#also- this falls under why I can’t stand the idea of them as a couple

[toph-bi-fong]

“But did she kill him tho?”

Yes. Literally yes, she did. Aang literally says that “He wasn’t just knocked out- he was gone.” Katara was only able to bring him back to life by healing him with water that contained high spiritual energy. He fell into a coma thereafter. But regardless if he survived or not, Azula’s full intention was to murder the Avatar and she showed no remorse in doing so.

“But also, didn’t Aang allow alot of people to die including the Air Nation due to him running away tho?”

Are we really blaming Aang for the genocide of his own people? Something he didn’t foresee would happen when he ran away? Sure, Aang blames himself for what happened- but it’s not entirely his fault.

It’s like Katara said- there wouldn’t have been much for him to do about it as he was still an Avatar in training. He likely would’ve died along the rest of them. And again, unlike Azula, Aang actually shows remorse for what happened to his people.

I like Azula. She’s one of my favorite villains. But that’s exactly how I like her- as a villain. I personally don’t care for her being redeemed.

If you want to read about Azula redemption, I’m not gonna stop you. Go for it. It’s not an impossible concept, but it’s also not one I’m a fan of.

TLDR: Aang had no idea what would happen to his people and it’s not entirely his fault, but he still shows remorse. Azula knew exactly what she was doing and was proud about it. Azula is a villain and that’s okay.

[loaksky]

Hi I was wondering if you wrote or if you will write a part 2 to neighbour Ellie x reader, cause I would love to see how their relationship will progress and maybe there can be a bit of jealous Ellie and insecure reader, in like maybe they meet their exes or something like that

neighbor!ellie x sunshine!fem reader, hurt + comfort / fluff / smut MDNI!! or we’re beefing!! / established relationship, wc: 5.2k

synopsis: things between you and ellie seem to be going great! that is until you pay her a visit at work to drop off lunch and find that the threads that tie her and an overfriendly coworker tangle too much for your liking.

content warnings: language, slightly mean!ellie makes a return, reader isn’t necessarily insecure, but a little unsure of the circumstances, 18 + content / filthy make-up sex that consists of: brief shower-sex, scissoring, fingering / oral (reader & ellie!receiving), thigh-riding, so much kissing and mushy feelings.

author’s note: in love with this idea ! been mulling over how to expand on their relationship & i feel like this is a great segue ! hcs below; leave some more scenarios for existing couples (emt!abby, collegebff!ellie or others) and i’ll answer them ! (also not proofread well like usual lmao)

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

jealous!ellie & jealous!reader are SO different, but i feel like the outcome would be so…YUM.

feel like you’d be more reserved about being jealous.

like lately, it seems like things between you and ellie seem like they can’t get any better.

the two of you spend so much time together, whether it’s having picnics in the park with some pastries you make, testing out recipes after close at your cafe or having sleepovers at one or the other’s apartment.

ellie’s lowkey obsessed with you and at times it makes you blush because after the initial stages of feeling your relationship out, you find that ellie’s extremely vocal and outright with her affection for you.

and for the longest time, you don’t question it. don’t really say much because ellie’s particularly good at reassuring you even if you don’t ask.

it’s why you think you’re overreacting when you decide to surprise her and bring her lunch on a random afternoon in the middle of the week.

the top half of her coveralls hangs around her hips, dirtied white tank exposing tanned, inked flesh and lean muscle when you enter the lobby.

she’s leaning against one of the tool carts with her arms crossed over her chest, gaze unwavering.

when you trace her eyeline, you realize there’s another girl nearby bent under the hood of a shiny red car.

she says something imperceptible and suddenly ellie’s throwing her head back with a laugh, sound muffled by the sliding plexiglass.

“hey, receptionist is on break, can i help you with something?” a mechanic is poking his head into the lobby from an adjoining office.

“uh, i’m here for ellie?” the mechanic’s glancing through the glass into the main garage before standing from his rolling chair to dust his hands on his coveralls.

“yeah, she’s supposed to be watching the front,” he laughs. “too busy flirting with her lil girlfriend to pay attention.”

he doesn’t notice the way your face falls or how you almost drop the little canvas bag altogether.

you chance another glance at the two, find that the girl has emerged from under the hood and you swallow hard because god, she’s so fucking pretty.

doesn’t help that seeing her and ellie side-by-side makes you wonder if the two of you look that good together.

they look like they were made for each other and they even share similar interests! you don’t know a damned thing about cars and ellie’s gaze nearly glazes over every time you’re talking about your recipes and coffee pairings.

“uh, actually,” you stop him. “i don’t think she was expecting me, so i’ll just drop this off.”

he pauses.

“you sure? i can get her real quick, she’s not busy.”

ellie still hasn’t clocked you, so you shake your head.

“it’s fine,” you assure him. “i’ll talk to her later.”

he merely shrugs, meets you halfway for the canvas bag, and you’re quickly ducking out of the garage.

“babe?”

ellie’s right on the dot, you realize, when you hear her through the cracked sliding door to the balcony.

you’ve just finished watering your plants and now you’re jotting down a quick brainstorm for the upcoming spring launch.

through the window, you see ellie kicking her shoes off at the entrance before assessing her surroundings and poking her head into your bedroom for good measure.

“babe?” she calls out.

you stand, tucking the little notebook under your arm before sliding back inside.

she seems to light up when she sees you, crossing the living room to meet you halfway.

“hey, els.”

you’re letting her engulf you in a hug, arms wrapping around your waist as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“missed you today,” she hums, rocking your weight from side to side.

“missed you too,” you say gently.

ellie’s pulling away a short distance, finger bumping under your chin so you’ll look up at her.

“why didn’t you say hi when you stopped in today?” she nearly pouts. “zack came in when we were slow and said that someone dropped something off for me.”

you shrug, unable to tell her that insecurity was rearing its ugly head and you didn’t know how to deal with it in that moment.

“my girl didn’t wanna eat with me?”

“sorry,” you mumble, burning up under the heat of her gaze. “i couldn’t stay long.”

her brows are furrowing, hands coming up to smooth your hair from your face and brush over your shoulders.

“everything okay, babe?”

you nod once, then twice.

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

ellie’s watching you closely, fingers cupping your neck.

“talk to me,” she encourages softly. “did something happen?”

you swallow, shake your head, and put on your most convincing smile before leaning up to give her a peck on the lips.

“m’okay,” you tell her.

she doesn’t look convinced, but she also doesn’t wanna pry.

changes the subject instead.

“so does this mean, you’ll swing by and actually hang out with me soon?” she asks, body relaxing when you start smoothing over the wrinkles in her coveralls as a distraction.

you nod, smile widening when she starts peppering kisses all over your face.

for a little bit, you forget about ellie’s coworker and you forget about the comment that zack made, but then you’re popping in again almost two weeks later.

they’re shoulder to shoulder in the body shop, looking at something under the hood of a silver pick up truck. ellie’s engrossed, but the girl’s fullblown staring, paying no mind to whatever ellie’s explaining in the engine bed.

makes you sick to your stomach thinking that if ellie so much as chances a glance, their noses could brush.

“hey receptionist is— oh.”

it’s zack, the same mechanic from last time.

he’s wiping his hands on an old towel as he emerges from one of the bays.

“ellie!” he shouts past the propped open door.

she nearly jumps out of her skin, parting from her coworker as she throws a cross look over her shoulder.

“your girl’s here,” he announces.

ellie’s straightening up, craning her neck even more before her face splits into a bright smile.

she’s abandoning the girl by the truck, jogging across the body shop to duck into the lobby.

“hi, angel.”

your cheeks warm when she slides her arm around your waist to pull you into her.

“gonna go on lunch break, don’t wait up,” she calls & you’re sparing the girl near the truck a glance.

her name’s emma if the stitching on the right breast of her coveralls is anything to go by.

she makes a show of taking you in from head to toe before her gaze cuts to zack and they seemingly share a wordless exchange.

oh.

you have no clue what to make of that, but ellie’s steering you from the lobby and out into the crisp air.

it’s still a little chilly outside, but you’re wearing one of ellie’s favorite sweatshirts and she’s shrugging on a hoodie hanging from a coatrack by the door.

“my truck?” she offers when a chill rips down your spine.

you only hum.

when the two of you are settled, her in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s, she’s taking the little bag with lunch containers and setting it on her dash before pulling you towards her to eliminate every inch of space between the two of you.

“whaddya doing?” you sigh out a laugh.

“i missed you,” ellie says simply.

“ellie, you slept over last night,” you squeak out a breathy laugh when her ice cold hands slide under the warmth of the red fleece. “we saw each other this morning.”

“so?” she replies petulantly. “wanna be with you all the time.”

you’re wearing a turtleneck underneath the sweatshirt so she’s nosing along your jaw before pressing a few soft kisses there.

“you’re so clingy recently, els,” you giggle, arms winding around her neck.

“duh.” and your belly flips when she doesn’t even deny it. “you’re so fucking cute and i just wanna keep you in my pocket all the time.”

that earns her a full-hearted laugh and you really begin to wonder why you let that girl with her stupidly perfect blown out hair and stupidly rounded ass and the most stupidly pretty face ever make you question your ellie.

you live in bliss for the duration of her forty-five minute break where she does a whole lot of eating, but not necessarily the food you made for her.

the windows are equal parts fogged and frosted by the time she’s done with you and you’re shimmying your jeans back up in the back seat of her truck as she shrugging the top half of her discard coveralls and her hoodie back on again.

“you didn’t even touch to food i made you,” you whine.

“i’ll eat it on my ten,” she assures you, and your toes curl when she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“liked what i had for lunch better,” she says so casually, your cheeks are on fire.

“ellie!”

“definitely need dessert when i get home,” she insinuates, leaning her weight over your blissed out body.

she plants a kiss on your mouth before climbing back into the front seat.

but, in the lobby, when she’s bidding you a farewell with another peck on the lips, promising she’ll try to come home early, you notice emma’s eyes again. they’re searing, laced with obvious annoyance.

ellie’s returning to her duties and you’re ducking into their restroom for a moment to splash your face with cool water.

ellie’s never given you a reason to doubt her, has been a perfect girlfriend since the beginning, but you can’t help yourself.

especially not when you’re ducking out and you hear it.

“so i’m not the only one surprised that her girl looks like that?” you think it’s zack, but you can’t be so sure.

“i dunno, she’s hot, but they don’t really match,” another voice sounds. “especially since her last…thing was with emma.”

and, wow, fuck, you hadn’t been expecting that.

“damn, i forgot about that,” maybe zack says. “it was at the party mel and them threw, right? when they fucked?”

you’d wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. maybe they’d been a thing once upon a time, kissed on occasion, but hearing it put so crassly makes you feel like you’re gonna throw up.

the bell’s tinkling hard against the glass when you throw the door open.

and perhaps the situation with finding out about ellie and emma goes hand-in-hand with the way ellie experiences her jealousy.

maybe the fact that ellie still works closely with a previous situationship and is obviously on friendly terms with makes you withdraw a little.

you’re spending a lot more time at your cafe, readying for spring launch and brainstorming new recipes.

you don’t want to bore ellie, especially when you’ve been so in your head about everything lately, so you’re putting in more hours, coming home late at night.

truthfully, ellie’s devastated because she misses her girl :/ why are you always so busy suddenly?

so when a familiar face comes poking into the cafe a few weeks down the line, your eyes are as wide as saucers.

“wow, alex, is that you?”

she’s an ex who’d moved abroad for work a few years back. and the break up had been amicable enough, but she’d moved on and so had you.

the only contact the two of you keep is the occasional comment on social media and a text or two during the holidays.

she’s grinning ear-to-ear.

“what are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, setting the rag down on the bartop to round the counter.

you’d been in the middle of prepping to close up shop when the bells chimed against the glass.

“visiting my parents for a few weeks,” she answers. “thought i’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”

“great, i’m doing great,” you assure her with a warm smile. “what about you? how’s germany?”

“definitely miss the food here sometimes, but you know,” she shrugs and you’re letting out a laugh. “and...julia’s pregnant.”

and your brows are shooting up, arms wrapping around her middle.

“alex, that’s so exciting!” you cheer. “congratulations.”

her cheeks are red when you pull away.

“yeah,” she says softly, eyes gentle. “i’m so excited.”

and you’re glad to hear that things are working out for her, that she’s established herself well and she’s building the family she’s always dreamed of.

“and you?” she asks.

“what about me?”

“are you seeing anyone?”

it’s your turn to warm, fidgeting under her expectant gaze.

“i am,” you confirm.

her smile widens

“that’s great,” she says genuinely. “i’m glad. i hope they make you happy.”

and it really makes you draw into yourself for a moment because ellie does. she makes you so fucking happy, you don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes.

“yeah,” you hum. “she’s great.”

the two of you end up catching up a little as you close, and she even takes you up on your offer of visiting again for a tasting before she leaves!

and this is most likely what sends ellie over the edge.

at first she didn’t know why you were suddenly so distant, knew you were dedicated, but didn’t know why you were so invested as of late.

recently, it’s been her popping into your apartment, but being disappointed to find that you’re not even home.

and the days that she does catch you, you’re pecking her on the lips and rushing out the door.

makes ellie question if there’s something she should be paying closer attention to.

honestly, she’s just really worried that she did something wrong, so as she’s trekking up the sidewalk to approach your little cafe with a bundle of cute flowers around 10 in the evening, she’s feeling a weird sense of deja vu.

finds that the open sign has been flipped and that the lights are dim, but nearly trips over her steps when she peers inside and sees you behind the counter.

you’re not alone, a tall figure leaned up against the bartop, obviously deeply interested in whatever you’re animatedly talking about.

you’re still wearing your apron, hair falling from its hold and a lump is lodging its way into ellie’s throat.

tugs gently on the handle to see that it’s locked and the motion catches both you and your company’s attention.

god, whoever you’re with is an absolute stunner and ellie’s swallowing hard as you round the counter and flit through the tables to come let her in.

“els, what are you doing here?” you ask, smiling softly.

barely registers what you’re saying because the girl you’re with has straightened and there’s something so put together and elegant about the brunette that makes a pang of insecurity begin to coil in ellie’s stomach.

“wanted to see you,” she says simply.

“oh,” you reply. “we were just finishing up here, i would’ve been home in like an hour.”

and that leaves such a sour taste in her mouth because a lot can happen in an hour, in forty-five minutes even.

“great, i’ll walk you home,” ellie says, tone pinched.

your brows furrow and you’re opening your mouth to ask ellie if everything’s fine, but alex is placing a casual hand on your shoulder to remind you she’s there and ellie can’t help but zero in on the way her slender fingers curl.

“alex,” she introduces, offering her other hand.

“ellie,” your girlfriend bites back, glancing at alex’s outstretched palm before glancing back up at her.

there’s a twinkle of knowing in alex’s eye as she nods thoughtfully.

“heard a lot about you,” she says simply.

ellie merely hums.

and god, you’re mortified because you’d spent the entire night raving about ellie even though alex was supposed to be giving you feedback on launch ideas.

you’d told her how kind and great ellie was. instead, here she is, ice cold and glaring.

“well...” alex turns her attention to you. “i really appreciate tonight, everything was phenomenal.”

you preen under the praise and ellie’s rolling her eyes, fist tightening around the stems of the flowers.

“of course, anytime,” you assure her. “thank you for visiting me again.”

and seeing the two of you side-by-side, ellie feels so small. because you’ve always been so pretty, so out of her league and the two of you look like a match made in heaven.

“always,” alex replies, and ever the instigator, she adds, “text me when you get home?”

“i will,” you tell her, brushing past ellie to lock her out. “goodnight, alex, be safe!”

she says something in return that evades ellie’s hearing, but she’s far too livid to even tune in.

you’ve barely locked the door behind her when ellie’s voice cuts through the tense air.

“who the fuck was that?” she asks sharply.

you turn on your heel, brows dipping because ellie’s rarely let her anger get the best of her.

“ellie, what are—”

“i asked you a question,” she says firmly.

you roll your lips, gaze downcast because such a good moment has been obliterated by ellie’s fiery temper.

“we dated a few years ago,” you answer honestly. “she was back in town for the next few weeks and i wanted to do something nice.”

ellie lets out a humorless laugh.

“so i’ve been worried sick for weeks because you wanna ghost me when you’ve really been parading around with your ex?” ellie huffs.

and okay, wow, you hadn’t really expected that from her because your ellie is usually relatively level-headed.

“this is only the second time i’ve seen her, ellie,” you argue. “we were friends way before we even dated and it was a clean break up. we were just catching up.”

ellie’s tossing the bouquet of flowers, now crushed by her unrelenting fist, onto the nearest table top.

“just catching up, huh?” she mocks. “so a romantic set up, just the two of you, is just catching up? you said not to wait up for you because you’d be caught up with work. good to know that screwing your ex is—”

“this is work,” you bite back. “i’ve been trying to get my bearings for this upcoming launch and she was kind enough to put up with all my crazy ideas and all my rambling,” then quietly, “given ninety percent of it was about you.”

“what, you couldn’t ask me?” ellie huffs. “you know i’d help you if you wanted me to!”

“i didn’t ask because i know all this shit bores you,” you say weakly. “alex was just being nice.”

that shuts ellie up, douses her anger like a bucket of ice cold water on a fire. and now she feels like a piece of shit because she hadn’t known that you felt that way.

