xichen's impressive ability to hold his face completely still while he represses his desire to slap someone.

Jin Zixun complains about Wei Wuxian after he leaves, but for once his bitching is on point; he correctly surmises that the counter to yin iron is...yin iron. 

Now, to be fair, the yin tiger amulet is different from the yin iron because it exists in the novel Wei Wuxian specially refines it to be more manageable than the sword it started from. And maybe it’s gel coated to be easier on the stomach. But it's basically the same shit.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exchange intense gazes, just to prove that the young people aren’t the only ones who know how to eye fuck. 

Lying Is Forbidden 

Lan Xichen talks to Lan Wangji, and we discover that Lan Wangji is perfectly capable of lying. He manages to maintain a reputation for not lying but I think the trick is that he just avoids talking in general, so when, for example, people in later years say "who's your masked boyfriend" he just doesn't answer, which isn't really lying. (How many times did Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen ask “where did you get this kid?” and just not get an answer, I wonder.) 

At other times he actually directly lies, as when he claims he is “just passing through” Yiling on a night hunt. The current conversation with Lan Xichen definitely involves actual lying.

Let's play multiple choice answers with the Lan brothers!

Q:  Why is WWX so confident we can have Yin Iron against WRH in a month? 

a.) Because he's been walking around with that Xuanwu sword for months, and it is obviously made of Yin iron b.) because he used a fucking ghost flute to flay Wen Chao more or less in front of me, so he is clearly down with some dark magics c.) I don’t know

Q: Was the death of people in the Yiling supervisory office really related to yin iron?

a.) obviously b.) maybe he was using some other source of overwhelming necromantic power c.) no, he’s not like that

Q. When you approached Yiling, was there anything unusual?

a.) yes, the talismans had been altered to draw in evil spirits b.) yes, everyone except his particular friend Wen Qing had killed themselves in horrifying, outlandish ways c.) are there rules already set for everything in the world?

Xichen, bless him, actually lets Lan Wangji change the subject like that and answers his question honestly.

Xichen: Actually, rules are pretty much shit Wangji: fucking hell, you're telling me this NOW? What have I been doing for the past 18 years then?

They both look just ridiculously beautiful in this conversation. Lan Wangji’s affect with his brother is so interesting. He’s trusting, emotionally open, willing to be seen...but only because he knows Lan Xichen won’t push past his barriers, won’t force him to speak the truth of what’s on his mind.

Awkwardness

The Yunmeng bros roll up, and awkwardness ensues. 

Wangji is frowning hard. His frowns are of the micro variety just like his smiles, but boy they are consistent and Wei Wuxian and Xichen both know how to read them.

Wei Wuxian gives Lan Xichen a small, sunny smile--it seems genuine, not like the fake ones he's trotting out on demand for his family. 

Then he gives Lan Wangji a pointed gaze of yearning and reproachfulness, which Lan Wangji returns, switching from frowning to a softer expression that seems about equal parts hurt, apology, and thirst.

Wei Wuxian reacts to that by bowing again and leaving, with Jiang Cheng quickly following, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Lans Xichen and Wangji pivot gracefully to watch them go, which Lan Wangji should know is not correct post-breakup behavior; you're supposed to act disinterested, my dude. 

And then Lan Xichen asks Lan Wangji what the fuck is going on. Lan Wangji gets one more lie in, saying he's not worried about Wei Wuxian, before reapplying his frown and walking away from the conversation.

Macroexpression Brothers

OP was wrong about Wei Wuxian not hugging Jiang Cheng any more--here he is hanging on him just like the old days, and Jiang Cheng is shoving him off, just like the old days. However, it emerges that this is mostly an act that WWX is putting on to seem normal. 

Jiang Cheng wants to know what's wrong between him and Lan Wangji, and asks why they broke up. Wei Wuxian points out that Jiang Cheng didn't like him dating Lan Wangji before, so why is he pushing him to get back together with him now, and Jiang Cheng says that now they're allies in a war, so Wei Wuxian needs to do his duty and help keep Lan Wangji in fighting trim, nudge nudge. 

Then he starts lecturing Wei Wuxian about sword cultivation and generally good behavior, and Wei Wuxian theatrically nods and give him appraising looks, telling him he really seems like a clan leader now.

Jiang Cheng headshakes this away. Wei Wuxian actually giving Jiang Cheng a sincere compliment here, disguised as teasing, and he's not wrong. Jiang Cheng has matured and is becoming a strong leader. Not strong enough to ignore peer pressure, but that’s true of most clan leaders in this environment. They’re not supposed to ignore peer pressure. 

Wei Wuxian is pointing it out for his own reasons - he doesn't want to be having this conversation - but it's nice to see him giving his clan leader his due.

Jiang Cheng walks away as Wei Wuxian smiles after him; as soon as he's out of sight the smile falls off of Wei Wuxian's face as fast as fast as gravity can take it. It's like someone snuffed a candle.

No one bites back as hard On their anger None of my pain and woe Can show through

But my dreams, they aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance that's never free

More Awkwardness

Lan Wangji and his ambivalence come looking for Wei Wuxian, standing outside his door and raising a hand to knock before changing his mind and fleeing. 

Lan Wangji is on the back foot for the first time in his relationship with Wei Wuxian; this boy who pursued and pursued and PURSUED him is now a man who won't speak to him.  This boy who hung on every one of his words, and saw through all of his minute facial expressions, has become a man who won't listen to him. Lan Wangji is in the position of pursuer, now, and it's not a role he's well equipped for.

Yanli stops him as he's bailing. He looks so relieved to see her, but he tries to escape immediately after greeting her. She stops him so she can ask what the fuck is going on. 

Unfortunately, Wei Wuxian rolls up while Lan Wangji is in the middle of talking to her.  He's telling her about the heterodox cultivation, and Wei Wuxian busts him. Wei Wuxian steps up and asks what he was telling her, and Lan Wangji says "Wei Ying," but doesn't get much further than that.

Nunya

Wei Wuxian reminds him that he told him to stay out of Jiang Clan business. Now, here I want to mention that "private" and "not your bidness" are culturally specific concepts. OP, for example, grew up in version of Irish-American culture so secretive that the problems of a person's life and (often) the cause of their death are things only discovered by whoever inherits their papers. [OP inherited 3 generations of letters a few years ago, and HOO BOY]

In the version of Chinese culture which we see in this drama, your choices, thoughts & troubles belong to the family and clan, not just to you.  Wei Wuxian, in shutting his elder sister out of his struggles, is not family-ing correctly. Jiang Yanli is right to try to get around that by asking his friend. His friend is also right to give her--in sanitized form--the information she is asking for. 

Wei Wuxian has zero trust in Lan Wangji at this point, unfortunately. He doesn’t know that Lan Wangji has been lying to cover for him; he just knows he’s being a grumpy aggressive holy roller. Now, when Lan Wangji has just been given permission to disregard all 3000 rules and look at a person’s heart, that person’s heart has been hardened against him. 

Yanli is used to dealing with Wei Wuxian's moods at this point -- after all, a lifetime of Jiang Cheng has got her used to volatile little brothers, and Wei Wuxian is clearly a new, not-improved man since his return. 

She tries to get him to chill out while Lan Wangji gives him a death glare -- not a return to the earlier generalized frown, more of a specific "I can't believe how full of shit you are" frown.

Wei Wuxian calls him Lan Er Gongzi, like a dick. Lan Wangji started this but at this point Wei Wuxian is kind of in the lead for who is being The Worst. Lan Wangji executes a beautiful 180 and walks away at top speed. 

