#ah yes just...normal ass Dandy again

[sketchy-tour]

Staring at my hands over the stupidest realization.

I can't do a gender swap au with Dandy. Because Dandy is literally already ambiguous in gender. An au where Wally is a woman would just have Dandy standing there looking exactly the same.

Fjdjfjrk

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze Pt.10/25

Previous

The flat was filled with the melodic sounds of sitar strings, or more accurately, the screeching sounds of sitar strings.

Jaskier still hadn’t gotten the hang of his new baby.

It was a truly beautiful instrument but completely different to his usual stringed instruments. The long neck of the sitar had way more pegs than he used to and he just couldn’t get it to sing like he wanted. He was struggling to play with the microtones that the sitar music was famous for. He would probably have to see if he could find a teacher to help him. That wasn’t going to be easy.

He gently put the instrument back in its case and sat down at his piano instead. His flat wasn’t really big enough to house his baby grand piano but he just hadn’t been able to leave the beautiful instrument behind in the shop. It had called out to him like a siren and he’d been helpless to resist its call.

Of course, he’d probably be able to afford a bigger flat if he managed to stop buying instruments.

He laughed. “But where’s the fun in that?”

His fingers idly pressed the keys without him putting much effort in. He closed his eyes and let the music free from his heart.

School was starting back the next day and he’d been up almost all weekend trying to finish up his lesson plans. He hadn’t meant to leave it to the last minute but time had just gotten away from him and suddenly it was Saturday and he’d not done any work. Luckily coffee and cat naps were his bestest friends in the whole wide world and he’d finally managed to get it all done. Just in time to enjoy his last evening before the kids took over his life once more. His kids were amazing but full of energy and it took a lot out of him to be so switched on all day long. He’d already drafted his email to the parents to send out on Friday evening based on his lesson plans for the week, but he still had Geralt’s left to write.

Not that Geralt received any special treatment or anything.

It was just that he needed to be mindful of Ciri’s special circumstances.

Or at least that was the lie he’d told himself all term.

But at least he still personalised each of the emails a little before sending them out!

And so what he he wrote Geralt handwritten letters more frequently than the other parents.

It wasn’t a crime.

The only crime was Geralt’s ass.

It was to die for.

He groaned and shook his head to try and clear out the thoughts of his love, his fingers slipping on the keys of the piano, but there was really nothing he could do to stop the barrage of Geralt thoughts. Since parents’ evening he’d developed a blooming friendship with Geralt and it was making him feel all sorts of things that he really shouldn’t be feeling if he wanted to keep his job.

They had managed to meet up a few of times over the last half of the school term to discuss Ciri’s progress at school, although Jaskier could count on one hand how many times Ciri’s classwork had actually come up in conversation. Jaskier could never resist flirting with the firefighter which Geralt took in his stride. Although Jaskier wasn’t entirely certain that Geralt even realised he was flirting.

Jaskier was ninety-five percent sure that Geralt was interested in men, and in him specifically. He’d never explicitly said it and there was nothing about their meetings that really screamed anything more than friendship, but every so often Geralt would seemingly flirt back and it floored Jaskier every single time. How was he supposed to handle that? This tall muscular amber-eyed God was actually paying him attention. The small smiles that Geralt gave him made his heart sing, and to the gods when Geralt laughed, he felt his insides turn to mush. Geralt was usually happy to let Jaskier hold most of the conversation, talking about his new instrumental conquests, books he was reading, the beautiful birds he’d seen on the walk to work, but the white-hair man was beginning to open up.

Jaskier had learnt more about Roach, who he’d mistaken for a large dog in Ciri’s drawing. He had, of course teased Geralt over his choice of name but that hadn’t lasted long when Geralt had turned the table on him and asked what Jaskier would call a horse and the only name he could think of was Greg. Geralt offered up a little information about his teammates but notably avoided talking about his childhood. Jaskier couldn’t blame him for that. He had avoided that topic himself.

He knew that Geralt struggled to find time to cook but always made an effort to cook something from scratch with Ciri’s help at least once a week. Their favourite thing to make was pizza, it was also their favourite take-away. He’d learnt that Geralt tended not to watch much tv unless it was with Ciri and the man could tell you far too much about Ciri’s favourite cartoons, which explained his Apple Jack lunchbox. Geralt preferred to read in his free time instead, normally fantasy books, anything with a dragon in. Geralt’s favourite colour was blue which Jaskier adored. He could pretend that the reason was because his eyes were blue. He had filed that information away to fuel several romantic daydreams which ended in a summer wedding.

His fingers began to dance over the keys in a previously unheard melody.

It was beautiful.

“Ah fuck!” He cursed and scrambled to find manuscript paper as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

It was buried in between his lute and his computer. There was barely a spare page in the notebook but he managed to find one in the middle. Once he’d got the melody captured he would copy it over into a fresher, more organised book that held his complete compositions.

He closed his eyes again as he tried to remember precisely what he’d played before but it was missing something. The chords weren’t quite right and it left the piece sounding almost empty and dead.

“Bollocks!”

The moment had passed and his muse had left him.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his recents calls until he found the number he wanted. The phone rang twice before the sweet dulcet tones of his younger cousin sounded in his ears.

“What do you want?” Essi asked wearily.

“Lovely to speak to you too.” Jaskier shot back.

Essi sighed. “I’m working, Dandelion.”

“This late?” He double checked the clock. It was almost nine in the evening but then again she was a professional singer. If she had a gig then it was likely to be later on in the day, and now that he paid more attention he could hear the sounds of a bar in the background of the call.

“Not all of us work nine til five, Dandy.” The old nickname slipped out.

“Essi!” He groaned. “I stopped calling myself Dandelion years ago”

“Says the man that realised an album last spring under the alias of Dandelion.”

“It’s a stage name.” He pouted before he remembered she couldn’t see him.

He heard someone calling her name in the background and she yelled back. He winced as the shout hurt his ears. “I gotta go, did you need something?”

He sighed as he ran his fingers over the keys of his piano without making a sound. He could still hear the notes in his head as he desperately tried to recall the tune he had played before. “I just lost another composition to the cruel winds of time.”

“Who were you thinking about?” She asked and he could picture her easily. One hand on her hip, guitar case slung around her shoulder, long blonde hair falling in front of one of her cornflour blue eyes, eyes they had both inherited from their shared grandfather.

He frowned as he considered her question. “Who said I was thinking about anyone?”

She laughed before shouting again at whoever was trying to get her attention. Jaskier held the phone away from his ear this time. Essi really did have a set of lungs on her. “Dearest cousin. Your first album was all about your failed relationship with Pris. The second album was your failed relationship with Stella, and Valdo’s betrayal by stealing away your true love.”

“Wow. Geez. Thanks Essi. You really know how to build a man up.”

“So what failed relationship is it this time?”

“There is no relationship.” He spat back through gritted teeth, wondering why he even bothered with his cousin sometimes. In many ways she was like his little sister and she never hesitated in telling him exactly what she thought of him.

“Sure, sure. That’s why it’s failed. Look I really have to go. They need me on stage. Don’t be a stranger Dandelion!”

The phone line cut off and Jaskier stared at the phone in his hands.

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he realised she was completely right.

He’d been thinking about Geralt.

He closed the lid of the piano with more force than necessary and moved to sit back down on the sofa. He hadn’t meant to think about Geralt. He’d just been thinking about the work he needed to do for school and his thoughts had drifted to his infatuation on their own accord.

As if reading his thoughts, his phone buzzed signalling he had an email.

From Geralt.

“Oh no. No no no. Can’t do this right now.” He moaned and put his head in his hands, knocking his glasses half off his face. “Can’t I have a moment in peace?!” He asked the ceiling.

It was Sunday. He didn’t have to worry about what to say to Geralt until Friday. That was the rules… unless they had a catch up about Ciri but they hadn’t organised another meeting yet. Yes he missed Geralt desperately but he was aware that that was borderline clingy and he didn’t want to scare the man off, and yet here he was emailing Jaskier out of the blue.

It was probably about the present he’d bought Geralt. It wasn’t much, just a voucher for one of the outdoor activity shops in town and a poem he’d written about Roach.

It was terrible.

He hated it.

“Oh fuck off.” Jaskier groaned at his own thoughts and clicked on the email.

 Jaskier,

 Sorry for bothering you. I know you’re busy.

 I wanted to say thank you for my present. I read Roach the poem. She was very impressed.

Jaskier grabbed a pillow from his sofa and hugged it tightly as he continued to read, feeling very proud of himself.

 I am sorry I didn’t think to get you anything from me but hopefully you liked Ciri’s gift.

He had. Ciri had bought him a brand new travel mug. It was covered in music notes just like his mug from the staffroom at school. There had also been a little photo of Roach tucked into the card because Jaskier hadn’t stopped asking Geralt about her.

 I need to ask you something. It would probably be better in person or over the phone. I’m not good at emails.

 - Geralt.

Jaskier re read the last paragraph twice before hitting the reply button.

He sent Geralt his number before he could change his mind and then threw his phone onto the sofa. The phone barely managed to bounce on the cushions before it started ringing and Jaskier lunged to pick it up.

He clicked to accept the call and all at once he felt lighter than he had in weeks.

“Geralt!” He cried happily. “Hi!”

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s gruff voice answered. Jaskier felt like he’d turned to goo. The way Geralt said his name never failed to make him feel weak at the knees.

Pull yourself together Jaskier! He chided at himself.

“So, my dear, what was it that you wanted to ask me?” He kept his voice light like his fingers on his lute strings, not betraying the way his heart thundered in his chest.

Geralt grunted on the other end of the line and Jaskier rolled his eyes and smiled. How was it that he even missed Geralt’s ineloquent grunts?

“It’s not a stupid question, Geralt.” He replied. “If you don’t know something then you should ask.”

“I’m not one of your kids, Jaskier.” Geralt huffed.

He laughed at that and put the phone on speaker. His fingers were itching to move and he was getting restless not being able to play whilst holding the phone.

“Yes yes. I know that.” He hummed as he let his fingers trail across the many different instrument cases that were stacked up against the wall. They landed on his lute, an instrument long forgotten to many but one that remained so dear to him. He’d originally started to play the lute because it was different and he liked to stand out. Every musician in the folk scene played guitar or violin or piano.

He didn’t want to be like every other musician.

He wanted to be the best.

So he’d pick up the lute and never looked back. It was an expensive and delicate instrument so he tended not to bring it into school that often but he often found himself playing it at home.

It was also a reminder as to why he’d begun teaching full time. At first he’d only taught guitar and piano whilst he was at university in Oxenfurt to help finance his music career and pay for his rent after he had had a disagreement with his parents. The lute was the first instrument he’d bought for himself after the argument, to celebrate having enough students to finally make it through the month without begging his friends for cash and managing to save for the first time.

Soon after he realised how much he really enjoyed teaching and after graduating with a degree in music, he went on to study teaching. He’d worked as a teaching assistant in Oxenfurt before moving to Upper Posada where he finally had his own class, the Buttercups.

“Have you put me on speaker?” Geralt asked.

“Don’t you have sharp ears?” Jaskier teased his friend, he was sure they were friends. “It’s just me here, I just needed my hands.”

“You needed your hands.” Geralt replied and Jaskier could practically hear the smirk in his tone.

“Not like that!” He cried. “Honestly, Geralt, is that really what you think of me?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to grab my lute.”

Geralt laughed. “Is that what they call it these days?”

“Geralt Rivia!” Jaskier exclaimed.

Geralt just laughed in response. It was infectious and soon enough Jaskier was laughing along. Once they’d calmed down he began to strum the strings of his beloved instrument gently, fiddling with the pegs to make sure it was in tune.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject, Geralt.” Jaskier spoke softly as Geralt’s laughter faded away.

“Right.”

“Geralt!” He all but whined. “You said you needed to ask me something. Come on! The suspense is killing me.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll finally get some peace.”

“Now hang on!” Jaskier gasped in offence. “You rang me!”

“Regretting it already.”

“I’ll hang up!” Jaskier warned.

“No. You won’t.”

Jaskier sighed. “No. I won’t, but honestly Geralt. Is something wrong? Not that I’m not delighted to be talking to you, but…”

“But you’re Ciri’s teacher.” Geralt finished.

“Yes.”

It was a topic that had come up a few times. They weren’t doing anything wrong exactly. The friendship that had sparked up between them came as natural as breathing. They argued as if they’d known each other their whole lives, an easy banter that was unpracticed and yet almost flawless. Jaskier was fighting his attraction to Geralt the whole time, and he was sure the other man was doing the same with him but there was still this cloud looming over them. The line between professional and appropriate behaviour between parent and teacher.

He knew teachers and parents had hooked up before. It was scandalous and often the topic of vicious rumours in the staffroom. If it was reported to the headmaster and proven those teachers got in a lot of trouble, some of them were often asked to resign. Jaskier knew his professional relationship with Stregobor was rocky at best. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

But he was falling in love with Geralt, hard and fast.

It had moved beyond infatuation the moment he’d sat in the fire engine and they’d began to talk. The more he learnt about the man, the more he fell in love. Geralt was a complex man. He struggled to express himself and he constantly worried about being a good father to Ciri, but he was kind and loyal to his family. He had a surprisingly quick tongue that never failed to make Jaskier cackle. He wasn’t a pushover either, he was strong-willed and relentless in sticking to his own morals.

His determination to be a good man made Jaskier feel all fuzzy inside.

This strong and handsome man was just a gentle giant, one that could absolutely kill him given the chance, but there was just something about Geralt that made Jaskier trust him.

It was probably those eyes.

He adored Geralt’s eyes.

They were so unusual, like swirling pools of amber brought to life by bright beams of dazzling sunlight.

And that was why it was so important that their calls and meetings had to remain professional.

Without the guise of Ciri or work then their friendship was ruined. Jaskier would fall head over heels in love with Geralt and then…

and then…

He’d have to break it off.

He couldn’t risk it.

Even if there was a chance that Geralt fancied him back.

So he constantly reminded himself that they were friends and managed to frame every meeting or conversation they had as a work based thing. It was imperative that he didn’t forget that.

Friends only, and even then he really should be careful. Tissaia was right. Stregobor was just looking for an excuse to get rid of him and if he was shown to be favouring Geralt ,and in turn Ciri, too much then he might as well start looking for a new job.

He closed his eyes and mentally chastised himself for being a fool.

“So talk to me Geralt.” Jaskier pleaded. “What did you need? Did Ciri say something?”

Geralt just grunted again.

“I told you it’s not stupid.” Jaskier sighed. “It was obviously important to you.”

“It’s for Ciri.” Geralt stated bluntly. All traces of their easy laughter was now gone from his voice.

“Good. I am her teacher, what does she need? Did she say something?” Jaskier’s mind instantly recalled every interaction he’d had with the young ashen-haired girl over the last few days, looking for moments where he might have upset her or said something wrong. He couldn’t think of anything but he could have easily misread the situation.

“We went to Lambert’s for Solstice.” Geralt added.

Jaskier frowned trying to follow Geralt’s train of thought and failing. He stayed silent, waiting for Geralt to find the right words.

“He likes this band and Ciri just started screaming.”

Jaskier felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.

A band.

It wouldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

Barely anyone even listened to his band. They barely had a thousand views online for their most popular song.

“She swears to the gods it’s you, Jask.” Geralt finished.

Jask.

It wasn’t the first time Geralt had called him that. He hated it. It made his heart do weird things in his chest that was not appropriate when talking to a friend.

He took a page out of Geralt’s book and hummed noncommittally. “Right.”

“And then Lambert pointed out Ciri’s Ukulele teacher is called Priscilla just like Dandelion’s bandmate. I thought it was all just a coincidence, but then I realised, Jaskier, Buttercups.” Geralt added, sounding weary. “Dandelions. All flowers.”

“Ah.”

“Jaskier?”

His fingers stilled on the lute strings. He pressed down with the palm of his hand to dampen the resonating sound. “It’s, well, it’s sort of a hobby?”

“You’re Dandelion?” Geralt stammered.

“Hello?” He tried to joke. “Nice to meet you.”

“Fuck.” Geralt swore loudly. “We all told Ciri she was wrong.”

“And now you’ll have to tell her she was right. That’s embarrassing for you.”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

Jaskier scowled. “Hey! None of that grumpy firefighter stuff. It’s not my fault you didn’t trust your daughter!”

Geralt growled and hung up the phone.

Jaskier gaped at the blank screen.

“Oh no you don’t!” He rang Geralt straight back and to his surprise, he actually picked up.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier said before Geralt could say anything. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Hmm.”

“Well. I did mean that’s it not my fault and I don’t know why you’re cross that I have a band, but I shouldn’t have said that about Ciri.” He rambled on.

Geralt still didn’t answer. Jaskier had to check the screen to make sure he was still on the line, quickly putting it back onto speaker. “So I’m sorry. I can explain to her tomorrow at school, about the band. Although, you really should be able to admit your mistakes. I know it’s not always easy.”

“Hold on.” Geralt said and then was a thud. Jaskier assumed that was Geralt putting the phone down. He could hear footsteps and the sound of a door opening. He held his breath whilst Geralt did whatever Geralt needed to do.

He picked his lute back up again and began to play. The notes flowed easily this time, the same tune as before. He grinned and scribbled the notes down onto the coffee stained page of manuscript. He got so caught up in the music he didn’t hear Geralt enter the room on the other side of the line, and this time he wasn’t alone.

“Mr Jaskier?” Ciri sounded exhausted. Geralt had probably just woken her up given the time.

Jaskier blushed and thanked Freya that the young girl couldn’t see him.

Ciri wasn’t supposed to know they’d been talking more outside of school in case she got confused or the wrong idea. Why was Geralt involving her?

Unless the wrong idea… was the right idea?

He swallowed nervously.

“Hello Buttercup!” He put on his best teacher voice, smiling brightly even though she couldn’t see him.

“Dad said you needed to tell me something. That it couldn’t wait.” Ciri asked in a small voice. “Did I do something wrong, Mr Jaskier?”

“Of course not Ciri!” Jaskier reassured her. “Geralt just wanted to ask me about the band your Uncle Lambert likes.”

“In the middle of the night?�� Ciri groaned.

“Well…” Jaskier searched for a good explanation.

“It’s not as late for adults.” Geralt suggested.

Which wasn’t entirely true. Jaskier had to be up early for work and he was exhausted from his late night the day before. Geralt would have to up early too to get Ciri to school on time. They both needed to get to bed soon but there wasn’t a better explanation.

“Hmm.” Ciri hummed starting to pick up on some of Geralt’s mannerisms.

“Your father said you thought that Dandelion sounded like me?” Jaskier asked cautiously.

Ciri gasped and squealed excitably. “It sounded exactly like you Mr Jaskier! But everyone else said it was impossible and then Dad said my guitar teacher was called Priscilla and Uncle Lambert said a naughty word and apparently you are Dandelion, which I already knew because I’d already told them it was you and then Dad said a naughty word!”

Jaskier chuckled. “I am, indeed, Dandelion.”

“Of course you are!” Ciri answered completely certain in her assessment.

“But I need you to keep that quiet. Have you told any of your friends yet?” Jaskier asked.

“You have to speak, Ciri, he can’t see you.” Geralt answered softly.

“Nope.”

Jaskier sighed in relief, his band wasn’t exactly child friendly and he didn’t want it getting out that he’d inadvertently taught his whole class how to swear like a sailor. “Can you keep it to yourself, Ciri?”

“Yes, but why?” Ciri asked.

Jaskier ran his hand through his hair as he tried to think of a good way to explain. “Umm….”

“The band is something Mr Jaskier does outside of school. It’s good to keep work and play separate, Princess.” Geralt answered for him.

“Will you still play for us?” Ciri asked.

Jaskier laughed. “Of course I will, Ciri. It wouldn’t be Buttercups without song time!”

Ciri seemed to consider that. “Good. Dara likes it. Everyone else assumes he can’t listen to music but he can. Dara said he can hear it through the vibe…vibe—”

“Vibrations?” Jaskier suggested.

“Vibrations!” Ciri agreed “and he can still understand the words. He likes that you don’t treat him differently.”

Jaskier almost sobbed. That was probably one of the sweetest things his kids had ever said to him.

“I’m tired now. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight Mr Jaskier, Goodnight Dad!” He heard Ciri’s footsteps patter away.

“Fuck me.” Jaskier sighed and Geralt chuckled. “She’s a good kid.”

“The best.” Geralt agreed. “I should go too.”

“No hanging up this time?” Jaskier teased.

Geralt hummed in response.

“Goodnight, Geralt. Sleep well.”

“Night, Jaskier.”

Jaskier hit the end call button, his hands shaking in his lap.

“Fuck me…” He repeated under his breath and rubbed his eyes, smearing his glasses.

Geralt Rivia was going to be the death of him, and he would die happy.

______

Next

[bonsaiiiiiii]

100 Weird AU's? Yes.

So, I had these AU prompts on my phone for quite a while, and I was actually thinking about using them. And what better way to do it than using them with the Tracy's?

Reading and reading these prompts again (and under the gentle guidance of @willow-salix ) I thought that these prompts doesn't exactly match the brothers' everyday situation, but what if we push it past its limit? Yes, biting more that you can chew can be a little difficult, but I don't think it will be impossible. And that's where this challenge is born!

Get the Tracy's out of International Rescue's bubble and let them live an everyday situation as normal people! They can also be medieval nobles or even futuristic robots, the choice's up to you! You can choose from soo many things others don't even think about (and not even me, for a while)!

Many thanks to @tag2060 for the cover and @willow-salix for the support (both emotional and 'fic-ical'. I love both of you💚

NOTE: THESE PROMPTS AREN'T ALL MINE. I TOOK THEM FROM A GIRL I'M NOT IN CONTACT WITH ANYMORE, BUT I WAS TOLD I COULD USE THEM. ALL CREDITS FOR THESE AU'S GO TO HER, WHATEVER IS HER NAME (lmao). THE GOLD MARKED ONES (7, 11, 20, 23, 39, 47, 63, 64, 70, 83, 89, 91, 93, 96, 100) ARE ALL MINE, IN SUBSITUTION OF A FEW THAT WERE THERE, SO CREDIT FOR THE GOLDEN MARKED ONES GOES TO ME, BUT NOT EVERY ONE OF THEM.

NOTE²: SOME OF THE PROMPTS CONTAIN STRONG THEMES, LIKE DEPRESSION AND SEXUAL CONTENT. IF YOU'RE SENSIBLE TO THESE THEMES, DON'T DO THEM, NOBODY FORCES YOU IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

To participate in this challenge, all you have to do is take one of the AU prompts from the list, one or more (or all) Tracy characters, and post your fic (can be a ficlet, or a series) under the tag #100weirdTracys and #100weirdAUs.

If you don't want to participate, please don't harass/bully me. I made this challenge just for fun, and I don't want for it to feel like something bad. In fact, I don't even regret doing this thing, even if it's strange.

Ah, I almost forgot: this challenge will be over in December, so you have 4 months to choose a prompt and make a fic about it. On December I'll review all the fics, but I'll always be reblogging and reading during these 4 months lol.

If you want to tell me something, hit me up on DM's! I hope you have fun with those prompts and those bois!

(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ

TO RESUME:

• Swearing is allowed.

• You can write as many words as you want!

• Oc's and muses can pop in too!

• Make sure to tag your fic(s) under the '#100weirdTracys' and '#100weirdAUs' tags, so that I can find them easily.

• Always tag or contact me if you need help with anything! I'll be more than glad to help you!

• If you decide to do the mature prompts (19, 90, just to state an example) please refrain from using a too mature language and don't go further than making up. I don't like that kind of language, so it would be peachy to just avoid writing so they make wild sex behind a bush. Any kind of very mature fic or language won't be read by me, I'm sorry. You can still use those prompts, but don't work their bed life too much.

• Any dialect or first language apart from english is more than welcome in this yard! I would love even to read snippets of foreign language in fics, as long as there's a translation near it, but you're not forced to write in another language. If you don't feel comfortable doing it just don't do it, even if I'm telling you. (For the record, I love Irish so much I could listen to a person speaking this language for hours and you won't hear me complaining).

• I will accept this challenge in whatever form it takes, be it a fic, a drawing, a song, etc. I’m open to anything and I watch everything that comes before me!

