#i spent half a day writing this so uhhh please read it?

[genderqueer-miharu]

Remember that Harrow cover i reblogged a few days ago? Well i checked Kingsleigh channel to see if they had any other Milgram covers and, to my delight, not only did they have covers for every song in trial one but after listening to all of them i've come to the conclusion that they might just have the BEST Milgram covers i've heard. Not only do the lyrics flow SO SO well with the beat and rythm of the song but their choice of lyrics is absolutely AMAZING. The way they adapted all the songs fit so well with all the characters and their mentalities like they REALLY understand these characters these songs have fantastic lyrics. These ones in particular are my favorites:

Bring It On: I think because of the frantic nature of the song many covers are not able to make the lyrics flow that well with the song, but this one does that SO well. And again the lyrics they chose are absolute bangers and it fits with the tone of the original.

Throw Down: This one's great because the lyrics they chose REALLY made me question if they watched Triage while making it (they didn't this was uploaded last year) because seriously it's like they Knew. Like just look at these lyrics

"Ah tick tock tick tock tick tock you know, all my reasons stay but you don't. They'll keep holding on if stop"

""Throw down" the thread connecting you with me it's in your breath, the seconds while you're still living/"Throw down" the calling that i can't take back, for every lie i say, comes hope and can that be the same?"

(Thay "calling" line specifically really hits hard aftet Triage because of the cut phone line noises in the song)

"Hey, remember what it feels like? If what i want comes at a price, then i'll give through sacrifice"

And my personal favorite part

""Throw down" all ethics are a delusion. But my guilt is still the same when morning comes/"Throw down" emotions that are colorless. Should i be scared of death when i have nothing of me left?"

Just...ough. They're really really good

Half: I think because Kazui is such a hard character to grasp, a cover of his song in english that fits with his character can be really hard. But they did it they managed to make a cover that fits Kazui so well and it highlighted certain things from the original song that i never noticed. Such as these lyrics:

"And though one day your heart could change, i know it never will. So i will, to love you still. You ever heard a lie so sincere?"

"But if hiding this in every kiss is called unhappiness. Then i vow, I won't allow, A single word to ever reach you"

I love this one because it made realize oh he's not lamenting that a single word won't reach his wife he's making sure that's the case. Also the entire final bridge of the song is fantastic

"How did I think that we could always stay the same? We'd laugh hand in hand, making up dumb names And if I Could pick the coward's thing to I'd take the fiction over truth"

"What I gave up didn't matter anyhow So many years ago why's it coming back now? And if I Could pick the coward's thing to do I'd take the fiction over truth"

The fiction over truth, simply amazing. Also i love that in the description they jokingly called this song "Am i lamenting or am i resenting" like yeah that really sums up Kazui really well

Harrow: Ok so remember how i mentioned two days ago that i wanted Kotoko to get Undead Alice as her cover this trial? Well this cover was the main reason i came to that conlusion. It honestly gave a very different perspective on her character and it showed me a side of her i didn't even consider. It's because of this cover that i realized what many lyrics in the song actually meant, i'll compare them:

Cover

"Now that I'm prowling through the haze and Crawling through this maze I Can't go back to who i was

Feeling myself fading Burdens i've taken Weigh me down but drive my soul to go on

The evil out there I'm sickened to the core Pick a poison that i've done before"

Original

"Becoming light-headed again, it all becomes crazy

The normalcy sought for, Fading away, Everytime death comes The soul moves forward

I hate all the evils in this world, I feel like I’m about to break The surrounding net covered with poison"

Cover

"Now when a soul is too far gone you do what you got to Put it out of misery

"I'll never do it again" "I didn't mean to do it!" Even when I catch them I just can't win"

Original

"Shall we replace the poor soul, and the miserable delusion

“I didn’t mean to offend”, “I won’t do it again” How many wins in a row?"

Like comparing these lyrics i realized that "the normalcy sought for" and the "poor soul" Kotoko is talking about isn't refering to another person or the evils she's trying to get, they're refering to herself. She's lost herself and abandoned what the concept of justice meant for her in order to catch the people she's hunting, and the "pick a poison" line in the cover drives home the point of her using the bad things she's done before to complete her goal.

These lyrics really make the theme of her storyline being revenge even more clear. And the final bridge of the song as well

Cover

"When I was young HARROW HARROW Why can't I let it go? All of this weight, all of this hate If not for them what can hope for?

The moon is full HARROW HARROW I bare my fangs into a grin and I know how I can win"

Original

"Newly born “HARROW” “HARROW” It’s ok to dislike, right? Losing it, losing it, What should I hope for

Goodnight “HARROW” “HARROW” Laugh and I can get to like myself"

The lyrics here made me realize that throughout the song she expresses her doubts with what she's doing. She's using the things the people she deems as "evil" have done in her favor to get what she wants. She believes this is the only thing she can do but doesn't want to admit to herself that she's the same as those people if she uses the same methods they have, so she covers it under the excuse of this being "justice" and tells herself that this is for the better of everyone and that she's actually helping all those poor weak victims who can't protect themselves. She can't admit that she's doing this out of a sense of self-satisfaction and to make herself feel better, so she uses "justice", a concept that she considers corrupt and dead, and uses it in her favor, to disguise what she's doing as being the "right" thing to do, which is represented by the wolf's skin seen at the beggining of Harrow coming back to life once Kotoko looks at the audience.

Kinda similar to how Mahiru fogave Kotoko for what she did by thinking: "Kotoko was doing what she believed in and what she thought was right for her so if i admit that what she did was wrong it'll be like admitting that what i believe in and what i was doing was also wrong", Kotoko probably thinks: "If i admit that what i'm doing is for myself and my own satisfaction and not for justice and to protect other people then it'll be like admitting that i'm the same as those people who do evil". She's killed and buried any doubts she may have had with all her vigilante work because she doesn't want to deny herself, she won't allow to doubt herself anymore because if she does then everything she has dedicated a big part of her life will seem meaningless.

Which why i believe Undead Alice would fit her really well especially in this trial. Especially as a follow up to Anti Beat, which imo touched more on Kotoko's doubts and frustrations with what she was doing, and Undead Alice could showcase her slowly convincing herself more and more that she's in the right and that she shouldn't doubt so much.

"“Live by feeding on me, since you can’t die even if you want to” Everyone except us is crazy, even though your echo can be heard by everyone

Every time I ask for ideas to hurt myself, I breathe in happiness and breath out poison The ideal junkie, doesn’t it feel good that only the two of us are normal?"

She's using ideas and methods that she considers bad and corrupt under when other people use them but she's using them in her favor as well, and she can't admit that what she's doing is wrong, so these things are ok if she uses them against those who do evil. But even if she revives that dead wolf skin, it was still the same wolf to begin with.