Wei Wuxian asks Yanli if he talked about Yiling and when she says he didn't, he realizes he fucked up. 

He goes running after him and calls him Lan Zhan and says "listen to me" but Lan Wangji is no longer in a listening mood. 

Eat A Dick Sword

Lan Wangji is so far in his feelings at this point that he just hauls out his sword and goes after Wei Wuxian, taking complete control of the interaction and forcing Wei Wuxian to concede the fight. Aww, he’s so angry! I love him. 

This is a rough moment for Wei Wuxian. He really genuinely can't hold his own against Lan Wangji, unless he's going to directly use necromancy against him the way he does later in their final confrontation. 

When they first met he was able to defend himself on the rooftop without drawing his sword, but he's weaker now; Chenqing is an adequate hand weapon against most cultivators and puppets, but it's not a match for Lan Wangji's full attack. 

Wei Wuxian is not enjoying this fight, and can’t win in, so he just throws in the towel, exposing his throat and trusting Lan Wangji's control.

On the surface, this fight appears to re-establish their former rapport, but it puts them on such an uneven footing it might actually drive a larger wedge between them.  I think that Lan Wangji has made a strategic error in doing this.  

Lan Wangji seems to want to prove to Wei Wuxian that his new style of cultivation is inadequate, that he would do better with a sword. Swordplay was the beginning of their relationship; their matched power was the source of their mutual attraction. Lan Wangji can't accept that Wei Wuxian has given it up; he doesn't (yet) respect his agency enough to assume that he has a good reason.

This fight functions as yet another punishment that Lan Wangji doles out to Wei Wuxian; not a physical one, this time, but a psychological one, and their relationship pays the price. 

By attacking Wei Wuxian and forcing him to concede, Lan Wangji is showing that they're unequal. By criticizing Wei Wuxian's lack of progress and asking him the same goddamn question everybody else is asking him -- where is your sword? -- Lan Wangji is humiliating him. 

This encounter does not re-establish Wei Wuxian’s trust in him; it just forces him to accept Lan Wangji’s authority, for now. Which is not what either of them really wants. 

Soundtrack: Behind Blue Eyes, by The Who

Writing Prompt: What would Wei Wuxian have said if Lan Wangji had listened to him instead of drawing his sword?

[emotions-ew]

A Collection of Queer Country Artists and Songs for anyone who doesn’t feel like there’s country music they can relate to...

There is this idea that country music is like just Republican men singing about beer, and trucks and also Jesus,  and that is kind of fair because loads of it is but there are some cool as hell queer/lgbtq+ country artists. Finding those and finding that representation in a genre of music I was literally raised on kind of changed my life in a tiny way and I wanted to share that.

(This is by no means a comprehensive list and also I’m basing the “Country” part of this sometimes on my subjective opinion/limited music knowledge so yuh please don’t hate me if I get some wrong)

Also link below for a Spotify playlist of my favourite gay/gayish country music, some mentioned in this post some not, (with a title that isn’t obviously gay for anyone who can’t openly listen to gay stuff on their public accounts for whatever reason) so feel free to skip the massive essay and just jump straight to that. And pretty please repost if I missed anyone/ any songs you love.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7KB6PmUxnpkU7lih8Bysvw

Artists To Follow:

Chely Wright

- Right off the bat, Chely Wright is a legend and I’m in love with her. So, in the 90′s Chely Wright was kind of a huge deal. She started her career as a singer/songwriter and released her first album in ‘94, which was critically acclaimed although never reached the commercial success of her later works. By ‘97 she was really hitting her stride, dropping her breakout hit “Shut up and Drive” (a personal favourite of mine) followed two years later by the biggest hit of her career “Single White Female”. Throughout all that Chely Wright was, to the world, a good old fashioned, heterosexual southern gal. Privately it was a bit of a different story. She had public relationships with male country artists, all while pursuing a secret decade long relationship with a woman. 

I hadn’t ever really heard a Chely Wright song until a few years ago so I never knew about her music or career pre-coming out but I do know that even though by the time she came out in 2010 she was by no means at the height of her fame Chely Wright is kind of one of the biggest names in country music to be out and proud (in my opinion) and I love her like an insane amount. I literally play her music in my car when I have passengers just so I can be like “fun fact this singer is actually gay-” and then subject them to a lengthy explanation of her entire career. She came out with an album and a memoir and the album is my favourite of her work because it’s so fucking raw and because I relate to most of it immensely. Anyways Chely Wright went fucking through it in her journey to being her authentic self and now she’s out and proud and married to a woman and they have a family together and I’m a fucking sucker for a happy ending and y’all should add her to every playlist you have. And on top of that her music is genuinely good. Coming out undoubtedly damaged her career but I think that

Brandi Carlile 

- As far as I can tell Brandi Carlile has been out her whole career. I feel like this list is just going to be me saying “I’m in love with her” about a bunch of women old enough to be my mother but in my defence, I am honestly in love with her. She’s been making music since she was like, seventeen, and has had a bunch of massive hits, as a singer, songwriter, and producer. If you want to cry kind of happy tears listen to her performance of “Bring my Flowers Now” with Tanya Tucker. She’s won Grammy’s and CMT awards and she’s done it all as an out Queer woman. She’s also a founding member of The Highwomen, an all-female country music group who released their first album in 2019, comprised of Carlile, Marren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires. I really love this band because they’re four artists who are immensely successfully in their own right collabing, much like the Highwaymen, and their music is phenomenal while also being a fuck you to mainstream country music and their inability to properly represent women in country music spaces. 

She’s been married to a woman (smoking hot and also brilliant) since 2012 and they have two kids together and if you want to cry (again) then you have to listen to her song “Mother” about her eldest daughter. A queer country artist absolutely worth adding to all your playlists. 

Brooke Eden

- As I understand it Eden came out publicly in January of this year. She’s engaged to Hilary Hoover, who she’s been dating since 2015 apparently. I can’t even imagine the pressure that must be on a person and how stressful it would be to keep a relationship secret from the whole world for years and personally I think they’re a cute as hell couple and I wish them literally all the happiness in the world. 

Brooke Eden has a few older songs that I think are really good, my favourite being “Act Like You Don’t”, and while her new stuff isn’t my usual country vibe I am a sucker for literally anything gay and it is legally my gay duty to stream any song that she releases to support my fellow queer. It’s quite different to anything Wright or Carlile sing but I actually kind of love that because it shows that country music of all different shapes and sizes and styles can be sung by queer artists. 

Amythyst Kiah

- Okay so I am a very new listener to Amythyst Kiah, but her music is literally so beautiful it would be a straight up sin to not include her on this list. Her music is country-blues-roots esq (more roots than country, I think?) and her voice is so unique. She grew up in Chattanooga and has been playing music since childhood. She recently made her Opry debut which is fucking awesome. She also belongs to a band called Our Native Daughters, described as “A supergroup of Black women in traditional music”. Their debut album “Songs of Our Native Daughters” did numbers and I haven’t listened to the whole thing but my favourite so far are “Black Myself” and “I Knew I Could Fly” so y’all add that to your playlists along with “Wild Turkey” by Amythyst Kiah because holy hell her voice on that will blow your mind.

