#dean and winner and way here i come

[pharawee]

I posted about the omegaverse shenanigans in the Pit Babe novel because I thought they weren't going to happen for real.

I didn't joke about the papa and daddy thing just so the series would one-up me and go full mama and papa on me.

And what's with the sudden talk about wanting to have children??

[whimsyfinny]

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

*

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

*

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat. 

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away. 

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine. 

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker. 

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour. 

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor. 

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy  began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him. 

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria. 

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

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

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[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter sixteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, dean highbottom | lmk if i forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x female! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus wins and he loses

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 okay guys so we're ready for Eminem! Coryo right? Remember to give your love and feedback, thank you <33

Beta read by the infamous @nowitsmissing

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Snow reaches the auditorium in time to see several tribute deaths. He knew immediately that it was because of the rat poison and not because of some sickness these tributes already had. Lucy Gray was on the run from Coral. He holds his breath.

Coriolanus hadn't even sat down on his mentor chair. He leaned against the door of the auditorium instead. He didn't want to miss a moment of this.

“Coryo,” you take away his attention.

“Dove,” he said, startled, his head turning to you. You were in a black dress (surely breaking the rules); while Tigris was wearing a pink outfit.

“Tigris,” he greeted his cousin.

Tigris smiled sweetly at Coryo. “We came to support you.”

Coriolanus nods in return, his attention returning to you. He should look at the screen but he couldn't keep his eyes off you. He thinks that you would always steal his attention like this. Take his mind off of important things. You're dangerous. You're a drug.

“Coryo,” you said his name again. It sounded like fate. He gives you a soft smile. He said your name. It sounded like a boy praying to his goddess.

Your eyes turn to the screen. He doesn't.

“She will be okay,” you reassure him.

He hums in response.

“You should go sit down with Tigris,” he said. He wants to kiss you. But he's not sure he's allowed to. Thankfully you lean in and press your lips against his. He sighs, his mind calming down.

You press another kiss to his lips before going to sit with Tigris. Lucy Gray was still alive. Coriolanus turns his attention to the screen again. He could see Lucy Gray running around, trying her best to escape Coral's wrath. Then the snakes come in. The cage shattered. A girl dies. Coriolanus remembers that Lucy Gray had called her nice.

The boy who had used the flag to cover the dead bodies of the tributes dies. His name was Reaper. Clemensia’s tribute. Coriolanus wants to look away. He doesn't. Coral dies. Everyone watching The Hunger Games hears her last words.

“It’s not fair… I couldn't have killed them all for nothing.”

Coriolanus looks away. Coral is dead. He bites the inside of his cheek. They all killed each other for nothing. The games were nothing but a show of power. A way to undermine the district. There were thousands of other alternatives but his home chose the cruelest way of all.

Survival of the fittest. Simple as that.

As he tells himself that, he looks back to the screen. Lucy Gray was being engulfed by the snakes. The snakes weren't biting her. Familiar scent. He walks inside the auditorium. He sits on his seat.

Lucy Gray began to sign,

“You're headed for heaven

The sweet old hereafter

And I've got one foot in the door

But before I can fly up

I've loose ends to tie up

Right here in the old therebefore

I'll be along

When I've finished my song”

More snakes come around her. She would suffocate to death even if they didn't poison her. Coriolanus panics, he yells out, “Dr. Gaul, she won!”

“It’s over! Let her out!” He adds louder, letting his peers hear. Everyone died except one. A single winner. The winner is the Capitol even if Lucy Gray will be crowned as the victor of the tenth annual Hunger Games

“Why aren't they attacking her?” A fellow mentor's questions.

“It must be her singing,” he said immediately, he had thought of the excuse beforehand. Lucy Gray once mentioned in the zoo how she charmed a snake by singing. Therefore it didn't sound ridiculous. “It's calming them.”

“Well, she can't sing forever.”

He's proud he didn't punch the guy.

Lucy Gray continues singing. She wins the heart of the Capitol all over again with her voice and her lyrics. Every student in the auditorium begins to chant,

“Let her out!”

He suspected that the citizens of the Capitol were doing the same as well. There would be great consequences if the game doesn't have a victor. Dr. Gaul knows it too. An announcement is heard throughout,

“Lucy Gray is the victor of the tenth annual Hunger Games."

Coriolanus Snow won.

He's numb. He's overjoyed. Everyone screams out his name. Many congratulations are received. Dr. Gaul wasn't in sight. He felt Tigris hugging him. All he could think was of you. He had the plinth prize. He has the damn prize!

Snow lands on top.

He finds you standing in the corner. Coriolanus breaks into a disbelieving laugh. He picks you up and twirls you around. Coryo doesn't know how he has the strength but it didn't matter. He was very happy. Nothing can stop him now. His life was set.

He puts you down and kisses you. It wasn't appropriate for the public. He didn't care. He kisses you until his breath is knocked out. He gasps as he breaks the kiss. Coryo could still hear the cheers.

“I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”

“You're my soulmate,” he whispered.

He doesn't see your reaction to his confession. He feels horrified about how he blurted it out. He wasn't thinking. Not even a bit. And now, a few minutes after he won, he was being escorted by the Peacekeepers somewhere.

Probably to receive the prize.

He runs his finger over his scar over and over again. Not even realizing that the scar was oddly shaped like numbers. His feet tapped the floor. It was the only sound in the car. He gains a disapproving look from a peacekeeper. He doesn't care.

He can feel his heart in his throat. He doesn't know how to explain this to you. He prepared himself to lie that he noticed the date on your wrist recently and realized that you were always meant to be his.

Despite knowing who your soulmates are, it was rare in the Capitol for people to end up together. That's because the rich marry for power, not love. Even the poor marry for similar reasons, love doesn't feed anyone. It doesn't provide a roof.

This was an exception.

He's gonna have enough money to have a roof.

He has enough love to be with you.

Everything is going to be fine.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Not.

Everything wasn't going to be fine. That's because after waiting for hours and hours in an empty hallway. Two peacekeepers guarding him. He knew that something went wrong. Perhaps Dean Highbottom was trying his best to convince everyone not to give him the prize. He's not going to win though, Coriolanus fought tooth and nail for it.

He deserved it.

It's not long before he is called into the room. There's no one in sight except Dean Highbottom waiting for him near a round table that is placed in the center of the room. He walks towards the center, stopping a few steps before the table. His heart stopped. His palms were getting clammy and he could feel himself getting a bit dizzy.

Fuck.

The table has his mom's compact and his father's handkerchief, the same handkerchief he had wiped Lucy Gray's tears with. His father's initials were stitched onto the fabric. He could smell the rose scent in the room even though the compact no longer carried the rose-perfumed powder.

“Mr. Coriolanus Snow,” Dean Highbottom began by placing a document on the table, in front of him to view. The handwriting is familiar.

It's yours.

“We have proof that you have cheated.”

“Your father's handkerchief and your mother's compact. How many times I have seen her use it, reminds me of roses.”

He doesn't hear what the Dean is saying. He skims over the words on the paper. It was a confession. A confession by you. You had confessed that you and Coriolanus were in this together. You were willing to take the blame.

“She won't be punished,” Highbottom said, “The girl was foolish for soughting your company. Her father has taken care of everything.”

“But you, Coriolanus Snow, will be a peacekeeper for the next twenty years of your life.”

Coriolanus wanted to protest but in his mind, he felt slightly glad that you were safe. And what would he say in his defense? The evidence was clear. There was nothing to do but accept his fate.

However, he wanted to know why you had confessed. He begins to play in his mind that he could pass all this off as circumstantial evidence. But your blatant confession had ruined everything. He knew you wouldn't break under pressure so what was the reason?

Coriolanus begins to feel bitter, the relief of your safety fading away. You should have been punished too. He wasn't the only one into this. If he goes to hell, you should too. You're his after all. This wasn't fair.

This wasn't fucking fair.

What Dean Highbottom says next sends chills down his spine,

“You hear that, boy? That's the sound of snow falling.”

NEXT PART

[jessiarts]

I want to play a game

For context of this game, I make pumpkin carving stencils. Here's a few of them for reference.

Ok, reference of what I can do out of the way, here comes the game:

Here is a Verified GFM organized by Tasnim Alhamss (on line #663 of Operation Olive Branch's spreadsheet), with a goal of $35,000. This fundraiser is just about $2k from meeting their goal.

If we can increase the amount currently raised from $32,974 to $33,100 by September 6th, I will make a pumpkin carving stencil of whichever fandom character you guys vote for in the poll below and post it for free download on my Ko-Fi.

We're starting small. That's roughly $130 dollars in a week. If only 12 people donate $10 we'll be pretty much there. Hell, even 25 people at $5 is still super doable!

Then, once we complete this game I'll set another, with another poll, and repeat that until we can clear their goal.

So what do you say? Can we do that? I think we can.

[Update:

YOU DID IT!!! YOU GLORIOUS BASTARDS FUCKING DID IT!!!!

Not only did you do it, but you did it EARLY- and surpassed this week's goal! Overflowing crabs be upon ye!

You guys met your goal first, meaning you beat TikTok, and so that means you get an additional stencil- so whichever character comes in second for this poll will be that additional stencil!

There's a little over one day still left on the poll, so if there's a character you were really hoping to win but saw wasn't in the lead after voting, go ahead and reblog to help their chances of coming second lol

I'm going to start setting up next weeks game- if you have any characters in particular you want to vote on leave them in the tags.

Great job everyone!

Update: Here's the stencils you won! Bill Cipher won first place in the poll. And, as a reward for beating TikTok, I made a second stencil with the second-place winner of the poll, Deadpool.

As promised, both of these stencils are available for free download on my Ko-Fi!

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

If You Got It, Haunt It

Curtis and Honey Halloween Special

Summary- 2.6k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You and Curtis are out for a night at Paulie's playing a game of pool with Claude and Grey. It all starts with one little Halloween pun and some purple nurples.

Warnings- Smut. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Happy Halloween everyone! My personal favorite holiday and I had to drop something to celebrate. I hope everyone finds something good today among all the mayhem our world has going on. Thank you all for all the comments, likes and shares you give this series. The puns were from a reel I saw on facebook and if I ever come across it here, I will be sure to link it because it was so silly and cute.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

The pool balls clacked across the bars table while you stood nearby watching Curtis and Grey debate on where the balls would go. Claude stood at the other end, picking out pool cues for you and her. 

Money sat on the edge, waiting for the future winner to lay claim. The bar was festively decorated all around, the usual music that Paulie played was now tuned in with some more halloween themed songs. You were waiting for Monster Mash to start playing, already having told Paulie you were gonna need a tray of Purple Nurple shots to be delivered per your and Claude’s request. A little homage to Dean Winchester as well as shooting some purple colored shots. Tis the season after all. 

Curtis wandered over after it was all decided who was playing what ball, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close. You sunk into his touch, cuddling in against him. “Mh mh MH.” You started, looking up at him. “I didn’t know my favorite Halloween treat came in life size.” 

“Honey, I will be the monster you can mash.” Curtis immediately responded, a hand wandering to cup your ass, arching your hip to press against his while you hid your giggle in his chest. “You and Grey are stripes.” He rumbled, grumpy in the moment that Claude insisted on switching up the usual teams. “You over here looking all ‘come fuck me Curtis’ Pretty Girl is giving me some thoughts.” His nips on your mouth, tasting of his whiskey shots from earlier making you grin at the sensation, the warmth of his chest seeping through his hoodie and curling through you. You let your hands slide into the pouch at the front of his shirt, tugging Curtis in closer to you till he was wrapped all around you. “Babe, I must be a witch.” You let your nose rub against his before pulling back enough to see his expression, your grin wider with the upcoming joke you had for him. 