“and she’s engaged,” you add, pulling away from her when she takes a step towards you. instead you busy yourself with gathering your spread and all the silverware. “they’re expecting a child.”

and fuck, ellie wishes she’d slowed down. wishes that she hadn’t talked out of her ass.

“i didn't—”

“you’re one to talk, ellie,” you add coldly. “you work in close proximity with a girl you used to fuck regularly. you’re still friends with her, and it’s obvious to every single soul imaginable that i’m just an obstacle to her and that she’s still interested. but i didn’t say anything even if it fucking ate away at me because i know you. you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us.”

that knocks that wind from ellie’s lungs because she hadn’t realized that you knew. just wanted to sweep it under the rug because her and emma were never serious and she didn’t want you worrying.

“wait, angel, i’m sorry,” ellie says. “i—”

you shake your head.

“whatever, ellie,” you whisper. “i have to close up.”

“c’mon, babe, don’t—”

“i don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” you cut her off. “i’ll be home soon, but i wanna be alone right now.”

when you get home and see ellie’s sneakers by the door, you take in a deep breath and try to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, but instead, you’re met with the smell of your favorite take out and a soft murmur from your vinyl player in the living room.

when you make it to the end of the corridor to peer into the kitchen, you see ellie taking down a few plates.

she’s glancing over her shoulder, body seemingly relaxing when she finds you standing in the archway of the kitchen.

“hey,” she greets softly, and you belatedly realize that her voice is hoarse.

“hi,” you reply.

“wanna eat first?” she asks you, but you don’t answer, too busy analyzing her.

you put two and two together; figure that she’s been crying if the red bags under her eyes and the dying flush on her cheeks is anything to go by.

she takes a step towards you and you seem to snap out of it.

“wanna shower first,” you tell her.

you hear her gulp.

“okay,” she says.

and you hate this. you hate being upset and you hate that she’s upset and knowing that ellie cried makes you wanna cry, so you’re taking a step towards her.

she’s glancing at you.

“shower with me?” you offer timidly.

ellie’s pushing off the counter, nodding eagerly.

and truthfully, ellie had every intention of keeping her hands to herself, but then you were asking her to help work the soap down your back.

then you were turning to face her to rinse under the stream of the showerhead. the sudsy water’s making its way down the column of your throat and the curves of your body and ellie’s tongue is so dry, she feels like it could crack in her mouth.

her hands settle on the narrow of your waist, right over the swell of your hips as she presses open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.

“i’m so sorry, angel,” she whispers, hands sliding to rest against the small of your back.

you give in even though you’re still in your head, arms looping around her neck as she brushes your hair to one side and starts paying a lot more attention to the spot right behind your ear.

“s’okay, els,” you assure her softly. “i’m sorry, too. i was being a brat.”

your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, breath hitching when she grabs a palmful of your ass and breaks away from your neck to catch your lips between her own.

“you don’t know how much i love you,” she murmurs between kisses, sighing brokenly when the plush of your tits presses against her sensitive nipples.

you moan when one of her hands slides down your front and gently brushes over your clit.

“ellie,” you whimper.

“let me show you?”

your head is lolling back when the pads of her calloused fingers circle your entrance to gather the slick that’s accumulating there.

you nod.

“yeah, yeah, ellie, please,” you choke.

she’s reaching behind you to turn the shower off, ducking outside of the tiled space to grab your towel.

and she’s slow, meticulous as she dries you off, mouth watering when the cool air of the bathroom makes gooseflesh ripple over your smooth skin.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” ellie whispers, standing behind you in the mirror. “so fucking perfect and all mine.”

your eyelids are drooping shut as she discards the towel, hands wandering as her teeth sink into your neck.

“oh, fuuu—”

ellie’s jostling you back into your bedroom. when she’s about to push you back against the mattress, you’re spinning so that she’s falling against the unmade duvet, taking you with her.

and ellie’s gaze is glazing over when you spread her legs to reveal a pussy slick with need and a clit so swollen, it makes you salivate.

“what are you doing?” she whispers, fingertips denting the fat of your thighs.

“wanna ride you, els,” you whimper, climbing to straddle her heat. “wanna take care of you.”

one of her legs stretches to settle over your shoulder and you’re kissing her calf as your clits bump.

“fuck,” ellie chokes when you start rolling your hips. “fuck, wait, angel, just—”

the slip is delicious, obscene sound of your combined arousal echoing through the room to mingle with ellie’s throaty moans.

ellie’s used to watching you ride her strap, used to fucking you and giving you everything because it’s one of the things that makes her the happiest, but, fuck, she could get used to this.

“you gonna cream all over my pussy, ellie?” you whine, pace relentless as you ride her.

she lets out a breathy laugh.

“you feel how wet i am?” ellie gasps, thumb coming to nestle between your heat. the friction feels so fucking good against your clit, has you throwing your head back as you fuck her. “god, you’re fucking delusional if you think i’m not a hundred and ten percent obsessed with you.”

“oh fuck, ellie, your pussy feels s’good,” you whine, eyes watering when her other hand settles on your hip to guide you.

“does it, angel?” she moans breathily. “only you can get me like this.”

“you’re so wet, els,” you marvel. “your cunt’s so soft and so...so—”

“it’s all yours,” she whispers shakily, hips jerking because she’s close. “all yours, angel.”

and she’s crying out when you slip off of her, hands grabbing for you desperately.

she’s throwing her head back against your pillows when your lips latch onto her clit.

“oh, shit,” she moans. “wait, wait.”

but you don’t wait, in fact, your ministrations quicken, tongue lapping at the slick that gushes from ellie’s cunt.

“fuck, angel, i’m gonna—”

the broken moan that leaves ellie’s lithe body has you clenching your thighs. and you think she’s gonna cum, but her palm is firm against your forehead to push you away gently.

her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head when a string of spit webs from your chin to her clit.

“m’not cumming before you do,” she swallows. “this was supposed to be about you.”

“it is,” you assure her. “all i care about right now is making you cum.”

“jesus, you’re actually something else,” ellie sighs shakily, combing a tattooed hand through her damp locks.

you’re making a move to close in on her pussy again, but she’s pushing you onto your back, settling her achey cunt over your thigh as she circles both of your wrists in one hand.

“let me take care of you and you can do whatever you want with me for the rest of the night,” ellie promises, sloppy kiss turning into her licking into your mouth.

her fingers waste no time finding your folds, pads eager against your bud before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.

“how could you think i’d want any other pussy other than yours, angel?” she whispers against your mouth as she stuffs you knuckles deep. “this is all mine, you hear me? all fuckin’ mine.”

you nod, squirming against where she’s still got you confined with a bruising grip around your wrists.

“s’all yours, els,” you whimper.

“just like this pussy’s all yours,” she husks, hips rolling over the swell of your thigh. “would never fucking dream of giving myself to anyone but you.”

and god, ellie knows all the right things to say to have you winding tight.

you’re arching into her, jaw slack and eyes crossing as she hits that spot inside you that has you feeling fucking boneless.

“c’mon, angel,” she encourages you. “just once all over my fingers, then you can do whatever you want to me.”

the squelch has ellie’s thighs shaking as she rolls her hips, knuckles curling hard inside the warm heat of your needy pussy.

“don’t stop, els,” you beg her. “i’m gonna—”

she’s freeing your wrists, climbing from your thigh to settle on her knees at the end of the bed.

“wait, els, i’m gonna—”

and the moan that leaves you can be heard by the entire apartment block, no doubt, because ellie’s sucking your clit past her lips and eating you out like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.

the shit she’s murmuring against your folds is filthy, has you trying to squeeze your knees together because ellie’s that good.

“ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” you cry out when she adds a third finger.

it’s all it takes because a few moments later, your back’s arching all the way off the bed, thighs vibrating as she continues to toy with you through your orgasm.

“that’s it, angel,” ellie whispers. “ride it out.”

your chest heaves through the final waves, a sheen of sweat making your dewy skin look like it’s glistening under the lowlight of your bedside lamp.

“you did so fuckin’ good for me,” ellie says gently, standing naked between your parted legs as your arm drapes over your eyes in embarrassment.

“stop hiding,” she scolds, climbing to straddle you.

her hands are wandering, smoothing over every available expanse of skin as you cover your face and shy away from her.

she’s shocked when she pries your arm away and finds tears welling in your eyes.

“babe,” she calls incredulously. “why are you—”

“we wouldn’t have been in this situation if i wasn’t so immature and just talked to you about it,” you hiccup.

ellie’s face is falling, pulling you up to wrap you in her arms.

“babe, stop,” she whines softly, rocking you as a shudder rips down your spine. “i should’ve said something and i definitely shouldn’t have acted the way i did earlier. if anything i was immature.”

“you’re such a good girlfriend, ellie,” you whimper. “and i’m...i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” she stops you firmly, peeling away from you to thumb at your chin. “don’t do that.”

and you feel like such a big fucking baby as ellie repositions the two of you so that she’s leaning against your headboard and she’s pulling you against her sweaty chest.

“i’m sorry, ellie,” you choke again.

“stop apologizing,” ellie croaks, and you realize that the emotions are welling inside of her as well. “none of this was your fault, angel. i should’ve been honest and just told you, but i was scared.”

you’re still hiccuping, ear pressed over her heart.

“you’re my first real girlfriend in a really long time, and it doesn’t help that you’re so grossly out of my league, and—”

“ellie,” you chide.

“i don’t wanna mess things up with you,” she admits softly. “especially after the way we started.”

“i’d never hold that against you,” you swallow.

“and that’s what makes it worse. i know you wouldn’t even if you should,” ellie whispers. “and then today, i saw you with someone else and it made me so fucking mad because the two of you look so good together. it made me feel like i don’t deserve you.”

“els.” and you’re crying harder now, arms winding so tight around her waist, she feels like she’ll burst.

“i’m sorry,” ellie says gently. “you’ve always been so fucking good to me and—”

you’re leaning up, kissing her to shut her up before she starts crying and she’s cradling your face like you’re the most fragile thing.

“i love you so fucking much, ellie,” you tell her between kisses. “let’s just...let’s just put this behind us, okay?”

she nods, pulls from your lips to nestle her face in your neck.

“i love you more, angel,” she murmurs against your skin. “you don’t even know.”

neng © 2023

[mattsbabytomato]

Under The Blanket

pairing : matt x reader, chris x reader

summary : tension fills the room on a lazy afternoon

warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, praising, voyeurism, swearing, handjob, fingering

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: this is my first ever smut !! feedback would be appreciated ♡ i was planning on writing a part two (threesome) if this goes well so lemme know ◡̈ i hope you enjoy !!!

ps - i never write in general either so this is all so new

18+ MINORS DNI

it’s 7pm, the triplets and y/n had filled up on the burgers chris decided to make for the wednesday video. being struck with a food coma, the four decide to have a lazy night in with candy, popcorn and a good movie.

chris, being the youngest, fought for the corner of the couch so he could sprawl his legs out and lay comfortably, tucked underneath a big fluffy blanket. nick opted to lay on the floor whilst you and matt sat next to chris on the couch.

‘give me the bowl of popcorn!’ chris shouts. ‘chris, the popcorns for all of us, not just you.’ matt argues. ‘my god. give y/n the bowl and she can sit between you two. SIMPLE solution. i can’t stand you two bickering for the entire movie.’ nick chimes in. matt rolls his eyes, ‘you’d think chris is the king of the couch or something.' you giggle at the chaos, grabbing the bowl off of chris and placing it on your lap. chris smiles at you as he grabs a handful of popcorn. 

it wasn’t up in open air but this past week had brought a form of tension between you and chris. the two of you felt drawn to eachother in ways that you hadn’t before. you longed to be in each others' presence even if it meant sitting in silence. alas, chris leaned his head on your shoulder, having the pace of your heart increase.

matt on the otherhand also began to feel a strong desire creep in. he managed to hide it well but it didn’t help that tonight all you had worn was an oversized tee and black booty shorts. you leaned into chris, laying your head to rest on top of his. matt’s jealousy grew. 'why do they look like a couple?’ he thought. his mind wandered, his eyeline drifted slowly down her body, admiring her beauty before reaching her plump thighs. matt couldn’t help but stare, imagination growing wild. oh how he wished he could be between them, eating her out, making her scream out his name.

‘i’m cold… chris share your blanket. there’s enough for three of us to fit under there!’ you exclaimed causing matt to snap back into reality.

matt gestured his hand out, ‘yea i’m getting pretty cold too, pass the blanket mr king of the couch’. 

chris huffed giving matt the end of the blanket covering the three of you, leaving you sandwiched between the two boys.

‘this movie sucks, i’m gonna head to my room and edit the video.’ nick got up from the floor, footsteps growing quiet as he walked up the stairs, leaving the three alone.

the tension in the room got thicker. chris’ scent wafted to your nose and you couldn’t help it anymore. your hand travelled under the blanket laying it on his chest, his breathing growing more intense as you feel his chest rise and fall. chris looks over at the you, pupils dilated. you're his best friend... you're all of their best friend, he knew he shouldn’t take this further but your eyes showed him that you wanted this too. 

chris glanced over at matt to see his eyes fixated on the movie, not noticing the tension between the two. a newfound confidence taking over chris. he smirks at you, grabbing your hand and placing it over his clothed member, he’s already hard. your eyes widen at his confidence, a mixture of shock and excitement on your face. the idea of trying not to get caught causing trouble to your heat.

you take control and pull out chris' cock. you were covered by a blanket so how would matt know, right? 

chris lets out a shaky breath trying to stay quiet as you slowly stroke up and down. he’s bigger than you expected. you continue to tease chris, agonisingly slow until he takes his hand and places it on yours, speeding up your movement. this is so hot… your thighs clenching together, desire growing, you switch your position slightly to feel some sort of relief.

matt feels y/n ruffle so he turns to take a look. y/n had repositioned herself causing the blanket to fall off of matt. her shorts rode up having her ass on full display. fuck. matt wasn’t dumb, he could see it on chris face. the two were having a much more enjoyable movie experience. matt’s jealousy grew, he so badly wanted to be in chris’ position. that’s when the idea popped into his head. 

’there’s enough for three of us to fit under there’, y/n's words echo in his head. 

matt lifts the blanket off of your feet causing the both of you to freeze your actions. ’you two need to stop hogging the blanket’, you apologise while slowly stroking the long haired brunette underneath the blanket. ‘i just wanted to get more comfortable and the blanket fell’ matt smirks at you, knowing that you're longing for some sort of relief.  

matt brings the blanket over to cover your behind along with his lap. if his brother can have fun, why shouldn’t he as well?

you suddenly feel his fingers glide up your thigh, his cold rings causing you to let out a soft gasp. chris is too focused on the your movements to notice. you turn to face matt, his face written with lust as he dips his fingers into your panties. you're wet. his fingers toy with your clit as your legs spread wider to give him more access. 

she was desperate, he was desperate.

matt quickens the little circles he’s drawing on your bud, you bite your lip trying hard to not let out a moan. without realising, your strokes quicken, matching the pleasure you’re receiving. you turn to chris. his eyes shut tight nearing his high as he begins thrusting into your hand. 

matt can see chris is close but he wants your focus to be on him. he shoves two of his fingers into your tight hole making you gasp, you turn to look at matt, ‘you’re gonna get me caught’ you mouth. matt smirks increasing his speed, you fight to hold back your moans.

chris’ face is twisted with pleasure and as the scene on the screen gets louder so does chris. his breath heavy. he couldn’t hide it anymore, he thrusts up into your hand hard and fast. 'FUCK! Shit…’ he exclaims, but it’s masked under the sound of the action of the screen. you continue stroking as he comes down from his high as he quivers in your touch. chris looks into your eyes and watches as you brings your hand up to your mouth to lick his fluid off of your fingers. ’she’s so hot’ he thinks to himself as he stares at you in awe. 

‘i gotta use the bathroom’ chris says as he gets up quickly, trying his best to hide the mess in his grey sweats. 

as soon as chris is out of sight, matt grabs your face pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. ‘you’re such a little slut getting my brother off while i have my fingers inside of you.’ he flips you on all fours to pull your booty shorts down. he stares at your puffy cunt in admiration, ’look at how wet you are. think you can stay quiet with my dick inside of you?’ 

‘quick matt, i need you so bad. chris will be back any second.’ with that matt pulls his sweatpants down, just enough for his dick to spring out. he lines it up with your entrance and slowly pushes in letting out a raspy groan. ‘fuck, you’re so tight for me sweet girl’. 

y/n lets out a moan, covering her mouth when she hears footsteps slowly approaching. she frantically grabs the blanket to cover both their lower halves. matt continuing to pump in and out of her, pushing her hips down so she was now laying on her side. 

chris walks back into the room, returning to his spot on the couch. he smiles at the girl, grabbing the popcorn and settling it on his lap, completely oblivious to the scene occurring on the opposite end of the couch.

you push your hips towards matt causing him to throw his head back to let out a silent groan. his hand moves up to your hip, the pressure hard as he continues to thrust deep into your pussy. you needed to moan, scream, anything. 

‘chris..’ you say trembling and breathy. he turns to you in confusion. ‘could you grab me some iced water?’ i don’t feel to good’. concerned, he immediately gets up and heads to the kitchen.

when chris turns the corner, matt throws off the blanket to watch his dick disappearing inside of you. ‘fuck matt, you feel so good.’ he lets out an animalistic growl. ’this pussy was made for me sweetheart. such a good girl staying quiet for me. don’t want to get caught do we?’ he leans forward to kiss you, tongues fighting for dominance, filling eachothers mouths with lewd moans. 