Steve Grand

-        The first man to make this list, he should frankly be honoured. Grand has been an out and proud gay man making country music since like 2013, and I have so much respect for an artist who chose to simply never be in, choosing instead to simply write gay ass songs about being in love with men and letting the chips fall where they man. His music is always going to have a special place in my heart and, he’s cute so if you’re into men and music by men give him a google. add him to your playlists, his All-American Boy album is literally just a dozen songs that are perfect to yell-sing along to.

Katie Pruitt

-        Not hugely knowledgeable on Katie Pruitt but her music makes me feel crazy intense emotions and is absolutely gay

 Honorable Mention Artists I haven’t Really Listened to But Who I Know to be gay thanks to google and might be your thing so totally check them out:

Brandy Clark

Ty Herndon

Shelly Fairchild

Lavendar Country

Trixie Mattel

Cameron Hawthorn

Drop any other names of artists or songs you know of 

 Specific Songs That Make Me Fucking Cry or (in good and bad ways (but always in a gay way)) or basically are just gay as hell:

If She Ever Leaves Me; The Highwomen

- So, this album came out about a week before my first (and only) girlfriend broke up with me. The general gist of the song is a woman singing about how her loved isn’t ever going to leave her but if she does it sure as hell won’t be for a creepy man in a bar. A little ironic that I felt I related to it so intensely, considering she did in fact leave me. There’s this one lyric that goes “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve lover here out loud/the sky hasn’t always been blue” and my girlfriend and I were crazy deep in the closet so I drew her a cute little picture of a grey cloud and on the back I wrote that lyric and I gave it to her and to me it was kind of a promise that one day I’d get a chance to love her out loud and even though I never actually did this song is forever going to make me cry because of the little bit of hope that lyric gave me and the way it’s inclusion on this overwhelmingly mainstream country album made me feel like acceptance was just that little bit closer. 

 All American Boy; Steve Grand

- Definitely one of the first gay country songs I ever heard, and Steve Grand didn’t once sacrifice a scrap of country for the gay. It’s beautiful, it’s a little sad, it’s hopeful. It’s forever going to hold a special place in my heart and the music videos is kind of one of my favourites ever. I found this song before I found myself and the way it made my heart warm should have been a stronger sign than I took it to be. 

Like Me; Chely Wright

- When you love someone you kind of make it your mission to know them in a way that no one else can. This song by Chely Wright is sort of an ode to that, and how even once you lost someone, you’re still going to know every little thing about them. On top of that it sort of speaks to the idea that all these things Wright learned about this woman, she learned in secret and she knew her and loved her in secret and now that they’re gone from each other she’s left with all of this knowledge and all of these questions and no one to answer them. I love the way it’s so slow and the melody and her voice, the way it’s low and a little raspy, make this one of my favourite Chely Wright songs.

The Mother; Brandi Carlile

-        Sorry but a song about being a mother by a queer woman is going to make me cry every time and actually I’m not that sorry. It’s quite a simple song, if any song written by Brandi Carlile can ever be described as ‘simple’, it’s an ode to her daughter. My favourite line is “you are not an accident/where no one thought it through” because it speaks to the fact that in order for queer women to have a kid together they have to want it so damn bad and also I just like the way her voice sounds on that line. This song is also the perfect thing to listen to if you ever for a second feel like being gay/queer is going to stand in the way of you having a family because it absolutely doesn’t have to and if that’s something you want, you can have it. Don’t let people try and convince you otherwise.

Loving Her; Katie Pruitt

-        Unapologetic gay love. Opening a song with “If loving hers a sin, I don’t wanna go to heaven” is a fucking baller move and she went there. The lyrics are beautiful, and her voice is phenomenal. It could be a sad song, about confronting religious repression and grappling with what that means for your love, but instead its triumphant. Katie Pruitt doesn’t give a fuck if you have a problem because she’s going to write songs for her lover.

Jesus From Texas; Semler

-        Not actually totally sure this is a country song, but it has the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘Texas’ in the title so I feel safe including it in this list. Honestly, I don’t really know why I relate so hard to this song. Like, I wasn’t really raised with religion, so I don’t know what it is about this funky little tune that makes me want to sob but there’s something about this tune that makes me want to do whatever the opposite of get up and dance is, but like, in a good way.

Lovin’ Again; Steve Grand

-        Breakup song that ends kind of positively? So good to sing along to at high, high volumes. The idea that losing someone doesn’t have to mean losing yourself and just because you can’t love them doesn’t mean you’re not ever going to love again. But also kind of about how it’s hard to get over someone, I don’t know it’s just good.

Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears; Lavender Country

-        Jesus christ if this isn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Sorry but a gay country group formed in 1972 who dropped possibly the first gay themed country album, and this was the title of one of the songs. God I am in love.

 Songs that (to me) are a little fruity or that I just relate to in a gay way:

Picket Fences; Chely Wright

-          Chely Wright is gay but this song came out long before she did and when she wrote it, it wasn’t supposed to be gay which is why it’s in this section and not the previous. The reason it’s included at all is because frankly ma’am, Mrs Wright, it’s a little fruity. And I feel a little bad for joking because honestly to me, the way I hear this song and knowing the context (that Wright was deeply closeted at the time she wrote and released it), it’s kind of just sad. The general gist of the song is Wright asking what’s so great about a traditional lifestyle anyways. It could be read as a woman genuinely questioning why we push that expectation that she’ll have two kids and a husband and a picket fence lifestyle, or even could be read as a woman who’s trying to deflect how much she does in fact want that, you have to listen and form your own opinion. But to me, it feels like a woman who’s desperately trying to justify why she doesn’t want that life not because she can’t have it, but she knows it will never be right for her. I don’t know it’s hard to explain I just feel like this song is a little bit gay even though I’m sure she didn’t intend that.

Sinning with You; Sam Hunt

-          Sorry but this song is gay. Sorry but you can’t write the lines “I never felt like I was sinning with you/Always felt like I could talk to God in the morning” and “if it’s so wrong why did it feel so right” and “But I never felt shame, never felt sorry/Never felt guilty touching your body” and not to mention the opening line of “raised in the first pew/praises for yeshua/case of a small town repression”, and expect to not sit in my car sobbing as I realised that while I never felt like what we did was a sin she absolutely did, and wishing I could have told her that I was sorry for making her carry the weight of both our souls but also that it wasn’t a sin and nothing in the world could feel that good and be that bad and it isn’t right that she had to be so ashamed of something that was just so good. Sam Hunt actually said after he wrote the song that while it was reflection on his own relationship with faith he genuinely hopes that people in the lgbtq community can like find comfort or whatever in his words and like go off king, we stan an ally.

  How do I Get There; Deana Carter

-          This ones easy, it’s about falling in love with your best friend and suddenly realising you want more than just friendship with them. Sorry Deana, that’s gay. In my Deana Carter of like Year 10 I played this song on repeat and screamed along to the lyrics as though singing it hard enough would make her like me back.

[my-writings-and-musings]

TFA Bulkhead/Bumblebee

Bulkhead, hoping to paint Bumblebee, finds a number of unexpected hurdles in the form of a willing but very fidgety model.

Got a lovely commission that the commissioner was okay with me sharing, so here it is! I had so much fun writing this, and remember, I'm always open if you'd like a fic for yourself.

Working up courage wasn't something one had to do often when they were as big and strong as Bulkhead, but he'd needed every bit he could spare to approach Bumblebee with what he'd feared was a ridiculous request. The fact he could expect his friend to say yes had brought him little comfort, because being rejected just scared him too much. He didn't want to admit how long it had taken him to prepare…

But finally, the day had come, and he approached the little bot as one might an armed explosive.