"The disease that makes me want to hide wanting to see you, an overflow of a LOW mood because I can’t see you

They ended up becoming close, this is torture Starting to hate the butterflies, please die before I kill you"

"The instincts of being good, and the fat of being bad, They ended up becoming close, this is torture Superficial actions have become a habit, I’m dead before I kill myself"

These two lines could highlight her contradicting stances. Her need to deliver justice clashes with the methods she's using, so she kills all these doubts so that they don't weigh her down, which is also highlighted with the main bridge of the song

"It’s ok to live for yourself, It’s ok to cheat a little It’s ok to break it, it’s ok to be scared

Let’s bury this cowardly love here, Let’s stop and forget this

It’s easier to hate But it’s ok that you chain me down with your love"

It's ok if she uses underhanded methods to get what she wants, it's ok if she uses the same methods the people she's trying to hunt have used, she's doing it for a good cause after all right?

Right...but even with all of this and with how much i may dislike Kotoko, this next part of the song could especially highlight a part of her that she doesn't really show much

Undead Alice

"I thought we would be able to keep dreaming together, just like this But what did your smiling face look like again?

It’s an illusion to think that everything will go back to how it was after saying bye bye

This is pretty painful, slice open the chest and crush the heart"

Harrow (Kingsleigh cover)

"Now that I'm prowling through the haze and Crawling through this maze I Can't go back to who i was

Feeling myself fading Burdens i've taken Weigh me down but drive my soul to go on"

Harrow

"Becoming light-headed again, it all becomes crazy

The normalcy sought for, Fading away, Everytime death comes The soul moves forward"

She's dedicated so much of herself to this hunt and her justice that it seems she's lost herself. Thinking about this more i am reminded of the Clock Over Orquestra collab comics. Which i think is important because that's the only time we ever see Kotoko genuinely smiling. For once when she's not thinking about her ideas of justice or her plans for revenge she's having fun, she's doing something she likes: excersising, and she's genuinely having a good time, and it just makes me think that...maybe this the side of herself Kotoko lost. She's killed and buried all her doubts about what she was doing, and using them to fuel her hunt. Her "normalcy" has faded away the moment she decided to revive that wolf. Now she can't go back to who she was, even if she misses how she was, she's killed that part, she's buried that other her, she's done all of this for her goals, and if she doesn't achieve them then all the she's discarded, all the time, her morals, her regret, her self, all of that...would've been for nothing.

Anywayyyyys it's kinda weird how long this got but um. Yeah. Please go listen to Kingsleigh's covers

[scintillyyy]

I can’t believe I had followed you this long without realizing you had a whole >100k word fic you were working on. I spent the past few days reading My Baby, You are a Gift, One I Will Cherish.

Your writing is honestly so amazing. I can’t remember the last time I read something that long from start to finish in such a short time. The characterizations, the reinterpretation of canon events; so many things were just incredible. It really shows how much work and care you put into it.  

It’s so nice to have a story that puts so much effort into fleshing out a character like Janet Drake. Was there anything in particular that inspired you when you were writing her?  

hahaha, yep, that's me! that fic is my baby lol. thank you, i get very bashful about my writing lmao. im glad the characterization had been decent, i'm always so worried about that. anyways, this answer might get a little long so i'm putting it under a cut lol

as far as anything in particular that inspired me? uhhh, well i guess i'll have to go into something that you're basically almost never going to see me talk about ever on the internet if i can help it so i'll still keep it vague-ish: i actually have a young child of my own. (i mean. if it wasn't super obvious already. people usually don't get into attachment science on a whim. they do it because it's 4:37AM and someone has only slept in half-hour increments since 11:30PM and they've been crying off and on for the past 2 hours desperately hoping that the someone will just fall asleep for 2 hours please and all they do is research everything about parenting obsessively because that's the absolute only thing they can do-). so i have spent a lot. and i mean a lot of time in parenting spaces. i'm part of my local area moms group in all their glory (they're very, uh, special), and i personally know a lot of other parents, and i'm basically immersed in a very interesting and complex culture (marriage and parenting culture). and i have seen my fair share of conplex, not great marital dynamics. and now that i have a kid that's what the majority of my patients talk to me about, so i get to hear a lot about different views and experiences of parenting from a lot of different viewpoints.

so anyways after the batman came out and my husband and i went on a date night to go see it, i ofc got the itch to get back into reading dcu fanfics and comics after not doing it for years since the nu52 (i also saw that they rebirthed tim's original history back, so i forgave dc a tiny bit), so i got myself the dc app so i could re-read all my beloved post-crisis comics. and it was a nice hobby to pick up again because it was very easy to pick up and put down in 20 minute increments and work around, you know, child care. i was devouring all the most popular fics (which 90% are fanon, lbr) while re-reading old storylines, and while the absolute disconnect between fanon and canon was fine for me at first because it's all fiction and i really didn't care that much, i eventually started to personally get a bit...discontent at fanon in general and the fanon drakes, especially janet (but jack too. like it or not, he does have an established characterization!). like. i read the comics!! she wasn't necessarily a great parent by any means, but the five panels she got prior to being fridged for tim to officially become robin basically showed her being physically affectionate, caring, and generally supportive of her son. who was this weird, cold woman who never once held her son and didn't care about his well-being at all?? she was unrecognizable to me. and as i started to make my way through post-crisis, i also became a bit mad at dc for killing her for tim's character and then basically making her a non-entity that barely got mentioned. despite her failings, tim was legit devastated when she died (and he later said he can't let himself drown in his grief for her--he clearly must have loved her so much) and then they did nothing with it. what was their relationship?? who was she?? why was she a generally loving mother yet left with jack?? did she think tim was okay?? what were she and jack constantly arguing about?? why did jack say to tim that his mother wouldn't want them to be so far apart?? did she maybe have some misgivings about traveling, did she not necessarily like being far away from tim?? how does this woman become the mother she does?? what were her intentions?? she deserved to have more character development in my mind! why does this woman basically get flattened into the worst mother ever? i know a lot of imperfect mothers who are in complex marriages and are just trying and not always succeeding. what exactly did that look like to me? how do i marry the two ideas?

another thing that interested me immensely was the idea of a difference in perception from tim and from his parents regarding tim's childhood. obviously, we know tim's pov. but what did his parents think? did janet think everything was going fine?? did they have a rosier picture of tim's childhood than he did? and thus, the first fic was born. me blathering for 27k words trying to showcase janet as a parent who was trying her best, who was semi-isolated by life circumstances, but was simply unable to balance work, kid, marriage and was unintentionally making tim feel abandoned by her, something she never would have wanted if she had realized. and that was going to be it.

and then i got sad about her, because janet as i view her (i like to think a lot of tim's good traits come from her) i think would have done a lot better with a second chance with tim than jack did! like, she, as a mother, might have a very different response to the tragedies and loss of her husband and try to focus more on her son than jack did. she as a widowed mother would also face very different judgments than jack did (society is obsessed with the idea that boys need a father figure--so she'd probably be more likely to let tim hang out with bruce rather than jack fighting their relationship at first because "it's good for him" to have an older man he can look up to) she's more supportive in her appearances, after all, saying that tim could be just like dick when he grows up. i think that she'd find out a lot sooner. and i think her surviving wouldn't have changed any of the big events, and i became obsessed with the idea of "but how would she deal with this canon event vs jack". she is, after all, a different character who deserves her own internal feelings and motivations. the drakes weren't great, but i don't think they're that irredeemably bad. and i think tim would want them redeemed too!

and nobody else was writing the canon-but-with-janet fic in my head that i couldn't stop thinking about, so i figured i'd give it a shot just in case there was one other person who felt the way i did and wanted to see it lmao.

anyways tl;dr a lot of inspiration comes from the fact that i am a mom and have spent way too many hours dissecting parenting in my head and the fact that i know a lot of moms who are very complex, imperfect humans and i just like stories about motherhood and allowing mothers to be nuanced and to redeem themselves.

