#but i figured i should take it again and see if it changed... and lo and behold...

[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 23

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂

<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

23. Every Breath You Take

“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.

“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.

“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”

“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”

Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.

He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.

“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.

Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”

Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”

“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.

But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.

Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”

“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.

Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?

“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.

Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”

“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.

“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.

But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”

Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.

“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.

Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”

Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.

Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?

He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.

“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.

Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.

“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.

Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”

Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.

And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?

But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.

However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.

But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.

Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.

“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”

“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.

He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.

Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.

Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.

“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”

Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”

See? Wine.

“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.

“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”

“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.

“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.

“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.

There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.

Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.

And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.

On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.

“Dean, please…”

That was the fourth – like clockwork.

Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.

Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.

“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”

“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”

“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.

“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.

“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”

But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.

She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.

Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.

But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?

With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.

He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.

All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.

However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.

Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.

Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.

But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.

“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.

Oh.

“Uh…”

Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.

The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.

“Dean? Dean!”

Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.

He does know how to make an entrance.

Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”

“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”

“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”

“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”

“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.

The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.

“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.

“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.

“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”

Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”

As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.

“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.

“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”

“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.

“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.

Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.

“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.

Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.

“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.

“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”

Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”

At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.

Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”

Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”

“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”

Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.

“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.

“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.

Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”

“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”

Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.

Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.

Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.

“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”

“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.

“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”

“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.

Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.

“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”

“Yeah, I get it…”

Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.

But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.

And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.

“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.

“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”

“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”

“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”

Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”

“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.

Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.

“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.

With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”

“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”

“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.

“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.

“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.

“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.

“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”

“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.

“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”

Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.

“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.

“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”

Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.

“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.

“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”

Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”

Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”

It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.

“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”

“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.

Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.

“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.

24. Don't Dream It's Over

Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus

Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi

[medusapelagia]

23 Meet me at Skull Rock

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Skull Rock) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt:Musician ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Using Tongue) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: no one Words: 1403

(Did Tumblr eat my fic... AGAIN?! Yes! It did! But now I'm smarter and I have copies! Lol XD)

The car is parked down the road, hidden behind a thick bush and a big tree, the same place Steve used every time he hung out at Skull Rock. Nobody could see it from the street and that gave him all the privacy he needed.

Steve has been to Skull Rock so many times by now, but every time was different from the time before.

There was a time when he was still King Steve and he used to come here with the girl of the week. There was a time when he was just Steve, and he drove Nancy here just to look at the stars and intertwine their fingers. There was a time when he was a warrior, ready to fight, and he came to save a friend.

But this time...

This time is different from all the other times.

This time is a goodbye.

Eddie hasn’t really told him, but when he asked him to meet at Skull Rock Steve immediately got it. The road is close enough to the highway. They can share a joint, drink a beer or two, and then Eddie will drive his car far away from Hawkins. From the place that was never home to him. And Steve will remain. Because his roots are deep and strong and he can’t move. Not when the boys are still there. Not when Robin has promised to take a year off to help him figure out what he wants to do with his life. Not when his parents finally came back to take care of him even if he doesn’t need it anymore.

“My liege! Come! Sit down! I already started a fire and brought some s’mores.”

Steve sits on the ratty blanket Eddie has laid down on the ground to protect his royal ass from the bumpy rocks, grabbing a marshmallow and stabbing it with a stick, roasting it on the flame.

Crackers and chocolate are waiting for him at Eddie’s side when he puts the hot candy out of the fire.

“So, you’re going to try?” Steve asks, squishing the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate.

“I have nothing to lose,” Eddie mumbles, his mouth full of crackers and some chocolate dripping down his fingers.

“Musician. That’s a cool career.”

“That’s the dream: playing my songs in an arena full of people who sing along with me. And there are other benefits. Like groupies, free stuff, and money. So much money.” Eddie adds in a dreamy tone.

“Yeah. It sounds, nice.”

“I know I’m dreaming big, but you should try it sometime. It really changes your day.  And even if I won’t make it, I will be far from this stupid town anyway, so that’s a plus. In a big town like Los Angeles, I could get lost in no time. No more angry parents threatening me or Wayne, no more slashed tires. No more spray paint on the trailer. Yeah. It sounds like Paradise.”

“The boys?”

“Jeff is coming with me, he is going to attend college in California anyway, And next year Gareth and Frank will graduate too so we’ll be reunited. And maybe we’ll finally make it big. If not, there are so many bars where we could play. I'm not worried at all.”

Steve nods quietly while inside him his feelings are bubbling like a hot soup. He reaches out to grab another marshmallow, and his hand bumps into Eddie’s. The metal head smiles brightly, “Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” he says, offering him the bag to grab another candy, but that seems to be Steve’s breaking point. He drops the bag of candies, not caring about ants or other insects, and pushes Eddie with his shoulders to the ground.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers on Eddie’s lips, “tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave.”

Eddie’s eyes have always been big, but right now they are huge pools of chocolate brown staring at him in astonishment.

He doesn’t ask Steve to stop, he doesn’t push him away or scream against him, he grabs the back of Steve’s head with one hand and drags him toward himself. Eddie tastes like chocolate and candies with a hint of cheap beer, that’s what Steve will remember about his first kiss with a man. His hands are strong and his long slim fingers are curling on Steve’s back, urging him closer, and closer. They’re chest to chest, Steve practically crushing Eddie with his body, and then Steve’s tongue pushes a little bit harder and Eddie grants him permission to kiss him deeply. Their tongue meets halfway, as if they couldn’t wait to finally touch each other. Steve’s tongue twirls and moves faster into Eddie’s mouth and Eddie follows his lead, obediently. It’s not so different from kissing a girl, the only difference is Eddie’s chapped lips and a hint of beard growth brushing against Steve’s chin, but Steve doesn’t startle at the realization that he’s kissing a man. He just makes himself softer and kinder, not wanting to leave Eddie with a bad memory of their first kiss.

Steve doesn’t know how long they keep kissing, he hasn’t made out for so long in months and he’s somehow surprised when he finds Eddie straddling him, their hard dicks brushing one against the other behind their jeans.

But then Eddie retreats, crawling backward on the blanket.

“What was that?” he asks, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand, and Steve knows he fucked up, he really did.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Is that so? I don’t know what I was thinking?! You fucking kissed me, man!” Eddie yells, “You… you stole it from me!”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Steve replies tiredly, “I kissed you, I made a big mistake, and I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you should have not!” Eddie insists, and now he’s standing, touching with his fingertips his plum lips, “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know Eds. I wanted to, okay? You’re leaving anyway, why does it matter? It’s not like you have never been kissed before!” Steve sighs, brushing a hand through his hair, and then the realization hits him. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t your first kiss, right? You… you have all those dirty magazines you bought in Indy, you always talk about that stupid hanky code. You… you have never been kissed before.” Steve whispers, pinching his nose, “Listen, man, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean it? Thank you, Steve! That makes things so much better!” Eddie complains, his arms crossed in front of him, “Hey Eddie, I stole your first kiss because I was drunk and sad. I don’t even like boys but you were here so I just did it. Sorry. But we’re fine right?” Eddie yells, mocking Steve’s voice.

“That’s not… It’s not like that, ok? It wasn’t…”

“It wasn’t what? An experiment? A test?”

“I do like you, moron!” Steve finally yells and his voice reverberates in the quiet of the woods, then he lowers his tone, “I do like you. I have liked you for quite a bit but I never gather the courage to say anything. And now you’re leaving and I won’t see you again, and maybe you’re right, I’m sad and drunk. But I did mean it, Eddie. It wasn’t an experiment. I swear.” Steve almost whispers, avoiding staring at Eddie in the eyes. 

The metalhead is still standing in front of the fire, his silhouette dark and ominous.

“You did? You really meant it?” Eddie asks, and this time it looks like his crossed arms are pulling him together instead of shielding him.

“I did. I do.”

Very slowly, Eddie sits back on the blanket, “I’m going to leave anyway,” Eddie reminds him.

“I know. It’s the right thing to do.” Steve agrees.

“But maybe… you and Buckley could think about joining me next year. Or the year after.”

Steve reaches out with one hand, caressing Eddie’s arm.

“I’d love to.”

“So… maybe we can try again? Practice makes perfect, you know?”

Steve chuckles, “Yes. Yes, we can. Come here, babe.”

They kiss until the sun rises and when they get back to their cars Eddie’s last promise is that he’ll call him as soon as he’ll find a place to stay. And if Steve is already waiting for Eddie's call, sitting next to the phone, is none‘s business.

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; 𝘯𝘩13 ୨୧

➪ summary: after another loss, nico begins to think the captain spot just isn't for him

➪ warnings: nico thinks he's a shitty captain, nico has negative thoughts, the 23-24 devils (real)

➪ word count: 1.7k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: this was so hard to go back and read, i felt so bad for him after this game. anyway, justice for nico next year fr

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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One after the other the Lightning scored. Devils bounced back once, twice, three times but it wasn’t good enough. Would anything he did be good enough? Was he doing enough as captain? Was he pushing them as hard as he should be pushing them? Was he contributing to their loss? Was he the reason?

All those thoughts plagued Nico’s mind as he walked back through the tunnel both upset and embarrassed with his team’s performance. He wasn’t sure if he was mad enough to break something, most likely his stick, or if he was embarrassed enough to hide from the crowds and the fans on the internet.

He felt disgusting, beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead, and his hair greasy and sweaty as well. He could feel how he smelled as he took off his gear and threw it into the cubby. He attempted to calm himself, taking a deep breath just as she taught him but it wasn’t working. 

He felt annoyed, frustrated, and angry as he did post-game, all these feelings were sitting up front in his mind, ready to flow out of his mouth as he answered questions. 

“Disappointing, I’m embarrassed a bit, to be honest. We got outworked, outplayed in such a big game. The way we performed is embarrassing.”

“I wish I could answer that, just not good enough. I have to calm down here and think about it. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“I hope everybody thinks about what team they want to be a part of coming down the stretch. If we want to be a playoff team, we have to figure something out.”

He finished getting change, gears reeling in his mind as he put his suit jacket back on. He was the last one out of the locker room and with it being All-Star break, he was glad he didn’t have to look at anything even remotely hockey-related for a while. 

He saw her in the distance, pacing back and forth. It was an unusual look for her, usually, she was the calm one in the relationship. In reality, she was nervous about how to calm Nico down. From the moment the Lightning scored those two goals she knew how much Nico would be blaming himself. 

She locked eyes with him after two minutes of him just standing there staring at her, “You ready?”

He just nodded, running his hand through his hair again. She sighed and held out her arm for him which he took immediately, his hand intertwining with hers. She gave his hand a squeeze and he retaliated with one of his one, walking in silence to her car. Nico was in no state to drive so she opened the passenger door for him, allowing him to climb in. 

She took a deep breath after shutting the door and making her way to the driver's side. As she rounded the front of her car she looked at him through the front windshield, he looked disheveled. He looked sad, dejected. She hadn’t seen him look like this in a while, maybe even ever. She opened the driver's side door and climbed in herself, turning on the radio and adjusting her mirrors as if she hadn’t been the one driving before.

She played lo-fi music on their back to her hotel, Nico already had planned to stay the night with her. The car ride was silent besides the soft beats coming from the speakers and the raindrops hitting the car. She had the air conditioning on low, it was 70 degrees in Flordia. She had taken her jacket off, handing it to Nico who held it close to his chest. 

Halfway through the drive, she glanced over at her boyfriend to see that he had now taken his suit jacket off and wrapped himself in hers. Nico’s eyes were looking everywhere but at her, not even daring to risk the chance of their eyes locking again. He knew the second they did, he would blow a fuse or start bawling his eyes out.

When they got to the hotel, y/n pulled into the closest spot possible. They sat there for a few minutes, both of them debating on what they wanted to do. She looked at her boyfriend, eyes saddened by how he looked, “You ready to go up?”

He hadn’t spoken a word since he finished post-game, not wanting to say anything he would regret later, so he just nodded. They both exited the car and walked into the hotel and to the elevators. Nico reached for her hand when they got into the elevator and it started to move up. She gave him a soft smile, tightening her hold on his hand.

They walked to her room, y/n swiping her card and opening the door wide for him. They stood in the entranceway of the room, both silent and looking around. She looked at him as she threw her keys on the counter and went to take his suit jacket out of his hands, her jacket still lying around his shoulders.

“You gonna go take a shower, baby?”

He nodded slightly, giving her all the strength he could muster right now. She sighed again and nodded, kissing him on his shoulder before rubbing his back. Before he could get far, y/n handed him the clothes that she had brought down for him. He smiled a very small, but grateful, smile at her before turning around and walking into the bathroom. 

She let him be for a few minutes, changing into her clothes before knocking on the door realizing that the shower wasn’t running yet, “Neeks?”