"Uh… Bumblebee?" he spoke softly, tapping his big servos together to try and call himself down. Bumblebee was relaxing and watching something on TV, and Bulkhead was so nervous he couldn't even tell what. Primus, he was just grateful they were alone, or else this would have been impossible! Bumblebee thankfully noticed him right away, lifting his helm to look at his friend with a smile.

"What's up, Bulk?" he said in greeting, half turning back to the television before doing an actual double take back to the big bot. Concern crossed his features, and he raised a curious brow ridge before he spoke again. "You feeling okay?"

Bulkhead realized just then that his nervousness was probably showing through like a beacon, and he gulped in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to disappear on the spot. Just his luck that things would already be going poorly… Steeling himself, he took a deep vent and put on the biggest smile he could manage. "Yeah, f-fine!" he gasped out, trying not to tremble. Wishing he'd written down what he wanted to say, he just managed to put some words together and speak, hoping he didn't look as ridiculous as he felt. "I just wanted… wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Bumblebee asked, expression not changing once. Near to collapsing, Bulkhead soldiered on, wondering with every word if he'd made a huge mistake.

"Well you… you know I've been painting a lot lately, and I was wondering…" he gulped again, closing in on the final thing he'd come to ask and hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake in the process. If this worked, it might just be the happiest day of his life…

"I'm kind of tired of painting trees and flowers… could I paint… you?" he asked, not even waiting for a reply before he clarified extensively. "Paint a picture of you, I mean! Like… would you want to model for a painting? That's… what I meant…"

"Oh, model?" Bumblebee repeated, optics lighting up like a supernova as he repeated the word. Bulkhead felt relief like nothing he'd ever experienced wash over him as the question got exactly the answer he hadn't dared to hope for, enough so that he struggled to stay standing as he sighed. Bumblebee hopped upright and stretched, lean little frame already eager to get moving as he stepped beside his much larger friend. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"Yeah, sure!" Bulkhead said with enthusiasm, trying his hardest not to cry a few happy tears at the turn of events. Moving as fast as he could, he followed Bee to his room, where all of his supplies were waiting for them in the unlikely event this worked out. The big bot had done everything in his power to get all the paint and brushes he would need if Bee said yes, so hopefully he did indeed have enough, or at least what he'd require to get started. He'd gotten so many shades of yellow…

When they arrived to his room, he briefly scolded himself for not fixing it up better, not that Bumblebee ever bothered to clean his own room, but he wanted to be a good host.

Pointing to the smushed couch he sometimes liked to relax on, which was also in a good spot for lighting, he tried to ensure he was calm despite his still fluttering nerves. "You can, uh, pose however you like. How about there?" 

"Sure, sounds fun!" Bumblebee replied, quite enthusiastic as he hopped on over. Not minding that the furniture was beyond lumpy, he began finding a comfortable way for his frame to lay, moving his tiny self about as Bulkhead got everything ready. Trying not to blush at how happy he was, the big bot grabbed a spare canvas and his favorite cans of paint, along with a few brushes in his size. Someday he'd have to properly thank Sari for introducing him to art, and being kind enough to provide tools in his size as well. When his easel was in place, he looked up to see Numb laying himself over the couch and grinning in his usual goofy way. "Paint me like one of your French bots, Bulkhead…"

Even if he hadn't been so distracted by what he was feeling, the big bot would have had no ability to make sense of what he'd just heard. All he could manage was a one word reply of total bafflement. "...What?"

"It's a… a human quote. I don't get it either." Bumblebee mumbled in reply, likely referencing some movie he and Sari had watched together at some point. Not wanting his friend to feel awkward, Bulkhead happily helped the conversation continue, smiling as he grabbed a brush.

"Oh, well um… how about we start small? Just sketches and stuff, you know?" he offered, trying to think of the best way to proceed. It was hard to plan much of anything when he was this happy, especially because he didn't want Bee to know how he felt, in more ways than one. He had to keep going as if this was just a casual thing, and not something that really meant the world to him.

"Works for me, just don't forget to get my good side… which is all of me." Bee said proudly, striking a pose and grinning as he did so. It was a perfectly in character position, so Bulkhead got to work right away, carefully articulating his large digits to control the brush. While small mistakes were just part of the process for painting, he didn't want to make one here. This piece was going to be perfect, so every stroke had to be the same, and thus his digits had an almost vice-like grip. It didn't escape his attention how few bots got to pursue their greatest wish like he was doing now. Keeping his smile to himself, he cast his optics to Bumblebee and back to the canvas, wanting to have the perfect grasp of scale before he began. Having a friend with such particular proportions wasn't going to make this any easier.

Sticking with the core of his muse, he made a few careful strokes to get the basic gist of his friend's pose, hoping to capture both his sense of excitability and his current relaxed mood. It would be hard, but he was more than up for the challenge. This would be worth every last second of work...

"Actually, hang on, my arm looks better like this."

Bumblebee surprised him with the words and the sudden movement he made to match, his arm swinging about to rest almost opposite to its original pose. As he hadn't yet started drawing that particular spot, Bulkhead let it go, having expected a little bit of restlessness. It was also only fair that Bee liked the final result and was comfortable with the process. Getting back to work, the big bot wondered if his friend's face might be a good place to start. His horns certainly added an additional detail for him to take into consideration… Perhaps he'd ask if Bee wanted his face to be more in profile or at an angle. All he wanted was to capture the essence of the bot he was so close to.

Bumblebee coughed, optics looking about bashfully as he blushed and shifted on the couch to move his other arm. It wasn't a big move, but the small bit clearly realized it was inconvenient, and looked guilty for the move. "Need to change this too, it's not working. This look better?"

"Oh uh… yeah!" Bulkhead replied quickly, uncertain how he should respond beyond acceptance as the last thing he wanted was for this to be uncomfortable for either of them. Some small changes would need to be made to what was already on the canvas, but that was hardly a bother. Getting more paint on his brush, he tried to work a little faster as he got the bottom layer established. Not that he didn't trust Bee to keep his word, but the little bot often fidgeted without even meaning to. Sticking out his glossa in concentration, Bulkhead worked fast, using up a fair amount of paint as he got what he presumed to be the core of the piece. Next would come the much tricker details…

Or at least they would have, if he hadn't glanced up to see Bumblebee in a completely different pose and half asleep...

"Bumblebee?" he said on reflex, coughing to try and gain his friend's attention. Startling awake, the little bot looked around in surprise, seeming to have forgotten exactly where he was and what was going on. When recognition dawned on his features, embarrassment wasn't far behind. A light blush lit up his cheeks as he shrunk down on the couch.

"Scrap, sorry, wasn't thinking." he apologized, trying to remember how he had originally been posed and failing to do so. Bulkhead felt a bit of frustration stirring, but he kept it well under wraps. Just because this wasn't going according to plan, didn't mean he was going to give up.

"That's okay! Just… need a new canvas." he said, keeping his smile even if he was a little more flustered. With a little bit of white paint he could salvage the canvas and use it later for something else, plus it wasn't like Sari didn't provide him with plenty of supplies. Getting set up all over again, he looked back to Bumblebee, who was once again settled in what appeared to be his position of choice. Hoping to begin in earnest, he was careful as could be when he broached the question on his mind. "Is that the pose you want?"