[mortuarywriting]

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart? (either that you've written or you've read)

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Oh jeez. Action can be hard! Lotta the people I write for think fights aren't meant to be so drawn out- people get sloppy so it turns to stamina over skill and that's a different consideration- so getting across the snap decisions with the fluidity of someone who has spent their lives fighting for a living and has done a damn fine job doing it? Who has a wealth of skills in multiple varieties and facets? Hard. Rewarding when it comes together though.

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart? (either that you've written or you've read)

Oh so fuckin many over the years, I had one I'd read whenever I needed a good cry for years but it got deleted. :((

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Uhhh for the below reason I guess I'll choose Ghost! Which. Man is basically entirely headcanon but hm I think the man has a horrible actual eating schedule. Like between worrying about eating as a kid and how he won't show his face these days I think he doesn't eat half as much as he should, squirrels food away Just In Case - more a habit left over than actually technicallt needing it? Though he does snack through all the fuckin odd hours of the night given half a chance and insomnia. There is no consistency but inconsistency. When he eats he tends to put a TON away at once given half a chance. Also don't think the man would reasonably sleep for like. 8 hours in a row. Trained himself into microsleeps by necessity probably just down for ~2 hours get back to it take another ~2 hour nap a bit further down. Does concerningly well on 36+ hours no sleep.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

What I call my "wildly self indulgent fic" includes poultry, shocked 141 members, fun banter, me being upset at Floorplan decisions and playing god to suit my narrative needs, self indulgent choices (hence name) for mundane dreams (ie- an affordable house. Furniture choices. Things like that), reader who is a Giant Fuckin Video Game Nerd because I never see that and be the change you wanna see and all that, fat reader for the same aforementioned reason, a hint of Ghost Distribution system for flavor but its wrapped in another trope like it's peanut butter and you're pilling a dog

[finalgilmoregirl]

Prompt 13-playing with the others fingers for Jess Mariano please?💕

no problem, i hope you like this!

you can send in a jess blurb request with a prompt from this list!

"playing with the others fingers" jess mariano x fem!reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

hanging around luke’s when jess was working was one of your favorite pastimes. and one of jess’s too, because not only did he have a nice distraction to keep him from working but when he was faced with an “annoying” customer, he’d see you sat at the counter and his irritation would almost immediately dissipate. 

jess looked at a clock on the wall and groaned when he saw the time: 3:09pm. almost two hours left in his shift after what already felt like a million. he looked away from the clock and towards where you were sat, reading a book you had brought with you. you looked so at peace in the midst of the busy room.

his daydream was cut short by the sound of a customer's voice.

"hey uhhh, are you gonna give me my plate?"

jess rolled his eyes as he turned back to return to the original task at hand and set the plate down in front of the customer without another word. after glancing around the diner for a second and deeming it alright to go without him for a few minutes, he walked to the counter and stood opposite to where you sat, now scribbling a note on the side of the page you were just reading.

"could i get you a refill, ma'am?" he said slyly, leaning his elbow on the counter as he continued to admire you.

you chuckled at him, "no thanks, i'm still working on this one." you replied, holding up your half empty beverage that jess had just refilled twenty minutes earlier. "attending" to you was always his favorite excuse from actually working.

"then can i get you anything else? some fries? maybe a sandwich? it's on the house." he smirked.

"its most definitely not on the house." luke announced as he emerged from behind the kitchen curtain. "and what are you doing standing around for? we have customers waiting."

"no we don't." jess scoffed before turning to see five people who had suddenly appeared at the door in the two minutes he had spent talking to you.

"you should probably go." you spoke, looking between the group and him.

"yeah yeah whatever, so what do you wanna do after this?" jess changed the subject, showing no interest in being any help to the patrons of his uncles restaurant.

"hmm i don't know, but i was thinking of checking the music shop to see if they had that cd i was telling you about," you suggested. "does that sound okay?"

"sounds perfect." jess responded, grabbing hold of one of your hands. he swiped his thumb over the smudges of ink that accumulated over them from your writing and continued, "maybe after we can go to the lake and-" jess' plans were interrupted again by the sound of luke's voice.

"jess seriously!" he pleaded.

"in a minute!!" he yelled, and continued playing with your fingers, completely ignoring his uncle's shouts. you laughed, releasing his warm hands and playfully shoving his shoulder for him to get back to work.

"just go!" you giggled at his pouting, "i'll be right here when you get off."

"you better." he winked, leaving to finally return to his duties.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

have a good day or night. <3

[dollslayer]

Charity Case

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU, enemies to lovers

Summary: You loathe Bucky Barnes and his cocky attitude but you find yourself doing him a favor. Is he really as insufferable as he seems?

W/C: 3,830

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, uhhh kissing, that's it!

A/N: Here it is! My entry for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k challenge!! My quote was "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?" (in bold). I love the Heathers so I'm excited!! Hopefully I did this prompt justice. As always, if you liked it please reblog/comment! Cheers! I do not consent to my work being reposted/translated on any platform.

Main Masterlist

____

Steve was running late again. You try not to chew your nails off in frustration but he’s definitely testing you. This is the third time in the last two weeks that he’s late to meet you. When he hasn’t been late he’s cancelled all together. Always with a half-ass apology of ‘Bucky needs me’. As if.

You’ve been friends with Steve since your freshman year creative writing class when the only open seat was next to him. Ever since that first day you two had been close. But not as close as him and Bucky. Childhood friends attending university together, thicker than thieves.

You always felt like Bucky was maybe a little jealous of the friendship you and Steve have. Maybe you’re a little jealous too but you’re almost positive Bucky is more jealous of you than you are of him but that’s beside the point. On top of his jealousy Bucky was just annoying. He had a girlfriend but he was always flirting with every girl he met, yourself included. Not to mention he was cocky as all hell.

Steve vouches for his character, swears that it’s all an act and he’s actually very sensitive underneath but you don’t buy it for a second. If you were his girlfriend you’d have dumped him a long time ago.

You don’t have time to dwell on your annoyance too much because Steve is rushing through the doors of the coffee shop. He looks around for you and when he finally finds you the look on his face is relieved. As he gets closer it’s clear that he’d been running to get to you in time. He’s sweaty and a little out of breath and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you’d have found it endearing that he ran here.