He let out a very soft and deep ‘hmm’ as he stopped whatever he was doing, “Is there anywhere specific you want to eat.”

He sighed, “I’m not really hungry.”

She frowned at his words, worry seeping deep into her brows, “I know, honey, but you got to eat something.”

He didn’t sound frustrated when he spoke, he knew she was right but he just wanted to go to bed, “I’m not hungry, y/n.”

She was slightly taken aback by the use of her name, he never called her that. She looked up at the ceiling, tears welling in her eyes, “Okay. I’m going to order some food just in case you want to eat later.”

He didn’t say anything after that, turning on the shower. When she heard the water running she walked away from the door and sat on the bed, toying with the edge of her pajama pants. She turned on the TV, scrolling to find anything remotely interesting to watch. 

She ordered pizza, one of the simpler things to get delivered, and one that was open this late at night. She played along with the Game Show Network, Family Feud was on right now. She looked up when she heard the bathroom door click open. Nico stepped out, his gray sweatpants hung low on his hips and his t-shirt was clutched in his hands. He walked over to the bed, looking at the TV to see what was on.

He crawled onto the bed, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s hips, and laying his head in her lap. Y/n ran her hand through his now freshly washed hair. She almost cried herself when she felt her pant leg dampening from tears, “Honey…”

“It’s my fault, y/n. I can’t lead this team to the victory we need. I can’t do anything. I can’t fucking shoot. I can’t score. I can’t- I can’t-” His breathing picked up and y/n lifted his head from her lap, making him sit up so she could look at him face to face.

She cupped his cheeks and brought his face closer to hers, “Breathe, honey. It’s okay, just focus on me okay? It’s gonna pass, I promise.”

A few breaths later, his breathing regulated into its usual pattern, “I’m gonna need you to listen to me, Nico.”

He nodded his head but didn’t look into her eyes, “Look at me Neeks.”

He did, his eyes gazing into hers causing him to tear up again, “It is not your fault, you hear me? I cannot tell you how amazing you have been doing for this team. This team would not be the same without you. Remember when you got hurt back in October? They were not at their best.”

“That’s because-”

“No. It had nothing to do with Jack. Even when Jack came back they still weren’t playing well but as soon as you came back you went what? 8 and 2 in 10 games. You have done nothing but keep this team and their good spirits up. You are the core of this team, Nico. They cannot do it without you. So what people say differently. Screw what they say, hell even screw what Lindy says.

“You cannot bring yourself down because of what the team couldn’t do. Sure you can go on and on about how you could’ve helped them practice or given them advice but at the end of the day, they are in charge of their own performance. Do not let people bring you down because you are better than that.”

Nico held tears in his eyes, starting to slowly believe her. Those negative feelings that had hit him at the end of the game left his mind and he just buried his head into her chest, letting her run her hands through his hair and rub slow circles on his back. 

“I love you, and I am so so so proud of you.”

He sniffled, “Thank you. I love you too.”

She kissed his head and moved him to lie down under the covers of the bed. Nico let himself be fully encompassed in her arms with the soft noise of the TV still playing in the background.

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 3 - A Manageable Situation

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: As LaCroix brings Vincent home to Venture Tower, each one has a very simple plan. Surely all will go well.

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, kidnapping

Vincent drifted through the city of angels, a prisoner in his own body. Bars and restaurants and strip clubs flashed past in neon and chain link and rain-drenched concrete. The downpour did nothing to stifle the city stench, but rather enhanced it. The air was too warm, too humid, the look of palms and alien plants more unfamiliar than it should have been, given that he’d watched American movies. But everything looked different in person. He had been to the states before, but never the west coast. It occurred to him, in fact, that he was probably farther from Versailles than he’d ever been.

By the clock on the dash, it was just past 8 PM local time. The whole night lay ahead of them. And LaCroix was just getting started, taking his “early” business calls in the front seat as the city’s nightlife shook itself awake. Meanwhile, Vincent fought against the hunger and exhaustion that had not been properly addressed for days even before he was taken.

With Sebastian’s concentration slipping to other concerns, Vincent’s numbed emotions were slipping back into the pit of his stomach, where they tied themselves into an aching knot. Horror was there, in nightmarish quantity, but so was hope - a feverish, desperate kind of hope. This was not the time to panic, but to plan. This was really a very manageable situation, all things considered. “No one is looking for you because no one knows you are missing.” He kept repeating those words to himself. LaCroix was quite right. All he had to do was contact someone. Even being seen alive in public might be enough. And then everyone would be looking for him. And they’d take him away. And LaCroix would be so devastated…pictures of him kept intruding into Vincent’s mind, crying over Vincent, losing him, missing him. There was some overwhelming desire to see LaCroix utterly pathetic on his account. It wasn’t ideal to be so fixated on LaCroix, but…better to hate him than to love him. In the midst of this feeling, it was possible to dream of escape, and so he clung to it.

He’d been directly commanded not to jump out of the vehicle, but he rested his forehead against the glass, hoping to be seen as the streetlamps passed over him in cycling flashes of yellow. But they were, of course, moving too quickly for anyone to recognize him, even if any of the passersby somehow knew who he was. Without any incident, the car came to a stop in front of an enormous skyscraper which LaCroix announced as Venture Tower.

The building itself seemed hostile, designed for intimidation. What kind of a man flanked his doorway with these god-awful Modernist figures of what Vincent could only describe as emaciated shadow people? It was chilling, but in such an unsophisticated way, like hoisting up a head on a pike for all to see. He wondered if they were meant to represent those Sebastian had drained of blood. He tried to play off his shudder of body horror as mere aesthetic disgust. “How is it that you lived through Romanticism without absorbing a single one of its artistic principles? It was wasted on you.”

LaCroix’s eyes widened and Vincent realized too late that he’d given himself away. Until now, the Prince probably thought he was still under full domination. “Already running your mouth again? Extraordinary, how you break free. So much so, in fact, that I’ll indulge you.” He gestured to the dismal grey lobby that would have been better suited to a penitentiary. “I change with the times and the requirements of leadership. It’s called branding, Vincent, and it saves lives. You’ll find the penthouse better suited to your tastes, but there’s no reason for the masses to see how I furnish my own living space. They have a tendency to start lopping off heads when they see too much open gaudiness…or firing bullets through skulls, as the case may be.” The Prince eyed Vincent’s embroidered greatcoat pointedly, as if that had been the sole reason for Wick’s dispute with him.

But he hadn’t stolen Vincent’s voice again, and that was something. Better try for a compliment, keep him talking.

“It does make for a brutal spectacle, at least, which is its own sort of…functionality.” His eyes were fixed on the elevator’s emergency call button, and his mind on the phone at the front desk of the lobby. His own cell phone had been confiscated at some point in his unconsciousness. Who was carrying it? LaCroix, or the Sheriff?

LaCroix nodded, no doubt pleased with his own advice. That confident smile, the way his mouth curled back against his fangs…Vincent suddenly felt like he had lost command of himself again. It was so difficult to look at this man without wanting to crush him to pieces. “You’ll learn a great deal with me, Vincent. I’m offering you an opportunity, to serve the interests of the Camarilla, to rule over LA at my side…and eventually much more than that, as your regnant’s hold expands.”

An opportunity to serve. How enticing. Vincent physically bit his tongue until his irritation subsided before replying. “Do you take me for a fool, LaCroix? I know what it means to share power, and it does not interest me.”

“How unfortunate. Then you will have none. You’ve lost your privileges again.”

A violent jolt of compulsion followed, stronger than anything on the aircraft. He was a passenger in his body again for the remainder of the elevator ride. He drifted powerless into the heart of Sebastian’s domain, gliding past the collection of history paintings that had been missing from the art historical community for hundreds of years, past the gold filigree flickering with firelight and the white moon that flashed through driving rain to cast a sliver of halo against the Prince’s hair. Sebastian wasn’t joking – he was a man of taste after all, and to be at the epicenter of his power was to walk in a decadent dream.

Never had Vincent felt so completely in the power of another person. Never had he felt another person’s strength so directly, inside of his own body and surrounding him on every side with the fruits of his superior’s machinations. He was totally and completely in Sebastian’s hold, spurred to the point of some manic envy. Two centuries of power were concentrated in this room. It made him want to sing and scream out loud, to climb the walls and knife the cushions, to tear the curtains with his teeth, to fling himself at LaCroix and…and…

To outdo him. How good it would feel, to conquer the most magnificent man he had ever seen. An opportunity. Yes, an opportunity to conquer. To see you broken and wretched. To impress you, REALLY impress you, until you bow to me. You’ll look so pretty weeping on your knees when your new pet disappears back to France with all your secrets, Bast…shame I won’t be here to see it… He shook himself, trying to focus only on the return home, but the return home was tied up with a powerful vengefulness towards LaCroix. To live, to be himself, was to struggle against LaCroix. His blood was pounding wildly all through his body, livid with another man’s vital energy.

Then Sebastain’s hands were on him, guiding him gently into a chair. “Easy. It’s hitting you, isn’t it? You like my pretty things?”

Oh, Sebastian. You don’t understand at all. In a wrathful haze, he grinned. “…Oui.”

“Good then.” He straightened up and snapped his fingers at the Sheriff. “He’s coming under control. We should be alright.” They were whispering about some assignment, and the Sheriff was gone.

Vincent stared into the fire, half insensible and trembling. I’m going to devastate him. I’m going to make him hurt. I’m going to devour everything that’s his and make it MINE.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

LaCroix opened his briefcase, removing the contents from his travels and settling in at his desk for the night. He was thoroughly relieved. It was really a very manageable situation. The Marquis just took a while to feel the full effects. Perhaps that made sense, given how long it had taken him to heal from the bullet wound. Regrowing a brain was such a long process. But the vitae had finally taken root, and he was completely entranced.

Sebastian’s eyes lingered on Vincent. He was shaking in some ecstasy of reverence or lust, his eyes fixed on a Ventrue crest above the fireplace. It was strangely…disappointing. To see him like this was such an insult to the Marquis who had been fighting for his freedom tooth and nail just minutes ago. The Prince couldn’t help the sense that he had crushed something irreplaceable, and that it wasn’t worth it. Brought to heel, Vincent was cute, but before he had been…

Well, anyway, he wasn’t just cute. He really was bright. It was only a matter of how best to use him. He’d make a uniquely opportune spy within the High Table if there was some way to send him back in without compromising the Masquerade. But that was doubtful, and besides, he’d make just as clever a spy within the underworld. It seemed a shame to waste him among the kine - a specimen such as this wasn’t meant for such a life.

Or he could be useful on the trail of the Sarcophagus…

“Join me for a moment.” It was somewhere between hilarious and painful, watching Vincent cross the room. He wasn’t unsteady exactly, but pulled taut as a violin string. He practically vibrated. Sebastian could hear his racing heart. Vincent’s wide eyes locked onto his face and could not turn away. There was still something terrifying in them, and he found himself wondering whether he hadn’t best calm him down before attempting conversation. “…Are you quite well now, Vincent?”

“I am…hungry.” It was said with all the strained desperation of a newborn vampire. “Please, Prince. I know you don’t need to eat, but it’s been all day and night for me. Won’t you get me something, anything?”

He smiled, indulgent. Vincent wasn’t just cute this way, he was adorable. Those pleading eyes. “Alright. One moment, and then we’ll have a talk over your breakfast.”

One moment, turned away to call the front desk. And Vincent had already retrieved his cell phone from the briefcase and run halfway across the room. It was ringing.

He swore and made after him. “Oh for - Just where do you think you’re going!?” Vincent only sped up and disappeared into the stairwell. For god’s sake, his legs were so long…

Down they spiraled, Sebastian shouting useless commands that only seemed to spur him onward. It was no use to take him by force, it would have to be old-fashioned reason. “WHOEVER THAT IS WILL DIE IF YOU SAY A WORD!” The words echoed down some twenty stories. More quietly, for Vincent’s ears only, “The Masquerade. Recall what I told you.”

Vincent went still. In the sudden silence, a voice could be heard on the other side, barely loud enough to filter out towards LaCroix. “Hello? Who is this? It’s not possible that this is the Marquis.”

Panting, staring up at LaCroix with unbridled hatred, Vincent hung up the phone. Why did that look cut him so deeply? He pushed the pain aside and continued his descent, slowly now. Vincent did not retreat any further. “Good boy. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But you have to understand that I couldn’t let you go now even if I wanted to. It’s a violation of all our laws. To save you, I had to take you away. Permanently. You cannot go back.” He came to the same step as Vincent, looking up at him now, their bodies inches apart. “And now that I have you, can you fault me for putting you to use? When you are such a sharpened tool that you frighten even me?”