“Really? Why’s that, 'cause you put a spell on me?” Curtis played along, his grumpy expression from earlier still a trace on his features, but he was starting to lighten up a bit more while flirting with you. 

“I actually can raise your broomstick without even touching it.” You informed him, arching enough to press a kiss to his bristled cheek while he gave a huff of a laugh, you snorting in a giggle while he hugged you against him. 

“Fuck.” He grunted, talking only loud enough for you to hear so his mouth was close to your ear, the bristles of his cheek a welcome sensation as they brushed against your jawline. “You really do have that kind of magic woman.” 

Claude shouted over the table, making you and Curtis glance her way. “Curtis, remember you're on opposite teams. You can’t be over there flirting with the enemy.” She held up his pool cue. “And it’s your turn.” 

“Then you’re in for some fucking bad luck Claude, 'cause I have no will power against my girl.” Curtis let his hand run along the curve of your ass one more time before pulling away and taking the cue from her, looking around the table for the best shot while Grey appeared behind Claude, catching her in his arms and making her yelp in surprise, the two of them fooling around with one another while Curtis aimed for a shot.

You admired Curtis, so reminiscent of the first time you two played pool when bumping into each other. It was even the same table, the two of you talking and getting to know each other while Curtis taught you how to play. That moment felt like a lifetime ago now, so much having happened between you and Curtis to get to this carefree moment shared with friends. The sound of Claude whooping in victory while Grey groaned had you breaking from your thoughts, giving a shrug of your shoulder to the group as if you weren’t at all worried while you approached the table and prepared to take your turn. 

“Lucky shot Everett, now step aside.” Your hand pushed playfully against the wall of muscle that made up his chest, never really standing a chance at actually moving Curtis back a step but he purposely stumbled back like you did, giving you space to play. 

“Yes Pretty Girl.” He muttered, making Claude shoot him a ‘don’t you dare look’ and he smirked in response. You set yourself closer to the table, leaning into the move with a sharp hit of the follow through and as soon as your shot was done, you felt Curtis’s hands fall to your waist and while you eased up, you were able to lean into his chest, watching the balls scatter once more, not making any shots but helping line up some for Grey to take when his chance came. “Good shot Pretty Girl.” He watched over your shoulder calculating which ones Claude should take. 

“I'm happy with it.” You hummed out. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to be getting any at that time.” 

They watched Claude and Grey play, the two of them doing their own game of flirting. You and Curtis stayed off to the side, losing interest in the game at this point. 

“Pretty Girl, we should be werewolves for Halloween.” 

“Oh really?” You turned in his hold to face him, the two of you wandering further away from the pool table, the halloween music thumping louder and although you knew Curtis wasn’t much for dancing unless the two of you were at the house, you started swaying to the music playing. “Why is that?” 

His hands were flowing over your curves though, tracing you like he couldn't get enough of how you felt moving in his arms. “I bet we would have a howling good time together.” 

You busted into laughter at this one, making him laugh too. Purple People Eater started playing over the speakers and you tilted your head back to listen to the song. “Paulie! Purple Nurples!” You shouted out. Claude danced over to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you into her arms, the two of you bouncing in a childish dance. 

“Yeah, I got them!” He slid a tray across the counter towards Grey, who gathered up the bright purple shots to bring to the table you all had laid claim to earlier. Curtis took one and sniffed it, his nose wrinkling at the smell. 

“Damn that smells sweet.” He handed you yours while waiting for the go ahead to take it. 

“The grape jello, just be quick with it!” You tilted your head back and let it slide down your throat, Curtis doing the same. You reached over for two more, intent on finishing the tray before the song ended. “Hey Curtis, is it Halloween yet?” 

He took the shot, not as enthusiastic as you, but he was willing to stomach the shot once more for you. “Just a couple more days, Pretty Girl and then you can take out those fangs again.” His blue eyes raked over you suggestively, his gaze dark and wanting with his suggestion. 

“Good, Cause you can carve my pumpkins.” You grabbed his hands to lay them on your curvy ass cheeks, arching into his grasp as he squeezed his hands on you and gave a moan that bordered on getting turned on and exasperated at your last lame joke. A swift little swat to your ass made you wriggle against his hold all that much more. 

“How long have you been saving that one Pretty Girl?” 

“Since last week when I saw a tik tok video.” You admitted, tugging on his hoodie. The addition of the purple nurples made you warm and tingly all over in addition to the way you two had been throwing the suggestive touches and words all night. You must have been giving him a look cause the corner of his mouth lifted smirking, his mouth dropping to flush kisses along your jawline to your ear. “Backseat?” 

“You wanna?” 

“Pretty Girl…” His mouth pressed against the pulse point just behind your ear, eliciting a rushed breath as all those tingles and warmth blossomed in you, wanting, craving, needing more. “Always wanna.” His hand took yours, jerking his thumb over his shoulder when he turned to Grey and Claude in their own little world on the other side of the table, the pool game half played. “We’re stepping out for some air, meet back here in a bit?” 

Grey nodded, raising his hand in a thumbs up. “See you guys in a bit.” 

Claude, not quite caught up, raised a questioning brow in your direction but then when it clicked she mimicked Grey with a thumbs up. “Have fun!” 

Before you could respond, Curtis had you weaving across the bar. The two of you rushing into the cool October night. Maybe the purple nurples were giving you some tipsy confidence but you pushed him against the bar's brick wall, his back thudding and he looked down at you in surprise for half a second before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you up enough to kiss you hungrily. 

He tasted wild, a mix of alcohol and him, you ran your hands down his chest and grasped his belt to work the clasp off enough to push your hands into his jeans to rub at his cock through his boxers. Thick and throbbing already, he hissed against your lips while tilting his head back with a groan, his hold against the back of your neck falling to your waist, turning bruising in his lust. “Fuck Pretty Girl, don’t ever stop.” 

“Don’t plan on it Curtis.” You cupped your palm around his length, squeezing just enough to bring him pleasure but not as far as you knew he would want it. Teasing him was fun and you were enjoying the power he gave you over him. But it didn’t last long as he pushed you back enough to continue back to the car, digging for your car keys out of his back pocket since he drove you two here tonight. 

“Curtis… do you wanna play zombies?” You asked as you wrenched open the back door, falling back into the seat to pull yourself back, Curtis following inside to somehow get the door shut and hover over you. 

“What?!” He asked distractedly as you worked your shirt off and he was as well. But he managed to catch up and shook his head. “No? Yes? Why?” 

You giggled a bit, biting your lip as you snapped open the button of his jeans while looking up at him. “If you do then I will just lay here while you eat me.” 

“Oh god Honey.” He laughed hard, his shoulders shaking and his forehead coming to lean against yours, looking in your eyes. “That one was my favorite tonight.” His mouth pressed to yours and you both started grinding against one another. Curtis eventually dragged his mouth from yours so you could catch your breath while following the column of your neck to your collarbone, sucking a nice little mark there while you arched under him, offering yourself to him. He worked your pants open, starting to drag them off while continuing down your body. This time leaving little bite marks after your zombie comment. 

“Just like that.” You moaned while running your hands over his scalp and holding him to your chest after he tugged your bra up enough for your breasts to be free, your sensitive nipples aching pleasurably under his tongue, gasping happily when he dragged one into his mouth and pulled, making your legs wrap around his waist. “Curtis…” You arched again, your body feline rubbing against his now that you were practically bare under him, short of your pants hanging off one leg and your bra pushed up to be no longer practical on your chest. His hand braced against your back and he growled out. “Hold on Pretty Girl.” 

You grabbed onto his shoulders while he maneuvered you both, him in a seated position in the middle of the back seat and you straddling his lap, mouths still chasing after each other. Curtis worked his cock out from his boxers, running his hand up and down his length while you prepared to wriggle off his lap so you could go down on him. 

“Wat Honey…” He stopped you and tapped his hand against your ass. “Get up on your knees Pretty Girl.” You obliged, raising up and he ran a finger along the seam of your panties covering your cunt, sliding the slick fabric aside. “Did you know the human skeleton has 206 bones, Honey?” 

You watched him mesmerized, his hand sliding up and down slowly on his impressive cock, whimpering with want and need as you felt yourself dripping on his fingers slipping between your folds. “I did… but I could take another.” You squeaked as he teased your clit, ready to start practically begging when he let the tip feed into your entrance. 

“Good cause I plan on giving you another.” Curtis pressed you down onto him. You meant to laugh at this one, but instead it came out as a pleasured gasp, pressing your hands against his chest and grinding on him while adjusting to feeling him so deep inside. 

“Shit…” You hissed out. 

“Take your time, Pretty Girl.” He watched you with half hooded eyes, one hand resting against your waist and the other sliding up and down your folded thigh. “Fuck you are so beautiful just like this.” He praised, keeping still till you told him you were ready. But the way you were rubbing your clit against him and squeezing him, he just hoped you would be ready soon. 

“Mmhh so deep.” You let yourself raise up and back down, finally feeling confident in it. “Okay, I'm ready.” 

Letting Curtis go, he helped you ride him with constant praises, his hold helping you move up and down, rotating your hips which always felt so good your eyes would roll back, feeling every inch of Curtis pressed in you, full of him till you couldn't take anymore you were sure. 

You both sped up, Curtis snapping himself into you while you slammed yourself harder down, once in a while one of you would seek out each others mouths for messy grunting kisses but it all got to be to much and Curtis hugged around you to bury his face into your chest with a curse, both of you rushing for orgasm and it was a slamming pleasure that sucked the air out of your lungs. 

It wasn't till you collapsed against him that Curtis eased the two of you back, lounging in the back seat wrapped around each other comfortably. Your head laid on his chest and at some point Curtis did cover your back with one of your shirts to keep the outside chill slowly seeping into the car from making you cold. Your fingers traced his chest and went to fiddle with the chain. “How long have we been out here you think?” 

Curtis hummed lazily as if he couldn’t be bothered to consider that they were in your backseat in a parking lot. “No clue, you ready to go back inside?” 

“No, not really, I’m pretty comfy.” You said and the conversation went quiet for a moment. 

“Honey, I got one more for you.” Curtis broke the silence and you didn't bother to lift your head, also to comfy in the moment to bother. 

“Give it to me Curtis.” 

“I think I already did.” You glanced up to see the smirk of pride. “Okay, will you let a demigorgon in our bedroom?” 

“No.” You shifted in against him, sighing out a bit happily. “Why would I?” 

“Awww come on Honey, we have done stranger things.” Curtis dropped his punch line. Both of you were silent for half a second till you both broke into laughter. 

[le-trash-prince]

KimKenta WIP snippet

anyone want some Kenta whump that doesn't involve Tony

I’m hmmmm maybe halfway through this draft and should be able to post it by the end of the week, unless I keep adding more scenes, which could happen.