“There you are,” he huffs out, “I’m so sorry, I was with Bucky and I lost track of time.”

You purse your lips and hand him a napkin which he takes with a gracious nod before wiping the sweat from his brow. You hand him the iced coffee you’d ordered for him too. The ice is slightly melted from sitting there but he looks so refreshed to be drinking it.

“Figures” is all you say with a huff. If he hadn’t been doing it so often you would’ve been a little kinder about it but you were just irked.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Nat just dumped him, he's been having a hard time” Steve explained.

“Is it because he flirts with anything that moves?” You scoff.

Steve scoffs in return “He does not! He’s just… outgoing. But no, they had their own problems.” You raise one eyebrow at him. “Okay the flirting had something to do with it but there’s a lot going on there.”

“Whatever, let’s just study for this exam while we can”.

____

You and Steve spent the next two hours cramming for your midterm together. Things were going well and you’d nearly forgotten that you were mad at Steve in the first place. Nearly.

You were so deep into your notecards that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. A voice that could grate on only your nerves. A voice that if it didn’t belong to such a bastard, might even be kinda sexy. The voice breaks your focus completely when it calls out.

“Hey, Steve, are you done already or what? Oh hey, what’s up, beautiful?”

You set your notecards down on the table maybe a little harder than you should. You shoot Steve a glare because you thought it would just be the two of you. Really? You cut in before Steve can answer his friend.

“No, Bucky, he’s not. Can we help you?”

He smirks, giving you his full attention. He knows he has you now, knows you took the bait and he’s goaded you to the point of backtalk. He pulls up a chair to the table and wedges himself tightly between you and Steve. The sound of the chair legs scraping the floor as he scoots closer to you rings in your ears and makes you cringe. You look at Steve again only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, me and Stevie boy here have plans later. Gonna do some gaming and order a pizza, really embracing the bachelor lifestyle.” He raised his eyebrows at this and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard Nat dumped your ass, actually, is that true?” You asked with a fake sweetness.

“Why, you interested?” He rebuffed.

You bristled at his quick response and muttered your annoyance under your breath. You chose not to respond. Instead you decided to address Steve.

“Steve, I didn’t realize that you had plans”

“Oh… yeah, loose plans…” He answered distractedly while pretending to be reading a text on his phone.

You decide to call it a day. You were getting seriously fed up with Steve’s passive behavior in all of this. Thankfully you didn’t have much to pack up, so once you slung your backpack over your shoulder you looked up at the pair to bid them goodnight.

“Well, Steve, this was… enlightening. Bucky, eat it. Goodnight fellas, have fun with your ‘bachelor lifestyle’” You said with air quotes. Turning on your heel you left before either could respond.

____

You had left the coffee shop that evening pretty upset with Steve. Of course it’s fine for him to have other friends but lately it was like he only cared about Bucky and all of your plans took a backseat to theirs. You decided you weren’t going to be the one to text Steve first, since he was being a bad friend. He could be the one to initiate plans.

He did just that when he caught you in the hallway after your midterm a week later. He jogged up to you once again and tugged on your sleeve to get you to stop.

“Hey, how do you think you did? Bet those notecards paid off, right?” He half-joked. He looked sheepish. Nervous almost. You figured it was because of what happened last time you met.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ! I’ve never been so grateful for little pieces of paper.” You scoffed. You decided to keep it light between you. You were still upset with him but his tone leads you to believe he was gonna apologize.

“Right?” He laughs nervously, “So listen, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately… Maybe we could get something to eat at Nick’s?”

Nick’s was the local greasy spoon on campus and they had the best breakfast food you’d ever had. You eyed him suspiciously but accepted.

“Alright, but you’re buying. And there better not be any visitors!” You add as you bound down the hall ahead of him. He knows you mean Bucky and he’s not worried because Bucky won’t be showing up today. He’s more nervous about what he has to ask you.

____

You’re sipping on pop as you play with your straw wrapper. You look up at Steve and notice he’s fidgeting a lot more than usual.

“What’s up? Why are you so twitchy?” You question him.

“Me? I’m not twitchy! I was just thinking that’s all” He quickly defends himself.

“Well that was the last midterm of the semester for both of us, I think it’s safe to say you can relax.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Steve concedes quietly.

You and Steve eat in near silence, neither of you mind though because it’s comfortable. You worked on your hashbrowns when you looked up and noticed that Steve had barely touched his food. He was still fidgety, he looked nervous.

“Hey, you’ve hardly eaten anything, what’s the matter?”

He looks a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught. Or like he’s about to come clean about something.

“Look, I wanted to say sorry I know I haven’t been the best friend lately with everything going on with Bucky. He really is having a hard time since the breakup y’know… he’s lonely”

“Right” You laughed, “I’m sure he’s soo lonely.” You rolled your eyes and picked up your fork.

“No really, he just needed a friend to be there. I think he does need to get back out there though.”

“With how smooth he thinks he is, I'm sure he’ll have a date by the end of the night. I wouldn’t worry about it, Stevie.” You responded.

“I’m serious! As much of a player as he comes off he needs to be with someone he already knows. He’s actually really sensitive.” You interrupted with another laugh. There were many choice words you’d use to describe Bucky Barnes but ‘sensitive’ is not one of them.

“But anyway, I was...kinda hoping you’d do me a favor…” Steve trails off.

Based on the conversation you just had you’re cautious. You eye him warily but motion for him to continue.

“Well, like I said Buck’s having a hard time and he needs to get back out there but he doesn’t feel comfortable hooking up with a stranger. I was thinking maybe.. You guys should hang out?”

Steve refused to look at you as he finished the question. The look on your face was a look of confusion and shock.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” you asked in disbelief. “I mean seriously, I’m nice but not that nice.”

“Look-”

“No!” You cut him off, “You know I can’t stand that prick. Also why would I want to put myself on the long list of women he’s probably tried to fuck? I don’t buy this whole ‘sensitive’ thing for a minute.”

“I’m serious, Nat kinda crushed his heart when she left. He acts cocky but it’s a front. I just think he needs to see someone to get it out of his system. You’ve got more in common than you think. Just hang out with him once. Don’t think of it like a date, just a really really big favor. Please?” Steve begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You. Owe. Me. So. Much”

“Really?” He asked hopefully.

“Really. But I’m not gonna bang him. Hard no on that” you said.

“Yeah, yeah of course! No problem! I’ll give Bucky your number!” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His hands were kidna clammy but you let him.

“Seriously, thank you. I know you think he’s some jerk but I promise he’s a good guy.” Steve adds, “A-and don’t think of it as like a date, even, y'know? I think honestly he could just use another friend. Think of how good it could be if we could all hang together some time?”

You shook your head and chuckled at his optimism while you stabbed another bite of your meal.

____

‘What’s up, sweetface?’ Gross.