Very softly, “I frighten you?”

“…Dreadfully.”

Vincent’s eyes had never looked softer, never more innocently pleased. “Merveilleux.” And he lifted Sebastian right off his feet, and hurled him over the railing.

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹(coming soon)

Image Sources: One (background) | One (Vincent) | Two

[max1461]

Here's my other problem with tumblr discourse: even when I make the context/intended interpretation of a post really explicit, people ignore this context and respond to it in like... for lack of a more charitable term, a discoursebrained way.

So a while ago I made a post about some ethical intuition I had, and at the top I put a huge disclaimer which said something to the effect of "this is just an expression of my feelings, it's not meant to be a philosophically airtight position, please don't take it as such", followed by a readmore and then the actual post. Why did I do that? Because I figured that if I didn't, people would nitpick it in various technical ways that missed the basic point. Lo and behold several people still did that, and when I replied basically restating the disclaimer, one of them said "oh I didn't even see that. Well I think if you post a half-baked thought online I retain the right to nitpick it".

I guess that's true. My blog is public. But the point is that I want to use my blog for certain things and not others, right, that's what I'm attempting to do. And people seem actively resistant to my attempts to guide the discussion on my blog in certain directions, which makes blogging less enjoyable. Of course some people will always do that, that fact doesn't bother me, but it feels like the irrelevant/point-missing discourse so often overshadows the meaningful discourse that I start to feel less of a desire to put in the effort.

Like, the point of issuing that disclaimer was to say, as explicitly as I could manage, "I am trying to have a discussion about feelings and intuitions here, I am aware there might be ways these intuitions are not fully consistent, but that is not the discussion I'm trying to have". But even so explicit an attempt to specify a conversation topic does not work; the discourse machine demands a certain kind of engagement and that is the engagement every post will get no matter what.

I don't want to put the person who missed my disclaimer on blast: it's honestly an error that anyone could make and on its own it's no big deal. If said person is reading this: you didn't do anything wrong and I am not mad at you, to be 100% clear.

It's not a one-off mistake that bothers me, it's the fact that this is how discussions on here so often go that putting in the effort to discuss things productively often feels wasted.

Another example of this that... if you go through my #society tag, you will see a lot of uncertainly in my phrasing. You will see me say a lot of "it seems like we should..." and "we should find some mechanism to..." and so on and so forth. Why? Because, as I've mentioned before, I've gotten a lot out of political discourse on here. When it's good, I actually find it quite good. But it's good when it has a constructive or collaborative tone, when I am bouncing ideas or thoughts back and forth with someone. Generally I am trying to invite this kind of discourse.

Sometimes, again, I say it really explicitly. I don't have them off the top of my head, but I know there are quite a lot of #society posts where I've said something quite straightforwardly to the effect of "here are some niche social/political issues I've been contemplating, does anyone have any ideas for how to respond to them". Obviously there's a spectrum in how explicit I am about this, but even when I'm really clear, most of the responses I get are still "discoursebrained", in the sense that they seem antagonistic and generally more interested in saying "X guys are cool and Y guys are lame" than in productively engaging with a set of ideas.

Even if you disagree with my claims or my premises, there is a way to state that which adds to a conversation instead of shutting down a line of inquiry. I am always trying to invite this type of mutually-productive discussion, and I so rarely achieve it.

Over the years my methods have changed. I come from a background of like, forums for specific nerd interests. Those places are plenty contentious, full of plenty of drama and disagreement. But ultimately, I always still felt that productive discussion was valued above destructive discussion; that because we were all united in a common goal of [doing our nerdy hobby], a comment where you build on someone's idea to say something useful to others or to introduce a new insight was generally valued above one where you just said "you're wrong for such and such reasons, hah!" or even "you're right for such and such reasons".

Coming from this background, I assumed this would also be the case on tumblr, and that I would not have to put in any extra effort to invite this sort of discourse. Alas, this was not true; even long and thought-out replies from respected discoursers often just amount to "here are the guys I agree with and here are the guys I disagree with, for such and such reasons". This is lame and boring and not appealing to me.

So over the years I've tried to be more and more explicit about what types of discussion I am trying to have, I've tried to tee up the sort of interactions I want as much as possible, but it hasn't really worked.

The problem is not strictly the quality or measuredness of the responses or their tone or anything like that. These are the things most people focus on when they critique the discourse, but I think they miss the point. The problem is that most responses don't seem to be intended to advance a mutually-productive discussion, they don't build on the base of what they are responding to, they just make various assertions and statements of allegiance in the vicinity of the material they are responding to and call it a day.

Maybe this is too harsh. I'm sure I do this too. And it's not always bad. Sometimes I use someone else's post openly as a jumping off point to elaborate my own ideas (although I try to be careful about this, and also make it somewhat clear that I am doing it), and this can be productive. I do actually want to hear people's ideas. It's not any single instance of these things I'm complaining about, it's just that discoursey responses seem to drown out all other types of discussion, even when you are really clear about what type of discussion you are trying to have.

So that's my complaint.

[finelinevogue]

these are angsty times, so i feel like a good angsty blurb about h never making time for you is one idea. but since these are angsty times, then maybe it also calls for fluff so maybe h likes to do one thing different in any of his songs for you every show? kind of like sabrina carpenter’s nonsense outro? so like maybe during keep driving, he always sings something different to you or about you?

pls tell me i’m making sense, i can’t talk i’m too excited

okay hello. of course my first blurb back would be requested at the hands of our very own nova (this is especially for you);

(this is part of the harryshouse!universe too)

It was a known thing that Harry was very much in love with you.

If anything, the poor man was so in love with you he got teased for it. Even the fans were in on some of the jokes. You being a well known Youtuber and social media influencer meant that Harrys doting love was often well publicised.

Actions such as him buying you flowers, him making you dinner or taking you out for a fancy dinner would be shown on your Instagram for fans, and everyone else, to see. However, simple things like stolen kisses, hand-written love notes and 3AM ice-cream runs for you were actions that you kept secret and close to your heart.

Those actions were yours and Harrys alone.

There were some actions, however that were made overtly public so even people that didn't have Instagram or follow you would hear of.

Some of Harrys love declarations made National news headlines.

Specifically the changing of lyrics at his concerts.

Like stated, it was no surprise that the love Harry had for you would cause him to do some crazy things, but Harry changing his lyrics on stage would always be on of the greater, funnier, gestures for you. What's more, is they were as public as they came.

It started with 'Keep Driving'. In New York, night 3.

Nobody was expecting the show to be any different musically to the night before, except for when he changed the lyrics to 'Keep Driving'. At first the fans thought he was singing a different song, but afterwards, through re-watching videos, they came to learn the new lyrics he'd made.

"Cocain, Y/N's boob. I choke her, with a sea view."

When you had come to realise what he had sung you had gone red in the face.

"Harry!"

He knew he was in trouble just from the fact you used his full and proper name, rather than he loving nicknames you used for one another.

"In the kitchen, love." He answered back, swivelling on the barstool chair to face the door you would come through.

When he saw you, you were red in the face and were shaking your head with a sarcastic grin. Harry smiled as he watched you walk over to him, dressed in one of his tour jumpers and a pair of joggers.

You stopped in front of him and he immediately brought you closer, sliding his warm hands underneath the jumper and running them up and down your back.

"What's with the pout, hm?" He asked.

"You know." You challenged him, wanting to see whether he did or did not in fact know.

"If it's about the fact I bought you Galaxy instead of Cadbury's chocolate, again, i've already apologised five times." He groaned.

"It's not about that actually," You shook your head, "But you should know that no amount of apologies will fix that problem."

Harry smiled and shook his head at you. "Then what, baby?"

You turned your phone around and showed him a video of the previous night on stage, singing the new version of ‘Keep Driving’. He nodded his head along to the music and you noticed no sense of regret or guilt to what he had done.

You looked expectantly at him once you’d finished showing it to him.

“Well?” 

“Well what?”

“What the fuck was that? You basically outed the fact that I am a very kinky lady.”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Baby, you’re not a lady if you let me choke you.”

“So you both admit and are okay with how you sang that verse.”

“Uh everyone knew the song was about you anyways, love. It’s not that hard to figure it out, since I’ve only ever been in love with you.” He counter argued, making very good points.

“Well now they’re starting a fan project to sing that line instead of the original version.” You grumbled. “So they’re collectively singing about my boobs and you choking me.”

He didn’t day anything but just smiled.

You pushed away from him but he was quick to grab your hand and pull you even closer back to his chest.

“At the end of the day, I’m only choking you.” 

And at that, he had pretty much won the argument - later proving his last remark to you. 

Since that ‘Keep Driving’ impromptu lyric change, Harry has been clever in building them into the rest of the set. He doesn’t make the lyric changes every night on stage, even if the fans do sing the new version, but sometimes he’ll be spontaneous and create a new one. 

“If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you. Y/Ns the spoon, dip them in honey so I could be sticking to youu.”

There was even one show where he saw you standing with a tub of ice-cream and he came over to sing to you:

“Is that ice-cream edible, ‘Cause my stomach’s not that full. Can I have a little taste? Just a taste?” 

Before he leant down to taste the ice-cream and screamed ‘oh yeah’ afterwards whilst he continued to dance. 

Never was there quite someone who showed their love for their partner, the way that Harry did for you. 

[stabbyfoxandrew]

#14's Past

I finally got over the cringe so here I am with OC stuff again! If you remember, we left off with Fay joining the mob. If you haven't read Introducing #14!, you should probably go do that and meet my little guy before you read this. :)

Solo:

After working for the Butlers (Marcus' family) for a while, Fay garners quite the reputation. He handles pressure well. He's smart and quick on his feet. Though he hasn’t got a driver’s license, he’s a hell of a wheel man. He also does just as he's told and knows how to keep things under his hat. After Big Marcus (Marcus’s dad) insists on teaching him to shoot, they learn he's a crack shot. With such great qualifications, he ends up becoming a gun for hire. A freelance assassin, if you will. 

So he bounces around the country working for a lot of horrible people and becoming one himself. He goes by Ghost on the job— because he’s nineteen and thinks it sounds cool. (Loser. /affectionate.) His occupation gets his name out on various and numerous hit lists. Of course it's never his real name. No. He holds Aaron Farris close to his chest. No one but his ex teammates and the Butlers know him by that name.

Speaking of names, he's got plenty of them. A dozen aliases, carefully crafted by Big Marcus, kept stashed away in a binder. Every page details a different persona. He's got IDs tucked inside as well as reminders of how they act, speak, dress, etc. And the contacts he has for each of them. He's a very organized motherfucker. And he keeps this well guarded. It's his entire life. Or, lives. 

Swapping into a different persona is easy. Sometimes too easy. But it pays well. He can slap on a new accent and change his clothes and it’s like he was never there in the first place.

Familia: 

After a while, Fay hangs up his Ghost persona and starts doing other mob work. In doing so, he ends up earning himself a spot under Tony DiAngelo, eventually becoming his right hand man. Tony grows to think of him as a son, calls him Luka. (“Ya know. That’s what I woulda named my son, if I had one.”) Fay stays in Los Angeles for over a year, working for one of the biggest players on the west coast. 

Until the feds catch up to Tony and raid his building. He and Fay are in his office, in the penthouse when one of his sentinels comes to warn him. Tony tells Fay to take the fire escape and run. Fay doesn’t want to, but Tony tells him he’s ‘too goddamn young’ to get caught up in this. Tony pushes his wallet into Fay’s hands and tells him to get the fuck out or Tony will shoot his ass. (“You wouldn’t.”/ “I’d rather kill you than drag you to prison with me.”) So Fay flees down the fire escape, feeling like a traitor.

With his life ripped out from under him yet again, Fay sees no other alternative. He goes back to what he thinks he’s best at. Being quick and quiet, unknown. He becomes Ghost again and writes letters to his imprisoned father figure. He never gives details, just lets him know he’s alive. Signs them all 'Luka DiAngelo', a boy who never existed.

Settling Down:

By 22, Fay is tired.

He’s killed more people in the past year than he's spoken to. He's got no real friends left, only contacts. No family, only employers. He's been living out of seedy motels and storage units. He's got no stability, no one to depend on. And... He's starting to imagine things, hearing and seeing things that aren’t there. Haha. The pressure must be getting to him... 😅😬

One night after a job goes wrong in North Carolina, turns out killing a senator is pretty tricky, he hauls ass out of there and heads South. He gets as far as Columbia, SC, before running out of gas. That's when he coasts into a hotel parking lot and gets himself a room. He's scared to death and shaking, afraid he's been followed. That they're going to find him. That the man who hired him is going to kill him for failing. After sitting and watching the window all night, he decides he has to get out of this business. He has to. Before he cracks up completely.