Kim reaches his hand out and grabs at the back of Kenta’s hoodie, yanking him towards the window. “Give me the gun,” he growls, and this time Kenta obeys. Kim covers Kenta’s back, firing towards the guards, while Kenta squeezes past him. It’s inelegant—Kenta struggles through the window, and Kim finds himself wishing they had special equipment with them, like in a spy movie. A smoke grenade, for the guards. A grapple hook, for a smooth getaway. Or perhaps a partner that he could let himself completely trust. On any given day, it's a coin toss as to whether Kim is more comfortable around Winner or Kenta. Winner at least has clear motivations. He wants money, and Pete has plenty of it. But Kenta remains a closed book to Kim. He says he's not interested in redemption, or forgiveness, and Kim can't figure out what it is that he's after. Kenta tugs at Kim’s sleeve once he’s outside, and Kim swings back out of the window. He slides the gun neatly into Kenta’s shoulder holster and watches as Kenta's breath catches in his throat. His metallic, coppery scent is stronger than usual tonight, and it fills Kim's nose in an almost unpleasant way. They clamber downwards, holding onto the concrete ledge and dangling off the side of the building. Kim takes a deep breath, looks over at Kenta, and nods once, before letting go. It’s a painful fall—as much as the dense bushes break the impact, Kim knows he’ll feel this for days. But his limbs are all in one piece, if not his dignity; he rolls out of the bushes with leaves still clinging to him. Kenta is on hands and knees on the ground, breathing heavily, like the fall took it out of him. He's got one hand pressed tightly to his side, and Kim feels an unexpected, cold sense of dread trickle down his spine when the man doesn’t get up. A car skids to a halt on the street in front of them and honks twice. Dean. “Come on,” Kim whispers, hooking his hand under Kenta’s arm and pulling him to his feet, dragging him under the cover of the trees before the guards can spot them. Kenta stumbles unsteadily and leans into Kim, like he can't support his own weight, and that's when it fully clicks. “Damnit, Kenta, were you shot?” “… I’m fine,” Kenta replies hoarsely.

Edit: Ch. 1 here

[fanficfanattic]

Will you share your Jamie Tartt playlist? 👀

Buckle up boys! Hold on to your butts! Other ways to say brace yourselves!

To Build a Home (feat. Patrick Watson) by The Cinematic Orchestra

I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young

Sorrow by Bad Religion

The Greatest by Sia

Love I'm Given by Ellie Goulding

Runaway by AURORA

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Move by Oliver Tree

High Hopes by Panic! At the Disco

Outrunning Karma by Alec Benjamin

Home by Cavetown

The Perfect Space by The Avett Brothers

A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley

False Confidence by Noah Kahan

Legend by The Score

The Competition by Kimya Dawson

In the Blood by John Mayer

Winner by Walgrove

Icarus by Bastille

Sympathy by The Goo Goo Dolls

Take Yours, I’ll Take Mine by Matthew Mole

People Help the People by Birdy

Daylight by David Kushner

Cough it Out by The Front Bottoms

Sober by P!nk

The Cave by Mumford & Sons

Tear It Up by Queen

Waves by Dean Lewis

Soldier by Ingrid Michaelson

We Don't Believe What's On TV by Twenty One Pilots

Blood In the Cut by K.Flay

Chameleon/Comedian by Kathleen Edwards

Water (feat. Rostam) by Ra Ra Riot

All is Soft Inside by AURORA

Pieces (feat. Noah Kahan) by Matoma

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine

Rise up With Fists!! by Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins

Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips

HandClap by Fitz and The Tantrums

Hi Ren by Ren

I Don't Belong In This Club by Why Don't We & Macklemore

Skinny Love by Birdy

Raising Hell (feat. Big Freedia) by Kesha

Go Places by The New Pornographers

The Night Starts Here by Stars

Ghost by Ella Henderson

Here We Go by WILD

If I Be Wrong by Wolf Larsen

Part of Me by Noah Kahan

We're Going to Be Friends

The White Stripes

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Samson by Regina Spektor

Let's go to Hell by Tai Verdes

Raise Hell by Brandi Carlile

Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy

Don't Tell the Boys by Petey

Sober Up (feat. Rivers Cuomo) by AJR

O.N.E. By Yeasayer

Locked Up by Ingrid Michaelson

Like a Stone by Audioslave

Leave the Light On by Overcoats

Tough (feat. Noah Kahan) by Quinn XCII

touch tank by quinnie

Warrior by AURORA

Too Sweet by Hozier

I'Il Think of You by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Into the Ocean by Blue October

Star Fire by Sleeping Wolf

Happier (Stripped) by Marshmello & Bastille

Knievel by Tommy Lefroy

Walk Me Home by P!nk

Brat (Humor Me) by Deore

Am I Wrong by Love Spit Love

Someday by One Republic

7 Years by Lukas Graham

Stick Season by Noah Kahan

Like a Prayer by Madonna

Little Bit by Lykke Li

Bruises by Lewis Capaldi

Don't Carry It All by The Decemberists

Freaking Out by The Wrecks

Will Do by TV on the Radio

The Dirt by Tor Miller

Hope of Morning by Icon for Hire

Smile by Mikky Ekko

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service

Blood Brothers by Ingrid Michaelson

All My Friends by The Revivalists

Fuck Authority by Pennywise

Crazier Things by Chelsea Cutler & Noah Kahan

Kiss With a Fist by Florence + the Machine

Unstoppable by Sia

Can't Go to Hell by Sin Shake Sin

World's Smallest Violin by AJR

All I Know So Far by P!nk

Knocking at the Door by Arkells

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

The Seed by AURORA

Wine, Women and Song by Harvey Danger

The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience

All You Wanted by Michelle Branch

Young Blood by The Naked and Famous

Truth No. 2 by The Chicks

Homesick by Noah Kahan

Family Line by Conan Gray

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Heroes Never Die by NateWantsToBattle

My Number Tegan and Sara

Masterpiece by Big Thief

Til It Happens To You by Lady Gaga

I Don't Wanna Live Forever (Cups Version) by Kurt Hugo Schneider

Sit Down by James

Robots by Dan Mangan

Windowsill by Arcade Fire

Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson

Bite the Hand by boygenius

The Top (Bonus Track) by Primo the Alien

MEAN! (Remix) [feat. Noah Kahan] by Madeline The Person

Home We'll Go (Take My Hand) by Steve Aoki & Walk Off the Earth

From The Bottom Of My Heart by The Wallflowers

FourFiveSeconds by Rihanna and Kanye West and Paul McCartney

I Am the Resurrection by The Stone Roses

Chrome Plated Heart by Melissa Etheridge

Precious Love by James Morrison

Bones (feat. One Republic) by Galantis

Let's Go (feat. Icona Pop) by Tiesto

Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend

So What by P!nk

I Don't Feel Like Dancin' by Scissor Sisters

Creature Fear by Bon Iver

Brother by The Rural Alberta Advantage

Save Me by Noah Kahan

High and Dry by Radiohead

Power by Little Mix

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters and Men

The Boy Does Nothing by Alesha Dixon

Set You Free (Edit) by N-Trance

Stronger by Britney Spears

First Things First by Neon Trees

Kings & Queens by Ava Max

Welcome Home, Son by Radical Face

Capsize by FRENSHIP & Emily Warren

We Were Kings by Ryan Star

Come Undone by Duran Duran

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John

Pride by Noah Kahan & mxmtoon

Everywhere by Michelle Branch

Blow Me (One Last Kiss) by P!nk

Dust Bowl Dance by Mumford & Sons

Bad Blood by Bastille

Blue Monday by New Order

Make Believe by The FAIM

Midnight Show by The Killers

Can't Fight the Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes

Ophelia by The Lumineers

Shaky Ground by Freedom Fry

Grounds for Divorce by Elbow

Heaven and Hell by Let's Play Dead

Survivor by The Score

Ready Now by dodie

Young Blood by Noah Kahan

Ain’t No Reason by Brett Dennen

King by Years & Years

Bulletproof by La Roux

Beating Heart Cadavers by Acollective

How to Rest by The Crane Wives

Santa Monica by Everclear

Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil

Get Some by Lykke Li

Sky Full of Song by Florence + the Machine

Beautiful Trauma by P!nk

Parachute (Serban Ghenea Mix) by Ingrid Michaelson

Down to the Bottom by Dorothy

YES MOM by Tessa Violet

Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold

Rise Up by Andra Day

Maps by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Hurt Somebody by Noah Kahan

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

pit babe ep 3 stray fever thoughts

- they are NOT playing with these episode lengths like damn

- still love the intro like come on color grading

- black turtleneck suit jacket combo this man is one of the baddies

- “he’s the one who babe calls daddy” i feel like is maybe more of a translation thing…. but awlright

- i see babe already pulling out the puppy eyes… its joever for me if we’re being honest

- ok how many of the characters are tony’s adopted children cause im gonna go with any and everyone until proven otherwise

- sonic again with the fits. at least he commits and we must stan for that

- oh this is kinda nostalgic for fixing cars with my dad…

- ok alanjeff kinda funny. like alan whining about his current crisis and jeff in the corner eating noodles and being judgy i love it

- oh way knows people ?? he has conversations that don’t revolve around babe??

- ok coloring. i love you blue sets

- HIS FUCKING CARS AHHHH

- oh so babe is rich.

- he has a tortured soul and hot wheels collection your honor how could i not wanna hit

- GET A JOB!! STAY AWAY FROM HER!!!!!

- oh this subplot goes wild actually like the super children thing…. delicious little backstory. plus peep the others there too

- awwwwww they’re so cute. not ready for the pain that’s coming. obsessed with this cute lil song playing like we switched genres for a sec here

- vroom vroom mf making it sound like the pits of hell up in here. i would. need my noise blockers

- wait whose dean did we meet him yet. is this the one yall shipping with winner

- obsessed with jeff and how he moves through the world like a prey animal

- oh here’s pete. here’s the poor little meow meow ig

- they got sponsored time to go crazy on those chicken nugggies

- help winner being a loser again. kim needs to knock some sense into him or something. NOT HIM SUGGESTING SABOTAGE THEN GOING “ oopsie 🤪” djjdjdjdjdjdjdj

- is one of them an omega and can it be kim and jeff

- tony eating his evil little treats, unfortunately a slay

- here we go the famed milk placement

- not charlie in his casuals with that big ass watch who is this kid. also babe sleeping …. i need to do atrocious things to this man

- it’s such a brave choice having a digital clock as a prop

- what did way see… i think way is one third wheeling moment away from exploding

- ooo is way mind controlling rn… that felt strange

- he plays car video games it’s his special interest

- oh shit this kinda making me sweaty

- i get babe if i try to focus without listening to my tunes i lose my fucking mind

- can someone deck winner oh here we go pfjdjejrjrbd winner stumbking this clown can’t even end the fight ejejdj

this ep was my fav so far feels like we’re settling into the rhythm of the world and also descending into chaos, fun

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

As January drags to a close, I have a shit ton of dental work coming my way. Thrilling. (I too would like to have my toenails clipped while I am there.)

Also, the Diagonal Trees may be coming down soon.

My sister added me to her Apple Arcade plan and asked me to play Hello Kitty Island Adventure with her and my nephew. I have resolved the snorkel issue but now I am despairing over a quest-dependent puzzle. “Just float with some complex touch motions over to a cave ledge on the entire other side of the screen. Then do it again.” Get absolutely fucked. 

I slap “Dear diary” on posts here that I feel are just kind of personal nattering, but I also do an actual sort of newsletter “Dear Diary” series over on Patreon, often 1000+ words. As you all know, I have no trouble running my mouth freestyle, so these are easy to write when I have nothing formally finished. This weekend on the Future Vision tier, we have “Dear diary: Liminal edition.” 