‘Okay, sorry. Hi, how are you?’ Better.

‘I’m alright, you?’

‘Good. Steve tells me you’re a huge trivia nerd. Wanna go to Sally’s tn?’

‘It’s a date’ Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. Quick- say something that will deflect before he responds!

‘And since it’s a date you’re paying’ That’ll have to do.

‘Ugh fine. Here’s hoping you’re a cheap date at least. I’ll meet you there at 9’

____

What do you wear for a date with someone that you despise? It’s just bar trivia so it’s nothing special but somehow the jeans and flannel you’ve been wearing all day don’t feel like they make the cut. You rip your closet apart trying to find something before you settle on black skinny jeans and your favorite sweater with some boots. Casual but not too casual.

You spend the whole walk there dreading the night ahead of you. Knowing that you wouldn’t even have Steve as a buffer between you made the whole evening seem daunting. At least you had trivia to distract you. You decide to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt tonight for Steve’s sake. You try to remember Steve’s insistence that Bucky’s a good guy and you have a lot in common. We’ll see about that.

When you arrive at the bar you find Bucky already waiting for you at a high-top table with two PBRs and a shot of brown liquid. Please don’t let that be whiskey. He sees you coming and smiles that damn-his-good-looks smile at you while patting the open chair next to him. The closer you get you even see that he got the whiteboard already for trivia.

“Please tell me that’s not Jameson or Fireball” you greet him.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “Better - it’s Jack. Sorry, doll, but I already opened the tab. This is what we’re drinking” He nudges one of the shots closer to you and motions for you to pick it up. “Come on, we gotta start the night off right, bottoms up!”

Before you can gag at the thought of drinking whiskey you grab the glass and face him. You both knock your shots on the table before clinking them together and swallowing them in one go. You grimace at the taste and feel the warmth flow all the way down your throat. You quickly take a sip of your beer to rid yourself of the taste.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re grossed out.” Bucky coos at you.

You’re embarrassed and annoyed but it goes away quickly.

“Shut up, Barnes”

You give him a light shove and he pretends like he’s about to fall off his stool, making you laugh. For someone that’s only ever annoyed you he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of being likeable when it’s just the two of you.

“You ready for me to carry you through some trivia?” You joked.

“Hey, now! I know...stuff” he concluded.

“Mmhmmm, I’m sure you do. Don’t worry, I’ll answer the questions and you just sit there and look pretty” you reach over to pat his face lightly with a wink.

Bucky grumbles before taking another sip of his beer.

You settle in for a long night when the host announces the first round is starting.

____

You managed to steal the first round without breaking a sweat, second round was a little rocky until it came down to you and one other couple. You knew the third round would be tricky but the way Bucky was cheering you on you were determined. To no one’s surprise Bucky had been completely useless so far but to his credit he was trying. At least he was a supportive teammate.

Things were going well until the third round was announced: Old School Videogames. You didn’t know shit about old school videogames. Or regular videogames. The extent of your video game knowledge started and ended with Mario Kart.

When the third round was announced though Bucky hit the table in excitement and cheered.

“Woo! Fuck yeah!” He pats you on the shoulder, “I got this, don’t worry. I so fuckin’ got this!”

He was a few drinks deep but he was so confident and he was your only hope so you went with it. He looked like a little kid the way he was practically giddy.

“You had better! There’s some serious prize money riding on this round.” You said in warning.

“No, no. You don’t understand that I’ve GOT this. Your turn to look pretty, not that it’s gonna be all that hard for you, sweetface” Bucky grinned at you over his beer as he took another sip.

Your cheeks felt heated and you tried your best to hide it by taking another drink yourself. Bucky’s flirting has never worked until now. Must be the alcohol.

“Shut up, Barnes” you mumble.

“Y’keep saying that but what I really think you mean is ‘I love you, Bucky you’re so strong and handsome~’” He imitated in a high pitched feminine voice.

You shoved him for real and before you could say anything else the third round was starting.

____

Bucky wasn’t kidding when he said he had this. He had won the round in a clean sweep and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed. Who knew this man harbored so much videogame trivia? When the host handed you the prize money he just waggled his eyebrows as if to say See?

“I gotta hand it to you, Barnes, I had no idea you had that much videgame wisdom rolling around up there. The only videogame I ever play is Mariokart so I’d be toast without you.”

“Mariokart? That’s it?? No problem, doll. It was nice to contribute.” He chuckles at that.

You divvied the money up and handed him his half.

“Guess I’m not such a cheap date afterall, huh?”

He chuckled as he took his half from you.

“I’m gonna go pay the tab with our winnings, I’ll be back”

You picked up your phone while you waited for him to find some missed texts from Steve.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Are you guys doing okay?’ ‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m assuming you haven’t killed each other. Have fun, text if you need a ride home.’

You almost rolled your eyes at Steve’s insistence but found yourself smiling instead. You’d text him back when you got home.

Bucky was walking up to you once more and you smiled at him slightly.

“You said you’re good at Mariokart?”

“I didn’t say I was good at Mariokart, I said that I played it. Why?”

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could go back to mine and I could whoop your butt”

You weren’t going to say yes but now he was goading you and you took the bait without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re on, Barnes. You’re so, so on.”

His smile grew wider when he heard your response. With that he placed his hand on your lower back and ushered you out of the bar.

____

You played two tournament cups worth of Mariokart and Bucky had indeed whooped your butt. You don’t know why you were surprised, with how much gaming he and Steve do it’s no surprise he’s a natural. You still had fun though. Just when you were about to propose a third round Bucky got up and headed to the kitchen without a word.

He came back with two glasses of water and handed you one. He sat down on the floor next to you and you set down your controller.

“Here, drink up.”

You were taken aback a bit by the kind gesture but accepted the glass just the same.

“Thank you, I might regret saying this but, you’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable, Barnes”. You told him

He smiled and shook his head as he drank his water.

“Thanks, I guess”

“How come you can’t be like this all the time? When it’s just the two of us you’re so kind and you’re even… I don’t know, funny maybe. Why do you get all cocky whenever else I see you?”

He looked down into his glass at your comment and you watched his brows crease in thought.

“I don’t know, it just sort of… happens, whenever I’m around other people I don’t know that well. I don’t mean to be a dick or anything but it’s like I can’t help myself. People expect me to be a certain way and I can’t help but fall into it sometimes. Nat hated that about me, it’s part of the reason why she dumped me, actually”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about the breakup, too. I know you guys were together for a while.” Bucky only shrugged at this and downed the rest of his water.

“It is what it is. I’m ready to be over it, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I gotta say, you’re not so bad either when you’re not getting all defensive and in my face. You’re actually pretty funny”

Your turn to become flustered at a personal analysis.

“Thanks, I guess I don’t mean to be so defensive either, it's just my response to most other people. I feel myself slip into it and it can’t be helped.” You explained.

Bucky nods at you, not knowing entirely what to say in response.

“I like spending time with you” He says leaning closer to you.