After a few days of trying to decide what to do, he hears that Kevin Day is officially playing striker for the Foxes. If he could get a new start after his world fell apart, maybe Fay could do the same. After all, the university is so close. And he’s got money saved up. And it would be fun to watch Kevin play… So he makes a call to Big Marcus, asks him for a favor. Once he receives his new identification papers in the mail, he applies and gets accepted.

Okay! That's all for his past, unless anyone wants to know anything specific. Next post we'll be seeing Fay at PSU, perhaps meeting the Foxes... Also if you have any questions about this loser from my mind, please send me an ask. I will be so happy to talk about him!

fay's friends: @joanofexys @ordei @themundanemudperson @felixvanhuss (if you'd like to be tagged next time, let me know! and if you don't wanna be tagged anymore, let me know.)

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

Oh hello again everyone! Apologies to the three people who are probably interested in this syllabus journey for falling off the face of the earth for the last few months. Had a lot of life changes and travel going on and have not been falling desperately behind in all of the things I have been watching. Now that I am back home for more than two days at a time, I figured I should get back into the swing of things with @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus.. With this post I am officially wrapping up Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley and will get to reap my reward with Lesbians and Gems for Units 5 and 6. As a reminder the films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004), Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the Side (1995)

Today I will be talking about:

Boys on the Side (1995) dir. Herbert Ross

[Run Time: 1:55, I watched it through Plex, Language: English]

Summary: Robin shares a ride in her car with Jane from New York to Los Angeles. They stop at Jane's friend Holly's place in Pittsburgh and take her with them west, making a long stop in Tucson. The three very different women become close friends.

Cast:  - Whoopi Goldberg as Jane - Mary-Louise Parker as Robin - Drew Barrymore as Holly

___

OKAY. Shout out to me for getting through the final film in Heartbreak Alley without crying! 

A trend I have noticed throughout the sad films in this section is that the vast majority of them hold the sadness until the end, which is super fair, but also something I would consider to be rather kind. Maybe it’s just me, but seeing Mysterious Skin so early on in this syllabus really altered my perception of what a difficult movie looked and felt like. The movie that compromised me the most in this unit was far and away Strange Fruit, which sits in the Mysterious Skin camp of being great and also something I will struggle to ever watch again. By comparison, a lot of the Heartbreak Alley films were fine. 

I liked how much Boys on the Side was about the bonds between women and the importance of found family. I love a movie where the premise is: girls do crime and then hit the road together. I like how expertly this film was able to pull back the layers on Robin, until you hit the reveal of her HIV diagnosis. When we first meet her, she’s just a kind of put together, somewhat annoying and anal white woman that wants to hit the road for god knows what reason, and you (and Jane) roll your eyes a little at how often she is sanitizing things. 

And then she vomits, and you can kind of just dismiss it as the allergies she says it is. 

And then Jane leaves the car to go see Holly and Robin uses that moment alone to take some medication, and things start to unravel. She goes to bed really early, she looks haggard the longer they are endurance testing their driving on the road. Something is definitely wrong with her, and BOOM, she’s collapsed and is hospitalized, and you find out she’s HIV positive. 

I liked how distinct all three of the main characters felt, and I liked their friendship with one another. The full blown, silent conversations that can pass between them. I like the little moments in a slice of life, the birthday parties, the dancing, Jane making Robin shout “Cunt” because she feels uncomfortable referring to her vagina. I liked that having HIV was just a detail in her life, and that the movie itself didn’t feel like An AIDS Movie. 

Even though Robin is surrounded by red the whole time, something which I usually associate with AIDS itself because of blood and red ribbons. Robin’s car is red, the lighting in her first hospital room is read, the list of plumbers and landlords she leaves on the fridge at her old apartment in New York is red, they settle in Tuscon, they live in a house made of red clay. But she is never the one that is painted in it. She never wears red, she is not the one painted by it. Jane is the one that bleeds in this film, Jane is the one washed in the red lights of the hospital. But the bigger instances of red: the car, the house contains an entire life inside it. A friendship. Happiness, sadness, anger, joy. You barely even notice that it’s there. 

When Robin’s initial case of pneumonia was resolved, the doctor wasn’t worried about it, and even though Robin did pass by the end of the film, the movie itself wasn’t about her dying of AIDS. It was about the friendship between Jane, Robin, and Holly. At least that’s how it felt for me. 

Definitely my favorite part of this film was that Robin was allowed to be absolutely pissed and to kick Jane out of the house when Jane revealed her status to the man Robin liked. Jane was just trying to be helpful, and the man himself was very chill and totally fine with her status. But Jane didn’t have a right to disclose that information. 

I want to know more about the writers of this film, because I liked that the person in the movie who had AIDS was not the former drug user, or the queer person, but the heterosexual, cisgender, white real estate agent. That it seems to have been a little bit of time since she got her diagnosis, and she’s got a handle on how she is dealing with her grief. She doesn’t pity herself, once Jane and Holly know about it, she’s very casual with her references to the blood tests she needs, etc. 

Even if AIDS is a death sentence still in a movie like this one, I still think the film itself is kind about how they portray it. Robin can still be there for the people she cares about. She can get a very violent situation under control, she can fly across the country and testify to try to help Holly, she brings Jane happiness, music, fun. She doesn’t want a funeral, she wants a big party in the house they shared. She makes it long enough to tell Jane she was loved, to go home and meet Holly’s baby. 

We don’t have to watch her die, and even though the last scene of the film itself is an empty house, the understanding that Robin is dead, we don’t have to see her mother, who already lost her husband and her son, mourn her, we don’t have to watch her die. And we are immediately handed the end credit title cards that are just a compilation of the happy moments between Jane, Holly, and Robin. They don’t make you sit in the emotions there for very long. You get the sad scene of Robin seeing the visage of her dead brother, telling Jane what she wants to happen after she’s passed. And then it is immediately followed with a birth, with happiness and humor. You get the happiness of the baby shower when Holly gets out of prison and then the sadness of a shared song and an empty house, and Jane painting her nails in the car as she continues on her journey. And then you get Robin’s face, smiling away, laughter, chaos, joy at all these little moments in the film. 

A good movie to end this section on, both as a wind down piece and as an appetizer for Unit 5: Lesbians. 

Favorite Moment

I think my favorite moment of the film was when Jane and Robin meet Abe for the first time. Mostly because it is absolutely fucking hilarious to watch the paragraphs of silent, judgemental conversation they are having with each other while simultaneously trying to process that Holly who accidentally murdered a guy is dating a cop. It was truly such an expert portrayal of the psychic connections you forge between close friends. 

Favorite Quote 

“Everyone go potty, we don’t want to have to stop,”

I know what you are thinking. “Wen, why the fuck is that your favorite quote of the film?” It’s because of the context. Picture this, you have entered an apartment that is not your own after seeing through the window that the person who responded to your newspaper ad looking for a road trip buddy is in a fight with a random guy. The apartment you enter is a mess and your road trip buddy and her friend are bleeding at the hands of an abusive, drug dealing, asshole. You have managed to get the situation under control once already through sheer force of reasonable suggestion, only to have it ruined when this woman you do not know hits the abusive fucker over the head with a baseball bat. 

THEN because you don’t want to murder him, but you also don’t want him to catch up to you, you and these two women you barely know, tie this man to a chair with rope and duct tape. You have thought through the timing of how long it will take him to break through the binds and have thought about the noise and found a music disc that will last long enough to give you one hell of a head start. You are standing next to this guy who just beat up two people you barely know, who you have hog tied, and who is bleeding from his temple, and in the flattest, most mother telling her child to do a simple task way, you suggest that everyone uses the potty before they essentially enter a getaway car and escape from the scene of this assault. It was just so fucking funny to me. 

Score 

8/10 

I enjoyed the movie, but I think I wanted a little bit more attention and depth on Jane and less on Holly. I think there were a few too many threads going on, and that some of the set up was unnecessary. But I had a good time. 

And that’s it! I have finished Unit 4, I have so many more films to watch, but I inch ever closer to getting to rewatch Big Eden so onward I charge!

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Favorite Buddie Fics (so far!)

Hi 911 fam!

This has been way, waaaaaaay past overdue. The weewoo show got a hold of me last May and, for some reason, I resisted making a fic rec blog about it. I think I was kind of in disbelief that I, a serial long-term monoshipper, had adopted a second new ship in less than a year 😆 But it seems like I'm a sucker for a good Best Friends to Lovers, Found Family, Trauma Bonding vibe!!

I figured I ought to start off this blog with my favourite fics I've read so far. These are the ones that are, to me, the most memorable, that I've already re-read once (or twice!) in the last few months. I absolutely love them!

I'm going to try and start making recs here a bit more often! In the meantime, if you want more fics I've enjoyed, you can have a look at my ao3 bookmarks here. You can also find me on Twitter and Bluesky @/epicficrecs !

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think about those fics and what are YOUR all time favourites? 😊

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-Season 6, Getting together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet (Sentinels AU, Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 82K | Teen): Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Canon Divergent, Amnesia AU, Post-Season 5 | 44K | Mature): An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting, Stripper Buck | 84K | Explicit): When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 9/? | 69K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

(yes I put a WIP there because it's just that good)

[pavo-ocxllus]

« rewind. / pause. / fast forward. »

"ah, you're back." 

shinobu was the first person you saw as you walked through the doors of fontaine legal firm once again. "i won't lie to you, i was starting to think something had happened when you didn't show up until now—halfway through our lunch break."

"i guess i've been that busy, heh..." you rubbed the nape of your neck sheepishly. 

"be careful not to overwork yourself... i know we had just thrown a rookie like you into our messy work situation on the first day, but let me know if you need some time to yourself."

"don't worry about me!" you grinned. "after what i've been through, i can take anything you got!"

the green-haired, young woman smiled, her violet eyes crinkling a bit. "alright then... go ahead and have your lunch break."

"got it!"

"do you need me to get to your cubicle? it should have no name plate on it yet."

you assured her that you'd be fine, and off you went in search for your little office. ah, to be an official attorney! there was nothing like having a well-deserved break after the few hours that gone by... maybe you'd ought to get a little bit more work done to get ahead.

speak of the devil, you've heard your phone buzz from your pocket. fishing it out, you opened it up, seeing you got few texts.

ah, if it isn't by beloved partner! (well, soon-to-be beloved partner, but i digress.)

unfortunately, the lack of evidence for our cases is holding us down. me and my acquaintance are working to search for some (specifically for the case regarding itto) and i was wondering if you would like to join the two of us? it'd serve as a great learning opportunity! ;)

- heizou

the way he questionably texts like he talks and how he somehow got your number we're pushed to the back of your mind when you suddenly heard yanfei from the distance.

"[name]!" before you could greet her back, she cut you off with your news. "great news! we're making a little bit of progress in tartaglia's case!! not-so-great news, he kind of broke out of prison-"

"WHAT—yanfei, you can't just say that-!"

"it's alright!! the police are already on the case... and if he doesn't show up to his court date, he'll get a bench warrant and be back in custody so we could run his trial! though, it isn't exactly guaranteed if we'll ever find him..."

the young attorney started to mutter herself, walking away from your shocked figure as her words started to become more and more incomprehensible.

you sighed to yourself, before looking at your lunch again. this was definitely a matter that would require a better state of mind... and for that, you need to get some food in your system.

unfortunately, your plans to eat were thwarted once more.

"hey."

upon hearing the familiar voice before digging into  the undoubtedly delicious lunch you've packed, you narrowed your eyes before glancing behind you. 'lo and behold, alhaitham was standing before you.

"you."

"i was about to think you've changed after we graduated from law school, but i suppose i'm incorrect," the way he talked never failed to vex you.

did he even work here? maybe shinobu was correct about overworking yourself and you were reaping the consequences of your actions by having delusions. however, it only took a glimpse of his i.d. badge mirroring your nonexistent one to (unfortunately) confirm that he indeed, worked here.

"what do you want?" you asked, then taking your lunch to set it on your lap and started to unpack it—you weren't about to let him further delay your lunch!

"shinobu still insists for me to work with somebody on my case... and given you're not the lead attorney in any cases as far as i know, i'm considering to push our quarreling aside in the name of professionalism."

that was the most eloquence he carried in his voice when he talked to you... but never mind that! 

↳ agree to work with him. perhaps it was about time to set aside your differences and be mature, working adults for once!

↳ you can't—you're dead set on finding tartaglia. something tells you that you won't find him unless you're there yourself... but that could be just uneasiness.

↳ you weren't planning on going with heizou to go evidence hunting—but that seems to be a way more interesting than whatever alhaitham's doing.

