#I am just glad that I wrote something no matter the quality

[watcher-ofthe-sky]

a boy whose heart only knows hunger 

a steinbell fic || AO3

A/N: Hi for the love of god hello. Cannot believe I finally got out of my slump and wrote something. *sobs* To be honest, I don't know if this makes much sense, if at all, but I am glad that I finally got the chance to write steinbell! Spoilers for around 173/174. Very slight canon divergence at the end.

⁂

There is a boy whose heart only knows hunger. He expands and grows and makes space for something, anything, and everything in his heart. The gravity of his core calls and consumes whatever can get in his orbit. 

You feel yourself falling and falling and falling.

⁂

Words always die in Weisz's throat before he can make a shape out of them. They slip out of his grip before he can take hold. Mom always used to say that they should be used carefully, gently. They can hurt and bruise in the most brutal ways. But tender things do not do well in his grasp, so he keeps them hidden away from the world and him. They are safe there. 

⁂

You don’t know if gods exist. It’s hard to keep a belief burning and alive when the only thing you can remember from that burn is the smell of the incense sticks in front of your mother’s name that is engraved on the stone. You remember grey shadows overcasting the blue of the sky. Everything else is vague except; except the white-hot rage that simmered in your bones. Your body was too small to make room for so much grief. There was a hand on your shoulder—you don’t remember whose, it was small and wrinkled. Probably the old lady who lived next door and used to cook and give your mother your favourite stew sealed in a chipped yellow plastic container—trying to calm you down as you angrily shouted at the grave, asking why she left you alone. What were you supposed to do with all this loneliness? Where were you supposed to put it down? The world was suddenly too big and wide. All the fragile things in you shattered that day to encase this boiling anger so that you can hold on to it. That kept you going year after year. 

You were just a boy without faith. You forged your life thereon with calloused hands and used those brittle pieces of your souls and loaded them into the chambers. Things only break in your hands, so you learned how to recreate them. The ether in your veins buzzing to combine and remake broken things. You made a living among the rusted dark streets where your guns glinted in the moonlight. You were just a boy without faith and then you grew into a man without faith. 

You don’t know if gods exist. 

But there must be something, someone, beyond the cosmos, by whose divine intervention even time and space bent down to lead your way to him. 

“Hey! You’re younger than I thought you’d be!”

⁂

Everything is in shambles after Drakken. Weisz wants to break and crush the world down to its sediments. He is back to being eight and sobbing by his mother’s bed, begging and pleading with her not to leave him alone. He can hear the beeping of the machines nearby and the smell of anaesthesia in the air. He feels so small. He takes the anger that had mellowed down over the years and lets it consume him. Firing bullets after bullets, he rages. That’s the only way he knows how to give shape to his sadness; to make it something concrete and real. His entire body aches and burns, but it isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

“You’re the one who is gonna have a taste of scary I can be,” Drakken sadistically grins while catching Weisz’s fist head-on and breaking his momentum. 

The ether lines on his body glow in contrast to the dark skin. His grin turns sharper and there is a maniac look in his eyes.

Somewhere, Shiki cries, “Weisz!!! Take your suit off!!!”

 It’s too late. There is an explosion. A blinding light followed by a pointed ringing in his ears. Arsenal crumbles down to dust around Weisz. There is blood in his mouth. Drakken is saying something about his arm. From the corner of his eye, he sees a blade coming. Everything is blurry. 

So this is how he is going to die. Did he live the life right? Will his mother be happy if she sees him like this? 

“You were never good at making friends, so... I am a little worried…”

He really was bad at making friends, huh? He remembers snarling at Sibir when the bastard stole his pendant.

“I thought we were friends,” Sibir had said quietly in his thick, gravel voice. 

Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe there is another universe where he finds a happiness that he is forever chasing after. Gods, he feels so fragile. The memories of his mother turn foggy. They leave him too. He searches for his anger but he is too tired to feel it. He feels so alone. There is a sharp pain in his body. He tries to move but it is so fucking hard. 

He shuts his eyes. There is a movement nearby. Suddenly, it feels like his body is floating. Drakken’s blade swipes through the empty air and meets the hard concrete of the floor, breaking it to pieces. There is a hand tightening around his wrist. 

“Shiki…” Weisz whispers. The world around him revolves as his eyes fixate on Shiki’s. 

They land on the ground with a thud. “You gotta cool your head.” Shiki doesn’t let go of his hand. “You won’t beat him charging in like that.”

He blinks once and then twice, trying to comprehend what is happening. Shiki’s fingers are wrapped around his wrist in a loose grip now. They are gentle, but they still burn. 

Shiki is here.

The whole crew is in a fight with Drakken and his people. 

There are people around Weisz. He is not dying. Not yet. There is a fight that he needs to win first. What does Shiki know about people like Drakken? He won’t understand the visceral misery that makes Weisz’s blood boil. It is his battle alone.

He turns away. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

He never knows how to anyway. He doesn’t know if he is allowed to accept it. Kindness like Shiki’s will weigh him down. It will make his chest constrict because people like him should not waste their time on people like Weisz. 

The words sting his own heart as soon as they are said out loud. 

 “But a friend gives it anyway.” 

Weisz’s eyes widen and he looks up to see Shiki smiling at him. It is so sure, so steady, that it almost brings him to his knees. What did Weisz do to deserve this unwavering trust?

Friend. 

That’s right. 

Friend.

Because Weisz is no longer alone. He has people who look out for him and have his back. There are people with whom he laughs and jokes around. There are people who he is slowly learning to call his own. There is a place that he is slowly learning to call home.

I am no longer alone, mom. I have friends now.

Weisz tries to reply, but his voice breaks along with his heart. He only nods and then smiles slowly at Shiki in return.

“Let’s do this, Weisz!!” Shiki calls out.

Together. 

Weisz finds his footing again and turns to face Drakken again. Ether buzzes on his fingertips. 

“Yeah,” he replies. 

  Together.

⁂

When you met him, you knew he was a bit naïve. He looked at the world with so much awe, with so much desire to know and explore. Because he is a boy whose heart only knows hunger. But not everything you crave is good for you. He will come to know that in time; there are limits to your desire. That’s what you’ve learned the hard way. You have built up walls to cease and contain your longings. You have made yourself believe that it’s the safe way. It’s better than putting your heart on display only to see it getting trampled on every time. 

This boy didn’t know that yet. He expanded. He opened up and showed how much capacity he has for kindness. Something in you resonated along the way, as if he was making you believe that you are capable of doing the same. He keeps on taking chances even after he falls. 

Something in your chest takes root. Something tender that wants to grow and bloom. 

⁂

It’s the end of the day after their training with Xenolith. Shiki's laughter reverberates in his ears. Weisz stares at his back as his shoulders rise and fall as he animatedly moves his hands while talking to Rebecca and Kleene.

Shiki does not worry about how his words tumble out of him. He welcomes them as they come. Gives them out freely, laced with affection and care, like he is not worried that they would ever run out. Weisz pushes back down a quiet knock that wants to be heard. 

He looks down at the wrench in his hand and continues to work on his armour. His fingertips trace the crack in the metal. 

Shiki is electric and alive, a wire that finally completed the circuit and lit Weisz's life. The light from his presence is flooding and he has spent so long in this greying darkness that he does not know how to take all of it. So, he always looks away.

He holds up his helmet, a beam of light falling on his lap through the fractures. When Weisz puts it down and looks up again, his gaze meets Shiki's and the latter breaks into a smile. Weisz’s heart falters.

Everything is golden. Sunlight falls from the windows as the ship jitters and moves around a star. It gets pulled, pulled, and pulled into its gravity before finding its balance. 

“Sorry about the turbulence,” Witch’s voice comes through the system. “The force was harder than we had anticipated.”

Shiki is back to talking to the girls again. Weisz swallows. He feels dizzy for the rest of the day.

⁂

You have lost too many people already. Grief is something that hurts like a fresh wound every time. It is never a thing that can describe properly. Some days, it sticks to you like thick tar, other days, it comes to you in the form of a distinct smell that you thought you have long forgotten. It is hollow but so heavy. The void that carries so much weight. 

Shiki hasn’t come out of his room for two days. Hermit looks lost while Ivry has busied herself in her work, but in the late hours you have heard her cries echoing through the halls. The whole crew is quiet and mourning Witch’s death. 

“I’ll go talk to him,” Rebecca says at last and walks away to Shiki’s room.

You give a slight nod. You never know what words need to be said anyway. You don’t know how you can console him, and this crumples your heart all the more because no one deserves it more than he does. This boy who has always got your back. Who readily pours and gives so much of himself.

A few hours later, he comes out with Rebecca from his room with tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eye. Even though his skin is pale and he is still sniffling once in a while, clutching Rebecca’s hand like an anchor, there is still a slight ease in his steps that wasn’t there before.

At night, under the lanterns-filled sky of Sandra, you see him. There are soft shadows on his face from the glow of the flying lights, a reverence and sadness in his eyes as he holds the lantern close to his heart before letting go. 

You wish then to know how to cry. You wish you knew how to set this grief in motion; how to not let it choke you in his stagnancy, maybe then you would understand and help people around you better. You want to cry so badly. 

People disperse after a while, everyone returning to their temporary bases that they have set up post-war. You make your way to the ship too when you see the blur of the dark hair sitting among the dunes.

You don’t say anything and simply stand beside him, tilting your head up to see the stretch of the starry sea. Your shoulder brushes against his in the silence. The air is warm here. 

He rests his head on your shoulder. You lift your hand, clench and unclench your fist a couple of times, before finally giving in and resting your palm lightly around his shoulder. He breaks into sobs. Your throat feels dry. He turns around and presses his face in your chest. You wrap your arms around him and told him tighter. He cries. You don’t know how to. He cries. You don’t know how to console him. He cries. You take his face in your trembling hands. He cries. You say his name, quietly, like a whisper. That’s the only word you know at the moment. Your thumb caresses the bandage on his eye with all the gentleness you can muster. 

“I don’t want to lose anyone else,” his voice is shaky and it breaks your heart. 

“You won’t,” you reply and wipe the tear rolling down his face.

The world hushes around you. The soles of your shoes dig into the sand. There is a hand on your chest. The air hums. His lips collide against yours. It’s unsure and clumsy. You are aware of all your senses, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. Before he pulls back, you lean in.

You kiss the boy whose heart only knows hunger, and it is at that moment you realise that it’s you who is the boy with a hungry heart. You take and take and take whatever he can give and give and give. It’s always been you. 

 You want. 

You want so much. 

You don’t know why there are tears stinging your eyes. 

  ⁂

 They don’t talk about the kiss. 

Weisz does not know how much of it is intentional. After they had pulled apart, they returned to the ship together. It was late in the night and they quietly said their goodbyes before returning to their respective rooms. Weisz didn’t sleep that night.

The next couple of days pass by in spending time with Rebecca who was still in recovery. They behaved like they did every day. Whenever their eyes met, Shiki smiled at him like he usually does. That evening, Ivry calls Shiki to try on the new mechanical eye she has made for him, while Weisz surprisingly ends up having a heart-to-heart with Laguna. 

Although Weisz had kept the appearance of annoyance that he usually does around Laguna, his words had hit too close to home.

There was so much of himself in there. He didn’t know how to tell him that he understands the part of playing an unemotional man all too well. 

He wants to get better. He is trying to get better. 

Shiki’s voice cuts through the pa system. Firm and determined. 

“So we are going to get stronger. To make sure no one else gets hurt.”

Something shifts and Weisz can feel the incoming of a new beginning. This is no longer the same Shiki. He hopes he can stand beside him in this advent.

A week passes, then months. 

They don’t talk about the kiss and it becomes a memory. A dream that Weisz plays like a broken record on days he can’t sleep. 

Things between them are still the same. 

⁂

You watch the boy grow up slowly in a different mould than before. He waits and thinks before honing himself. There are rougher edges to him now. Maybe a selfish part of you misses what was before. But this is for the better and you will support him regardless, with everything you have. In the heart, he is still the same. He is still the boy with the sun in his hands that lights up everything around him. You are still learning how to take it but now you are learning to bask in its warmth.

He grows and you find yourself staring at the freckles on his nose and the now more defined and leaner jaw. He frowns more now, but his smile is the same nonetheless. You find yourself hungrier for it, because you are the boy whose heart only knows that. It’s harder these days to subdue that desire. 

When your eyes meet, you look away. It’s hard to look at him in the eyes these days.

You still sit together to have dinner, and you still spar and train in the gym together. Things between you are still the same. But it doesn’t feel like that.

 You are hungry. 

Always.

Hungry.

 ⁂

Weisz slumps down the wall in the kitchen. There is amber light overhead with a moth. He doesn’t know how or when it got into the ship. He hopes it will make it out alive. He draws his knees together and buries his face in his hands. 

“Any moment now,” Laguna says before taking a sip of iced tea. 

Weisz lifts his head and throws him a glare. “No one told you to sit here.”

“I feel like I will be missing out on some drama if I don’t see this through,” he replies monotonously and opens up his bag of chips. 

Weisz knows he is being dramatic. His head hurts. His ether gear has been acting weird because he is not concentrating properly. He short-circuited a weapon that he was remodelling for weeks. He feels angry and irritated and decided to skip the late evening training sessions, deciding to spend the time sulking in his room instead. 

At last, when everyone was done with their supper, he decided to find something to eat and bumped into Shiki on the way. He had asked him with concern in his voice if he was okay. Weisz had only grunted a half-heartedly reply that he doesn’t even remember now. 

He was groaning in his hands when Laguna showed up. 

He pulls on the string of his hoodie and hears Laguna quietly eating. 

“I am pathetic,” Weisz says at last. 

“That’s nothing new.”

Weisz stares at him and Laguna stares back. He does not know why he is having this conversation with him, of all people. Sure, the things between them have lightened up now but they still aren’t... that kind of friends, maybe. But talking about this with Rebecca or Homura will make this more real when he himself doesn’t know what is there to even talk about. 