You swallow thickly, not sure what to make of what you feel knowing his face is so close to yours.

“I… like spending time with you too. You’re not what I thought.”

“Me neither,” he shakes his head, “You’re something else.”

With that he leans his head closer to yours and you feel yourself close your eyes and move your lips to slant perfectly into his. You’re kissing Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes you can’t stand. That Bucky Barnes. You’ve decided that his tongue feels too good in your mouth to care now.

His hands come to frame your face and bring you in closer. His hands are warm and calloused but they feel like comfort. You can’t help but to melt. You moan into his mouth and it seems to spur him on. He pulls you into his lap and you let out a noise of surprise that’s muffled by his mouth on yours.

Your hands come to caress his sides and you take your time feeling every muscle and ridge. Your hands idly make their way under the hem of his shirt and his skin is just as smooth as you’d expect. He sighs into your mouth and it takes all of your strength not to fall apart right there. You feel yourself getting lightheaded and have to pull away for air. When you do you rest your forehead against his and the only sound is both of your breathing.

You finally brave a look at him and he has the softest smile on his lips.

“Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to get so carried away but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do that.”

This catches you off guard.

“You have? Wait, did you like me? But you flirt with everyone!” You explain.

“With you, I flirt with you. You just can’t stand me” he laughs out, “Nat dumped me for a couple reasons but that’s one of them she told me I needed to get my priorities straight and I gotta say, I’m thankin’ her for sayin’ it ‘cause she was right.”

You don’t know what to say or what to make of any of this. All you know is that you want to kiss him again, so you do. You grab him by the collar and pull him into you again. He lets out a startled noise but kisses you back all the same.

You don’t care what you used to think of Bucky Barnes and you don’t care about what’ll happen after today. Right now all you care about is feeling him in sync with you for the first time. You could live in this moment forever but right now will have to do.

[charlie-minion]

Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.  

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.  

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye). 

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).  

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

 The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.  

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

[triplexdoublex]

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting 💦

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

***************************

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling  the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?” 

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

*******************

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

**************************************

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is!  My girls always cum,” he smirks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you. 

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He  grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!”  you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling  out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.” 

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

[rodeoxqueen]

Stuck Thinking Of You-Vergil/Reader

TheLastCrusader Requested: Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end?

Dante’s Version:https://rodeoxqueen.tumblr.com/post/638040898096201728/stuck-thinking-about-you-dantereader

Read Both Versions on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187496

Warnings: Fluff, Romantic Comedy, Taking Care of The Twins, Vulnerability, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Characters Call Out The Writer for Her Lazy Writing

One Way To Dante's Heart Is His Stomach. For His Brother, It Is Not As Simple.

Slicing through groups of demons while twirling in the air, Vergil obliterated his enemies. He landed deftly onto the blood-soaked ground. His brother Dante had shot through another horde himself. 

After minimal time spent fighting, the infamous duo already prepared themselves to go home, a job well done. 

“You should join a circus for how much spinning and jumping you do.” Dante quipped. Vergil raised a brow. 

“With a face as hideous as yours, you would be an excellent freak show exhibit.” The elder twin snarled. 

Dante laughed, hands on his hips. 

“Oh please, I’m the prettier twin. My hairline hasn’t flinched, unlike yours.” Vergil stilled. 

“I’ll have you know-” Dante saw a demon Vergil had sliced into slowly raising its tail. It was spiked with various deadly purple needles swishing about. Disemboweled yet still alive, it hissed and whipped its tail. A whistle rang through the air as foot-long spikes flew through the air. 

“-Look out!” Dante quickly shot the demon, its head caving in like a rotten pumpkin. Vergil dodged the dart-like appendages, a mildly displeased look on his face. 

“You’re getting sloppy, Vergil.” Dante teased, shaking his coat of any poisonous darts. 

“If you weren’t so exhausting to deal with, I’d-” Vergil suddenly tensed and fell to the ground. He landed knees first before his torso and head slid onto the earth. Dante let out a breath, and then he wheezed out a laugh. 

“Oh my god, Vergil!” Vergil attempted to move from his embarrassing position, face down and rear pointed to the sky. 

“What on earth? I cannot move.” He felt numb as if he had lost control of his form. Had he missed a dart? 

Dante came around his brother’s kneeled over position. Right on his posterior, had a stray dart pierced him. 

“Poor Vergil, as if a stick up your ass wasn’t enough.” Vergil’s sounds of struggle were fruitless as his form was dumbly paralyzed. 

“Don’t you dare say it-” 

“jAcKpOt!” Dante wheezed and held onto his sword to prevent him from falling over and crying with laughter. 

“Help me at once, you oaf!” Vergil exclaimed. Dante wiped away tears of joy. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He vanished The Rebellion and gently kicked his brother to the side. Vergil landed on the dirt looking like he was in a fetal position. Dante continued laughing the whole way down the mountain, carrying Vergil over his shoulder. 

“This is incredibly undignified.” Vergil snarled. 

“Wait till (Y/N) finds out you got shot in the ass-” 

“You will do no such thing!” Vergil exclaimed. 

You were on the couch, reading a book when Dante kicked the door down. 

“Guess whaaaat!” He yelled, holding Vergil over his shoulder. He marched his way over to the beat-up sofa, gesturing for you to move over. You scooched to the end, Vergil was tossed onto the cushions. 

“Vergil, are you alright?” You asked, seeing how he refused to make eye contact with you. 

“Big brother here got jabbed by some demon. He’s not dead yet so I doubt it’s that bad.” 

Dante reached into his pocket, steadily taking out the needle that he took out of Vergil’s behind. 

He threw it like a toy dart and it landed on his desk. 

Vergil remained silent, simply biding his time before he could forget about his embarrassing ordeal. 

“Wouldn’t he be more comfortable in his room?” You asked, knowing Vergil always took to his room after a mission. Despite your many attempts to make conversation, he was quick to leave before any talk could be initiated. 

“Nah, I need you to keep an eye on him. I’m going to do whatever I want now that he can’t stop me.” 

“If you are going out and gorging yourself on those unhealthy sundaes again-” 

Dante made an evil laugh as he ran out of the shop. 

Vergil sighed. This was terrible. He watched as you examined the needle, opening your computer and a few books. 

Half an hour passed of pure silence, you flipping through books and seeing what on earth caused Vergil to stiffen up like a corpse. 

“Vergil, are you alright?” You asked again, seeing how still he was. 

“What does it look like?” He snapped. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed again. 

“My apologies. I am not very comfortable trapped in my own body.” You nodded. 

“Well, it says here that the demon that poisoned you could kill men in a second upon injection.” 

“Joy.” Vergil deadpanned. You chuckled at his expression. Vergil softened at your laughter. 

“Since you’re still alive, I’m guessing your demon side is working really hard to get all that toxic stuff out of you.” 

“The blood of Sparda will not wane to a petty demon.” He said lowly.