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

That said, you can find the prompts down here:⬇️

 #1 I saved you from drowning!AU

#2 I broke into your house at two in the morning because I was drunk and I thought it was my house!AU

#3 I am a door-to-door seller please buy something!AU

#4 I grabbed the wrong luggage at the airport!AU

#5 I know we hate each other, but a wedding would be more convenient for both of us!AU

#6 I accidentally poured you a love potion!AU

#7 I sent you 12 messages but you left me on read!AU

#8 I am your secret admirer and I leave you anonymous cards!AU

#9 Sorry, but I was first in line!AU

#10 We don’t know each other but let's pretend to be together because someone is bothering me!AU

#11 We pack up to do a funny trip but we end up in Bolivia without fuel!AU

#12 Locked in quarantine and we're bored! AU

#13 I do everything to find out the identity of this superhero and you try to mislead me because it’s really you!AU

#14 I got into a taxi just to find out it was already occupied!AU

#15 I called the wrong number!AU

#16 I got into the wrong car OMG I'm ashamed, but while you’re there why don’t you give me a ride!AU

#17 I found a wallet and my business is to find the owner and return it!AU

#18 I am a street artist and you complain that I play in front of your house at night!AU

#19 I caught you watching porn!AU

#20 We're two strangers that start chatting while waiting for the bus!AU

#21 Nosy and sloppy roommates!AU

#22 Old childhood friends who come back after years!AU

#23 I got shot to the arm/leg but you're there to save me and OMG ILY!AU

#24 We’re sitting next to each other on a plane and please don’t throw up on me!AU

#25 We accidentally switched phones!AU

#26 We are both contestants in a reality show and let's pretend to be together because the audience will ship us!AU

#27 I am a wedding planner and my ex’s wedding had to happen to me!AU

#28 I learned sign language to communicate with you!AU

#29 Professional model and novice photographer!AU

#30 Sorry I ran you over!AU

#31 We make out and then I find out that you are my roommate’s boyfriend!AU

#32 I’m quoting aloud the last book of a series and I’m spoiling you!AU

#33 It is a universally acknowledged truth that a bachelor with a large fortune must be looking for a wife!AU

#34 I am a Partisan and you are a fascist!AU(Italy during World War II!AU)

#35 I am the blood of the dragon!AU (Iron Throne!AU)

#36 Your dog is hitting on mine!AU

#37 I’m depressed and I decide to call a hotline!AU

#38 You are my soulmate but I am in love with someone else!AU

#39 Strange encounter at tattoo shop!AU

#40 On my mark, unleash hell!AU(Roman Empire!AU)

#41 I am an Elf, don’t look at me for ears I am ashamed of!AU(The Lord of the Rings!AU)

#42 Maybe my life should be more than just survival!AU(The 100!AU)

#43 I am an activist and I am trying to convert you to the cause!AU

#44 We are occupying the school but you are a spoilsport!AU

#45 All our friends are drunk and we're not!AU

#46 We’ve been together for three months and now you’re telling me you’re a werewolf!AU

#47 X has to go into a rocket to the moon and Y has to train X!

#48 Knight in shining armor and damsel in distress!AU

#49 We reluctantly team up against the zombie apocalypse!AU

#50 I’m a vampire and your smell is driving me nuts!AU(Twilight!AU)

#51 Monsters have attacked the Earth and the only way to save humanity is aboard giant robots piloted by two people who must maintain a mental union!AU(Pacific Rim!AU)

#52 My timer stopped as soon as I saw you!AU(Soulmate!AU)

#53 I need a lawyer and you are the best!AU

#54 I’m a Viking and I plundered your ship!AU

#55 I’m a classic dandy from the Regency Age and you’re just a silly girl from the lower middle class!AU

#56 I’m a policeman and you’re an intrusive journalist and I really shouldn’t give you any information about the new murder!AU

#57 You are a wannabe actress and I am a theatrical director who is losing patience and health!AU

#58 Due to a computer error, X and Y become college roommates!AU

#59 X wants to see the world of Y, how he lives and what he usually does, and ends up spending a night in prison!AU

#60 I attend the yoga course just to watch how flexible the instructor is!AU

#61 I am a bounty hunter and you are my prey!AU

#62 I am a secret spy and pretend to be your friend only to get information about your father!AU

#63 I discuss with you about a thing but you have in mind another!AU

#64 We are forced to be best friends just because our moms were best friends too but you're too bossy for me!AU

#65 We broke up but I never changed emergency contacts and now I’m in the hospital and they called you!AU

#66 I am an angel and you are a demon!AU

#67 I hit you on the balls during a game of paintball and oh my god I am so sorry!AU

#68 We live in a dystopian world where your partner is chosen by society!AU(Matched!AU)

#69 I’m a dragon trainer I’ll prove to you that they are peaceful creatures!AU(Dragon Trainer!AU)

#70 Date at japanese restaurant!AU

#71 You’re a cheerleader and I’m a punk and we live in two different worlds!AU

#72 I was a zombie and I was "re-animated" but you treat me like I’m still a monster!AU(In the Flesh!AU)

#73 I am your son’s teacher and I am calling to talk to you about his conduct, would he also come to dinner with me!AU

#74 I am an Achaean warrior and you Trojan and we are fighting the Trojan War!AU

#75 I met my asshole boss at the bar but I found out he’s pretty cool!AU

#76 It was not my intention to touch your ass, it’s just that the bus is crowded, it’s not my fault ok!AU

#77 I went fishing and accidentally fished a mermaid!AU

#78 I just committed a crime and I need to use you as a hostage!AU

#79 You’re the bastard who always parks in front of my door and in spite I’ll scratch your car!AU

#80 I accidentally went back in time and fell in love with you, too bad you’re a barbarian!AU

#81 I urgently need you to fix my computer but please don’t judge me for my chronology!AU

#82 I work on the cruise ship where you are spending your holidays!AU

#83 I'm out in the rainstorm without an umbrella because the weather forecast was sunny!AU

#84 I hugged the wrong person from behind!AU

#85 Celebrity on the run and ordinary citizen confused!AU

#86 Stuck in a ranch cleaning horse poop but it doesn’t matter because that cowboy is a badass!AU

#87 We got married in Vegas, but we’re total strangers!AU

#88 But, officer, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was just smoking a joint, want a hit!AU

#89 X is an astronaut and Y is a weird but funny alien that likes to scream, overreact and laugh!AU

#90 I slept with you for a bet but I loved it and I’d like to keep seeing you!AU

#91 I reveal to some friends that you wear boxers/underwear with green aliens on them but you're behind me and oh gosh total shame!AU

#92 Oops I accidentally entered a busy dressing room!AU

#93 You're a stranger but I keep crossing paths with you and I'm kinda confused right now!AU

#94 X is a medium and Y a ghost!AU

#95 X is a guardian angel and Y wants to die!AU

#96 X accidentally enters in a cat and Y has to rescue it from up a tree!AU

#97 X risks losing the house because Y’s company wants to buy the land!AU

#98 I’m an artist and I need a model do you want to pose for me!AU

#99 I’m not really sick but the new doctor is so beautiful that I found out I have a disease with an unpronounceable name!AU

#100 A strange job application!AU

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

If you find them more practical, I also have some photos down here with all the prompts organized:⬇️

That said, enjoy! Hope it brings you joy and makes you happy while you do it!💙💚🧡💛❤💜💖🖤

[vanityloves]

anyways im gonna listen to/read the fuckin...rise of the ogre shit bc ive been putting it off 🪓🥴 im gonna put stuff under the cut bc im gonna be TALKING n dont wanna make a new post everytime

piss

ok he performed for 2 pounds 50. which is basically $3 today i- well it was absolutely a power play on his father behalf that also had the promise of money so.

also lol he said Rejection fueled my ambitions which, yknow,, i already knew but it still hurts and i will continue to talk ab it xoxo

AH HELP. "...if ebay had been invented at the time he would've sold me online there and then,"

"man hands on misery to man, yknow"

THEN PROCEEDS TO CONNECT IT TO MUSIC/HIS CAREER. this man said :) the one thing i truly have a passion for. the one thing i fucking like.

oh yeah. bullied by students AND teachers.

oh god hes 42ish during this interview? ok.

the fuckin school bully saying he wouldve acted differently if he knew what hed become

getting called "faceache", then proceeds to call 2d that. jfc he really does just repeat what everyone says. really "treating others how i was treated/how they treat me"

maybe thats why? hes kinder to fans? bc :] you support me and like me so, ok ill return that energy

MURDOC GETTING HIS ASS BEAT N PARADING HOME LIKE WELL I WON BC 'I PISSED YOU OFF' SJDJD

a real rowdy boy. absolute nasty boy. fraud and arson... shooting ppls windows with his air pistols

black sabbath being a huge inspiration? fucking absolutely.

became a satanist n shit at age 16? "it fitted me like a glove" "heavy metal and devil worshipping became my favorite past times" ajsj funny that ppl in trying times often seek religion or following of some sort

heavy metal being his favorite, n loving the clash, while hannibals was more punk based

hannibal breaking murdocs nose for the 2nd and 3rd time for playing his music on hannibals turntable

he doesnt sound that bitter? ab hannibal? he doesnt sound incredibly fond but he talks ab how he got him into a lot of music. so, i imagine they we're a bit closer than i thought?

international baccalaureate in antisocial? anthropology?

MURDOC IS ACTUALLY SMART HE WAS JUST. NOT INTERESTED IN THE SUBJECTS? I GUESS? (also,,, he literally Built cyborg noodle and i think he had a PhD too lol. but its always nice to hear hes actually...yknow, interested or good at other things)

alright but murdoc having a fascination w/ other cultures - or at least some interests, that lead him to actually study the damn subject and "pass with flying colors"

'fuck college though. im gonna be a rockstar'

he sold his soul at 18ish? whenever the fuck he got kicked out but college was mentioned so my brain goes to 18ish idk

he lived with his father still and paid rent via low paying jobs one including 'part time dressing as santa'

help he was ab to take a Personal Job for quick cash and uhh well, "still made me call him sir though" he really said 20 dollars is 20 dollars, huh "that story was totally true"

alright, 1997,,,

2d stuff

loves zombie stuff? thats really cute, and is freaked out by the way they move. god he rambles

both he and murdoc are horses in the chinese zodiac

[[jfc ok if the official shit compares them a lot i understand why ppl ship them but Dont. its a narrative foil and that doesnt always mean Romance jfc.]]

SUMTHINK.

truly... a lil stinker. super cute bouncing baby and a "bit thick" which is stull so endearing to me. hes just a happy man!

excitable 10 year old and would dance around his room

jfc the fact he has normal/caring parents. i kinda forget how opposite hes supposed to be from murdoc but i think thats another thing jsjsysg (murdoc said why isnt my tragic story making me famous why does he get to be the Star. no wonder he acts like a loon)

i still dont get how gettin bonked by a tree branch made him go bald and also turn his hair blue

big tiddy nurse mommy,,,

went to the same school as The Cure and got decent grades despite hittin the noggin quite hard. WANTED TO BE A STORM CHASER... OMG??

oh thats really cute, hed bond with his dad by building keyboards toegther 🥺💕

messed around with paints and graffiti? artistic king

MURDOC AGAIN: QHDJ 'VILLANOUS' GANG HELP

oh yeah d day...new instruments, new band, new singer - and 'had to be the best or no dice' and absolutely CONFIDENT that his songs were bangers ajsjd

but on that same note, had absolute faith (or desperate) in 2d which i love

ransacked the fucking music shop jdjdj and 2d said he was Just Standing There behind the counter the whole shift hdhdh

"thats when your eye came out, yeah" "yeah!-" HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND SO HAPPY AB IT ?? yes he said ut hurt but he sounds...ok

jfc murdoc ragdolling this poor mf around. dunking him and slapping him around. actually? so incredibly terrible and abusive and i hate him for that 🔫 im sorry 2d stans. we dont condone that behavior here ong.

how and why the FUCK did 2d's parents allow that fucker near their child after that i??? help. wtf. his moms a nurse why didnt she just have murdoc sit in plain view of other people. god damn.

2d flying out the window n hitting the curb "whoops"

"just two black holes...[ah] it looked great...a blue hair, blacked eyed GOD- the girls would go wild-" "pretty boy looks" ???? HELP. HE DOESNT GO LIGHT ON THE COMPLIMENTS, HUH

RUSS TIME

oh yeah, he straight up kiddnapped this man help. idk how he managed that, russ is a Big Man??

AND MURDOCS MUSIC WAS SO FUCKING SEXY GOOD that russel said hm alright ill stay, :] out ifbhis owm free will im screaming.

"oh this is one of them febreeze commercials" "uh . yeah sure. *murdoc turning on his Sick Tunes*" but that either means? it was just his guitar playing the convinced russ? unless he and 2d recorded sumn?

"2d was the looks, murdoc the brains, then russel truly was the heart"

'while 2d and murdoc liked music, this man was a MUSICIAN' god fucking bless this book holy shit ny man russ getting some respect. he said back hurts from carrying this band.

murdoc basically heard this guy had big trauma that gave him So Many Skills n said "thats what i want" ok idk thats actually really? inch rest ting to me. seems that murdocs fine handing out compliments but i guess that where his charisma really helps out yeah?

"he was going to be in my band whether he liked it or not" ...murdoc-

HELP. 2D IS LIKE BRO GO ON IM LISTENING 🥺 despite hearing the story 50-60 times and murdoc said fuck off you lil shit.

ok irrelevant but i love his voice! its super comforting n nice to listen to 🥺

HELP MURDOCS SO BITTER. "NOTHING THAT HAPPENS TO US IS NORMAL" WELL YEAH. THIS IS TRAUMA CENTRAL.

idk how/why he sucked up all his friends souls though ... how are they all possessing the same person. they said "its my turn on The Russ"

DELL IS HIS ACTUAL, LITERAL SOULMATE...KING...😭

went to a private school,,, and was already possessed? and the thing where he gets bigger and smaller is a reoccurring thing?

was in a coma for 4 years?

hiphop machine...time and history...the ultimate set i guess.

his knowledge was infinite and hes a "Renaissance man" hes so fucking smart our king. jack of all trades but a master of drums. he said i know im good and what of it

PAULA.

HELP. HE RMBRS THE STALL: CUBICAL NUMBER 3 🥴 IF I DO RECALL 🤤

yes russel our king. fuck up his nose 5 more times. probably stunted his growth too. he shrunk after russ gave him a wallop im sure

why dies paula sound like tracer overwatch

also only dated 2d for 2 months before joining the band?

HELP SHE REALLY WAS THE FIRST MURDOC FUCKER: "but when i saw murdoc with his thick greasy hair, green teeth and yellow skin i thought 'oh this is the ine for me!'" "OH HES SUCH A DANDY-" HELP ME IM HQJDHD

sick in the head...like i want to hurt people help girl. shes fucking Crazy. but she rly said damn i didnt hear back from him again 😭 and my purse is gone JSHHD

MURDOC: SHE WAS DEPRESSINGLY UGLY *still fucked her*

NOODLE TIME

"small japanese person!"

2d: we werent gorillaz until noodle arrived!

im dying the reason he chose gorillaz. 'swinging through the jungle baring my ass'

noodle really said "im just happy to be here" and she balanced everyone out 😭 "she gave off pure love and the fact that she could laugh at murdoc REALLY helped too" RUSS... IS BABY

JFC MURDOCS SO FUCKING CONFIDENT IN THIS BAND IM LIVING FOR THAT. HE SAID YOU WANT US SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID. THE CHARISMA

2d rambling ab some girl he met and "ssSs" "whats the s stand for hawhaw" "i dont know!".

THE RECORD LABEL GUY.

one song is all it took i ❤ good for them

just murdoc talking ab the party that they threw for thier deal and saying "you dont know how much of a dick i felt like [when carrying one of those huge checks]" like oh thats whatll make you a dick? alright.

A FOOD FIGHT THAT WENT SO HARD THAT IT KNOCKED 2DS TONSILS OUT? WHAT THE FUCK

ahshdj damon and murdoc not getting along bc of Rival Band One Uppery + damon calling murdocs cuban heels crap since ge wore steel ones with gold spurs.

MURDOC FEELIN EMBARRASSED BC HES 'QUITE PROUD OF HIS SHOES'

but the band and damon getting over music and their ambitions and became a "paternal figure"

HELP MURDOC SAID AWIOGA @ RACHEL WHICH MADE HER THROW HER DRINK IN HIS FACE AND SPLIT FROM 2D. kinda sad actually, she said i still like 2d but murdoc kinda ruined it by trying to get it in with me, it put a strain in our relationship :/ oh god murdocs That Dude

nov 31 1998: started recording :]

40 tracks that got cut down to 15 holy shit

KONG STUDIOS 🤲

hooking up cameras in every room ejdjsu

webby artist of the year in 2006? holy shit

noodle learning ab kong studios omfg

JFC. YES I KNEW KONG WAS BUILT ON/IN A CEMETERY BUT I DIDNT KNOW PPL FOR THE FUCKING PLAGUE WHERE THROWN THERE HDJD

built in 1739?

the ghost of the first owners ghost still roams around in the kitchen in the early hours and moans 'aaa glass of water'

theres some rotting bullshit near the studios and in the summer its fucking TERRIBLE

the former owners were a biker gang, and they all died in a fire

murdoc said this place has bad vibes. i want it.

grim weather

the building feels impossible to escape from huHgg

[whatthefuuuuuuccckkkk]

okay this is my last post I know I'm being very annoying and I hate to clog the tag but I just have to scream into the void for a while if you disagree or you're annoyed with me please just scroll past this rant thank you

- the hitman plot. god. we all hate that shit. what I realllllly hate is how long and drawn out it is. should've been one episode tops, like when dean tried it. I want to say, that obviously it's not gonna work bcz it would be stupid to kill off the character carrying the entire show, but at this point maybe they are gonna kill him off??? idfk. maybe it's a punishment for all the people (everyone) who like him. truthfully the whole "murder is our only way out of this" attitude is disappointing and seemingly out of character for all of the girls. Boomer attacked annie and they let him fuckin live. They knew he was a fuckin rapist piece of shit, and a regular piece of shit too, but couldn't kill someone. But apparently killing someone beth, at one point, felt some typa way about...smh..apparently that is A ok and they don't even explore other options or feel the least bit guilty?? even when they "mourned" boomer it was more about marion than him. But rio and his whole ass innocent child are not a thought at all??? Wild. Truly. Also....what do they think will happen?? If I were a gang leader's right hand the first person I would check upon seeing my boss get murdered would probably be the person who tried to murder him last time lmao. Do they really think they would get away with it? Even if they didnt get caught, they wouldnt be off the hook. Surely mick would just keep things going, with even less leeway. And what happens when their illegal activities bite them in the ass when Rio is gone? Who are they gonna blame everything on? Who is gonna clean up their mess? No one. And this whole "I'm not doing it, wait yes I am, wait no I'm not, wait I'm gonna do it" thing the hitman is doing is...not it. I'm assuming were gonna get an explanation about how he knew that this was a crime of passion (lol)

-beth beth beth......you know there is a theory floating around that she has serious ptsd and I actually would love to see that explored but that shit ain't happening lol. I'm tired of feeling like I'm analyzing her character. At what point is it too much. She's hard to read but I think it has crossed the line over complex and ventured into poor characterization. She's gotten chances and chances and I'm tired. And dean. God I'm tired. I feel like all season I've been watching beth do the same thing, play good wifey, risk her (and Annie's and Ruby's) life by doing stupid shit..and that's basically it. Face some fckn consequences for your actions please. Take some responsibility. I feel like the show is showing us inklings of...something...bubbling underneath the surface but it's not our job to fill in the blanks or interpret shit. I do not work for nbc. I'm not getting paid for this. What is this girl thinking trying to get rio to invest in hot tubs (bless her calling dean an idiot. fuck this show for making him suddenly a good salesman) while trying to kill him. Does she think he dies and suddenly she owns it?? Makes zero sense. Also unpopular opinion i dont like that she caused a scene with the pool ball. Like....of course he isnt listening to you....you shot him...3 times....then stole from him....and have been screwing him over repeatedly.

-dean just....no. I understand that beth has so much going on in her life right now that divorce isn't exactly on her mind and dean is the last trace she has left of a normal life so shes holding onto it for dear life.....actually no. I do not know if any of that is actually true or if I'm just interpreting wrong. Because the subtext and editing and parallels and all that would be fine and dandy but not when that's all the show is at this point. If dean cheating yet again is not gonna make beth leave him, nothing will. I want his screentime to be 30 seconds and nothing more.

-im just not invested in the boland children. Annie and ruby have both struggled real bad, but beth, the one in the deepest, has 4 children who are somehow unaffected by this?? Not to mention the whole divorce, wait never mind, oh look a gang leader hanging out with mommy again, oh look our house is empty, type stuff happening. Beth's kids should be going through it but for some reason they arent? Maybe it's because child labor laws or something lol.

- rio. At this point I'm rooting for him for than anything. But I genuinely do not know why he hasnt killed beth. She's proven herself to be more of a liability than an asset and I just cannot understand why he hasnt killed her. Unless it's the whole "feelings" route, which wouldve made him look dumb, but made sense based on what we were given. This is actually the direction I thought the season was going but now it just seems like he is a bad businessman lol. Obviously she cant die for the sake of the show, but its like they didnt even try to make it make sense. He definitely knows about the hitman btw. I dont really blame him for anything he's done with beth so far. He robbed her in retaliation. He had to cut her off when she started acting shady. 🤷‍♀️ he let's her get away with too much tbh. It's a shame that this character isnt being utilized. Its like they are banking on this mysterious aura to keep working, but we are 3 seasons in and it's a little old now. I personally think that they just don't know what to do with him now. Also can I point out how dumb he looks showing beth that he is doing business at the carwash, why would he give her more information than she needs when he is suspicious of her? I cant tell if I was happy with how unphased he looked about her outburst or if I wish he checked her.

-mick. Did his side plot with beth die? How does it seem like this show simultaneously moves through plots every episode but is also stuck in the same one for the entire season? I also think mick is not being utilized. As funny as it is for him to be a built in 3rd wheel all the time, they could do so much more. Like can you imagine if beth mouthed off or fucked up and mick checked her? The possible ways a plot like that could go...untapped potential.

-ruby. Ah...I remember when I thought her and stan's fight was dragging for too long. Miss those days. See even tho ruby and stan seem to have the same issue over and over it's not the same story. Pen cap, new job, sarah stealing, all the same fight, but with different stories. And it really seems like Ruby's always going through it but I appreciate the variety. Stan's storyline has been interesting but I dont know how much it relates to the central plot. Sarah....great. that actress is so talented and even tho shes an attitude machine (what preteen is not) i just love her scenes. Harry seems to be missing a lot. The hills are the only part I seem to enjoy anymore. Really wish the show would explore why ruby seems to be the one who keeps getting caught up with the law...I wonder what it could be....what is different about her..hm...

- annie. Backtracked so much. Wish she had a single plot that didnt revolve around men. Now shes trying to cheat on her GED. Where's the snark? Where's the wit? It seems like all she is now is a codependent insecure mess. And I'm tired of this fuckass therapist. I thought her study montage was gonna end in a "she didnt need anyone but family (:" lesson but it did not for whatever reason. I thought by bringing a therapist into the show it was gonna give us more of a look at Annie's and Beth's upbringing and relationship. Or help annie work through her issues, the boomer thing too. Or maybe lead to Beth's ptsd diagnosis. Therapy could've helped move the plot forward or help the characters grow, but it's doing the opposite of that. If its not contributing to the main plot, what is its purpose? To give annie yet another terrible love interest?

To summarize....I hate it here.

[malicious-fisheeves]

I wrote a little thing for Tens. There is Violence

        Tens has the habit of mostly just swimming through one day to the next. He would like to think it’s just due to his age-- now that he’s in his thirties for the second time. If time is a river he’s gotten trapped in some eddy, like a leaf dancing on the surface, spinning in circles.

      It’s not a terrible fate...

      On this day, he’s made his way back into the tavern while the spring rains begin again. Within seconds of his entrance, it starts pouring. Big rain drops smack against the window and he can hear the roar of wind and rain pounding against the thatch roofing.

      He sighs.

      Taking a seat at the bar, the warmth from the hearth at his back, he allows for the worst of that afternoon’s chill to slip away .

      The bartender and presumably tavern owner is an older woman-- a little worn by sea salt and the bone chilling winters, streaks of dark hair mixed between mostly white and grey. Her face reads as “I take no shit” but she seems entertained enough by him. There’s a little crescent shaped scar on her lip that bends when she smiles, which he finds charming.

      “What else can I get for you young man?”

      “Anything warm, miss-- could I by chance have your name, actually?”

      She raises an eyebrow, but has a warm expression. “Margraid.” She turned around to fetch something from the pot behind her, bringing a ceramic bowl of soup out.

      He rubs his hands together, luxuriating on just being able to feel the heat return to his fingers. “Thank you, Margraid. How much do I owe you?”       “Soup’s free.”

      “No it ain’t!” someone barks from the other side of the bar. Companions       surrounding him guffaw.