Reblogs of interest

Listen, I am reluctant to reblog things about Gaza because so many posts turn out to have an undercurrent of antisemitism that’s either obvious, or that I don’t realize until later. But this BBC article struck me as a factual analysis of the discrepancy between the stated goals of the IDF and the enormity of the damage. It doesn’t add up at all, conclusively, and I think that’s worth notice. 

With that said, we’re going to build up slowly to lighter subjects:

The Epic of Gilgamesh illustrated by Wael Tarabieh

Breakfast around the world

“There are so many ways to make moodboards, bookcovers, and icons without plagiarizing”

Gritty calligraphy

Hot Vintage Movie Stars (Male) polls, round four. People are shocked that the polls have turned out this way. I’m not. Like. James Dean is losing right now. I’m gonna guess Toshiro Mifune for the overall winner, with Vincent Price as an outside chance, because this is Tumblr. Which, I am sincerely thrilled that people here have sincere opinions about movie stars active before 1970, whether they’re “wrong” or not. I could have written a top 10 list of hot vintage actors based on what I thought people (my age or older) (in the U.S.) would expect to see; I could have written it in my sleep. This is more interesting. 

McMansion Heaven: Once again, I apologize for Alabama. But whatever you think this house is going to look like from the back, you are not ready for the scrolldown. 

Video

Thrillingly, there is a new Hugo Awards controversy. Resignations ensued. And still, no one will explain why certain nominees were disqualified. 

Everything is big and small

Sweet dreams are made of speed

A good pup is hungry

The sacred texts

“More like Pusheen the limits of lab safety”

Personal tags of the week

Definitely animal sounds and fiber art

[oldsargasso]

WinnerDean spy AU?

thank youuuu I love you 🥺 sorry for taking days to answer lol I have been. so sick.

five VERY LONG facts...honestly this is just a story outline at this point. TW for violence

the first time they meet it's because Dean's been sent on his first solo mission, instead of Babe or Way getting it done. and he's so proud of himself - finally Alan has recognised how hard he's been working! sure it's not like Babe (currently holed up at home with a broken leg) or Way (currently undercover as a high-end ~companion) could have been sent anyway...still. Dean was the one Alan pulled from the team and sent out into the field all on his own. and he's going a great job---bypasses all the security measures, is in the CEO's office with his password being cracked as Dean pokes around the desk drawers---when the door opens and the number 1 ranked agent at X Hunter's rival agency saunters in.

2. Winner had incredible scores throughout his stint at the academy. But X Hunter has some more avant garde recruitment practices and Winner's not bitter about it at all. Working at RDR means he stays number one, big fish in a small pond kind of thing. His talents are being wasted looking after the very lucrative contract Tony's hired them on for; officially it's "locating and correcting weaknesses in the security framework" but it's really corporate espionage. and it's boring as hell. Winner hates it. why become a spy if not to go around guns blazing and driving dangerously and seducing hot targets? turns out there's a lot more paperwork and sending phishing emails and standing around waiting for people to leave their office in actuality. that is, until Winner makes the usual midnight loop around the top-floor offices and finds something very interesting. (Winner's a little miffed that X Hunter didn't even bother sending their top agent for this job.)

3. Tony offers Alan a deal: give Tony Babe, and Dean gets released with nary a scratch.

Alan doesn't take the deal.

Winner doesn't care, about the deal or Babe or the way Tony's aide keeps hovering around like he wants to say something and definitely not about the pretty agent he captured. But he DOES care that Tony has his own guys doing the interrogation. Like why even hire Winner and his agency if not for something exactly like this? So he hacks into the security feed and finds Tony's guys aren't even asking questions. It's like they're just ...playing almost, landing blows all over the agent's body while his arms are held so he can't protect himself, both eyes blackened and blood dripping to the floor from his torn-up mouth. And Winner notices someone else in the system too. They've covered their tracks very well---unfortunately for North there's only a handful of people that can cover their tracks like that. It pisses Winner off: any good agency would have gotten their guy out, or at least gotten him a bullet---instead X Hunter is just watching? Listening to the sounds of Dean gasping for breath after another interminable minute of being held underwater? Winner kicks North out of the system and patches the weak point and decides to cater to his own particular moral code.

4. Dean doesn't break. He doesn't talk. He clings to the hope of getting out (and then he hopes for it to end). He repeats to himself that Alan wouldn't have left him here if he didn't think Dean could handle it. Alan has faith in Dean so Dean will have faith in Alan. And he manages to keep it up for a few days, or maybe a week---the only way of tracking time is the comings and goings of Tony's guys, and Dean's not sure they have a set schedule. He hurts all over. There's no position he can sleep in that doesn't have his ribs screaming at him, and the comments from Tony's men have started to get very pointed in a way that has his skin crawling. Dean knows the protocol, and he should have gotten at least a message by now. It's easier then, to give up a little, and let his anger and bitterness turn to apathy and carry him through.

5. Winner's favourite thing about being a spy? The vast array of beautiful guns he has access to. He was top of his class when it came to shooting, and taking out five guys before any of them manage to fire back is barely enough to spark any satisfaction. Dean doesn't answer when Winner asks if he can walk, so Winner just slings him over one shoulder and makes his leisurely way out. He's planted enough explosives around Tony's estate that every man is going to be completely occupied elsewhere.

He does run into Kenta on his way to the exit---Winner doesn't shoot, because the guy is armed with a knife and that's not a fair fight---and Kenta just nods at him, like. with approval. Weird guy, but probably has to be to have worked for Tony for so long.

And then when Winner makes it to the garage North and Sonic are waiting there? with a guy Winner distinctly remembers seeing tied up in Tony's office a few weeks ago. And they just take Dean from him and drive away??

So Winner goes back inside and shoots a few more people. He finds Tony's body, and Kenta kneeled next to it, and is like "well I have an empty seat in my car now..." and then they drive away.

(bonus fun fact is that Babe and Charlie are having a whole Mr and Mrs Smith AU thing going on in the background)

[ohanny]

at 4am my mind randomly flashed to the insane amounts of condoms in the olympic village which of course made me go “oh, what if pit babe -” so here is an unhinged pit babe characters as summer olympic athletes from someone whose knowledge of the olympics is limited to their condom statistics:

kenta is a swimmer. Duh.

pete is his swim coach. pete used to be like michael phelps or something before retiring due to an injury but now he parades around in his lil windbreaker and people are still in awe of him. it is infuriating because kenta just wants to train and compete but it takes an hour to get across any room because his coach is basically swim jesus.

north is a diver. we have seen michael shirtless, okay. he needs to be in a tiny speedo, bouncing on a diving board and then doing like bazillion lil spins before a sploosh.

sonic would be the team physio guy because imagine him waving ice packs and athletic tape, scolding and mothering people with the same level of exasperation as in the show.

way just looks like a pole vaulter. he would lope like a gazelle and then punt himself into the air only to then fall onto the mattress and be all spread out watching as the bar wobbles, then settles, before smiling. he is totally one of the most indecently giffed athletes in the games just because of this.

dean runs track. not the short sprints but like 400m or those relay race things. he just has the cheekbones and the air of a nervous whippet who runs in circles and then comes to you like “DID I DO GOOD?????”

babe and charlie? gymnasts. like babe is the golden boy of the sport and charlie the hot newcomer whose first olympics these are.

alan and jeff are the gymnastic coaches. alan would be like “babe, you need more speed and then you’ll have to - *interpretative dance arms demonstrating what the grip on the parallel bars should look like*” and jeff would follow it with a “what he means is you need more air which means you’ll have to increase your starting speed by at least 20%.”

i mean this means winner is a gymnast as well but like one that is very aware of the fact he only qualified because the person before him broke an arm the week before. his specialty is the rings which is very impressive but he's bitter since babe gets all the sponsors because he flies through the air like a beautiful swan and, unfortunately, in every photo ever taken of winner he just looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

and kim? you might think it’d make sense he’d also be in the gymnast team but let's for a second picture this: KIM AS AN EQUESTRIAN. like tell me he doesn’t lowkey have the aura of a neurotic horse girl? imagine the cream pants and shiny boots. imagine kim having a huge ass horse named cupcake that sonic keeps calling “a pony!” with sparkling eyes.

tony would be the french judge who gives everyone shit scores just because.

[irradiatedrosegarden]

its really great to see someone on here whose so passionate abt dead money!! i would love to hear about daisy and their relationship to the other collars! (also, i really love how you draw christine, she is delightfully teensy tiny)

YES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING, I WOULD BE SO HAPPY TO EXPLAIN :D

The entire situation of being stuck in the Sierra Madre and forced to cooperate was a special kind of awful for Daisy, what with her being the type of person who does not trust other people (not at all quickly, at least). She likes being in control, and absolutely hates feeling like her life is in the hands (or, *ahem*, around the neck) of anyone else, which makes for a very interesting situation with some very interesting dynamics with the others collars!

Daisy and Dean:

Their relationship is something of an unstable equality, where they both hold the upper hand (and both want to hold the upper hand), until they don't. They could each beat the other easily, Dean with smarts, Daisy with strength, and they each know it, and it's something about that shared capacity for ruthlessness (the ability for each of them to fight with teeth and claws and come out on top; there's no clear winner between them, it could go either way) that enables them to actually get pretty close. (and like, really close at one specific point in an abandoned convenience store, if you catch my drift.) Between the two of them, Dean is the one in the so-called "leader" position, calling the shots whenever they're doing things side-by-side, although look any closer than face value and it becomes clear how much he relies on Daisy's strength, selflessness, and general know-how. Dean will let her take point more often than not, let her charge ahead and do the dangerous things, the scary things, the hard things, that he will then take most of the credit for (she doesn't mind too much, luckily). They're kind of like,, y'know, a rich guy and his big ol' guard dog that he keeps on a short leash and claims the reason it's so short is because he needs to keep her under control, that it's a reminder that he's in charge, he's the one who owns her (metaphorically), but in reality it's so short because A) he finds comfort in her being so close, able to protect him at arms' length, and B) she is really who's leading. not him.

He also refers to her as "Miss Daisy" more often than not, which is kind of cute. She calls him "babydoll."

Daisy and Dog/God:

Daisy meets God twice, once in the police station and again in the kitchen, and both times, they absolutely hate each other. No camaraderie between them, nor was there ever any potential.

Daisy and Dog, however, end up caring for each other. A lot. They become fiercely protective over each other, quickly realizing "oh hey I would die for this person actually" and each putting in the extra effort to make sure the other has what they need. Daisy goes out of her way to keep Dog fed, to reassure him that he's doing well, everything's going fine. In return, Dog keeps an eye out for the things he realizes Daisy is afraid of (BUT IMPORTANT CHARACTER NOTE FOR DAISY, admitting fear is something she never, ever does. Ever.). Dog will use himself as a shield for Daisy (if need be), and does his best to steer her away from the darker areas of the Villa, or from more cramped, enclosed spaces or pathways (she has claustrophobia). He tends to scout ahead when they're traveling together, reporting back to Daisy with things like "Small space ahead" or "Ghosts that way," so they can take a different route (even if they could theoretically kill ghosts together with relative ease, ghosts are scary, dude).