↳ you were on your lunch break for a reason! refuse to work with him—you have some more important things to attend to.

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫? 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞! <𝟑

[dawnthefox24]

*Jack was in the kitchen late at night just holding a beer in his hand as he looked down remembering lashing out at Cole today during the evening not too long ago, just over all stressed out*

Ana: You know, you could apologise to him 

Jack:*jumps a bit and glares at her * I have nothing to apologise for 

Ana:*sits down next to him* Listen you old fool, You know that lashing out at Cassidy isn't good...

Jack:..Its...I just..why....Why does he act like him!? 

Ana: *has her arms crossed * Like Who?

Jack: ...Don't...please don't make me say it...

Ana: You had no problem saying it in his face, that he acts like "Gabriel"

Jack: *looks down and cracks the bottle with his bare hand cutting himself*

Ana:*takes the bottle away quickly and bandages up his hand sighing* Why do you hate him?

Jack: Who Reyes? Ana I don't hate him I- 

Ana:*smacks him up right the head* no you fool Cole! 

Jack:*hissed a bit and used his good hand to rub the spot* I don't hate the kid...

Ana:*glared at him* Oh yeah sure saying "I wish Reyes never took your punkass in he should have puttin you in prison " was a I don't hate him

Jack:*looks down a bit *...I didn't mean too...Look I hate his......

Ana: You hate his mannerisms, his guesters reminds you of Gabriel...He was close to him you know...

Jack:...I know...

Ana: The thing is Jack, Gabriel didn't just train Cole...You did too and so did I...never forget that....I treated Cole as my own son, Gabriel was his father figure and so were you...I saw how proud you were of him he was like a son too you....but now your projecting your emotions on him...

Jack:*looks away from Ana knowing she was right* I..I just...

Ana: Look I'm not trying to lecture you or anything,but you can't change the fact that Cole suffered a lot from us, we "died"  and Overwatch crumbling before his eyes so he fled…I can't blame him for that…

Jack:..I know…

Ana: *sighs and puts her arm arouns his shoulder leaning again him* Yes Cole and Reyes walked together stride by stride…I know when Cole shrugs I see Reyes, every little thing he does Gabriel appears but in the end I still see Cole Cassidy….

Jack:*looks away ashamed*....I know Ana…

Ana: Cole is upset that your chasing a ghost…He broke down when I told him who Reaper was…That boy got overwhelmed that he had a mental break down…It was hard to watch…

Jack:*seemed genuinely shocked by this * But Cole…He never…

Ana: …He hates talking about it…Actually for all I know Jack, Cole will one day have to face him…We just need to be there for him

Jack:*feeling like a piece of shit since all he said to Cole was how much he reminded him of the one who betrayed them* I have been nothing but an ass to him haven't I?

Ana: More than an ass but yes

Jack:*glares at her but sighs* He won't talk to me after what I've been saying….

Ana: *rubs his back*That maybe true but put in the effort to apologise to him.

Jack: How do you do it Ana?

Ana: Do what?

Jack: Comfort people…You know what too say…So how ?

Ana:*looks upset*...I don't do anything Jack…I…I have regrets too…My daughter Fareeha I abandoned her….Even I don't know where to begin…I faked my death as she mourned me…I'm no saint Jack… 

Jack: *sighs* start by telling her the truth…even if she doesn't want to know the truth than explain why…tell her its okay to be mad and she has every right to be…

Ana:*looks at Jack and hugs him but cries silently against him, since she needed to hear that*

Jack:*gets shocked by this and hugs her back* you're not a bad mother…You did what needed to do…

Ana:*pulls away from him and dried her tears away smiling softly a bit* Thank you Jack, I needed that…

Jack: *smiled softly * Any time Amari....

Ana:*sighs softly and looked away*....Jack, where did we go wrong?

Jack:*rubs the back of his neck before taking in a deep breath*...We just got screwed over Ana…That's all…

*outside of the kitchen stood Fareeha and Cole listening to the whole conversation *

Fareeha:*looks up blinking a few times trying not to cry for her mother*

Cole:*looks at Jack and sighs softly hugging himself tightly shaking a bit *

Fareeha and Cole: Shit/Fuck…

[desultory-novice]

Got your reservations, eh? (Feel free to DM or disc if you'd rather not air 'em in public)

Oh no, I'm HAPPY to talk salt about the novels!(1)

(1) Prepare to find out why my nickname is "Salty Dess"

...Now, I probably shouldn't be. I really hate to complain about someone's work when I know that alllll sorts of stuff go into the creative process. Including real human stresses about life and deadlines and having to meet various corporate imposed standards. Writing in accordance with reading levels, brand image, etc, etc. Even with all those piled on top, we're not yet in the dark future where AI writes everything and that should be celebrated! Even an author with flaws/hangups means they're still human and it's human-made art I want to see discussed, studied, and cherished! 

Though...

...Man, just WHAT is up with Takase-sensei's treatment (or lack of??) of Magolor and Kirby's friendship! Why is it like this?? Where is she GOING with this for three, or really, five books now!! (2)

(2) I mostly ignore Dreamy Gear and Kirby Clash in this lengthy rant, but those don't treat Magolor much better.

-

Actually, before I get started, brief tangent:

Probably the thing that gets the most groans from me is Takase-sensei's Meta Knight bias. Back when everyone was speculating if we'd get a Magolor Epilogue novel or not, I was so CONFIDENT it wouldn't happen I would have put real money down on it, because there was no way for her to work Meta Knight in. And Takase-sensei always works Meta Knight in. Usually in a leading role. Lo and behold, the Magolor Epilogue novel didn't happen. Now, I'm not the person to talk bad about having a character bias :cough: Marx :cough: Magolor :cough: so I won't, but I also won't hesitate to note that she is showing a pretty obvious bias there.

-

So, back to Magolor and Kirby. By now, it should be clear I'm someone who thinks really highly of their bond. I've always thought of (the original) RtDL as a tragedy. I just refused to believe that the takeaway of that game was supposed to be "And that's why you should always be cautious around strangers, kids!"

I suppose there was always the turn-around that Magolor seems to be in trouble but it was actually the ship that was in trouble the whole time, but that "rescue the princess" narrative went out the window a year later when Magolor and the Lor are depicted as loyal partners again in Dream Collection. A bond that is staunchly re-affirmed in Star Allies.

If the point is not to save the Lor from Magolor, what is?

Now, I also think that RtDL DX's many (subtle) changes to the narrative were informed by a desire to grow Magolor's character after a decade of fan speculation and brand growth. And I think he was consciously MADE into more of a tragic figure as a result.

...True Arena...

But there always had to be something to inform that growth. And even in the original, he has that "Let's always stay friends!" line.

So, RtDL gets adapted in book form and Takase-sensei seems to do her darndest to like... write Magolor out of his own story? Which becomes especially weird when you take into account the Labyrinth novel, where Magolor is a villain all the way through.

Now, unlike most other Magolor fans, I actually kind of like that book. I thought the idea that everyone calls Magolor out on being sus in the beginning was pretty cute coming so soon after his villainous turn.

I think the joke where he uses the mirror to become all powerful but just becomes a giant, funny-looking squeaky toy is hilarious. I think the fact that Takase-sensei highlights that Magolor does.not.know. the different between fighting Kirby and playing with him is probably the smartest thing she's ever written about him.

It is, in fact, something that informs my own characterization of Magolor. At least, the implication that he's been too alone for too long to know how to socialize with people properly.

And there's his breakdown in the end that it's not fair that he lost because he's never had any friends! (Marx: "......") The fact that this appeal causes Kirby to spare him and then he runs away and steals Kirby's cake was also cute in a Saturday morning cartoon freeze-frame ending.

It wasn't an amazing novel (what I really dislike in it is how Takase-sensei characterized Claycia. What the HECK was up with that? She's just...crazy and mean about art to the point that she leaves her girlfriend best friend in tears randomly every other week, I guess?) but it was fine on it's own...

"If only the story ended there..." to quote Smash Bros (EU)

So yeah, Starcutter and the Lying Wizard once again gives Magolor like one or two moments of interesting pathos, generally involving the Lor. But then Takase-sensei refuses to let Magolor build any bonds with the mains or let the mains bond with him.

Nope, we have to spend an unnecessary amount of time in Raisin Ruins with Meta Knight explaining to Kirby about how dangerous that mysterious new power might be when, oops, it never actually turns out to be dangerous! 'If you put the gun on the mantlepiece in act 1, someone has to fire it in act 2' is one of THE oldest pieces of writing advice in the known universe...!!!

And it's not just the wasted time on red herrings. (Or skipping Egg Engines....) It's the the whole concept of her leaving Kirby and Magolor becoming friends on the table that I just.don't.get.

If your heroes have no emotional stakes involved in fighting the big bad, that's... bad. Everyone knows one of Magolor's keywords is "betrayal." He "betrays" Kirby and the others. But not in the novel. They barely know him. He used them, but he didn't betray their trust or their friendship. Because he didn't HAVE either of those things to begin with. (Anyone remember the scene where Magolor calls the others "friends" and NO ONE responds to him? Because I do.)

Heck, I'd go so far as to say that the Lying Wizard barely LIED to them there. (Especially if you buy into him possibly being a secret descendant of the Ancients, born off-world.)

His offer to have Kirby be his lackey comes so out of nowhere. His offer to Chilly to rule the galaxy at his side in the manga, despite being based on a joke relationship, came off as so painfully sincere there that there are dedicated MagoChilly fans to this day!

And Kirby doesn't engage with him during the fight either. He responds to the things Magolor says with this "eener-neener nuh-uh" tone that is just... weird. I think most people have noted that Kirby comes off a little more mature in the novels than in other media. Still a "youth" by definition, but he talks and is capable of deep thoughts. But in the fight with Traitor Magolor, Kirby almost slips back into being an anime-esque infant. No thinking, no willingness to engage or even look at what he's fighting. (His one comment about the eye is almost embarrassing given the lack of everything till then.)

...Oh and DO NOT get me started on the fact that Takase-sensei specifically make the gang fight Magolor Soul and then changes his last words so it is now a meaningless groan of defeat?! I was SO upset at that choice (why not stick with his regular form in that case) but I told myself, hey... it's not like we know with definitive proof what Magolor Soul is actually saying...

...

Oh, NEVER MIND, WE DO. And we know via the end-of-book text that Takase-sensei had access to everything she would have needed to write an informed Magolor Soul battle.

No. For whatever reason, making Magolor unrepentant in Labyrinth, making Kirby disinterested in the person who would later go on to say (... in the remake) that he hoped to be Kirby's most reliable friend in this or ANY dimension, and, oh, lest we forget...

There's the Samurai Kirby novel...

So, I mentioned above that I knew there wouldn't be a Magolor Epilogue novel. But I had to admit I was a little surprised we'd get an adaptation of the Samurai Kirby game to go along with the release of RtDL DX. It felt like an odd choice at the time.

Slightly less so once you know the plot so, okay... Here's what's weird about Samurai Kirby. And I'll try to keep it short and vague but talking about Magolor's role in it necessitates SPOILERS.

...

Magolor is the bad guy. Again. Yes. And he makes a passing attempt at getting Kirby to be friends with him this time too and Kirby once again refuses to engage with him and then, Magolor says to himself that he could never imagine being friends with Kirby.

...

I just want to point out once more that this novel came out two weeks after RtDL DX. We go straight from a game with Magolor using his vast magic powers to help Kirby out of pits and bring him food at regular intervals, a Magolor who, at his worst, begs Kirby for help while Kirby's own inner voice encourages him to "...save a new friend" and also a Magolor fighting through a hell-parallel to get back to "...his friends." And just...

Why would you write that, Takase-sensei?! Why would you write that book NOW?

And now we come to the present. And I've gone from upset to...mildly curious. Because the most interesting things about Magolor in the Samurai Kirby novel is that A) He says he gets the feeling maybe he and Kirby knew each other in another life and B) His goal is to get to a place that is OBVIOUSLY Halcandra. It's not written in Katakana but the place name and the methods Magolor wants to use to get there make it really, really obvious. It's either Halcandra or the Samurai Kirby equivalent. Except that I think he really IS trying to get to THE canon Halcandra.

DX has now canonized Magolor as "the dimensional traveler." So it's not strange at all if these curious AU worlds and events start to occur around him/because of him.

While I'm currently pretty apathy for the way Takase-sensei writes Kirby and Magolor's friendship currently, I can't help but wonder if this dimension stuff isn't all building up to something...?

At the very least, canon Magolor built Magoland for Kirby and friends, so either this novel will HAVE to acknowledge that or...no one will mention that and we'll have another book where Magolor is the villain (...because come on, he's probably going to behind everything in this book too. After being consistently sus through all his novel appearances, it would be weird and jarring if he were completely innocent this time) and it'll end with him and Kirby coming to an "agree to disagree" relationship.