‘matt i’m so close fuck’. the boy leans back up to thrust into you at a better angle, his hand moving down to your clit rubbing hard and fast. 

‘fuck matt im coming, OH. MY. GOD.’ your legs tremble, thighs clench together. 

‘i’m gonna come too. fuck, where do you want it?’ his hands grip your hips tightly, shoving himself deeper into you. ‘inside me please. i want to feel all of you.’

‘SHITTT’ he groans as he thrusts into your cunt two more times. ‘come for me matt’ you look back at him, locking eye contact. ‘FUCK. FUCK. FUCKKK.’ he shouts, not caring who hears him as he releases his liquid into you, coating your walls white. 

he slowly pulls out of you, watching the cum drip down your messy cunt. the two of you completely lost in your highs, dazed and out of breath. 

‘what. the. fuck.’ the two of you freeze and turn to the boy’s voice. 

chris stood there frozen with a glass of iced water. 

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #82

So I found out that besides beating the absolute tar out of Jason, Bruce also dragged him back to Ethiopia to relive his traumatic death/revival in hopes of finding a way to bring back a recently dead Damian[???]

Mind you, I absolutely hate thinking about how abusive Bruce is towards his kids and would rather pretend he’s a parent who tries, you know? But fuck if that cursed kernel of knowledge spark an idea:

There’s been a couple of fics that play with the idea that forcing a ghost to relive their death is a major taboo in the Ghost Zone, severely punishable and all that jazz.

Now it’s the aftermath [however that was, Idk], peeps are probably rejoicing over Damian’s revival [right?] and Jason’s most likely somewhere, you know, coping I assume. 

Until Walker is knocking on their door and demanding their presence to the Court of the Dead [Don’t remember if it had a name, this sounded pretty cool lol] stating that Batman’s presence is required to receive his sentence.

As all things are when it comes to Walker, he doesn’t give them a choice.

Jason’s call comes a bit more peacefully, mind you, but given it’s an eyeball, it probably wasn’t much better.

Cue Jason poofing onto some chair in some courtroom, thinking he’s the one in trouble, cue Batman poofing in that giant glass cage [You know, the one Vortex was stuck in upon his intro]

Everyone, predictably, are unarmed.

Jason is unsure what to feel at the sight of them.

Walker in all his weird size shifting glory, steps forward to loom over Bruce, large book in hand and sneering down at the human trapped before him, “Bruce Thomas Wayne, alias Batman, founding member of the Justice League, you’ve been summoned to the Court of the Dead to receive your sentence.”

“On what charges?”

Walker’s sneer deepened, “On what charges?, he says.”

The book in his hands quickly sift through pages, one after the other until it comes to a stop, popping up in a screen for all to see its contents, Death’s Echo, the chapter title says.

“Why, you’ve committed the ultimate taboo, human. Victim of the Echo: Jason Peter Todd, alias Red Hood alias Robin II, date of birth August 16th, 1993, date of death April 11th, 2008, date of awakening October 27th, 2008. Date of the crime d/m/y.

You’ve forced a ghost to relive their death, violated the peace of their core, potentially destabilizing a ghost’s existence. Upon Death’s Sermon, or for the betterment of your puny human understanding: You broke a law, a law punishable by termination.”

“He’s not dead.” Despite what become of their relationship, all the bloody conflicts that have followed, Bruce can’t stand the idea of Jason dying. 

One of the many eyeballs that seem to take up the majority of the court, steps - ahem! floats - forward, and despite lacking any other facial features, gives him what is noticeably a look Alfred would give him when he’s being particularly bull-headed, “That is irrelevant. The boy still carries the mark of death with him, therefor is still a denizen of the Infinite Realms, therefor still falls under our jurisdiction.”

“And all rights to the Court’s defense.” Walker adds, closing the book in his hand with a pointed snap, “You’ve been out ruled, punk.”

The batfam are looking around them as the entire room full of ghost clamor for Bruce’s termination, angry and indignant alike.

Tim - despite all his years of training - panics and doesn’t think twice before standing from his seat and calling the large ghost’s attention, ignoring Dick’s frets, “And where’s your evidence? Where are your witnesses to back up these claims, do you even have any?" 

The sudden silence is almost smothering, and Jason can’t help but watch as all eyes turn to the boy in question.

In all honesty, he doesn’t know how to feel about all this, about Bruce being charged for what basically amounts to torture in these creatures’ eyes, not even over the fact that he still seems to be considered dead. 

"For a genius, for a detective, you don’t seem to know much about death, do you?”

The ghost all seem to straighten at the sound of the voice, almost like they’re a classroom being called to attention. Despite its calm volume, it carries throughout the whole room, demanding everyone’s attention, their respect.

The bats immediately zero in on the source, a large chair big enough to be considered a throne sits in the first floor, enshrouded by shadows, the lighting of the room doesn’t seem to touch it at all, only lit by the green flame of a crown. Showing them measly impressions of a man’s face. 

The man stands, steadily walking forward till he’s standing in the light. He’s tall, broad, looks about Bruce’s age, and is donning black armor. His presence fills the whole room.

He bothers Bruce only a glance as he passes him before he fixes his attention back on the boy. 

“Now I know you’re not naive, Tim Drake. Death is everywhere, no matter how seemingly clean, no matter how peaceful, there’s no place on this planet death hasn’t touched; death is my domain, I see and I hear the voices of those who have passed - do you know what that means?”

“You have eyes everywhere.” Tim concluded, uneasy in what this might mean.

“I do. Now I can show you and your siblings the whole event, but for the sake of Jason’s continued peace of mind, I will not. Point stands: This is not a trial, Timothy, this is a sentence - your father does not get defendants or supposed witnesses to offer evidence of his supposed innocence, there isn’t any.”

Tim doesn’t know what to feel when the man turns his attention towards Jason, who despite the harrowing experience, has remained utterly silent throughout the whole endeavor. Jason despite his mass and his known capabilities, looks meek under the ghost’s attention, bracing for whatever he might say.

It’s off-putting.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, detectives, that very much includes the victim in question. Now Jason, I want you to answer me honestly, and I promise you that you’re safe here, can you do that?”  

Jason’s eyes swept over the whole room, glancing at his siblings before stopping on Bruce, still silent, still ever brooding and angry, before offering a small shrug in response, “I guess.”

“Did he force you to relive your death and subsequent revival?”

“………He did.”

Jason thought it was a chance to join in on a collaborative mission, all hands on deck and all that jazz, hoping for reconciliation, to mend things.

“Did you give your consent on the matter?”

He just wanted to move on, to leave all that anger and resentment, all that pain, behind him. He thought Bruce wanted the same, but apparently not, Bruce didn’t seem to care about what he was asking of him, he just wanted some chance to get his son back.

Like Jason never mattered.

Jason offers a small shake of head in response, trying to ignore the way everyone stared at him, “No.”

The man gives him a reassuring smile, bowing his head in gratitude and Jason only feels relieved to be rid of the attention as the king looks towards the rest of the family

“Lucky for you, however, Bruce is still very much human. So he won’t be facing termination,”

“Your highness -” A swift hand silence the skull faced ghost

They don’t relax, they can tell there’s more to the offered appeasing.

The family sits in silence as this kings dishes out Bruce’s punishment. 

Any further interaction Batman has will be on Jason’s terms, he will not seek Jason out, he will not make demands, he will certainly not impose his will on him.

Along that, he is no longer permitted to step foot in Crime Alley and anywhere else that might be considered Jason’s territory [haunt, they called it haunt, it felt daunting being showed the ghostly significance in it.] without expressed permission. If there’s a moment in time where Batman’s presence suddenly becomes unwanted, Jason apparently possesses the power to evict him.

Bruce is stripped of any sort of control he might’ve had over his wayward son. The court is in Jason’s favor for once, it seems.

Batman is not allowed to use anyone else in his favor. 

Bruce Wayne certainly isn’t exempt from these demands. The Ghost King seems to know them very well [Eyes. Everywhere] and seemed to be prepared for them to seek out any loopholes.

Any attempts to disregard these demands and he will be guarded. Heavily. By shadows, and by his very own ghosts.

The ghost king derives a lot of pleasure in informing Bruce that his parents never left his side, watched his struggles, watched his successes, his relationships with partners and children alike. 

Jason almost wants to say it seems cruel to throw in Bruce’s face the disappointment his parents feel in Bruce’s…..less stellar parenting methods.

He’s still trying not to think about the fact everyone is apparently being haunted by the souls of the people most important to them.

Bruce remains utterly silent, looking for all the world like the weight on his shoulders has double, troubled as the time pressed on, until he utters.

“And how long will this sentence be?”

“Until you both can completely trust - no wait, scratch that, Jason already trusted you, had faith in you, something of which you had no remorse in taking advantage of. No, until you learn how to trust him.”

The bats try not to wince at that.

[daemour]

Promise - Hongjoong

Part of Anthology

Every two weeks, I will post a drabble (and sometimes longer) alongside a prompt that went with it. The prompts may be songs, scenarios, or more.

M: Hongjoong

Wc: 1874

Warnings: Cursing, arguments

Genre: angst, some fluff, hurt/minimal comfort, e for everyone, established relationship

Summary: An argument with your boyfriend turns into something worse, and you're not sure how to come back from it

-

Hongjoong works hard, it’s not hard to see. He spends all his time in the studio whenever there’s a comeback, a tour, or an event. It’s commendable, and you love him for it, but it also wears down on your relationship. It’s the fifth time he’s come home late this week, and the other two days he just didn’t show up, sleeping on the work couch. You tried to bring up your worries as peacefully as possible, honest you did. But sleep-deprived and stressed-out Hongjoongs are not known for their patience.

“Hongjoong, I’m just trying to make sure you take care of yourself.” You’re done with this argument, but it appears your boyfriend is not.

“I don’t need you to do that, (Y/N),” Hongjoong bites back. “I’m a grown adult and I can make my own decisions.”

You shake your head, exasperated. “I didn’t imply you were anything else, but why don’t you try acting like a grown adult then?” You’re definitely not helping the argument end, but at this point, you’re quite annoyed at him. “You can’t not take care of yourself and then get mad at me for worrying. I’m not your parent, so stop making me baby you.”

“Then fucking leave,” Hongjoong’s voice comes out cold and you recoil. The two of you have had your fair share of fights, as all couples do, but never before had Hongjoong used that tone on you. No matter how angry he was at you, he wouldn’t ever speak to you like a pest in his life, nor has he ever cursed at you in a serious manner.

“Fine. Fuck you too, then,” you hiss, tears filling your eyes. Without another word, you spin on your heel and leave him standing in the middle of the living room by himself.

As you head down the street with nothing but your phone, you start to regret your decision. It would’ve been more safe and just as impactful if you locked yourself in the bedroom for a few hours. It’s windy and the fall air has a chill to it, and as if to prove your point, you feel drops of rain on the top of your head. As soon as you duck under the roof of a nearby convenience store, it starts to pour and you roll your eyes angrily, the bad weather not helping your anger at all.

After letting the anger stew in your gut for a minute, you pull out your phone with a sigh. You debate calling Hongjoong, but you’re still sore from the fight and would much rather eat grated cardboard than be stuck in a car with him. Your friends are not an option because they’d immediately notice your anger and you can’t tell them about your relationship with Hongjoong, nor do they know you’re even in a relationship in general. So you call the next best option.

“(Y/N)?” What’s up?” Understandably, Wooyoung's voice is full of confusion. You have all of the Ateez members’ numbers in case of emergency, but you’ve never needed to call them aside from Seonghwa once. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue, but I got caught in the rain after an argument with Hongjoong and I don’t really want to be in a car with him right now.”

Wooyoung sighs. “I told Seonghwa it was a bad idea to let Hongjoong go home all pissed,” he mutters to himself or another member, you don’t know. “I’ll be right there, okay? Send me your location.”

“Yeah. Thank you,” you sniff and end the call, not wanting to seem even more pitiful than you already feel. One text from Hongjoong glares at your face. ‘This is Yunho. Come back when the storm ends.’ With a scoff, you delete the notification and huffily enter the convenience store.

One iced tea later, Wooyoung walks in, San tagging behind him to no one's surprise. “(Y/N),” San greets you with a smile and it hits you that Hongjoong hadn’t smiled once at you the entire time he was home that day. “Are you doing all right?”

At the kindness you miss seeing from Hongjoong, you break down. San and Wooyoung immediately surround you, wrapping you in their arms and ushering you to the car where you can cry in peace. Once you’ve calmed down enough, you explain everything with the occasional hiccup and sniffle. “I shouldn’t have pushed him, but he’s never said that to me before,” you end with a groan and let your head fall on the back of the passenger seat.

“No, yeah, that was out of line for him to say,” Wooyoung says and San makes a noise of agreement. “I get being tired, we all are and he has worked extra hard, but he shouldn’t take it out on you. He knew he was frustrated, and he should’ve taken some space or even asked you for some space more politely.”

“It wasn’t your fault, (Y/N). You weren’t looking to argue, it only escalated because he snapped,” San reassures you.

You sigh, nodding miserably when your phone dings. This time, Yunho texts you from his own phone. ‘Come back soon…he’s worried and so he’s angrier’ and it’s followed by a couple of emojis. You frown. “Should I go back? Yunho is with him and says he’s angrier cus he’s worried.”

San and Wooyoung exchange a look before Wooyoung speaks up, turning the key in the ignition. “Tell you what, we’ll go with you and if Hongjoong acts out of pocket again, we’ll bring him back to the dorm and get a manager noona to stay the night with you.” And as much as you don’t want to inconvenience one of their staff, you also don’t want to be left alone in the apartment and you begrudgingly agree.

When you walk back in the door, you see Hongjoong pacing the floor with Yunho on the couch attempting to placate him. “Hey guys,” he waves and you smile back and mouth a ‘thank you’ just as Hongjoong registers Yunho’s words.

“Where were you?” Hongjoong whirls around and glares.

“I left, just like you told me to, Joong. Are you ready to to talk like adults now?”

“Don’t lecture me when you went gallivanting into the rain with your holier-than-thou attitude,” Hongjoong starts to argue again but San’s low, dangerous voice interrupts.

“Finish that thought and you’ll have more pressing things to worry about, hyung. You’re coming back to the dorm. Now.”

Hongjoong scoffs. “You can’t kick me out of my own apartment,” he glowers, crossing his arms.

You’ve had quite enough. “They can’t but I can. Get out, Hongjoong. You’ve relentlessly insulted me and I do not deserve the attitude you think I do. Go to the dorms and cool down and don’t come back until you’re ready to act your age. The lease is in my name, I can and will kick you out right now, Kim Hongjoong.”

You’re tired, and you exit the room without another word, slamming the bedroom door behind you. You hear murmurs in the hallway and the faint noise of footsteps fades. A knock sounds on your door and you recognise Yunho’s voice. “I’m sorry about him, (Y/N). He’s been testy for the past few weeks. I called our manager to come and I’ll leave once she gets here. Take care of yourself and I beg of you, please don’t hate him.”

His voice fades and you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Your thoughts swirl in your head, confusion, hurt, all of the above. And once you hear the quiet mumblings of Yunho and the manager silence, you let the tears spill out of your eyes and you fall asleep soon after.

When you awaken the sun is up and you can hear the manager talking with someone in quiet tones. You’re somewhat sure of who it is, but you’re not sure you want to deal with that. It appears you’re going to have to, however, as the door closes and you hear familiar footsteps walking down the hall. Grumpily, you cover yourself with the blanket and do your best to pretend to sleep.

“(Y/N)? Can we talk?” You don’t grace him with a response but he’s known you for too long to fall for your acting. “I know you’re awake.”

“There’s not much to talk about,” you mumble under your breath but he hears you anyway and the bed dips as he sits beside your body.

"There's a lot to talk about, (Y/N)," Hongjoong's voice is quiet. "Let me lead with this—I'm sorry."

You tighten your grip on the covers. "Are you sorry or are you just trying to suck up to me? This isn't something we can just gloss over."

Hongjoong laughs sullenly. "Yes, Seonghwa made sure I understood that clearly," he sighs and you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of Seonghwa reprimanding his leader. "You know, Jongho threatened me?"

You manage a chuckle. "That I can believe."

A hand rests on where he guessed your head to be and you don't shake off the touch. "But aside from that, I really am sorry. I had no right to take my anger out on you or lash out, especially like that. You didn't deserve that." Hongjoong still speaks softly, solemnly. "I know I hurt you and I promise to do all I can to remedy that."

You pull the covers down a little to peek at him. "My anger waned a while ago, Joong. I'm more hurt than anything and I hope for your sake and mine that you never do it again."

Hongjoong nods and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "I promise you, I'll hold you tight always."

-

Bonus:

"Hongjoong, I hope you know how immensely disappointed I am in you. " Seonghwa's glare and his crossed arms are what greet Hongjoong at the entrance into the dorm. Hongjoong groans but Seonghwa just shakes his head and the leader silences. "For someone chosen to be a leader, you do a shit job under stress."

"I know you're mad, but you will give me respect," Hongjoong hisses at the sound of Seonghwa cursing, but the oldest member tsks.