      “It ain’t free for you, Siaghal!” Margraid yells back, earning more laughter. Siaghal curses, rolls his eyes, and goes back to his drink while his friends tease him.

      He takes a sip to stifle his laugh.

      “So how about you then, lad?”

      Tens hums for a second. “Just Tens.”

      She quirks a brow, leaning on her elbows. “Now that’s an interesting name, how’d you get it?”

      He considers his response for a moment. “Ah, well, you know how mainlanders are-- not the best at pronouncing our names, so I shortened mine to Tens, and it just fits.” A half truth.

      Margraid has a pleasant look of surprise grace across her face. “Ah, I had a feeling you were from Skellige.”

      Tens hums again, smiling even though it makes him feel tired, before taking another sip of his soup.

      “What brings you back then? Must have been some time for you to sound like a mainlander” she says, but it’s not barbed by cynicism. He has merely earned her curiosity.

      “Ah, I’ve been travelling for a while now, I thought it’d be a good time to come back.”

      She leans her chin on her cupped hand. “How long have you been travelling?”

      Tens lets out a puff of air, counting on his fingers for a moment. “Well this time around I’d say it’s been about thirty years”

      Her jaw drops for a second, then she laughs-- it’s a big, hearty laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “Damn, I wish I had whatever you elves did. You barely look twenty-five.”

      Tens tittered, doing a rather poor job of hiding a smile.

      Margraid gives him a warm grin before turning around to attend to others.

      The night is, at least, uneventful at first. He’s mostly left alone, although a few curious young men entertain him by asking questions.

      “What brings you here?” one of them says, not doing well (or not trying to) hide the up-and-down look Tens gets.

      It doesn’t really bother him. “The rain, mostly.”

      He’s earned a few chuckles, before being left to his own devices once more.       Tens usually didn’t mind chatting, it was a good way to pass the time and find something to do. Invite himself onto caravans, into bandit rings, or into some noble person’s, ah, entertainment. But this week was a bad week. He was tired.

      Tens looked around and found plenty of others smoking, so lit his own pipe and sighed. Some of the tension eased away.

      But before Tens could finally relax, four dipshits barged through the door. With a clatter, the glass window in the door rattled, almost threatening to shatter.

      He sighed and did his best to make himself small, though that wasn’t something he was good at, given his height, so he mostly just hunched over the counter and tried to look away-- but he couldn’t help but notice Margraid had a rather frightened look on her face, though she masked it well by frowning and folding her arms.

      “I already paid you this week, Donaidh” she hissed.

      The tavern got awfully quiet.

      “Yes, well, the tax just went up” said the man in the middle-- he was stout and square and looked like a prick.

      There was a larger man behind him while two more flanked him on either side.

      Margraid sighed and reached under the bar to fiddle with something before taking out a grey coin purse and tossing it at one of Donaidh’s dogs.

      Despite everyone’s wishes, Donaidh and company sit at the bar. They seemed to relish in the negative attention. Without much a fight Margraid gives them free drinks and food all the while looking like she hopes they’ll just get out. Tens watches, a little sad, but isn’t exactly trying to get into trouble-- not yet, at least. Not this week.

      He mostly stares into the grain of the wood that makes up the bar and tries to lean closer to the fire and away from Donaidh.

      “Who’s this here?” one of them notes.

      Tens can’t see him, but knows they’re talking about him. “Tens. What’s it to you?”

      “Tense?” he says, clearly not bright.

      “It’s his name, Artur” Margraid corrects, low in tone.

      “Never heard of a man named Tense” Artur grumbles. The stool shifts as Artur decides to look down at him.

      Tens sighes, but says nothing.

      “Elves always got funny names” Donaidh decided he needed to point out.

      “Yes we’re just full of humor” he remarks. If his words were poison, Donaidh might have dropped dead from the potency in his tone.

      Donaidh scoffs and gets off the stool.

      Shit.

      Tens smooths back his hair and sits up, turning to watch as Donaidh and company decide to surround him.

      “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

      The big one decides to shove him a little, but Tens doesn’t let it push him off his seat.

      “Listen, sirs, let’s not do this. Miss Margraid here has given you your money, and your food, and your drinks, don’t give her a mess to clean up.”

      He tried to put on his friendliest face, but all things considered he was having a lousy week and he was a hair's breadth away from losing his fucking mind. There was something sensible somewhere in him telling him it was a bad idea to go four on one, though.

      Then, Donaidh decked him. It would have hurt, normally, but Tens was admittedly not all in. He felt blood trickle down from his nose. He did groan, gritting his teeth.

      Artur had enough mind to put a dagger up to his throat. Dandy.

      “I really don’t want to do this with you” he hissed.

      Donaidh chuckled darkly. “Aw, well too bad.” Ugh, what an ass.

      Tens rolled his eyes, which probably wasn’t smart, because he got punched in the stomach then. He doubled over, hissing through his teeth as the metallic taste of his own blood  filled his mouth.

      He had half the mind to grab his staff but one of Donaidh’s goons scooped it away as he went to hug the back wall.

      “Donaidh that’s enough” Magraid tried to command.

      “Shut up, girl.”

      Uuuughh. He was going to regret this. He knew he would. But he was so fucking tired of Donaidh’s stupid mouth.

      Before he could get punched again, he took his elbow and jabbed it into Artur’s throat. The man made a sort of gurking sound, lifting his hand up and drawing his knife away. Idiot. The next thing Tens did was bull rush him to get off his chair. It hadn’t taken more than a second or two-- the man was a twig.

      “Bastard!”

      Tens rolled over Artur, springing onto his feet. Donaidh hissed and roared “get him you idiots!”

      Unfortunately for Tens, the big guy was a lot faster than he’d have assumed. One lunge, and Tens was barely out of the way, but getting backed up towards the entrance.

      Artur had collected himself and took a swing at him with the knife, which almost hit home. After taking a few more swings, Tens was nearly back against the wall-- or rather, the door.

      He felt someone yank his hair and he yelped. Before he could take any action, one large forearm had wrapped around his throat and squeezed hard. Tens tried to bite down, and though the man cursed, it only made him squeeze tighter.

      “Gut this fucker!” he screamed as Tens drew blood, trying to tear more flesh by making a sawing motion with his teeth. If only he had fangs.

      Artur surged forward, but no one had thought about the fact Tens was almost six and a half feet tall, most of which was legs. So, he picked his feet off the ground and bucked Artur hard in the chest. Nothing broke, but it definitely knocked the wind out of him. Though the man holding him was strong, his grip loosened as his weight suddenly dropped towards the floor, and one of Ten’s hands loosened.

      He reached up and jammed his thumb into the man’s eye. He screamed, and felt first tears, then blood, on his hand, but kept pushing until the man let go, dropping him quite suddenly.

      Tens gasped for breath as Artur tried plunging the knife in him again, but this time Tens kicked out his knee with a crack and Artur fell down-- gasping in pain. The knife fell out his hands. He kicked Artur again, sending him sprawling on the floor, taking the knife, and jammed it between the big man’s ribs. Before he had time to retrieve his new weapon however, Donaidh had grown a brain and tried smashing him over the head with a chair.

      Though he missed and instead shattered it against his soon-to-be dead buddy, Tens didn’t exactly have a lot of space. Without really getting the chance to get his bearings, Donaidh shoved his back over the nearest table and went in to throttle him, gripping him by the throat.

      Tens was exhausted, and already out of breath. His limbs felt heavy, and everything was getting dark. He could hear something pop and crack in his windpipe. He tried to do something with his hands, but they were quickly becoming distant, useless things.

      Magic was a funny thing. It always started at his chest, then sort of swam down the veins of his arms. A warm, electric feeling-- usually, like electricity, it was fast, but while the life was being choked out of him it felt glacially slow.

      He hissed, feeling the searing spell as he forced it to  his finger tips.

      He smiled, or perhaps snarled-- maybe in that moment they were the same thing.

      “Wh--” Donaidh didn’t get a chance to finish.

      Tens jammed his thumbs into Donaidh’s eyes, fingers glowing like molten metal. The skin of Donaidh’s face did not so much burn but melt-- it was always a bizarre feeling, though he had to say melting the white flesh of a man’s eyes was a first. He screamed and thrashed but Tens was holding him by his head.

      Once he let go of Tens’ throat, he was shoved off, crumpling to the floor. If he wasn’t dead, he probably wished he was.

      Tens took a few gasps of breath, sights and sounds and senses flushing his brain, overwhelming it. He remembered something important though.

      “Hey-- you, asshole, give me-- give me my fucking staff back” despite his exhaustion, the crazed and bloodshot look in his eye was enough to scare Donaidh’s last man into swiftly handing it over.

      “Thanks” he hissed, yanking it out of his grasp, before turning to limp out of the tavern, finally.

      God, he just wanted some fucking soup.

[pastelbatfandoms]

Get to know My Character

Taking this for My AHS Apocalypse Character. 

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded? Her name is Helena and yeah I suppose I picked it for the symbolism. Her name does have the word HEL in it after all.  02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness? Her Boyfriend/Future Husband Michael Langdon would definitely be a weakness other’s could use against her.  Also Michael unintentionally does use her love for him to his advantage. Also fear of dying and becoming a Spirit again,to Haunt and nothing more.  03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves? Her Red hair,her figure that she definitely uses to her advantage.   04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical) Just ONE?! ok...

Mentally Helena loves not only Michael’s Deviousness but his Innocence as well that few people,save for herself and Ms Mead,get to see or even understand.

Physically? I mean he is The Anti Christ he’s meant to be Beautiful. While he was younger he had an almost Angelic Beauty to him as he got older he exuded Charm and Sexuality. 

05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type? Helena has never been particularly Shy,though she used to let Michael take the lead,once he was comfortable,often until she came back from Hell.  06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying? lol No hobbies but,I suppose being Bratty or Obstinate when he’s trying to be Authoritative to others in The Santaury,or in general,peeves him a bit. And does not go unnoticed,usually resulting in a Punishment once they are alone.  07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)? Not that she knows.  08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it? Is falling for The Anti Christ a flaw? I suppose that’s a matter of opinion. Falling for Serial Killers on the other hand... 09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday? Christmas? lol probably Samhain tbh. But they don’t Celebrate in Traditional ways. Being a Spirit for so long Helena doesn’t really notice the changing of the seasons until she becomes Human again and even then she doesn’t care to notice it much,though she does like The Sun,something She misses after The Apocalypse. 

10. Is your character more feminine or masculine? Feminine all the way but she can still kick your ass or kill you. 11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage? Losing Michael,Michael being hurt,also she is the Jealous type,as is Michael,so him flirting with someone else,whether it’s to Manipulate them or not,does rub her the wrong way. Usually resulting in Angry late night Sex. Which isn’t always a bad thing...

12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up? I mean being able to talk to the living and have them see her while a Ghost was a perk. (and vice versa) As well as Generally being a Witch and The Demonic Powers she received while in Hell. 

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker? They are both Light sleepers. Helena is not used to sleeping much since she didn’t have to while dead. Also who can sleep with all those Do Gooders and White Witches trying to kill you. 14. Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates? Helena lived in The “Murder House” as it was coined years ago,so she’s always been around a lot of people,though I suppose LIVING isn’t the right word. When Michael brought her back Helena moved in with him and Ms Mead.  15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear. Her Ex,Dandy Mott. But when that someone is responsible for your Murder you tend to hold a grudge. Helena used to be scared off him especially when she descended into Hell,the first time,and had to relive her Murder over and over again. Until Michael came to get her and Disintegrated Dandy for good. 

16. Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like? lol Neither. She keeps fit on The Hearts of her Enemies ;) 17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children? Yes and Maybe. Though I think Michael is more keen on Adopting. We’ll name her Sabrina... 18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode? Somewhere Regal like a Mansion,A Castle or a Sanctuary.  19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily? Only if she were standing up for Michael,Lucifer ect.. or if someone said something she didn’t like and she was in a mood. Helena is an excellent Fighter now. 

20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures? Not be stereotypical but she really likes Snakes and Crows,as well as Raven’s. Her favorite Mythological Creature is The Cerberus. 

21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear? Helena has pretty much faced her fears. They’ve both Loved and Lost and Loved and Lost again. 

22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have? Helena’s features are quite normal,though she does have an Otherwordly Aura around her that only Magnifies once she Descends into Hell the last time. Also The powers that Lucifer Bestows on her can make her eyes glow and turn more Demonic.  Helena is also more seductive and alluring once her and Michael reach adult hood,or Michael does anyway.

23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved? lol School they are well past that. She was very good in school and well behaved until she met Dandy,though she was still Book Smart. Dandy wouldn’t have it any other way.  24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like? What isn’t he like?... I will be making a A-Z Head-canons for what Michael is like Sexually,so stay tuned for that! 25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day? Her Death (Both when Dandy killed her and when The Coven did) The things that happened to her in Hell.  26. What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc? ^^ See above. 27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it? Killing Someone.... 28. If your character became a celebrity, what would they be famous for? A Model or a Famous Psychic/Tarot Reader.  29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one? Died for them.  30. When it comes to the arts (music, film, theater, etc), what does your character like? Anything Retro or Vintage (like from The 1920′s to 80′s) Classical Music or anything with a Dark Ambiance. After discovering TV again Helena recently fell in love with The Craft,Interview With a Vampire, (because Lestat reminds her of Michael),Dusk Till Dawn and AMC’s Freakshow (it reminds her of simpler times) She also has a weakness for Slasher Films.  31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what? Yes and Both.  32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do? Just alone in there room,the two of them,or taking a stroll talking about anything & everything,including The end of the world. Michael is very curious. Followed by Ritualistic Sex that evening.  33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go? Helena rarely likes being alone as she was alone for far too long as a Ghost. But when she does need her down time she prefers practicing her Spells in The Woods alone at night or in her Darkened room with a glass of Wine while reading an Erotic or Historical Romance Series.  34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc) Not really. She prefers a good Home cooked Meal like Ms Mead or Constance used to make but she isn’t picky.  35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go? pffft been there,done that. Twice.  36. Does your character have any medical conditions? Are they serious or minor? Do they affect their day to day life? No

37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them? Being Disrespected,being made Jealous. 

38. What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc? Again no Preference. 

39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct? Anything anyone assumes about her now is absolutely Correct. Except she is not being coerced into anything she says or does. 

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others? Already kind of answered this one. read Question 30. 41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way? Her real Family are all dead. Her Surrogate Family mean the world to her though. Dead and Living.  42. Is there anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or they wish they could change? being taken advantage of by Dandy. Killing without a purpose or end game.  43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self? Michael,Constance and even Lucifer always get to see her True Self. Though she can be a bit more on around Lucifer.  44. Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character? Having Michael die in her arms would be traumatic,the way she died in his.  45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve? Depends on who it is.

46. What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover? They are not one’s for PDA but if Helena can tell Michael is getting worked up she’ll go over and gently squeeze his hand or put a hand on his shoulder,calming him with Magic.  47. Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along? Outgoing now for sure. Helena’s done being told what to do. Which doesn’t go over very well with Cordelia or Lucifer. She’s very much a leader,but will share the spotlight.  48. Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious? Um Obviously Michael being Flirty with someone else,especially a Follower.  49. What is something that your character has nightmares about? Are these frequent? Do they heavily affect your character’s mood? ^See Dandy.  50. If your character confessed love to their crush, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc, what would they say? She has or rather Michael just sensed it and told her he loved her too. Followed by a Passionate Kiss. It didn’t take long,they are destined after all. And have always been together in one form or another.

[mistydany13]

AHS Tag Woot Woot!✨✨

FINALLY! I get to do this a few hours I have off before I work another few more shifts! Thanks @mistyyygoode for tagging me!

Overall:

1.) What season is your favorite?  Coven I’d say, because I’ve rewatched the most.

2.) Which season is your least favorite? I have yet to seen Cult and all of Hotel, but right now it’s Hotel.

3.) Do you have a favorite episode overall? If yes, which is it? Either The Magical Delights of Stevie Nicks or The Seven Wonders. But bonus points to Go to Hell SOLELY on the fact Misty opened a can of whoop ass in that episode.

4.) Who is your favorite character? Say it it with me now- MISTY DAY! Also, Cordelia, Fiona, Queenie from Coven and Kit and Lana Winters from Aslyum are alright too.

5.) Who is your least favorite character? Although Madison Montgomery was cringeworthy IMO, I found Maggie Esmeralda to be worst because she was boooring. At least I had fun loathing Madison. I also have a love-hate relationship with Tate, not 100% his character but how fans normalized and romanticized a rapist and a school shooter.

6.) Who has been your favorite guest star so far? Stevie Nicks, 100%. I will say Neil Patrick Harris in Freak Show was a cool surprise, but his character creeped me out.

7.) If you could have anyone be a guest star, who would it be? Florence Welch because she is very witchy and would be amazing with the Coven. Idina Menzel maybe because she played Elphaba?

8.) If you could come up with the next season, what would it be? I will say a positive about Hotel was the Valentino sub-plot, which as a film buff I found fascinating. Maybe a season (which would be extremely meta, btw) about ghosts of old Hollywood, the heyday of Hollywood and all the f-ed up things that happened in that time, from drugging actresses like Judy Garland to stories about people killing themselves on the Hollywood sign. It can also parallel modern day with well...all the scary stuff we finding out about Hollywood now.

9.) If you could meet any of the cast members, who would it be? Lily or Sarah, but Taissa seems sweet and I feel like we’d get along maybe.

10.) What are you looking forward to with next season? Seeing the witches deal with the apocalypse. Misty coming back with an even bigger can of whoop ass.

Murder House:

1.) Which episode is your favorite? The Halloween ones.

2.) Which episode is your least favorite? Home Invasion.

3.) Who is your favorite character? Constance, feeding my love of sassy Jessica Lange characters. Also Zoe, I felt bad for her.

4.) Who is your least favorite character? Ben, but also Hayden annoyed the eff out of me.

5.) If you could change anything about this season, what would it be? Not sure tbh.

Asylum:

1.) Which episode is your favorite? Continium.

2.) Which episode is your least favorite? Dark Cousin.

3.) Who is your favorite character? Lana, duh.

4.) Who is your least favorite character? Grace.

5.) If you could change anything about this season, what would it be? I’m not sure if I would change it, but it was hard to watch the Thredson scenes and the lobotomy scenes.  

Coven:

1.) Which episode is your favorite? The Magical Delights ofStevie Nicks.

2.) Which episode is your least favorite? The Axeman Cometh.

3.) Who is your favorite character? Again, MISTY DAY!

4.) Who is your least favorite character? Madison.

5.) If you could change anything about this season, what would it be? … that Misty didn’t die…

Freakshow:

1.) Which episode is your favorite? Edward Mordrake Part 2, only for Gods and Monsters.

2.) Which episode is your least favorite? Blood Bath.

3.) Who is your favorite character? Jessica Lange as Elsa Mars, even though she is problematic as hell, I just love Jessica’s performance.

4.) Who is your least favorite character? Dandy, but also DANDY’s MOM.YOU DONE FUCKED UP RAISING YOUR CHILD GLORIA! And also Twisty was terrifying.

5.) If you could change anything about this season, what would it be? Maggie Esmeralda being in it and the cutting the woman in half bit. Scary. I’m just not into gore.

I could only do that much because I had work to get ready for but thanks @mistyyygoode ! I tag @its-a-goode-day @swvmp-witch @ahsporn @sr-nanaa @violet-harmxn @evanscouch

[pass3rby]

Element of Surprise

#1

Fandom: X-men (movies) Pairing: Allerdrake (Pyro/Iceman) Summary: Everybody has to make decisions. Decisions that might or might not work out. He wasn’t in a habit of looking back either way.

A/N: 

Greatest thanks to my brother from another mother for bestowing an infectious prompt upon me and all the wretched jokes that accompanied his insightful comments. You’ve been a great help and an ass at the same time.  The rest of my gratitude belongs to my dear family who has an immaculate sense of recognizing each highlight and “I saw the light!” moment of my writing, reliably and effectively ruining every single one of them. You’ve been an invaluable teacher of forced multitasking (which I still fail at spectacularly).  Thank you, guys, for harassing me at the most unfortunately-picked times imaginable but standing by me still.  Love you.

St. John Allerdyce was a survivalist. And this might be a very sucky way to begin one's story, but he was nothing but cut-the-crap kind of guy, so go deal.

Where was he again? Ah, yes. Good at the pretend game, he knew how to play tough; easily irked when deprived of a fire source. Bad-tempered, really. All of these stellar qualities went well with him being a realist to the bone. Wrap it up and ship it off.

He wasn't confessing all that out of some twisted delusion of having a chance at redemption, though. Wanting to save his tar-dark soul? No. It was only so that when he says that he's done morally questionable things to pull through, it would be clear that it was no slip up, not a 'few times' kind of deal. He's actually done them more often than not. Not that he counted; just saying. That was what he meant by being a survivalist. That was what this was about.

The main point here? He kept on going. Always found a way. Pushed. Squeezed in. Got his hands dirty. Gritted his teeth. Whatever it took. Morality was overrated where he lived; nobody abided by it anyway, so why should he? He was just a 'misfit' trying to get by, same as the next guy from a broken home.

On the streets and on his own. Making it, no matter the circumstances. That was the source of his pride. He might have turned out brash as a result, distrusting on a good day and suspicious round the clock, but who gave a shit. Certainly not him, not when it kept him alive this whole time.

When the X-men found him, he didn't feel elation; not even relief and he was far from thankful, too. He suspected the worst and he kept on running from them until they corralled him in and got him on their overly flashy and disgustingly impressive jet.

They took him in; full of reassurances that he'll be alright from then on, that he'll be safe now. Who were they to tell him that? Who were they to be so sure about it, to have balls to warrant that? What was the guarantee? Their skin-tight black&yellow spandex? If so, allow him to doubt the empty promise, because those were a sight for sore eyes – literally, just to make them sore.

Everything would work itself out and quite naturally in its usual, wary and solitary way, though (after all, once you lean onto someone, you're only bound to fall sooner or later) – if only they didn't have Bobby Drake on their "team" already.

The guy was way too cheery and overly friendly. Optimistic. An impersonification of a 'Think positive!' attitude, "Not made from concentrate, one hundred percent natural". It was almost like he was shooting for some such ad twenty-four seven. Think about the descriptive adjectives for a straight-laced goody two shoes from suburbs; you name it, he's that.

Everything was perfect.

Everything was dandy.

Bullshit.

He couldn't stand the guy. The poster boy irritated him; got on his nerves like no one else before. John was way too pragmatic to join this sort of let's pretend. But when dear Bobert started cracking, show that not everything was quite so well in his lala land… That's when John took real notice and interest.

You see, he couldn't be arsed to give a flying fuck about some fake looser, but a kid who had his whole life perfectly lined up and sorted only to get "screwed over" by mutation his parents wouldn't take well to? That was John's kind of real that he was willing to interact with.

Sure, Drake was still a sunny boy with majority of views intact and therefore headdesk-ishly naive, but he wasn't all plain "guy next door" (quotation marks because same door actually) anymore. And while John's own personality and stands had been torn down or have crumbled and been rebuilt time and time again, making him into who he was (coincidentally basically the opposite of his roommate), he and the Snowflake there suddenly had a link of communication and it held ever since then. Thus, their companionship begun.

It didn't hurt they both were element-sensitive – that wasn't to say their co-existing was a cakewalk, though. After all, like Ice and Fire, they too were diametrically different. Just a small example to draw a picture here: while Bobby was afraid of his abilities, scared of his element, John felt an undeniable thrill whenever setting free his own; he loved to see fire reign over anything in its way, watch it burn strong.

Ultimately, their mindsets resulted in both of them failing and it was all for the best that they were roommates in the end, because accidents.

Reason number two was that they were a good "confidence boost" and "recklessness dampener" (whatever) respectively for each other, too. That's what their instructors said, but if anybody asked John what it was for him, he just simply enjoyed coaxing Sub-Zero ("Very funny, you pyromaniac." "C'mon, that was weak. You'll have to do better than that, Ice Cube.") out of his shell, letting his fire frolic with its counter element. Negative and positive of the same, if you wanted to get poetic.

Of course, there was also the aspect of them both being young and as such, hormone-driven, too. He was always open to some serious self-exploring opportunity. Safe environment for that wasn't a given, not for him, and even less so in combination with someone begrudgingly-trustworthy (i.e. with no other agenda hidden behind the forementioned romping between the sheets).

It was nothing; just fooling around – one that was kept secret from their teachers and anyone, really, since Bobby-boy was too chickenshit to admit to a healthy dose of experimenting himself. John couldn't care less; he wasn't the guy's keeper after all.