Or maybe this time, things will be different and it will end with Novel Kirby and Novel Magolor actually becoming friends in a way that mimics their game selves.

I really can't say for sure. But those...

:pauses to take a breath:

...are my reservations.

-

Brief Bonus: So, before you file everything I wrote up above as the ramblings of a crazy aspie, I am not the only one who has taken notice of Novel Kirby + Novel Magolor's non-friendship.

A couple of fanartists I follow on Twitter have even begun drawing humorous comics about things like "...threatening Magolor with Novel Kirby if he doesn't behave and it working" or "...Novel Magolor complaining to Game Magolor that he just can't get Kirby to like him." So, the vast difference in the treatment of their friendship (or lack of one) is something others have taken note of.

I'm not going to say anything like "I expect this novel to let me down too" in regards to Magolor. Nothing of the sort, really! I've come to terms with what the novel is, and I mean it that I'm curious if these Novel Magolors who continually fail to make a connection with Kirby will build up to something. Maybe something truly fascinating!

And hey, in lieu of (ever) having Marx appear, I can enjoy a villainous Magolor just in the meantime. (But seeing other people make fun of "Novel Magolor" definitely helped take the sting out of it.)

Phew...

I didn't realize I had as much to say about that as I did, but apparently, it was something I needed to get off my chest!

-

...Before everyone goes, just because I don't know when I'll next have leisure to rant about novel-verse problems but...

I want to say that I'm also a little :side-eye: about Takase-sensei having Meta Knight give us "word of god" evidence in the novel that the Master Crown wasn't evil, it was just Magolor's OWN inner wickedness that made it that way when A) even Star Allies casts aspersions on that theory and B) the remake brings out some credible evidence for the theory that the Master Crown is, in fact, AMAZINGLY EVIL. There is even reason to believe it was brainwashing Magolor almost from day one!

...But that's a story for another essay.

[misslavenderlady]

Marko is MOST Excellent💚

Marko/Female!Reader

Summary: Now that all your relationships with the other Lost Boys have gone all the way, it's finally Marko's turn to get some love. He's not as confident as his friends, so it's up to you to show him how attractive he truly is~

This is in the universe of the fic "It's Just a Movie" by @theyreonlynoodlesmike, so you should definitely read that first (this takes place at the end of Chapter 14)! Please read that fic first and then my first gift fic ("He's Just an Actor") before reading this.

WARNINGS: Nsfw/Smut/18+ Readers Only, First Date, Movie References, Confidence Issues, Seduction, Flirting, Public Sex, Beach Sex, Teasing, Body Worship, Public Nudity, Handjob, Blowjob, Vaginal Sex, Riding, Nipple play, Creampie, Aftercare

“Feel like Chinese tonight?”

It was such a relief having Marko act like himself again. After the rather emotional heart-to-heart the two of you had the other day about your relationships with each of the Lost Boys, Marko seemed to be a lot more comfortable around you. Now that everything was cleared up, you were more than happy to accept his offer to take you on a date.

The two of you wanted a fun night out together, and every second with him made you incredibly happy. When he drove you to the boardwalk on his motorcycle, you held on a little tighter than usual, feeling perfectly safe with him. When the two of you walked side by side, you were excited to hold his gloved hand. When you found a decent table inside your favorite Chinese restaurant, he was polite enough to hold your chair open for you.

There was quite a change in the atmosphere around him. You found there wasn’t any uncertainty about what would happen or what problems you’d potentially face as a temporary visitor of this world. It was just you and Marko enjoying yourselves on a beautiful night in Santa Carla.

“So go back for a second,” the curly-haired vampire said in between bites of lo mein. “What’s the deal with her name?”

“Okay, so the joke is that her name is so bat-shit insane and stupid that people just say random words beginning with the letter ‘R’, and everyone automatically knows who you’re talking about,” you explained, heavily invested in your conversation. “Like, I could say ‘oh yeah, her husband and their daughter, Rutabaga’ and people will just lose their shit over it. The joke pretty much writes itself”

Marko shook his head in disbelief, chuckling in amusement at the stories you told. Seeing him so relaxed with you made your heart skip a beat. He really was dreamy.

“Damn, your time period has some weird-ass literature”

“Believe me, I could tell you plenty of stories about the stuff I’ve read”

While the two of you giggled over your dinner, you felt a tug towards Marko. You always thought he was incredibly handsome, and now getting to be this close with him in a rather romantic environment made him seem even more attractive. His smile lit up the room and his hazel eyes shined with joy. You didn’t think before leaning in closer to try and kiss him.

Key word: try. You did not succeed.

To your dismay, Marko pulled back from your advancement. Confused, you tried to read his expression and figure out what was wrong. He didn’t seem disgusted or angry with you, but rather, he was surprised. As if he had no idea you were going to do that, and it caught him off guard. It hurt that he moved away, but you were more concerned about how he was feeling.

Did you come on too strong?

Marko seemed to move on quickly, laughing playfully, before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. Ultimately, you decided not to think too much about it, and moved on to a new conversation subject.

Once your dinner was finished, you proposed the idea of going for a walk down the beach. Not only was he interested in doing that, but he also recommended a special spot that you would probably find familiar. When you hopped onto the back of his bike to head that way, you wondered what he possibly meant by that.

After a few minutes of speeding down the Santa Carla roads, you managed to figure out what he was talking about; the place on the beach he had in mind just so happened to be where the surf nazis would get slaughtered a few months from now.

The lone tree that stretched over the sandy area was a lot more massive than you realized. You could see now how five vampires could easily hide away in the branches undetected. While Marko found a spot to put his motorcycle, you remained mesmerized by the tree, knowing that was where Michael would watch the Lost Boys partake in their gruesome hunt.

You hadn’t realized how long you were staring at it before Marko gave you a gentle nudge to snap you out of your daze.

“It’s okay. Nothing like that is gonna happen tonight,” he assured you, referring to the very incident you were thinking about. You shook your head to clear out those thoughts and put your focus back on your date. Marko held out his hand for you to take, and you were more than happy to accept it. Being with him put your mind at ease.

There was no bonfire this time around, meaning all you two had for light as you walked was the moon and stars above you. The lack of proper sight heightened your sense of hearing as the sound of the nearby ocean waves crashing filled your ears. You held on tight to Marko’s hand as you walked through the sand, putting all your trust in him to show you the way and keep you safe.

It was all so strangely…peaceful. You knew Marko was dangerous. After seeing the movie several times, the point should have gotten to you loud and clear. You had watched him snap someone’s neck like a twig and happily drink the blood that he and the others harvested. He was a killer, and that would never change, even with you there as a positive influence.

And yet, you felt nothing less than protected by him.

You slipped away from his grasp in order to wrap your hands around his arm, gently squeezing him through the fabric of his patchwork jacket. Even through the material, you could feel his muscles underneath.

To your dismay, Marko pulled back from your advances yet again. He jolted from your touch as if you had shocked him. A nervous giggle came from him as he slipped his arm away. This really wasn’t like him. Ever since you had met them, the Lost Boys were incredibly touchy-feely with you, always having an arm around you or a hand squeezing some part of you. This boy had let you play with his hair while he had his head in your lap, and now he was getting shy from the smallest of gestures.

“I’m sorry, Marko,” you apologized, your stomach twisting from the nerves you felt. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If I’m moving too fast, you can let me know...”

The look on Marko’s face immediately shifted from bashfulness to worry as he realized how he messed up the moment with you.

“No no! Don’t be sorry! It’s…um…my fault…” he said, clearly feeling sheepish. “Look, I gotta be honest with you…ever since you started…messing around with the others, I guess I’ve just…been feeling a little insecure..”

That was certainly not what you were expecting to hear. Marko was still a bit of a mystery to you, but he never really came off as someone with insecurities. Then again, if one was good enough at hiding them, then nobody would truly suspect anything was wrong. You raised an eyebrow and moved closer, trying to be careful with his feelings now.

“Insecure? Marko, sweetie, what’s making you feel that way?”

The vampire scratched the back of his head and lightly kicked a foot through the sand below. Whether he was struggling to find the right words to say or he was feeling too embarrassed to say them at all, you weren’t entirely certain. If you were going to include Marko in this polycule you had going on with the others, then you wanted him to feel comfortable in sharing his thoughts with you.

“I was worried about disappointing you…y’know cause…I get that I’m not as desirable as the others”

Hold up. Hold the FUCK up. You were certain you did not hear this man correctly.

“I beg your pardon??” you questioned. To your shock, Marko looked at you like you were the one not making sense.

“Isn’t it obvious? I really don’t stand out with the boys. David’s the charismatic one of us and Paul and Dwayne get hit on practically every night,” he explained. “I don’t really get attention like they do because I’m not as good-looking. I hate to say it, but that Frog kid kinda said it best when he called me the ‘little one’. I just…don’t stick out…”

You were positively flabbergasted. Thoughts of confusion and disbelief were running so fast through your mind that you were sure smoke would start coming out of your ears. Marko, of all people, was insecure about his attractiveness??

“Marko. Baby, Sweetheart, Darling. I know you don’t have a reflection and you can’t see what I see, but there’s no damn way people could POSSIBLY think you’re less good-looking than the others!”

Your determination to put some sense into his head was only confusing him more. It was like this was the first time someone had truly told him things like this. You knew his friends at the very least complimented him. After all, David himself said that he knew the other Lost Boys were very handsome. But if this was the first time someone outside the friend group told him this, then you were going to have to put in some serious work to make up for the lack of attention he received.

“I mean…I dunno…look, I get that you said that in your world our actors are all considered handsome…but here…I just don’t get that much attention…”

Oh, you were definitely going to do something about this.

Before Marko could continue on his tangent, you firmly grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him over to the tree. He stumbled over the dirt and sand as he tried to keep up with you, caught off guard by your sudden movement.

“Whoa! What’re you do-”

You were quick to stop any more confusion and doubt by pinning him with his back against the massive tree before pressing your lips to his own. Each one of your boys was unique in the way they kissed, and now you could say you got to experience that first hand. Marko was certainly caught off guard, but soon was melting into you as he kissed you back. His legs buckled and his arms wrapped around your body to hold your torso.

It reminded you to tell him later about the meaning of the word “touch-starved”.

When you broke away, he looked as if he were in a daze, completely spellbound and bewildered by how passionate you were with him. The way he looked under the moonlight was making your heart pound faster and faster.

“Marko,” you said. “Do you know what people have said about your actor where I come from?”

He shook his head. A sly smile spread across your face as it dawned on you that you could tell him plenty of things to boost his confidence. With a new, seductive tone in your voice, you pushed yourself up to his chest in order to get as close as you could.

“They say he’s incredibly handsome. Several people, regardless of gender and sexuality, like him. Your actor’s been compared to a Greek statue so many times, I couldn’t even begin to count,” you whispered, your fingers moving to caress his cheek. His usually cool skin was much warmer now, no doubt from how he was blushing from your attention. You replaced your hand with your lips, softly kissing the spot.

“That means you are seen that way too. You have gorgeous, blond curls, dreamy eyes, and a fantastic bone structure”

Being a bit playful, you replaced your kiss with a teasing, kitten lick against his cheek. The moan that came out of his mouth when you did so was too adorable. It only made you want to give him more.

“And don’t even get me started on this incredible body of yours~”

You traced your fingers over his collarbone and down the crease of his chest. The white tank top he had under his jacket certainly didn’t hide any of his features, and you were more than happy to enjoy them all. Marko’s breath was shaky as you caressed his chest and abs before stopping just above the buttons on his leather chaps.

“Goddamn, are all the girls from your world this bold?” he chuckled, still a little breathless from the way you were touching him. You were enjoying seeing him flustered a little too much.

“You’d be surprised,” you said in between kisses against his cheek and jaw. That smile on his face just made you want to give him more and more attention. “Of course, I can really show you how bold I can be if you want~”

Your fingers were toying at the buttons more, teasing him with what you could really do to him. He eagerly nodded, clearly wanting to see what you could do.

“Y-Yeah, I’d really like that…~”

Not a second was wasted on your end as you rapidly undid the buttons and zipped his jeans open. You brought Marko back for another kiss while slipping your hand into his pants. The grin on your face only got bigger when you found what you were looking for.

“Fuck, you are definitely not the ‘little one’, Marko,” you purred in between smooches.

“Oh my god, shut up,” he snickered. It felt good seeing him enjoying your attention.

“If you insist~”

Before he could even think to ask what you meant by that, you were getting down on your knees, and trailing your kisses down his toned body while helping pull his hard cock out. Thanks to your date with David you weren’t as shy about doing this in a public place, especially if this part of the beach was completely quiet.