"Well, now you know exactly what you put poor (Y/N) through, and she handled it a hell of a lot better than you did." The rest of the members' heads peek around the corner to stare at the rare sight of Hongjoong getting scolded and the leader has half a mind to tell them off but Seonghwa's having none of that. "I want you to ruminate on the damage you caused to your relationship, and apologise first thing in the morning. (Y/N) loves you, Hongjoong, and you better work hard to prove you deserve it."

At Seonghwa's tone, Hongjoong finally slips out of the daze he's been in all day and his eyes widen. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Seonghwa nods. "You did. Fix it the best you can and I'm sure she will forgive you."

"I peomise I will," Hongjoong declares and Seonghwa smiles but his arms remain crossed.

"You tell her that. I don't need to hear it."

[reviewdiaries]

Nancy x Ace and the riddle of knowledge in 4x11

The sweet smell of being right on the money, I love it. You know what else I love? The development in this episode. Because things in Horseshoe Bay have gone from suspicious AF to completely demented, and I am HERE FOR IT.

We finally have confirmation for why things have felt so off these last few episodes. And we’ve started to explore the jenga puzzle, if I remove this one thing - vanished as though it never existed - what else falls down? What other relationships and feelings change? Can they be pieced back together again?

Let’s start with my boy Ace, because I personally am really enjoying his storyline. Do I completely get where the frustration lies for those who would have liked to see more pining and curse breaking and TENSION? Absolutely. I too would have loved that, because Ace and Nancy serve up delicious tension for breakfast, and it’s a treat to watch it. But I’m also genuinely enjoying seeing what we’ve got, because it’s all about growth.

Ace has been given time and space this series to find himself and flourish. He’s fought through heartbreak, and yes, that heartbreak has been distorted, we know that now. Can feel the chiming sense of wrong wrong wrong, how his feelings towards Nancy have shifted, vanishing like smoke in the air. Memories and feelings erased until there’s nothing left but the bare bones of a friendship and an aching sense of something gone - reaching for his phone in the middle of the night before realising he has no idea why. Because suddenly he’s left with the sense of a relationship that stalled before it could start, an idle heartbreak, the feeling of throwing himself into work, into the next mystery, the next person who shows an interest. A tension under his skin that he can’t ever explain. But he’s found a job that he loves, he’s carving out his own space, learning where to prioritise, where the important parts of him lie, where they join together, and how to take up his own space in the world.

His sense of self worth is still battered, his issues with his parents rampant, but he’s starting to hold his ground, mark his own boundaries, find an inner steel we’ve not yet seen in him. He’s always been so quick to please, to try and do what others have wanted, and this episode we’re finally seeing him stand his ground. 

We haven’t ever seen his parents come into his space before, and we get that not once but three times in this episode. We see the tension and friction between him and his father (which we haven’t seen much of but was alluded to greatly in the first couple of seasons) and we see how his mother tries desperately to keep the peace whilst supporting her son. 

GIF Credit @goodobservationshirley

I love this moment. Because Rebbeca is right. The Claw is absolutely Ace’s house, and that means that she and his father are coming to him to lead, they are stepping into his space and they are going to treat it as his, can acknowledge that it’s his, which is such a huge thing. Sure his dad is dismissive and thinks it’s going to go terribly, but that line is drawn. This is Ace’s space, and that means he is the head of the house.

As he becomes more preoccupied with his ghost he becomes less passive with his father. He stands up for himself, he refuses to be cowed by the disappointment, the expected failure. He does this on his terms. And yeah, he stumbles at the start, but he doesn’t let that phase him, he carries on, he leads. He steps into his own and it is such a joy to see. By the end of the episode we have that beautiful moment where his dad comes to tell him how well he did. And moments like this? They’re everything. The growth, the evolution of their relationship. The way they start to meet each other as equals instead of Ace cowering before his dad, it’s amazing to watch.

And then the confrontation with Nancy. Oh guys, they needed this. Sure, it’s about the ghost, not about them. How can they get this argument out when they don’t even remember their feelings for each other? But this is the first time that Ace asserts himself. Stop. I do not consent to what you’ve done. Stop. He never stands up to Nancy. Never holds space for himself, for his needs. The closest we’ve seen him come is 4x02 when he’s desperately pushing for her to tell him what he’s missing. But even then he doesn’t come out and say it, he doesn’t communicate effectively, doesn’t express himself. He acts the part of the spurned wife, veiling everything behind passive aggressive snark and stone wall silence. 

This is everything. This is beautiful. This is communication. Expressing what he needs, what he wants, and refusing to back down. This is everything that they have been missing. I’ve said it over and over and over this season, so much of their problem has been their inability or willingness to communicate openly with each other. And here, laying down the groundwork, is the first step. The first flag Ace is planting. A map of muscle memory for the next time he needs to hold his head high and say stop, no, this is not what I want. 

But as he starts to find those boundaries, Nancy is finding her sense of self eroded. She is floundering, desperate, panicked by the timeline she’s been thrust into, desperate now she knows there are too smooth edges where her memories have been stitched together. Suddenly she doesn’t know herself, doesn’t trust herself. What is her and what is what’s left behind when it’s been taken - the trip on the pavement versus the assault? What would she do, what could she possibly have deemed so bad it had to be removed? Because this Nancy, the Nancy with the pieces removed, she doesn’t have the framework of her love for Ace, the undying certainty that she would do anything for the man she loves, even tear herself to pieces with her bare hands and a handful of words whispered in the dark. She only has an aching sense of loss and a hundred shifting pieces she can no longer make sense of. 

So she goes back to the basics. Back to the handful of things she can hold onto, the facts of the case. Over and over and over as she spirals into panic and fear and the desperate certainty that she is broken beyond repair, irredeemable, lost and alone.

She knows the date. She knows the time. She knows the call log on her phone. The memories are gone but the facts are there. A handful of truths to hold onto and whisper to herself in the dark. We have seen Nancy at her best and at her worst. But even at her worst - lost in the depths of the Hudson name and sure that she can only be the worst version of herself, she knew her mind. Trusted her memories. Could hold onto the pieces of her that she knew to be true. But this, this is a violation that she knows is self inflicted. A scalpel precise removal of pieces of her she doesn’t even know to miss.

We now have a definitive timeline - Ace called Nancy after the boat trip, after the memorial, her hair still wet from washing buttercream icing out. There’s around twenty minutes between that and her going to call on the Sin Eater. And Nancy, because she’s shaken, she’s been given proof that she’s done something she can’t imagine ever doing, no longer trusts herself, no longer trusts what she’d do, what terrible atrocities she could commit. She goes to Ace and tells him that she thinks they are responsible for the Jane Doe.

GIF Credit @whitefluffyyeti 

 But that doesn’t track, that doesn’t make sense. The Nancy we know and love would never try and erase a murder, cover up something terrible. She’d face it head on, hold herself to the same truth and justice ideal that she holds everyone to, because as far as she’s concerned she’s not special, she’s not above this. If she did something wrong she’d take herself to the police station and confess.

So that’s not it. 

But Nancy would also do absolutely anything for those she loves. Not murder, not hiding something like that. But she would absolutely run to the Yacht Club to erase something to save someone she loves, someone like Ace. It’s something time critical, otherwise why would she go there so quickly. She’s desperate. But it’s not something illegal, no for that she’d call Carson, get a lawyer involved, get it sorted out the right way. She’s not always stayed on the right side of the law - too many opportunities to show up the police when they can’t do their jobs, use her lockpicks, her sleuthing beanie. But if it was something illegal, something bad, something murderous, there is no way she’d erase it, she’d work on building the strongest defence possible, but she wouldn’t undo it.

I don’t believe it’s that they accidentally triggered the curse either. We’ve seen before, the Sin Eater erases the memory, it can’t undo the damage. If the curse were triggered, if Ace were doomed to die, the Sin Eater wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop it.

So what does that leave? I genuinely have no clue. There are some great theories floating around about that night, about the Captain of the ship mysteriously cancelling, about the curse that Ace drops overboard. Something about that is off. And we can no longer trust what we’re being shown as viewers. Is what we see the truth? Or is it the altered version after the Sin Eater has removed it from the characters’ collective consciousness? Did Ace and his dad have a lovely bonding fishing trip or did something else happen? Did Nancy and Ace actually have that conversation as we saw it? Clearly not. But what have we had erased? What parts are missing? What jigsaw pieces are we going to be gifted to fill in to make the picture make sense?

My two cents, for what they’re worth - I don’t believe the ghost and the Jane Doe are the same. I think these are two things thrown together to make us think they’re the same. If the Captain theory holds true I’m willing to bet that they’re the burned corpse. But I think the ghost is the figurehead from The Governance. 

The Governance was stormed away from its original course thanks to the Aglaeca - thanks founders and your truly terrible treatment of women. Like I was in a storm. 

They then ripped the boat to pieces and left the figurehead as a protector of the Black Door, literally in the basement. The sky is gone.

The figurehead that has watched over as they tried over and over to merge the Sin Eater with the stolen children. There’s only one left.

She’s ethereal, not wearing the clothes she died in, but a white robe - like an angel, like a woman in white, like a being of magic. And Nancy Drew have been at great pains to point out throughout that there is a balance. Plugonia - plural, one doll for evil, one for light. What if the figurehead is not just a watcher, but part of the literal balance of the Sin Eater?

Now, @flythesail has done a truly excellent post exploring this theory which makes me feel much less like I’m going crazy connecting dots that aren’t there, and I highly recommend checking it out, because she does a fab job exploring the ideas of reincarnation that the writers are bringing into play this season, and makes a very compelling argument for this.

And once you start putting those pieces in, suddenly Nancy and Ace behaving as they are over the ghost and Tristan begins to make even more sense than memory erasure and heartbreak. And honestly, that’s not a sentence I ever thought I’d say.

But the thread has been found - how can you find a thread to pull when you don’t even know it’s missing waiting to be discovered? Against all the odds the photo, the timeline, it’s starting to emerge. And we know how Nancy gets once there’s a mystery. That desperate all consuming urge to uncover the truth, the light, the justice for a town steeped in darkness and secrets, for the people caught up in the web, for herself.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

From The Jump

From The Jump

Wordcount: 2990

Dean Winchester x POC!Reader “Wildflower”

Summary:

He is the kindest thing that has ever happened to me. Even if that isn’t how our story is always told.

Warnings:

18+ MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Humor, Flowery Words (I'm a published poet, sue me)

Notes:

Hello Heathens, Damn I haven’t written for just Dean in a minute. This felt good to get out. Inspired by “From The Jump (Duet Version)” by James Arthur & Kelly Clarkson. I even used some of the lyrics which will be in bold. Be sure to check the song out, it’s amazing. Also I know I write a lot of my reader inserts with the reader having the ability to sing, but music is a huge part of my life. Other than writing and film, singing was always my escape from the chaos. So if the trope seems tired from me by now, get used to it. I write what I know. And what I know is that music is therapeutic. Happy Reading!

Banner @cafekitsune

Divider @firefly-graphics

A random hole in the wall bar out in the middle of nowhere an open mic is happening. Dean has been secretly performing at them from time to time while out on solo missions or when Sam is preoccupied since his early 20s. He actually has a lovely voice and a way with words. 

My past with the infamous hunter is complicated. I know all about his little secret. We met after his time at the boys home where Robin taught him to play the guitar, among other things. We were young and dumb. The children of hunters. The weight of the world on our shoulders just looking for an escape.

Be that in guitar strings, joy rides, stargazing, or stolen kisses under the shade of a willow tree that lead to so much more. We might not have shared every first that summer, but we sure did knock off quite a few big ones.

From there on, as it goes for most hunting families, we ran into each other from time to time. Sometimes going after the same case. Sometimes overlapping cases. No matter the reason, we always fell back into place like time never passed. Like it was that first summer all over again.

Only now our stolen kisses lead us to fall into bed, or the backseat of the Impala. Over the last couple of years, as the boys have become more stable having found the bunker, our kisses have become far less stolen and more so intentional.

You would believe that it was a natural progression for us. That time just did it’s thing and we fell in love slowly. But the truth is, from day one I knew he was mine and I was his. No matter what life threw at us or where we were in the world, our souls were tethered to each other. Rubberbanding us back to one another when we were apart for too long.

That’s what I choose to believe is happening tonight. The only plausible reason why I stepped into this bar, during this open mic to find Dean on stage, guitar in hand finishing his first song of the night.

The room is hazy from the cigarette smoke permanently wafting through the air. It gives me just the right amount of cover to slink my way to the side of the stage. Who I presume to be one of the staff is standing nearby, clipboard in hand, making sure everyone performing tonight gets there due time.

Dean begins to play a chord progression very familiar to me. A song I know all too well. His smooth voice carries out amongst the crowd. Making the women swoon and the men take note.

Right from the jump I was addicted, I was hooked on you Like July is to the sun You're the one that I prayed for all my life And then you arrived, it's amazing How the time flies by Do you remember, my baby?

He has no idea that I’m here.

I can’t tell you why I decided to tap the woman with the clipboard on the shoulder. I just felt like I needed to be up on that stage pouring my heart out with him. I explained that I was his bandmate and apologized for my tardiness but I needed a mic so that I could hurry up and get on stage before my part of the duet started. That I didn’t need to be announced. She frantically looked for the nearest wireless mic and turned it on. Shoving it into my chest and shooing me away with a hand motion.

I kept myself tucked into the shadows as he lost himself through the chorus.

Take me back to the summer breeze We were sleeping out by the willow trees It was the first time you laid your head on my chest It was a night I will never forget That's when I told you on a Friday night You're always gonna have this heart of mine Wherever we go, whatever we do I just wanna spend forever with you

As he strums along, preparing to sing the next verse, I step forward and steal the words before he can fully register what is happening.

I know this sounds cliché But I was in love with you from the first sight Like a moth drawn to a flame, mm

A smile spreads across his handsome face as I make my way across the tiny stage to stand beside him.

And I know even in another life I would find you and hold you Remember I told you I'll never let go, baby?

The smoke filled room fades out as we sing to each other. As if we were still tucked in the privacy of his room back at the bunker. Playing around, creating songs about our sordid lives. 

I allow myself a moment to get lost in the depths of his mossy green eyes as we belt out my favorite part.

So get on your favorite dress (my favorite dress) Let's drive back to the place we met I knew I'd die for you right from the jump

I’m reminded of the bar patrons we’re performing in front of as the crescendo hits. A whistle splits through the air, forcing my eyes toward the crowd. Where I spot couples, new and old, swaying along to the beat. Chest to chest and cheek to cheek without a care in the world.

I allow myself to just listen to Dean begin the final chorus alone. Letting his words seep deep into my bones, as they have in the past. A stupid grin upon my face as I join in. Singing about it being a moment I would never forget.

Honestly this moment right here truly has become one.

Dean softly sings out the remaining lines as he strums out his final chords. The next thing I know, his hands are on my face and he is pulling me in for a kiss. 

This isn’t your average run of the mill, sweet hello kiss. No, this is a soul deep claim made public. One I return back in kind.

I’ve always equated our love to that of Hades and Persephone. He stole my heart, along with my soul that first night under the summer sky. Holding me hostage over the remaining days until we had to go our separate ways.

I never could forget our time together. Even when I tried. And there were many a time that I truly tried. I just always found my way back to him.

The only person who seemed to ever soothe my aching soul.

The applause and catcalls pierced our lovesick bubble. Reminding us of where we were.

With a nod to the crowd, Dean gathered up his guitar and we headed off the stage to the safety of the shadows.

Once his guitar was securely placed within the confines of his travel case, all of his attention was turned back onto me.

“Well, hey there Wildflower. Not that I’m complaining but what brought you to this particular bar in the middle of bumfuck nowhere tonight of all nights?”

“I was actually on my way to the bunker to try and catch you between cases. I had been on the road for most of the day. Thought I deserved a nightcap before resting up for the night and this was the first place I came across.”

“Well ain't that a coincidence.”

“You know I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“I know you don’t. But you have to admit it seems pretty convenient. We were about to head back from a case in town and Sam wanted the room to himself for a couple hours to talk to Eileen. I saw there was an open mic tonight while we're gathering intel earlier this week. Figured it was as good a time as any to sign up. It’d been a while since I’d done one. And you not only show up, but surprise me on stage as well. That’s just too good to be true.”

“Well it is true so no need for the divine intervention talk. I think we get enough of that on a daily basis.”

“I have to agree with you there. So should we take this reunion to some place a little more private?”

“Baby?”

“Motel is within walking distance, so I left her behind with Sam. You bring Trixie?”

I give him a glare. “Do you know me to go anywhere without my precious?”

“Of course not sweetheart. So where’s she parked?”

“In the back corner of the tiny ass pothole filled lot.”

“Perfect.” He kisses my lips. “Lead the way, baby girl.”

With a tap to my hip, he grabs his guitar and follows me out the door to the parking lot. My precious Plum Crazy 1970 Dodge Demon drawing us forward like moths to the flame.

Dean has me propped on the trunk of my car as soon as he has his guitar secured inside. His broader frame sandwiched between my thighs as we makeout like the lovestruck teenagers we once were. Forgetting there is such a thing as air we need to breathe.

With reluctance I pull out of the kiss. Dean’s lips chasing mine and providing me a nip to the chin for the inconvenience. I have far naughtier things in mind for our impromptu reunion than just making out in a dark parking lot on my car.