Daisy has a lot of sympathy for Dog. For a good chunk of her time in the Sierra Madre, he acts as an anchor, reminding her she's not here (or shouldn't be here) for the gold. She's here to cooperate until she can get the hell out of here, and take Dog with her. He deserves better than what the Sierra Madre has handed him.

(no spoilers bc I'm writing a whole fic about Daisy's time in the Madre, but . . . . things don't end up going well for her and Dog; something she ends up regretting so much, and so deeply, she attempts to drink the cloud kiss (poison), which (fortunately) doesn't end up killing her.)

Daisy and Christine:

These two end up trusting one another more than anyone trusts anyone else, due to several factors, most having to do with their inexplicable shared experiences (having gone to the Big Empty and gotten their brains messed with, being the only two human women, both knowing and being very close with Veronica[!!][although it is a purely platonic, sisterly relationship with Daisy; we all know that was very much not the case with Christine and Veronica <3]). They both adapt to the other very quickly, and get really good at watching each others' backs while they do their things in the Villa. They have a pretty significant barrier between them, though, with Christine not being able to speak, and Daisy . . . really not being able to understand her, for the most part (low perception and very low intelligence), but those walls fall down once they reach the casino and Christine is able to speak and explain things in a way Daisy understands.

very important note as well, Daisy understands immediately that Christine wouldn't want to go in the elevator at her switching station to do all her work manually (tiny cramped room, noises like an Auto-Doc, no. way.). Forcing Christine into the elevator was never even an option; Daisy has claustrophobia, she doesn't want to be stuck in any tiny-ass room with barely any leg room. Christine appreciates this. :)

i love talking about characters and dead money this is so fabulous, thank you for your ask <33333

[mikefaistinfo]

After ‘Challengers,’ Cannes and the Chopard Trophy, Mike Faist Is Taking a Break

by: RHONDA RICHFORD 23 MAIO 2024

CANNES — It’s been a busy spring for Mike Faist. First came love, lust and tennis drama “Challengers,” costarring Zendaya and all the resulting hoopla from the film’s sexy scenes, followed by the Trophée Chopard and the Cannes red carpet.

Now the 32-year-old actor is taking a break.

“I need to take time, some time, any time,” he says, coming down from the media frenzy.

Stepping into “Challengers” with Zendaya and Josh O’Connor put him not only in the center of an on-screen love triangle but also of the media frenzy surrounding the film.

“I wasn’t prepared,” he says. “It was something that was really daunting, and it terrified me at first, and then it was about letting that go and just kind of showing up utilizing it.

“I kind of had to face the music at some point and say, ‘All right, how do I engage with all of this attention? And how do I utilize it so I can get to the thing that actually matters most to me, which is the work itself?’ But it was daunting, terrifying, scary, because I’m not hiding behind the character at that point.”

He bonded with fellow Trophèe Chopard winner Sophie Wilde on their fear of public speaking. “We’re terrified because we had to actually speak. We all have impostor syndrome is the reality of the situation. You kind of just start to question the validity of any of this. Like, ‘Why me?’ and it’s overwhelming.”

Faist recognizes the Trophée Chopard has gone to some stellar names: Gael Garcia Bernal, James McAvoy, John Boyega, Kingsley Ben-Adir, to name a few since its inception in 2001.

“The truth of the matter is, I feel very honored. And at the same time, it’s always an uncomfortable thing, walking a red carpet, having your picture taken,” he says. “It’s an honor to be here, and at the same time I can’t help but be like, ‘Oh my god, I just want to hide.’

“I think most actors are probably very shy — if you’re a good one. Putting yourself out there in that way is terrifying, and we all try to hide behind characters. That’s how we’re able to be our most vulnerable, is by clowning. By being able to put on a character, put on a performance, put on a different person’s skin, that’s how we’re able to express ourselves in our truest sense.

“It’s a mind trick,” he continues. “So getting on a red carpet, you’re actually not hiding behind a character. You’re just you, and that’s an awful feeling.”

Walking the Cannes red carpet, he also attended the screening of Francis Ford Coppola’s personal magnum opus “Megalopolis.”

“Francis Ford Coppola, Steven [Spielberg], Martin Scorsese — all those guys growing up in the ’70s directing and the actors that they used are major, major influences for me,” Faist says.

Notice that he’s on a first name basis with one on that list, specifically Spielberg, who he worked with in “West Side Story.”

Not just a first name basis, even a nickname. “I call him ‘kid,’ because when you’re on set with him, he’s just a child, he’s so youthful and has so much energy, and he genuinely loves this. And that energy is so infectious,” he says. That energy and enthusiasm has remained with Faist to this day. “He’s one of those examples that I’m like, ‘What would Steven do?’ in any situation.”

Those old school acting performances still resonate. He recently used James Dean in “Giant” to get into character for last year’s West End stage production of “Brokeback Mountain.”

“I felt very lost, and I wasn’t sure whether or not I was really able to do the play. I didn’t feel like I had a way in. Then I watched that movie, I watched his performance, and said, ‘OK, I think I have a way.’”

He reels them off: Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Robert De Niro and Al Pacino.

“They’re extremely informative in terms of feeding my own work and using it and taking it and scrambling it up a little bit and projecting it out there,” Faist says.

“Those are giants,” he adds. “I think it’s really easy to get swept up in a desire to be famous, but the reality is that none of those guys got into it for that reason; they got into it for the love of the craft and the work. If that remains your true north, that’s my goal.”

With the success of “Challengers,” there are projects brewing, scripts being read and roles being offered. But while Faist is riding the big media wave, he is cautious enough not to take what is being thrown his way.

“You can’t just say yes to everything,” he says. “I have to decide whether or not I’ve actually something to contribute.”

It’s a screenplay he has been working on since before “West Side Story,” but with that movie and all the ensuing work, the screenplay has been on the backburner. Still brewing, still stirring, and still adding little bits here and there. “It’s something I haven’t been able to let go of, which indicated that I need to see it through to its completion.”

Link: https://wwd.com/eye/people/challengers-cannes-chopard-mike-faist-1236397497/

[dalekofchaos]

Booking King of the Ring for the years WWE didn't have it

Fantasy booking a King of the Ring winner every year WWE didn’t have King of the Ring.

2003: John Cena wins King of the Ring

In 2003, John Cena was finding his stride as a heel having a WWE Title match against Brock Lesnar and facing The Undertaker on PPV, he was becoming a big star. John Cena (Smackdown) would cheat to beat fan favorite Booker T (RAW) in the finals to become King of the Ring and the rap verses he could’ve cut about all of it would have made it even more better.

2004: Randy Orton (RAW) wins King of the Ring

Randy Orton was in the middle of a long IC Title reign and along with Evolution went over two legends at WrestleMania and was being groomed to be the youngest world champion in WWE history. John Cena now a babyface and US Champion on Smackdown would look to become a 2 time King of the Ring winner and repeat but he would make it to the finals and lose in a First Time Ever match to the WWE Intercontinental Champion and Evolution's Randy Orton from RAW.

2005: Christian wins King of the Ring

Now I know WWE wouldn’t have done this, I know they didn’t see Christian as anything more than a mid card guy but around this time he was white hot around this time and a King of the Ring win could propel him to the main event. Christian (RAW) would beat Chris Benoit (Smackdown) after interference from his problem solver Tomko and set up a WWE Title match against John Cena at Summerslam which Christian wins.

2007: Bobby Lashley wins King of the Ring

I would have gone with Mr. Kennedy but he got injured around this time and was later suspended, so why not go with Bobby Lashley on the condition that he turns heel because he proved in TNA he’s a very good heel. We’re in the finals with Lashley vs King Booker, last year's winner. Lashley is going in as a babyface and Booker as a heel but we have a double turn when Queen Sharmell turns on Booker helping Lashley win and aligning with him.

2009: The Miz wins King of the Ring

The Miz was starting to make his way into the upper mid card as the US Champion and a King of the Ring win in 2009 could’ve better prepared him for his eventual WWE Title win in late 2010. Miz would defeat ex tag team partner John Morrison in the finals.

2011: CM Punk wins King of the Ring

This event would replace Capital Punishment with Punk defeating Mysterio in the finals. This added momentum would make him even hotter after his pipebomb promo and his WWE Title win over John Cena at Money in the Bank, all that much better.

2012: Cody Rhodes wins King of the Ring

Cody Rhodes has just come off of a great Intercontinental Title reign but his moment halted because he dropped the belt to The Big Show of all people. Rhodes defeats Christian in the finals to regain his momentum back and hopefully face Sheamus for the World Heavyweight Title.

2013: Dean Ambrose of The Shield wins King of the Ring

Dean Ambrose was US Champion and considered the leader of The Shield. He would go on to defeat Daniel Bryan in the finals with the help of Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns getting a lot of heat since Bryan was white hot around this time.

2014: Cesaro wins King of the Ring

Again I know WWE wouldn’t have gone for this but this would’ve have been the right move since Cesaro was super over at the time. In my booking Cesaro has just won the Intercontinental Title and qualifies for King of the Ring. He would go on to defeat ex tag team partner Jack Swagger in the finals to win King of the Ring.

2016: AJ Styles wins King of the Ring

In 2016, Styles debuted in the WWE and had a great debut year and at this point was only a few months from winning his first WWE Championship. I would have AJ and Cena make it to the finals and have their very first one on one encounter and here is where I’d have AJ turn heel when The Club (Gallows & Anderson) interfere and costs Cena the match giving AJ the win.

2017: Braun Strowman wins King of the Ring

Braun was white hot as a monster heel around this time just wrecking anything and everything in his path. Braun would wreck Roman Reigns in the finals to win King of the Ring and go on to win the Universal Title from Brock Lesnar probably at No Mercy.

2018: Shinsuke Nakamura wins King of the Ring

In 2018, Nakamura won the Royal Rumble then faced AJ Styles for the WWE Championship and then turned heel on AJ after failing to win the title making his character more interesting but also killing his momentum because he lost all the time. Then he had a 5 month reign as US Champion which he only defended once on PPV. Nakamura would defeat Roman Reigns in the finals after a low blow and a Kinsasha. After the match, we have Corey Graves say Nakamura is not only the king of strong style but now has become the King of the Ring. Nakamura would go on to defeat Jeff Hardy for the US Title and hopefully have a much better run with it.

2020:Let's say Drew McIntyre. It was his time as the top guy and despite the pandemic era, I think McIntyre as king would've worked.

2022:Seth Rollins. Peak insufferable douchebag Seth Rollins as king would've been hillarious

2023:Solo Sikoa. It adds to building up Solo up as the enforcer and Roman's right hand and heir to the Bloodline.

Bonus round. Fantasy booking the Queen of The Ring from 2016-2023

2016::Charlotte Flair, there we get Charlotte as Queen of the ring out of the way. This is the obvious choice since they really began to push Charlotte hard at this point

2017:Sasha Banks. Feels right move, plus Queen Bo$$ has a nice ring to it

2018:Alexa Bliss. ALexa was in her peak Goddess era and Queen Alexa would've been over.

2019:Shayna Baszler. Shayna got called up and I feel like this would've been a consolation prize for not winning the title at Mania 36(FOR SOME FUCKING REASON)

2020:Bayley. The year that put Bayley on the map and during her longest reign, so Queen Bayley fits so much

2022:Becky Lynch. Big Time Becks as Queen would've worked. The fans hated her when she beat Bianca, boy would they hate her as the bitchy condescending Queen of the Ring.