Once his erection was out and free from the leather and denim, you started stroking the length, mouth practically watering at the sight. Marko let his head fall back against the tree, relaxing from the pace of your hand. His cock was practically twitching in your grasp, and it only made you want to please him even more.

You did just that, sticking out your tongue to slowly lick the tip as you continued to jerk his cock. Marko gripped the wood behind him tightly with one hand and placed the other on top of your head, no doubt anxious to coax you into doing more.

“Holy shit, you feel good~” he sighed, enjoying himself while you began sucking the tip. You had no idea when the last time was that someone did this for him, but this was the perfect night to make up for the lost time.

You opened your mouth nice and wide, pushing yourself down over each inch of his dick. If you were going to treat Marko right, you were going to make certain he’d feel as much of you as possible. Your hands massaged his legs as you deep-throated him, your mouth perfectly wet and warm for him to enjoy. He was shivering so much from the stimulation.

“F-FUCK!! Oohh God, th-that’s amazing..!” he whined, his fingers now gripping your hair tightly. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Just by being your perfect self, Marko, you thought to yourself. As much as you wanted to say that out loud, your mouth was stuffed to the brim as you sucked him off. It was rather lewd to think, but you wondered if this would be on his mind when he and the others took Michael hunting later on in the summertime. Hell, if he told the others then perhaps they would think about it too. It was kind of a rush.

While you bobbed your head up and down, you helped tug his pants down further to allow him more comfort. If you had claws and super-powered strength like the others you would have loved to rip his clothes off. Be sexy and wild to match their energy.

Instead, you simply moved your hands to touch his body more. One hand caressed his exposed, smooth thigh while the other gently massaged his balls for some added pleasure. He seemed to be enjoying your motions because his hips were moving at a steady pace, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth.

Looking up at him gave you the perfect sight to enjoy as you took care of him. Marko truly was a gorgeous man. You always thought that when you watched the movie but seeing him in a state of ecstasy made him even more desirable in your eyes. All you wanted to do was let him know just what you thought of him.

“Oooh Marko, look at you,” you sighed after releasing him from your mouth. He whimpered at first from the loss, but soon got back in the motion when you started jerking his cock again. He seemed extra flustered from the way you were looking up at him. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. The things I’d do to you. Or the things I’d let you do to me”

That really put a dopey smile on his face. He seemed so happy with the attention you gave him. Poor thing had probably gone too long without some tender loving care. That was going to change from now on.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing to me, girl,” he said with a breathy laugh. “I’m so goddamn lucky getting a babe like you”

“Tell me, Marko, am I….a bodacious babe?”

In between his pleasured moans, Marko let out a fit of giggles. Clearly, he hadn’t forgotten all the dated (or rather, modern in this world) slang from the Bill & Ted movies you mentioned. He shook his head and brought his hand up to his lips to chew on his thumb nail like you’d seen him do many times.

“Oh is that the kinda dirty talk you want? Just full-on Californian stoner slang?”

“I’ll get naked for you if you do~”

Marko’s eyes widened and his eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn’t expected you to actually go for that idea. You made your point even more when you held his cock tighter in your grasp, picking up the pace of your motions. If you were going to keep playing with him like this, he’d be more than happy to play into your desires.

“You are…a most bodacious babe. A historical babe, even,” Marko said. He mimicked Bill’s voice well but considering they were played by the same actor, that didn’t come off as too much of a surprise. Still, it put a smile on your face, and seeing you happy made the vampire happy too.

“C’mere, handsome~”

You released his cock from your hold in order to grab the bottom of his shirt and pull him downward. He eagerly brought his lips to yours again, kissing you with a newfound fire while the two of you hurriedly shrugged off all your pieces of clothing. You’d worry about brushing off the dirt from the ground later. You two just needed each other at that moment~

“You wanna know something?” you asked, nearly out of breath from the number of kisses you traded. “In the movie, Bill and Ted both end up with princesses from another period in time. Clearly talking like that gets you somewhere with ladies~”

Marko’s lips curled up into a smile as he moved his head down to nibble on your neck. He was sitting in the grass around the tree with his back still up against the bark. His hands caressed your naked body as he hoisted you onto his lap. Even if he was the shortest vampire in the gang, he was just as strong as the others.

“Does that make you my princess?” he purred in your ear. His hands had slipped upward from your hips to your sides and over your breasts. A shaky sigh escaped your lips as he massaged the flesh, toying with your nipples to get even more noise out of you.

“Ooooh M-Marko~” you whined. “I’d love to be your princess”

You could feel his erection sliding against your exposed cunt. After being so focused on his own pleasure you hadn’t realized until then that you were absolutely soaked for him. It was hard not to be so turned on with how touched every part of your body. After learning about the insecure feelings he had prior to this date, you were going to really show him how he made you feel.

“Mmm, I want you inside me. You need to know how much I want you, Marko~”

You lifted your hips upward and brought them right back down once you had his cock positioned properly. Oh, how he stretched you out so nicely. As the two of you moaned out loud in pleasure, you thought about how you’d never get tired of your vampire lovers and their impressive sizes.

As your pussy clenched and adjusted to Marko’s cock you found yourself grabbing at his long curls again, gripping tightly out of fear of being apart from him for even a second. The vampire seemed to have the same feeling because he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close to his chest, groaning in your ear from how much warmth he felt. 

“Fuck…your pussy is....most excellent, princess~”

You snorted at that, the laughter quickly following as you tried to comprehend what he just said while currently inside you. Out of all the things your boys had said while fucking you, that certainly put a smile on your face the quickest. 

“Oh my God, you’re such a dork,” you teased him, still feeling giggly while you began to move your hips. You could feel his cock twitching inside your cunt, loving how amazing it felt while you were completely filled up. 

“Awww c’mon, pretty princess, I thought babes like you loved a guy with a sense of humor,” Marko joked, rubbing your back while enjoying your body. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world, a lot more confident thanks to a beauty like you boosting his ego.

Despite how you two goofed around with one another, you were still feeling the haziness of lust seep into your mind. Marko’s body was absolutely perfect and it was all yours to enjoy. You slowly dragged your fingers over his bare chest again, savoring every line of his muscles. The giggles you had were being taken over by moans and sighs, your voice reacting to the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot deep inside. 

He must have felt the same way as you because he held you tighter, guiding your willing body to move together with his own.

The look in his eyes was nothing short of desire. He viewed you like you were the most beautiful person of all time, and that he wanted to spend all night showing you how much he wanted you. You smiled gently back at him, giving him a small kiss before speaking again.

“Just be yourself and I’ll love this even more, Marko~” you whispered.

Your motions were gradually building into a faster pace, his cock moving perfectly inside your aching pussy. Words were getting increasingly difficult to form, as any time you tried to speak, all that came out were noises of pure pleasure. Marko didn’t seem to mind this. The message was heard loud and clear.

“Oooh princess…my beautiful, sweet princess~” he sighed. “Fuck, I…I really owe you one…m-making me feel better about myself…taking c-care of me…you’re a real dream, y’know that..?”

God, for a bunch of blood-thirsty monsters, these boys sure knew how to make you swoon with their words. Maybe it was the trust you had built after being in this world with them that made you feel so good. They all really did like you, and had their own unique ways of showing it. You couldn’t believe that Marko had been so worried about this before. 

Every second you made love with him was filling your heart with joy.

“Marko, I…mmmh…fuck, I really really like you, sweetie~” you finally said with a smile, nuzzling against him while he held you. “I-I can’t thank you…enough for…e-everything. Don’t be scared anymore about me leaving, okay? I’m not…aah…going anywhere”

You surprised yourself with how open and raw you were being with your emotions right now. Deep down, Marko was still worried about you disappearing from this world without any warning, but that didn’t matter right now. He’d accept all the good things now. The kisses, the dates, and definitely the sex. All he wanted was to enjoy you.

“Good. Because I gotta help you cum around my cock, babe~” he said, his soft smile shifting into a devilish smirk. He grabbed at your hips, digging his fingers in as he fucked you faster on his lap.

With your fingers gripping his hair even tighter now, you could properly hang on as he claimed you for his own. Your voice sang such beautiful noises of pleasure, echoing into the empty night and unheard by anyone but Marko. Your hot, wet cunt throbbed around his thick cock, the sounds of hard slaps coming from your bodies working together. It was like you were on a high from this kind of pleasure.

That all-too-familiar sensation of ecstasy was starting to consume you. It was rising over you like a wave in the ocean, ready to crash down and drown you at any second. All you could do was hold on for dear life and embrace what was to come.

“Marko! Oooh fuck me, Marko! I wanna cum! I need to cum! P-Please~!”

“Let yourself have it, princess~” he growled, maintaining his thorough pace as he matched your closeness. He was aching to fill you up. “It’ll be… most outstanding~”

You would have been giggling at that if your mouth wasn’t currently forming such pathetic, lustful moans as you finally got the release you needed so badly. Hit after hit after hit of pleasure took over your body, numbing you to everything else around you. You shivered in Marko’s arms, letting it all happen while he came too. His low moans were music to your ears. His cum filled you nice and deep, warming you up from the inside. 

It was all so perfect, and it was just for you to enjoy together.

“Oooh God, Marko~” you sighed when it was all over. Your body gave out, slumping against the vampire’s frame as tiredness took over. He laughed in delight at your behavior, but still held you close to him while still leaning against the tree. 

“Atta girl. Just relax, baby. You earned it.”

That you could definitely do. Marko was kind enough to pull himself out of you and adjust your position so that you could lay down with your head against his chest. It was quite relaxing, just being naked in his arms, with nothing but the moon and ocean for your atmosphere. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed your back and pressed kisses to your forehead. 

There was just one thing you wanted to make this date end perfectly. 

You moved your head upward to meet Marko’s gaze. He seemed confused by the eager grin on your face. 

“Hey, Marko?”

“Yeah…?” he asked, not sure where you were going with this.

“Can we do the line again?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes in amusement, immediately knowing what you were talking about. It was the famous line you had made him quote back when you told the boys stories of their actors. 

“Seriously?”

“Yes, please!” 

The blond chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Still, if it made you happy he would do it. He held one hand over his chest and raised the other one away from his body before saying the thing you wanted most.

“Be excellent to each other”

Your grin was wider than ever. Seeing Marko recreate that iconic line from Bill & Ted truly made you happier than ever. Everything you loved and held dear was coming true in this world, and you wanted to savor it as much as possible. You moved up from his chest in order to properly mirror his pose.

“Party on, dudes!”

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles afterward, unable to contain your joy around one another. Marko pulled you back in for another kiss in between your moments of laughter. It made you grateful for how this date went tonight.

Tag List: @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @herthinkersmanana @checkitoutmikey @riz-coolgirl @luv4fandoms @scarlet-fangs

[joehawke]

Steddie modern day AU

Nurse Steve Harrington x single dad Eddie Munson. (I’m not a doctor so this isn’t accurate at all okay!)

Something something Pediatric Nurse Steve Harrington meets one single father Eddie Munson after Eddie comes into the children’s unit ER obviously very distraught and panicky with a little girl laying across his chest. Steve is the one to meet Eddie immediately as he tries to calm the young man down.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he tries to address any injuries on Eddie or his little girl.

“I don’t know. My daughter - she’s had a little cold for a few days now, nothing crazy, but her fever spiked 104 tonight. I don’t know what’s wrong” Eddie frantically pants out, and Steve grabs the nearest gurney and gently takes the little girl out of Eddie’s arms.

“What’s her name?” Steve asks, laying her across the leather material as he pushes them into one of the nearest empty exam rooms.

“Stella” Eddie says. “Short for Stellaluna” and Steve can’t help but smile at that.

“Big Janell Canon fan are we?” Steve asks as he continues to assess the little gi- Stella. As he continues to assess Stella. Eddie just looks up at Steve, big doe eyes on full display and Steve gets it, he does, this can be scary.

“No reason to be worried, we’ll figure out what’s wrong. I’m sure it’s nothing, genuinely. The flu is going around all the schools right now” Steve says, trying to calm Eddie’s nerves, and in any other case Eddie would blush under the sweetness, but right now all he can focus on is his little girl attached to all the IV’s and machines the nurse is currently hooking her up to.

“Hi Stella. I’m Steve, I’ll be your nurse. I have to do a few quick tests do you think you can help me?” Steve asks quietly to Stella, as if Eddie wasn’t even in the room. Eddie watches as Stella just nods weakly.