Laguna finishes his drink. He takes out a chip and bites. 

“I kissed Shiki on Sandra.”

Another chip.

“I like him.”

Another chip. 

“Really like him,” Weisz breathes..

There is a stronger word on his tip that melts like molasses but tastes bitter. He does not know how to form it yet. 

Laguna hums. “Looks like I wouldn’t have missed on any drama, after all.”

“Hey!” Weisz cries indignantly.

“Don’t overthink it. Your pathetically small brain won’t be able to handle it all anyway. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

“Can you just s—” 

Laguna cuts him off by reaching out his hand, holding the now almost empty packet, “Chip?”

Weisz grunts and takes one.

⁂

Some days, it feels like he is moving too fast and you cannot keep up. He is growing so fast, continuously shaping himself into someone stronger. The constant urge to protect and fight drove him past his limit. 

You want to hold him down. You want to tell him that he can take it slow; that he has people who want to look out for him too. So you stay by his side as long as he lets you. You take whatever he can give and don’t want more from him. Your own hunger has stormed your heart because he is a boy who can ablaze blackholes on his fingertips. How can someone like you ever have the chance to do anything but fall? 

You just want to be there with him. At the end of the day, when sometimes he is too tired and rests his forehead on your shoulder saying, “Just for a moment, please,” you don’t wrap your arms around him, but you stand like a pillar. 

Sometimes, you go to his room and he entangles his fingers with yours because the nightmares don’t let him sleep. When you wake, he is already out of the bed, but the blanket around you is carefully tucked up. 

This is okay. You’ll be okay.

⁂

Three years pass by just like that in liberating all the planets under Ziggy’s rule. It feels like chasing a shadow. At least the latest lead they have from Connor will get them somewhere. After dropping him at Shooting Starlight Guild, they have decided to spend the night in the cosmos. 

Weisz walks through the hallways of the ships and opens up the glass door to feel the crisp, cool air of the late night. The sill beneath his fingertips is cold and the cool winds cut his skin. Weisz leans forward to look out into the stretch of stillness. He opens his palm flat and sakura leaves waltz in the wind before settling on it.

Spring in this cosmos feels eternal with the pink ever present in the air; like time loses its meaning when you're wandering in space every day. It's only when they step out of the ship onto planets, that Weisz realises worlds spin and time flows. Seasons cycle and years begin, not just in the glowing binaries of his calendar, but in the buds that bloom and the constellations that run through the map of the sky. 

He exhales. 

How much time has passed, he wonders, since his heart had decided to expand and make space for so many things? How different of a person he is now than he was the last time when he was here. He is still trying to learn and unlearn so many things. Someone forever in motion. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

Weisz looks over his shoulder to see Shiki coming and standing next to him. 

“Just taking a breather. You?”

“Something like that,” Shiki replies. 

The sakura leaves slowly fall down and collect around them. The ones floating in the cosmos usually don’t make their way down here through the atmosphere. Since it's spring, the cherry blossoms are blooming all around them. It is a beautiful sight. Weisz stares at Shiki’s profile. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks. 

“Ziggy.”

“We will fight against him together. We will win.”

Shiki nods but doesn’t say anything. Weisz turns to face him. 

“You know we are a team, right? You know that we have got your back? You know that—” Weisz swallows, I am there, “—that everyone is there. You are not alone.”

Shiki turns to face him too. He stares and Weisz can feel the erratic beating of his heart. Shiki smiles. It’s slow and genuine. Earnest.

He leans forward and brushes off the leaves off his head. “I know.” 

⁂

Your heart in the palms of this boy is safe. He makes you remember the love preserved in it. And it's then, you cry out rivers of it. Through grief and rage. Through tears and wails. You met this boy in the cosmos with its fluttering sakura leaves. You met this boy in the spring and bloom of this universe. But this boy carries the entire multitude in his existence. 

Shiki.

When you say his name, your bones thaw in the summer of its sound. When you hold his hand, the fire in your heart keeps you going through the winters of it. He is the vibrating colours of the fall. He is the spring that makes way to new beginnings.

You take his hand and pull him closer. You kiss him. Because you are the boy whose heart has only known hunger till he came along. Now, you want to give. He has taught you the expanse of your own heart, the topography of your love. You want to long and want, but you also want to give everything you can. You want to let him know that you will keep his heart safe in your palms too. 

You pull back a little, a breath of distance between you two to see the dark of his eyes. You open your mouth, giving shape to those words that have never listened to you before. Some things are needed to be said out loud. Sometimes words are the only way to convey the enormity of it all. “I—” You want to be brave. You try again. 

“I love you.”

He kisses you back because he too is a boy whose heart knows hunger because he always had the courage to want but is not sure enough how much to take. He pours out the love and craves for it. Just like you. 

The sakura leaves fall over you. 

You met this boy in the spring and bloom of this universe.

You loved him right there too. 

 You both are just two boys whose hearts know hunger. 

⁂

A/N: Thank you for reading! Any feedback is appreciated. <3

[f-t-e]

I started watching SUPERNATURAL in November 2020. I know, I know. My partner and I had been isolating alone since March. The timing felt right. I went though a wild amount of upheaval and trauma over the next year and SPN was there for me through it all. It was THE show at THE time and it kept me afloat when I needed it the most. Since November 2021 I've written just about 110,000 words of SPN fanfic, a number that seems unbelievable to me, and that too has been a real blessing to my creative life, no matter what haters say. (why didn't I write my own novels in that time? Because I have a hobby, Karen, and I love it.) And I've read about 500000x that much fanfic, which has been the biggest blessing of all. (ETA: oh right, if you want to read my fic, you can find my stuff here, I wrote a fic where Dean reads books. Lots of books.)

I know I'm a nobody in this fandom but I thought on this, our #DestielDay, I would submit my own humble rec list. I've curated this very deliberately: every fic here has just about 4000 hits or less (most under 3000) and all were published in 2020 or after. So, sort of a rec list for some lesser known and newer fics, something you maybe haven't stumbled on yet. Especially thank you to @jewishcharliebradbury, her rec lists gave me a place to start back in the day and I have tried to model the depth and quality they brought to their lists. I tried to link to everyone's tumblr, but if I missed one, let me know.

Most of all, thank you to everyone who has EVER created something for this fandom, from 2005 to 2023. I am so thankful and, honestly, honored to be among your number. You're not supposed to be cringe and say a show saved your life...but SUPERNATURAL saved me, it really did. See y'all when the movie/reboot drops, to quote Ryan Gosling in The Notebook: IT WASN'T OVER, IT STILL ISN'T OVER. And I'm glad.

-----

Finale Fix-It & S15 and Beyond

What The Moon Was Saying by Amiril (@runawaymarbles)

This is hands-down one of the coolest “Dean Rescues Cas from the Empty” fics I have ever read and the concept is brilliantly structured to mirror the literal and metaphorical things Dean needs to give up and let go to get free. Every scenario is very satisfying and they make sense, is there any better feeling? Dean is very open in this, but in a believable way that still has edges. And, oh, the reunion is so good. Plus all the family stuff. Just excellent, exactly what you want in a fic like this: lovely, well-written, smart, fulfilling, all the pieces clicking, the show but better.

Awake and Annoying by skycruise

I love the use and passage of time in this one, it has some real impact, and I love the way Dean gets into the Empty (so smart, fits just right) and what I REALLY love in this one is the way it lets Dean be really clear-eyed and honest about his relationship with Sam, both the strengths and the weaknesses. And the last line, very clever and moving inverse of one of fandom’s favorite things. 

Living the life you chose by allthismusic

THEEEEE post finale Sam Winchester-Outsider-POV this fandom needs. Sam is absolutely awesome in this, the most believable, loving, realistic mix of “I knew all along” and “I had no idea” versions of Sam, landing somewhere I think that’s really true and in character. It fills in and develops so many gaps and silences in what the show let Sam know in the absolute best way. Best Brother Sam is a weakness of mine and he really shines here, there for Dean in the best ways but also coming into his own, I love it so very much. (this author also has a very great 2022 Big Bang fic, hugely recommend that one too.)

your ear to the wound that whispers by EmandFandems (@lazarusemma)

Who doesn’t love a HANDPRINT FIC?!? And boy this is such a good one. It follows Dean and his thoughts on the handprint from the first touch all the way to fixing the finale and it simply buzzes with longing and desire, tenderness and rawness. It’s great insight in lot of ways into Dean’s journey. It’s short but fulfilling and oh that very perfect last line. (this author also has a lot of great Jupernatural content.)  

Somewhere Off in the Dark by magickastiel 

Another awesome fic that traces Dean’s shifting/growing feelings for Cas from when he shows up in his hotel rooms to a HEA fix it after canon. Dean, again, is handled so deftly in this one, his confusion and sorrow at all the times Cas is slipping away from him all the way through the things he won’t let himself know. He feels really true in this one, sharp and tender in the best Dean ways. Also it has an agonizingly romantic end, you love to end up there.

Pins and Feathers by theskywasblue (@buttherewasnogod)

This author has so many freaking good SPN fics, omg it was almost impossible to pick just one to include on this list. Go treat yourself with their entire list because there’s so much good stuff there! But this one, oh I am a sucker for a finale fix-it that lets Dean be this tender. While I LOVE fics where he just jumps right into Cas’s arms (and write them lol) I also feel like this is so true to Dean too: that “maybe I misunderstood, maybe I shouldn’t say anything, maybe he doesn’t still –” And on top of all that, it’s a “they go the beach” fic and it gets the details of it so right, sand in your toes and all. Tender, amazing slow-burn, real, hot, full of heart and longing and everything unspoken and just waiting. Very satisfying!

i loved you first by kalmialatifolia

A set of four short fics that create an entire world of feeling and emotion. These feel like little whispered stories told under the covers, very atmospheric. There’s one very sexy one, a haircutting one (so good) and they’re just intimate. All together a great set and did I mention they’re in the “Cas saves himself” genre which is mmmm an underrated treasure.

no other faith is light enough for this place by anonymous 

A fix-it fic that has a particularly unique and beautiful visual of both how and why Cas comes back. The mechanics behind it are fairly standard but the way this author creates the visual of it, the sheer emotion and force behind it and how it happens, it really stood out to me and stuck with me. It’s Dean being brave enough to really feel and the way that just blossoms – lovely, aching, full-tilt wonderful.

 no proof, one touch by TakeThisWaltz (@watchinghimrakeleaves)

One thing I absolutely cannot get enough of is fic where Cas is hiding out from Dean in heaven. It just hits. And the only thing better is Dean chasing him down and the WAY he does it in this fic, methodically and – well the method (sobs) it is so endearing and OBVIOUS and gives Dean a chance to shout in all the best ways. This one is just real sweet and kind of goofy and if they have to be in heaven, I want them to still be these same two dorks.

Stay by redbrickrose

This is a post S15x18 from Cas’s POV and I think it’s very true to where he would be in the moment of getting yanked out of the Empty: resigned, hesitant about what he has in front of him, still a little in shock. And then. And then. Sweet and simple and Dean gets a chance to say, say, say it. This author has a good post series AU and a lovely little spate of S15 codas, all good. And then wrote this in real-time in the week after 15x18 Despair and right before 15x19 Inherit the Earth aired (could you just sob over the possibilities?!) and then hasn’t wrote anything since and that’s a shame but, like, yeah I get it.

like a one-two punch by Muir_Wolf (@muirmarie)

Don’t you love a short fic that feels like it’s a whole novel? This goes AU after 14x20 Moriah but it is a truly delightful twist on how Chuck could’ve reacted there and it makes Dean sharp as a knife, which is one really resonant image woven through this fic. Great imagery here and so many clever solutions for the lazy plotting of S15, including simply one of my all-time favorites in any fic ever solutions to Cas’s deal (genius) and getting rid of Chuck. Brilliant like a puzzle box yet still full of so much fucking joy.

maybe i like pleasure pain by tothewillofthepeople (@kvothes)

The fact that this was written in October 2023 and is so agonizingly good fills my heart with joy and tells me Destiel will never die lol. Cas, in particular, is great in this – he’s having a hard time adjusting to being in a body and with all the fuzz of the world. I love fics where Cas struggles with coming back from the Empty and this uses a really unique approach to it: Cas facing sensory overload and not knowing how to feel but wanting it all. Lovely, hot, Dean is just right in this too.

Earlier Canon (pre S15)

Proverbs 13:12 by starlingcas (@angelcasendgame)

Many might say I am biased because Renu has beta’ed everything I have written in the SPN fandom and they can read my brain and make everything I write better. But it’s not just that. Renu has done something beautiful and delicate in this fic, which is about Dean and Cas getting trapped in a net together (forced proximity trope, yes please) and weaves a web of its own; pulling you in just as they are pulled together. This is set mostly in early S14 (before fixing the finale in the most heart-healing way) and captures that feeling so well. There’s so much that’s unsaid between them yet still conveyed and Renu absolutely nails that, along with the tender longing that was always there. This is a fic to relish.

you may tire of me (as our december sun is setting) by deludedfantasy

You know how the show just sometimes is like “uh so anyway uh then Cas…uh…left.” and it just doesn’t make one lick of sense? FINALLY FINALLY a fic where Dean says “I’ll go with you,” and then goes because he actually would do that. This is a post Tombstone fic so it is exactly where/when he WOULD go and it is tender and hesitant and aching in just all the ways it would be between the two of them at this time. It’s about needing to keep someone in sight, it’s about having another chance to say something so important, it’s slow and soft and just right for the characters in this place. I could read this one about 100 times.

the anatomy of flightless birds by cowlovely (@dollhousemary)

This fic is basically the way you feel when you get all cozy and snug underneath your favorite blanket. This is a domestic-life-in-the Bunker S9 fic where everyone behaves like they are in character and not just like they have to get Cas off screen because the writers panicked. You’ll just want to curl up in this fic and savor it the way you wrap your fingers around a hot beverage on a very cold day, there’s no better way to describe it.

virtue by JenTheSweetie

I think I’ve read this about 100 times and it still gets me everytime? It’s a five things fic about Dean and Cas hooking up and it’s all you’ve ever wished for. This is set in an amorphous S8 and it is not just agonizingly hot but also romantic and very funny. It feels really in character! Sam is hilarious, Dean is clueless but bowled over and letting himself be swept up, Cas is delighting in every second and smarter than he lets on and it ALL feels fated and lovely and sexy and just splendid. (this author only has 3 SPN fics but they are all so good and if you try sometimes, well you just might find is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of Dean learning the differences between “needing” and “wanting.”)