Until he somehow turned out to be. What was worse? Without him even expecting it. You see, the thing was… he kinda screwed himself over. For all his puffed-up chest and big shoulders about how he was prudent and cautious, he landed himself in a swamp (or moving sand if he'd so chose to rather stay dry; same difference, though) right there. Knee deep and it was only a matter of time until it swallowed him up whole.

It was all the Ice-berk's ("I'm not stupid, John!" "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.") fault. If he wasn't so pure and open and easy to approach – hell, he, approaching him all of his own! – in the first place, John wouldn't have fallen into this trap.

Who was he kidding. He blew it. Big time.

But it was still all good, right? What he meant was, there was no rush or anything. They could simply keep at it the way they had up til now with Ice Ice Bobby none the wiser and everyone chilling, pun intended.

He should have known that he was never meant to have a happy end. Not ever (as if life hadn't showed him enough indications to that already) and definitely not with Snow White on top of that. When had he sunken so low as to think he even could?

Shame. Shame on you, St. John Allerdyce.

As he was forced to witness and live the changes that wafted in after Rogue's appearance and continued presence, years of evolved camaraderie and any ease connected to it began to shrivel.

He had suddenly more free time on his hands than what he knew what to do with, his subconsciousness developed an almost uncontrollable need for a facepalm at least once per every 24 hour mark, his teeth were bound to rot any day now with the diabetes-inducing teenage romance developing before his eyes and he better man-the-fuck-up right now, because he did not make it this far only to become a sob story.

So, he watched with skeptical interest as Bobby, encouraged by Rogue's supporting words, froze his mother's disgustingly milk-ruined coffee instead. John knew long before they had even opened their mouths, what side Bobby's parents would pick, what their reaction would be. He could not keep his sarcastic thoughts pointed at his roommate from emerging then.

Why did you think, all of a sudden, they won't mind? We talked about your bigoted parents so many times… You think that you having a girlfriend like a good, normal teenage boy somehow neutralizes your negative mutant points?

If not knowing better, John would say Bobby did it on purpose just to fuck with him. Nobody could be that sickeningly foolish after all. And the Drakes? He silently dared them to surprise him; to call their "Art teacher" out on his blatant lie even. To prove him wrong.

Which would be when Wolverine got shot in the head right infront of them. That did surprise him, John will give them that.

An unexpected rush of everything followed right after and with startling clarity.

One too many black eyes.

Sleeping in a cardboard box, freezing (nobody cared).

Broken jaw.

Stealing a pack of matches the first time around – to get to feel at least a bit safe (they were too tricky to operate, to strike with shaking hands, wrong move there wrong wrong wrong).

Hungry, impotent anger.

Running away.

The breath; foul and heavy with booze.

First fire (pure accident please!).

His mother on the floor, bleeding (never fighting back; just taking it run!).

Heavy hands.

Cops chasing him back into slums (you'd have to know it here better to catch me, assholes).

Bloodshot bottomless eyes. A vortex about to swallow him up, too.

Events flashing before his mind's eye at random and in no chronological order.

His heart not having a foggiest how to deal with the overabundance of adrenaline that jumped up out of nowhere.

"And the rest of you, on the ground. Now."

He could almost physically feel Wolverine, right before his feet, lifeless.

See Bobby, lying down, obedient.

"Look, kid. I said, on the ground."

Rogue, too; docile.

They can't be serious. Why were they kidding themselves? They were gonna die here.

"We don't want to hurt you, kid."

Really. The fucking cop just shot Wolverine. If they won't protect themselves… They're dead. If he's not gonna do anything now…

He gulped. Palmed his zippo; the warmed-up steel that bit slicker with sweat. Or sick memory?

C'mon, Pyro, show up. Fight.

In the pit of his stomach, hot magma twisted and curled, warming him up until he could almost sense the licks of unborn fire on his fingertips.

There.

He won't lie down. Not until he's six feet under.

A/N: So I’ve found something of a themesong for EoS I think. If you’re wondering, you can check it here.

A bit of explanation on a side:

My idea is that St. John Allerdyce still has Australian background, he just moved to US with his family when he was a small kid or something. So... just bear with the little mess, please. I love him being "St. John" way too much as to delete half of it from my story.

Also, I’ll deviate a bit from the movies timeline (which is a tangle anyway) in this version (I got two total, don’t panic), which you’ll notice on the transition from X-2 movie to X-3.

[pussymagicuniverse]

American Horror Story Seasons Ranked from Best to Mediocre

Practically every TV series has a season that you don’t feel overjoyed about. Very few shows that have multiple seasons will impress you every time, unless you’re a super fan that finds no wrong even in what you love. It doesn’t make you less of a fan to critique and notice what could have been done better.

With American Horror Story it’s a different experience in regards to critiquing each season because it’s an anthology series. Despite American Horror Story: Apocalypse’s crossover with American Horror Story: Coven – every season has its own theme, plot, and characters. That alone brings on a plethora of possibilities each season, especially when we’re given weird teasers and minimal information.

Despite my love for AHS, there have been seasons that were quite sloppy or just not my speed. Below you’ll find my own personal ranking and if you’re a fan then you’ll understand all of what I’m saying.

1. Coven (2013)

While it may not seem like it, this season gets bashed on occasion. Some arguments on why it wasn’t the best were valid, but not enough to change my mind about this season.

Was it perfect? No, but nobody can say this wasn’t a nail-biting season. Not only did it have bad ass witches but Angela Bassett (Marie Laveau) and Jessica Lange (The Supreme, Fiona Goode) stole the damn show! A lot of the memorable moments featured one or both of them. Unless Stevie Nicks’ cameo appearances are more your speed. Which, in my opinion, were iconic and can’t be touched.

All in all, the season explored racism, what it’s like being black and a witch, depictions of Marie Laveau, Madame LaLaurie and the Axeman, as well as other topics. In my opinion, this season deserves better treatment than it’s received.

2. Murder House (2011)

This season was the perfect one to rope us in for this anthology series. It gave us the right amount of drama and plenty of horror. Of course, Jessica Lange (Constance Langdon) was stellar in this season, but the performances from the rest of the cast were on point as well.

The Harmon Family, which this season focuses on, keeps us on the edge of our seats throughout. Not many things will have you saying “totally saw that coming,” from the twists and turns to what transpired in that spooky ass mansion. While there were a handful of things that still disturb me, it’s still a top season for me and is undoubtedly a successful one within the series.

3. Apocalypse (2018)

Having Murder House and Coven crossover is something I have to applaud Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk (the show creators) for. Not only that but casting Cody Fern as Michael Langdon (aka the Antichrist ) was a big thumbs up. His performance throughout is no joke and it held me til the end, even when his character had me unimpressed, which unfortunately happened more than I’d like to admit.

Some parts of this season were dragged out to me and some characters felt pointless by the end. And that’s just some of what could have been done better in my opinion. Nevertheless, seeing my favorite witches again and witnessing many explicit scenes and having certain gaps filled helped the slow parts of the season.

4. Roanoke (2016)

Weird as hell. That’s the easiest way to describe the overall vibe of this season. In the beginning it seems confusing because of the set up. Though soon enough you come to the conclusion that it’s a TV show within a TV show.

It starts off being about an interracial couple, Shelby (Lily Rabe) and Matt Miller (André Holland), Matt’s sister, Lee (Adina Porter) and their experiences in a farmhouse that’s situated on the land where the Roanoke Colony disappeared in the 1580’s.

It was an interesting way to explore a real-life mystery and bring something new to the table for the series. What can be considered memorable is how many times Matt’s name is said from start to finish, the crazy ass ghosts, Scáthach or that British accent from Sarah Paulson in the final few episodes.

5. Hotel (2015)

This season is one that you either really didn’t like or you liked for the most part. For me, it’s re-watchable and holds my interest every time, even with the jacked up and bizarre happenings that occur in the Hotel Cortez. Though, I’m one for weird and batshit crazy stories, so maybe that makes me slightly biased in this instance. Mostly the season focuses on serial killers, supernatural occurrences and beings and a whole lot of mystery.

Lady Gaga, who had never appeared on the show before, gets to show off her acting chops as The Countess, a vampire who’s endured decades of the Hotel Cortez, and it’s creator. She can’t be compared to Jessica Lange but she wasn’t a disappointment either. Essentially she brought a different flavor that you either like or don’t. Regardless, it may not have been amazing but it wasn’t the worst either.

6. Asylum (2012)

This season does way too much and it overall feels like the wrong type of chaos. Whether it’s the alien abduction, “Bloody Face”, the consistent bullshit Lana Winters (Sarah Paulson) endures, Briarcliff Manor overall, the demonic possession, or the other craziness within this season.

I just can’t bring myself to actually consider this season the best one. Meanwhile, other fans most certainly will give it that title. The cast does help keep the season afloat and that does help save the season for me. Without a solid cast, this season would been a huge dumpster fire, which is the short way of saying it. If anything, it’s very much memorable for “The Name Game” scene, as well as watching a possessed nun act high-key explicit.

7. Cult (2017)

Ahhh, the results of the 2016 presidential election. I despise thinking about the rigged and undeniably corrupt results. The same ones that made that orange fool the president. We already deal with this reality and the horror of it all. So having this season be so realistic was... awful.

Instead of wacky serial killers, vampires, possession, bad ass witches, ghosts, or anything else that American Horror Story has given us – we get the horrors of our present day, such as: violence coming from Trump supporters and the right-wing in general to how progressives are painted as too radical and sensitive. In addition to how even white progressives can flip.

Not much about this season is unrealistic, which made it hard to watch. Normally I would be all for symbolism and realistic aspects, but Cult wasn’t as gripping as previous seasons. Not even Evan Peters (whose character I really hated in this season) helped.

8. Freak Show (2014)

Unfortunately there’s not much to take away from this whack season. Yes, the title should have given it away. Though it was given the benefit of the doubt and became a let down.

Maybe the first episode showed some potential, yet from there it was just a weird chain of events within the plot. No one was prepared for a choppy story or the most irritating character that is Dandy Mott (Finn Wittrock).

This season is indefinitely my least favorite and not even a few re-watches can change my mind. Not even the gay content within this season made it any better, which is saying a lot. So it makes the bottom of this list, will stay at the bottom, and won’t crawl up from the abyss.

Vanessa Maki is a queer writer, artist & other things.

She’s full of black girl magic & has no apologies for that. Her work has appeared in various places like Really System & others. She is also forthcoming in a variety of places. She’s founder/EIC of rose quartz magazine & is involved in other literary spaces as well. 

Follow her twitter & visit her site.

[exquisitley-obsessed]

The Three Women Of Durin - A Step In The Right Direction (43)

MASTERLIST FOR THS STORY

(not my gif)

Rosie stepped outside into the brisk morning air, the cold pinching at her cheeks and piercing her ears as she did so. Ahead of her, Thorin was stepping over the fallen stone from the gate, making his way over to the left and up. Sighing, Rosie followed. As she moved over the rough stones she felt the cold seeping through her clothes and skin, trickling into her bones and attacking her very core. Her fingers soon turned numb which was no help whilst climbing over rocks and her teeth chattered in her skull.

But eventually, as she climbed higher and higher, the stones evened out and a set of steps could be distinguished in the mess of rock. Rosie climbed the last few steps before moving onto a flat rock which was in the shape of a perfect circle, appearing to be their destination. The architecture of the stone was almost elven-like as it was delicate and refined rather than the rough exterior the dwarves were almost famous for.

Thorin was stood at the very edge of the stone, hands folded behind his back and looking out at the soon to be battlefield. Without speaking a word Rosie slowly moved forward and joined him, the bitter cold air now forgotten as Thorin's thrumming heat was now keeping her warm. Silence stayed between them, but this was normal for the two, they enjoyed each other’s company, even if no words were passed between them.

After a while Rosie started looking at the stone once more, it was fascinating to look at, with detailed patterns carved into it, it looked to be one of the few remaining intact things in Erebor. However, the true age of the stone was visible. Weeds and plants grew in the cracks and crevasses of the ageing rock, and in some places, winter flowers had begun to bloom, Snowdrops, Winter Hazel and Flowering Quince to name a few, it gave the setting an even more magical look.

“Biological weathering,” Rosie smiled, her middle school teachings coming back to her.

“Pardon?” Thorin asked turning to her, a smile now on his features. Rosie simply smiled back and nodded at where the flowers lay.

“It’s where rock is weathered by plants getting into the cracks and crevasses of rock. As the plants grow they will push apart the stone and eventually the stone will break and wither away travelling down to water where it will break up along the way so by the time it reaches the water, it’s sediment,” Rosie said automatically after all those years of revising it over and over again. Thorin stared at Rosie before slowly raising an eyebrow. “What? I got an A* on my paper on different rocks, how they’re shaped and smashed,” The two chuckled slightly before turning back to the flowers.

“The virgin tears have always been a favourite of mine,” Thorin smiled happily as if he was replaying a happy memory.

“The what, what’s?” Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise and interest.

“Those ones there,” Thorin said pointing down to where a group of snowdrops had clustered together.

“Oh,” Rosie said, acknowledging her misjudgment, “Ah, we call those snowdrops but I guess you all have a completely different set of names for everything,” Rosie smiled.

“Ah, I see how that might have been rather…” Thorin began.

“Yeah,” Rosie sighed happily. There was a pause as the two surveyed the snowdrops.

“Virgin tears were my mother’s favorite flower,” Thorin smiled happily, “She said it was the only reason to look forward to winter,” Rosie smiled as a memory of her own mum came flooding into her mind, “When it actually came to winter, she would plant as many as she could in the gardens so that when you walked in, you were surrounded by a waterfall of these white droplets,” Thorin continued to smile dozily as he basked in memories from his childhood somewhere inside his mind and Rosie watched him, happy and content that there were no longer worry lines on his face and that his eyes were no longer dull and…cloudy.

“I don’t actually know who your mother is,” Rosie said dreamily.

“Oh?”

“No, she’s not mentioned in the books…well, I don’t think she is. I only read so much of the book and even then, it was years ago...I’m rather ashamed of myself now,” Rosie said happily expecting Thorin to smile with her, but he didn’t. “Hey? Is everything okay?”

“Well besides the fact that soon I will be riding into war to fill out the duties of my ancestors…I’m dandy,” Thorin said with a touch of sass. Rosie stayed silent for a moment before thinking about what she could have said to upset him, then it came to her.

“Hey, Thorin…” She started, a touch of question in her voice.

“Yeah?” A pause.

“Where is your mother? I mean…not to be rude or anything but….” Rosie trailed off. Thorin didn’t move or speak for a few seconds before he let out a low deep sigh.

“My mother…” He began as if he didn’t know how to put what was in his mind, in words, “My mother,” He started again with more confidence, “died the day that…Smaug took Erebor,” He said slowly as if the words were hard to physically say.

“Oh,” Rosie said, sadness in her voice, “I’m so sorry,” Was all she could muster, on top of everything he had to lose his mother as well.

“It’s okay, I mean…it was a long time ago, I’ve had plenty of time to get over it,” Thorin said softly, a completely new and different tone. “Or, get as close as possible to getting over it,”

“Thorin…” Rosie began but found no words coming to her. Rosie had never truly experienced a family death, I mean the biggest she’d ever had to deal with was her pet hamster scruff dying when she was seven. But she had seen other’s going through it, her parents to be precise.

There was the day when she was around nine that her parents called her from downstairs and sat her down at the dinner table telling her that they had something very serious to tell her. And she thought they were getting a puppy. As it turns out, Rosie’s grandmother had died, the one who lived in France and Rosie had only seen a few times, she never got on with her grandmother, she smoked all the time and put salt on everything and always forced her opinions on the young Rosie.

So, when she heard of this woman’s death, she could not bring herself to react. Because there was nothing to react to. This woman meant no more or less to her than a stranger, she was her grandma…but she was a horrible woman whom Rosie really could not be bothered to go visit. But her parents thought it was a big deal, especially her mum.

It wasn’t the death of her grandmother that had caused little Rosie’s heart to break. It was watching her mum sitting on the stairs, a phone pressed against her face and openly weeping, trying desperately to muffle her sobs as to not wake her little daughter.

And now in her mind, she could see Thorin, head in hands as he not only has to deal with the death of his little brother and mother but his missing father and his people who were now looking at him to lead the kingdom to a safe future.

“Hey Thorin,” She spoke up after being lost in her thoughts for a few moments.

“Yes,” He asked rather tiredly, Rosie paused before talking.

“I really admire you, you know that?” Rosie smiled, Thorin turned to her and looked at her as if she had gone mad.

“What for?” He asked.

“I just…am, I guess,” She smiled, “I just want you to know because, I know we all have moments where we doubt ourselves and our strength and I just want you to know…you’re the strongest person I know…mentally and physically,” Thorin chuckled and Rosie felt a satisfaction creep through her at the sight of his smile.

“I shouldn’t be,” Thorin sighed straightening up and stretching out his back.

“And why ever not?” Rose gasped.

“Because I fell to the gold sickness,” Thorin said with a smile, however, Rosie did not return the favour.

“Thorin…”

“I know! I know!” Thorin laughed throwing his hands in the air, “I shouldn’t let it get to me, I got it! But…it will, okay. It’s going to get to me for the rest of my life and…that’s just something I’ve got to live with,”

“Thorin,”

“What?”

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Rosie tried arguing but was quickly shot down by Thorin.

“Not that bad!” He laughed, “How?”

“I mean…nothing really got hurt, nothing really got damaged!”

“We got damaged…you, me, our…friendship,” The last word was spoken with some amosite which caused Rosie to think he was being sarcastic.

“What? Aren’t we friends?” Rosie asked, slightly hurt.

“Oh, yes of course! I didn’t mean it like…never mind,” Thorin shook his head, still quite riled up. A silence fell over the two as they both looked out onto the view.

“You know,” Rosie said breaking through the tension, “I hated you at the beginning of the trip,” A snort erupted from Thorin, “No, I’m serious,” Rosie laughed, “You really freaking pissed me off,”

“How?” Thorin grinned turning to her.

“How?” Rosie laughed, “Just like…everything about you,”

“Oh brilliant,”

“No, no! I mean, no offence, but you were just so stubborn all the time,” Rosie continued.

“Oh no, don’t worry, this is making me feel a lot better,” Thorin chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m not offending you or anything,”

“You’re not?” Thorin grinned jokingly.

“But I mean…” Rosie cocked her head to one side, “You really were an ass,” They both grinned. “But seriously,” Rosie continued, “Are you like that with everyone who is new to you?”

“No,” Thorin sighed happily, “Just people who gate-crash highly dangerous and meaningful quests that involve me filling out my inevitable destiny to eventually become a king of my long-lost kingdom,”

“Oh…” Rosie said, rather taken aback by his response.

“Yes,” Thorin said dozily, “Oh,” There was a pause.

“So…am I special?” This caused Thorin to tip his head back slightly and allow a string of throaty laughs to escape him, something which Rosie had only ever seen him do once before.

“Yes, I guess you could say you are,” He smiled.

“Brilliant,” Rosie nodded with a smile, another pause as Rosie's mind splurged out the next thing to come into her head, “I can’t believe it’s almost over…the story I mean,” She pondered aloud, “I want to know what happens, after it all I mean…I mean the book gave a general everyone picked up the pieces of their lives and moved on but…you can’t really just do that when it’s…real,” She said as she looked out on the crisp and clear setting, “Part of me is scared,”

“What of? Living your life in this world and for once not knowing what’s coming next?” Thorin said, a little laughter in his voice.

“What...Oh! Yeah, I guess, that too,” Rosie said.

“Why, what were you thinking?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he did so. A silence came from Rosie, then.

“I’m afraid that I’ll be taken back to my old world,” Was all she said which unfortunately only made Thorin more confused.

“But…” He wondered, “Isn’t that a good thing? You get to see your friends and family again and continue living your life with phones and internet, electricity and…no elves,” The last part was a joke but instead of making Rosie smile, it made her heart ache.

“No…well, yes, of course, seeing my friends and family again is…I mean….” Rosie chuckled slightly and shook her head, “I can’t even put into words how much I want to see them again and how much it would mean to me. But all that other stuff…means nothing really,”

“How can it mean nothing?” Thorin asked, amazed because clearly, he was impressed by the world Rosie had come from and secretly wanted to visit.

“I mean…to you it must look brilliant and everything, you know I get that,” Rosie sighed, lowering herself to the ground and hanging her feet over the edge, “But...,” She paused before it all came rushing out, “No expensive phone or life-changing app can ever give me the same feeling as being here with you guys, and I don’t mean that as in…you guys are the greatest living things on God's good green Earth, no, I mean…

“You guys just have more respect! You have the common curtsy that almost everyone back home lacks. You have no idea how rude they all are! They get so lost in their politics and businesses, that they forget how to simply smile and enjoy life. Everything to them is a competition! Who be first to like someone’s Instagram photo, who can win the argument in the comment section on a YouTube video, who can get more followers, more likes, more comments! We are a society driven by other people’s opinions! How is that fair?

“The reason I like you guys so much is that, instead of sitting around on your phones and occasionally showing something interesting to me, you sit down and communicate, with words! You tell funny stories and jokes and share moments that may not mean so much to you, but to me…their intimate and personal, because back home, they are so rare! They are moments that’ll I’ll remember forever, and I can promise you that,” When Rosie had finished her rant she found herself breathing rather heavily as a strong surge of emotion ran through her. Thorin was now sitting on her right, staring at her with a mixed look of admiration and contemplation.

Thorin felt as if Rosie was sharing very personal thoughts from deep within her mind, ones that had been brewing there for quite a while, being thought over and over until there was no more thinking to be done. And now, it was all coming tumbling out of her mouth and was hitting Thorin deep in the chest like a perfected, spherical ball for him to take in and think over just like Rosie had.

“Your world sounds both brilliant and brain-numbing,” He eventually said.

“Amen,” Rosie smiled, calmer after her outburst.

“I would like to live there but just take away all the people,” He smiled at the ridiculous thought.

“Well Thorin, we have more in common than you think,” Rosie chuckled rubbing her arms slightly where the cool air was nipping them. Thorin noticed this and immediately went to take his fur-lined coat off to give to her when he remembered that he too was only wearing a linen shirt and pants.

“And here I was thinking that you were so desperate to get back home,” Thorin continued.

“Well, I am…sort of. I just…want to spend more time here. I mean, it’s been great getting to know you all but that has been whilst we were on the quest. I want time to not just fully understand all of you, but to laugh and have fun with you guys, to just have a few days where I don’t care about anything except how big my smile is or how much love there is in my heart,” Rosie sighed, the words that were tumbling out of her mouth were bitterly true and that’s probably what hurt most about them.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin eventually said.

“For what?” Rosie sighed, a chuckle in her voice.

“Not knowing I guess. And it must be hard to feel as if your turning your back on your family and life for one which you’ve only been living in for a few months. But you can’t blame yourself for those feelings, they come from somewhere within that does not listen to your mind,” Thorin said shrugging his shoulders. Rosie felt her heart speed up as she realized that Thorin understood what she was saying and was not judging her for it. “Sometimes you just have to accept how you feel,” He paused, staring now intently at Rosie, “You can’t be afraid of it,” He said softer now, Rosie’s eyes were the most vivid blue, but they weren’t a harsh blue, they looked powdered and cloudy, like the color of the sea and texture of the sky, “You can’t be…afraid,” He found himself saying again, but it did not matter because he was getting closer to Rosie. Why was he getting closer to Rosie? Ah, because he is leaning in…but so is she. They are both leaning in towards each other, their eyes locked in a powerful stare. They’re so close now. Inches away. So, close.

Then, a sound could be heard, a quiet one, soft and gentle, but loud enough to be heard. A rumbling of feet on stone that was slowly filling the scene with noise. Thorin snapped out of his trance and jumped to his feet, shocking Rosie in the process.

“You hear that?” He whispered as she stood next to him, dusting off her trousers. She then stopped and squinted her eyes slightly as she too noticed the rumbling noise.

“Yes,” She said firmly before straightening out.

“Come on,” Thorin said turning around and striding quickly to the other side of the stone, “We must warn the others,” Rosie nodded before jogging over to him as they began making their descent back to the mountain.

What could have happened if it weren’t for the army of orcs heading their way, now forgotten.

TAG LIST: @britney8793

[thepandapopo]

Dancing with Fate: Chapter 2

Boop Boop Boop here we go!

Also, I couldnt help but put in some Cor memes in there… I love the headcannon that he likes to make puns with his own name.

Warnings: none

Eventually reader x Ignis

Chapters 1 / 2 

—-

Chapter 2: The Summoner meets the Summoned

“So this lady you’re taking me to… What’s she like?” You conversed good naturedly as you and Cor hiked up the grassy hill somewhere in the middle of a region you now knew as Duscae.