"Definitely!" Bumblebee said enthusiastically, giving him hope that he'd be able to paint for real this time. Not wasting even a moment, he painted as fast as he could, glancing back and forth between the painting and his subject to make the process as smooth as possible. It was an effective strategy, as it allowed him to get the outline twice as fast. This time he wanted to fully capture his friend in the picture as he'd been trying from the start. Some part of him just knew it would be worth it, and that they'd both be thankful he put in all this effort.

Or, at least, he thought he knew...

"Actually, sorry about this, but…" Bumblebee was bashful but not especially hesitant as he moved to lay on his side, stretching as he moved into an entirely different position. The poor artist felt his spark drop at the loss of progress all over again, even as his friend tried to cheer them both up by looking as chipper as possible. "That was so much more uncomfortable than I was expecting. Go on!"

Bulkhead didn't say a word as he grabbed another canvas, and did his very best not to look as discouraged as he felt. It didn't seem like this was going to stop any time soon, as much as he wished it would, and that didn't bode well for his wish to get this done. Perhaps he'd been far too hopeful…

Still, he did everything in his power to stay positive and make the painting he'd dreamed of become a reality.

Painting faster than he ever had in his entire life, the big bot ignored the imperfections that came from moving so rapidly, setting his jaw tight as little flecks of paint spattered across the canvas. At this point, such little things hardly seemed to mind. What really mattered was getting this done. A familiar form began to take recognizable shape on the canvas, and the artist started to plan ahead for his next move from then on. Shading would come after these little details, which he'd be able to put together thanks to having a lot of his friend's appearance memorized. Hope blossomed in his spark as he finally saw Bumblebee in the picture he was painting.

Getting so close to what he wanted made seeing a repeat of what had happened before hurt more than it should have.

Catching himself, Bumblebee blushed and shrunk down on the spot, smiling bashfully in apology for his unintentional movement. It really wasn't something he was doing on purpose; he wanted to see his friend happy! Sitting still just didn't work for him. Seeing Bulkhead look hurt, however, made him feel especially bad for the mistake.

"I don't think this is a good idea." Bulkhead said with a sigh, putting yet another canvas to the side and looking quite deflated as he did so. There wasn't anything he could think to do that might change this, and he was ready to just throw in the towel. Perhaps this was just the one thing he wasn't meant to paint.

"Aw come on, why not?" Bumblebee pressed, aware of the answer but hoping there was something he could do to fix it. Staying still just wasn't in his programming, but perhaps… he could get some tape? That wasn't realistic, but he wanted to try something to make up for this. Bulkhead only sighed again.

"You won't stay still?" he said simply, frustrated but not antagonistic in his summation. It was something neither of them could change, and that left both more than a little helpless.

"I…" Bumblebee stuttered off, tapping his digits together as he saw his friend get even more sad. Unable to help getting a little defensive, he got up from the couch, throwing up his arms as the big bot cleaned up some of the mess. "Come on, Bulk! You know me! Staying still isn't my thing, and I can't force that!"

"Well yeah, but… couldn't you just stay mostly still?" Bulkhead asked, still not ready to just give up all at once. Even if he had no idea how to fix things or make it work, he wanted this painting too much to just give up, no matter how many canvases it took. All he needed was a little bit more time than he had been getting. His determination must have shown, because Bumblebee furrowed his brow ridges in consideration.

"I… I can try! I…" he faded off as the pressure weighed on him, and thankfully his friend caught that quickly. To be clear; he wanted this a lot, but he could never want anything badly enough to make Bumblebee uncomfortable. Perhaps it was best they rested a bit, to restore their patience and approach this with clearer heads. He certainly needed a minute to relax from all this frustration...

"How about a break? We've been trying for a while, maybe a bit of down time will help." he proposed, already feeling a little better at the prospect of cooling down. Bumblebee shared the sentiment straight away, visibly relaxing on the spot and letting out a tiny sigh of his own. 

"Great idea Bulk! Let me just grab something…" he said happily, darting off and leaving the big bot alone with his supplies. Deciding to clean a bit to ease his mind, Bulkhead sorted the discarded canvases, hoping that he could paint over the unusable pictures with some white and reuse them. Seeing how much and how little progress he'd made at the same time made him wonder how he might improve on their next attempt. Nothing was coming to mind just yet, but that didn't mean he had lost hope. There had to be something on this planet that would motivate Bee to stay still, and by Primus he would find it!

As he was wiping up some paint that had managed to drip onto the floor, Bumblebee quite literally skidded back into the room, coming to a dead stop after running at full tilt. 

"I'm back! Just wanted to grab my game!" the little bot declared happily, waving the device about as he went to sit back on the smushed couch. The game had been a gift from Sari as well; some kind of earth console that had been sized up a few times over to better fit the servos of a Cybertronian. Smiling in acknowledgement, the big bot nodded as he went back to cleaning. Digital music met his audials as his friend started up the system and began to play, reclining on the couch as he settled in for a much needed break. Bulkhead had only had middling success with the games popular on earth, owed in large part to his size, but he was at least happy his friend could have some much needed fun with them. 

When the floor was finally cleaned up, he took stock of his slightly diminished inventory. There was still plenty of paint, and more than a few canvases, but if they continued at their current pace… He'd have to figure out a strategy before they tried this again, because otherwise this just wasn't going to work. Looking up at Bumblebee, he briefly considered proposing that they try this another day before his thoughts were systematically interrupted. 

Laying on his back over the pile of stuffing that had once been a couch, the small mech was entirely engrossed in his digital world, optics focused only on the screen as his digits rapidly tapped away on the controls. Other than the occasional shift of his expression, he was entirely motionless. It took Bulkhead a moment to process what he was seeing. Bumblebee was so rarely still, and never for this length of time… He didn't need to think much before he was reacting the only way he could.

Moving as silently as a mech of his size was able to, he grabbed what he needed, gathering his paints around himself as he got a fresh canvas and sat down before his easel. He couldn't have asked for a better setup; the pose, the lighting, it was all perfect. It was almost too much to hope this was real. Considering how many false starts he'd had, most could probably understand why he felt that way.

Daring to take his time, the big bot made every brush stroke count, trying to think of all the reasons he liked Bee so much as he made each one. His friend was confident, energetic, brave… All those thoughts motivated him every second he worked, and the results were soon apparent. The form of Bumblebee began to take shape rather quickly, coming together far more smoothly thanks to how relaxed he was. A base layer was ready to go in what felt like only a few minutes.

Oblivious to everything, Bumblebee kept right on playing, occasionally sticking his glossa out as he did so. Bulkhead contemplated including that detail in the piece, but ultimately decided against it. This was going to be a somewhat more dignified painting than that. 

When the time came to add lighting, he was almost over the moon, but he kept all the excitement to himself. Colors mixed together beautifully on his palette, forming the light and dark shades to the vibrant yellows and deep blacks that made up his friend's paint job. It was far more satisfying than painting even the most beautiful landscape he'd ever seen. Perhaps he was just a little biased on that front, but he did believe that painting things you truly cared about just brought them to life. One only had to glance at this piece to understand how much this bot meant to him.

It almost seemed like he was dreaming when each and every glance revealed Bumblebee to be sitting perfectly still, without a hint of movement beyond the minor. If this did turn out to be a dream, he'd at least be happy it was going so well. Fate had truly designed the perfect setup for them to finally get this done without any stress for either individual. 

Everything came together with what felt like only a few of the most well done strokes he'd ever painted. At long last, the bot he'd wanted to paint so badly had been captured on canvas! It was so exciting he couldn't hold back an exclamation as he set his brush down theatrically.

"Done!"