Romance at the Motel 6 by shelia_amour 

This fic makes me feel like Stefon from SNL. This fic has everything: Cas and Sam pretending to be married, just the right amount of jealous Dean, Dean randomly pretending to be married to Cas, Dean realizing maybe this isn’t so fake after all, motel vibes, Cas in Dean’s clothes, Cas getting bee slippers. If you are not sold on this already, we are very different people. So good, aches just right. (set in a kind of “whenever” of canon, but I like to put it somewhere in S8.)

que sera sera by Purple_Starflower (@hauntedpearl)

The epitome of how fanfic unfolds for us all the things that COULD happen. You can’t PROVE to me Dean and Cas never snuck off to snuggle and feed Dean’s touch-starvation early in S13. I had to check when I finished because I just couldn’t believe this fic was under 4000 words because it feels so full of touch, longing, the things unspoken, and all the ways Dean was reaching, reaching, reaching. The best kind of ache, and everything by this author is lovely. 

the hard edge that you’re settling for by lesspopped (@trekkiedean)

This is some S10 Demon!Dean that made my stomach hurt and my heart ache and I absolutely loved it and I absolutely hated it and it all felt so REAL with who Demon!Dean was and could have been. There’s a TW for mildly dubious consent in this, but to me, Cas was so agonizingly true to who he was/where he was at this point in canon too. This fic is gloriously, claustrophobically intimate. I say unbearable because as a reader you know that this closeness, this intimacy, is what Dean wants/craves/deserves but can only give himself as a demon and the author does an exquisite job at getting all that across. Hurts so good! 

four of swords by sundryvillians (eurythmix) (@perenial)

Can the world ever have enough post 12x12 fic? The answer is, of course, no. Dean and Cas bake bread and in the soft space of creating something with their own hands, get so close to the words Cas said. It’s about healing and anger and making something just because you are so tired of everything breaking. If that alone isn’t enough to convince you, let me also throw in this is another one of those “possible off-screen moments in canon” that gives them something honest and tender and raw and it feels so very possible. 

Fifteen Prayers From the Faithless by koyas_cat

Short, achy, that sweet sting. A set of prayers for Cas from the beginning to the end, full of all the things Dean doesn’t let himself say outloud and just reflecting the changes in their connection over alllll the years. So good.

[drdemonprince]

I remember reading recently something you wrote about the vibes being the important part of small talk, so I started thinking about it. I consider myself totally incapable of small talk, I never know what to say and feel frustrated when someone tries to strike a conversation and maybe something comes up and it's clear that we have very different stances on general matters that I consider important, cause I don't think it's worth it to spend energies in discussing that kind of stuff with a stranger, but also I don't like to just let it go. Then I started noticing that especially in moments when I'm trying to get out from auDHD shutdowns, the really small, tiny talk that I can have with a neighbour or in a shop is very warming, I find in it a very good quality of almost pure human interaction, and makes me feel like I can someway navigate the world after all, and that there's probably people out there that need the same things I need, just a very simple, warm, connection. So I came to this conclusion: small talk can give me good vibes but for it to work needs to stay really, really small! don't go ruin it with politics or stuff like that lol! So thank you for making me think about this

Yo yes!! I am so glad you came to this revelation.

An important thing for many neurodivergent people to realize is that so-called "neurotypicals" that you encounter out in the world (and how would you even know they are NT anyway) are terrified and insecure around other people, too! Small talk serves the function of broadcasting to a person that you are friendly, that you see them, that you would like to engage, that you recognize their humanity, and that no matter how little you know about them at present, there are experiences and circumstances that bond you together.

Many ND people get way too into our heads trying to break down what the content of a small-talk conversation means, but it doesn't mean anything that can be conveyed in simple text. Just like a handshake doesn't mean "anything". Or bringing a friend a casserole when they're in mourning means "anything." The gesture is one of affiliation and warmth, and that's just about it. There is no deeper meaning to crack.

I find that when I chat up strangers or just make my own energy more "open" to them initiating with me, the world feels warmer and safer, people are less scary, I feel more confident and optimistic, and I recognize that I don't have anywhere near as much to fear in other people as I might think I do. Most people are so bored and uncomfortable all the time, and bringing up a bit of casual chit chat in the line for the bus or at the cash register can do a ton to help allieve the painful coldness we're walking around feeling all the time.

[meownotgood]

I know you said it's a sensation and your feelings are 100% valid, but I also wished to say that I truly think that your writing has something therapeutic because not going to lie, since April I have had a bit of anxiety-stricken situation with work and other stuff and going to your blog and reading your writing always calmed down, as it was a huge comfort to me. and I am not going to lie, I haven't noticed any changes in the quality.

like you are always serving us prime time aki content (like I am doubting starting to simp for gale, as an halsin simp, so I can enjoy more of your writing ugh).

it's totally alright to feel this way, but I just wished to share my silly thoughts.

I am off have a lovely day!

I appreciate you 🥹 I'm really glad that my writing could help you, I always feel such a sense of pride and joy to hear that someone enjoyed something I wrote... it's what makes me want to keep writing in the first place!!

thank you for your kind words 🤲💞 I promise not to give up on my writing no matter what

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Title: Mountain of Thieves

Author: Cormyris H. Heaney

Rating: 1/5 stars

Hm. Very strange. And kind of upsetting?

Let's start by saying that I don't tend to find "literary fiction" to be the most emotionally intense category of fiction. And in particular, "fiction by people who have never actually experienced any of the things being depicted" tends to bore me. (Not that people don't feel "real pain" while reading these works -- the question is whether their feeling "reality" is in any way a feeling of their own experience.)

But I had some high hopes for Cormyris Heaney. I like Heaney's nonfiction well enough -- especially his meditations on landscape and travel and "the sublime," which have a certain kind of transcendental power. I was especially fond of a short little piece he wrote on the "Heaven Lake" in the Himalayas, which is a natural phenomenon that people of all kinds of religious backgrounds find compelling. (That is, I like Heaney's writing a lot, but I don't think it was ever going to be for me "that literary stuff.")

At this point I realized that while I liked Heaney's nonfiction, I just didn't care about him as a writer, because his fiction was nothing like the kind of fiction I'm into. And I felt like, why even bother giving a second look?

But there's that second look you have to do, or else the whole thing is just the same feeling, over and over, forever and ever. It is, ultimately, the responsibility of the writer, to make you care. So, there you go! And that one thing done, then you have to try and do something else with the rest of your life.

Well, the more I read Mountain of Thieves, the more I realized how little of it there was. This novel was like a set of puzzles -- its "characters" were actually very inscrutable, and the story was all about how they met each other, and what a mystery it would have been to "follow their story back to its origins," etc. etc. If you could write something like that for any sort of other novel, no matter how low-budget, it would have been worth keeping around for comparison. But this was just not the sort of story that could have been written about any of the people mentioned.

There were a few passages that were so weird, so upsetting, I was sort of stunned into silence, not sure what to do with them. For instance:

At the end of the novel I was thinking "this has been a deeply unpleasant experience, and I'm glad it's over." It was like reading an alternate-reality version of The Last Interview.

When we look away from our real world, the things around us seem to have taken on some kind of illusory and unreal quality. Everything is distorted -- especially the people in the world around us. We see them as strange, as unfamiliar, even if their behavior and personalities are not. And we see their personalities as strange, as unfamiliar, even though they are very familiar to us -- as long as we are not, while reading, thinking about anything beyond the words we are reading.

In real life, our thoughts take many forms -- but at the same time, none of those forms are really "real." We only know what they are, when we let the words of others go beyond themselves, and we let ourselves feel what they feel -- and what they were for. When we do this, we realize the full power and meaning of their personality, just as we realize the full power and meaning of ours. And when we do that, we start to wonder: "is my personality any less strange to me?"

I do not know whether you are reading these words, but perhaps it is they that you ought to be reading. This is what I know. I can remember having read them. If you know me, it is impossible for me to be able to read anything else. (...) I know there is pain. I know there is evil. I am only writing what I know.

In the world you live in, this is not possible.

In the world you are living in, this is true.

If you find this troubling, it may be the time, in life, that you are living in. But perhaps it is only the time.

These are just a few examples. There are many others -- the novel is filled with these strange juxtapositions, in which a sort of alienness is implied, an unreal quality -- that we might call "the literary version of the Unreality Effect."

What is so disturbing to me is the way in which everything is like this. In real life, the world's events and people and everything are never "the same" twice. In real life, things change all the time, and you cannot predict them and cannot keep track of them. In real life, these are true in a very deep sense, as is the case in this book. But in real life, we are not the characters. We have the responsibility and the freedom to look back, to notice that what happened was "different" from what happened to "us," in some ways and not in other ways, even when our actions or our perceptions seemed "identical." And this is true whether we are actually living in a world, or just reading about it.

In the same way, what happens in Mountain of Thieves is a world that is different from, but just as real as, the one we live in. One is a world without an end, one is a world without an explanation, one is a world that cannot be read or even "understood."

In fact, it is a world without understanding at all, or without comprehension. It is like a dream, except that nothing in it is actually dreamlike in the ordinary sense -- it is like a dream, but not like dreams, not in any way that a human being could ever possibly be, even in a dream. At one point one of the characters is told by her teacher that he has never had a dream in his life, even though all of us do have them, and he is astonished by the suggestion. At another point, one of the characters feels herself being "stared down" by a character in some sort of strange and alien world, and this "world" feels to her like a human world, like the world she feels she is "from."

There are two versions of this story, of course, but it is all the same story. The two versions are what each one of the characters is "trying to see," if the reader can imagine such a thing. But each character can never "see the story of the other," and the reader, too, can never see what either character can "see."

This is not just a moral or "religious" story, although it has much of that quality too. The central theme is, in a sense, the impossibility of the moral/religious story. In the moral

[rudystree]

season 3 was actually my favorite season! everything about it was just really good. the pogues finally getting the gold. it was so amazing.

ward and big john dying?! that was shocking, but i kinda saw it coming. when we started to hear john b's narration of the situation and the camera shows ward, dead, and he says something to the affect of the villains becoming heros. in that moment, i didn't know if i still hated ward or if i kinda liked him for sacrificing his own life for sarah.

idk how to feel about big john though. he tried getting john b to keep secrets from the pogues even though they had every right to know what was going on. that lead to sarah and john b getting into a fight, which lead to sarah kissing topper, sarah telling jb and then finally jb beating up topper and now he's getting charged w it. the charges don't matter eventually, but still. it caused sm problems within the story.

popecleo was so freaking cute. i loved it sm. i just loved their chemistry. carlacia and jd did an amazing job on portraying it. seeing cleo comfort pope when he was about to shoot rafe was just so pure!! i really cannot wait to see how their relationship is in season 4.

jiara this season!! i actually never chose sides between the jjpope/jiara war, but jiara was actually so good. seeing something develop in season 1 that was completely unintentional to season 3, the characters getting together just shows how much the fandom's voice was being heard.

i don't really know why the writers keep planning sarah to go back to topper after fights she has with john b. it's just so unnecessary and not even shocking atp. there was many more other situations they could've done instead of sarah getting w topper.

jj's storyline w luke! i hate how they just forgot about that in mid season 2 and didn't care to look back at it. it was just completely unfair how they would do that to jj. i wanted the writers to dive deeper into jj's personal life and see the root causes to all of it.

anyways, i would love to hear your thoughts about season 3!!

omg i LOVE this review!!! tysm 🫶🏻

i tried to condense all my big thoughts in an earlier post because i actually agree with legit everything you wrote here. 🌟

ward had an interesting arc this season. i liked what they did with him. in the teaser / trailer i was super pissed that they were still trusting him with stuff (and yeah…it was dumb) but he did show redeeming qualities somehow. big john actually made him look like a better father 💀 i’m glad he’s dead now and i like the way he went with a little dignity left.

i also never chose sides in the jiara / jjpope stuff. i only became a jiara shipper once i knew it would be canon for sure. and it was beautiful. i gotta say, i did miss jjpope scenes, platonically. it was sweet that they included their little talk about kie. but i needed a lot more. popecleo was so so cute and i would’ve liked a second lil bro talk about it. they also missed such a major opportunity with sarah and jj staying together — those two have so much to talk about, whether it’s kie/john b or the fact that they’re both parentless and homeless. but instead they wasted time driving her back to topper..again. it was a real shame.

every setback however was kind of redeemed by the fact that jj was looking like a whole 3 course meal ajshskshsk 😩 like …he ALWAYS looks good. but his S3 looks just had me floored the whole time. and the badass energy? that man is so damn fine. and to think ppl spent so much time worrying and complaining about his hair, body, etc during filming. if any plot line bothered me i just think about how gorgeous he is and i’m okay again lmao.

now if we didn’t know that a S4 is coming i would’ve thought for sure this was the series finale. i am NOT a fan of the time jump. but now i’m just very intrigued as to how they are gonna keep the story going. and with a bit of luck S4 will be jj-centric and feature some much needed stories on his background 🤞🏻

[sleuthy-scientist]

Dead Men Don't Talk

*Just a quick, random one shot I wrote about a letter Douglas Bailey leaves for Emily.

Hope it's not too out of character I have only watched the first 2 episodes of this season.

Enjoy🙃*

Emily,

I am such an idiot and I know you will never forgive me when you find out the truth. That someone like you would ever be able to trust me again. I hate knowing I will disappoint you and cause you pain.