Cor turned his normally piercing gaze to you to study your countenance for a moment before softening, “Lunafreya-sama is the Oracle for all of Eos. She communicates directly with the Gods and heals those afflicted with the star scourge so she has a lot of burden resting on her shoulders.”

“Hmmm? Oh wow. So being an Oracle is just something one is born into then?”

Cor nodded in affirmation as he helped you over a particularly steep rock. “Lunafreya-sama has been doing this ever since she was a small child. She was to be married to Noctis - the crown prince of Insomnia - however the treaty meeting between the Empire and Insomnia was merely a facade for invasion.”

Through your week long journey with the man you now knew as the Marshall of the Crown Guard, you had spent a lot of time talking to the ruggedly handsome commander about the history of Eos - the name of the place you had landed this time - and the political going ons of the world. You learned about the late king Regis, the late Shield Clarus - both of whom were close friends with Cor - as well as the people in the important roles such as advisor and military personnel.

To be frank, it didn’t really surprise you that the land was currently embroiled in the midst of a war - you wouldn’t have been summoned here if everything was fine and dandy. The only question you still had remaining was what your purpose was to be in this world; and you hoped that this Lunafreya person could help you determine that.

“You’ll get to meet her soon, Y/N. We are not far from her current whereabouts; I suspect that we will arrive before nightfall as long as we keep pace.”

Nightfall. At first you did not understand exactly why the people were afraid of travelling around at night - that was, until you decided to go on a midnight bathroom break and wandered a little too far from the glowing runes of the haven you and Cor camped at.

The sight of a giant black puddle of goo materializing randomly before you on the floor was enough to freak you out (ah crap maybe you shouldn’t have eaten those strange looking mushrooms), but the towering Red Giant that climbed out of said puddle afterwards had you screeching to holy hell and blasting it uncerimoniously with a Blizzaga spell and lopping off its limbs with your scythe.

And that was how Cor learned you could fight.

It probably wasn’t the best way for your new found friend to find out about your talents, but you couldn’t care any less as you stayed trembling in Cor’s tight grip in the aftermath of battle (he had come dashing out of the tent in only his sweatpants after he heard your screams), cursing up a storm about how ungodly it was for monsters to materialize from the ground like things out of your nightmares.

So lost in your memories of the past few days, you did not even notice when your pace started to slow.

“Better keep up, Y/N, unless you fancy trekking in the dark with ‘giant puddles of black goo’ popping up left and right.” Came the playful banter that you had developed over the past few days with the Marshall.

“…You’re in-cor-rigible.”

“Your attitude only serves to en-cor-age it.”

“Oh shut up.”

XxxX

You weren’t expecting the lady in front of you.

Well, you were expecting to meet her, but you did not anticipate just how… Utterly freaking beautiful she would be.

You weren’t really one for sappy poetic descriptions, but Ifrit’s ass, her hair was like literal sunshine personified and her eyes like the crystal clear blue depths of the deepest lagoon. A perfectly pert nose sat flawlessly straight on an unblemished complexion, and the white wrap dress she wore accentuated the gentle curves of her body, but also hinted at a strength hidden beneath the demure mask she exuded.

It took you a moment before you realized you were gaping. Even though you were clearly standing in the middle of a nearly dilibitated shack of a house, with cobwebs hanging from every corner and dust bunnies under every surface, the sheer radiance and confidence of the woman before you made you feel just as uncomfortably misplaced as if you had stood in the middle of a grand palace.

“Lunafreya-sama. This is Y/N. I believe that she is the one you summoned the other day when you made your pact with Titan.” Cor moved to stand protectively beside the young Oracle, whether out of instinct or intentionally, you couldn’t tell.

Floundering for a bit, you struggled to find your words. “Uhhh hi? Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

Sticking your hand out awkwardly in greeting, you jumped at the electric tingling of magic that flowed through your veins when Lunafreya grasped your fingers in a steady grip without hesitation.

The power gifted to you by the Gods absolutely sang in your blood at the contact.

Aquamarine eyes met yours and you couldn’t help the silly grin that spread across your face.

A kindred spirit.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Please, I ask that you skip the formalities with me and speak freely.”

You had always been very finely attuned to the emotions of others, and even though Lunafreya’s facial features betrayed nothing but pure strength, determination, and kindness, you couldn’t help but notice the loneliness of a young adult burdened with too much gleaming in the depths of her gaze.

Standing before you wasn’t some mortal goddess, but rather just a girl roughly your age who just wanted to have a friend during these difficult times.

“Well, in that case then,” you stood a little straighter, a new determination flaring in you to make friends with the steadfast soul gripping your hand, “I think we’ll get along just fine, Lu-chan.”

The smile you received in return could have put the sun to shame.

XxxX

“So, let me get this straight,” you rubbed at your throbbing temples, your head bowed over the newly cleaned table, “there’s some sort of prophecy that says the land will fall into darkness and the only way to save the world is if the Chosen one - who is actually your fiance, Noctis, crowned prince of Insomnia - garners the favor of the Six and then uses his power and the crystal to bring the light back?”

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon and the only light in the run down cabin came from the cheery fire crackling in the hearth. It was hours ago when Cor had made his introductions and you and Luna had become fast friends, bound together by ridiculous duties placed upon you by the Gods and the pressure of having fate balance on your shoulders.

Cor did not participate in the conversation, rather choosing to stand vigilantly by the door, his arms folded across a broad chest and katana sitting lax in his right hand.

“In a nutshell… Yes.” The blonde across from you nodded and began pouring out some tea from a thermos.

“Okay… Sooooooo, I assume that I’m supposed to help restore the light somehow after it disappears then.”

Frowning, you gratefully accepted your cup and took a sip of the scalding hot liquid, letting the warmth soothe your throat as heat traveled down your neck and into your belly.

“Technically… That is correct. But how you do that, I am not quite sure.”

Lunafreya sat quietly with her porcelain hands wrapped around her own mug as she stared into the rippling surface of her beverage. Her normally confident aura now dampened with insecurity and ambiguity, it was a stark difference to the confident girl you had met mere hours ago.

“Hey,” you said, interrupting the sombre mood that had fallen over the conversation. You reached out and cupped her hands in your own warm ones, throwing her a warm smile. “We’ll figure it out together. And even if we don’t, we’ll flounder our way through until the Fulgurian gets so fed up with us and decides to singe our butts.” You winked conspiringly and ignored the incredulous stare Cor was throwing you from his 'cool guy’ stance at the door.

Gods, even the peals of laughter spilling from Lunafreya sounded like the tinkling of the purest bells.

“You’re right, Y/N. We’ll figure it out the best way we know how.” The Oracle nodded as her giggling slowly died out, leaving a rosy flush on her porcelain cheeks. “For now though, what say we go curry the favor of a certain lightning god?”

XxxX

To say you and Luna had become fast friends would have been an understatement of the highest level. At some point, you were certain that Cor had begun feeling somewhat like a father chaperone who had to constantly remind you two that this was 'a serious mission’ and you had 'no time to fool around’, but the softening of his usual steel blue gaze as he chided you and Luna time and time again betrayed the fondness and relief that the Oracle had finally found a friend with whom she could be herself.

Waving your hands around animatedly, you plowed through the almost unladylike snorting of your new friend, completely engrossed in telling your story.

“Yeah! It was unbelievable! And so there he was, dressed up in this baggy, ridiculous purple monstrosity, and a freaking blonde wig to boot- and Don Corneo ends up picking him! I mean, can you believe it? The male cross dresser beating out the two actual females???”

By now, Luna had tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks and was clutching at her stomach gasping for air.

“I’m telling you, Lu-chan. It’s not fair how some men can look even more beautiful dressed up in woman’s clothing than some woman can themselves!”

“I think,” Luna giggled, “you’d have to have some really outstanding features. In my opinion, it’s the eyes that really seal the deal.”

“Eyes, huh? I think I’d probably have to agree with you there…” You trailed off dramatically and wiggled your eyebrows suggestively in Cor’s direction, successfully setting Luna off into another fit of laughter, only this time with you joining her.

Up ahead of you, Cor continued trudging onwards through the thicket, intent on completely blocking out any potentially mentally scarring dialogue you chose to share with the Oracle.

He very nearly let out a sigh of relief when your little group neared a large blackened tree hidden within the confines of large, imposing walls of jagged rock.

“Lunafreya-sama… Is this the location you were looking for?” Cor inquired, surveying the area for any signs of enemies or potential lurkers. Once satisfied with his quick sweep, he allowed himself to fall into a more relaxed stance and waited for a response to his question.

Stepping forward, Luna summoned her trident and slowly made her way towards the tree. “I think so. I can feel the presence of Ramuh greatest here.” Placing a pale hand against the scorched bark, the stark contrast between the blackened trunk and Luna’s pale skin only served to remind you of the disparity between you mortals and the God you were about to entreaty.

“I suppose this is now or never. Did you need me to help you with anything, Lu-chan?” You asked honestly, more than willing to lend a hand to your friend. You were no stranger to calling upon the Six - in dire pinches, you had summoned them before and borrowed their power (after all, you were doing their bidding so it was only fair you could borrow a little oomph here and there), but from the way Luna and Cor had spoken about them, you got the feeling that the Gods did not play as large a part in this world as they did others; most likely preferring to stay out of the squabbles of mortals and only taking action when the world was being threatened.

Smiling reassuringly at you, Luna shook her head, her blonde bangs swaying from side to side, briefly obscuring her slightly nervous gaze.

“I think I’ll be okay. I have to do this myself; it is my duty as the Oracle to support the Chosen King, after all.” White knuckles curled tightly around the staff of the trident in an effort to hide the apprehension of the task at hand.

Giving Luna an encouraging nod, you and Cor slowly backed up as far as you could while also being near enough to jump in if anything went wrong.

“She will be fine,” your eyes turned to the Marshall standing next to you, his large hand gripping your shoulder comfortingly. “She has been preparing for this her entire life. No one can walk this path but her, and the only thing we can do is follow behind and push her to persevere and fulfill the role she was born to do.”

Turning your gaze back to the task at hand, you watched as Luna knelt at the base of the tree, her hands knotted together in prayer around her trident which had begun to glow and bathe the enclosure in a soft white light.

“Oh mighty Astrals above, I ask that you answer my calls and grant me audience with Ramuh.”

You should have anticipated the earth shattering bolt of lightning that struck the already blackened tree in response to the Oracle’s summons, but you felt your body jump a little anyways. Had it not been for Cor’s steady hand on your right shoulder, you probably would have unconsciously summoned your weapon on instinct.

“God of thunder and lightning, I beseech you enter into this covenant that the king might reclaim the stone and restore light to Eos!”

Despite the howling winds that had begun to buffet the region, Luna’s voice rang out clear and powerful, the determination behind her words stronger than the toughest steel and cutting cleaner than the sharpest blade.

The menacing clouds that had gathered in the sky swirled ominously above you as rain began pelting the ground. Shielding your face from the stray debris caught up in the gusts, you blinked rapidly to clear your vision of the water trickling down from your now soaking hair.

“Who summons me?”

Oh boy. You had heard that voice before. Turning your gaze heavenward, you felt your heart rate speed up drastically as the once fluffy pockets of moisture floating in the sky began twisting and shaping into a very familiar, tell tale beard.

“It is I, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Oracle to the land of Eos and the Chosen King Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

Standing tall and meeting the gaze of the Fulgurian unflinchingly, Luna’s features settled themselves into a look of determination and confidence reminiscent of the impression you had of her when you were first introduced.

“You would seek to garner my aid for a King who has yet to prove his worth?”

Well, that certainly caught Luna off guard. From what she told you, Titan hadn’t really put up much of a fight, instead agreeing rather quickly to her pleas and saying that he would grant his blessing as long as Noctis could make it to him; she hadn’t really expected any of the Gods to question her prayer.

“Noctis is the Chosen One! I believe it with all my heart - he will fulfill the prophecy and walk down his predestined path!”

“Then you are yet naive, young Oracle. You ask that of a boy who has not yet come into a man. How can you promise a choice that is not yours to make?”

Cor shifted closer to you as the air began charging with electricity with the rising tension. You could feel the pin pricks of current dancing along your skin, lighting your nerves up and feeding the ball of anxiety growing in your gut.

Briefly, your eyes met determined yet frustrated blue orbs and your mind stuttered before grinding to a complete halt.

Suddenly, you were no longer standing in that small enclosure in the midst of a raging thunderstorm. Instead, you felt as though you were floating, your corporeal body non existent as your consciousness drifted in a place above the mortal world.

Looking down, you saw a small orange glow begin to grow larger and larger, until you realized that in actuality, you were falling with nothing to halt your descent.

Just as you were about to land face first into what you now recognized as a lively firepit, you ground to a halt and froze, the flames just licking the soles of your combat boots.

The low rumble of laughter and casual banter was what eventually roused your attention from the ground below you.

Looking around, you saw that you were in the middle of a camp ground. Four chairs circled the firepit and a decently large tent sat off to the side along with a small portable kitchen set.

What arrested your attention though, was the four men and one woman who populated the cozy scene.

Right off the bat, you recognized your own features on the woman who was curled up at the base of one of the chairs. You - well, imaginary you - were laughing merrily at the antics of a cute freckled blonde snapping away with a camera while a raven haired boy about the same age lay sprawled on the ground, after seemingly have taken a tumble. Beside you sat a large, hulking behemoth of a man with a striking eagle tattoo spanning across his broad, muscular back and arms.

Gladio. Your mind whispered, matching the description you had heard from Cor and Luna to the man lazing before you.

Then that must mean…

The blonde. Prompto.

The male on the floor. Noctis.

And the man sitting above you in the chair you were leaning against…

Tawny hair spiked up in front and sea foam eyes that could pierce with the simplest of gazes. You couldn’t help but notice how utterly handsome Ignis Scientia, advisor to the crown, was sitting with his right leg casually thrown over his left, an empty can labelled 'Ebony’ dangling loosely in his right hand.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when imaginary you, Ignis, and Gladio burst out into laughter once again when Prompto snapped a particularly embarassing photo of Noctis.

The unadulterated warmth and pure happiness that emanated from the scene was overwhelming. You felt something inside your chest twist achingly as your eyes began to burn with unshed tears.

Gods, you were going to love these boys so damn much.

You hadn’t even met Prince Noctis and his entourage yet, but you knew without a doubt from the expression on imaginary you, that the bonds you would form with them would be nigh unbreakable, yourself entirely willing to sacrifice anything to see them smile.

The full heart and giddy lightness in your chest were emotions that did not belong to you. Happiness, contentment, peace, unfaltering love… these were all emotions that you hadn’t felt for a long time, but were resonating so strongly from your other self that you couldn’t help the wistful longing that crept into your soul. It had been so long since you felt those kinds of emotions…. With your nomadic lifestyle, it was difficult to form deep emotional attachments to people; at best, you could become friends with them before your fate ripped you from that world and tossed you into a completely new one. But this… This scene before you… Six above, you wanted it.

“This is what you could have… But are you ready to pay the price?”

“Who’s there?” Your long hair whipped at your neck as you looked wildly around, trying to locate the source of the voice.

“You know who I am, little one.”

The image before you halted as if someone had pressed pause on a remote. Slowly, frost began to gather at the base of the camping chairs and creep up the legs, coiling around like a snake searching for its victim. The air suddenly dropping several degrees, you could see your breath coming out in small puffs of fog as your body started to shiver involuntarily.

“Shiva…”

“I ask you once more: are you prepared to protect this future? Or will you let this thread slip through your fingertips and allow fate to go unhindered?”

By now, everything and everyone around the fire was coated in a thin layer of frost, as if frozen for eternity in the confines of a snow globe. Their cold, lifeless eyes stared blankly at each other mid conversation and the hollowness made your stomach churn and chest constrict.

You had to protect these boys.

Making your decision, you squared your shoulders and proclaimed in a steady voice, “Whatever needs to be done… I will pay the price.” Come hell or high water.

“So it shall be. Go, Y/N, and seek out his majesty and deliver him to Altissia where you will meet the Hydraean. However, be forewarned that though you have chosen to weave your thread with fate, when the time comes, you will only be able to save one.”

“One?? One what? One thread? One person? What-”

“You ask questions whose answers have yet to be decided. Go ack now to the Oracle and offer your guidance to the Chosen King.”

A chilly gust of wind blew through the scene before you, dispersing the images in a mist as if it had never existed to begin with.

Then you were falling again without warning, except this time you could feel your consciousness quickly fading as your body plummeted.

Right as your awareness was about to blink out, you felt the wind rushing past you carry the quietest of whispers.

“I pray that you succeed, little one. Please protect Lunafreya and the future of all.”

XxxX

Suddenly, you were back in the clearing with Luna and Cor, the rain still pelting your skin furiously and with every passing second, increasing your likeness to that of a drowned chocobo.

“Have you no answer for me?”

The howling of the wind screamed furiously around you as the storm swelled in intensity. Luna leaned heavily on her trident, her back hunched and her hair, long since blown free from her usual braided hairstyle, whipping around her like an angry halo.

“He will fulfill his duties and walk his path without hesitation. I believe in him. I believe in the King that will be Noctis Lucis Caelum!”

“Once again, you give empty promises.”

“Then I will go!” Both your companions whipped their heads towards you with a startled expression.

Fighting the fierce gusts, you urged your body forward and stood tall, facing the Fulgurian in all his glory. Ignoring Luna’s wide eyed expression, you reminded yourself that you were brought into this world for a reason.

Ancient eyes fell to your insignificant figure before narrowing in recognition.

“And what can you do, little one? You, whom have traveled worlds and toy with destiny; what can you promise?”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you were relieved when your voice came out unwavering.

“I will accompany Noctis Lucis Caelum and ensure that he chooses his path correctly! After all, it was you and your brothers and sisters who gifted me the powers to weave the threads of fate new again. I will fulfill my duty just as the Oracle will continue beseeching the Astrals to guarantee the restoration of light after the darkness.”

At your proclamation, the eerie silence that filled the area in the sudden absence of wind almost seemed to make your ears buzz. The only sounds were the now soft pitter patter of rain droplets hitting the soft saturated earth and the greenery that grew from it.

It felt like an eternity had passed before a giant weathered hand reached down from the sky and lightly touched the blackened tree, splitting it in two with a burst of lighting magic that had you stepping back from the recoil. When you opened your eyes again, you were surprised to see a small ivory tree sprouting right where the crack on the now absent split oak would have been.

“Very well, I shall grant the King my aid. If he is indeed the Chosen, his worth shall be judged once he lays his hand upon this sacred tree.”

Fading with the trickling of rain drops, the looming figure of the Astral slowly disappeared once more into the overcast sky, eventually giving way to stray rays of sunlight that coaxed the wildlife back into a symphony of life.

It took a couple of ragged breaths before your mind caught up with the severity of your words and you collapsed to your knees.

Oh god, oh god. Why did you say that? How could you make a promise when you literally had no idea what the fuck you were doing? Jesus fuc-

“Thank you.” The scent of sylleblossoms enveloped you; strong warm arms clasping you in a tight embrace starkly contrasting the cold droplets of water dripping down your neck from Luna’s hair.

“Thank you… for believing in Noctis-sama… and me.”

Pulling back slightly, you met Luna’s soft gaze with your own panicked eyes. Already, you could feel the flushing warmth of magic flowing through your system; belatedly, a part of your mind registered that Luna was performing a calming spell on you, whether for your benefit or for her distraction, you couldn’t tell.

“I… you’re welcome.” You finished lamely, hands dropping uselessly to your sides.

“You did well,” you jumped at the sound of Cor’s voice as he stepped up from behind you. You had almost forgotten that the Marshall was still there. “It takes a lot of courage to step up and take on burdens that were never yours to begin with. You have my gratitude as well. Whatever you need, I will do my best to provide as thanks for lending your strength to my king.” He ruffled your air affectionately before retreating back.

“Me too,” Luna chimed as you turned to her once again, “I know now that my resolve isn’t enough to convince the Astrals, so I will be better prepared for when I face Leviathan. You won’t always be here to save the day for me so I need to learn to stand on my own.”

You caught Luna’s hands in your own, concentrating your gaze on the ground and desperately trying to keep your tears at bay. You were terrified of the future. You had no idea where you were going to go, or what you were going to do; but you knew that you would be parting with the first friends that you had made in this unfamiliar world. 

However, just knowing that they believed in you and were drawing from your courage to walk their own paths made your chest swell with pride and determination.

You were going to do this, whether you knew how to or not.

Gathering your resolve, you ignored your trembling hands and flashed your companions the biggest megawatt smile you could muster.

“Well then, I don’t suppose you guys could start by helping me get a working cell phone?”

—-

Urk. I dislike the ending to this chapter. I’ll come back eventually and edit it. For now though, I just wanted to get this out.

Previous Chapter

[thorne93]

Insulting

Prompt: Imagine Constantine meeting your boyfriend and finding him utterly ridiculous and boring. He even teases you about it and makes fun of him which genuinely pisses you off and it leads to a serious argument. John tells you that you should be with a smarter man and it all ends in an angry kiss between the two of you. ( @keanu-c-reeves and @theartofimagining13)

Word Count: 1749

Warning: verbal fight, anger, cheating, language

Note: First Constantine fic. I love Keanu....Just..a note, lol. Beta’d by my other half @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please@superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling 

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

“Thanks for dinner,” you said sweetly as you put your hair behind your ear, walking down the sidewalk, as a chill swept through the air, a sign that autumn was gaining power.

“Anytime,” Ryan noted with a smile as he walked beside you, looking handsome in a dark long coat and sensible scarf. He could certainly afford to look dapper on a CFO salary. “I’m glad I got to see you this week,” he remarked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy with meetings and work and deadlines…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you assured, the two of you still strolling side by side. You glanced up, for some unknown reason and saw the street you were on and stopped dead in your tracks. “Oh, hey, would you care if we stopped in on my friend? I’d love for you to meet him.”

“You mean Constantine?” he asked, recalling the hundreds of times you’d brought up your best friend, the guy you’d known for what seemed like ages.

“That’s the one. Please? It would mean a lot,” you nearly begged with puppy dog eyes. “We’ve been going out for three months. I think it’s time.”

He seemed to hesitate for just a moment before nodding his head. “Alright. Sure. Let’s go see this infamous Constantine.”

Beaming at him and hooking your arm through his, you showed him to the apartment. Knocking on the dingy door, only to be greeted by the best man you’d ever known -- John Constantine, clad in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black tie, and black suit pants. He was your rock. There for you through thick and thin. He was a bit of a drunk, a bit of an ass, but a really good guy deep down, he just had a funny way of showing it.

“Y/N, kind of late for a house call,” he greeted, his dry tone so familiar to you that you could probably recite what he would say.

“Not a house call, Constantine. I want you to meet someone!” you said with a wide grin.

His eyes went from yours to your boyfriend. The look of total disdain swirling into his dark eyes as he assessed the man on your arm.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes sliding back to yours, his lip slightly curling up in disgust.

“Because he’s my boyfriend. I told you about him,” you reminded in a kind tone.

“Ah, right, the glorified accountant. Come on in,” he offered with a taste of sarcasm as gestured while he opened the door wider and stepped to the side.

“Thank you,” you kindly said. No matter how rude Constantine was, no matter how cruel, or mean, or apathetic, or sarcastic he ever got, you always countered it with a full on ray of sunshine, refusing to be anything but positive around him, he already had it hard enough as it was.

“So Constantine, this is Ryan. Ryan this is Constantine, or John but--”

“But don’t ever call me John,” he cut you off, looking directly at Ryan, and you could swear he flinched.

“Oh, okay. No problem. Nice to meet you, Constantine. Any friend of Y/N…” he trailed off, holding out his hand for John to shake it, but John just looked at it as if it were leftover scraps. Utterly uninterested and unappealing. Instead, he reached over onto his table, grabbed a cigarette, and lit up, forcing Ryan to awkwardly drop his hand and shove it into his pocket.

“What do you do for a living, Constantine?” Ryan asked, trying to get conversation going.

“I work,” he responded in a short, clipped tone before taking a hit of the cigarette.

“Uh, yes, but I meant what do you do for--”

“Hey, you want a drink?” Constantine asked, interrupting yet again. “You look like you could use a drink. Let me get you one.” He pretended to be kind and polite for a moment before going to his dingy kitchen, pulling out two small glasses, pouring the scotch, and then brought them back. One for you and Ryan, and his was already half empty on the small table where he’d been leaning. The three of you sat down at the table.

“So, you work with numbers, huh?” John asked before taking another puff, letting the cigarette rest between his lips as he eyed your boyfriend. “Must just be a fucking thrill.”

“John,” you chastised lightly.