It wasn’t for an hour until Vergil felt his form begin to feel sensation. His hands barely twitched despite the sweat he built up from trying to move. 

Your demon side..

Vergil remembered your comment. A spark of genius hit him. If he devil triggered, he might be able to metabolize the toxins faster. He willed it within himself, grunting and trying to trigger. 

He could feel his senses slightly amplify as if his triggering process was truly forcing the poison out. Suddenly, the warm surge of his blood flowing became known to him. Yes! This was working. 

With more heaving and straining, he felt his arms slowly loosen from his sides and his legs straighten out. 

“Uhhh. Vergil?” Distracted, he felt his muscles tense again and as a final resort, his reflexes rolled him off the couch. The back of his head flared out in pain as he hit the floor.  He laid on the ground, a defeated blue devil. It was pathetic, he couldn’t even trigger his scales to come out. Grumbling, he noticed you standing near him, looking down with concern. 

“Do you need help?”

"It appears that I am stuck."

"Do you want some help?"

"I don't want your help, I’m fine."

"All right, then.”

"...."

“Are you sure you don’t want to be moved?” Vergil sighed and closed his eyes. 

"That..would be preferable.” 

You rolled up your sleeves, ready to lift him up. He smirked. 

“You should have just said so, silly!” You grin as you place your hand on his back and the pit of his knees. 

“I’m afraid I am not that light, surely lifting me would-” He stopped as you literally bridal carried him. 

“-be toiling…..” He flushed at close proximity of you. 

“How are you this strong?” He blurted. 

“The writer wanted to have a reverse damsel in distress scene. I will never exhibit this strength in future plot lines.” You said sweetly, looking at him with a smile. 

Vergil stopped, staring at your face. Although he was stone-faced as usual, his eyes drank in your wonderful features. It took him a minute to realize you had said something. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I was asking if you wanted to be sitting up or on your side.” 

“..Sitting upright would be fine.” 

You placed him on the sofa again. 

“Is there anything you want while you’re in this situation?” Vergil tried to shrug. 

“It’s fine. I will abide by my time.” 

“You don’t have to be bored, I can play something if you want.” 

“Such as what?” You pointed to your computer. 

“I have an audiobook subscription. If you like, I can play some William Blake poetry.” Vergil raised a brow. He had never been an avid user of technology. If he were to hear any recited poetry it’d be from his own whispers. 

“You also read Blake’s works?” 

“I know you do.” Oh, you thoughtful little sparrow. 

“That would be alright with me.” You were quick to type away on your computer to find a recording. Soon, a male voice permeated the air, reading off verses robotically. 

It was a bit of an awkward moment, Vergil’s continued stone face and you observed it gravely. The recording ended shortly as you paused it. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“Poetry should be spoken, not read off of like an instructions’ manual.”

“How would you do it then?” Vergil took his chance. You were not keen on working now, focused on him instead. 

“My book. It’s in my room. Retrieve it and I shall demonstrate myself.” He teased, a ghost of a grin upon his face. Damn this paralysis. 

You left, rounding up the stairs. 

You entered his room, making sure not to knock anything over. Not that you really could, the room was pristine. You easily saw the brown leather book on the dresser. The leather was well-worn and soft to the touch, a single page dog-eared. 

“So, you’re Mr. Poetry, huh?” You teased as you went down the stairs. 

“The one and only.” Vergil did not miss the old reference to Griffon, the dear bird you cried over. 

You made your way to the couch, sitting on the arm of the sofa. 

“Now which page?” You asked. Vergil stared at you.

“Just start from the beginning.” You obediently flipped to the first page. 

“So do you want to read it?” 

“How am I supposed to hold it up?” Vergil smirked at your sputters. 

“I keep forgetting!” You made your way over to him, choosing to sit on the floor by him. 

He cleared his throat. 

“I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow

And I watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears;

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine.

And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning glad I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.” 

Vergil’s voice had a timber, soothing lowness to his usually raspy tone. He was in the zone, eyes blank as he had read this millions of times. 

“It’s a nice poem. It’s a bit brutal though.” You commented. 

“It is.” 

This went on for some time, Vergil reciting while you observed and turned the pages for him. You stopped between to grab yourself and Vergil some water, giving him a blue bendy straw. As the clock hands went around, soon one voice grew the soft company of another. The crest and the trough of tones had embraced, two speakers and one poem. Eventually, you met the unique page from before. 

“The Garden of Love

I went to the Garden of Love.

And saw what I never had seen:

A Chapel was built in the midst,

Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

And Thou shalt not, writ over the door;

So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,

That so many sweet flowers bore,

And I saw it was filled with graves,

And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

And priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

And binding with briars, my joys ; desires.” 

You tried to copy Vergil, reading off of the page, and avoiding stuttering. The observer shakily held the harp of their own vocal cords, the previous strummer lounging and watching the words take flight above his blue-eyed gaze like flittering sparrows. 

By the time you were finished with the last verse, you turned to see that Vergil’s eyes were directed at you. It’s too bad you didn’t know they were upon you for some time. You gently grazed the dog-eared page. 

“Why did you mark this page?” 

“It is a poem that reminds me of another.” You were slightly puzzled but smiled nonetheless. 

“Well, they’re very lucky to be beheld, I guess.” Vergil stared at you, his eyes bewitched to your profile. With the slope of your face, Vergil swore even the most wonderful sculptors could not capture you to your truest attractiveness. 

“I am luckier to have been in their company for the last few hours.” He rasped. You turned your face, a privilege Vergil wished he could have, to prevent from seeing a negative reaction from you. 

“Me?” You softly said. The book was forgotten, landing on Vergil’s chest. 

“I understand I do not speak to you as much as I wish. I am not as socially affable as my brother. But I do share my affections upon you, in words not of my own. In my most vulnerable, I find cherished company with you.” 

You were quiet. 

“If that’s not the case with you, I am in complete understanding. You are a kind person. You would do the same for my brother if he was in the same situation. I do not wish for this to be ill to our cooperation in this business-” 

“Say less.” You giggled, putting your finger on his lips to shush him. Vergil scrunched his nose as his ears turned red, had he said too much? Had he made a fool of himself? 

Instead, he had seen the color of pink, a shade even the finest roses could not bloom to, appear upon the apples of your cheeks. 

“I like you too, Vergil. I didn’t do all that for you to just be nice. I like getting to know you.” Despite his numbness, his heartbeat in his chest felt like the rain of an angry storm against the earth.

His chapped lips found the capacity to move. 

“Perhaps, when this wretched poison leaves my form, we may find time to do this again.” 

“I’d like that too.” Your eyes squinting with a diamond grin, Vergil made a noise of contentment. 

“It is a day I look forward to-“

“I had so much ice cream today!” Dante yelled as he walked into the shop again. 

“Whoops, you guys look like you were having a nice moment.” Dante winked at Vergil, who growled. 

“Oh hey, Dante!” 

Dante waved at you. 