"Huh?!" Bumblebee gasped, half jumping on the spot as his game nearly flew from his servos. Looking about in a daze, he put the pieces together when he saw his friend, at which point guilt crossed his features. Time had slipped away from him even more so than it had for the very busy Bulkhead. "What? I… oh, Bulk! I didn't mean to get distracted! You could have stopped me earlier, I wouldn't have minded."

Waving off the appreciated but unnecessary apology, the big bot only smiled and wiped some paint from his servos, rising from his chair to puff his chest out with pride. "That's okay, I'm already finished."

"How?" the little bot gasped in awe, checking his internal chronometer to see just how long he'd been wrapped up in his game. It had only felt like a few minutes, but this wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten lost in a video game.

"Well, you were pretty content playing your game, so…" Bulkhead allowed his friend to put the rest of the pieces together, and in no time understanding dawned on the little mech. 

"Oh, I gotcha!" Bumblebee replied happily, quite relieved to have not held them up. If playing video games was what it had taken to make his friend happy, then he was quite fine with that. All he wanted was to get a look at the results, which he was certain would be incredible. "Here, let me see!"

Feeling a bit of shyness amongst his pride, Bulkhead handed over the canvas, careful to avoid the still drying paint.

"This is amazing!" Bumblebee proclaimed without hesitation, trying to be delicate even as he felt a surge of excitement upon beholding the painting. Of course he knew his friend had talent, but this was incredible! "Look at me, I look even better than usual!"

Bulkhead looked down to the floor and shuffled his pedes, doing his best to hide the blush creeping along his cheeks. "Well, I had a pretty great model."

"That's gonna sell fast, Bulkhead. No doubt about it." Bumblebee praised as he gave the painting back, confident in what he was saying. It didn't hurt that he was a good looking bot, but his friend had really done an especially good job on this one, and he was sure it would be bought up in no time. Taking the piece, the big bot smiled softly as he beheld it again. It had taken a lot of courage for him to get this, and he was quite proud of himself for that. As such, he held the painting very near and dear to his spark.

"Maybe, but… I think I'm gonna keep it, actually." he said softly, wanting to see it every day. There was a perfect place for it where he could do just that, not that he would say where that was. Bumblebee didn't mind the decision in the slightest.

However, when the little bot ducked in his friend's room later to pick up a borrowed item, he learned the true value of the painting to Bulkhead. On a wall reserved for only his most precious of works, the portrait sat high in a position of honor. Usually unable to say everything that came to mind due to overwhelming volume, Bee had been rendered speechless by the sight. Only a soft smile revealed how touched he was by the gesture. 

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe haven.

A/N: Don’t mind me, just giving J a normal high school romance--one where his family is not involved. Set in S1 of Animal Kingdom. First time writing for this guy, so let me know what you think 

Pairing: Josh Cody x Black!OC

Rating: 💙 A soft piece with the youngest Cody, and the girl he tries to keep secret from his new found family. 

Request: Convincing J to study bc he's too caught up in the family business to worry about midterms

Words: 3.3k

Josh tightens his grip, crushing the letter in his hand. Left inside the unaddressed envelope, the letter remains unread. There is no point in reading it. J got the gist of the letter from the conversation with the counselor. He discards the crumpled mess in a nearby trash can.

The end of the school week produces a flood of excited teenagers emptying into the parking lot.

J's mind is on the previously discarded letter.

It was a letter of truancy, addressed to his grandmother, his current guardian. It has been months since the passing of J's mother. The school's patience has spread thin. His grades have not dropped, but his attendance has.

His mind is on the letter when he fishes his keys out of his front pocket. His pace slows before he comes to a complete stop a few feet short of his truck. The truck is where he left it, but there's a new addition.

It now has a powder blue backpack on the hood. Seated beside the backpack is the prettiest girl in school.

Cori Edwards has a familiar pair of black shades concealing her dark brown eyes -- now J remembers where he left them. She has abandoned the denim jacket he caught a glimpse of her in earlier. A knowing smile spreads across her face as she watches his eyes linger on the sundress she wears. As his eyes return to hers, J can't deny the smile on his lips.

The last time he saw Cori, for longer than the brief seconds they pass in the halls, was a month ago. This year, it appeared fate wanted to test the two. They had the same classes, the same teachers, but never at the same time. A few months ago, this meant they spent all of their free time stealing kisses at lunch and in the halls. They would then make up for lost time as soon as the school bell rang.

But things have changed too much. 

J's mother didn't keep track of his movements. His grandmother and uncles, J came to learn, analyze his actions. Keeping secrets has become second nature to him since moving into the Cody House. The one secret he swore he'd never reveal was Cori. He hasn't introduced her to Smurf or his uncles. He hasn't shared much about how his life has changed, upon his moving into their house, with Cori.

After so many vague responses, Cori understood it was better not to ask questions. She didn't want to spend her limited time arguing with J. Only, in the last month their limited face time has dwindled. Fizzed out to nothing.

A few texts here. A few long spread out phone calls there.

It was after one of those texts that their last reunion had taken place.

J might have been slightly drunk -- sober enough to drive, and park his truck a block from Cori's parent’s house. He had climbed through her bedroom window. The act itself was not graceful. His tumble through the window at three am woke her dad. Her dad came in to find Cori “still sleeping,” the toppled over AP Calculus and Physics books on the floor enough incentive for him to return to bed.

Once the coast was clear, J managed to strip before climbing into bed alongside her. All she received was a quick kiss before his arm was around her. He was out before his head hit the pillow. He left Cori with no time to inquire about his reasoning behind showing up drunk. Or about the black eye and busted lip. He had to sneak out in the morning before her parents got up.

Rumor has it J’s been showing up to school, even if Cori's rarely seen him there. He shows up for three days, almost like clockwork. Technically, it is enough to stop the school from legally reporting him for truancy. Until the counselor concluded it was time J stopped playing that game--which brings us to J's current situation.

He's standing in the parking lot, keys in hand, staring at his girlfriend -- at least he thinks she's still his girlfriend. Is it weird if he leads with that question?

As he stands before her, the only thought in his mind is how much he's missed her smile.

Jingling the keys in his hand, J regards the innocent smile on Cori's lips before shaking his head.

“You got a tracker on me, I don’t know about, Edwards?”

“Nope. It’s just a Cody sighting is kind of a big deal in these halls,” Cori sighs lightly as her eyes pass over the crowded parking lot. “Word gets around pretty fast when you actually show up.”

Cori’s words don't receive a verbal response. Her eyes are covered, but J knows what look lies inside them. The look causes his eyes to avoid hers. His hand rubs against the back of his neck, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

"Haven’t seen you around lately, Josh." She continues, the warmth of her fingers against his chin lifting J's gaze. Cori raises her sunglasses, her eyes passing over his face. "Nice to know your black eyes is gone."

"Yeah--sorry about that night." The smile on his lips is sheepish as he watches her study his face. He mentally kicks himself for the following line--he knows it's getting old. He says it anyway. "I had some family stuff-"

"That left you drunk with a black eye and busted lip?"

J takes in her raised brow, his shoulders sink.

What can he say?

I got my ass kicked after I was caught in the act of stealing some guy's car. Granted, my uncle saved my ass, but not before I got a black eye and busted lip?

No. He can't say that.

If he does, then he would have to explain why he was stealing a car in the first place. And that is a rabbit hole J isn't willing to jump down--not with her.

The passing of her fingers through his hair causes J to speak up.

"Sorry. I know you're tired of bullshit excuses." He shakes his head.