You were right, you have been right every step of the way. The things your theorized, the decisions you profiled. You Emily Prentiss are amazing.

I wish I had been brave enough to go against my orders from above. That I had listened to your insight instead of believe my own inexperienced opinions.

Obviously if you are reading this I am dead. I can guarantee you its through no fault of your own. I've seen firsthand how much you care and empathize, the dedication and effort you put forth.

You gave me the benefit of the doubt, you kept giving me chances to listen to you and make the right choices, follow the proper strategies to end this.

I thought I knew better, that I could handle it, that I had everything under control. I thought I saw the big picture and all the little details needed to make the FBI more efficient. But I was wrong, I got trying to translate my knowledge and skills where they didn't belong. I focused on the stupid details, listened to the wrong people, instead of who and what really mattered.

I know how this story ends for me, and I don't want you to feel guilty or place blame on yourself. I know without a doubt in my mind you did everything you possibly could to save me. That when people are in danger, you try and save everyone, even those not worth saving.

You will beat Sicarius, bring down his network and allies. I know because that's who are. You are a good person Emily, you will outwit him. You truly encompass and surpass the qualities the FBI stands for. I have never met anyone like you. Anyone so selfless, loyal, brave, strong, smart, gorgeous, and funny.

I get it now, why the rest of the BAU admires you so much. The are lucky to have you, you are a credit to your profession. You deserve to be the director of the FBI, to be running the show. Because you know how who people are and what they need. You don't put your ego and opinions above what is right or just.

You never wanted the accolades, attention, or applause and appreciation. You just wanted to make the world a better and safer place. I hate that you didn't get the credit you deserved and were used as a scape goat for the things you had no hand in. You should never have been used like that, by anyone. I know you don't want or need it, but I hope you get the credit and recognition you've more than earned.

Knowing you was everything. I can't believe what a dick I was to you. The political bullshit I used to believe was right and necessary. The way I tried to strong arm you without giving you the resources you needed and deserved to do your job.

I learned my lesson the hard way, I hope the Attorney General and other higher ups don't have to. I hope they finally listen to what you have to say and can take their own biases, egos, and selfishness out of the equation. You and your team are the ones with the knowledge and experience needed most now.

I didn't understand before what you and your people do. What your jobs entail, how you all manage to handle the ugly violence you deal with everyday. To be strong and brave enough to look evil in the eye and stop it. To try and get something resembling justice for those left behind.

I'm sorry Emily for this, for that, for everything I can't explain to you. I'm glad atleast if I'm dead I won't be there to see you lose you faith in me. You believed in me, and saw me in a way no body ever has before. You thought I was a better man than I gave myself credit for.

I hope my death isn't in vain, that it makes amends for my actions and helps you end this madness. That you get the bad guy. My greatest desire is that you find love and happiness for yourself. You deserve the world Emily, I wish I had been a better man to be able to give it to you.

Sincerely,

Douglas

P.S. For what it's worth, I stand with you Emily and the decisions you make going forward. I know they will be the right ones.

[beebo-biris]

Song- Touch Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon

This was my final project for school where I had to choreograph 2 minutes of modern dance to a song of my choice :). It was super fun, and though I want to redo it someday to fix up some bits, I’m really happy with how it turned out.

If u wanna know what the dance is about/ the poem it’s based on read below

Here is the poem if you are curious, and disclaimer: NONE of this is meant to be about self harm, just an exploration of themes usually found gross by most people, and a way for me to play with that because body horror usually really grosses me out hahah. And content warning, this poem is a little gross.

Modern Monster

Mirrors to windows, I look eye to eye

And I hold myself there, my head turns, I die.

I’ve watched a rose rise, and shed a part

Mangled flesh and blood fall as I cry

For finally, it’s me who rips out my heart

The disfiguring process can finally start

I can walk the street, eyes bleeding, unashamed

And with my organs paint a grotesque art

Corrupted by the joy of change

I take pride in the selves that I’ve maimed

From their Irises I drank an icy blue

Smiled for the joy and pain I’ve reclaimed

But it was always rebirth so I know it to be true

It no longer scares me the many times will I become anew

I’m glad I don’t know who I am anymore

In my pool of blood, I can sigh through and through

An unrelenting gale. An unruly storm.

I had the audacity to be reborn

And I don’t know who I am anymore

And I don’t know who I am anymore

Description:

This dance is modeled on a poem I wrote, also called "Modern Monster" (pun intended) where I sort through my complicated feelings about gender. I was making many discoveries while writing the poem and later while making this dance. It deals with the idea of body horror, and the realization often found in that genre that your body is not your own and is changing beyond a way that you can control. I made this dance to show an acceptance of this fact. It starts with the character deliberating over a graceful or contorted movement quality, and then finding that no matter what they do, they cannot stop the movement switching between regal or contorted of it's own accord. The middle of the dance expresses an apathy to this, letting it happen and letting themselves be taken over. Then, they express a horror of being seen by others before the transformation completes. To the character's shock, though, they find they have a new ability to take up space in movement in a way they never had before, and they relish in their newfound freedom. The dance ends with the character walking away, signaling this is a process that will never truly be over, but hopefully one they are more equipped to handle. It was very cathartic to make this dance, and I'm happy I had a way to express these feelings in a way really unique to me. Finding power in this process has made it enjoyable, something I thought wouldn't have been possible :).

[metellastella]

Animation Usurper

Happy International Asexuality Day!

Fun Fact, I wrote this during Ace Week in October. But apparently I either am so forgetful, or dissatisfied with my prose or am distractible or just couldn’t motivate myself to do clarifying edits, or some combo of those, here we are all these months later. 

So. Let’s make up for lost time.

I’m very far along the ace spectrum, so I typically don’t like Western ‘adult’ cartoons. (as a result of a particular brand of ace, not all ace people experience repulsion) Really, it’s more because the industry has collectively decided ‘adult cartoons’ should mean almost always be *obnoxious and in-your-face* about sexuality, as opposed to some animes made for adults whose focus isn’t that but maybe it includes it occasionally. 

To go on a bit of an unrelated tangent, Japan has a lot more respect for the ART medium of animation. And aside from aesthetics and effort, middling thematic variety between ‘this is all about sex’ and ‘for kids.’ 

(not fond of violence either) 

Sadly though, I find the style repetitive and haven’t really done a deep dive on anime. It doesn’t sate the ‘novelty-seeking’ aspect of my psychology. But I venerate all the effort. I just wish there was some fusion between the two, where Japanese animation was a little less rigid in its style dictates and Western animation aimed a little higher for quality. Maybe that’s arising, as you’ll see here in a bit later. 

It also doesn’t help that Western adult cartoons seem to think it’s funny to have a dial-it-in art style. 

I don’t like the idea of someone spending months of their lives, limited time on earth per minutes of animation, just to have it look scruffy, or flat, derivative, or unimaginative. That is incredibly disheartening to picture, as an artist. Even just being a hobbyist. 

Call it vicarious existential anxiety, I suppose. 

Maybe some might misread that concern and call me a ‘snob’ for that, but, hey, what’re ya gonna do. 

It’s as if, since again they seem to have very little self-respect for their stories or characters, the crude animation and character design itself is a crutch to add to the writing of comedy, and should be laughed at. 

Maybe people do find that funny. 

And note, I’m not even necessarily talking about making animation realistic or proportioning bodies exactly like anime does. Elegance can be found in the simplest of character designs, if someone deliberately creates it that way. See: the animation studio that produced The Secret of Kells, Song of the Sea, The Breadwinner, Wolfwalkers, and most recently, My Father’s Dragon. 

(kinda glad I dragged my feet and got to give a shout-out to that last one) 

Lego Monkie Kid, for that matter!!!!

Cannot say enough good things about that show. I’ll probably make a whole separate post about it. 

To be honest, I quite frequently find myself digging for aesthetically pleasing ‘moving art,’ and sometimes the story is secondary. A stationary artist doesn’t have to tell me a whole story for me to enjoy their painting- and artist animators who just happen to draw a bad card from the deck and not to be blessed with pairing to good writers nonetheless pique my interest. 

I’ve done enough stationary art browsing over my lifetime, that, in fact, maybe I’ve jaded myself a little. If even a tiny fraction of the stellar character design in art communities online were animated, I think people would start to see the problem, and variety would blossom. 

So, that brings me to an interesting intersection of this musing. 

And don’t worry, the ace spec subject does come back into it full circle. 

Independent animators.

If you had described these two very well-known web animations to me beforehand, and asked me which you think I would like more, I would’ve selected ... 

Bee and Puppycat. 

I mean. Obviously. Cute creatures and whimsical settings. Not too adult and not too babyish either, something that is astonishingly rare among Western animation?? 

You might have heard grumblings of this before in fandom spaces, questioning and wondering about why there seems to be no middle ground.

But, oddly, even though I fully mentally recognize B & P as a landmark achievement, both as a step outside monopolized media production spaces and hitting a sweet spot that is sorely lacking within them ... I just didn’t resonate with it. 

This is baffling to me, because as I mentioned, the style of it is very appealing, so what gives? I’m put off of some shows with good writing because of aesthetic style, (as a corollary to the seeking styles and disregarding writing, kinda like someone may vibe to acoustic stylings of a piece of music even if the lyrics are utterly insipid on their own) but usually the reverse does not happen. Even if I didn’t like the writing or plotting, which is far from the case, as the writing’s fine, I should have been motivated to finish it.

Honestly, I haven’t quite worked that out yet, tho I have an inkling, and it’s related to suggesting an IRL friend to record Bee’s lines since she likes it so much. 

But, that’s not the reason I started this ramble, and not as well-developed as my thoughts on art styles, so forgive me for leaving it aside. 

Enter the Dark Horse animation that, had you asked me beforehand if I would like, I would’ve said ‘yeah prob not for me, I’ll move along.’ 

Helluva Boss (and Hazbin Hotel). 

There are LOADS of reasons I shouldn’t take a shine to this cartoon. 

1. HH & HB are barely above the likes of Rick and Morty and Simpsons et all in its incessant ‘adult’ jokes 

and again don’t misunderstand me here, I /enjoy/ Star Trek Lower Decks. It makes tolerable and judicious use of adult jokes and doesn’t overly rely on them.

2. HH’s style- while absolutely cool- is behind B & P in terms of preference. BUT. In terms of creativity and flow, is heads and shoulders above practically all big name cartoons out there. What I call the “golf ball eye” phenomenon, in which eyes are perfectly round with mere dots. So you get two moldy foods to consume for the price of one: lack of variation in creativity AND lack of character expressiveness and nice looks. Three sci fi examples are Star Trek: Lower Decks, Final Space, and Solar Opposites. One I love, the middle is not bad, and S.O.’s humor is great. Buuuuut. Their face aesthetics….. Even SU Pearl’s exceedingly simple, no-pupil eyes add SO much to the draw of the character with just the inclusion of a single color. I’m not asking for much. I promise. Not even Owl House style highlights are a bare requirement. I know how hard animating is. I like things like She-Ra, soft and round shapes, and tend to dislike sharp edges (Sorry, most recent Ninja Turtles remake. Kipo, you’re fine hunny, just a lil off) and yet. Somehow HH has bypassed that into ‘wtf why do I love this so much.’ Wily little sneaks. 

I mean, when the likes of Aquaman 2022 feels like ‘a breath of fresh air’ because there’s so little visual variety in animation, you know something’s amiss. Not to knock it too hard, though. I wish that had been that artist’s “breakout role,” tbh, instead of the first job he got stuck with before that, because he will be forever remembered as the guy who ruined a nostalgic fandom’s wishes at behest of executives and not the guy who made something as whimsical and fun as this iteration of Aquaman. The character was usually the butt of the joke among DC fans to begin with, and therefore has more leeway to be silly. That style won extra points that supplements its questionable aesthetic raw merit. To be fair, there’s so much motion in the character’s body emoting, that also goes beyond very stiff, basic poses common in other shows, I have to give points for that, too. 

3. HH universe takes religious concepts and obviously has no respect for them. In a somewhat similar but more lowkey way, recalling a screed by a practicing Hindu who was understandably angry at the less-than-respectful comedic moments in ATLA towards certain cultural aspects, I simply find the /premise/ cringe. I know cringe culture is dead and all. I even agree with that general sentiment. I think Vivzie will sleep fine at night if one backwater Tumblr blog- who’s ultimately still complimenting her- uses the term as a one-off. 

It doesn’t help that the vision of Hell typically forwarded in the modern day that is used to terrorize fundie-raised kids during childhood doesn’t resemble the original Hebrew belief and therefore the whole show ends up reminiscent of so much IRL totally unnecessary angst. 

I’d almost rather have a fantasy setting that had its own underworld concept, or could be similar to HH canon but with 4th wall breaks that slyly hinted they’re all in Dante’s Inferno which was, historically, political satire of the time (essentially a longform political cartoon, hue hue) and 0% Biblical to begin with …..  Idk. 

(though I did have a strange conversation with someone recently which indicated Dante’s Inferno may have been based on pieces of the Quran. Weird.) 

4. HB characters are abrasive. I could barely get through Homestuck. Lower Decks is here again a good comedy counterexample of characters that aren’t CONSTANTLY backbiting each other for the sake of a joke.

(or verbally abusing children, as one sci fi protagonist everybody loves to hate)

So, the mystery: how did I manage to stick with this cartoon, with so much pulling against it? 

Again, can’t quite put my finger on it 

But, I know that by the second episode, it had one little grip on me with Stolas sweetly serenading his daughter against a backdrop of the cosmos and exploding planets. 

Encouraged, I thought that perhaps there would be more sincere moments like that. I was hurting for musical animation after all, I can barely comprehend why it’s not more common. (sadly, Centaurworld did not really effectively scratch that itch, for me personally, tho I did latch onto a couple songs long term). Corporations want people hooked on their content, but you don’t offer us that which burrows into the brain and repeats itself for days at a time? 