Ryan eyed you for a moment before peeling them off of you to look at your friend. “Uh, yes. I’m a CFO for Leaflin and Co. It makes pretty good money and--”

“Something you can’t take with you when you die.”

Ryan frowned and leaned forward a tad, as if he hadn’t heard John. “Beg your pardon?”

“Money. You think you can take that shit with you when you die? Any of your thousands or millions? You think any of that matters when you’re in Hell with demons clawing at your eyes and fire setting your skin ablaze for eternity?” John was leaning closer now, his tone more harsh, more serious than it had been. When his rant was done, he took another puff and leaned back.

“I..I don’t think I follow,” Ryan meekly said.

“No, of course you don’t,” John remarked, looking down, ashing his cigarette into the ashtray you’d gotten him about five years ago as a Christmas gift.  “How did you wrangle this one up, Y/N?”

The three of you talked about how you met Ryan and a little more about what Ryan was interested in, and what you two did together on your dates, hoping maybe he’d warm up to him.

“Really, Y/N? This is him? This is the guy you’ve been telling me about? I hate to break it to you, but he’s another money hungry, trophy wife hunter.”

“John,” you chided again. He’d only ever met one of your other boyfriends and this is why you didn’t introduce them. Because he always behaved like an ass.

His dark brown orbs shot over to you. “What? I’m just saying. You could do better.”

“I’ll have you know I care very much for Y/N,” Ryan responded.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but she could do a hell of a lot better than some dude in a suit that will either end up with a coke habit, fuck his secretary when you tire of her, or embezzle so much money you become filthy rich, giving Y/N a life she never dreamed of just to have it all ripped away by feds because you were too fucking stupid to keep it hidden.” He leaned forward, a satisfied smirk on his face as he stared intensely at your boyfriend. “Am I in the ballpark, ace?”

“I don’t have to stand for this,” Ryan said as he stood up, angry.

“Wait, Ryan. Don’t go,” you requested.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N. Some company you keep,” he remarked, glancing between you and Constantine, before storming out.

Constantine got up and poured himself another drink.

“What the hell? Why did you do that?” you asked, standing up.

“He’s a douche.” He got done pouring the drink, setting the bottle down before looking at you. “I did you a favor.”

“What is so wrong with him?” you demanded, your kindness slipping away, desperation in your voice.

“Nothing, if you like the absolute mundane,” he responded.

“Don’t be a dick, John. At least I have someone,” you said, a bit of exhaustion in your voice. You always wondered if he was a bitter ass because he was alone at night. “You just want me to be alone like you.”

“If my choices were between that--” he pointed at the door where Ryan had exited just moments ago--”and no one, I’d pick nothing, every time.” His smugness was nearly irritating as it saturated the atmosphere between you two.

“What is so wrong with wanting normal?” you asked, your hands on your hips as you stood before him.

John rolled his eyes. “Because you’re not normal. Because you deserve someone smart, and frankly more worth your time.”

Your eyebrows shot up, wondering where this concerned attitude was coming from. For years, you assumed John could care less who you were with. But sometimes you wondered if the reason he acted the way he did about all of your boyfriends or dates was because….he wanted to be one. And his actions and words now were merely enforcing that.

“Oh? And where do you suppose I find someone who is so worthy of such a thing?” you inquired, your sarcasm heavy as you crossed your arms. Seeing what his answer would be was a mystery to you.

“I don’t know. But it’s not him,” he answered, his eyes down, looking at his cigarette.

You shook your head, a small, humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Coward. You’re so god damn afraid to feel and let someone in, you’d rather just be alone and miserable than put any risk in being happy.”

He was taking a sip of his drink as you spoke. When you were done, he slammed the glass on the table, amber liquid splashing out of the side and spilling onto his fingers. “I’m a coward?” he demanded, standing up and getting in your face. “I’m not afraid of a damn thing. You're the one who would rather be with anyone than…” He trailed off, his eyes slowly drifting from your face, the words hanging in the air between you two.

“Than what, John?” you wondered, your voice barely above a whisper, praying and hoping he’d just say what the fuck was on his mind for once.

He muttered a “fuck it” quickly and quietly before his hands flashed to the sides of your head and his lips crashed on yours, the sensation lighting you up from within. Every nerve felt awakened has his mouth hungrily molded around yours and you melted into his form, kissing back with as much fervor. The heated moment ended, both of you panting slightly.

“Than risk being happy with me,” he breathed, his eyes closed as the two of you rested your foreheads against each other.

“It’s not the happiness I’m afraid of,” you admitted quietly.

“Let’s scare the shit out of ourselves, then,” he suggested, his mouth finding yours again, both of you knowing exactly what you wanted. Knowing that you’d rather risk it all for each other, than not at all.

[sethmurfie-blog]

BETRAYAL - [Feb. 10, 1:07 a.m.]

CALEB MURFIE I WILL FUCKING END YOU. I. WILL—

FUCK. GOD FUCKING DAMNIT CALEB.

ALRIGHT. HERE'S WHAT OCCURRED.

BEFORE ME AND CALEB HEADED OUT TO THE MASQUERADE CRAWL, I JUST HAD TO FIND HIM BECAUSE HE'D TOLD ME TO MEET UP BY THE FRONT DOOR AT A CERTAIN TIME. WELL HE ENDS UP BEING NOWHERE TO BE FOUND, SO I CALL HIS NAME AND DECIDE TO PUT MY COAT ON, MY MASQUERADE MASK SITTING SAFELY WITHIN THE POCKET IN MY COAT READY FOR USE, AND I WANDER ABOUT THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

"CALEB?" I LOOK THIS WAY AND THAT, BARELY DETECTING A THING AMONG THE DARK HOUSES AND MOON-COVERED FROST. "CALEB! CALEB WHERE ARE—"

SUDDENLY I CEASE UPON APPROACHING A FIELD. I HEAR AN ODD NOISE. IN THE DISTANCE THERE'S SOME LARGE HILL THAT CHILDREN USE FOR SLEDDING ON OCCASION, BUT IT'S BARE AT THE MOMENT, EXCEPT FOR ICE AND SNOW. ALSO IN ADDITION THERE'S SOME KIND OF WEIRD MOUND IN THE MIDDLE. PLUS MY EYES DRAG A LITTLE TO THE RIGHT, TO FIND CALEB, STANDING IN FRONT OF THE HILL, DRESSED IN FULL BALL REGALIA, AND JUST HOWLING UP AT IT. SCREAMING. MAKING NOISE LIKE WHAT A DOG WOULD MAKE, BUT MORE PAINED. SOUNDING JUST INFURIATED. HE'S HOWLING AND HOWLING, ARMS STRETCHED BACK, ONE FOOT PLANTED FIRMLY IN DIRT AND SOUNDING LIKE HE'S TRYING TO HOWL ABOVE THE INCREASINGLY FREEZING WIND.

IT DOESN'T STOP UNTIL I RUN UP TO HIM: "CALEB! MY BOY WHAT EXACTLY IS IT THAT'S MASSIVELY DISTURBING YOU?" I GESTURE TOWARD THE HILL WHEN CALEB TURNS, AVIATORS NEARLY SLIPPING OFF FOR A JIFF BEFORE HE SEES ME AND GRINS. "seth, ready to go! come on let's head out!" AND HE PUSHES FORWARD, ACTING LIKE HE'S BEEN WAITING FOR ME. "come on come on let's hurry, ha-ha, bro we gotta hit this thing up and meet some ladies" AND HE'S PUSHING ME FORWARD AS HE USES THE OTHER HAND TO STRAIGHTEN HIS SUIT COLLAR. IT'S AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED. AND I GUESS, NOTHING HAD.

SO BEFORE I KNOW IT WE HEAD INTO WHAT I RECOGNIZE AS ESSENTIALLY A DIMLY LIT CAFETERIA THAT'S BEEN REPURPOSED WITH STREAMERS AND, IN THE CENTER, THERE HANGS AN UTTERLY HORRIFYING GIGANTIC PAPER MACHÉ MASK WITH CREPE PAPER EYES THAT STARED AT EVERYONE DULLY, AND OUT OF THE MOUTH THERE WAS SOME KIND OF SPECIAL FOUNTAIN ATTACHED SO THAT IT WAS JUST DROOLING RAW HAMBURGER MEAT ON ANYONE WHO DARED TO STEP UNDERNEATH. TO COPE WITH THE HORROR-RAMA OF ATTENDING PARTIES WITH A CERTAIN CALEB, I'D BROUGHT ALONG SOME BOWLING PINS WHICH I GOT BUSY DECORATING WITH ANCIENT ANIMALISTIC CALLIGRAPHY AS WE WALKED THROUGH THE SEA OF MASKS. I SUDDENLY WISHED THAT PORRIDGE WAS HERE AS SHE WOULD SEE THE KRATAGANA THAT I'VE INCORPORATED INTO MY BOWLING PIN CALLIGRAPHY AND WHICH I'VE BEEN LEARNING IN ORDER TO I WOULDN'T SAY IMPRESS HER BUT YEAH CERTAINLY TO MAKE HER LIKE ME. ANYWAY THE HAMBURGER MASK WAS REALLY STARTING TO GIVE ME A THRILL WHEN CALEB BUMPED INTO ME AND MADE ME FORCE A MISTAKE ONTO MY BOWLING PIN! "CALEB!" I SAID, AND TURNED TO HIM.

"sorry, dude, jeez. wait—seth?"

"YES OBVIOUSLY WHO ELSE COULD IT BE."

"oh dude sorry. i straight-up didn't recognize you."

ALRIGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS HE HADN'T REALLY LOOKED AT ME THEN, OR NOTICED ME AS WE ENTERED BECAUSE I'D ALREADY TAKEN THE MASK OUT OF MY POCKET AND PUT IT UP UPON MY FACE, BUT CALEB WAS SO TIRELESSLY DISTRACTED.

"ALRIGHT WELL YOU SAID I HAD TO WEAR A MASK FOR A MASQUERADE BALL."

"well mission accomplished, dude. you're kinda unrecognizable. nice."

HE PATTED ME ON THE BACK BEFORE WALKING AWAY AND I SUPPOSE THIS WAS A COMPLIMENT THOUGH REALLY I WASN'T SURE AT ALL BUT ALL THOUGHTS CAME TO A SCREECHING HALT AS MORE AND MORE PEOPLE STARTED CROWDING ALL OVER INTO THE PLACE, PEOPLE MOVING THIS WAY AND THAT AND SHOVING ME LEFT AND RIGHT.

"AH! 'SCUSE ME. 'SCUSE ME. APOLOGIES." I WAS TRYING TO KEEP HOLD ON THE BOWLING-PIN CALLIGRAPHY WHILE ELBOWS WERE JUST BEING BUMPED ALL OVER. "'SCU—OW. 'SCU—GEE! 'SCUSE ME, 'SCUSE—SCUSE ME!" THIS WAS BECOMING ABSURD. "WHY IS EVERYONE—"

AND SUDDENLY I FOUND MYSELF FILLING WITH STRANGE FLUIDS AND I THOUGHT MY ASS WAS ABOUT TO RAPTURE BUT REALLY THE REALITY WAS THAT PEOPLE HAD MADE A CIRCLE AROUND—A WOMAN.

WELL—WELL SHE JUST STOOD THERE, HOLDING UP AN UMBRELLA THAT HAD SHARDS OF GLASS ALL OVER IT, AND EXTENDING FROM BELOW THE 'BRELLA WERE THESE LONG DARK BLUE SLEVELETS WHICH COVERED UP HER FOREARM-TO-FINGERTIP ON BOTH ARMS. THEY WERE LIKE SLEEVES THAT SHE'D ATTACHED TO THE UMBRELLA'S HANDLE. THEN SOMETHING UNMENTIONABLY BIZARRE HAPPENED.

I JUST FELT A WAVE OF ALL OF MY MEMORIES FROM THE PAST COUPLE YEARS JUST FUCKING WASH OVER AND UNDER MY BRAIN. I THOUGHT OF NEARLY GETTING ARRESTED BY THE BOLWING ALLEY IN OUR TOWN; I THOUGHT OF BEING TACKILY FUCKED ASSWISE BY CALEB'S DEARLY DEPARTED DOG; I THOUGHT OF CHATTING ON THAT SITE OMEGLE, WHERE YOU CHAT WITH ANONYMOUS STRANGERS WHO HAVE THE SAME INTERESTS AS YOU, AND TELLING SOME OMEGLE STRANGER ABOUT MY GRANDMA AND HOW'D SHE GIVEN ME A KEYCHAIN AND THEN TAUGHT ME THE PIN-CALLIGRAPHY I WAS DOING RIGHT NOW AT THIS VERY MOMENT, AND ALSO TELLING THE STRANGER HOW MUCH MY GRANDMA HAD BASICALLY MEANT; I THOUGHT OF WATCHING AIRPLANES; I THOUGHT OF BARRY; I THOUGHT OF GOING TO CALEB'S DOG FESTIVAL; AND I THOUGHT OF ORANGE PEELS AND COFFEE SHOPS AND PLANETARIUMS AND TALENT SHOWS AND IN ALL OF IT IT JUST SEEMED THAT THESE LAST TWO YEARS WERE PUSHING ME AND PRODDING THE END OF A SWORD INTO MY BACK AND GETTING ME TO WALK THE PLANK TO JUMP OVERBOARD INTO THIS PARTICULAR, EXPECTING MOMENT.

WELL I JUST KEPT STANDING THERE. I MEAN IT WAS DARK, AND NOT EXACTLY EASY TO SEE THIS WOMAN ESPECIALLY UNDER THE MERCIFUL 'BRELLA, BUT I COULD TELL THAT SHE WORE SOME KIND OF BLUE MASK WITH LONG BLACK STRIPES.

WELL I WAS SURE THIS WAS NO ONE I KNEW. SHE WAS TOO BEAUTIFUL.

“ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ. ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ. ᴇᴇ-ᴇᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ.”

I TURNED. WHAT WAS THAT?

"ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇᴇᴇɴɪᴇ."

WHAT THE—

YET BEFORE I COULD INVESTIGATE I NOTICED THAT THE WOMAN WAS STILL STANDING THERE, SILENT, PLUS I REALIZED THAT THE REASON PEOPLE WERE GATHERED OVER AND AROUND HER WAS BECAUSE SHE WAS STANDING RIGHT UNDERNEATH THE GIANT MACHÉ MASK! AND NO ONE, IT BECAME CLEAR, WAS TELLING HER BECAUSE THEY WERE SO AMUSED AT WATCHING THE RAW BURGER MEAT DROOP ALL OVER HER UMBRELA OF SHARDS. WELL THIS IS SOMETHING THAT WOULD NORMALLY THRILL ME TO THE CORE BUT SOMEHOW, SOMEWHERE LYING WITHIN MY DEEP VENTRICLE, I GOT THIS INSTINCT THAT SHE WOULD NOT LIKE IT. I DON'T KNOW WHY.

I WAS STILL WORKING ON MY BOWLING-PIN CALLIGRAPHY WHEN I JUST TUCKED THE PIN UNDER MY RIGHT ARM, WHERE IT STUCK OUT WITH THE CALLIGRAPHY STILL SOMEWHAT NOTICEABLE, AND—I DON’T KNOW—I WALKED UP TO THIS WOMAN.

“ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ.”

WHAT THE FUCK I STILL HADN'T FIGURED OUT WHO WAS SAYING THAT, BUT SUDDENLY MY HEAD BUMPED INTO SOMETHING, AND IT WAS THE LITTLE UMBRELLA. I STOPPED, SWAYING A BIT IN THE DARKNESS AND LOOKING UPWARD. PEOPLE WERE STIFLING GIGGLES, CLEARLY WANTING THE MEAT-FEST TO GO UNABASHEDLY ON, BUT I TOOK IN A SILENT BREATH, AND REACHED OUT MY LEFT HAND TO GENTLY TOUCH THE WOMAN'S SHOULDER. SHE OF COURSE FLICKED HER HEAD AND CLENCHED HER MUSCLES FOR A SECOND, BUT THEN RELAXED AFTER LOOKING SLIGHTLY DOWNWARD AND TO HER LEFT, STILL ON ME.

CLEARLY I WASN'T SURE HOW THIS SHOULD UNANIMOUSLY PROCEED. I JUST STAMPED MY FOOT GENTLY FOR A SEC AND SORT OF PULLED HER AWAY BY THE ARM. SHE FOLLOWED, THOUGH WAS STILL LOOKING AT ME—AT LEAST I THINK. HER EYES WERE INDEFINITELY OBSCURED.

I SILENTLY BREATHED IN AGAIN, AND, ONE HAND STILL ON HER FOREARM, USED THE OTHER TO MAKE A POINTING KIND OF MOTION UP.

SHE LOOKED ABOVE, THEN TURNED BEHIND HER, COMING OUT OF MY GRASP IN THE PROCESS. WELL THE WOMAN'S BLUE MASK TITLED BACK AS SHE SAW THE HAMBURGER MEAT DRIPPING LAVISLHY ALL OVER THE GROUND, AND IT TOOK HER A SECOND BUT SUDDENLY SHE JUMPED A BIT UPON EXAMINING HER UMBRELLA. HER HEAD TURNED BACK TO ME, AND SHE POINTED TO THE 'BRELLA, THEN POINTED TO THE HAMBURGER FOUNTAIN, AND I NODDED, CONFIRMING THE WORST.

SHE LOOKED THEN HEAD ON AT ME. THEN SHE LOOKED AGAIN DOWN AND SLIGHTLY TO HER LEFT, STILL ON ME. THEN SHE LOOKED UP AGAIN, STEPPED FORWARD, PUT A HAND ON MY NECK AND KISSED ME.

“ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇɴɪᴇᴇᴇ.”

THE BOWLING PIN JUST DROPPED FROM UNDER MY RIGHT ARM BUT ACTUALLY DIDN'T 'CAUSE I CAUGHT IT, AND BEFORE ANY KIND OF THOUGHT COULD FORM IN MY HEAD AT WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING, MY LIPS WERE YANKED BACKWARD, AWAY FROM HERS AND MY ENTIRE BODY JUST GOT PULLED BY A MASS OF ARMS, AND I REACHED OUT A HAND TOWARD THE WOMAN BUT BEFORE I KNEW IT SHE WAS SWALLOWED AGAIN UP IN THE SEA OF MASKS. "H-HEY!" I SAID, BUT WAS DROWNED OUT BY ALL THE GUYS PULLING ME CHANTING “EENIE-EENIE-EEEEEENIE, WE FOUND OUR LITTLE WEEEEENIE!” AND I WRESTED MYSELF JUST FREE AND DEMANDED TO KNOW WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING BEFORE THE GUYS EXPLAINED THEY WERE A LOCAL GANG CALLED THE EENIE BOYS WHO JUST LOVE TO RUIN ROMANTIC SCENES, WELL AS SOMEONE WHO CAN APPRECIATE A GREAT GANG I SAID THAT THAT WAS FINE AND DANDY, AND THAT I RESPECTED THEIR GLORIOUS OUTREACH ALTHOUGH AFTER THEY WALKED OFF I TURNED THIS WAY AND THAT, TRYING NOW TO FIND THE WOMAN AGAIN. "HEY! HEY!" I CONTINUED SEARCHING. "HEY—" AND I BUMPED INTO SOMEONE. "HELLO GREETINGS ARE YOU—"

"what?"

"OH." IT WAS JUST CALEB. "CALEB HAVE YOU SEEN A—"

"brother, can't talk now." HE BEGAN WALKING OFF. "i think i just found a woman who -- i mean, i think i'm in luh—" SUDDENLY HE STOPPED, LIKE HE WAS REMEMBERING SOMETHING ABOUT ME, AND HE CORRECTED HIMSELF. "i mean, i think i've found someone by whom i've been cursed."

"EXCUSE ME?" MY EYES GREW WIDE. "CALEB THIS IS HIGHLY DANGEROU—"

"no no, man." HE PATTED MY SHOULDER GENTLY. "i want to be cursed. i mean i've been, um—" HE SIGHED. "—‘cursed' before but it was by the wrong person. but this girl i saw here at the ball, she's cursed me and i like it."

"OH."

WELL ALL OF SUDDEN, I SOMEHOW JUST FELT LIKE I UNDERSTOOD.

"ALRIGHT SO WHERE IS SHE?” I SAID. “OUGHTN'T WE TO LOCATE HER BODY FOR YOUR PERUSING PLEASURE."

"i-i'll find her! you can meet up with me later, turns out i didn't need the detector after all! whoo!"

"O-OKAY. OH YES BUT CALEB LISTEN I THINK I MAY HAVE JUST HAD MY FIRST KI—"

"alright, more later dude!" AND HE WAS GONE.

WELL, I JUST SLUMPED UP AGAINST A WALL. AND I SLID DOWN TO JUST SIT ON THE FLOOR. IT WAS MY HEAD AND IT WAS JUST FUCKING REELING. HAD I JUST BEEN CURSED AS WELL? EVEN THOUGH IT DOESN'T REALLY MAKE SENSE, I GUESS I SUDDENLY BECAME—I FELT A TWINGE OF—GOD FUCK I DON'T KNOW—MAYBE GUILT? BECAUSE IT WASN'T PORRIDGE THAT WAS CURSING ME, IT WAS THIS WOMAN. BUT SHE DIDN'T SEEM LIKE ANY KIND OF WITCH.

THE LOUD MUSIC CONTINUED AND I JUST SAT THERE. HOW—HOW CAN I—

THE SONG SUDDENLY ENDED BEFORE THE MUSIC TRANSITIONED THEN INTO SOMETHING MUCH MORE CALM. A SERENE SORT OF ELECTRONICA CHILLBOY SONG. AND I CONTINUED SITTING THERE, SIMPLY STARING AT THE MASSES OF PEOPLE. WHILE THE SLOW, SOOTHING TUNE PLAYED, ALLOWING ME TO FIND SOME FOOTING, METAPHORICALLY OF COURSE, THOUGH EVENTUALLY ALSO LITERALLY AS I, VERY SLOWLY, PUT A HAND ON THE WALL BEHIND ME AND PRESSED MYSELF UPWARD, AS THE CALM MUSIC STILL DRONED ONWARD. AND AFTER A LONG TIME I WAS FINALLY ON MY FEET, AND IN THE CALM HYMNAL I WANDERED THISAWAY. OUTSTANDING LIGHTS SHINING THROUGH AS A THING WAS FAINTLY HEARD: “EENIE EENIE EEENIE” AND I JUST WONDERED WHAT EXACT ROMANTIC SCENE THE EENIE BOYS WERE READY TO DEVASTATE NEXT, BUT STILL HEARING THE GROWING EENIE-ING, I STRETCHED MY HAND OUTWARD TO OPEN UP A DOOR AND STEP OUT INTO THE COLD AIR. THE BOWLING PIN JUST SHOOK UNDER MY RIGHT ARM, AND I TURNED TO LOOK IN AT THE HUGE GLASS PANE WHERE THE ORANGE AND WHITE LIGHTS SPRANG INGLORIOUSLY AND I HEARD THE MUFFLED SLOW TUNE AND THE EENIE BOY CHANTS. WELL I LOOKED ABOUT, SAYING "MAYBE THIS WILL F-F-FINALLY FIX THE SHAKING—"

I STOPPED. WHAT.

I SAW. I—I SAW CALEB. AND I SAW THIS WOMAN. THE WOMAN IN BLUE. IN BLUE AND IN BLACK. BLACK STRIPES, AND I SAW CALEB PUTTING A HAND OVER HER. HER ARM.

"ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ."

AND I KEPT STARING. NO.

"ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇᴇɴɪᴇ."

CALEB WAS LEANING FORWARD. CALEB, RESTING AN ARM ON HER WAIST. AND CALEB PRESSING HIS LIPS ON HERS.

"WHAT THE—!!"

“ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ, ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀɴɪᴇ!”

"C—C—”

“ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ!”

CALEB, PUTTING A HAND OVER HER MASK. CALEB, TAKING IT OFF SLOWLY. ME, DROPPING THE PIN IN THE SNOW AND GASPING INTENSELY WHEN I SEE THE EXTREMELY FAMILIAR EYES LOOK AT HIM SWEETLY.

"ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇɴɪᴇ-ᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇɴɪᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇ!!!!"

EENIE BOYS SWARM IN AS CALEB LOOKS AT THE FACE IN FRONT OF HIM AND HE RIPS OFF HIS AVIATORS AND SUDDENLY HIS EYES WIDEN AND HE STEPS BACK HORRIFIED, RECOGNIZING THE FACE OF THE INFAMOUS WITCH ONLY ONE MOMENT AFTER I DO. AND I SUDDENLY GET A BETTER LOOK OVER AT THE GLASS SHARDS ON HER UMBRELLA, AND SEE THAT THEY'RE THICK, AND CURVED. LIKE SHARDS OF A BOTTLE. HOW THE FUCK COULD I BE SO INDOLENTLY STUPID. OF FUCKING COURSE IT WAS—

“ᴇᴇɴɪᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇ!” THE EENIE BOYS GRAB CALEB AS HIS HEAD TURNS TO SUDDENLY SEE ME, HIS EYES SHOCKED AND WIDE AND LOOKING INTO MINE, AND HIM MOUTHING A "P" SOUND BEFORE HE GETS PULLED BACK.