“You gonna let me ride you properly this time pretty boy?”

This gets his attention. A smirkish grin adorning his handsome face.

“No promises. These wicked hips tend to do naughty naughty things that make my brain short circuit. I can't control what my instinctual hindbrain does.”

He squeezes said body part to emphasize his point.

“Best crawl into the back seat then. Unless you want to give the bar a show.”

He lifts me off the trunk with a growl and smacks my ass. Walking himself over to the passenger side, my keys still in hand, to unlock the door. Pushing the seat forward to gain access to the back seat.

“After you, Wildflower.”

I bend over to make my way into the back when feel Dean’s hands clamp around my hips.

“Actually Imma need ya to unbutton your fly and slide your jeans down to your calves for me sweetheart. Need to sear you bending over for me so sweetly into my brain.”

I’ve always had a weakness for when Dean got controlling like this. It does something to his voice. Turning it all gravelly and rough, like he can't contain how much he needs me.

So I do as I’m told and unbutton my fly. Lowering my ripped jeans to my knees. Exposing my soaked tiny lilac lace panties to the chill night air.

“Fuuuck. Look at that wet patch. This all for me baby girl?”

He runs his thumb down the damp gusset. Resting it on my clit with just the right amount of pressure to make me squirm. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Get in the back seat Wildflower. And keep that delectable ass up in the air for me.”

I climb into the back with the best of my ability as my jeans are currently wrapped around my knees. Thankfully they slip down to my calves, to allow me more room to move.

The time between when I get myself settled into the back and Dean’s tongue assaults my weeping slit, feels like the blink of an eye.

He didn't even wait to remove my panties properly. He just ripped them apart and threw them aside.

Any thoughts of complaint have left my brain as his tongue does that thing I love that sends a shiver down my spine.

He is feasting upon my dripping flesh as if it is the sweetest nectar and he fears this may be his only chance to partake in its bounty. Regardless of the countless times he has bathed himself in my essence before.

An orgasm creeps underneath my skin in record time. Having me grip the leather of the bench below as I cry my ecstasy out into the night.

With a final lick and soft kiss to my clit Dean makes his way into the backseat with me. “I’ll never grow tired of how you taste on my tongue.” 

He takes a moment to free my ankles from the confines of the jeans trapped around them. Satisfied that I have full movement again, he scoops me up into his lap as he takes a seat in the middle of the bench. Allowing for his bow legs to spread out.

“Still want to ride me properly baby girl? Got enough energy? You’re looking rather sated at the moment.”

I nod my head. “Of course I am. You know what that tongue does to me. But I am always ready and willing to ride you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He grips my ass and squeezes. “Better get to it then.”

He does me the kindness of freeing himself from the confines of his jeans. His thick cock standing at attention. Precum coating the tip making it shine in the dim light of the darkened parking lot.

With a grip to his base I lower myself down onto his generous girth. That first stretch after time apart is like a balm to my aching center. I brace my hands on his broad shoulders, tilt my head back and let my instincts take over. 

Riding him as my body seems fit to do. Uncaring of how I may look. Just fulfilling the need my body so desperately craves. Hitting all the spots that make stars alight behind my eyes.

The core strength needed to ride in such a way can become tiring rather quickly. Before I know it Dean is fucking up into me from below. As if he could no longer hold himself still. I give in to the pull of giving up control in this moment.

He must sense my surrender as I find myself spun around and bent over the front seat, as Dean fucks me senseless from behind. Using my hips like handlebars and pulling me back into him with every thrust. 

Losing himself in my silken walls. Uncaring of the fogged up glass and the rocking of the chassis. Nothing compares to when our bodies are intertwined together after being without the mother for so long. It's like a soul reunification every time.

He pushes my hair to the side, exposing my neck to the hot sticky air of the interior. Open mouth kisses are placed along my shoulders as his deft fingers play with my sensitive clit. Bringing me that much closer to my inevitable high. 

My voice pitches into that sultry whine that feels like heaven to his ears. A melody created just for him. Crafted by his own hands and it is time for this tune to reach its crescendo. 

Brought on by the pleasurable pain of his teeth sinking into the flesh at the back of my neck. A place he has claimed time and time again. Where it can be shown with pride but concealed when need be. It never fails to send me over the edge. 

My orgasm has been on a hairpin trigger. The slightest pressure of his teeth against the delicate skin of my neck rockets me off into the stratosphere.

A cacophony of moans and groans fills the stifling air around us as my cunt convulses. Setting off the only man who has ever had my heart, into his own release. With every pulse of my walls and the creamy twitch of his cock, our bodies finally feel complete again.

“I'll never get tired of this.” I think aloud as I trace the buttons of his red flannel.

“Tire of what?”

“The calmness of your body after a great orgasm. The steady rhythm of your heart that tries to lull me to sleep.”

“Mmm.” He kisses the top of my head that is lying on his chest. “Nothing beats your afterglow when I've thoroughly wrecked you. You melt into me like warm apple pie.”

“Of course you'd compare me to pie.”

“Well I did just give you a creampie so…”

I pinch his side. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” He taps my hip.

It sets us both off into a fit of laughter.

“You know I love you more than pie right?”

“I do. And I love you more than cheesy horror films.”

He takes a deep breath. “I've been meaning to ask. Well, suggest is more like it.”

“Spit it out Dean.”

“I think it's time for you to make the bunker your home too.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Like as a couple. Or just into the bunker?”

“As a couple. I want you in my space. Waking up in my bed almost every morning?”

“Why not every morning?”

“Because I know you'll want to keep hunting and I don't want to clip your wings so to speak. I just want to be able to come home to you and you to me. What do you think?”

I raise my head so that I may look him in the eye. Gauge the sincerity of his words. I only find love and vulnerability.

“Yes. I'll move into the bunker.”

A grin splits his face as he pulls me in for a kiss.

“Guess we better clean up and go tell Sam.”

“Why the rush all of a sudden Dean?”

“Because we have a couple weeks worth of time to make up for and lots of rooms to christen in the bunker.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“I have a feeling Sam will be taking a solo trip to see Eileen very soon just to avoid whatever it is your dirty little mind has conjured up.”

“It would be for the best.” He smirks.

[jenyifer]

How to make Only Friends Sapphic

So jumping off of my previous post about the theory that BostonNick sharing clothes is one of the most lesbian coded things I can think of and checking Jojo’s Twitter and seeing this

I thought I’d give some suggestions as a girl lover myself. I think that BostonNick is already two steps away from being a lesbian couple. You ever played mind games with a girl who wants to “be free to explore her options”? And I can promise you Nick is barely a stalker in comparison to what me and my friends can do to someone we like. Nothing illegal persay but…. Questionable Stalking is done on both sides under the guise of “we have seen true crime and live online”. Nick and Boston already live together basically pre break up. I think they shared clothes and Boston was using Nick every time he felt too many emotions or insecure. I think this is part of the reason he kept bringing nick with him to events but I want to talk about that in its own post.

Now TopMew another super lesbian coupling. Mew is raised by lesbians so his underhand passive aggressive ways are very familiar. Top being in love with the competitive game of getting Mew or Boeing is also text book. Sometimes the chase is worth more than the capture. I also think as lesbians we try to prove our relationships are picture perfect for instagram we finally find someone to take on all those date ideas we saved off while single and lonely.

The couple you’d have to change the most is SandRay. As Severe Depression Panic Attack girlie myself I get good morning texts and good evening checks from my Ex everyday. It’s not out of love or anything it’s a bond we share so. Firstly Mew or Boston would be checking on Ray it doesn’t matter if he hides it or if he can’t stop drinking etc the “hello are you alive text or call” would be essential or a lesbian would call the cops or that one person who can knock knock on their door to check. Ray would also know all of Bostons one night stand stories simply because he’d check in with Boston the next day to make sure Boston hadn’t been kidnapped or raped. It’s common practice with my friends who are adventurous anyways. Second Sand would have moved in with Ray or moved Ray in with him. No buts ands or protests about it. There would be a uhaul involved. Nick would have been carrying the boxes too because see a sister in need who you crushing on “you can change them just get them under your roof”. I also think Ray being a sugar mommy on the DL would be a thing just replacing Sand’s shit with higher end things. Because he cares and then Sand pushing back. The confusion with Mew is 1000000% on brand for a lesbian relationship though. As I said my ex is my bestie and I can’t get rid of her she won’t let me. It’s a big reason why I don’t like talking about Mew because his attitude towards Ray feels like a mircoscope mirror at the moment and I hate it. But it’s common to stay besties with your ex as a lesbian we are eachothers chosen family we don’t abandon eachother. And yeah sometimes feelings stick around even if it’s not for the best. Even if it hurts new interests.

I think the most fascinating change would be the interaction of the girls because we get terribly involved in our friends business most of the time. Sometimes people fall off completely absorbed in their new flame but if you have a good group of girls they’ll pull you back to reality. Also Mew’s revenge on Boston would have been the stuff talked about in legends. Punishing someone in your chosen family goes hardcore mode real fast. I also think SandNick’s relationship is already Sapphic enough I mean… who hasn’t gone camping with their bestie to see the stars touch grass then kissed them found out yeah no feels there and snuggle cuddled to sleep. That is literally me sophomore year of college except we went to a reserve where there were gators in the lake and when we woke up and went the 2 min walk to the beach there they were waiting to eat us whole.

Also your gay guy friend in Cheum would have to be more prominent. ESPECIALLY IF CHEUM IS AN ATTACHED LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP GAY. Cheum would be all up in everyone’s business super judgy with Mew but always there. Cheum would plan things and Mew would make the others show up. I can just see Cheum’s eye roll at the weekly check in because Ray needs to be reminded of his friends and Cheum would understand that. Also Cheum and April would throw the best dinner parties with wine and messy gossip. Cheum and April would def leave everyone at the party but that would be expected.

Anyways I had fun imagining it I hope you had fun reading. I tried not to be mean to Mew again so hopefully I’ve achieved that tone. I really am trying to work on it. Reading other people’s meta interpretations has really helped. Thank you!!!

[vanicanela18]

thoughts on Jamil Viper and self-respect

This is a bit of an introspective post/analysis/character study on Jamil, born out of some rambles I rained upon a friend last night after watching this video, where the author made a couple of comments that caught my attention on regards to Jamil (the video is non-twst related though). I believe they are things that have always been there, but I finally put a name to them and weaved my thoughts into words. Hopefully it will be readable, even if this still keeps a bit of the ramble-y nature of my original messages to my friend. One of the things mentioned in the video (regarding a character, the video is an essay on Spider-Man: No Way Home) that struck me were these lines:

You have to believe in yourself enough to know your capability and show off when required and use the best parts of you. Servitude requires, yes, humility, but it also requires your self-esteem.

(...)

If you don't recognise your own value, you can't offer your value. By hating yourself, you're doing a bad job of serving others.

I was a bit baffled to say the least. I paused the video, wrote the sentences and chewed them a little in my mind. I momentarily scrapped aside Jamil's own desire of seeing the world and his own dislike of it in order to reflect on the words.

Jamil has this thing where he's very prideful and egocentric, that’s just part of his character (and not entirely undeserved, as he’s indeed very smart and capable). He feeds his own ego by constantly reassuring himself of his value, his power, his intelligence, yet on the meantime he constantly craves for approval, praise and recognition from others. His perceived chains come from the way he was raised, in which his position is tied to the way he can show himself to the world. Jamil is not an insecure person per se but he ultimately wants to prove something. He wants to be praised and adored, and such things he has associated not to himself as a person but to his position in society, which is why he also craves a higher social standing (the entire master thing with the parrot for example, because master=power, and that means he has value enough to show off).

In essence, he doesn't value himself not because he doesn't believe he's capable but because he doesn't have enough self-respect to himself, his family, their job. Not only since it's something he doesn't like, but because he's been raised with the idea that he's inferior just because he has to bow down to someone else. 

"Servitude requires humility, but it also requires your self-esteem". In other words, it’s knowing you're still capable and worthy of respect and praise. And the funny thing is that this idea that he matters less wasn't even hammered down by the Asims, it was just Jamil's parents trying to curb down their slightly-too-prideful son (in their perception) so they wouldn’t fall out of favour. They obviously did a horrendous job at it though, while also perpetuating in Jamil's mind that they're worth nothing because they're servants.

To be clear: I am not saying this is Jamil’s fault. This is a consequence of his environment and the society around him, added to his own personality which tunnel vissions on this (value=power). In the end, Jamil's insecurity is less about not believing in his capabilities and more of just believing himself unworthy because of his position, which is why he never tries his best at anything and bends under the pressure of underperforming. Yet he hungers for that praise and approval, of being in the spotlight, while simultaneously running away from it. It's heartbreaking but a self-made hell as well, because...

No one lights a lamp and hides it in a clay jar or puts it under a bed. Instead, they put it on a stand, so that those who come in can see the light.

(quoted from the video)

Jamil never realises that Kalim has always been aware of his capabilities. Since Kalim doesn't have Jamil's bias (his insecurity, let's call it, his perhaps surprising lack of self-respect), he always lifts him up and naturally praises him. He lights a lamp (Jamil) so others can see its light! But since it comes from Kalim himself, Jamil resents him as he only sees the social ladder and not Kalim as an individual. And of course, this is because of Jamil's deeply-rooted beliefs, his upbringing, the way it is obvious he lacks Kalim's privilege. But this impossibility of ridding himself of this insecurity is what holds him back in the first place, and what makes him hold Kalim back as well (by not letting him do things by himself).

(Slight Episode 6 spoilers ahead)

This is why Leona says, "at least try your best and struggle". The harsh truth is that by hating himself (the place he was born in, the value of his profession, his true goals) Jamil has never been able to do his best at anything. He has to believe in himself enough to show off when required and use the best parts of himself! And when learning this, he can do the same for others! He can step back and also recognise when he's not needed, to let go of that tight grasp he has in the urge of controlling everything, because it's the only thing that not only makes him feel like having some control of his life but the closest he can get to a position of power (in his eyes).

This also reflects in Jamil's Unique Magic, which by itself is a reflection of a mage's soul. Gratuitious Jafar reference aside, it says a lot about Jamil as well. (paraphrased) "Look into my eyes and tell me, who is your master?" Jamil's long-sought dream; the sad reality of it all is that being called "master", even being the "master", won't bring him any of the reassurance he so yearns for.

In the end, what was what Jamil wanted in Episode Four? Ultimately, he wanted the seat of dorm leader for himself, this power he so covets, what will make him great and finally let him spread his wings, a taste of freedom before it all comes crashing down once he graduates. But... he doesn't have to do that.

Jamil is valid to not want to take on the job of a servant, much less when he's a child himself, but he's not worth inherently less just because he has to bow down to someone else. And I think that's what Leona ends telling him in Episode 6, "you're not worth less if you know your limits and know when to step back. You're not worth less if you lack privileges when you are born. Struggle, fight with all your might: that's what shows that you are worth just as much as others." That's why Leona points out Ruggie, Azul and Riddle, who have all had their fair share of struggles, but have tried ways of making up for them, and ultimately either know their worth or are on their way there. Sebek is also a great Jamil foil: although they're both servants, Sebek takes a lot of pride on his position. He doesn't believe he is worth less for serving Malleus, but more. His actual struggle comes from him as an individual (being half-fae), not his status as a servant.

Ultimately, to keep walking forward and finally find his path, I think this is the conclusion he must learn: Jamil has value as himself. He has value as just Jamil. The servant boy. The one who doesn't want to continue the work of his family. The one who wants to travel the world, and live his life on his own terms. Power won't give him the self-respect and self-esteem he so longs for.

And I think this is the road he begins to walk by the end of his arc on Episode 6, little by little. Stepping back and recognising Leona’s superior magical prowess, but that there’s nothing wrong with weakness. Starting to see Kalim more as his own person, and letting him do things on his own (which will also kickstart Kalim’s own arc, but that’s worth another post). And at last, truly letting himself do his best, speaking out his desires and accept that there’s nothing inherently wrong with the work he and his parents do (as evidenced by his Broomquet Birthday PS), even if he doesn’t want his future to be like that.

In the end, there's no such thing as an useless oil lamp. Even if it's not flashy, not golden and incapable of granting wishes, it can always give you light.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Memory Served - Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Part 3)

Series summary: Following a terrible accident, every memory you ever made was gone leaving you to try to piece together what happened.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: to avoid spoilers I won't be tagging warnings, but if you are concerned about being triggered by anything PLEASE reach out to me so I can put your mind at ease! This is an 18+ ONLY series!

A/N: this is a mystery series, so please when you comment or reblog please put spoilers under the cut using the read more function! This also means I won't be responding to comments straight away!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

You nibbled your lip in thought, pen tapping against your chin as you stared down at your notes. At first glance it didn’t make much sense, the page was filled with numbers and notes. Arrows connecting all the things you felt went together, stars next to things you felt were important.

“What are you doing?” Ransom’s sharp voice startled you since you thought you were alone.

You instinctively held your notebook to your chest shielding it from prying eyes. You looked over your shoulder to see Ransom standing just behind you, his face unreadable as he looked down at you from your spot on the couch.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you say waving it off.

Ransom arches a brow, putting his hand on his hips “didn’t look like nothing” he comments as he walks around to stand in front of you.

You give him a small smile shaking your head “it’s stupid” you mutter.