The one time capitalism fails to take advantage of something, and it’s the pleasant things. Figures.

So, back into the thick of it, I’m halfway through the season and have found some bits and pieces to like, but still am questioning if the likable outweighs the negatives. Then I see Blitz and Moxie do their duet. Now that scene alone was worth everything else. Purely aesthetically it’s a treasure, a subtle shift in artstyle that mimicked the likes of Disney, and the character depth upgraded several notches.

So now by this point, I knew, I’m gonna watch the rest of this series at least. Dunno if I was gonna be super invested in the fandom, but not everything you watch will consume your soul like that, so all good. 

And then. 

Drumroll. 

The Wrath Ring pair visits the club. 

They are relentlessly mocked for being ‘too vanilla’ for everyone around them. 

Man. 

You don’t know HOW hard that hit me. You can’t comprehend it. 

Feeling constantly out of place b/c of not being allosexual. It’s not a perfect parallel obviously, but it nonetheless struck a deep vein of accumulated angst. 

Irony of ironies, the cartoon that may have slipped through my fingers because of VERY SIMILAR issues to that scene IRL managed to take a pickaxe to my psyche. 

Seeing two people being unapologetic about being more modest in their desires in the face of what could be interpreted as amatonormativity on steroids was indescribable. 

In fact, the parallel gets even closer to reality when you consider any perfectly ordinary woman who’s had the accusations flung at her for being ‘frigid’ or ‘repressed’ whether by men pressuring her or well-meaning friends or acquaintances who think they know what’s good for her better than she does. 

An excellent counter-anthem: 

I’d think she’d resonate with this too, and if not, maybe see the episode with new eyes after reading this little entry. 

In the modern era, in these ways, there is ubiquitous prude shaming and over-forced sex-positivity even of non-aces. 

So, I formally present to you my carefully constructed headcanon on behalf of bygone Ace Week: Moxie and Millie are both gray ace. Their attractions are more subtle than that palm sweaty, instant-draw that ‘primary attraction’ often generates, and subsequent strikes of physical desire. 

They might or might not have ‘secondary attraction’ as their only experience (demi) in the stylings of the very popular Friends-To-Lovers trope, but without their backstory of how they met, we can’t determine that yet. 

They are alloromo, of course. Alloace. Probably hetace. 

After some reflection, as an inversion, Blitz could probably be read as aroallo. 

(I know it’s played as if he’s simply ‘afraid’ of getting in a serious relationship, but if you pay close attention, his platonic relationships are presented the exact same way- so it could be just relationships and emotional vulnerability in general. It doesn’t directly have to mean he experiences romo attraction. We don’t see a lot of him deliberating and being ‘drawn’ to it but shying away- rather he’s so oblivious to romance he stumbles into inviting Stolas out without even once thinking what it might mean to the other. Sorry but, that is an incredibly common experience among aro people, not realizing how they’re coming across to another person!!) (and his response to a clearly romantic overture of watching movies and cuddling even more hints that his brain operates in aro mode)  

And Angel Dust gives off vibes which are much more straightforwardly aroallo.

And to round it all out, we have the canon aroace character, Alastor. 

And thus concludes HH’s careful courting of me. The initial rocky start, the resistance, has evaporated and I am invested.

...

P.S. 

If you’d like to see some more independent animation, check out Lackadaisy, which is absolutely stunning 

And Talon, the fluidity of which is somewhat rougher, but is nonetheless ambitious, has some neat light effects, and definitely for those who adore dinosaurs 

[elfhchan]

I'm crying you're so sweet, bestie!!😭💖 I am very glad that I was able to make you happy with my words! Aww~ it's okay and the size doesn't matter!! All your works, regardless of their length are amazing trust me! Hehe, I blush at your words again, my dear!! I didn't expect you to like it at all, I'm kicking my feet because im so happy waaaaah >///< Yes, it is! It's so cute that he tried to be himself, and even wanted to ride Ghostie, which he eventually did 😩💘 I mean, even being like a puppy, he stays as a top at some point and it's so cool! Yeeeah in fact the moment with Ghostie on the window sunbathing melted my heart and a bit later I will show how much!! To be honest, your fanfiction can be both sad and a bit with pain for me, and I totally adore them too!! The characters look alive, just like the real ones and it is really nice! Oh, I would write you so many comments under all your fanfiction about how sensual your works are, how wonderful every line you've written, all the feelings that you describe make me get goosebumps, and they do not cause an overwhelming at all, they only cause positive feelings! In fact, I read this fanfiction almost as soon as you published it, well, maybe an hour after publication... I wrote to you about this only yesterday because I wanted to show you a drawing inspired by your incredibly amazing work. And even now I answered you so late because I just recently finished it... 😔 I tried to make it with the atmosphere that you described in your work, but maybe I didn't quite understand how the shadow from the sun falls at them both, so it turned out like this- oh and it's nice that you're in a good mood and readers could feel it through fanfiction too!! <33 I am sending you hearts, your works and answers are just incredibly nice and beautiful, you are the best, sweetheart!! 💖💖💕💞💘💖💕💘💞💘💕💖💘💖💕💘💕💘💞💘💕💘💖💘💕💘💖💕💘💝💕💘💖💝💕💘💘💖💝

Also sorry for bad quality i can't do anything with it NOW BYE IM RUNNING AWAY CUZ IM SHY AAAAAAA

Once again, thank you for taking the time to read and express your feelings about my fanfics! It is an honor to have someone who is this dedicated to what they like and it makes me even happier that this is my work you enjoy reading! I always try to bring at least a small amount of storytelling and emotions to the story, I dont want it to be too smvty and basic because then it loses its meaning. I see Ghosty and Kon as humans, not just characters, so I need to showcase that, even if sometimes the outcome is sad or a bit painful.

Never feel down for commenting late or anything of the sort, we all have lives and it's totally okay with me whenever you do, I enjoy seeing your comments and thoughts on my stories!! Your artwork is ADORABLE, so cute, and bestie, you are SUPER talented! You portrayed the scene very well, and you also gave such a beautiful dimension to Simon's eyelashes, I LIVE! I appreciate your time and effort so much, you didn't have to go through all the trouble to create this tho!! Make sure to eat something yummy to reward yourself for this! And also, this will go on my wall, no joke! I adore it, it's now my favorite artwork of them ever! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Also don't feel bad about the quality, I LOVE YOUR ARTWORK REGARDLESS!!!

૮˶• ༝ •˶ა ./づ /̵͇̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ‧₊˚♥︎♡

[yesimwriting]

Tranquility

A/n about time i wrote something for my privateer,, my love, Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: You and Nikolai are masters of being a couple without actually dating, and the only thing threatening that is the way Nikolai gets after having a nightmare. 

--

Tranquility. So rare for a world on the cusp of war. I guess that’s what the difference between a world at war and a world only boarding on it, the occasional glimmers of goodness, peace. I shift cautiously, careful to not disturb Nikolai. He is tranquility, especially in the few moments in which he allows himself to rest. Not long ago, I found his trips to my bed in the middle of the night strange. But now I only think of the oddness of it when I can’t fall asleep and I find myself enjoying the peaceful lull of his even breaths more than I should. I think a lot of things we do are more indulgent than they should be. 

Nikolai only comes to visit me when the bags under his eyes become noticeable and his humor falls flatter than normal. I tell myself he takes my comfort because he trusts me to some extent and I give it to him willingly when he seeks it. I’m not fully innocent. I take his peace, his touch and warm sentiments, when they are offered to me. But now I’m bordering on something else. Something much more devastating. 

This isn’t something I can afford to think about, to weigh on. Not now when war is on its way and Nikolai already has so much to worry about. Perhaps I’ll mention this to Alina and she’ll manage to give me some type of perspective, but that isn’t something I should do now. When the world has ended or is made safe, then I will sort through the significance of the way my heart stalls or speeds up for him and him alone. 

I should just try to fall asleep again. If I do, when I wake up again Nikolai will either already be gone because of his duties or he’ll make some kind of joke about how fortunate I am to wake up to such a sight before trying to coax me back to bed. I shouldn’t want that.

Ugh. He’s so pretty, I hate it. It’s unfair--one cannot expect someone to have someone like Nikolai dote on them, playfully or otherwise, and not catch some type of connection. Even in sleep, with his golden hair disheveled, parted lips, and fluttering eyelids he’s unfairly attractive. I sigh, the irony of the situation twisting my stomach--if he knew my thoughts his ego would bask in them. 

As if he can feel my conflict, his defined eyebrows draw together, his placid expression turning harsh. I tense, watching as that look only hardens. Is he...okay? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had some kind of nightmare. Nikolai’s lips press together, and then he makes a noise. A sad, discomforted sigh. 

The remnants of my drowsiness disappear at that. I place a hand on his shoulder thoughtlessly, shaking him once. “Nikolai.” I keep my voice low and soft. His expression stays hard, “Wake up, it’s not…” He lets out another broken sound. I shake him a little more determinedly. “It’s not real.” 

Nikolai’s eyelids flutter once more, and he’s pushing himself upwards, sitting up and breathing harshly. My hand falls off his shoulder, but I think it’s better this way. He needs space to realize that he’s safe. 

Taking two shallow breaths, Nikolai turns his head. I watch him carefully, resisting the instinctual urge to help him, to comfort him and chase away the darkness that wants to engulf him. 

“Y/n?” His voice is so fragile a part of me doesn’t recognize it as his. 

I nod my head once, folding my hands in my lap to avoid reaching for him. “You’re okay. It was just a dream.” 

His gaze flits from my face to the ruffled blankets draped over me. He’s silent and still. Two things he should never be for a long period of time. Nikolai shifts slowly, as if still trapped in a daze. I let his hand take mine from my lap and pull it towards him. He squeezes my hand once, bringing my knuckles to his lips. I inhale sharply as he exhales, warm breath burning my skin. And then his lips brush against each knuckle. I let him, fighting not to let myself be reduced to a puddle. 

Nikolai lifts my hand, coaxing my palm open before placing it on his cheek. I brush my thumb down his cheek. He lets out a breath, the sound is soft yet it leaves my heart raw. 

I don’t say anything as he moves his hand down my arm, fingertips leaving my skin electrically charged as he always does. He pauses once his hand is on my shoulder. I let him grip me harder than I normally would. It feels like I am an anchor, weighing him in place so that the dark cannot take him away from me. 

My lips part, but I have no words to offer him, not when I don’t know the extent of his torment. Nikolai’s hand brushes past the sleeve of my nightgown and across my collarbone. I swallow once, dropping my gaze to avoid the sharpness of the look he’s giving me. 

“You’re heavy sometimes,” I keep my voice low, “I wish I could--” 

“You do,” his voice leaves no room for argument. The tone is filled with a tension that he has never used on me. “You do everything.” 

“And you are everything.” His expression softens at my words. It feels like a reward in a way. 

Nikolai moves forward, the bed makes a noise as he rustles the sheet. I don’t bother asking what he’s doing. He’s always touchier than usual after a nightmare, breaking even more social rules than normal. I let him place his head in the crook of my neck while ignoring the warmth that pushes itself into my chest as he adjusts himself against me. I hesitate before placing my hand on his back even though I know he’d never reject me. He lets out a breath at the additional contact, adjusting himself so that he’s even more against me. I move my hand up and down his back.

The urge to ask him about what his dreams are about bubbles in my chest, but I ignore it. If he wanted to speak about it, he would. 

“Things are easier with you.” His voice is so delicate it’s almost hard to bear. His hand presses into my side and my breathing stiffens as a result.“I’m glad you’re here.” 

I meet his gaze as he tilts his head upwards. “Of course I am, how could I ever resist someone as wonderful as you?”

The corner of Nikolai’s lips tug upwards, a sign that he appreciates my attempt at humor. “You’re not wrong, darling.” I roll my eyes as he grins, ignoring the way my stomach tightens as he presses his face into my shoulder to hide his amusement. “You’re the wonderful one.” 

I smile slightly, sarcastic retort dying in the back of my throat as something in Nikolai shifts. His eyes have taken on a simple, dark quality. I’ve seen this tension in him before, but I’ve never understood it. Nikolai tilts his head slightly, regarding me with more intensity than I know how to deal with. He shifts closer until I can feel his breath on the edge of my jaw. And then I feel his lips brush against skin. Testing, cautious. I don’t move. He must take this as a good sign because he then presses his lips further up my jaw. Again and again, always gentle, always fragile--always more welcomed than it should be. 

I close my eyes, indulging in the feel of his touch, and then I feel him touch my cheek. The contact is feather light as my eyes flutter open. He’s close in a different way now, lips two centimeters away from mine. 

This means nothing to him, this is nothing to him. It is just a way to push through pain he refuses to share with me. “Nikolai.” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out as a breathy sigh. “Nikolai…” A little stronger, he pauses, face a centimeter from my face. 

“Y/n.” My name is soft grace on his lips. 

My eyes shut. “You can’t--you can’t kiss me just because you need to be distracted.” 

His eyebrows draw together and then he straightens. The distance between us leaves me colder than before. “Do you really think that?” 

I press my lips together. “We should just go back to sleep--” 

“Y/n,” he sighs once, “Is that what you think?” 

I stare at the blankets, gripping the fabric. “Does it matter?” 

“Yes.” His voice is hard, losing all touches of irony. “It matters.” I stay silent, avoiding Nikolai’s gaze. “Out of all the reasons I want to kiss you, being distracted isn’t even on the list.” 

My head snaps in his direction. What is he implying? “What?” 

“Y/n,” his hand is on my arm, warm and tempting, “I want to kiss you because when you smile it feels like all the bad goes away. I want to kiss you because you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking and then that’s the only thing I can think about. I want to kiss you for the same reason I come to your room whenever I want to rest. You’re my tranquility.” My eyes soften at his words, my mind racing at the implications of them. “You’re biting your lip again, darling, and it’s torture.” 