“Alright miss Stella. You see this little frog?” Steve asks as he produces a little frog carabiner light from his pocket. Stella nods, eye’s focused on the plastic in his hands. “This is Todd. He’s gonna shine a bright light into your eyes so we can check to make sure everything is working the way it should, okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie wants to cry at how gentle Steve is being with Stella, or maybe he wants to cry because his little girl is sitting in a hospital bed, he’s not sure either way. Stella nods once again weakly, and Steve begins to assess, telling her to look up and down, and left and right. Steve puts the little frog up to his ear as if it were telling him a secret, nodding his head along with it as if he were retaining every little word.

“Todd says everything looks good miss Stella!” Steve cries, a big smile on his face as he shoves the frog back into his pocket, before reaching for the blue stethoscope hanging idly around his neck. He puts the pieces in his ear before grabbing the small metal circle that hangs at the end (and don’t ask Eddie how it works, because yeah he may know what it is but how it works? He couldn’t tell you).

“Alright, I’m gonna put this across your heart and across your back and it’s gonna be a little cold at first, but I promise it won’t be bad.” Steve says, and he waits for Stella’s confirmation to begin. Eddie wants to cry at how exhausted his baby looks, taking in her weak movements and the circles around her eyes. She’s not the bright little ball of sunshine she normally is and Eddie’s heart aches.

Once Steve finishes listening to her heart, he moves to her back, sliding the metal diaphragm up her back. “Alright love, let’s hear your biggest breath okay?” Steve says, and he smiles when Stella does just that. “One more.”

Steve assesses a few more things, before taking her temperature and stats and writing them down on her chart. He gets Stella changed into a children’s gown, before tucking her into another gurney, this one wrapped in white plasticky sheets. He gives her one last smile before turning to Eddie, who stares back with wide concerned eyes and many many questions.

“It looks like we were right and it’s just the flu Mr -“

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie” Eddie supplies, embarrassed it took him this long to introduce himself.

“Eddie. Right. Well all her vitals are all good, nothing seems to be wrong. I’m going to have her moved up to the children’s unit so we can have one of our pediatric doctors take a better look just in case I missed a few things, but overall? You have nothing to worry about.” Steve tells Eddie, and Eddie wants to cry or laugh or hug Steve, he doesn’t know but he’s never felt so relieved.

“I know this kind of thing can be scary, but rest assured it’s normal. She’s a kid, kids can be gross whether they try to or not and they can catch germs whether they try to or not. You did the right thing bringing her here, she’ll be okay” Steve reassures, must’ve sensed the still panic that covers Eddie.

“Right. Okay.” Eddie sighs, unclenching his hands he hadn’t even realized were clenched to begin with.

“We’re going to keep her on the drip so she stays hydrated, and we’ll check her vitals every few hours, but if everything goes according to plan you guys should be out of her in the morning” Steve says, clutching Stella’s chart close to his chest.

“Thank you, Steve. Seriously” Eddie says, reaching out to shake Steve’s hand, and if Eddie misses the blush that creeps its way across Steve’s cheeks -well he’s got another few hours to come across it again.

[omegaremix]

Cold Cave / Black Marble / Choir Boy @ Warsaw, N.Y.C.; June 14, 2018.

Hello, Warsaw. We meet again. It’s been seven months since I first visited the Polish powerhouse on Driggs Avenue in Greenpoint, one of my all-time favorite places to visit. That was when I attended Hospital Productions 20th Anniversary showcase and it became an unforgettable experience. This time, it’s a shorter affair featuring only three acts: Choir Boy, Black Marble, and headliner Cold Cave. The ritual is the same as last time and every time. Wait on the platform, take the train, hop on the subway line, and arrive in the neighborhood none more blacker where you stand against the venue’s wall. It was all clear out. Thursday’s warm air and blue skies was not symbolic of the night’s wicked-black climax. I called my sis- to tell her how euphoric I was feeling, experiencing these days and moments I normally don’t but should more often. For every time I waited entry at Warsaw, there was always someone from Stony Brook who I would randomly spot. Last time it was WUSB’s Cornflower zipping past on his bike. Now it’s Marcel, my queer friend from The Stony Brook Press whom I took a quick two seconds to be sure it was him. I was right. We hugged each other and then my anxiety shot up because I haven’t seen him since The Press’ 35th and the venue was ready to open its’ doors. He had to leave anyway for Ru Paul’s Drag Race, the diet of queer champions, but promised him we’d resume catching up down the road.

The line now entered Warsaw. Unlike Hospital’s instant get-go, we waited almost an hour for the opening act to go. Salt Lake City’s Choir Boy was first up, self-proclaimed Mormons (kidding or not) currently signed to Dais Records. They’re a spot-on bullseye of Eighties-aesthetic synthpop, new wave, and light goth-rock that was pleasing and lush. Never abrasive but gentle, breezy, and aurally sentimental. Adam Klopp’s vocals make the outfit’s namesake (he has sung in church choirs), hitting high notes just floating above the collective’s perfect dream world. Their synths, guitars, beats, and riffs and basslines fall right into my current Eighties kick, keeping the vibe alive. And note Kyle Hooper’s dangling earring when he’s right behind synths…

Black Marble was one of two reasons why I chose to be there. WUSB’s Nightmare Aquarium is responsible for making me a fan of theirs during a summer’s transition to Lindenhurst. Their output has been nothing but good to me. To this day, their sound is one I have yet to figure out and that’s a great thing. Chris Stewart / Black Marble got a great standing ovation revisiting his Brooklyn hometown as a new Los Angeles resident. It didn’t change the total mood or quality of his music if ever the slightest. Still a two-man two-guitar outfit without Ty Kube and a drum machine, Black Marble got right to it filling the vastness with said guitars and drum machines upfront as Stewart’s vocals receded far away and above into the open space. Even if there’s a cold, distant, low-fidelity quality in Black Marble, things somehow sound upbeat for its rays of sunshine. A clean perfect set all the way through.

Cold Cave finally take the stage. It can be said (and said again many times here) that they were one of the essential summer sparks igniting my personal revitalization of sorts during the post-economic crash. From then on, their songs continuously watermarked some of the better key moments in my life without fail, so it’s why I paid a visit to see them live as a thank-you. Wes Eisold made his entrance along with wife Amy Lee (guitars, synths), Ryan McMahon (drums), and Nils Blue (guitars) to open the set with songs from You & Me & Infinity. The New Order-inspired “Glory” really got the crowd going. Soon, New York City got a special treat only for themselves: an appearance by Genesis P-Orridge to perform “Comprehension”, her 2015 collaboration with Cold Cave and Black Rain. It’s her residency, so why not have Cold Cave make the most of their visit? Then the blinding “Heaven Was Full” and later on their marquee hit “Confetti”, which to me was the entire night.

Then, flashing solid colors went wild as Cold Cave went into “Rainbow Girls” mode, the only time the show went color. What did we win? A visit by author Max G. Morton of Eisold’s Heartworm Press, who came on-stage to deliver “Heavenly Metals” before Cold Cave’s ultimate closeout. Morton was decked in all black just like their set, standing tall and no doubt couldn’t be fucked with as he spewed his brand of cold despotic mean testimony. A few more songs and the night was history. Cold Cave delivered one of the most powerful performances I ever felt. McMahon’s drums hit hard, loud and clear through Eisold, Lee, and Blue’s blasting synths and guitars. Most of their setlist and songs I hoped they’d play was more I could ever ask for. “Confetti” was the start of a new era for me when all was almost lost. “Comprehension” has become one of my all-time favorite songs of this decade, if not, ever. “Glory” followed suit to become a new memorable winter favorite of mine. The string of favorables still keeps coming from them. With a new American Nightmare record out, it’s Eisold’s winning year. No bullshit, no moshing, no shoving; save for the guy standing next to me (and it had to be him) who was furiously stomping the venue floor to the point of near-collapse, and almost tearing the venue’s front rail off. Someone was a little into himself at the show, no?

My second visit to Warsaw in as many months was just like the first. Randomly encounters with friends from Stony Brook, amazing line-ups in an amazing venue, and another day in Greenpoint where the fever pitch comes from being in a great place in a great time and having the right ties with specific people. It’s not every day I experience it, but when I do, I feel like with all the motherfuckers and fishnet-wearing witches around me in Boy Harsher, Joy Division, Cat Power, and D.S.-13 shirts, I hit the jackpot.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Seven Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

FANON speculation for season 7

Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” 

Chapter 10 will be posted soon.

I’m excited to finish writing Chapter 10 because a lot is happening and there's still more to come. At the end of Chapter 9, Buck and Eddie were trying to cope with everything that happened during and after Jonah's criminal trial. At the end of day two, Buck had a major panic attack, he asked Eddie to get him out of the courthouse and Eddie drove them home instead of taking Buck back to the loft. Then Buck scheduled an emergency therapy appointment with Dr. Copeland and later that night, after Chris and Buck were already asleep, Eddie spent time trying to decide if he should make an emergency appointment with Frank instead of scheduling one with his new therapist, Dr. Theresa because Frank's a trauma therapist and she's not. He was strongly considering it since both him and Buck were faced yet again with additional ramifications from the shooting.

___________

As a continuation of my WIP Wednesday, here’s a little more of Buck’s conversation with Rhett and Eddie’s conversation with Bertie.

___________

Buck

“Now… if you swipe to the left, I think… well it’s either left or right who knows with all this new fandangle technology… you’ll see a picture of me and my husband.”

Buck swipes left in the photos app and he sees Rhett in a photo with a very handsome man.  If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a picture of him and Eddie because the man in the picture standing next to Rhett has dark hair, brown eyes and olive skin just like Eddie.

“You have a beautiful family.”  Buck says as he hands Rhett’s phone back to him.

“Yeah, we did.  Me and Ray…”  Rhett chuckles then continues.  “His real name was Raymundo but after he left his parents’ house, he wouldn’t let anyone call him that anymore.  We didn’t get married until nine years ago but by that time… we’d already been together for more than forty years.  Even though we didn’t need a piece of paper to tell us how much we loved each other, we wanted it… so we had a small wedding in our backyard with our son and his family.  Getting married also allowed me to change my last name from Quinn to Dominquez… it’s on our marriage license and it’s still hanging up in our home today.  I looked at it before I left to come here.”

Buck’s hit with another realization because he knows he’s been wanting to marry Eddie for years but he’s still not sure Eddie wants him so he tucks the little hope he has back into the corner of his heart.

“You didn’t want to keep your last name?”

“No, I didn’t because the last name Quinn didn’t hold anything but hurt and pain for me.  I grew up in an ok family but my parents weren’t ready to be a mom and a dad and I suppose, it affected how emotionally detached they were.  I don’t blame them for it anymore but finally being able to take my husband’s last name after 40 years of us being together was the best because me, him and our son all had the same last name.”

Buck nods his head because the last name Buckley certainly doesn’t mean shit to him anymore.  That’s Phillip’s last name not his and he’s been trying to figure out what he should change it to.  Diaz has a nice ring to it but he’d have to marry Eddie first for that to happen and since he hasn’t told him how he feels, he doesn’t think it ever will.

Where is Buck?  Also, who is Rhett and why is he telling Buck about his life?

_____

Eddie

After they leave the hospital and they get back inside of the ambulance, it only takes Bertie a few seconds to mention something about Loni.

She closes the driver’s side door, looks at Eddie then says, “She lives on the outskirts of Los Angeles and if anything ever happens to the solitary road that leads to her house, no one will be able to get to her”.

He shrugs his shoulders then says, “Well… she said she likes living out there and she likes the peace and quiet”.

“Yeah, she did say that and she also said the reason why she did it was because she figured she wouldn’t find love again.  So, maybe her decision to live all the way out in an area of Los Angeles that resembles ‘Death Valley’ wasn’t completely about her desire to live in peace and quiet.”

She turns her head to crank the ambulance, then she looks over at Eddie again.  “Some people choose to be alone while others feel like it’s their only option.  Neither choice is wrong but if someone doesn’t want to die alone, they don’t have to”.

Almost immediately after the words leave Bertie’s lips, Eddie feels like someone is screaming at him even though he’ll never admit it’s the universe.  Over the last few days, several people have told him things that remind him of that Geoffrey Chaucer quote, “Time and tide wait for no man” and he realizes he might be running out of time to have a conversation with Buck.

Who is Bertie?  Why is Eddie partnered with her and will he listen to the things she's saying?

___________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 -Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 -After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are part of the foundation when a couple builds a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - Will be posted soon.

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I’m enjoying writing this fic because it’s giving me the chance to unravel the mess that was the 6x18 ending for Buck, Eddie and Chris.  Also, it’s taking them places the show refuses to go including Buck finally having a mental breakdown and Eddie being there for him the same way he was there for Eddie in season 5.

Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading

Read chapters 1 - 9 are already available on AO3.