"I'm used to it," Cori sighs, her hands falling to her lap.

Before he can stop himself, J's hands are on her thighs pulling her closer. His lips are on hers.

"I'm sorry. You look nice," he smiles as his lips press a second kiss against hers.

"Hmm?"

"I’m serious," he chuckles as his hand finds her waist.

"Trust me, I know it’s true," she laughs. "I’m just trying to figure out why it’s taken you so long to say it."

"I’ve been busy," he begins. "With-"

"Family stuff," Cori nods, her hand waving to dismiss the subject. "I know, but that's not what I tracked you down for. I have so graciously blessed you with my presence because you owe me two things."

"What are they?" J's brow arches, a soft smile on his lips.

Cori drops her hand for his cheek. J's eyes remain on her as she leans back, weight resting against her palms.

"I need a ride home," she lightly pats the hood of the car. "And I need a study buddy."

J lets off a light scoff at the latter.

If there is one undisputed fact, it is Cori's academic ranking. She is top of their class. Between the two, J needs a study buddy to catch up to her perfect GPA.

"Okay. When?"

"Tonight, genius," her eyes roll as she pushes against his shoulder. "Josh, please don’t tell me you forgot we have midterms Monday."

J's eyes briefly drift shut.

"Shit--I have a family thing tonight."

"When?” Cori smiles as his eyes pass over the parking lot. The corners of J's lips turn up into a smile before his gaze returns to hers. “I’m just saying...it’s technically not nighttime yet…and being as you haven't seen me in ten thousand years...the least you can do is study with me...”

"What’s it gonna take for me to get out of this?"

Cori pauses to think.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Shaking her head, Cori smiles as her hands find his shoulders. "There is absolutely nothing that you can give me for me to drop this."

"Damn."

"Unless,” Cori bites back her smile as her playful eyes meet his. “You want to tell me how much you missed me.”

“If that’s it,” J sighs, his lips stopping short of hers, “You might want to go ahead and find another ride home--”

“Shut up,” she giggles as his hands find her waist.

Helping her down, J steals a kiss before following Cori to the passenger side of his truck.

"I'm just giving you a ride home."

"Uh-huh." Turning to face him, she smiles as his lips press against hers.

She allows him a second kiss as J's arm wraps around her waist.

“To sweeten the deal,” she beams. “I’ll even let you take me out.”

"What is it?"

Cori's eyes remain on the surfers visible from the parking lot. She watches the girl who manages to ride the swell longer than the rest of the group. When she glances across the truck, she discovers J watching her. 

"What do you mean?" 

A low chuckle escapes J as he watches Cori busy herself with the task of finishing her milkshake. 

"What's on your mind?"

Despite her asking him to stop and grab something to eat, Cori hasn't said much to J. Even if she had, he knew her well enough to grasp Cori was waiting to ask him something. Her brown eyes raise to meet his gaze before she lets out a breath. 

"It's kinda stupid."

"Coming from you?" His brow arches as his fingers interlace with hers. "I doubt it."

Cori's gaze remains on their interlaced fingers as she speaks.

"It's just, the winter formal is coming up. I figured we could go together."

She glimpses up once her suggestion is met with silence. J's brow is a furrowed, a hesitant smile on his lips. 

His thoughts are racing--he's praying this is the initial time she's breached the subject. That he hadn't missed any hints in his haze the past weeks.

"Seriously? You never want to go to those things."

Cori's eyes roll. J's right. In the last two years, neither of them have attended the school’s dances. 

She bites her lip before opting to take another sip of her strawberry shake. 

"You really wanna go?" A light shrug is what J gets in response. "If you want to go, I'll go."

"It's just--we're going to be done with school soon. We have to go to at least one--"

"And prom?"

"That's not up for debate. Your ass is taking me to prom, Joshua Cody." Cori laughs as J's lips press against her fingers. 

J's smile fades as a ringtone interrupts the conversation. He releases Cori's hand before retrieving his cellphone from the truck's console. 

She silently observes as he reads the name on the screen. 

Baz. 

She remembers the name--he is one of J's uncles--but that's where her knowledge ends. The furrow of J's brow sets in as he declines the call.

“So...this family thing," she notes, as his eyes meet hers. Before she can get the rest of her thought out, a text comes through recapturing J's attention. "It must be pretty important.”  

J's shrug seems outlandish when held alongside the urgency of his uncle. In the time it took to eat, J's phone has got several notifications. Each time, he pauses long enough to silence the call and proceeds as if it never came. 

“It’s just a thing with my uncles.” His mood is light as he sets the phone back down. His easiness returns as he meets her eyes. "Smurf's pretty serious about everyone being home for it." 

He can notice the slight hesitance in her eyes before she offers him a smile in return.

Leaning across the car, J presses a kiss against her cheek. His lips drift to her neck. 

"I'll get the tickets Monday," he mumbles as his lips retrace their steps. "Promise."

J's truck is parked engine idling. His left-hand rests against the steering wheel, his eyes on her.

Cori has removed her seatbelt. Her body is turned in the seat so that she faces J. She toys with the hem of her dress instead of moving to get out.

"It was good to see you, J."

"Yeah," J agrees. Her eyes lift to meet his, the soft smile on his lips stretching into a grin. "You too."

J opens his mouth to continue the thought, but Cori has already turned away from him. He watches as she retrieves her backpack from the back seat.  

"Cori," J clears his throat. The action hinders Cori's opening of the door. Her hand hovers over the handle. "Maybe we can hang-"

"Nope.”

J blinks. His brow furrows as a silence falls over the car.

"If you want to see me again," Cori teases, her hand falling from the handle. "It will be in school."

"Why do I have a feeling you're not gonna let this go?" J's eyes roll softly as Cori leans across the car. "You’re serious?" 

"Because I'm not letting this go," she smiles sweetly, ignoring the chuckle the action pulls from J. "And, I'm 'lock my window' serious, Josh. Show up if you want, and I’ll leave you outside."

The smile on Cori's lips grows as J's gaze falls from hers. His tongue passes over his lips as she leans closer.

His eyes drift shut as her giggle fills the car before Cori presses a kiss against his cheek. She leaves a second kiss before moving away. Hopping out of the truck, Cori slips her backpack onto her shoulders.

"Think about what’s important to you, Cody," she beams before shutting the door.

J picks up his phone. The screen lights up as a new text message appears.

6 missed calls. Baz

7 missed texts. Baz

1 missed text. Craig

He opens the most recent notification from Craig.

Dude. Call Baz back so he'll stop losin his shit. You know we got that thing tonight

Cori is in the process of unlocking the door when she hears the sound of his car door slamming. Looking over her shoulder, she smiles as J crosses the driveway backpack over his shoulder.

"Two hours,” he concedes. J is powerless to the tug of her hand as Cori pulls him inside. “Then I have to go. Baz is blowing up my phone.”

"Then we better get started."

J's fingers comb through his hair, the brown eyes trained on him forcing him back to reality.

Judging by the look on Cori's face, this is not the first time she has spoken. Heat rushes to his face as J's gaze reverts to the stack of notecards in his hands.

"Uh--yeah," he clears his throat as he shifts in the computer chair. "That's right."

He steals a second glance at her, the smile on Cori's lips not helping with his current situation.

"Of course it is," she winks. Her gaze returns to the review sheet. She stops to make a note alongside the term The Baroque.

The two are currently in the midst of an AP European History review.

J isn't much help, but Cori doesn't need it. Each of her responses is correct. That's good for J. He's spent the last thirty minutes distracted.