On instinct, my lips part slightly. He doesn’t move closer or farther away. I exhale slowly, trying to push away the electric current the potential of this moment is stirring. Nikolai’s hand moves up my arm and settles on my cheek. 

His thumb brushes against my cheek, making me melt. “I want to kiss you because when I’m with you all of the bad, all of the uncertainty disappears.” 

Nikolai leans forward slightly, breath warm near my skin. “Is that all?” 

If his touch wasn’t so enticing I’d roll my eyes at such a blatant attempt to get a compliment. But his touch is all consuming, especially when he moves to run his thumb across my bottom lip. “No--you’re also ridiculously enticing, but something tells me you don’t need me to add to your ego.” 

He grins, shifting impossibly closer before finally letting his lips meet mine. The contact is everything I’ve ever needed, his lips warm and inviting and eager. I kiss him back easily, melting into him like that’s where I’ve always belonged. Nikolai pulls away slowly, drawing out the kiss and letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

“For the record, you’re the only ego boost I need.” He smiles lazily, hand not leaving my cheek. “You’re my peace, y/n,” he exhales flatly, “Please remember that.” 

There’s something strangely sleepy yet revered about his tone. “Of course I will,” I hum, letting him rest his head against my chest, “You’re my peace, too.” 

“Sometimes when I dream I see you and then I lose you.” Nikolai’s tone leaves my heart sore as he adjusts against me. 

“You’re not losing me,” I whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Ever.” He exhales gently. “Get some sleep--you never get enough rest.” 

He squeezes me once, pressing a quick kiss to my collar. “Whatever you want.” 

I half roll my eyes, too tired to to call him out on his teasing, the lull of sleep strengthened only by the weight of him against my chest. 

 --

general tag list: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[francium-hydroxide]

Day 1: Elections

decided to do @tntduo-brainrot-is-real's lil valantines day week thingy bc why not. fun fact i wrote this in an hour ish , it's quite short (678 words) & i am too tired to proof read this or check if it makes any sense bc its almost 3am right now. this was a very last minute thing bc i realised i have not written anything since christmas & wanted to write something