“I doubt that, c’mon kitten we don’t have secrets do we?” Ransom says as he sits down on the couch, arm outstretched across the back, fingers brushing against your shoulder.

You sigh biting your lip slightly as you look down at your notes “well… well you know i’ve been doing a lot of reading” you start holding up the book that was also in your lap.

Ransom hums nodding his head in response his eyes flickering between your face and your notebook.

“Well, I just had so many thoughts and ideas about these stories so I started jotting down notes and my thoughts about them, my favourite quotes, anything I liked about them” you admit with a bashful smile.

You see Ransom’s shoulders relax and a smile forming on his lips “that’s good, I’m glad you’re finding something to keep you occupied” 

“Well actually…” you start biting your lips nervously “I was thinking this sort of thing, working in literature might be something I can do, maybe with Harlan?” You suggest.

Ransom’s smile falls once more, turning into a small frown “I’m not sure that would be a good idea” he states.

Your face falls, you didn’t expect Ransom to shut down the idea so quickly “why not?”

“Well, Walt for starters” Ransom sighs “he would just make it hell for you, it won’t matter what Harlan thinks or does” he states shaking his head.

“Oh, well I’m sure I could handle him,” you say shifting in your seat.

“And look you don’t need to work, I have enough money to look after us,” Ransom says putting his hand on your knee.

“I know but I want to work, have something to do except sit around all day” you sigh gesturing around.

“I know, but it's only been a couple of months since the accident, I don’t want you to push yourself” Ransom states “I’m not saying you can’t get a job ever, I just think you should just wait for now” 

You let out a long sigh looking down as you mulled his words over. You could see his point and you understood his hesitation.

“But if you’re enjoying this” Ransom says pointing to your notebook “keep going, use it to keep yourself busy” 

“Yeah, I guess so” you sigh nodding your head.

Silence falls in the room, you glance over to see Ransom studying your face. A strange look on his face, you were about to question it when he spoke.

“I do have another idea of what you could do to keep yourself occupied,” He says.

You sit up instantly intrigued “you do? What is it?” 

Ransom smiles reaching out to take your left hand, his thumb running over your engagement ring “we get married” he says simply.

You nearly choke on air in shock, blinking a couple of times trying to work out if you were dreaming or not because there was no way Ransom had seriously suggested that. 

“What?” You squeaked.

“Why don’t we start planning our wedding” Ransom repeats making your eyes widen because he was being serious.

“R-really? A-are you sure?” You ask stuttering slightly.

“Yeah I mean I know we said we’d go slow considering everything, but I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and we basically live like a married couple now, the only difference would be a signed piece of paper,” Ransom says shrugging his shoulders casually.

“Yeah-yeah I guess so” you mutter scratching your forehead as you tried to process what he was saying.

“I mean this ring,” Ransom says his thumb brushing over your ring “it’s a promise we’ve already made to love each other for the rest of our lives, the wedding would just make it even more official”

You nod gulping nervously as you looked down at your ring, the piece of jewellery feeling incredibly heavy all of a sudden. You glance back up at Ransom and see the hopeful and loving expression he wore. You instantly felt bad for your hesitancy, because you could see how desperately Ransom wanted this.

“Okay…” you finally agree “okay so um when do you want to set the date for? That’s a good place to start right?” You mutter your lips pursed in thought.

“Well” Ransom starts his hand moving to your arm, his fingers tracing invisible lines up and down your skin “I don’t want to wait too long so why don’t we set the date for a couple of months' time?” 

You feel the air being sucked out of your lungs again in shook “a couple of months? Isn’t that too soon?” You ask “I mean how could we possibly plan everything in such a short amount of time?” You add quickly.

“Don’t you worry about that, It’s only going to be a small thing anyway, so you tell me what you want and I’ll get it all sorted” Ransom smiles “the Drysdale Thrombey names carry a lot of weight in this state, may as well use it to our advantage” he adds with a smirk.

“Okay yeah sure I’ll um get looking and deciding, don’t you want any input on it?” You ask frowning slightly.

“No I trust you, this is your day, the only thing I ask is that my family is not invited” Ransom smirks making you laugh.

“Deal, only Harlan and Marta are allowed” you smile nodding your head.

“Perfect, I have a couple of things to get on with,” Ransom says pushing himself up from the couch “so I’ll leave you to your reading” he smiles leaning down and kissing you deeply.

“Okay, I’ll let you know when dinner is ready” you smile up at him.

“Perfect,” he says kissing you once more before heading towards the stairs.

Once he was gone you let out a long and shaky sigh. Dread settled in your stomach and you felt so nervous it made you feel physically sick. Closing your eyes you took a few deep breaths trying to centre yourself. You reminded yourself that you and Ransom were in love and had been for a while, you recalled all the amazing things he’d done for you since the accident, like how he stood up for you against his family. 

He was right, this was the right thing to do. Nothing really would change in your day-to-day life. This feeling you had was just because you were still processing it, you would feel more excited soon enough. It was just sudden and soon this feeling of something being wrong would go. 

“Right well I guess I better planning” you mutter to yourself. 

The next couple of weeks had been very busy for you. You were amazed at how quickly and easily this wedding was to plan. You’d already found a minister, decided on flowers, what food you’d eat and a very small guest list. You’d even booked an appointment to find your dress, and you didn't even have to leave the house. Every single vendor came to you or Ransom went to deal with securing them. 

“I think we might have hit a snag with the venue” you sigh one evening as you sat down to eat dinner. 

Ransom frowns glancing up at you “what do you mean?” he asks reaching out for his glass of scotch. 

“Well, they’re all fully booked and have been for months some for years” you explain as you gather some pasta onto your fork. 

“I’m sure they could find a day for us, it’s not every day one of the Thrombey family gets married” Ransom frowns shaking his head. 

“They can’t, even with your name they couldn't budge, they did put us at the top of the cancellation list though but still,” you tell him as you finish your mouthful. 

Ransom huffs in annoyance, shaking his head as he whispered a curse. You watched as his fist clenched on the table, his jaw ticking as he looked to the side. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“What if we had it at Harlan’s house?” he suggests looking back over at you. 

“Do you think he’d be okay with that?” you ask taking a sip of water. 

Ransom’s lips twitch upwards “of course he’ll be okay with it, he’d love it” he reassures you. 

“And what about your family, what if they get word of it and try to crash the wedding,” you ask biting your lips nervously. 

“I’d like to see them try” Ransoms smirks “don’t worry about it kitten I’ll get it all sorted, just let me know what you want and I’ll organise it” 

You feel a small smile creeping onto your lips “thank you ransom” you say earning a smile from his in return. 

Once dinner was eaten and the plates cleared, you and Ransom settled down on the couch. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, your head resting on his chest as he started asking you about all the other decisions you’d made for the wedding. 

“What about your dress? Care to tell me about that?” Ransom smirks, his long fingers tickling your side. 

“No, you know it's bad luck to see the dress before the day” you laugh looking up at him. 

“I can’t even get a little peak,” Ransom asks arching a brow. 

“Nope, plus I haven’t even picked a dress yet, I have an appointment at the end of the week,” you tell him. 

“Oh, so will I be getting kicked out of the house that day?” Ransom asks smirking down at you. 

“Yep, you’ll have to go hang out with Walt” you smirk. 

“That’s just cold” Ransom mutters shaking his head before smirking as he squeezed your side and makes you squeal with laughter. 

“I’m sorry I meant Joni” you laugh. 

Ransom laughed shaking his head “I actually don’t know if that's better or worse”

“Depends on if she tries to talk to you about spiritual shit” you chuckle. 

“True, now c’mon shall we finish that series we started,” Ransom asks as he grabs the remote. 

“Sure I wanna see whether they found that witness” you agree making yourself comfortable as Ransom sticks on the courtroom drama you had been watching the past couple of days. 

You were halfway through the second episode of the night when your exhaustion from all the planning caught up to you. A mixture of that and the warmth Ransom was giving out soon lulled you to sleep. 

To begin with, you just had normal dreams, nothing seemed out of place. But then you started seeing flashes of memories. Like always they didn't make much sense, they were like quick snapshots of your life before the accident. You had no context for any of them meaning it often left you trying to piece together the pieces of your life. 

You saw flashes of your childhood, times of you playing with toys and out in the backyard. You also saw memories from what you assumed was your time at university, sitting in class, and the parties you went to. You saw times you spent in an office, presumably the marketing job that you left. 

Finally, your brain seemed to fixate on one memory. 

You were walking down the streets of Boston, it was a cold night and you wrapped your leather jacket around you tighter as you walked. Glancing to your left you saw a couple of other women walking with you, both of them dressed up for a night out like you were. You could hear them laughing and talking loudly, one of them with long blonde hair linking her arm with yours and smiling over at you. 

You turned the corner and spotted a bar a few feet away, one that you definitely recognised. Walking inside the place was packed and there was a live band playing at the far end. Glancing around other people’s heads you could only just about see the lead singer. He had the typical boyish charm that any musician had, he was hot, with his built body and short light brown hair, and he knew it as he winked at the girls in the front. 

You felt your friend nudge you in the side, a look on her face when she caught you checking out the lead singer. She shouted something to you but you couldn’t make it out, you shouted something back shrugging your shoulders casually. Your friend rolled her eyes at you before dragging you over to the bar. 

The night rolled on and you drank far too many drinks, you also found yourself looking over at the lead singer multiple times. You felt your cheeks grow warm whenever he caught your gaze, and sent a wink your way, much to the annoyance of your friends. 

You then noticed the crowd begin to part as someone walks toward you. You felt yourself smile as Ransom comes into view, his appearance was different to normal though. His hair was shorter and fluffier, there was no hair gel in sight, and his beard was back and much thicker than ever. He smiled at you walking up to you, placing his hand on the small of your back as he leaned down to kiss you. 

He said something to you and once again you couldn't hear what he said. You nodded in response reaching up to kiss him once more, sliding your hand into his and letting him lead you out of the bar. Once out into the cool air he wraps his arm around you tightly, pulling you into his side to keep you warm. Once you reached his black Audi he opened the passenger door for you pressing yet another kiss to your lips before you climbed into the car. 

You woke with a start blinking a couple of times as you got your bearings, realising you were still curled up on the couch with Ransom. You glance up to see Ransom looking down at you with an amused smirk. 

“Somebody seems tired” he comments smiling down at you. 

“Yeah- yeah I guess so” you mutter rubbing your forehead as you settled back down. 

You tried to focus on the TV program, see if you could work out what you’d missed, but you couldn't your mind was solely on your dream. You were trying to place it on the timeline you had been trying and failing to build with the rest of your memories. You had to guess that it happened after your trip to Florida, Ransom’s hair was a similar length, and you guess he just decided to grow the beard out some more. 

Looking back up at Ransom you pursed your lips as you took in his profile. You had to admit you liked the way he looked with a beard. You definitely preferred it over his clean-shaven look. 

“Why did you shave your beard?” you ask suddenly. 

You felt Ransom freeze for a second before shifting in his seat “what do you mean?” he asks clearing his throat. 

“I just remember you having a beard, and I was wondering why you decided to get rid of it,” you ask sitting up slightly. 

Ransom shrugs his shoulders clearing his throat a couple of times before answering “I just preferred it without” he offers “you did too, you said it was too scratchy” 

“Oh” you mutter frowning slightly because right now you definitely preferred the look of it “yeah I guess that makes sense”

“Yeah, hey um it’s late and we’re tired why don’t we head to bed,” Ransom says quickly standing up from the couch and turning off the TV before you got a chance to say otherwise. 

“Oh um yeah sure” you stutter standing up from the couch.

You barely had a chance to stand before Ransom took your hand and practically dragged you up the stairs. You frown in confusion at his strange behaviour, unsure what the cause was. You were going to question it when you reached the bedroom but you didn't get a chance. 

Ransom suddenly turned around to face you, his large hands moving to cup your cheeks “I love you so much” he mutters before kissing you deeply. 

Any thoughts you had disappeared as he kissed you passionately, your brain completely shutting down as he held you. No protest in sight as he stripped the both of you of your clothes and had his wicked way with you. 

You were standing in the guest room that used to be your bedroom when you first returned after your accident. Standing on a small circular platform you looked at the mirror in front of you examining the current wedding dress you wore. 

It was a gorgeous dress you couldn't deny it, and you looked amazing in it, but it just didn't feel perfect. But it was the last dress on the rack, and none of the ones before worked either. You pursed your lip in thought as you tried to work out what you didn’t like about it, but you couldn’t pinpoint a single reason. 

“What do you think?” the lady asks as she takes a step back, biting her lip nervously. 

“I- uh- I think it's lovely,” you say turning slightly to look at the sides and back. 

“It sounds like there’s a but there” the lady sighs looking up at you. 

You try not to wince, you knew how far out of her way she had gone to be here to help you find a dress today. Bringing in the platform and large mirror, as well as many different dresses that were all your specific size. 

“I’m not sure, I don’t know what it is though… I just… it feels weird wearing a wedding dress” you admit looking down at the gown. 

“Yes, putting a dress on does make it feel much more real to a lot of people, for some it makes them even more excited, for others, it makes them nervous… or even scared” the lady explains as she adjusts the train of the dress. 

“Yeah… “ you say glancing down at her and noticing the odd look in her eyes “that must be it” you mutter looking back over at the mirror. 

You see her go to say something but get interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming shut so loudly that it shook the entire house. The both of you froze as you heard Ransom storm through the bottom floor of the house, the sound of him grabbing the bottle of scotch echoing. 

“I um should go see if he’s okay, can you just wait here?” you ask stepping off the platform. 

“Yes, of course, let me help you out of the dress, bad luck and all that,” she says quickly moving to help you. 

You mutter a quick thanks, stepping out of the dress and pulling on the silk gown you wore between each dress. You hurried out of the room and down the stairs, finding Ransom in the kitchen, braced against the kitchen counter, a glass of scotch in front of him. His head hung low and you noticed the tension in his shoulders. 

“Ransom? What’s wrong?” you ask cautiously approaching. 

He looked up from the floor and you instantly see the despair and worry in his eyes “it's Harlan” he choked out, his voice breaking. 

You felt your heart sink in worry, instantly rushing over to Ransom, putting your hand on his arm “what’s wrong? Is he?” you ask dreading the worse. 

“No” Ransom muttered shaking his head “but he’s taken a turn for the worse, and the doctors say it doesn't look good” he explains, biting his lip as he tried to hold back his tears “he might not make it to the end of the month, to our wedding,” he says barely holding himself together. 

“Oh, Ransom I’m so sorry” you mutter, welling up yourself as you pull him into your embrace. 

He buried his head into the crook of your neck and you feel the wetness of his tears against your skin as he completely broke down in your arms. Your heart broke for him but you knew there was nothing you could do so you just held him.

After a few moments he pulled away, using the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away his tears “I just- he’s the only person I’ve ever wanted at my wedding and- and now- he- he might-” Ransom shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence. 

Your mind raced as a way to try and fix it, and you could only think of one solution. One solution that utterly terrified you but you knew it was the right thing to do. 

“Let's move the wedding forward then” you suggest. 

Ransom looks down at you his eyes wide in surprise “what?” he asks. 

“Let's move it forward, he’s the only person we want there, we don’t need anything or anyone else so let's just get married with him and Marta there” you explain.

Ransom blinks a couple of times “really? Cause we’d have to do it in a week's time or something” he says shaking his head gently. 

“Yeah” you whisper “let's do it” 

A smile breaks out on his face through the tears, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you deeply “thank you so so much, I love you so much” he muttered against your lips. 

“It's okay” you whisper looking at him through your lashes “why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest, I’ll just finish what I was doing and see you up there?” you suggest. 

Ransom nods his head kissing you once more before making his way upstairs. Once he was out of sight you let out a long and shaky breath. You were getting married next week, in just 7 days you would be Mrs Drysdale and it was terrifying. You had to do this though, for Ransom. 

You made your way back up the stairs, stopping first by the guest room where the lady was waiting for you. 

“Everything okay?” she asked as you stepped inside. 

“Yeah,” you say clearing your throat “that last dress, that’s the one,” you tell her. 

“Oh, that’s great! I’ll make sure it's all ready for your wedding next month” the lady smiles breathing out a sigh of relief. 

“Actually I need it by the end of the week,” you tell her. 

She looks back at you in confusion “what-why?” she asks. 

“We’re moving it forward, an important family member might not be around next month so we’re getting married in a week so we can have him present” you explain rubbing your forehead. 

“Oh I’m so sorry, well um since the dress already fits I can just leave it here and send you the invoice?” she suggests. 

“That would be amazing thank you” you breathe out. 

She gives you a small smile “it's nothing, now I can pack this all up and get out of your hair, seems like your fiance needs you more right now” she suggests. 

“Yes he does, thank you for your help today” you thank her before heading out.

You walk the short distance from the guest room to your bedroom, finding Ransom lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was now shirtless, only wearing a pair of flannel trousers.

“Hey,” you say getting his attention as you walked over “how are you feeling,” you ask climbing onto the bed next to him. 

“Shitty” he admits “but better thanks to you” he sighs wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his side. 

“It was nothing” you mutter shaking your head. 

“Hey,” Ransom says cupping your cheek getting you to look at him “you did so much, I don’t know what I do without you” he admits before leaning down to press a sweet chaste kiss to your lips. 