2023:Rhea Ripley. Rhea was the hottest name in the company and Mami was on top. Queen Eradicator would've just been perfect.

[ikeromantic]

Alice in College pt 6

An IkeRev Central characters AU! Written for my IkeRev 1K Celebration, a boarding school AU was the poll winner. Approx. 6000 words (yes I should have split it in two. or made it shorter. but I just couldn't.) 6/6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Alice hurried after Blanc, glad of his grip on her hand as they ran. Most students were running away from the scene, holding their shirts over their faces to protect from the heavy smoke and the floating sparks in the air. Mousse and Dean were in the hall, directing the crowd and keeping the curious from coming in. 

Dean gave them a curt nod. “Glad to see you both. Blanc, are you sure it’s safe to take Alice further? You can leave her with me.”

“I’m afraid I feel better about it knowing she’s close.” He flashed Dean an apologetic smile. “I’ll keep her out of harm’s way.”

Dean looked conflicted, but waved them through.

They pushed past several students on their way, most turned unrecognizable by the smoke and ash in the air. For a moment, Alice thought she caught sight of Dean again, though he was half-hidden beneath an oversized black hoodie, his face partially covered by a purple scarf. But then she realized it must be Dalim. She waved, but he was too quick and she couldn’t catch his eye.

The two skidded to a stop outside a room she recognized, even with the charred doorframe and smoking carpet. It was the lab where Oliver and Loki were working on their improved magic crystal. 

“Oh no,” Alice gasped. She was the one to push forward now, into the room. She hoped none of her new friends were hurt. 

“What’s happened,” Blanc asked, his voice calm despite the sight within. 

Inside, Harr was staring crimson-eyed at a grouping of crystals held in a complicated mechanical device atop the table. He shook with effort, his outstretched hands encased in a bright white glow. He glimpsed Alice and his lips twisted into a frown. “No. Get- get out! I can’t hold it!”

She didn’t have time to really register what he meant. Blanc tugged at her hand to pull her away, but she jerked her arm free, her hands moving faster than her thoughts.

The crystals on the table shook, the light inside them growing to a violet wash so bright it hurt to look at. It overwhelmed whatever spell Harr was trying to cast, and the light around his hands winked out. 

“Stop!” Alice shouted, her hands held up in a blocking gesture. She felt something push against her, like a strong wind or a current in a river. Then the magic around her crackled, flashed, and died. The power of the crystals, drained. 

Harr’s gaze faded to his usual hue, and two dark-hued eyes stared out at her in surprise beneath his messy shock of hair. “What was that?”

Loki appeared behind Blanc, a squirming Oliver held in his arms. Both were singed, their faces a mask of blue and grey ashes. Loki’s hair still carried a tail of white smoke. “They didn’t blow up?”

Oliver bit his arm and finally wriggled loose. “You should have let me stay! I would have been able to disengage the chained -” He seemed to only just then notice Alice and Blanc. “What are you two doing here?”

Blanc exchanged a look with Harr. “We arrived just in time to see the crystals run out of power. Quick thinking from Harr to drain them.”

“Yes.” Harr grimaced. “It seemed like a good idea.” He crossed his arms, looking distinctly uncomfortable. 

Alice wasn’t sure if Blanc and Harr were confused about why the crystals stopped or if they were covering for her. Either was good, as far as she was concerned. She hadn’t meant to reveal herself to anyone else yet, but if it was just Harr and Blanc in on her secret, that seemed safe enough. 

“They shouldn’t have reacted that way to the infusion, though,” Oliver was saying as he stomped over to the table. “They held for the first three charges. I don’t understand.”

Loki took a breath and then laughed. It was such an unexpected sound that everyone in the room turned to look at him. He grinned at them. “I’m just so happy we’re all ok. I was really worried there for a minute. But I should have known. Harr is the greatest wizard in all of Cradle. He can handle anything.”

Harr’s ears turned bright red at the compliment. “That’s . . . really too much. I didn’t do anything. You were the one that thought quickly and pulled a friend out of danger.”

“I repeat, I didn’t need to be pulled anywhere.” Oliver’s sharp voice rang out, along with the tinkling sound of shattering crystal. “See? I already found the problem. The oscillating sync driver is missing, here.” He pointed at a small gap in the device that held the crystals. “It must have fallen out.”

Loki’s brows rose. “That’s odd. It was in pretty tight.” The two exchanged a heavy look. 

“Do you think someone might have -” Alice began to ask, but Dean appeared in the doorway, interrupting.

“Is anyone hurt?” Dean’s focus was on Blanc.

Blanc shook his head. “It appears the worst of it is some singed hair and carpeting. The table might need replacing as well. But thanks to -” his gaze slid over Alice, “Harr’s quick thinking, we avoided a true disaster.”

Dean let out a breath, his shoulders sagging. “Thank goodness.” His sharp blue gaze lifted again, fixing on Loki and Oliver. “Now I must ask what trouble were you two up to? If I’d known you didn’t have enough school work, I could have -”

Harr sighed. “Sometimes homework isn’t the answer.”

Blanc chuckled. “I’m afraid Silver’s right. Besides, now isn’t the best time to lecture. We’ve got cleanup to do.”

Dean shut his eyes a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he turned from them and focused on Alice. “Come along, my dear. I think everything is under control here.” Dean put his hand on her midback and guided her from the room.

Alice threw a hopeful look to Blanc, but he only gave her an apologetic smile. “I apologize Alice. I’m afraid I’m needed. I’ll have to make it up to you another day.”

Harr nodded to her as he lifted his silver mask back to his face. The others were too preoccupied to pay her exit any attention as Dean led her away.

“You were quite brave to run into the room as you did, if a bit foolish.” Dean chided her gently once they were in the hall. 

Alice shrugged. “I wanted to help.”

Dean took a breath as if he were about to say something, and then changed his mind. They walked a little way in silence, through empty, smoky halls. “You know,” he said finally, “I feel every time we’ve spoken, I’ve been wearing my teacher’s cap. But I’d like to get to know you as a person, Alice, perhaps as a friend?”

“Oh! Well that would be nice, I suppose.” 

He gave her a reproachful smile. “You only suppose?”

She let out a quiet laugh. “You are kind of intimidating, so yeah. I just suppose. All I know about you is that you’re pretty strict!”

Dean laughed aloud at that. “True. True.” He rubbed his chin. “I would like to change that. Learning is important but Harr isn’t wrong. Homework does not solve all ills. Nor does it win friends, besides, perhaps, Mousse.”

“You could start by canceling my detentions,” Alice ventured. 

He laughed again, harder this time. “Afraid not, my dear. But that was a very good try!” Dean wiped at his eyes, as if he’d cried from the hilarity. “What if, instead, I invited you on a little shopping trip? You haven’t gotten to see much of Central and I would enjoy being your guide.”

She barely took a moment to consider. “That would be great! When can we go?”

“This weekend? If you can stay out of trouble, that is. Barely here a week and I find you in the middle of every major carnage.”

“Pfft. Of course I can stay out of trouble. I just have bad luck sometimes.” Alice huffed. 

Dean patted her head affectionately, the way one might pet a puppy. “I almost believe you.”

For Alice, the weekend couldn’t come soon enough. She had her experiments with Dalim and Amon, and her shopping trip with Dean. Plus, Blanc was supposed to have brunch with her and some other friends. It would be a full weekend, and she was really looking forward to it. The rest of the school week flew by with so much to look forward to, nd Friday arrived before she knew it.

She was a little surprised when Dalim showed up to her last class of the day to drag her up to their secret laboratory. Apparently he was as excited as she to get started, Alice thought with a little grin. 

They took a roundabout path up to the closed section in the tower, meandering through several quiet hallways and empty classrooms. Dalim kept up a pleasant patter as they walked, but Alice thought he looked anxious. Maybe he was afraid to get caught, she thought. Or worried about the tests they planned to do tonight. 

“Is something wrong,” she finally asked just as they arrived at the roped off corridor. 

Dalim grinned. “Of course not, princess. I’m a little preoccupied, is all. Nothing to worry about.” 

Alice didn’t really buy it, but if he wasn’t going to tell her, she wasn’t going to pry. 

Amon was waiting for them at the entrance to the hidden lab, and unlike Dalim, he looked completely enthusiastic. His smile was wide and his eyes practically shone. “I was wondering if you’d really come or if you were going to chicken out,” he teased.

“Pffft. I’m not afraid. I told you, I want to find out what I can do. Especially after I -” Alice stopped herself, realizing she was about to admit she’d stopped the magical explosion of Oliver and Loki’s device. 

Dalim nudged her. “Well, come on. You can’t just stop in the middle like that. What did you do?”

“Yes, do tell.” Amon’s gaze flicked to Dalim and back again. 

“Well,” Alice took a breath, “I used my power. And it worked!” She explained what she’d done a little nervously, but excited too. 

Amon and Dalim listened with rapt attention, nodding, and asking questions as she went. “So who saw you do this? Harr? And Blanc?” Amon’s questions were rapid fire, his tone sharp.

“Yeah. Just them. Loki and Oliver got back a moment after. And Dean too. I don’t think they know anything. Blanc told them Harr did it.” Alice couldn’t help but notice the grimace on Amon’s face, his lips twisted in displeasure. “Is that bad?”

“It’s not great,” Dalim replied. He and Amon shared a weighty look. 

“It’s not important. They won’t tell anyone,” Amon said after an awkward beat of silence passed. “Let’s talk about something else. Like, this -” He turned and pulled a small, wrapped box from behind him. “It’s for you, Alice. I made it.”

She took the box from his hands, her lips turning up in a smile. “You made something for me? That’s so sweet!” Alice tore open the colorful paper and took off the lid. A thin silver bracelet sat atop a folded bit of cloth. There were tiny shards of magic crystal set in the silver, and they made it glow with a faint blueish light. 

“Put it on,” Amon urged her. 

“Maybe she can try it on later. We don’t want it to get in the way of our tests,” Dalim countered. 

“It won’t interfere with anything.” Amon gave his friend a sharp look. “I should know. I made it.”

Alice watched the little spat, wondering if this was Dalim being jealous. He certainly looked unhappy. She considered putting the bracelet away just to keep the peace, but it was so pretty. She lifted it and slipped it over her wrist. The moment she did, the bracelet seemed to tighten, and a tingling sensation spread across her skin. “A-amon? Is it . . . supposed to feel weird?”

He smirked. “That’s just the magic aura. The crystals give it some special properties. Like the fit. It’ll shrink or expand to the wearer’s size. And it helps keep you safe.”

“What? How?” Alice raised an eyebrow. 

“Not anything weird,” Amon chuckled. “It just turns red if you’re near something dangerous.”

She examined the bracelet closely, curious about how it worked, how Amon had crafted it. “Hm. Alright, that’s kind of neat. Thank you!”

Dalim frowned but said nothing else about the gift. “Alright, let’s get started with the testing. That’s what we came here for.”

Over the next few hours, Amon and Dalim cast a variety of spells. Some targeted Alice directly, others targeted something else to use against her. Time and again, she shattered the magic and stopped the casting. It didn’t seem to matter the power of the spell or what kind, though it did wear her out.

“It’s like running,” she sighed, rubbing her face. “In these little bursts. I’m completely exhausted.” 

Dalim patted her hand. “It takes a lot of effort, huh? Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you some water.”