Oh! and this was also heavily inspired by @lunelicmoone's election arc post here, especially with the whole c!quackity inserting dirty jokes into his debates that would infuriate c!wilbur. idk if i did it justice but i tried :') anyways enough rambling & i hope you enjoy <3

~~~

Wilbur could feel his face burning so much that it could’ve might as well burn him alive from the inside out. Slowly and agonisingly.

He could lie and claim that it was due to the fact that he had been standing under the sun for the past half hour, which though was true, only made up 15% of the reason.

The other 85% was contributed by Quackity- formally recognised as the opposition side, because this was a debate, and informally known as a pain in the ass, because he was.

Once the latter had finished up the last of his answers to the question, the debate moderator, nodded before proceeding onto another question.

“What would you say is your best quality and how would you use it to benefit Lmanburg? Wilbur?”

“Right so,” He coughed, quickly turning his attention to the crowd in front of them and smiled. “ Firstly, I can confidently say that my finest quality i-”

“Your mouth.”

The two podiums were only just a couple feet away from each other on the stage, and unfortunately just because you’re no longer looking at your rival, doesn’t mean you won’t be able to hear every little comment he makes.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, less subtly as he would’ve liked as it seemed to raise a weird look from a couple people in the crowd.

But the show must go on. He couldn’t let a few dirty jokes ruin his reputation, not at this point.

“Is my optimism. I believe my ability to think of the positives rather than focusing on the negatives can not only allow me to make more rational decisions, but create better connections with my people. As for any setbacks and failures we may face in the future, I personally find them important for our growth as a nation. Because you see, failure is not the end, but often the start of something new.”

“Was my answer really that bad? I mean i guess I could also mention your-”

Wilbur immediately spoke louder into the mic, trying to drown out whatever Quackity was trying to say next.

He really didn't want to know.

He continued rambling on a while longer, and every now and then would his eyes find themselves glancing at Quackity, his attention would also waver ever so slightly to the comments muttered under his breath.

“That would be all, thank you.”

A scattered applause was heard and Wilbur nodded at the moderator at the side of the stage, who then passed the exact same question to the opposition side.

“Well I’m so glad you asked that.” Quackity grinned and Wilbur watched the way his opponent carried himself in just that five seconds. Unbothered yet confident, calm with a slight bit of charm in his voice.

If he had to be honest, he admired that- worthy competition.

“I believe my greatest quality is my leadership skills. It’s important to have these skills as they can be applied every day.”

Wilbur noticed the latter looking at him briefly.

“Or night.” Quackity continued to smile innocently. “Because who knows, maybe it can apply in places you would never expect.”

Wilbur hated that.

He hated that he had been doing this whole gimmick since question one. He hated how nobody except for him had been catching onto his comments. He hated how easy it was for him to get away with everything so far.

He hated how Quackity deliberately looked at him and dripped each word with honey because he knew that no matter how much Wilbur tried, he couldn’t resist such sweet things. No matter how much Wilbur wanted to ignore Quackity, he couldn’t. And for fuck sake, why was that? Why does he eat the honey knowing that the sweet syrup would betray him and leave him choking on it instead of feeling good?

Why. Why. Why.

The sun was getting hotter and the collar of Wilbur’s blouse was sticking more and more to his body.

His eyes wandered the opponent next to him. His opponent. The one who’s collarbone was glistening with sweat and hands moved about erratically as he got his point across.

He didn't know why and maybe he was better off not knowing.

[iwaisuke]

confessions; but not remembering it

ft. kita shinsuke, sakusa kiyoomi x sick fem!reader

genre: fluff

masterlist

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and then i rushed bc i was getting tired 🙃 also. sakusa's is a little ooc. sorry ab that

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

» the clean yet musty smell of rain filled the gym as the boys practiced. it was a surprisingly humid and rainy spring day today here in the country side of hyogo

» "achoo" you had been sneezing and coughing all day. you also had a terrible headache but took some medicine to see if it would help. the spring allergies really getting to you

» you didnt reay have the time to be worrying about yourself. As a 2nd year manager of the inarizaki team, (recommend by suna) and the boys working so hard practicing for nationals there was no way you'd let this little cold get in the way. you had to work just as hard as everyone else!

» "hold on, im about to hang up your jerseys to dry"

» "i got you guys some fresh towels!"

» "i can run and grab that coach. im headed that way anyways"

» the coach called for a short break to rest up for a bit. everyone was sore and exhausted from practicing every day. "here. i filled your water bottles up!" handing them to all the boys. "y/n you're all wet" akagi sounded concerned.

» "hm? oh its alright. I'll dry off in a minute. i took the shortcut to the drinking fountain to refill your waterbottles instead of taking the long way" you nonchalantly said. "so you ran through the rain like an idiot?" suna threw a clean towel over your damp hair and ruffled it. "suna!! stop!! you're gonna ruin my hair"

» "like i said. its alright" you reassured the boys.

» kita, on the other hand had noticed your fatigue. although he wasnt as perceptive on peoples feeling and thoughts as well as others, he could easily pick up signs like yours. he admired you dearly for how hard you always work for the team. how you willingly did anything to make them smile. how you always put others first before yours. needless to say, he had a bit of a crush on you.

» "l/n san. i think you should take a break too. there's no need for you to be running around for us while we're resting" kita assured you. "i still have a few things left on my list to do.. but afterwards I'll take a break!" kita let out a sigh. you were stubborn sometimes and kita knew you were the kind of person to not stop until you're finished.

» "I'll be right back. i gotta grab the laundry"

» making an excuse to leave, your heart was beating fast. you knew kita's words were the kind he'd say to anyone, but it made your heart feel fuzzy when he'd look out for you.

» the stone cold captain who you thought he was, actually was so kind. he was just a little awkward like you, and a little blunt with what he said sometimes. but you learned the great qualities he carries and how much he actually cares about others well being. he was a hard worker and you couldnt help but absentmindedly fall for the captain.

» running up the stairs to the second floor of the gym, you felt a shift in your step. head becoming dizzier than it was just 5 minutes ago. legs trembling, you started falling before feeling a presence behind.

» kita's arm wrapped around your waist, supporting you in efforts to not letting you fall over. "i told you to rest l/n san" kita said sternly. "you wont benefit anyone if you keep overworking like this."

» you knew kita was right, but you really didnt want to rest knowing you'll be letting the team down by not working hard.

» "i promise I'll rest as soon as im done with this one thing" pleading with kita. he let out a sigh, knowing you really wouldnt until you did finish so he allowed you to do so.

» finishing grabbing all of the dry jerseys and bringing them downstairs to pass out to everyone, you didnt really notice atsumu and osamu spiking volleyballs at each other until aran yelled

» "y/n! watch out!" honestly, you were too tired to move out of the way so you figured, it do be like that sometimes, and allowed the ball to hit you.

» or... so you had planned the ball to hit you.

» kita stood in front, blocking the impact of the spike that you had prepared yourself for. there was agitation in kita's eyes. more than you usually noticed when then twins were miss behaving. concern washing over, he looked you straight in the eyes

» "... is there something wrong kita san?" lifting up his hand to your forehead, he let out a sigh. "why didnt you tell me earlier you had a fever", then walking over to the coach meanwhile atsumu and osamu come over to apologise for being reckless.

» "get your stuff. we're going home" kita said bluntly.

» "huh? but practice is-"

» "please l/n san. for me"

» kita would only take yes for an answer this time. no if's ands or buts. so here you were, walking home with kita. only the sound of raindrops hitting your shared umbrella being heard.

» muscles starting to ache a little more and your legs becoming more tired than they were when you left the gym, you began to walk a little slower every step

» "get on my back l/n" "its ok kita san, i can walk. its already enough that you're walking me home" "i didnt ask if you wanted to. im telling you to"

» you couldnt tell if it was the fever that made your face warmer or if it was kita's words. nonetheless, you got on kita's back. he was a lot stronger than he looked and you couldnt help but stifen at being so close to your own crush like this.

» "relax. I'll make sure you get home." he reassured. you leaned into his back, warmth seeping in, your eyes began to feel heavy.

» "kita san" "yes?" "thank you for always watching out for me"

» a comfortable silence was met as the sound of rain filled your ears.

» "kita san" "hm?" "did you know..." your voice softened "i like you a lot kita san"

» did he hear you correctly? if he wasnt paying attention he wouldve missed what you had said, being drowed out through the pitter patter of water. now his heart thumping louder than ever before.

» "l/n san-" he was about to go on but was met with the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the soft snores of you on his back, knocked out from exertion. kita let out a light chuckle, finally relieved you were resting.

» you had missed the next day of school, but when you came back the whole volleyball team bombarded you with love.

» "WE'RE A FAILURE TO NOT NOTICE YOU FEELING SICK" atsumu cried. "how could we let our one and only precious manager get ill for taking care of us" akagi, clearly dissapointed in himself. "please let us know when we can take care of you too y/n" aran said.

» "its no big deal. really!" waving your hands in defense. "it was just a small cold. but i do have a question though"

» all the boys gathered around to hear what you had to say

» "how did i get home?? i really dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu"

» it shocked the guys honestly. you genuinely didnt remember a single thing due to your fever. "wait? you don't remember kita taking you home?" suna replied, your face becoming red. "k-kita san took me home-?" "yah. he left in the middle of practice to do so" osamu added.

» immediately, you got up to find the captain that apparently took you home the other day. he was in the storage closet cleaning and grabbing the equipment for todays practice.

» "kita san" "oh. l/n. glad you're feeling better" his smile brightened the musty closet. "about that, im sorry for troubling you and having you take me home the other day. i honestly dont remember what happened after i almost got hit by atsumu. my mind was really fuzzy that day, but im truly thankful for you going out of your way for me. it really means a lot"

» kita was dumbfounded. you really dont remember? "no need to apologize l/n. it was my responsibility as a captain. and afterall, what good would i be if i couldnt even take care of the person who means the most to me"

» your heart raced. 'person who means the most to me' ? cheeks blushing a rosy pink, you were internally thanking the musty store room from being dim.

» with arms full of equipment, kita walked by you and stopped.

» "by the way l/n san. did you know?"

» ears perking up at the vague yet familiar line

» "i like you a lot too l/n san"

» now we all know sakusa HATES germs and for the past week and a half, he's been telling you to keep up with washing your hands, wearing a mask at all times even when you eat omi it doesnt work like that. pls especially since you are prone to getting sick easily no matter how hygenic you are. your immune system just hated you. PERIODT

» you remembered sakusa scolding you for running out of hand sanitizer and then the next day you were out of commission. bed ridden with laryngitis, cough, slight fever, the whole works. it was like your body was making fun of you or something

» you texted komori, asking him to take notes in class for you and relay homework information while you were at home resting up. but there was one request you had and made komori PROMISE.

» DO NOT TELL SAKUSA YOU GOT SICK

» "he's probably gonna notice your absence y/n. he'll find out about it either way"

» "well if you dont tell him then he wont know. its not like he even cares about where i am like that"

» "thats what you might think. but i know he's gonna say something i can garuntee it"

» the next day at school, sakusa did notice your presence missing. it was quieter not having a 3rd person in the group of friends. not having you around to talk to him when komori was gone.

» pulling out his phone to text you, he asked where you were that day.

» "on a family trip :D !!! forgot to tell you, but I'll tell you all about it when i come back!" you wrote, attaching an old selfie of a different trip you went on to make it more believable.

» you had hoped this silly cold would get better in a day, but soon that day turned into 2 and then 3 and then 4... you pretty much missed the whole week of school at that point

» Friday rolled around and komori was on his phone all day. sakusa noticed his cousin fidget in his chair more than usual and it irked him to see him like that

» "what's with you today?" one eye raised, sakusa finally asked. "uhhh nothing really" komori wasnt very good at keeping secrets lets just start off with that, but he was trying his best.

» "well clearly somethings wrong. you're fidgeting." "well haven't you noticed somethings been different all week?" komori hinted

» sakusa sat there in thought. nothing's been different? he ate the same breakfast he usually does every morning. all his studies have been well. there were no tests this week so there was no reason to be anxious like komori was and even if there was, he would've done well anyways.

» "just tell me what it is." sakusa was starting to get annoyed. "y/n..." komori started. "y/n?" "do you know where she's been this week?"

» did you not tell komori about your family trip? you usually told komori everything, but then again you didn't tell him either until he asked you about it.

» "she said shes on a trip?" he nonchalantly said. komori's eyes started watering. "A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL THATS WHAT IT IS" he blurted out. komori didnt mean to let it slip , he was just so worried about your well being.

» "hospital?? what are you talking about. did she get injured on her trip?" "no omi. shes been sick all week and her mom just texted me saying she went to the hospital today because shes had a fever for 3 days straight. there is no family trip"

» sakusa's heart shattered. you were sick and didnt even tell him?

» before both he and komori knew it, his legs were running faster to get to the hospital than he had ever imagined he could ever run.

» and there you were. fast asleep in a bed with an IV drip. your face flushed, forehead sweaty and shallow breaths escaping your chapped lips. you were a hot mess but sakusa didnt care. stepping to your bedside to greet your mother she explained to him that she had to go to work and asked if he could watch over you until she gets back.

» sakusa said yes without even hearing the whole thing. his heart and mind saying yes to whatever it took to get you to feel better.

» gosh how he hated hospitals, but what he hated even more was the fact that you were in the hospital and he didnt even know.

» the doctor came in for their evening round and ensured sakusa that you were indeed getting better! your fever had broken not too long ago and your body was working extra hard to heal itself up!

» "is there anything i can do to help?" sakusa asked. he felt helpless in this situation just watching your face distort in uncomfort every now and then, and coughing your lungs out.

» patting sakusa's shoulder, the doctor told him that just being here for you is enough. "you gotta be a strong boyfriend for her alright son? she'll be able to go home tomorrow first thing in the morning if her fever doesnt come back"

» sakusa slumped in his chair at your bedside, the doctors words ringing through his head. 'boyfriend huh?' he thought to himself. "if i was her boyfriend..." he whispered to himself, "i would be a failure for not even knowing my girl was sick..."

» to kiyoomi, you were beautiful. even now in this sad state you were in. deep down he locked these growing feelings he had for you inside of him because he always felt like you were a better match with someone else and after this stunt you pulled of lying to him about going on a family trip, it only made him feel worse.

» it was now night time and you finally began to stir in your sleep, the fever finally gone. sakusa reached out to move some hair that was stuck to your face, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. your eyes slowly opened and met with his dark orbs.

» "y/n?" "saku- wait this is just a dream. omi wouldn't be here. he hates hospitals" you let out a forced laugh and then a sigh through your sore throat.

» you reached out to sakusa's hands that were resting on the side of your bed. "omi would never let me hold his hand because he'd say im passing germs to him so hopefully dream omi wont be the same" you were aimlessly talking to yourself, not even realizing that this really wasnt a dream.

» he squeezed your hand in return. hoping that you wouldnt let go any time soon. a funny smile appeared on your face just at the thought of him. "even if you're stupid for not realizing how much i like you... i cant wait to see you again omi" you whispered before falling asleep again.

» sakusa didnt know what to do. he sat there frozen in his chair. it was his first time hearing you call him omi. heck. you literally just confessed to the boy. his brain was running wild. groaning in distress he let go of your hand to step out for a breath of fresh air now that you were back asleep.

» it was 5am and your mother came back to the hospital and thanked sakusa for staying by your side. He left in a hurry to make sure you didnt see him there.

» Monday rolled around and sakusa was waiting outside of the school gates for you. he had planned on asking you about your "trip"

» "good morning sakusa!!" your bright and cheery voice rang through his ears. honestly he was trembling inside. the memory of you confessing to him still fresh in his mind.

» "how was your trip?" you stopped dead in your tracks. "haha... it was good !! sorry i forgot to get you a souvenir" you were trying to play it cool but sakusa could tell you were forcing yourself. "i wouldnt want a souvenir from where you came from so its fine" sakusa's words threw you off. "i - im not sure im understanding what you're saying sakusa?"

» you felt a tug on your hand. "dont you mean omi?" his voice husky as he whispered into your ear. cheeks flushed, your brain felt like it short circuted. you've always tried your hardest to not let it slip that you want to call him omi since he hated when people called him that.

» sakusa smirked at your cute reaction he got out of you. letting go of your hand he began to walk into the school leaving you at the gate dumbfounded. "and by the way. you're just as stupid for not realizing how long ive liked you too"

-» ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

thank you for your order! enjoy~!

[tinyboxxtink]

"....So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 3*

So I gave you a LITTLE lovin' at the end, give me a break. I'm loving all the angsty comments I'm getting. Really gives me a rush relishing in your pain. MWAHAAHAHAHAHA. I'm kidding I love you all please don't leave me.

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Tag List

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@storiesofsvu @believinghurts

-------

The next morning

As soon as you dropped Kylie at daycare and Maggie at school, you headed to work. You worked as an executive at an advertising company, so it gave you a lot of freedom to work from home. Really helped the whole "single mom" thing.

But today you had to go into the office for a meeting, and you were dreading it. The one day you could really use to yourself, you had to go and be around people, pretending to be okay. This was going to be hell.

During your meeting, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. You immediately went for it, thinking maybe by some miracle Rafael had figured out a solution super fast. But to your horror, it was a text from Billy.

LUNCH?

Oh god. He knew didn't he? He knew everything. There was no way in hell he was getting you alone in your house right now. You quickly texted him back discreetly.

I'M AT THE OFFICE TODAY.

*BUZZ*

THAT'S HALFWAY TO THE CITY. COME ON, I PROMISE I'LL HAVE YOU BACK IN TIME TO PICK UP THE GIRLS.

Was he serious? He wanted you to meet him in the City? Closer to Rafael? What kind of game was he playing? Well, at least you'd be in a public place. He couldn't murder you in front of an audience. And he promised you could pick up the girls, surely he was just going to let you leave after lunch. Right? While you were thinking it over, your phone went off again.

MY TREAT

His treat? Well, that would be a first. Sure he took care of them when they were married, but since their divorce he hadn't offered up a penny more than his legally obligated alimony and child support.

"Miss Y/N, do you have somewhere better to be?" Your boss interrupted your thoughts, you noticed that the whole boardroom was staring at you.

"No sir, sorry sir," You shook your head as you typed a quick OK back to Billy before shoving your phone back into your pocket.

-------

After your meeting you headed to the restaurant address Billy texted you. You sat in your Uber running your fingers nervously through your hair and checking your makeup. Though you really weren’t sure why-- Billy wasn’t the cute harmless man you fell in love with anymore, you had to remember that. No matter how much his smile made your knees weak.

You walked into the restaurant to see Billy already at a table. He smiled and waved at you, you walked towards him and joined him.

“Hey, sweetie,” He went for a hug, but you went for the handshake.

“Hey, Billy,” You nodded as you sat down across from him. “So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” He kept that hundred watt smile focused on you, you felt yourself blush.

“Okay?” You tried to act nonchalant as you picked up a menu and browsed it.

“Yeah, you know after I found out you were with that animal, Barba,” He picked up his own menu and began to peruse it. You were glad he wasn’t looking at you in that moment because as soon as he called Barba the animal as opposed to himself, your fists clenched.

“Oh? Yeah it was no big deal…” You tried to keep your voice calm.

“So what did he say about me?”