“I just want to make you happy,” you say quietly. 

“I’m getting there,” Ransom says forcing a small smile. 

“What else can I do? What do you need” you ask him hand running over his chest. 

Ransom didn't say anything for a moment making you look up at him, instantly noticing the look in his eyes, one that made them look dark. He then grabs you moving you so you were straddling his waist. 

“I need you” he mutters under his breath. 

“Oh,” you whisper. 

Your heart thumps heavily in your chest, a shudder running through your body, you were about to suggest that it wasnt a good idea but then you saw the pleading look in his eyes. So you nodded your head and let him pull away your gown and push down his trousers. Your bodies connected as he guided your hips down onto him, using you to work through his emotions. 

Once he was done you both curled up and let the exhaustion of the day take over. It wasn't long until dreams and subsequently, memories found you. 

You were sitting at your desk but your work had been abandoned. Instead, you were chatting and laughing with your colleagues, exchanging gossip and catching up with their personal lives. 

The blond from before was halfway through a story when she smirked and nodded over to the elevator “looks like it's time for your lunch” she comments looking over at you. 

Looking over at the elevator you saw Ransom walking over, he had his short fluffy hair and beard again which you just loved. He also wore a white crisp shirt and black suit that made your mouth water, because damn he looked good in a shirt and tie. All you could think about was what he’d look like with the sleeves rolled up. 

“Ready to go honey?” Ransom asked the pet name he used catching you by surprise. 

“Of course” you smile quickly locking your computer and standing up from your desk. 

Ransom smiles taking your hand and leading you toward the elevator. You had just stepped inside when your blond colleague called out to the both of you “we’re on a tight deadline so no detours today Andy!” she smirks. 

You wake up with a start, your head screaming in pain causing you to sit upright. Your chest was heaving your heart pounding in your chest as you replayed your dream.

You had seen Ransom. But they called him Andy. But to you, he looked like Ransom. You couldn't remember an Andy. Looking over to Ransom who was fast asleep dread settled in your stomach, because if that man in your dream wasn’t Ransom… who was he?

Please remember to put any spoiler filled reactions under the cut! just put :readmore: and press enter if you’re on mobile! or press the three little dots if your on the browser!

Sharing is caring so please reblog this if you enjoyed this! and leave a little comment if you can!

Also send me your theories of what you think is going to happen! I may just confirm or deny them 😉 AND the first 3 People who guess correctly (and I mean completely 100% correct) will win a drabble request!

I will stop taking entries for this little competetion at 12pm GMT 31st of October! You can send in theories as the story progresses, but extra points to anyone who guesses it sooner rather than later! Anon entries will not count (as i won’t know who you are!) but you can still send theories in and join in on the fun!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date

[tadpolesonalgae]

hi!! honestly I'm so utterly obsessed with CBMTHY and how you portray that anxious filled scattered brain of our girly pop cause like... relatable lmao💀 and her relationship with elain 🥺🥺 it's do precious how hard she tries to connect with people, though unwilling, but she tries, how she tries to build something for herself even though she kinda doesn't have a will to it (now understable why), how she finally went out of her way to do things on her own under her conditions, how she grows more backbone. I know she feels a lot of guilt right now but honestly would love to see her stand up to ic finally. and also... kinda wish it took a turn to become eris story😶😶😶 they just always have the best, dynamic and interesting scenes, their chemistry is off the charts and it seems like he knows and understands her more cause she is more comfortable to talk to him when with azriel it's so... awkward? and kinda forced ngl. literally started to read it because of him and the angst and stayed for the reader and eris. I get that her power matches azriel's shadows and everything but fiery couple eris x reader?? HOT DAMN!! they just make so much sense. anyway how about making them all three a poly👀 hahaha

hope you're having a great time of a day!

I’m so happy you enjoyed that aspect of reader in cbmthy!! With her trying to connect with people but simultaneously being unsure of herself and uncertain if that’s what she really wants, then also struggling with the conflict of wanting company but feeling undeserving of it :/

‘I know she feels a lot of guilt right now but honestly would love to see her stand up to ic finally.’

I don’t want to say too much since I’ve yet to start chapter 17, but I’m hoping to write a scene where reader does/says something that’s a little out of character? In terms of how she generally shies from confrontation and desires to be as unproblematic for other people as possible? I just hope it’s enjoyable for you to read and doesn’t feel needless? Hopefully it will show a little more about what kind of person she is and how she might choose to resolve a conflict when forced to? I don’t know, I guess I just hope it doesn’t fall flat when it actually gets written! 🧡💛

‘and also... kinda wish it took a turn to become eris story😶😶😶’

😭😭😭 i can’t really blame you honestly since Az and reader I don’t think have had many good interactions? Then comparing that with her and Eris? I can see why you want her to end up with him instead, though them swapping rings is likely as far as it will go—I feel any further than that would be out of character for reader since she’s spent so much time being in love with Az it would be odd for her to suddenly develop feelings for someone else :)

‘they just always have the best, dynamic and interesting scenes, their chemistry is off the charts’

Thank you so much!!! I’m honestly kind of surprised(?) I guess by how many people seem to really be on Eris’ side? I suppose I interpret that as people genuinely engaging with reader more as a person than a character and wanting things to go well for her which is such a high compliment to receive? 😭🧡💛

‘anyway how about making them all three a poly👀 hahaha’

I hadn’t considered making them all poly 👀

Unfortunately that won’t happen in cbmthy because it is strictly Azriel x reader, but now you’ve put a throuple idea in my head I might have to write something else 😭 (thank you for the suggestion 🤩)

‘hope you're having a great time of a day!’

I am, thank you very much! I’m thinking it might be time for supper soon! 🎊

I hope you’re having a good day too!! 🧡💛

[nowordsformylove]

Jonessmith. Discuss (is so so bad at thinking of questions)

so much that I could say

I’m gonna start here even though I already posted about this before but I definitely think Mike fell for Davy first and kept it a secret for so long and never intended to do anything about it. Silent pining. Davy would fall hard for Mike but would also try to keep it a secret to not ruin their friendship, eventually tho it would come out that he loves Mike, whether he acts on it or says something or Mike just figures it out (or Micky and Peter try to set them up bc they know they like each other hah).

I talked about date ideas :) so im going to jump into some reasons why i like them paired together

I think they are really well suited for each other bc they tend to be on the same page, like Mike can start saying something and Davy will pick up on it and add to it. like for example in Monkees Race Again when they’re explaining why the engine blew up and Mike says it makes the car lighter and Davy adds “so it goes faster” (Micky does this too! but I like to think Mike and Davy are really good at picking up on little things from each other so they do it more often)

I also love their contrasts with the obvious being British/American (specifically from a southern state cause they got an accent difference going on). Mike’s bit of country twang vs Davy’s broadway type ballad voice. I think they have very complimentary sounding voices and the live on the Johnny Cash show version of Nine Times Blue is my favorite for this reason (the monkees should’ve done more duet/group-type songs rip). 

Their other obvious contrast is their tall guy small guy thing! I’m not usually one for height difference ships but they’ve turned me onto the idea :D I really love the way Davy can just lean his head onto Mike shoulder and Mike can rest his chin on Davy’s head 🥹 Davy is also the perfect height for Mike to just drape his arm over his shoulders. Also I really love how grabby Davy is, he is with all the guys but it’s extra cute when he’s pulling on Mike’s sleeves or hiding behind him because Mike likes being the protector and caretaker of the group, so I think it’s a nice dynamic for them. Also I like to think that because Davy is so grabby he’s probably also a cuddler. I just know he always ends up spooning Mike even if that’s not how they fall asleep.

Random headcanons:

Mike definitely uses romantic nicknames and my favorite one he uses for Davy is “doll” (i know the special nickname used in fics is honeychild and that one is sooo cute too)

This one kinda goes along with Davy being touchy but I know he loveessss wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist either as a hug from behind or just to hold him while standing next to him. He just can’t resist it me too Davy 

Davy obviously has great puppydog eyes bc he’s so pretty and young looking but Mike’s puppydog eyes when he decides to use them are an instant knockout you just can’t say no to him.

This one is nsfw: I do see them as a switch couple but primarily Mike tops bc I think he would feel like there’s more control being in a “dominant” position and also he likes being the provider (a service top). But Davy does get to top occasionally and when he does he puts his all into making Mike come apart under his touch, LOTS of foreplay until Mike is whimpering and even begging 😳

ok since this has been sitting in my drafts for 10 days 🫣 im posting it as is but i may come back and add more to it if i think of other stuff, or if you want me to expand on anything ive said lmk!

if anyone else wants to add to this pleaseeee feel free I would love to hear other people’s thoughts or random headcanons 🩷🩷🩷

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I’m almost at the end of Daniel Kitson’s radio show Trifle radio, and somehow the fact that I had the central conceit spoiled for me before I ever started it does not take anything away from its ability to mess with my mind. I know what the ending is, and I’m still listening to it thinking, “I have no idea what’s real. How is this happening? Does he even own a van? I’m no longer sure Devon’s a real place. I don’t think that’s actually a kettle. Does Tim Key even exist? I think Tim Key might be a fiction invented by Daniel Kitson in 2002, just to set up this ruse.”

I guess that’s the sign of a well executed twist, if it doesn’t rely purely on the shock of the ending, and can get in people’s heads even if they’ve already been told the ending so the pure shock isn’t there. Basically, what I think has happened is Daniel Kitson wrote a radio play about how weird it is to not be able to do the Edinburgh Festival because of the pandemic, and then recorded it with some of his friends, and released it throughout August 2020. But lied about what it was all the way along. Only I’m not sure what it actually was, and I have a couple of episodes left but I have a feeling they’re not going to answer all my questions.

The music got better. I haven’t even wanted to skip any songs during the Trifle episodes, the way I did in some of his 2018 and 2019 radio shows.

He’s talking about editing the Gregory Church show while doing this, and that seems to make sense. It has a vaguely Gregory Church-esque feel, as in that show, he started by telling us, “Most of the story is fiction, this bit’s true though”, and then he told us the true bit, but then he just kept talking and never said when the true bit ended and the fiction began. I got way too far into that show before I realized he wasn’t only embellishing the details, he had in fact left the truth behind completely, almost at the very beginning. But I kept waiting for something that would explain it all, and it just ended without that, and that is why I think Gregory Church is his story show I’ve re-watched the most times.

Gregory Church was also similar to this in that it sounded real because it takes place in the same universe as his stand-up shows, in which the stories are real (I mean, I thought they were, I now think the entire Chocolate Milk Gang and also Isy Suttie might somehow be figments of both his and my imagination). Like he’d talk about taking letters to Edinburgh and running them by his friend Gavin, and he perfectly matched the tone of the way he’d tell that story in stand-up, so I’d get lulled into the mental state in which I listen to his stand-up shows, which is an assumption that it’s all real, and then I’d have to re-remember that none of it happened. That’s happening in the radio show too, except that this time he’s got the actual Gavin Osborn to go... somewhere, and play along with it. And has gotten Tim Key to pretend he’s been taken hostage and forced to read poetry, I think.

I realize no one or almost no one reading this will have any idea what I’m talking about, and if you’d like to fix that, I recommend the radio show and the story shows (the radio show wasn’t meant to be recorded and therefore could fall under the category of “Kitson shows that I’d love to post about but shouldn’t because he doesn’t want them out there”, except that the files are right there on Fourble and easy to find, so I feel like you can’t say I was the one ruining his desire for secrecy by making a Tumblr post). And if not, then thank you for letting me take advantage of the way this website just lets us post any random thoughts we have, whether or not they’re of interest to other people. Feeling especially appreciative of Tumblr’s existence on this day, as some important bits of the rest of the internet fall apart.

[liltaz-asatreat]

writing asks, 17, 2, 4, 19, 20, 23, 28, 40!

:D

You can find the writing asks here!

Also, I’m putting this under a readmore because this got ridiculously long lmao

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to? 

Yeah, right now this god damn Julia AU lshglskdhgllsaks I’m about to rewrite chapter 1 for like, the eleventh time, because it keeps turning out really dry :( But I will write it! And I will publish it so help me god! lol

Also like, I feel like I can’t write horror. Not that I don’t think I could if I worked at it more, but like, I’m not big in the genre to begin with and only have mild interest in it from time to time. Mostly because I get scared way too easily slgkhslkgad Doing the minimal amount of research on what the catherine wheel is for The Academic Illusionist gave me nightmares, and I didn’t even get too deep into what it was and didn’t describe it being used in the story very much lol :/

4. Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

I do, in fact, actually have an OC that I’m writing about currently! lol Meadow Cottonwood is the OC main character of the eighth bird AU I’m calling Double Troubles. They’re a half-elf and a self-insert OC, and I originally wasn’t going to flesh out their story and write this AU at all, but the idea I had for them was really good, and Sunny enabled me to actually fully flesh it out alskdghsldakg <3

So the backstory is this: Meadow was born in the two-sunned world, obviously, but they have two bodies connected to one soul: one of them was born in the Material Plane, and the other was born in the Plane of Logic. And how that works is that when Meadow is awake in the Material Plane, they’re asleep in the Plane of Logic, and when they fall asleep in the Material Plane, they wake up in the Plane of Logic.

This phenomenon is not well known, and while Meadow was in that reality, he never met anyone else like him, and no one believed him when he was little that this was happening. His parents in both planes did know that he had weird sleeping habits between sleeping for a longer periods of time than most people and falling asleep suddenly while he was in the middle of doing something (which happens when someone or something wakes up the other body that was originally sleeping without them having gone to bed in the body previously awake). His parents on both sides did take him to get checked out by a doctor, and because no one believed him about living in two worlds, the doctors couldn’t find what was causing it, so they just said he had a general sleeping disorder

Both sets of parents also weren’t exactly the greatest, see abusive, and they especially hated whenever Meadow brought up their double, so they eventually learned to keep quiet about it and told anyone who asked about their sleeping habits that it was the disorder.

When they were about 14, they basically had had it with their parents, and they ran away and lived on the streets for a while, and they met a couple of people during that time whom they traveled with, and they tried to explain to them that they have this sleeping disorder and it’s really important that no one wakes them up, even if they suddenly fall asleep standing up or something, because it would hurt them. The real reason, of course, being that if they were suddenly woken up by something in the other plane, it was potentially life threatening or at least a serious problem was happening, and it would be important for them to deal with that and get somewhere safe before they could fall asleep again. Most people they met weren’t very receptive to that, and they had to leave people more often than not who would refuse to respect their boundaries like that.

Eventually, Meadow was able to find an opportunity in the Material Plane to go to school to become a scientist and joined the IPRE. By the time they went on the mission, they were 22 years old, so I figured to make the timeline make sense on why they would be sent on this mission as another scientist when they couldn’t have been in school for all that long, I would make it so that there was a spot open on the team for an Institute student to go as part of a study program, and Meadow was approved to fill that role.

In the Plane of Logic, however, he never got a chance to find an opportunity to do something other than live off the streets. By the time the Hunger rolled around, he was caught (thankfully) sleeping inside a locked library, so that’s why he didn’t immediately die.

Then during the Stolen Century, Meadow lives out a lot of the century going between the worlds the Starblaster touches down on and literally inside the Hunger, fighting to not let it take him over. It gets really hard though at the end of the cycle when the Hunger gets there because the attack sucks them into being awake in that body as the Hunger kind of successfully takes them over temporarily, and he gets dropped down into the Material Plane to wreak havoc and destroy and kill everything. He tries his best to remain aware enough and fight that impulse though, so he doesn’t do a ton of damage himself.

Of course, after spending more than a few years together with all of this going on, the rest of the crew eventually catches on that something is up with him, so he confesses the whole double situation, and they believe him and try to help him deal with that the best that he can.

One cycle, when the Hunger comes, Magnus is fighting his way back to the ship, and Logic Meadow finds him, and they fight really hard not to kill him which Magnus notices and realizes it’s them. So he restrains them and takes them on board the ship, and when they leave that reality, their body is still there. Merle has to work on getting the corruption out of that body, and Meadow wakes up in the Material body and is like, what the fuck, but from that point on, both bodies are on the ship and relatively safe.

When Lucretia erases everything, she takes Logic Meadow back to the Plane of Logic in the Faerun reality because there would be no reason for both of his bodies to be in the Material Plane that wouldn’t immediately raise suspicions that at least someone figured out about his situation and somehow kidnapped his Logic body and dumped him in the Material Plane. What she didn’t know and didn’t account for, however, was that because Meadow’s Logic body was from the Plane of Logic and was placed in the Plane of Logic, whenever he’s in that body, he remembers everything. So in a very Barry-esque trying to convince himself to do shit to figure out what is going on and find a way to stop Lucretia and find her, Barry, and Lup, Logic Meadow tries to leave instructions for himself when he wakes up as Material Meadow to do all that stuff. But of course, he can only do that convincing by using his own thoughts and trying to think specific things that won’t get censored because it’s not like he can physically write reminders and send it to the Material Plane while he’s trapped in the Plane of Logic. Also, he’s a very stubborn and anxious person, so trying to get himself to do anything is like pulling teeth aslghsdlkhgslg

Anyway, that was a lot, but I really hope you find it an interesting concept? Because I’ve written a few thousand words for it, and it’s been very fun :D

17. Past or present tense? Why? 

I used to write in past tense because I thought that was the only tense anyone ever wrote in when it comes to writing books and stories and stuff, but when I got back into writing more recently, between reading some fics from a couple of different people who wrote in present tense and playing dnd and listening to dnd podcasts where everyone talks in the present tense, I find it easier to write in present tense now lol I did try to write in past tense, but it felt very weird and wrong, and it kind of felt weird at first switching to present tense, but it seems to have worked out better lol I do write in past tense though when I’m writing dreams or flashbacks

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

This is going to be from Double Troubles because I feel like it’s the funniest thing, out of context, that I’ve written in a while (I mean, I guess now there is some context after the info dump on Meadow that I did salkghsdlgh)

There is no way in hell Meadow is going to kill Barry J. Bluejeans.