“ᴇᴇEEEEEɴɪᴇ!” 

WELL GREAT.

GREAT. AT LEAST I HAVE NO REASON TO FEEL GUILT, RIGHT? HA, ISN'T THAT GREAT? NO REASON TO FEEL GUILT 'CAUSE IT'S THE SAME PERSON, ISN'T IT? PORRIDGE WAS THE UMBRELLA-WOMAN ALL ALONG. AND THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COULD ONLY REALLY LEAD TO ME FEELING PERFECLTY UPSTANDING AND GREAT AND REACTING LIKE SOMEONE WHO FEELS UTTERLY FANTASTIC, JUST COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY WONDERFUL.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" I SCREAMED BEFORE JUST RUNNING. BOWLING PIN LEFT AS IT'S LEFT BEHIND IN THE SNOWBANK.

"s-seth!"

ALRIGHT REALLY SO IT WAS MY UNDERSTANDING THAT CALEB HAS BEEN FINE, AND HE'S ALRIGHT, AND NOTHING'S BAD AND EVERYTHING'S GREAT SETH IS GREAT CALEB IS AWESOME AND MY BROTHER IS GREAT, AND THE DOG WAS GREAT, AND YOU KNOW WHAT I'M BEGINNING TO THINK CALEB WAS ACTUALLY FEELING A BURST OF INCREDIBLE ANGER WITHIN HIM EARLIER TONIGHT WHEN HE STOOD BEFORE THAT ICY HILL AND FUCKING HOWLED BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT EXACTLY THAT SORT OF FEELING WAS RUNNING UP THROUGH MY SOUL AS I JUST STOPPED AND FELL OVER BEFORE THE SAME ICE-COVERED HILL AND JUST FUCKING SCREAMED.

[justanotherwaywarddaughter]

Hell On Heels

Characters: Cas x Sister!Reader, Sam, Dean, and a bit of John

Word Count: 4443

Warnings: Sassy reader, Cas is an awkward little nugget, canon typical violence

Summary: This is part two to “Spread the Word Around– the Girl’s Back in Town”. The reader reveals a bit of her history. Meanwhile, Team Free Will, along with its newest member, set out to take on what should be a relatively easy case.  Things do not go as planned, which works to the benefit of a certain shy angel.

A/N: So this is long overdue. Sorry. It’s a bit disjointed because I started it and then stopped and worked on something else... Apologies for that. I started out with this imagine in mind, and it kinda grew from there. Italics are reader’s thoughts. Thinking of making this a series. Let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy! As always, thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Read Part 1 here.

The protesting creak of a nearby door coupled with the muted sound of feet thudding down the hallway pulled you from your midnight reverie. Making your way quietly to the open doorway of your room, you scanned the hallway for the source of the noises, your eyes landing on a retreating figure of over six feet. With an annoyed groan, you made you way closer to the hulking mass that was trying to sneak down the hall like a teenager after curfew.

Let’s play guess the idiot. Too tall to be Cas. Can’t tell if it’s Sam or Dean yet from this far away, though he’s stumbling, whoever he is. Most likely Dean, in from a night out that hopefully won’t make me an aunt.

“Have a good time, did ya, brother mine?” you asked with a smirk, switching on the overhead lights. At the sound of your voice, the figure spun, albeit clumsily, to see who made the noise. With one hand to his head and the other groping the wall for support, Sam took a less than elegant stumble backward.

“Y/N? What’re you doooin up ssso late?” he slurred with a bleary smile. Sam was apparently a happy drunk, you mused, shaking off the surprise of being met by your youngest brother rather than your oldest one. Moving toward you, the moose of a man began to teeter.

“Whoa, there, Sammy. Slow your roll. There’s no way I can pick you and me both up off of this floor if you go all timber on me,” you cautioned. “Let’s get your ass to bed. I’ll lecture you in the morning.”

“Mmmm’kay, Y/N. I’m ssleeepy anyway,” he said in an exaggerated whisper.

How much liquor does it even take to get Samsquatch here drunk? Dear Lord, I hate to even imagine.

You trailed a tromping Sam back to his room, made him take off his shoes before he got in bed, and sat the ibuprofen he kept in his nightstand out for him when he woke up.

Damn grown man needs to be told to take his shoes off before he gets in bed. How the hell did he even get this drunk? And how can a guy that hits his head on ceiling fans regularly look so much like a little kid?

Sam was snuggled under the covers with a peaceful look on his face. Cracking one eye open, he attempted to whisper again, “Y/N, why were you even up? Ssssssssomething wrong?”

And on that he chooses to have a little clarity. The man that didn’t even remember his head­­– not his feet– goes on the pillow has the sense about him to ask why I’m up at this ungodly hour. Figures. Intuitive little shit.

“Shut up, Sammy. You’re drunk. Go to sleep,” you grumbled, hating that your little brother, even in his inebriated state, had managed to see that something was wrong.

Sighing, you made your way back to your room and plopped down face-first on the bed. You’d had a lot of these nights lately.

I am normally not a philosophical person, but there’s something about randomly escaping hell that makes a person ponder a few things. It all started when I was born… Kidding. Kinda.

Mostly, you thought about what had gotten you to this point. As Dean often reminded people, hunters never got to be kids, and you were no exception. From the moment you’d been big enough to carry a sawed-off, you’d been sleuthing, shooting, and salting. That’s not to say you didn’t enjoy it– most of the time.

Despite growing up a hunter, you’d been relatively sheltered from heartache until your mom had passed. She went down in typical hunter fashion, sacrificing herself to kill the demon that had possessed her. I come by this hero complex honest.

You did the best you could after her death, giving her a hunter’s funeral in the sticks somewhere in Alabama. It was the first time you were truly alone, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Cue obligatory reckless streak.

Amidst said reckless streak, you’d come upon daddy dearest. Yes. None other than John Winchester. You’d planned to ignore him, laying low until you knocked off that vetala. Well, as per usual, things didn’t go as planned; one vetala turned out to be two, and you were in need of a little saving.  Enter John. He’d been on the same hunt­­– Shocker– and had come prepared. Curse you and your research, John Winchester. Needless to say, he saved your ass. What stung was that he had no clue who you were.

Well, as the whiskey got to flowing that night– Don’t judge me. I had a rough day. Whiskey is the grownup version of a blanky– so did the truth bombs. One right after the other. By the end of the night, you were both spent. He had a daughter. You had a near-death experience. I feel like we were pretty equal there. You know, on the whole shock factor thing. You agreed to stay in touch.

And so you did. You’d occasionally update each other on your cases, swapping information and tips, sharing about your lives and the years you’d missed together, and growing comfortable enough to joke around. It was all fine and dandy until your old man called you up for a little help on a case. Sam and Dean were in school, and he needed an extra pair of hands.

Probably just a couple of vamps, he said. Probably new changelings, he said. We’ll probably be done before lunch, he said. It’ll be easy, he said.

Turns out John was wrong. What he thought was a small nest– one, maybe two, tops– turned out to be about fifteen. Why they were all together and how they managed to tolerate each other is still a mystery.

Nest, my ass. Frigging hive is what it was.

You two gave it your damnedest. You held your own for a while, the quick movements of your machetes creating a steady rhythm of whooshing sounds  punctuated by the sickening crunch of metal on bone as they sliced through the air and hit their targets. The two of you moved in tandem, as though you’d been working together your whole life.

Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I suppose.

Things were going great. Until they weren’t. All it took was a slight hesitation; one small slip of the hand. You were down to the last two; one for each of you. You squared up to smaller of the two, leaving John with his more even match. The fights that ensued were anything but easy. The two of you were already exhausted, covered in blood, and running on fumes. To say you were less than sharp was more than fair. You were both sloppy, but you managed to get the job done.

You got all the way back to the impala, congratulating yourselves on a job well done, before you noticed the blood seeping through the left leg of John’s jeans. And, holy hell, was there a lot of it. Femoral artery injuries can be a bitch. Exsanguination is not a painful death, but it’s a slow one; a death that fills its victims with a sense of hopelessness.

No matter how tightly you compressed. No matter how many layers of bandages and fast food napkins and shirt hems you piled on. No matter how fast you drove. It didn’t make a difference. That was the palest you’d ever seen him, his head lulled over, his short, rapid breaths creating little puffs of fog on the window. Your first thought was about the boys. You thought, I can’t let them go through what I went through. They already lost their mom. What’ll happen to them?

In your muddled mind, there was only one valid course of action. You found the nearest crossroads and did what had to be done. You made a deal– his life for yours. And the hero complex rears its ugly head, yet again. Here’s to hoping Sam and Dean never find out. But, if we’re being honest here, I was pissed as he– well… You get the point. I was really mad when he ended up down under literally right after me. I mean, how is that fair? To him, to me, to the boys? Fate has a twisted sense of humor.

This hunt and the literal hell you’d gone through after plagued your dreams when you did sleep. 

When you couldn’t sleep, which was most of the time, you wondered who pulled you out of hell and why. At the same time, you were trying to adjust to life with your two hulking brothers and their ever so heavenly resident angel.  

My brain has too many tabs open. I even think about overthinking.

Sam and Dean were loud, obnoxious, and messy. The bunker had been their man cave until you came along, and they were still getting used to how the fairer sex preferred to live. You know, sans unpleasant aromas, constant nudity, and leftovers that could be mistaken for a science project. I know, I know. It’s a lot to ask. Apparently I’m high maintenance.

To add to your frustration, Cas would not speak to you. Would. Not. Do. It. He still popped in from time to time. He just never spoke to you.

Okay, buddy, I’m not sure what your definition of ‘later’ is, but it’s been like a month, and I still have no clue who this damn pizza guy is and what the hell he taught you. Am I allowed to cuss at a celestial being? Ah, well. Who cares? What are they gonna do, send me to hell?

You snorted at your own joke, noticing the time flashing on your alarm clock. It’s an acceptable time for a normal human being to be awake. I need coffee.

You padded down the hall to the kitchen, grumbling greetings at a half-asleep Dean. You sat down with your oversized mug of coffee– Ah, sweet nectar of life–and skimmed the local newspaper. Seeing an article detailing a possible serial killer that had targeted upper-class men in swanky bars, you sighed, thunking your coffee cup down on the scarred table. You read further into the article, which chronicled methodology– cracked chests, hearts squeezed to mush, and bodies drained down to the last pint.

This is our kind of weird. At least this one is close to home.

“Sam. Dean. Wake up. Rise and shine, boys!” you shouted from your seat.

“What the hell do you want at seven in the morning on a Saturday? This is my day off,” Dean grumbled as he entered the room. Sam, who had skipped his morning run– probably because of the massive hangover he had. No judgement. Just saying.– came in just moments after, his hair sticking up in wild tufts, eyes matted and sleepy.

“Do you have to be so loud? Let’s all use our inside voices today,” he suggested, moving to the coffee pot.

“I think I have something. It could be nothing, but it’s at our back door, so I’d rather be safe than sorry. Police are investigating a possible serial killer, but I’ve never heard of a serial killer that squeezes hearts and sucks blood just for shits and giggles,” you explained.

“We can think about it when we get there. We need see more of what’s going on before we jump to conclusions anyway,” Dean replied, leaning on the door jamb.

“Finally learn your lesson about being prepared, eh, Dean?” Sam mocked, wincing at the bitterness of the brew in his cup.

“I HAD THE DAMN SIREN I WOULD’VE BEEN FINE,” Dean insisted. Seeing Sam’s wince at his volume, he asked with a smug grin,” DOES MY YELLING BOTHER YOU?”

“Boys, boys. Settle down. If you keep this arguing up, I swear to you, you’ll regret it,” you cautioned, your lack of sleep causing your already thin patience to wane further.

“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do?” Dean tossed over his shoulder as he went to get his grab bag.

That is it. Last straw. Overgrown brats of brothers. You will rue the day you didn’t heed my words, Winchester. You asked for this.

Seeing your glare morph into a smirk, Sam must’ve known you were planning to make Dean pay in a big way, because he said, “You two are so much alike.”

“I know. It’s like we’re related or something,” you quipped, jumping up from the table to stash your go bag in Baby’s trunk.

How can two people make such a short car ride so unbearable?

From the second you shut the car doors– slammed, according to Dean– your brothers had been bickering. The music was too loud. The sound of Sam’s keyboard clicking was annoying. The heat was too hot. The air was too cold. Dean’s driving wasn’t up to par. The list goes on. Any attempts from you to referee were promptly shut down with a double brother glare.

Oh, Castiel, mighty angel of the Lord, with your majestic and fluffy wings, please, if it’s not too much trouble, CAN YOU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE AND USE YOUR PROFOUND BOND WITH DEAN TO MAKE HIM SHUT THE HELL UP? Thank you.

You praised the gods when you pulled up in front of the county courthouse, parallel parking on Main Street. Gee, thanks for the help, Cas. 

You stopped and spun around, taking in your surroundings. Blink and you’ll miss downtown.

Putting on your best confident I-belong-here-I’m-in-charge look, you strode purposefully through the door, approaching the sweet-looking old secretary sitting behind the front desk. “Hi there… Margery,” you said, reading her nametag. You flashed your forged credentials. “I’m Special Agent Page, and these are my associates, Agents Bonham and Plant. We’ve been called in to have a look at this series of murders you have. Could you please point me in the direction of some case files? We just need copies. We wouldn’t want to trouble you all. Be in your hair and all that.”

“Why, of course I will. Let me just grab those for you. It’s no trouble at all,” she said with a smile.

You twiddled your thumbs waiting for Margery to come back, hoping the bickering would hold off at least until you left the courthouse. No such luck. Apparently, Sam was too close to Dean and was breathing down his neck. Amidst their squabble, Cas decided to make an appearance, earning a muffled scream from you. Margery chose this moment to reappear.

“Weren’t there only three of you before?” she asked, beginning to look suspicious.

“Yes, ma’am, but this is our new trainee, Agent Jones. He was letting our supervisor know we’d arrived. Isn’t that right, Jones?” you replied, elbowing the angel in the ribs to cue his response.

You honest to God chose this moment to show up? Say something, dammit. Before she realizes we’re frauds and calls us on it.  It’s not that hard. Open your mouth. Use your words.

“That is correct,” he grumbled.

“I’ll just take those files from you. You should hear back from us within a few hours,” you said, prying the files from her still suspicious hands and making a beeline for the door.

“The next time you all pull something like that, I will end your lives, bring you back, and end them again. Am I clear?” you huffed, slamming the door to the impala, on purpose this time. Seeing Cas reluctantly slide in beside you, you addressed him. And you! I asked for your help earlier, and you left me high and dry. They are driving me insane in the membrane. Insane in the brain! Shit, now I have that song stuck in my head. Now see what you’ve done?

The car ride to a local diner was blissfully quiet. Apparently, death threats have a calming effect on this crowd. Duly noted.

After poring over the files Margery had been so kind as to give you, you all decided you were dealing with a lamia. You discussed the best means of disposal over your pie, ignoring the stares of the other patrons. Your rag tag little team had noodled out a tentative plan: you’d get all dolled up and go into the bar, look around, and signal the guys when you saw anything suspicious; one of the guys would act as bait, luring the lamia into a conveniently secluded alley, and the other two would be ready with a blessed knife and some rosemary, just in case. Sounds simple enough. I am gonna need some supplies though. I tell ya. I can’t even remember the last time I got all dolled up.

“Oh, brother mine!” Your sing-songy tone was bound to get on Dean’s nerves, but you needed a ride. “How much do you love me?”

“Depends on why you’re asking,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, it’s nothing major… I just need a ride to town. I have to grab a few things before we head back out for the hunt tonight,” you said sweetly, twirling a lock of hair around your finger, trying to look innocent. Okay. Cue puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” he huffed. “Let me get my keys. Sam! Ca–“ He cut off abruptly when Cas, ever ignorant of the concept of personal space, popped up comically close to Dean’s face. I thought I was your favorite Winchester? Too bad, angel boy. We could’ve had some fun.

Apparently Cas hadn’t headed your warnings to stay out of your head. He turned a deep crimson, cleared his throat, and stepped back from your eldest brother, leaving a very confused but relieved Dean to wonder what could possibly make an angel blush. Still, all you got was side eye.

“You were about to call for me?” Cas asked Dean, his gaze flitting around the room, landing on anything but you.

So that’s how it’s gonna be. Alright. Let me think about what I want to get while we’re out. A short dress? I think yes. Tight or loose? Who am I kidding? Tight it is. I’ll need some new underwear… These aren’t really suited for a tight dress– unsightly lines and all that. Where will I keep my gun?

The angel’s complexion rivaled that of a tomato at this point, and bless Dean’s soul, he spoke up. Spontaneous combustion isn’t easy to clean up, and you didn’t relish the thought of scraping bits of Cas off the wall. “Yeah…” he started hesitantly. “I just wanted to let you and Sam know Y/N and I are headed to town. Keep us posted if anything changes.”

“We will. I believe Sam and I are about to depart to ask for the blessing of a priest on your knife,” Cas said in reply.

As Dean nodded and turned to go, you mirrored his movements, throwing a wink over your shoulder at the flustered angel. I’m on a roll. Got Cas on my way to get Dean.

The unshakeable, unphasable Dean Winchester was shell shocked by the end of your little trip. He’d been subjected to horrors even his stint in hell hadn’t shown him. The dad bench at Victoria’s secret? Yeah, he’d been plucked from that with an, “I need your opinion, little brother.” The lounge chairs outside Sephora? Yeah, he’d been jerked from those to “help swatch”. The cologne display in your favorite department store? Yeah, he’d been yanked from there to assess which dress was “sexy but not slutty”.  Even the sanctuary of the food court, practically holy ground, wasn’t safe. Apparently, a sale on shoes trumped his nachos. He drove home on autopilot, eyes focused on the road, doing the speed limit for once. You chuckled to yourself. Serves him right.

As soon as you pulled in the garage, you hopped out of the car, dashing toward the bathroom with your new purchases. So much to do, so little time. I’m not usually a frilly person, but doesn’t every girl get a little excited when she has an excuse to shake it up every now and then? You passed a very confused Sam and Cas, who questioned Dean about the haunted look in his eyes. Putting on your playlist and laughing when “Hell on Heels” came on, you settled in for the long haul.

Three hours. Three hours is how long it took to create your cascading ringlets, to carefully carve your face with the sticky tubes and pots you’d tested on Dean’s forearm, to strap on those ungodly undergarments, and to stuff yourself into a dress that left very little to the imagination. Now if you could just figure out how to fasten your shoes without busting out of said dress like biscuits out of their can. “Help! I need someone to…” you trailed off, seeing your brothers, shadowed by their angel friend, come crashing through the door.

“You said, ‘help’ and we assumed the worst,” Sam shrugged.

Dean let out a whistle. “Damn, Sam, our sister is a girl after all. How nice. Now cover up.” His glare rivaled the one he’d had in place when you dragged him to look at earrings, insisting he hold them up to his ear so you could see how they hung. He shed his outer shirt, wrapping it backward around your chest.

“This is the point, Dean. Gotta blend in; make ‘em think I’m a working girl,” you chuckled, tossing the flannel off. “You know, the classy kind.”

“Can you even sit down?” Sam asked.

“No. Sitting is for quitters.” You snatched your shoes from the box, and asked sweetly, “Now, who will be a dear and help me put these on?”

How many Winchesters does it take to get a pair of shoes on?

Castiel did his signature head-turn-squint, and you exasperatedly answered his nonverbal question, “It’s a joke, Cas. Take my word for it.”

You shakily walked around, testing your balance. You know how sailors get sea legs? I think women get heel legs. Someone make me one of those honorary pins.

Meanwhile, the heavenly being in the room had yet to take his eyes off you. You’re giving me siren flashbacks here. Stop being creepy and say something, weirdo. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, my fine feathered friend. This confused squint you ignored, opting to hobble to the garage.

You piled into the impala, praying the whole way the stitching in your dress was as strong as your love of your modesty, what little you’d preserved, anyway. The ride there was short and silent, oddly enough. You’d been over the plan at least a hundred times in your mind. You knew exactly what to do.

But, because nothing can ever be simple, especially when Winchesters are involved, things got messy. Long story short, you ended up flat on your ass in the alley behind the bar, the lamia above you. “Come on, now. Let’s settle this like adults. Woman to woman,” you choked out. It’s rather hard to speak when there’s a Grecian monster limiting your air supply.

“I can’t let some hunter ruin my fun, now can I?” she trilled, releasing her grip by a fraction of an inch.

“I mean, you can do whatever you want,” you said with a wink.

“What I want to do is this,” she said with a crooked smile. You could feel the skin on your chest tightening, being pulled taut as your chest began to crack open, ribs straining and bending before snapping. You choked out a half-formed scream as your air supply was firmly cut off. The edges of your vision tinged black as you struggled to hang on to consciousness.

The cavalry has arrived! Your little team made quick work of killing the lamia, Sam landing a solid stab to the back of her neck while she was focused on you, Dean and Cas not far behind.

“Damn it, Sam! Did you have to go for the throat? I’m covered in blood,” you grumbled as you swiped at the sticky rust colored liquid before deciding it was hopeless. “Where were you all? Better late than never, I guess.”

“What a shame. I guess that means your dress is donezo.” Dean grinned at the thought, ignoring your question.

You just rolled your eyes, and hopped up, taking inventory of your injuries. Seeing that you’d only sustained some broken ribs and shallow scratches, you celebrated. “Bam, bitches! Me, two. Death, ZERO. Sorry I couldn’t be your main squeeze, sweetie,” you spat at the lifeless lump of a lamia.

“SHHH DON’T SAY THAT HE’LL HEAR YOU!” Dean cautioned with wide eyes.

“Good. We can go for pizza. I hear he’s into that. I’m starving,” you replied, kicking off your shoes for the walk back to the car.

“When are you not starving?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“Stop that. It’s creepy. Just shut up and feed me.” You looked around, wondering aloud, “Where’d angel boy go?”

“Guess you scared him off, Y/N. Shame. I’d like to have him for a brother-in-law,” Sam teased, attempting to ruffle your hair.

Joke’s on you, dude. My hair is so full of hairspray and blood, I’m pretty sure you couldn’t get it to mess up if you took a belt grinder to it. You chuckled, seeing Sam’s disgusted look when he pulled his hand back and wiped it on his shirt. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Seriously, though, we’re getting food, right?”

Post pizza pitstop, Dean, who was keyed up from the hunt and his near death experience at the mall, decided to burn some rubber. Partially to burn off steam; partially to get back at you. You were white-knuckling it on the bench seat. Cas, take the wheel.

“I do not understand why you feel as though I should pilot this vehicle,” your resident angel said dryly, appearing in the seat next to you.

“God! You scared me,” you squealed, your fist connecting with his upper arm, your attention quickly returning to your brothers in the front seat when Dean swerved in reaction to the new addition to the car.

This is it. This is the end. It won’t be a monster that gets me. It’ll be a damn tree.

“We have been over this. I am no longer God,” Castiel huffed, rubbing his shoulder. You looked over to him, catching a glimpse of the look he was giving you.

Did he just roll his freaking eyes at me? Are you serious? Like, I’m the one that taught him that. Oh, he’s gonna pay for that one. And not in the good kind of way.

At that, the angel blushed, turning his head to look out the window, his hand tentatively finding yours in the backseat. You laced his fingers with yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

Sure took you long enough.

At that, Cas laughed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, earning a groan from both of your brothers.

“Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives,” Dean mocked.

“Wait, how do you know that quote? It’s from a daytime soap opera. Dean, are you cheating on Dr. Sexy?” Sam snickered.

“You realize that understanding the reference indicates that you also enjoy daytime television, right, Sam?” Cas interjected.

“Sometimes it pays to know a guy that can read minds,” you said with a smile, bursting into laughter, stopping short when your ribs protested. It was worth it. High five for making them squirm.

Your brothers in the front seat and your angel in the back. What more could a girl ask for?