Alice smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, Dalim. I really appr- ow!” She turned quickly to see Amon channeling a little lightning zap at her leg, just above her shoe. 

He gave an unapologetic grin. “It seems you need to know there’s some magic being cast at you to break it. If you’re distracted, it hits you the same as anyone else. Isn’t that fascinating?”

Dalim scowled. “Very.”

Alice rubbed her leg. “Yeah, I guess. You better not have left a mark though! I’m going shopping with Dean tomorrow and I don’t want to have to explain it.”

“I’d like it if you hung out with us tomorrow,” Amon replied. “We need to try more tests, and see what your limits are. It’s going to take time.”

“She can do it on another weekend, Amon. She already has plans.” Dalim intervened for her. 

Alice wondered again if this was some jealous streak. They were both friends and she didn’t want them to argue, especially where she was involved. “Thanks, Dalim. We can meet up next weekend, instead? I’ll keep both days free just so we have plenty of time.”

Amon frowned and looked away. “Yeah. Ok. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He stood up, still grimacing. “I’m out. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Dalim watched him go with an unreadable expression. He handed Alice a glass of water without commenting.

She took it and drank the whole thing. Breaking magic spells really was a lot of work. “Thanks for the drink. And for sticking up for me. But just so you know, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can, princess.” Dalim smiled at her. He took her hand in his, examining the bracelet. “You sure you want to wear this thing?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty and Amon did make it just for me.”

His lips twitched as if trying to turn downward, but Dalim kept his smile. “If that’s what you want, princess.”

When Alice got back to her room, she collapsed into bed, still dressed. She felt too exhausted for anything else. Her sleep was a dreamless dark, and in the morning she still felt tired. But her excitement at the planned shopping trip got her up and moving. 

Alice cleaned up and changed her clothes, picking a cute skirt and sweater combo for the trip. Then she practically ran to the cafeteria to meet up with Dean. He was waiting for her at one of the tables, and waved when he spotted her. 

“Good morning, Alice. I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of getting a plate for you.” Dean gestured to a plate with what looked like carefully measured servings of fruit, vegetables, eggs, toast, and cheese. 

“Thanks!” Alice sat down with a happy sigh. 

Dean smiled. “Oh good. I wasn’t sure what you liked, but I made sure to assemble the most nutritionally responsible foods, as recommended by the -” He stopped when he saw Alice holding back a giggle. “I suppose I still sound like a teacher, hm?”

“A little, yeah. It’s okay though. I know you mean it kindly.” 

He gave a rueful laugh. “I appreciate your understanding.” Dean relaxed back in his chair. “I’ve planned out a little tour for you. I was thinking we can visit the Cradle Museum, as well as a selection of shops in a circular route that will bring us back to the college at the end of the day. We’ll have about an hour at each stop, with a break planned for lunch.”

Alice did giggle now. “You have it planned to the minute, hm?”

“I guess I do.” He grinned. “But I can improvise as needed.”

After she finished her food, he held out his arm. “Let’s go. We’re about four minutes ahead of schedule!”

Alice took his arm and together they walked to the grand foyer and the huge entry doors she’d come in on her first day. Only, when she tried to step out, her body froze. A buzzing sensation cascaded over her skin, and the crystals on her bracelet turned an unsettling shade of crimson. 

Dean stopped when he realized she wasn’t moving. “What is it, Alice?”

“I . . . I think there’s something dangerous out there?” She eyed the bracelet, and then the open door. 

“I suppose there could be, but I won’t let any harm come to you.” Dean smiled encouragingly. 

Alice nodded, and tried to take a step forward, but her legs just wouldn’t obey. Her muscles trembled and she felt sweat break out on her forehead. The harder she tried to move forward, the worse she felt. Her stomach roiled and clenched, and her pulse raced erratically. “Dean, I - I’m not feeling well.”

He examined her face with a worried look. “You’re going pale.” He held his wrist to her forehead, “And you feel a little feverish. Did this just start or were you pretending to be alright earlier?”

“It just started. When we got to the door.” She stopped trying to move forward, and took a shaky breath.”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t think you’re up to a tour of Central today. But don’t worry. We can reschedule on a day you’re feeling better, alright?” He stroked her hair gently. “Your health and safety are more important than a shopping trip.”

Alice nodded, letting herself relax into his comforting touch. He was right, of course. If she was sick, she couldn’t very well go out. But she’d felt fine earlier. Right up until the bracelet turned red. Maybe it was trying to warn her that she was sick? She wished she knew more about how it worked.

Dean led Alice back to her room and settled her in bed. “Get some rest today, ok? I’ll come check on you later, when I get back from town.”

She nodded. “I will. I think I’m feeling better already.” And she was. The queasy weakness that affected her at the door faded when she turned to go back into the college. Alice felt fine now, but she didn’t want to trouble Dean. “I’ll see you later then.”

A little while after Dean left, Amon showed up at her door. “Hey! I thought you were going shopping today.” He cocked his head, his gold eyes twinkling with unexplained mischief. 

“I was, but I didn’t feel well after breakfast so we’re gonna reschedule.” 

Amon nodded sagely. “That’s terrible, Alice. But hey! If you’re bored, you can hang out with me and Dalim.”

“That sounds good. Thanks, Amon.” She gave him a small smile. “I don’t know how much fun I’ll be though. I feel better now, but I don’t know what made me feel bad. I might get sick again if we do anything too exciting.”

He chuckled. “I have a feeling you’ll be just fine. I’ll go grab Dalim and be right back.”

Amon returned a little while later with Dalim in tow. They had a bag full of magic supplies, like the things in their secret lab. “We can do some more testing, since you’re not going anywhere,” he told her with a grin.

Alice sighed. “I don’t know, Amon. It was pretty tiring yesterday.”

“Which is why we need to test more today.” Amon began taking out his equipment and magic crystals. 

She expected Dalim to protest or say something in her defense, but the blond was silent and didn’t make eye contact with her. Alice decided to protest again. “Amon, I really don’t want to do this today. I know you think -” She paused as the tingling sensation swept over her skin again. The crystals on her bracelet turned red. 

Amon raised an eyebrow. “It looks like it’s dangerous for you to not test today.”

Dalim nodded. “Yeah, princess. You should probably . . . just say yes.”

“ButI don’t w-w-” The word tangled on her tongue and her lips went numb. Alice took a breath, trying to settle herself. What danger could lie in just relaxing for the day? She didn’t know, but maybe Amon was right. Maybe there was something she needed to know. After a long moment, she nodded. “Alright. Let’s get it over with then.”

Amon spent the whole day pushing her limits. If the few hours she’d spent testing her power the night before were exhausting, today was grueling. A long distance run instead of a series of sprints. He and Dalim gave her no rest, no break, as they threw one thing after another at her. Amon kept checking a device in his bag at intervals, nodding and muttering to himself. 

It was only when Dean returned that she got a break. He knocked at the door, and sent Amon and Dalim into a frenzy of tucking away their tools. 

“If he asks,”Amon whispered, “we’ve been playing cards.”

“Oh - alright,” Alice breathed. She felt completely depleted, and her voice shook as she called out, ‘Come in!”

Dean opened the door, his eyes going wide as he saw her guests. “I didn’t know you’d have company.” His brows went up as he looked her over. “You look worse than you did this morning. You haven’t been resting. What have the three of you gotten up to?” 

His teaching voice was in full force and Alice felt like a child caught stealing candy. “We - we were playing cards?”

Dalim splayed a deck in his hand, holding them up for Dean to see. 

“Well, it’s clearly too much. Amon, Dalim, you should go.” Dean put a fist to his hip, one foot tapping impatiently.

Amon looked as if he might argue, but Dalim nudged him. They traded a meaningful look, and then Amon nodded. “Alright. We’ll see you later, Alice. Get better soon.” His smile was sharp and wide and full of secret meanings.

Alice couldn’t muster a smile in return. “Thanks for, uh, spending the day with me.” 

Dean watched them leave with a scowl. “I can tell they kept you from resting today.”

She felt a sudden urge to tell him the truth. To confess about her secret power, the tests, the lab in the tower - all of it. But the moment she thought of it, a shiver ran through her and her stomach roiled. The bracelet glimmered redly at her wrist. Alice opened her mouth and then closed it again, only nodding in agreement with Dean. 

He sighed. “I brought you a treat from the chocolate shop, but it’s probably better not to eat it now. I’ll go get you some soup instead.”

“I . . . yeah. That would be great,” she managed. When Dean left, she lifted her arm to look at the thin sliver strip, its crystals gleaming a friendly blue now. Alice wasn’t sure it was working as intended. It seemed to sense danger in all kinds of strange ways, and she was beginning to think it might be causing her to feel bad as well. She tried to tug it off, but the bracelet no longer fit over her hand. It caught on her thumb and the meat of her palm and wouldn’t budge. Alice felt around it, trying to find a catch. Anything that might help her take it off. She was still fiddling with it when Dean brought her soup back.

“What’s that you’re doing?” He set the soup down and came to lean over and look at the bracelet with her. 

“I was trying to get this off. But I think it’s on too tight and I can’t find a way to unlatch it.” Alice held her hand out to show him.

Dean took her hand gently in his, and ran his cool fingertips around the edge. He had an adorable habit of nibbling at his lower lip when he focused on something, and he was doing it now. 

Alice tried not to blush. He was only helping with the bracelet and didn’t mean anything. He probably had no idea how close he was sitting or how cute he looked. 

“Hmm. It seems well and truly stuck. We could probably cut it off, if you’re alright with breaking it.” 

“I’d rather not, unless it’s the only way.” Alice sighed. “It was a gift, and it would be rude to destroy it like that.”

Dean shrugged. “If you still can’t get the bracelet off, come find me. I am sure if we put our heads together, we’ll figure it out.”

Alice nodded. “Alright.” 

“Good.” He beamed. “Now eat up and then get some rest.” 

The next day, Alice woke well after dawn. Sunlight was streaming into her room from the window and the birds outside were singing. It felt like a beautiful day. Her body felt a bit sore from yesterday’s marathon testing, but good. Today was her brunch with Blanc, Harr, Oliver, and Loki. She was really looking forward to it.

After a quick shower, she got ready to go, and was only half done with her hair when Blanc knocked on her door. “Come in,” she called, turning to greet him.

Blanc stepped into her room, a joyful smile lifting the corners of his lips. “You are a lovely sight, dear Alice. Good morning!”

She felt her face heating at the compliment, but tried not to let it show. “Thank you, Blanc. It’s good to see you too.” She cleared her throat. “I’m almost done getting ready, if you’ll give me a minute.”

“Of course.” He leaned against the doorframe, relaxed. “Dean told me you weren’t feeling well yesterday, so I wanted to check on you a little before our meal. Are you up to it? If not, I’d be happy to bring you some treats to enjoy here.”

“I feel great. I don’t know what was wrong with me yesterday.” Alice frowned slightly. “I have some thoughts but . . .” Her eyes drifted to the bracelet, “I’m probably just imagining things.”

Blanc chuckled. “Well, I am just glad you’re feeling better.” 

“Say, do you know anything about jewelry?” She finished her bun, and pinned it in place with a little butterfly clip.

“Not really. I rather like watches though.”

Alice let out a breath, “I guess it’s nothing to worry about right now.” She stood and straightened her skirt. It was a frilly thing of lace and feather-light cotton, and the tiny flowers on it reminded her of the blossom-pink of Blanc’s eyes. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Blanc held out his hand. 