Screw the list they made and fuck the idea that Barry would be able to tell them anything after he's dead. Deceased. Lost his consciousness and soul. And why in the world would he be okay with dying after he's dead? That's like saying the poor old woman up the street would be okay with someone stealing from her after they've already stolen things from her. Except worse because he's dead.

And if Barry knows of some way to get rid of the amulet, he would be better suited to tell them now while he's alive, but no one could pay them any amount of money to convince them to even tell him about the mere existence of the amulet, let alone show it to him or ask him for advice.

Meadow scrubs his face vigorously with his hands as he swings his legs out of bed. He knows he was just complaining yesterday that he doesn't trust himself anymore, but honestly, how can he trust himself if he has so obviously lost his gods damn mind? Murder Barry Bluejeans, mira...

20. Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you? 

:’)

There was a time, back when I first started writing for the taz fandom, a very short and treasured time where I restrained myself to one project at a time. A project, that was just a single ficlet that could be written within a few days max.

Then Julia Burnsides vs Canon Lore came into my life, and I needed a break from that to write other one shots. And thus two projects at the same time came into my life which I thought I could handle.

And recently, Sierra? It has gotten so out of control

I now have two multichapter fics, two long fics, and like, 8 more ideas I haven’t touched on yet that I said I was going to eventually, and in that time I have written 5 unrelated fics, 4 of them which got published and 1 I just remembered I said I would clean up and then never did, and I! Am! Going! To! Scream!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, it’s fine, I’m fine, thank you for asking lol :)

23. Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard? 

I think it depends on the fic. Dialogue gets hard when I’m trying to figure out how to navigate a social situation that I have absolutely zero idea how I would navigate it in real life and/or I don’t know how to get from point a to point b. And description is generally easy for me, but I did recently notice that I’ve been forgetting to add it in in some places where I should, and I also cannot write facial expressions for the life of me. I have zero ideas on what people do with their faces to communicate any sort of emotion, and I have even less of an idea of what neutral faces are acceptable in what situations because I have no idea about that in real life either so everyone smiles 24/7 because that’s what I do and it’s exhausting to do and even more annoying to write about when every other damn dialogue prompt has some sort of description about the person smiling >:(

I’m getting worked up, sorry :(

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? 

When you find yourself staring at your computer dreading to open up a particular project even though you desperately want to finish it, it most likely means you’re having a hard time figuring out what to write next to actually finish it and need to take a break or you just need a break from it in general. It sucks sometimes when you’re really excited about it, but it’s better to put your energy elsewhere for now whether that means writing a different section of the same project that you have inspiration for or working on a different project altogether. I honestly was really excited about the John fic when I was first writing it, but then I got really stuck and I had put it down for so long I legitimately thought I was never going to finish it. Then while I was trying to figure out something else only tangentially related yesterday to use in Double Troubles, the mental block to finish the John fic lifted, and now I still need to finish it because I had to do other stuff today and ran out of steam last night, but I’m hopeful that it’s going to get done within the next couple of days

40. Write a 9-word fic. 

Davenport’s soul died; then he remembered and came alive

[kiss-my-freckle]

Julie on the finale. I don't see how Katherine was less likely to take blame throughout the show than Stefan:

There’s been a lot of debate this season and really in the series as a whole about accountability when it comes to vampires and their humanity switch. Here in the finale, Stefan addresses the fact that he really is responsible for his actions — like killing Enzo — even when his humanity was off as a vampire. Do you think that accountability is part of why someone like Stefan and Damon and even Vicki were able to find their peace? As opposed to Katherine, who would never take the blame for anything?

I absolutely do, and I think that we had a really delicate dance all series — but specifically this season — with the idea of holding our heroes responsible for their actions. … In the moment it was important that the audience didn’t turn against their heroes, so they could fall on the “well, Stefan was under the control of Ripper Stefan” or “Damon had his humanity off” or “the Devil made him do it” and we could fall back on those excuses. When all is said and done, if you are not willing to take accountability for your actions, whether you’re an addict or possessed by a demon, then you’re not being honest with yourself. And I think it was important for all of us that we acknowledge that, yes, the bloodshed and the damage done by our heroes was real and there’s a price to be paid for that.

Did you draw any inspiration from any particular series finales going into this? Any you revisited and thought, “that gets it right” or “we have to avoid this?”

The three finales that got talked about most often in our writers room over the year were: “Friday Night Lights,” “Six Feet Under,” and “Lost.” You could probably pinpoint the influence of each of those individually in the finale as we did it.

We talked about having to have the wedding in the penultimate episode, but now I’m curious to know what scenes you just had to have in the finale?

Oh gosh. It was very important that we get to have a beautiful final emotionally romantic moment — not romance in the way that you understand it, but an emotionally romantic moment — between Stefan and Elena. And a goodbye that did them service as a couple that we had loved so much. I was determined to see Lexi at the end and to indicate that Stefan’s peace involved reuniting with his best friend. Those are the two off the top of my head that were important.

Were Matt and his dad really planning to die with Vicki and Mystic Falls, assuming the hellfire engulfed the town? They were saved by the (figurative, not literal) bell, but that’s still pretty dark.

I think that they were intending to be the captain of the ship as it went down, like last men standing. They believed in Bonnie. They believed that what she was going to try to do could work. But there was a risk that they would also go up in flames. They’re not standing on the deck, waiting to drown — they just know that that’s a possibility if things don’t go well.

Speaking of fan fiction, a lot will probably come out of the Damon/Elena happy ending. But how long do you think Damon and Elena ended up living in their rich, fulfilled lives together? Did they have children? Elena became a doctor, as planned, but what did Damon do with his humanity?

I have a lot of different versions of what they had together over the decades. Probably, for me, it’s influenced by the enthusiasm of the fandom to want them to have gone to [their loft in] Tribeca and raised their children before they came home to Mystic Falls. So, somehow that’s been embedded in my head, and maybe that’s what they had.

Can you tell me more about the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young & Gifted? How exactly are the young and gifted chosen? They probably can’t all be witches.

No [they’re not], but one of the small runners of this season that I really liked was this idea that, between Kai — who was just born wrong — and the Sirens, too,and even Cade, who were different and so terribly mistreated that they became villains. And the idea of intolerance and not creating a space for children who are different and could potentially go down a dangerous route if they’re not properly taught and cared for — it just felt like a nice, positive message for the future, whether it’s a future of more stories or just a nice button to this story. Certainly the idea of that — of raising somebody right in the face of extreme power — is very much what the fourth season of “The Originals” is all about.

What was your personal favorite callback to the past seasons in this episode? Katherine stealing Damon’s “dot dot dot” line from Season 1 was fun, but Lexi/Elena/Stefan’s car reunion as The Fray played felt like a gut punch.

Every time I see that [Stefan] moment, I am at my happiest and most tearful, because I just think that friendship was so beautiful. Lexi was such a potent character; that song means so much to Stefan and Elena, as it ended our pilot. And Kevin would argue with you Katherine didn’t steal Damon’s “dot dot dot” line — he must’ve learned it from her.

Where does the return of Tiki’s grandad fall on the callback scale?

Oh yeah, that’s my favorite callback!

There are probably only a handful of fans who remember Tiki’s grandad, so it’s quite the callback.

Here’s what’s so great: That almost ended up on a cutting room floor, that scene. Because I had to cut so many moments from the show and I’m a Twitter buddy with the person who runs the Tiki’s Grandad Twitter handle, and so she — I think it’s she — had tweeted me, sort of saying thanks for all the fun over the years and I said, “I’m so devastated. I had a cameo for Tiki’s grandad that just got cut.” And then, by the time we were done editing the show, that one little piece was able to get back in and I was so happy.

I know the Kelly Donovan/succubus thing comes up often when discussing dropped plots or ones the show decided not to do. Her return and tragic end in the penultimate episode makes me wonder: Are there any other specific storylines you wish you could’ve done but didn’t?

After eight years, we dug so deep into the well trying to find stories that we could do that I don’t know that I have any regrets about the ones that we didn’t.

I love her comment about accountability, which I feel is important for all of their characters. This is more Stefan's problem. Damon has no problem with accountability, he has a problem with caring as he has a problem with his humanity in choosing to live like a vampire. What I love about the final Stelena scene is that it's really a Defan and Delena scene... which is basically how they wrote the entire series. All the while Stefan and Elena were together, Delena was their slow burn through it all, and fans could feel that. So for me, Stelena's final goodbye summed the series quite nicely.

The writers already intended for Damon and Elena to live a long, happy life together. They have children and end up living in the Gilbert house, which Damon rebuilds. They note both Stefanie and the Gilbert house in Legacies. It's hard to negate what they've already written for Delena as they wrote it in Elena's journal... "Even after our long and happy life together, Damon is still worried he'll never see Stefan again." More in the fact that the journal entry is written at the end of their lives. Delena's scenes combine past and present, so Elena speaks in past tense while writing in present tense. That's why Damon and Elena are still young when they find peace. They chose to combine past and present rather than age them. Fans can write what they want, but the writers already made it canon that Damon and Elena live a long and happy life together.

I felt like Katherine's “dot dot dot” line was perfect as it only furthered how Damon became just like Katherine and I fully agree with Kevin in that regard. Damon came into town wanting to destroy it for Katherine, and they end the series with Katherine wanting to destroy it. Unlike Plec, I consider Lexi a useless character. She isn't potent, her flashbacks are. Bamon's friendship is far more potent than Stefan's friendship with Lexi could ever be. Vicki finding peace with Tyler is the most hilarious thing to me in the finale.

[scrumpledorph-writes]

Koben’s Rude Awakening (Regret)

Had that dream again. Wish all those memories would stay behind me where I left them. Don’t need all of that weighing on me during my date. Maybe I’ll pick up a quick afternoon job, take my mind off of it. Forgot to pick up that thermal weave from Vranki, guess I could patch up my armor until the evening – meticulous handiwork always leaves me feeling satisfied, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about ruining all this beauty treatment I spent so many credits on.

Two fifty, too early to start the day. Guess I should head to the refresher and see about getting in my last two REM cycles. Know this room layout well enough to navigate it in the dark by now: stand up, walk left to the foot of the bed, follow the wall to the first door. I’ve always admired the efficiency of these low wealth housing designs, everything connecting to the main room so there’s no space wasted on hallways. Imperial designs could get downright opulent even for standard accommodations.

Relieved, thirty second sonic wash complete – my mouth could use a rinse while I’m up. A healthy body is a honed weapon, even the slightest physical affliction is a spot of rust on a blade or corrosion on a battery terminal. A parched mouth is a distraction, a distraction is a lapse in reaction time, and a lapse in reaction time is lethal. Resolved, now there should be no impairment to my ability to fall back to sleep. A flashbang just went off in the main room.

Whoever threw it isn’t tracking me actively, or they’d have thrown it in here. Vibro-blade cutting through the wooden deadbolt. Figured just being located remotely enough would deter forced entry, but I need to acquire a better lock. The door is still wood, so if I bought a better lock it would be wasted on it, meaning I need to invest in a full steel door after this. Suppose if I’m doing that I should also upgrade to tamper proof shutters. Home ownership is a real hassle.

‘I know you’re in here Tarani. There’s a nice price on your head, enough to kick-start my bounty hunting career for real, and celebrate my first catch with an unforgettable red light weekend.’ An amateur? I figured I’d be facing down a kill squad, what a relief – this guy barely sounds old enough to pilot a speeder. Guess I’m far enough out that the Empire has better things to do than chase me.

‘Come on, don’t make this difficult. All your gear’s in here with me, just come out so I can blast you already.’ His voice is close now, just a little longer. The light of his glowrod’s poking through the door, just cross the threshold – there! Control the blaster, aim it towards the ceiling – wow this really is just a kid, he doesn’t even come up to my chest – swift knee to the groin, followup to the throat. Couple scorch marks on the ceiling, nothing I can’t wash off. Not a bad blaster, might keep this one under my pillow in case this ever happens again.

He’s reaching for the knife, can’t fault him for trying. One shot to the hand should suffice. ‘Aww fuck, that thing wasn’t on stun you bitch!’ Better search him. Just the vibro-knife for weapons, but a lot of survival gear: ration packs, stims, climbing gear, distress flares, emergency battery, repair tools, inflatable tent, water purifying tablets. Commendable preparation for everything but combat – would have made a great field scout. No idea why he picked bounty hunting.

‘Talk. When and where did you accept the bounty?’ ‘Why would I tell you anything?!’ ‘I have to kill you to keep my location safe. If you answer my questions I’ll shoot you in the head, if not I’ll break your limbs and drop you out on the flats for the scavengers.’ Honestly would have preferred a professional just so we can skip this part. ‘Eat shit lady, when my dad finds out about this-’ Ah, that explains it; rich kid looking for some excitement. Oh well. Right arm is as good as anywhere to start: kneel down, rest the elbow over the leg, brace it at the shoulder-

‘Wait! Holy shit you’re really gonna do it. I’ve been tailing you for three months, from two systems back, using my connections to put together the paper trail on the Buckethead In Black – and it finally led me here.’ That’s what they call me? I was prepared for the life of living off the grid, cutting and running at a moment’s notice – but even the boot-camp nicknames were more flattering than that.

‘Were you working with anyone?’ ‘Do you think anyone else would chase such an old lead this long, hell no!’ ‘Then why did you?’ ‘I wanted a bounty with some real wow to it! I figured your charges had been trumped up – the desertion sounded believable, but I’d never even heard of the Purge Corps or the Inquisition until I started digging – so I thought you were just some nobody who got stuck with a bad reputation by a prick with a grudge on the way out! You get sloppy after five years, I put a stun shot or two in your gut, bring you back in, get a nice fat juicy payday and be the talk of the Bounty Hunter’s Guild for a few months, leverage it into some better work.’

‘You mentioned your father, who is he?’ ‘Doubt you’d know him, he’s an Inner Rim corporate bigshot. Wanted to set me up with a nice cushy desk job, I figured the paperwork would kill me faster than this. Stole one of his spare shuttles, got the tracker ripped out so he couldn’t send a goon squad to rain on my fun. He...He won’t come looking.’ This is depressing. Maybe I should scare him so bad he gives up the life, pack up and find somewhere else to settle down for a while. He goes back home, gets a big teary eyed reunion. I never see Brayli again. Damn it. Sorry kid, you picked a dangerous line of work, and made all the worst mistakes.

‘That’s all my questions. Get up.’ ‘Don’t wanna get blood on your floor? Not like this place is nice enough to bother.’ ‘It’s not that. You haven’t done enough wrong to deserve to die face down in the dark, and the suns come up early here. I don’t want to kill you, but I have to – the least I can do is let you see one of the most beautiful things I can think of before I do it.’ I’ve never been good at handling people crying.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I understand. You get the bounty or the bounty gets you, I guess I just figured that only old bounty hunters who couldn’t keep up any more died.’ He’s taking this better than I expected. I guess all the bluster and machismo loses its appeal when you know it won’t make a difference. ‘You got it backwards kid, the hotshots who think they’ll live forever are the ones who go down first.’ ‘Yeah, that makes sense now that you spell it out. I could take you back with me, get you hired as a bodyguard. Six figures.’ ‘I have other commitments here.’ I can’t blame him for trying. It might have worked a week ago. Hard to keep a blaster pointed at someone while getting dressed.

We’re on the highest dune I can see within walking distance, this will have to do. I can see the light creeping up, nothing to do now but wait a few more minutes. ‘You said something about hotshots. Were you ever one?’ ‘No. I was excited to join the corps, but I was excited to learn the standard way to do things. Spent a lot of free time training.’ ‘Yeah, I can tell. Laid me out so fast I was on the floor before I noticed you.’ It’s the one thing I know how to do, I should be good at it.

‘Oh wow, that is pretty. I’ve never really seen a sunrise before, all the skyscrapers just block it out back home. Thanks. I’m ready whenever I guess.’ ‘You can let the heat soak in for a few more minutes.’ My hand is shaking. This is absurd, I’ve done far worse than this to civilians without flinching back in the Corps. I did it because I needed to, without questioning, because it was an order. But nobody’s ordering me this time.

It’s self defense, he tried to kill me. Even if he’s just a kid in over his head running from his old life, just like I did. Killing for credits, just like I did. Realizing all his mistakes too late, just like I am.

I have enough credits to get Brayli out of here, pack up both our lives and start them over somewhere else. Sure I haven’t told her, but I’ll have to eventually, and if she doesn’t react well then we weren’t meant to be, so it’s better for me to rip off that bandage sooner rather than later. ‘Hey, I’ve soaked it all in. Do it before I get a sunburn and ruin it, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ I never knew a hair-trigger could feel so heavy.