Let Me Know What You Think 

(Shoot me an ask if you want to be added to this list) Everything Taglist: @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @midnightjazzmine @wevegotworktodo @dont-forget-the-pie-bitch @percussiongirl2017 

Pt. 2 Taglist: @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou  

Pond Tags: @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @purgatoan @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @for-the-love-of-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofhazel @ilovedean-spn2 @jpadjackles @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @oldfashioncdvillain @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @luci-bae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisbellegray @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @melbelle45 

@27bmm

[idealisticrealism]

Blindspot 2x10 recap

(Aka the one where Patterson suffers more than she ever deserves to, and the team begrudgingly adopts Roman)

So, here I am, back by... well, vague demand... to provide you guys with another overly long and rambly recap. It seems that, regardless of what this show does, I will inevitably have a lot of thoughts and opinions about it-- and surprisingly there's some of you who are actually willing to suffer through reading them haha.

So I hope everyone had a nice hiatus/holiday period, and here goes. 

Okay. Shit. I have to say that this show totally got me here with the whole Borden vs Patterson pistol duel. I was convinced that Borden would be the one who was shot, because who the hell would dare harm our precious Patterson?? The writers, apparently. (Sadists, the lot of them). Also to Borden's credit, he does sound genuinely horrified when he realises he’s shot her, and I do really still believe that he truly cared about her. But sigh, way to sink my ship, show. And then ugh my lil baby slumping against the wall and being all “don’t touch me!” and ugh this is the worsstttt

Ok where did Jane spring this fancy-ass car from? Isn't the usual method to go for something old and nondescript that can be hot-wired, rather than something that probably has like inbuilt GPS or something? But ugh anyway poor Roman looks like a freaking mess. But come on, Jane, bringing him in on your own is a terrible idea. The moment he wakes he'll be like a frightened and cornered animal and just lash out. Aaaaand yep, there he goes, with the head-smashing and the almost-shooting. And then he literally goes, tossing himself out of the car. That was kinda cool, tbh. But sigh, Jane honey, mistrust is practically a part of his DNA, of course he's gonna flip out rn. I feel so sad for her though, she's literally always just trying to help and yet only ends up getting beaten and battered because of it (either physically or emotionally) and then abandoned. Ughhhhhh. 

Naw Readey baby. I'm so glad you're okay. And apparently enjoying the morphine buzz lol. And aww Zapata has been there watching over him and ugh this friendship is everything

Interesting that when Nas recaps the mission and the explosion to Weller, she doesn't mention that Reade suggested aborting when they lost a cell signal and she was the one decided to press on. Honestly rn I can't tell if her guilt over the dead agents is genuine or she's more upset that Shepherd both outsmarted her and got away. But of course Weller reassures her, because he supports his team no matter what. I just wish he hadn't placed his loyalty in her. Also I know Archie is a fantastic actress but I literally cannot stand the slow, pausing, breathy way she makes Nas speak. It just sounds so stilted and makes it difficult to actually focus on the scene. But I'm sure gonna try and focus because Weller has finally pulled his head out of his butt and is actually making protecting Jane a priority. (Hallelujah). Then he tells Nas they need to find her and she's all "I'm not hopeful"-- and yeah, I bet you're not, lady. You're probably hoping Jane DID die, so there's no one around to stop you manipulating Weller. But ugh the tears in Weller's voice... finally, boy, you're realising just how much you cannot lose Jane. And just bc I’m feeling magnanimous, here's a hint for that thick skull-- it's because you LOVE her, you idiot. Gawd. Anyway, Zapata is once again being cast in to the role of Team Anti-Jane, which is kinda freaking repetitive and annoying, but hey, the writers need to put other characters in opposition to Jane just to make Weller's support of her stand out all the stronger, making us ~love how he fights for her~ so we forget all the times this season he was a complete ass towards her. Like don't get me wrong, I love Jeller, and I actually also look forward to the moment that Zapata and Jane come through this with an even stronger friendship, because that's undoubtedly (or at least hopefully) what this is eventually leading to. But sigh, even though I can somewhat justify Zapata's behaviour as a result of her fear and trauma over the explosion and Reade's injury, I just wish her attitude towards Jane could be a little more nuanced and complex than the current GRRRR JANE'S THE VILLAIN HERE GRRRRR. And Nas doesn't bloody help by planting the suggestion that if Jane returns, it could just be to continue spying on them. Thanks, devil-lady. Next time I'll ask if I want your input. But aaaaaaaanyway, I'm gonna move on from that and instead cry a lil bit over "Jane was-- Jane is loyal." Oh, son. Took you long enough, you giant idiot. She just had to almost die for you to get there. And then ugh next thing we know Jane's being dragged into the bullpen and ughhhhhh "Please I just need to see if they're okay" aND UGH SHE LOVES THIS TEAM SO MUCH IT HURTS ME, she loves them even despite how poorly they've treated her lately (yes, they had ~some~ reasons, but seriously). And then ughhhhh Weller is charging over there like an enraged bull and I love that for a moment Jane doesn't know if he's angry at the guards or her but then he demands the cuffs to be taken off her and ughhhh she has a second of relief before she's apologizing over and over and desperately telling him that she didn't know-- bc lbr, from her past experience she would totally expect to be blamed for this, and she's not wrong (lookin' at you, Zapata and Nas). And then Weller PULLS HER IN FOR A HUG and she's all ??????? because whaaaat? Affection and reassurance?? What are these strange things?? But ugh the way her eyes close and she sinks into him for a second ughhhh I JUST WANT JANE TO FEEL SAFE AND LOVED AT ALL TIMES PLEASE. THIS IS ALL I WANT. But lol he tells her that they understand and there's a little camera cut to both Nas and Zapata who are very dubious as to whether they do understand and sigh I can practically read the rest of the season's theme in just this few seconds of footage. But anyway then ugh there’s Jane's distress when she sees that not all the team is there-- the terror that they might have been hurt and just ughhhhhhhhhh. Also thanks for that totally wooden-sounding line about Reade's surgery, Zapata. I’ve decided I'm going to  interpret the stiltedness of Audrey's normally flawless delivery as her not approving of her own character's attitude lol. But anyway Jane drops the Borden bombshell (naww, she says "he doesn't work for us", because she's on their side and always has been and ughhhhh) but anyway everyone has a collective "oh shit" moment as they realise Patterson and Borden are both AWOL. And then Jane brings up Roman and then has to explain what happened to her (that's right, guys, Shepherd planned to make her watch you die because she knew that YOU ARE ALL* (*minus Nas) JANE'S FAMILY AND LOSING YOU WOULD DESTROY HER. CAPICHE???  Ugh. But ugh Jane tells them everything Roman saving her and then about zipping him etc. And sighhh Zapata's got her angry pants and Jane-glare on yet again, but again I'm going to put it down to fear for her friend's life because that's the only way I can justify it without getting annoyed by it lol

Aaaaaahhhhh my baby Patterson. Waking up with your wound apparently fixed by the very man who shot you. Interesting that it seems (from the DWB thing) that he was officially trained in general practice/family medicine, and yet can also apparently do the job of a psychiatrist, AND perform surgery. Amazing. Such skills. Also okay I have to say some things bc I have such an issue with this bullet wound. Like people always seem to get shot in the abdomen in movies and shows (even like Jane did at the start of the season), and it's always all "oh it's okay, the bullet missed vital organs" but like uhhhmmm you know what fills up like the entire abdomen?? Bowel. You know what has a ton of blood supply that bleeds like mad, and also contains bacteria that can easily kill you if it gets into your bloodstream? Bowel. Ugh. And don't even get me started on how unsterile this whole environment is. But aaaanyway, it's tv and therefore she's totally fine and dandy rn, even magically managing to pull the IV from her arm with zero bleeding and disconnect the other end from the bag without it immediately gushing all over the floor. Maaaagic. Still, the fact that she's planning on strangling Borden with an IV line is pretty badass haha. Tbh the tubing would probably snap, but whatever. And then aaaaaaahhhh Shepherd is there and Borden tries to bargain for Patterson's life, even though all it achieves is torture rather than death. Welll.... you tried?

Meanwhile the team's still searching for Roman, and Weller comes into the lab where Zapata and Jane are already running a search, standing on opposite sides of the table. Mmm, symbolic. I wonder if they spoke at all?? Did Jane try yet again to explain herself, to beg forgiveness even though her crimes are long since paid for and now she has nothing at all she needs to be forgiven for? Sigh. But anyway, Zapata used her hacky skills to use Patterson's system to track Roman's phone. And finally he answers and is all ??!!!?????!, which is fair, and ugh my little crazy puppy is more like a little lost puppy at the moment. I kinda wish Jane had told him his name was Ian rather than Roman, tbh. But ah well. Then Roman gives very vague directions for where he is (seriously, man, you could be a lot more specific) and ugh he's just such a mess rn. He's actually literally like a puppy, and can’t concentrate on anything but the most basic of needs and sensations. Naw my baby

Ughhhh poor baby Patterson, suffering though both physical pain and emotional heartbreak. I had such high hopes for you two. And then ugh "everything I did was for my late wife" and lol Patterson and I have the exact same reaction: "just what every girl wants to hear" lol. Ugh, my poor baby. Borden truly seems a little unhinged rn, which is so sad. I miss my beautiful sweet cinammon roll of a man. I miss the Borden from our fics, the sweetheart who is as loyal to the team as any of them, who uses his training to help them and his empathy to support them. That Borden is long gone, now. But omg Patterson "Oh I'm sorry. Your side sounds really cool, so you should just go ahead and untie me, because I'm converted" lolll.  That’s my lil sassmaster. And then in the other room Shepherd’s finding out that Roman's been zipped and wow this show is really enjoying these dramatic sharp-closeup camera shots rn lol

Ugh Roman's exchange with the little girl. Slightly disturbing with the whole fork thing (though lbr I'm not a huge fan of kids messing with my stuff either lol) but kind of sweet in a sad way when he asks if he knows her. He's searching for any connection and is so saaaaad. And then all the 'hunters' (haha, get it? Coz they’re hunting him?) come in and wow that's a lot of practically identical looking dudes haha. It's like a camo print and baseball cap convention in here. And he gets the lady and the kid out but there are other customers in this place, what about them? You can see them in the background briefly but there’s never any screaming from terrified bystanders when the shooting starts lol. But ah well, mere details. Thankfully Jeller arrive in time to be part of the shootout, which ends when Roman stabs the guy who's shooting at them in the neck. Which is a lil vicious, maybe, but let's not forget Jane nearly choked a guy to death on her first day out of the bag. These two seriously have both survival instincts and protective instincts up the wazoo. Granted, him more on the former and her more on the latter, but still. 

Ugh and now Roman's cuffed in the interrogation room and Jane is upset about it and Zapata's like "Reade's injured bc of him" which is not entirely unreasonable since Roman WAS the one that got all the explosives and helped set up the trap, so....  but then Nas, in her usual manipulative way, supports Jane-- bc while she agrees Roman is ‘the enemy’, she still wants to use him and she knows a gentle approach is the best way to do that. Wow, snake-lady, Weller sure picked a winner for his rebound. Well done, my idiot son, I’m surprised she hasn’t bitten your head off during sex yet. But anyway speaking of idiots, now they're all telling Jane she has to lie to Roman about zipping him, because even though they vilified her for lying to them (when she did it to try to PROTECT them), they're suddenly fine and dandy with lying when it serves their own purpose. And yes, I can understand their perspective-- Roman might be their only way to save Patterson. But Jane lying to him now is eventually going to destroy anything she builds with him in the future. And my, my, doesn't this all sound familiar?? Then she goes in there and ugh my poor lil puppy is still so lost. And she promises that the team can help him like they helped her and tbh part of me is kinda dubious about that, especially the whole "they helped make me feel full again", given how they've treated her this season...  but at the same time it is also kinda true bc in S1 they gave her a purpose and a 'family', and at least in S2 so far she has still had the purpose part. Plus, she says 'helped', indicating that they weren't solely responsible for making her feel full again. I think a lot of that she did herself, just with assistance from Weller and the team and a little from Oscar and Roman and Oliver and basically anyone that she connected with even briefly. But still, the fact that she lies to someone she loves because the team made her is upsetting to me...

Speaking of upsetting, Shepherd's getting her torture on. Although honestly, as far as torture goes, this is pretty weak. All talk and no action, really. Like yes, a perforated eardrum hurts. But like Shepherd herself says, it does heal. Which was obviously what the writers were aiming for, because it's Patterson, and you can't permanently injure her or disfigure her since she's a series regular. But dude this torture is actually kind of embarrassing. People can perforate their eardrums just from cleaning their ears. Such a minor injury is hardly effective torture. And reinserting the needle in the same ear, trying to get her to suddenly break and talk? Completely pointless. If she was serious about torturing Patterson, she'd take an eye. Or smash her fingers, like she vaguely threatens to do but doesn’t ever get close to doing. Or if she wanted to keep her hands intact (ie, she wanted to use Patterson for her skills later) she could rip off fingernails or toenails. Cut off toes. Slice a bunch of cuts into her body. Break her legs. Poke her in her wound. There are literally so many ways to inflict pain on someone, and the fact that Shepherd supposedly chose this one only is just too ludicrous for me to believe. I mean c’mon, writers. As much as I would have hated seeing Patterson hurt, YOU chose to put her in that position, so you at least do it right...

Awwwww Roman's in the magic lie detector machine and he looks so sad and worried and Jane's there watching over him and ughhhh he just wants to help her and have her approval and ughhh my puppyyyy. Then Nas just ups and leaves partway through and Jane chases after her but Nas just shuts her down, then basically outright says that it's Jane's fault that they can't find Patterson. At least Weller hears that and very obviously dismisses Nas before reassuring Jane, clearly seeing how much she blames herself. And okay it's out of frame but from the way his body moves he definitely seems to put his hand on her upper arm and ugh FINALLY, BOY. FINALLY SUPPORTING HER IN THE WAY SHE DESERVES. And then as he walks off, Jane's left there all overwhelmed bc of guilt/worry over Patterson, the anger from the others, Kurt suddenly being on her side again (she's forgotten what that felt like, I bet), and also the fact that she now lied to Roman for no reason, since he wasn't able to help them find Patterson anyway. Sigh. I wish she had just gone back to the room and told him the truth right then, explained as best she could and apologised. Maybe it would have worked. 

Interesting that Weller sent Nas off like a good minute before he headed to the lab, but they both walked in at the same time. Did they have a conversation outside? Did she linger around the corner and listen in on  what he said to Jane? Or idk whatever lol, it’s tv. And so now we find out that Sandstorm has communicated in some kind of code that they need to crack, and one second Nas is all "oh shucks this is very complicated it might take weeks" and then the next she's suddenly like "wait look at that random book in this miraculously appearing photo, that could be the key to a book cypher!" Like wow, writers. You really didn't put much work into that one, did you? Like I understand there are time constraints involved with an episode but seriously that was just embarrassingly convenient. And then the ridiculous way Nas was all "okay so if we convert this and do that, it just might-- oh it worked!" Oh geez. C’mon. Give us a little credit here. On a brighter note, props to the other Laura (gypsyscarfwoman) who I believe noticed the book a few eps ago and commented on its possible significance given that it's the history of Rome and there's been strong Roman themes (hehe) in this season.      

Oh look who it is, Mr Director Man, my initial fave choice for the mole. Still disappointed about that, though lbr he's still being shady enough that he could still be up to something. Also wow is it midlife crisis time or something bc his haircut looks like that of a teenage boy who’s trying to get in with the 'in crowd' lol. But then he basically tells Nas to piss off and I instantly take back anything bad I ever said about him. Forgive me, Pelly. Your hair looks great and your suit is the most dapper of all. You are the bestest and I thank you for freeing me of Nas She-Demon Kamal and also for rightly ascribing (at least partial) blame to her for the deaths of those agents in the explosion. Now, if only Weller would shut up and stop trying to get her to stay, that would be great. Gotta say, it's really not fun to see him trying to protect her, bc it kinda lessens all the times he did the same for Jane. But whatevvvs, I'm terrific at only seeing what I want to see, so consider the Weller parts of this scene zipped from my memory lol

Great, we're back at the useless torture, and clearly Patterson is as impatient with it as I am lol. And daaaamn she's dropping some truth bombs about the lack of loyalty amongst Shepherd’s followers haha. But seriously if Shepherd lets THAT get to her, she's not the terrifying warlord she was made out to be lol

So they've cracked the code, brought in the chick that owns the garage at the listed location, and now they're making a whole lot of impossible threats (Gitmo? Really Tasha?) before she admits she provided a getaway car to Borden. A car that was fortunately VERY distinctive and able to be picked up on traffic cams. So handy.

Lol Shepherd is still in the midst of a tantrum and decides that Patterson has to die. Well, that was several hours wasted for nothing then haha. Borden convinces her to let him kill her, and I'm stunned to see that he's actually about to go ahead with it. Also shaking my head at the fact that the tourniquet is improperly positioned and not tight enough (though it appears to be wrapped around a fake bit of arm so whatever), and the fact that he inserts the wrong type of needle that shouldn't already be attached to a tube, plus he does it without palpating the vein, and seems to think he needs a whole bag of saline to prove that the vein is patent rather than just a quick 5ml flush. Sigh. But anyhow while he’s farting around, Patterson is doing such a good job of talking him out of it, and he admits that part of him loves her (*wails*). And then when he hears the team’s car he holds her hand for a sec and tells her goodbye and ugh dammit you two. We could have had it aaaaaaalllllll 

And so the cavalry has arrived but run into a bit of a bit of a dilemma of their own, the car flipping when they hit a damn landmine. The most shocking bit of the whole thing, though, is that Zapata jumps straight out from the back and runs to Jane's door, frantically asking if she's okay before calling Weller over to help free her. Is this a weirdly written backflip of her attitude or is this her real regard for Jane breaking through the anger that had been masking it? Personally I hope it's the latter, bc I've always liked to think that Zapata does care about Jane, and needs her, because right now she needs an outlet for all her negative emotions and (unhealthy as it is) she knows Jane will bear it, will be that proverbial punching bag for her because JANE knows she needs it (and knows that it isn't actually about her specifically at all). Hopefully it's a situation that doesn't last much longer as Zapata eventually finds better outlets (and apolgises her ass off to Jane). I just really need Zapata and Jane to be buds again. Sigh. But anyway ugh Weller pulls her out and they're clinging to each other for a sec until she sees Borden bolting for the trees and Weller takes off in pursuit. Really, son? It's like a bear trying to run down a cheetah. But sure, knock yourself out. Meanwhile I'm more excited to see the ladies save their other lady friend and ugh my precious babies. Even if Zapata and Jane are at odds rn, they can agree they both love Patterson and would do anything for her. #TeamBlindspotLadies

So somehow Weller caught up to Borden (I suppose it’s true cheetahs aren't great over long distances) and now they're getting into a punch-up, and while I can believe Borden probably got some martial arts training after joining Sandstorm-- possibly from Remi herself-- I still struggle to believe that he would ever win this fight. I did pause it at a hilarious spot just now though where there's just an upside down foot about to smack into Weller's face haha. And then Borden manages to cuff Weller's hand to his ankle, which is amusing but I definitely call bullshit, because anyone that’s been anywhere near handcuffs would know they would definitely not fit around a grown man's leg, especially not over his trousers. Not a chance. But whatever haha. And then ugh he says that Borden can't shoot him and he's all "not yet" and ugh remember when these two were buds?? Guys that would talk about sports during Weller's sessions but then Borden also always listened when he needed to talk about his dad or Taylor or whatever? I am so sad we lost that. Goddammit writers why couldn't you have just listened to me and made Pellington the mole. I guess I have to be thankful that at least it wasn’t Tasha... 

Noooo Pellington stay away from Roman!!! Stop hurting my baby pupppyyyyyy. Ugh and now there's the tears and the yelling and damn I am impressed with Luke Mitchell rn. He's absolutely killing it this ep. And then aaaaahhhhhh Pellington is gonna send him to the CIA to be tortured just like Jane and okay I take back all the nice things I said about you earlier, getting rid of Nas doesn;t make up for hurting my puppy. But ughhh Weller and Jane stand together against him, and then Weller threatens to quit if Roman is taken away (ugh the way Jane looks at him when he says that, just let me die right now). But I wonder if Weller’s threat is just because he knows Pellington doesn't want to have to find a replacement, or if he's starting to suspect that Pellington might have other reasons-- possibly Sandstormy reasons-- for wanting to keep him in that role??? And then ugh he argues to keep Nas, and while that initially bugged me earlier (I'm sure it's rather clear by now that I'm less than a fan of her, and especially of her thing with Weller), his language actually makes it clear that he wants her back because her needs her knowledge of Sandstorm, and doesn't think he can figure them out and catch them without her. And with that lightbulb moment, I'm back to being just a little less displeased with Weller. Not overly happy with how he's suggesting to use Jane and Roman's connection to get info, but then Pellington is pretty ruthless in his methods so Weller probably has to pretend to be that way too, even if he's planning on doing things differently. But dude, he is so setting himself up to be screwed over, and when that inevitably happens (*cough* when Nas betrays the team *cough*) Jane is the one that's gonna be there, picking his ass up off the ground. Because she loves him, and helping others is just what she does. Also ugh Jane with her hand on Roman's shoulder while he looks down at her... I can't even deal with these two.They are my babies and i love them

Firstly, I love Reade's apartment and I want it. Secondly, hmmm, a patient who had major vascular surgery going home the same day as he had his operation? Yeah, nope. Not ever. But again, tv land, so.... *shrugs*. The teasing Reade and sarcastically caring Zapata is so great until bam! the world's most unwanted kiss bursts awkwardly into the scene. Oh Gero. Gero, Gero, Gero. WHATREUDOIN. I seriously hope that this kiss-- and her reaction to it-- was just a way to get the "will they get together?" question completely out of the way by giving it a resounding no. Although lbr I don't trust the writers not to create a scene later where Zapata comes to Reade and is all "I was too scared to admit it to myself but I know now I'm desperately in love with you, let's ride off into the sunset together". Which would be THE WORST. Honestly like 99% of the time I am like YESSSS GIVE ME ALL THE ROMANCE but this has just never been a romantic ship to me. This has always been two people who love each other because they are BEST FRIENDS, regardless of the fact that they have different sets of genitals. And it's not just bc I want Reade and Sarah to find each other again, or to see Zapata fall for the 'forgetful terrorist' that she currently dislikes so much. It's because Zapata and Reade's friendship has always been one of the most beautiful and powerful parts of the show, and to imply that that kind of connection can only be had if you're also getting naked together... well that just pisses me off, because it cheapens the whole thing. So quit it, Gero. This is a ship that should never sail, okay???  Let's hope Zapata sticks to her guns and Reade realises that they never would have worked and they both just agree to forget it ever happened

Ughhhhh Jane bringing Roman food and reassuring him that it's all only temporary and then giving him the coooooin and ugh their haaaaaands and the "we'll figure it out together" and aaahhhhhhhh save meeeeeee

And then ughhh here's my next favourite brother-sister relationship, with Weller bringing sunflowers to Patterson who is talking adorably loudly and ugh he gets choked up as he gives them to her and he tries to encourage her to rest but lets her show him what she found anyway bc he knows she needs it and so she shows him the article about Borden's death-- or rather, Nigel's death (lol Nigel Thornton just makes me think of Nigel Thornberry. Smashing.) But ooooh that was clever by the writers--- this ep is titled "Nor I, Nigel, AKA leg in iron". Which could be interpreted as Nigel having his leg in irons, aka being trapped. Shackled. Like they're implying Borden was kind of 'chained' to Sandstorm, with no chance for freedom. Also she insults Borden's medical school which upon googling doesn't appear to be a real one, so that makes me wonder if Hardyshire is a name or a brand that one of the writers doesn't like or something haha, and it's their own little in-joke lol. Then she talks about the book code and he asks how she knows and she says “come on, I read the notes" which I do not understand? Which notes? And then Weller FINALLY gives her the phone belonging to the Sandstorm contact (still betting it was Remi) and lol after Patterson splutters about having "all of the questions" they easily decrypt it with the book key. And so they immediately find a video file (is there more on the phone or just that one file?? Will we see more next week?? It occurs to me now that I haven’t watched the promo yet lol). But yeah what is this leopard thing???? I always thought her neck seemed strangely uneven by just having the bird on one side. So I assume they scrapped the leopard tatt, right? Like didn't do it at all rather than it being in invisible ink or something. Which means that maybe Sandstorm thought it was somehow too revealing, like it could tie back to them somehow? Or maybe whatever the tatt was about is no longer an issue? Or something???? (also did you notice how well behaved I was just now and didn't make a single comment on Jane's great butt haha) 

So sandstorm is altering Phase 2 but Weller's role in it is still important. BUT WHAT IS ITTTTTT GERO JUST TELL US

Awwww nooo my baby Roman is having his first mempory, but it's an awful one (statistically, I guess that makes sense, given so much of his life has been awful). But ughhhhh idc if he was a terrorist before I just wanna give him a huggggggg