She started to reach for it, and felt the now-familiar race of unpleasant energy across her skin. It prickled almost painfully, a thousand tiny little sharpened points brushing up her arm and down her chest. Her hand dropped to her side, the bracelet gleaming a dim brick-red.

“Is something the matter, Alice?”

“N-no. Let me . . . let me just . . .” She tried to power through it, raising her hand again, brushing his gloved hand with her fingertips. The sensation grew stronger, and she felt her belly clench and her shoulders tighten. 

Blanc’s brow wrinkled in worry. “You’re going quite pale.”

“I’m fine,” she gasped. “Just -” A hot, blinding pain flashed behind her eyes, and she fell back into her seat. “Perhaps not,” she sighed, and put a hand to her face. The sensations were definitely coming from the bracelet, she thought. It must be malfunctioning. But how to get it off? Maybe Amon could help, since he made it.

“Alice.” Blanc stepped closer and knelt down to study her face. “Something is very wrong here. Will you tell me what is happening to you?”

“I . . . I don’t really know?” She held up her arm. “It’s something with this b-b-brrrrrr -” Alice found she couldn’t force the word out. Her jaw clamped tight against it, and her throat closed up. For a moment she struggled to breathe. 

Blanc’s eyes were wide and full of concern. “I’m going to fetch Harr. You wait here. Don’t move.” He hurried off, nearly at a run. 

Alice sat very still and tried to get her breath back. She couldn’t understand what was happening. It was as if the bracelet perceived danger from anyone other than Amon or Dalim. She couldn’t be around them, go places with them . . . She knew she should wait here for Blanc and Harr but she wasn��t sure they could help. She needed Amon to fix this thing, or get it off her wrist.

She went to the boys’ dorms to look for them. The place was quite different on a Sunday. Empty of the usual rowdy crowd as everyone spent time off campus or slept away their Saturday hangover. Amon’s door was closed when she got to it and raised her hand to knock. But the sounds of voices inside stopped her.

“Amon, this is not going to work. She isn’t stupid.” Dalim’s voice was strained, an octave higher than normal and loud.

“She is and it will. Give it a week and she’ll be eating out of my - our hands.” Amon’s reply, cold and arrogant.

Dalim sighed. “She’s going to realize it’s the bracelet and she’ll find a way to get it off. You’re pushing her too hard too fast.”

“You need to trust me, Dalim. I know best. This will work and when it does, we will own Alice’s power. Between my magic and her spell breaking, I’ll - we’ll be unstoppable.” Amon laughed.

“I just don’t think controlling her like this is a good idea. You should have let me just win her over my way. She’d fall in love and we’d get the same thing.”

Alice’s hand clenched into a tight fist, one she shoved against her mouth to keep quiet. She shook with pure fury. This whole time, they’d only pretended to be friends. Faked their affection. She felt sick with anger. 

Amon laughed again. “Love is fickle. Mind control is forever. When I finish breaking her, you can still romance her if you still want to. It’ll be even easier then.”

“That takes all the fun out of it.” Dalim sounded closer now, louder.

Alice wanted to stay and hear more, but she was afraid they would open the door and find her. She turned and ran down the hall as fast as she could go. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt her chest, and her breath felt cold and sharp in her lungs. 

Harr and Blanc were waiting for her in her dorm room when she got back. She nearly knocked poor Harr over as she fled inside and slammed the door shut behind her. 

Blanc took her arm, steadying her. His lips were turned down in dismay. “Alice, where did you go? What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I - Ah - mmmm -” She started coughing as her throat closed over the words again. Alice started to cry in frustration, sagging to the floor.

Harr looked confused and more than a little alarmed. “You said she was ill?” 

“I think so. But I don’t think it’s natural. She went from perfectly fine to trembling and pale in a heartbeat.” Blanc took a breath. “It might be a curse? Or some result of the accident earlier this week.”

Harr said nothing, but he took his silver mask off and set it aside. Then he knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “Alice. Look at me.” His voice was soft and low, gentle like a summer breeze. “I think you want to tell us what’s wrong, and can’t. Is that right?”

She nodded miserably.

“Ok, good. That’s a start.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “I’m going to check you with my magic. I need you to stop yourself from breaking my spell. Do you think you can do that?”

Alice wasn’t sure. She didn’t know the extent of the bracelet’s power, but she knew she could try. She gave another nod, this one more determined. 

Harr’s thumb stroked the back of her hand reassuringly. “Alright. I’m going to start now.” His eyes began to brighten, turning first a deep cherry red, then a bloodied crimson, and finally the scarlet of a sunset sky. 

She could feel his magic pressing against her, feather-light and tender. Like a butterfly’s wings. As it moved over her, she felt the bracelet’s power wash over her skin again, fire hot this time, little embers burning up her arm and down her chest and back. 

Blanc made a worried sound as he saw her tremble. “I think you’re hurting her. Be careful Harr.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her.

Alice fought the sick feeling in her chest as Harr’s spell overlaid Amon’s magic. Part of her was trying to push back, to smash his power to little bits. And part of her was determined to keep that from happening. It was a war in her heart and in her head. 

The bracelet’s glow went brighter still, and Alice felt a flash of pain behind her eyes. Fireworks of the worst kind. A steady, rotten pulse that made her skull feel soft and overfull. She clamped her eyes shut.

“You’re doing great,” Harr whispered. “I found the source of the curse. It’s this bracelet. Do you recognize it?”

Blanc shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve seen her wear it before.”

“I see.” Harr set a fingertip against the silver length. “Alice, this might hurt for a moment. I need to know you’re ok with that. Are you?”

He sounded so worried for her, and so apologetic. She forced her head to move just a fraction, the smallest of nods. Even that sent a cascade of pain down her spine. 

Blanc hugged her gently from behind. “I’ve got you Alice. You can lean on me if you need to.”

She did, though Amon’s magic fought that too. Blanc’s warm embrace and the feel of Harr’s gentle grip reassured her. She was safe. With friends. People who cared for her.

Harr’s spell changed, the hum of it growing louder. Like a colony of angry bees, or a swarm of hungry hummingbirds, it trembled in the air and sent little clouds of dust spiraling through the room. 

The bracelet clung stubbornly to Alice’s wrist. It went hot against her skin, and then cold. It shook with its own force. The glow of its crystals was bright now, red like a flame. Then it broke. It snapped into three pieces and fell to the floor.

Free of its magic, Alice snapped a hand out and crushed what power remained in it. Her breath shuddered through her, relief and fatigue. 

Harr smiled. “There you go. Now. How did this happen?”

Alice, still resting in the circle of Blanc’s arms, told them everything. The hidden lab, the tests of her ability, the gift, and the conversation she overheard. As she talked, Harr’s expression clouded over. His shy, gentle look turned to a hard, stern grimace. 

“He won’t get away with it this time. We have proof now. Let’s see the school board dismiss these accusations.” Harr gave her hands one more squeeze and then stood. “I’m going to go make a formal report now. In the meantime -”

“I’ll keep her out of trouble,” Blanc promised. “But Harr, be careful. Amon’s been accused of worse and he always seems to get out of it.”

“Not this time.” Harr put his mask back on and left with a determined stride. 

Alice let herself be comforted, feeling better than she had in days. “Blanc, is it ok if I’m sad?”

“About what?” He stroked her hair gently. “Missing my fabulous brunch?”

She let out a small laugh. “Well, of course that. But . . . I really felt like Amon and Dalim were my friends. I wanted to - I thought - I don’t know. I think maybe Amon isn’t all bad. And Dalim is . . . I think he’s just doing what he thinks he has to.”

Blanc’s hand froze for a moment in surprise. Then he chuckled. “That’s just you, seeing the good in everyone. You really are too sweet, Alice.”

The End

[shallowseeker]

THESIS: AU Bobby is more like John than OG Bobby. He's a soldier. That's why it makes sense to me that OG Mary wound up gravitating to him.

He's the John-version of Bobby Singer! (I don't actually think she'd gravitate to OG Bobby Singer.) After Mary dies, he essentially becomes John-coded with regards to Jack:

Bobby: About that. I liked the kid. We fought together. But there's only one way this ends. ... Bobby: If his human side is gone, you know what's left -- Lucifer. Now, if you boys want to sit around and talk, fine. But me? I'm gonna get on the horn to some of my people and go find that boy. ... Bobby: An unstoppable monster who don't know right from wrong gets put down -- or the closest we can get to it. And anybody who don't know that needs to go back to school. 14x19

Mary gravitates towards soldiers who make her feel safe. She and Dean both chafe when faced with authoritarian-King-type characters:

DEAN: And that's what you offered them, a chance to stroke your ego? And you wonder why they said no. Well, we've got something better – a plan. Now, you can sit on the sidelines and watch the world die, or you can fight. (CROWLEY considers.) DEAN: You know, to be king again, maybe you need to remember how to be a soldier. 11x22

Tragically, because they were raised with an ingrained value of heroism, they're often more comfortable with being in the fight, especially one with clear rules.

MARY: I’m not going back. DEAN: I’m sorry. What? MARY: I fought beside these people. I respect them. I respect their cause. You can’t expect me to just abandon them. SAM: No, Mom, that’s not -- You heard what Lucifer said. We have 31 hours -- MARY: I -- Sam...Dean...I know what you went through to come find me. [Dean scoffs at that. He is obviously upset.] MARY: But these people are being slaughtered. They need me here. 13x22

As for the fight itself, finding the right cause or being in a purgatory where the enemies are clearly delineated is a very tempting allure for all of them (indeed, all of us). We all want to back the winner, whether that's the strongest or the rightest.

SAM: Getting these groups to enlist and then work together, it's not gonna be easy. DEAN: Couldn't you just compel them? CHUCK: I invented free will for a reason. DEAN: So we're tying our hands on principle? CHUCK: No, you can't make an effective soldier by force. They have to choose this fight. DEAN: But they're gonna want to know they're backing a winner. LUCIFER (indicates CHUCK): So… 11x22

Anyway, both Dean and Mary gravitate towards soldiers, but they specifically fall in love with soldiers who, despite fighting a war (in Castiel's case, a war that waged on for billions of years), still retain their sense of hope and kindness.

MARY: Even after the war, after everything, he still believes in happily ever after, you know? He's everything a hunter isn't. (beat) No offense.

Hunters believe that it's going to end one way. But the Henry-and-John-and-Cas coded idealism combats that, somewhat. They believe in the future. If they believe in the future, then Mary and Dean can believe in that future, too. (CAS: "You have to believe you can do better, be better. You can start being good anytime. DEAN echoes this with Jack: "Every day, we have to believe we can get better.")

Anyway, these dutiful, rock-solid idealists soothe some of that inner nihilism that both Mary and Dean struggle with.

///

But!

After Mary, John was destroyed. He didn't believe in anything anymore. (He was supposed to be invincible, incorruptible, at least in Mary's eyes.) John without Mary rampaged the world in the name of a corrupt cause, neglecting his children but "doing what he had to do" to keep them safe.

On the flipside, when she returned, we got to see a Mary without John. She was so horrified by the smoldering remains of the John she knew, of the death of the idealized future for her children, that she went looking for a new cause too. That's what the British MoL was all about. It was Mary's answer to nihilism. She also neglected her family by "doing what she had to do" to keep them safe.