It's a good thing Cori claimed the bed, laying on her stomach as she pulled out her notebook. J took the computer chair opposite of her. If Cori had let him join her on the bed, no studying would have taken place.

It doesn't matter that a month has passed. J hasn't been able to keep his eyes off Cori Edwards since her arrival freshman year.

A smile creeps across his face as J's eyes meet Cori's for a second time.

"You need a break, Cody?" The grin on her lips widens as Cori rests her chin in her hand. "You seem distracted."

"Just thinking about how you don't need these." J lifts the cards in his hands before discarding them on the nearby desk. "You never have."

"Hmm..." Cori's eyes return to the review sheet. She pauses to add more to the notes written neatly in the margins. "True, but you do."

Pushing herself up, she passes over the review sheet. Written neatly in the top right-hand corner is J's name.

"I made this for you Tuesday night."

J studies the sheet for a moment, his fingers massaging his temple as he takes in Cori's study guide.

Shit--she's right. He does need it. He missed the review session on Tuesday. The thing about AP Euro is that it's not as straight forward as Trig. J can ace his Trig midterm in his sleep. AP Euro is a whole separate story.

"Thanks, Cori," he sighs. The grateful look in his eyes as he watches her cross the room earns him a warm smile. "You didn't have to-"

"Oh, trust me, I know." Taking his hand in her, Cori lowers herself down onto his lap. "But, I know you have a lot going on. Besides, making the sheet helped me review for the test."

"I love you. You know that?"

"As you should." Taking his face in her hands, Cori smiles as J meets her gaze. She closes the remaining distance between their lips. "I love you too."

As her lips drift to his neck, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt, J pushes her dress up her thighs.

"I thought we were studying," he chuckles, his lips returning to hers.

"We're taking a break," she giggles. "You’re useless when you’re distracted."

When he wakes, J knows he’s overstayed. He was meant to leave by four. It’s four thirty. 

The cellphone, humming on the surface of Cori’s desk, sounds through the bedroom. J doesn’t lift his head from the pillow. Instead, he watches her face scrunch in irritation as the sound gradually pulls Cori out of her sleep.

“You gotta go?” She breathes, her eyes remaining shut as she tries to fall back to sleep.

“I should,” he chuckles. His finger traces the curve of Cori's shoulder. “Your parents will probably be home soon.”

“You’re right.” A soft giggle follows as J's arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body across the bed. “You should probably go.”

Despite his words, J makes no move to leave the bed. He sinks his face into her neck. His weight presses her into the mattress as her arms wind around his neck. He stays there for almost ten minutes. His eyes closed, listening to the delicate pattern of her pulse. Neither says a word. Cori knows the time has come to let him go when J presses a soft kiss against her skin before forcing himself up.

“I have some family shit I gotta handle,” J huffs as his palms rub against his eyes. “So, um, I probably won’t be on my phone for most of the weekend.”

“Okay.”

J proceeds to redress, his body in no rush to leave, as his phone starts again.

He needs to go. Now.

J has prolonged his return to reality, and the Cody House, long enough. If he doesn’t call back shortly, Smurf might have a heart attack.

J tugs his t-shirt over his head. His eyes focus on the bedroom window. He’s shocked Smurf's car is not parked out front. It wouldn’t be the first time his grandmother has tracked him.

“I just meant--I might not be able to pick up if you call,” he crosses the room to meet Cori. The faint smile on his lips brings one to her. “You can text me.”

“Maybe,” Cori sighs as J's lips caress her cheek. “If I have time. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

She catches sight of his sparkling eyes before J’s lips are on hers. The kiss itself is soft, another step in his lingering goodbye. His lips linger against hers before pressing against hers a final time.

“Hey,” J pulls back, his fingers interlacing with hers. He gently squeezes her hand as she meets his gaze. “Thanks for today. I missed you.”

“You too.”

“I’ll text you later,” J smiles before retrieving his phone and backpack.

Main Tags: @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @mariaxliliana @gemini0410​ @binooo98​ @the-jer-bear​ @abbiesthings​ @trhett21​ @trulysuccubus​ @leahnicole1219​ @keithseabrook27​ @starrynite7114​ @awkwardtayler​ @toni9​ @vannabanana1995​ @queenbeered​ @kaystacks17​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @star017​ @richonne4life​ @cocotheclown​ @oscars-wifeyyy​ @rosieposie0624​ @jennisdirtyimagines​ @ughdontbeboring​ @partypoison00​ @myakai13​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @demonquartz​ @ourlittlesecretsoveragain​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @linziland13​ @mrsmarvelous1995​ @sadeyesgf​

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

[blackwoolncrown]

Hi! So I read your post about learning from BIPOC that we need more spirituality in our movements and that really resonated with me; it’s what has transformed the way I view things over the last few years, just listening to indigenous and black voices and beginning to understand there is this entire dimension to the world that I don’t understand.

So I read the post to my partner, who got stressed, and averse. It seems they have an idea of spirituality that is very... western secular. Spirituality as believing in magic/supernatural, something completely separate from the material world. Which requires a completely anti spiritual view of the world I guess.

I really struggled to put words to what it means - what the call to action of needing more spirituality means.

Do you have any wisdoms? Any blogs or texts I should turn to to try to get some words on this? It turned out to be ridiculously difficult to define, especially to me who is only learning about any of it as an adult.

This is a very abstract and difficult to put into words subject so I understand if you don’t want to get into it! If not then thank you so much for your insight, I’ll keep learning!! I appreciate your time!!

Hmm, no I do feel like i get the gist of what you're saying; it's a pretty common issue.

First off one of the problems in addressing this is that there is no hard division between 'valid spirituality' and 'stupid magic'. The very idea that there is is a colonial notion derived from hundreds of years of oppression, belittling people's belief systems, western arrogance and cultural genocide.

So it's hard for me to address it from the standpoint of 'how can you convince someone that you're talking about valid spirituality?' when the greater issue is why does this person think so confidently that spirituality is inherently a bunch of silly magic. Inasmuch as love, wisdom and the sounds of drums carry spiritual power, this is also magic. And I don’t agree with having to pretend we believe otherwise in order to cater to someone with narrow vision.

I mean I can understand, as someone who came from a really I-love-science background, but at the same time I've always been aware that uhhhh Some Stuff Is Real You Just Can't See It. So it's still a hard bridge to connect. Also like....people only learn what they're willing to learn, they hear what they want to hear, and unless they WANT their mind changed- i.e. are open minded at the very least, with flexible worldviews- they'll shut down any new information.

Not sure what to say to this bc generally the complications of this mindset are....why it's such a problem.

If anything, perhaps for hi m to understand that spirituality AND magic (one and the same but also two different things lol) just mean ‘when immaterial stuff affects things’. It’s not that recherche. Magic is incredibly mundane, actually.

You can also slowly walk him back through his aversion. Why does it bother hiim so much? What does he believe about spirituality that makes him feel that way (and they are feelings)? Where did he learn that? Pinning him with some subjectivity might gradually enlighten him to the fact that his position is not neutral nor inherently correct.

Moreover though, I'd like to focus on you, here. It's really valuable and important that you've done the growth and unlearning that you have. Generally the most change comes from other people passively being affected by someone else who is living their truth out loud. Stick to your path, your growing. Expose him to things from time to time, but if he disagrees, so what? One thing I have learned is that people generally come around when you're right.

The annoying thing is how long it takes them. They coulda just listened the first time lol.