“N-Nothing, I kicked him out as soon as I hung up on you, Billy,” You glanced up at him. You weren’t lying, you did kick him out right after you hung up. And it was the biggest mistake in the world.

“Really?” He looked genuinely surprised, but elated. “You just believed me over him, just like that?”

“Well, of course Billy,” You nodded as you put the menu down. “You’re the father of my children, I’ve known you for almost a decade. I...loved you,” You gulped as you sipped the courtesy water. You didn’t know if it was a great idea to toss that in, but you figured you needed to throw him as far off the scent as you could.

“...Loved?” Billy asked curiously.

Shit. Abort Abort.

“I mean, I’ll always care about you Billy,” You put a hand over his, giving him the sweetest smile you could manage.

“And Barba?” He gripped your hand a little tighter. “Do you love him?”

Shit. Alright, stay calm.

“I thought I might,” You nodded sadly. “Before you told me what a...monster, he is,” You hated even saying the words, but he needed to buy what you were selling.

“Oh, honey,” Billy gave you a sympathetic smile. “You know that’s what I’ve always loved about you. Always so trusting, and loyal...those are really great qualities in a woman,”

“...Thank you?” You sounded offended.

“Gosh,” He chuckled. “You know I am starting to forget why we even broke up,”

Oh God.

“B-Because you were always working, and you thought it would be unfair to keep going like we were going on the kids, and me,” You reminded him.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He half laughed. “Gosh, you know I think I...I really messed that up,”

“...What?” You nearly choked on your drink.

“I think I made a huge mistake, choosing my...work, over you and the girls,” He gave you a genuinely apologetic smile.

“Oh, Billy you--” You tried to dissuade him, but he wasn't having it.

“No, you know what Y/N having the girls this past summer, it reminded me how much they mean to me. How much you, mean to me,” He took your other hand in his so he was holding them both now.

“But you know what? No more. Screw my job, I’m choosing my family this time,” He gave you the most loving smile and look you’d ever seen on him. You were starting to be even more confused than ever.

“...R-Really?” You blinked in disbelief. “You’d just...give up, your...job, for us?”

“Yes, I would babe,” He nodded, rubbing the back of your palms with his thumbs.

Suddenly, you remembered what kind of “job” he actually had. How could you get out of this? What would make sense? Wait, a thought occurred to you.

“...No,” You removed your hands from his.

“....No?” He repeated, his tone shifting. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, I’m not going to let you back into our lives, back into the girl’s lives. Get their hopes up that we can be a happy family again, and then you just take off again when you start itching to get back to work!”

“....Itching?” His nostrils flared. “Is there a reason you used that...specific phrase, Y/N?”

“No, it’s a term, Billy. Look it up,” You were getting more brazen, knowing you had a crowd of eyes around you. He wouldn’t try anything.

“You sure that’s not a certain lawyer talking, sweetheart?” He didn’t let up.

“....How do you know him, anyway Billy?” You suddenly changed the subject.

“Excuse me?” Now it was his turn to blink in disbelief.

“You knew him, when you called me,” You reminded him.

“Well yeah babe, I know he’s a--”

“A monster,” You finished.

“Yeah, I told you--”

“But, how would you know that?” You asked again.

“What?”

“He’s a prosecutor, Billy. You’re a...whatever it is you are,” You crossed your arms. “So how, do you know him?”

“Because….” You saw the wheels turning in Billy’s head. “Because he and the NYPD set me up!”

“They set you up?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah,” He sniffed and rubbed his nose as the waitress came and took your orders. He eyed her nervously as she wrote down your requests and left the table once more.

“You gonna elaborate?”

“Look right before I met you, I was living in the city,” He sighed, starting his story. “And I was on a harmless jog in Central Park, and these tourist girls got spooked and this bitch detective brought me in, started getting her whole squad zoned in on me for some reason, including your man Barba,”

“Just for no reason?” You gave him a look.

“Yes!” He pounded the table, causing some stares. He took a deep breath, and repeated himself. “Yes, babe,”

“Uh huh,” You nodded as the waitress brought your drinks. It was only lunch but you had ordered a martini, you needed it to get through this.

“Look I thought you said you believed me,” Billy’s eyes narrowed. “...Or was that a bunch of bullshit?”

“N-No,” You suddenly sat straight up, remembering you needed to keep up your act.

“I’m just trying to understand the whole situation, baby boy,” You threw your old nickname at him to diffuse the situation.

“Right…” He licked his lips with a smile as the waitress came and sat the food down in front of each of you.

“Anyway, babe they set up this whole thing. They went on a vendetta against me, I swear to God. They-- they started pulling all these records of me from places I lived, trying to pin me to something, anything. And then their Captain…” He stopped and chuckled, but not his normal chuckle. This was more...sinister, darker.

“She just had this...thing, for me,” He smiled as he remembered her, the “Good times” they had. “She begged me to spend this bender weekend with me and when things didn’t go her way, she tried to say I ‘kidnapped’ her, raped her, did all this nasty stuff to her,”

“....Why would she make that up?” You took a bite of your food. He was just spilling all of this information without you even prying, this seemed too easy.

“Because she’s a BITCH, that’s why!” He suddenly yelled again and pounded the table, more people turned to stare this time before he quickly got himself together once more.

“Billy, I’ve never seen you like this,” Your voice shook as you spoke.

“I’m--I’m sorry, Y/N,” He blinked back tears. “They just...they put me through hell,” He began to show you scars on his face and pointed to his ear. “She...when we went on our little bender, she got so hopped on pills and booze that she beat me within an inch of my life,”

Your hand went over your mouth as you saw his injuries for the first time. You put your other hand and traced the scar, tears in your eyes. He couldn’t have just faked those scars, there was no way for him to know you’d start questioning him like you had.

Maybe...maybe he was telling the truth. You had just taken Rafael at his word, and those articles at theirs. Stories could always be spun, and if it made the NYPD look good, that would make the best story, right?

“Billy…” You wiped his cheek with your thumb, tears were spilling down them. “I am so, so sorry…”

“It’s fine,” He sniffed, wiping snot from his nose as he pulled himself together. “I just...I just want to move on,”

“Yeah…” You nodded, patting his cheek gently with a small smile.

“So, will you let me come home?” He asked you with a sad smile.

“I…” You looked down at the table, mulling everything over. You really, really didn’t want to believe Rafael had been the liar here, just covering up for his best friend.

But...Billy seemed genuine, you had known him so much longer than any of them, maybe you knew him better than they did. You knew he was the wrong guy they should have tried to send away, maybe he was just the victim of their dirty captain. But the whole…”job” aspect, you weren’t sure of. You still didn’t know what he did, and why he had been gone all the time. Rafael’s explanation seemed logical.

“...I’ll think about it,” You looked at him with a small smile.

“You’ll think about it?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Billy, you really hurt me,” You felt tears come to your throat. “You have to know that,”

“I know, babe…” He gave you a sad smile back, taking your hands again. “I get it, I have to earn your trust again,”

“Yes,” You nodded, glad he wasn’t going to press it. He nodded and looked at the table for a moment, then looked up at you with that smile of his.

“...You know, if you want the afternoon off honey, I can pick up the girls,” He offered.

“E-Exucse me?”

“You want to go see Barba, don’t you?” He was now smirking. “You want to verify what I’m saying, right?”

“I...um…”

“Go for it darling, that’s how confident I am you’ll make the right decision,” He encouraged you.

“...Right,” You nodded, downing the rest of your martini. “And if I don’t, you’ll have the girls as leverage,”

“Aww now Y/N…” He kept his smirk, it seemed more evil now when you looked at it. “I won’t need leverage, will I?”

“....No,” You gulped. You didn’t entirely trust him now, but you weren’t about to turn down a chance to see Rafael. Besides, if what he said was true, Billy would never harm the girls.

“Good then, so we’ll see you at home?”

“Sounds good,” You nodded as Billy laid down his card on the check. You got up and headed to the door, dialing Rafael’s number. You remembered that he had said not to contact him first, so you thought you’d do him one better.

-------------

Rafael was in his office putting together his opening argument when you knocked on his office door.

“Come in,” He said nonchalantly, thinking it would be his assistant with a memo.

He glanced up from his desk as the door opened and dropped his pen when he saw you. He blinked a few times, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating as he stood up from his chair and approached you slowly.

“....Y/N? What are you--?”

“Shut up,” You cut him off with your words before catching his lips in yours in a hungry, aggressive kiss.

You didn’t care what Billy had said, or what events led up to right now. You just knew at that moment you needed Rafael. And you took him, no regrets. You two spent several seconds just kissing and drinking each other up, hands roaming all over each other’s bodies.

You’d think you two had been separated for months, not barely 24 hours. But you both had been sure it would be ages, maybe ever before you saw each other again, and like you had said before you’d never been out of each other’s lives for more than a day since the day you met. Fine, maybe you were a little overdramatic.

“What are you doing here, tonta?!” He suddenly broke apart from you and chastised you. “I told you, it’s too--”

“Billy sent me,” You simply said, breathless from the kissing.

“...’Billy’, sent you?” His eyes narrowed. “And why exactly did Billy send you?”

“...We need to talk,” You bit your lip nervously. “But...but I just...I just want us to be us, for a little bit longer,”

“...A little bit longer?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

“Just...please, Rafa?” You begged him, your doe eyes wet with tears. You knew what you were about to have to do, and you just wanted to be happy for a few more minutes.

“...Bueno,” Rafael sighed, before he grabbed you by your waist and carried you over to his couch, before resuming making out with you like two teenagers.

He didn’t like the sound of where this was going, but he knew he wanted to put it off as long as possible. And he had missed you like crazy, even if it had just been 12 hours. He loved you so much, and so fast, it scared him.

You didn't know what you were going to say to Rafael once his tongue was out of your mouth, but right now you didn't care. You just wanted this to go on forever---

And then there was a knock at the door.

[ilikefandom]

Snowy Day Lovers

Request: Can i request Snape x reader fluff? Thank u <3 <3

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Professor (Y/l/n) is married and the golden trio don’t believe that it could possibaly could be Snape.

Pairing(s): Severus Snape x Fem reader

Warnings: A kiss, PDA

The snow was falling and the wind blew sharply in the winter sky. The last quidditch game before the winter break was to begin and the students were preparing for the last set of pre-break tests. Harry and Ron were in the library studying for the potions midterm when Hermione slid into a chair beside them.

The library sat quietly and resolute, as it usually did when exams were close and there were a few fifth years practicing herbology terms. Hermione scanned the library before pulling a stack of parchment out from her bag. It was placed between the three of them and was as thick as a book.

“What’s this rubbish?” Harry asked, holding up the thick booklet. It was as dense as the books that Hermione used for ‘light’ reading and it was as if the author had spilt a blot of ink on the cover.

“A set of mock exams.” Hermione said as she opened up the book to the potions section and began answering the questions on her own parchment.

“Snape doesn’t give mock exams.” Ron commented before copying down the questions. 

The writing was smaller and much neater than the scrawls that Snape wrote on the blackboard. It looped slightly and was written in deep blue ink, rather than the black that Snape used. 

Hermione laughed, “No, he doesn’t, but Professor (Y/l/n) gave it to me. She has copies for end of year and midterm examinations, and for every year.”

“Who’s Professor (Y/l/n)?” Harry asked, his head tilted. He had never heard of her and it seemed obvious that Ron hadn’t either.

“Are you both thick?” Hermione asked looking up from her question sheets. “She teaches us Astronomy. She replaced Professor Sinistra two years ago.” 

Ron looked up at her, “Astronomy? When did Sinistra leave?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Didn’t I just say that she came to the school two years ago?”

Harry shrugged and stretched his arms above his head, “Can you make a copy so that we can study later? Hogsmeade awaits.”

Ron chuckled and Hermione rolled her eyes, “Geminio.” Hermione cast the duplication spell and the book split into two copies.

The trio made their way up to the Gryffindor common room and got dressed to go outside. Hermione hefted the study guide onto her hip and the teens made their way to the astronomy tower, where Professor (Y/l/n) was setting up the telescopes for her class that night.

“Hello Hermione!” She smiled widely, her (Y/e/c) eyes sparkling in the sun. “Do you have my study guide?”

“Here you are professor,” Hermione said, placing the book into the teacher’s hands, “are you going to go to Hogsmeade?”

Professor (Y/l/n) nodded and gave a small smile. “Yes I am, it’s the first date I have been able to go on in awhile. My husband and I have very different work schedules and we thought we would meet up for a butterbeer and a pastry.”

Hermione gave a little squeal and asked, “How far did he have to come to make this work?”

(Y/n) wrapped a green scarf around her neck and made her way to the entrance of the Astronomy tower with the three teens. 

“That is for me to know Ms. Granger, and not for you. Now, I have to know, how are you three liking the new DADA teacher?” She asked the group and they all groaned as Professor (Y/l/n) laughed. “I’d heard she was bad, and a theory only teacher. Delores really has no idea how to interact with teenagers.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Ron whined, crossing his arms over his chest. Causing (Y/n) to start giggling again. 

The group of students continued to air their opinions on Professor Umbridge, all of them negative with no redeeming qualities, when Harry said, “She’s even lower than Snape in my book and that’s saying something!”

Hermione swatted at her friend and Harry sidestepped the blow. 

“You guys don’t like Severus?” Professor (Y/l/n) asked, “I know he’s biased and militaristic in his ways, but he’s not that bad, is he?”

“He teaches us everything we need to know and more,” Hermione interjected, “he just seems to take out his anger on Harry.”

(Y/n) laughed, “Maybe he expects more of you Mr. Potter. The only person that ever scored higher than him in potions was your mother, he might have hoped that you inherited her gift.”

Harry's eyes widened and he stared at the youngest Hogwarts professor in shock. “You knew my mother?” He asked.

(Y/n) nodded, “I knew her in my fifth year, her seventh, she was helping me with the charms portion of OWLs, I sucked at charms, still do as a matter of fact. It was only thanks to her that I passed at all. Speaking of OWLs, are you guys going to be prepared for the exams?”

“Thanks to your package we will.” Hermione stated, to which (Y/n) smiled a bit wider.

“I’m glad it helped. Would you mind if Severus joins us on our way to Hogsmeade? We need one more to fill the coach and he’s waiting at the door.” Professor (Y/l/n) waved at the tall mass of black standing next to the entrance to the castle.

The trio had no time to answer as the potions professor joined them on the journey outside of the castle. (Y/n) quickened her pace to keep up with Snape, and they stood close enough together that their robes touched. 

Harry was surprised when Snape reached out and took Professor (Y/l/n)’s hand helping her into the carriage before climbing in himself. The three fifth years scrambled for the seats opposite to their teachers and all five sat in awkward silence for the duration of the ride to Hogsmeade. As soon as the carriage stopped, the trio jumped out and started walking towards Zonko’s.

(Y/n) giggled, tightening Severus’ old scarf around her neck and grabbing his hand gingerly before tugging him in the opposite direction.

Hermione paused in her spot and turned around to see the two professors walking down the street, hand in hand. She tugged on Ron’s arm and both boys followed her gaze to the couple making their way to the Three Broomsticks.

“Didn’t she say she was meeting her husband?” Ron whispered, his voice hitching.

“She must be cheating on him,” Harry sputtered, “with Snape of all people.” 

“We have to go after them.” Hermione agreed, and all three of them took off.

When Severus and (Y/n) reached the warmth of Rosmerta’s pub, they quickly found a booth and slid into their respective seats, not knowing that the three teens had followed them in.

(Y/n) took Severus’ hand in her own and rubbed the back of it gently, causing the gaunt man to blush and look away. She beamed at him taking out her wand and casting a quick spell over his left hand. The invisibility spell withdrew, revealing the silver ring on his finger.

Snape was quick to hide it in his other hand, his embarrassed face too much for (Y/n). She gave a small laugh and brought her own rings out of invisibility, sliding her left hand into his right. 

After a quick glance around Severus took both of her hands in his and gave a slight smile, while looking into her eyes.

Hermione’s eyes widened, they had misjudged their teachers too quickly and now all three would be stuck watching their potions professor make goo goo eyes at his wife.

Rosmerta stopped by their table and dropped off a fancy looking fruit tart and two butterbeers. “I ordered them ahead of time Sev.” (Y/n) explained as she unwrapped two forks from a napkin. 

‘Sev’ huffed and looked his wife in the face with a smile, “This is nice, but we could be marking the assignments that need marking.”

“Knowing you all of the things that need marking have been marked.”

“Touche.”

The trio could no longer stomach this side of Snape and made their exit, running toward the other shops, in desperate need of mind bleach.

The group was lucky that they had decided to disappear at that moment as a mistletoe plant was dangled over the couple’s head by Minerva and Fillius who were laughing to themselves at the next table. 

Looking up, Severus cupped (Y/n)’s cheek in his sturdy hand and planted a soft kiss to her lips. 

And they stayed like that, under the mistletoe, enjoying a day that seemed made for two snowy day lovers, just like them.

Author’s note: Hey my wonderful readers! I hope you liked this oneshot. Please request new stories and I will get them to you ASAP. Also, please comment your reactions and criticisms, it means the world to me when you do.

[tallstars-rewrite]

About (2.0)

After 3,000 years, we begin. Helloo my name is Yarrow, welcome to my side blog where I talk about my ideas and sometimes art for my personal rewrite of the Warrior Cats super edition “Tallstar’s Revenge”~

Click here for the (now complete!) story here on this blog!! (feel free to send an ask for any tags i may have missed) As well as a link to where it’s posted on Ao3

My Personal blog for warrior cats and other xenofiction posting: Yarrowleef

Search the “my art” tag for all the character art I did over the years (most of it is quite old now)

and now a somewhat lengthy preface:

in 2017 I read Tallstar’s Revenge and was very frustrated by it. So I decided to try out rewriting a warriors book to see if I could make something closer to what I wanted to see. I also did it because I really wanted to finish something, and it seemed like an easy starting point. Then I quickly realized I had no idea how to actually write a story because I usually never get past the “daydreaming and maybe sometimes writing disconnected scenes and concepts” phase, so that was quite a hurdle to overcome.

This fic has been a bit of a rickety lifeboat for me over the past 4 years. Sometimes it even became sort of a vent for my lingering high school angst. I began this project at the same time I graduated high school and was about to start college (a bad idea) and I hit several major periods of burn-out. Honestly, I think I was feeling burned out through at least 75-80% of it. But I needed to focus on something for the same reason I needed to drag myself out of bed every morning, even if I usually didn’t really want to. 

Now I think it’s as finished as it’s ever going to be. I’m not going to lie, my confidence in its quality has been. let’s say Shaky At Best. Taking so long means that some parts are already outdated before they’ve even been posted. Also, several bits (including prose and world building) were not even fully edited to completion. There’s at least one or two chapters that are more summary then full writing, but I don’t think it’s bad enough anywhere to be incomprehensible? soo we’re just gonna roll with it.

My mixed feelings about it aside, the only reason I can have those mixed feelings is because I wrote it in the first place, and thus got better (at least a little). I wouldn’t be where I am now if I hadn’t, so no matter what I am very glad that I managed to make myself finish it!! And there are at least some parts I still genuinely like. In the end, this was always intended to just be a practice story using someone else's outline, so I am simply going to dump this content on the floor as it is and it is up to you to sift through it. I’m ready to let go of this rickety clumsy life boat, so now I am pushing it out to sea.

In Conclusion: Ultimately, is this story truly an “”improvement”” over canon? Who knows! Seriously, I simply cannot tell. I’ve been staring at it too long. “Improvement” is a very heavy and presumptuous word for someone like me anyway. I slowly chipped away at 200,000 words on my own for 4 years with no beta readers to talk it over with (none of my friends rly know what warrior cats is and I'm too embarrassed to show them, so I'm alone in here with my box of angsty cats). My brain is mush and the lines have blurred together. I have no earthly idea what this is going to look like to fresh eyes. In addition to that, many little things were tweaked just because I felt like it and not necessarily because I thought they were “objectively” better. That being said, some characters have been given completely new traits unrelated to who they were in canon to suit the story I wanted to tell, and how a character is portrayed here does not necessarily reflect my opinion/head-canon of their canon counterpart.  

Although my faith in this rewrites execution is iffy and the creation process was a hot mess, I can certainly say I still put a lot of thought and effort (and sometimes tears) into it, and in the end I hope that will count for something. Thank you for reading!