“I got you guys some dinner since I know (Y/N)’s tired of dealing with shithead here. Vergil couldn’t cook for shit even when he was able-bodied.” 

“I can boil an egg.” Vergil bit back. Dante handed you some Asian takeout, still warm. 

“Don’t worry Verg, I’ll blend yours so you can drink it.” 

“It’s fine, I can help him.” You winked at Dante who waggled his eyebrows. 

The evening ended fairly well. You fed Vergil bits of vegetables and noodles while Dante read his questionable magazines. It was much too late to be going back home, so Dante threw you some blankets and pillows to stay the night. 

Although Vergil offered you his room to rest in, you shook your head. 

“Who’s going to keep you company?” Dante wolf-whistled before retreating to his room upstairs. 

“Leave us!” Vergil exclaimed. You laughed again. 

You turned off the lights and dodged random objects lying around in the dark. You found the familiar softness of pillows and your makeshift bed. 

Vergil fell asleep, feeling wanted. It was a warm sensation that spread to even his fingers, soft and supple. 

He didn’t even notice his hand had come loose and drifted to trace your cheek in both your slumbers. 

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

the special project

“Cross! We’re almost closing!” dream got closer to the actor that was sitting behind the scenes, a smile plastered on his face. He was holding his phone, and didn’t even look up to meet dream’s eyes-

“Hey- are you even listening!” dream pouted, and only then did cross’s eyelights met dream’s “Don’t worry. We can stay here a little longer- it’s not like the director likes to leave early!” his smile got a bit wider, but dream sat next to him, and looked over his shoulder- “…what are you looking at then?” dream wasn’t able to leave, not without cross at least, and he was getting curious; what could make cross ignore him so blatantly? Even memes weren’t so effective-

Cross suddenly nuzzled dream’s cheek, which made his face turn yellow as the other showed him his phone- the both sat in a more comfortable position, when dream finally read what was shown to him-

“It’s the reviews of the series! People are asking questions to both of us, and are speculating on the upcoming chapters- plus, they are even giving us compliments!” cross’s grin got wider-

Cross was pretty shy in person, so he tried his best to overcome that by acting, and meeting new people. though he was always so insecure about his acting skills, it didn’t stop him from entering both the underverse show and the dark cream studio- sure, it was a bit tiring, but he’s always enjoyed the times spent there, especially with dream, his best friend- though he considered him as more than that, he didn’t know how to ask him out, but the scenarios in the series was making things easier, considering they were both a couple in it-

Dream smiled- he was also happy to work with cross, and wanted to get a bit closer to him each day, though his brother was a pain very often- he swore to him one day that he’d snap next time he tried to get into a conversation between him and cross, not mentioning killer- though killer was the absolute opposite- cross and killer had been friends for as long as he remembered, and no matter how he denied everything, he was trying to hook them both together-

Even after dream’s protests, he was glad killer was trying to help, because he sure needed to-

“aww- how sweet of them! Wait- can I see some questions?” dream hummed, and cross huffed- “I dunno- they’re just some stuff about whether you like acting or not- the usual-“ he was obviously lying, so dream hopped on his phone as the other yelped in surprise- “h-hey! Give it back!” he jumped on dream, but the other laughed out loud- “oh come on! It can’t be this bad-“

He looked at the phone, but the questions and asks were all- about him? Dream blushed a bit, but cross snatched away his phone and huffed- “you’d get embarrassed anyway!”

Dream paused, what should he do to convince him? Well, teasing cross was always so fun, so he hummed- “okay- but how long will it take you to get off me-“ cross suddenly  realized he’d been sitting on the poor dream all this time, so his face got lit up with a purple hue when he finally got up- “s-sorry about that-“ he scratched the back of his skull, totally ashamed, but dream took the opportunity to mutter- “well- maybe now we can read the questions together- How about that?” he smiled, a tint of yellow on his cheeks- cross paused a second, then sighed- “we’re in for a ride-“

 They sat next to each other, trying to put the phone in the middle so it can be seen by them both. Dream felt his cheeks getting quite heated up- they weren’t usually this close to each other. on another note, if nightmare saw them like that, he’d do everything in his power to split them apart-

“Okay, first question: dream is this hot bastard on set, but how is he in real life?”

“pff- what is even this question?” cross snickered, dream only huffed- “well, how do you find me in real life then?” dream crossed his arms, but cross gave him a lazy grin and just answered- “well, I don’t think it really changes in person-“ “CROSS-“ dream pouted, and cross laughed out, but dream still continued reading-

“okay then- …oh- dream looks so good with heels, but does he like wearing them?” cross paused, awaiting his answer, when the other looked at him dead in the eyes and said- “anything to be taller than this bastard-“ cross busted out laughing, and dream continued-  “shut up you dummy- here is a question for you! Umm- are you scared of cows in real life-“ dream tried so hard not to laugh, but cross shivered- “people cannot understand how scary these creatures are- it’s nOT FUNNY to be almost eaten by a cow!” dream couldn’t take it, so he cried out- “ohaHA- I’ve already told you- c-cows are herbivorous- they eat grass and such- n-not skeletons!” dream felt bad to tease cross about something he’s afraid of, but cows cannot eat monsters, and that was a fact.

“ugh-“ cross pouted, then looked away. Dream paused, he wanted to say something, but just looked back at the other’s phone, and said- “…okay- here is a question for us both now- do you guys-“ dream couldn’t finish his sentence when he lost his eyelights- cross looked at him, wondering what was wrong about the question- “uhhh… okay, let me rephrase that! Mmm- s-so you guys are together in dark cream, but what is your relationship in real life-“

dream blushed, but tried to hide it- cross paused, then muttered- “well-“ if killer or epic could hear their conversation, they’d be cheering for him to finally ask him out- and if nightmare could hear them, he’d be running in too late, because cross inhaled silently and tried to let out “well, I would like to ask you out for this afternoon-“ cross’s face was getting very purple, but it was no match to dream’s- dream lost his eyelights again, and his mouth was half open. He dropped the other’s phone, and the other was lucky it landed on a carpet-

“u-umm- dream?” cross cursed himself- why did he just bring this up now! But dream whispered- “…okay- I’d love- I- I mean- we can go out together as soon as we finish some asks-“dream was so close to scream in happiness- he asked HIM OUUT! Cross chuckled nervously, but he took his phone from the floor, then continued-

“how is nightmare in real life-“ cross paused, then muttered- “I’m sorry dream, but I don’t know how you couldn’t notice how each time I previously tried to confess, he’d try to split us up” cross sighed, but dream laughed, almost maniacally- “ahaha- do you think I didn’t?!” cross turned around- “wait, you knew I liked you???” he was a bit surprised, but dream suddenly let out- “what- n-no- not really- I wasn’t really sure- but that idiot didn’t let me get closer to you!”

dream crossed his arms, but cross laughed out- “oh my- ahaha-“ they both chuckled for a little more, then cross tried to find another interesting ask when one caught his attention, though he didn’t voice it out- (what if cross tried to propose to dream on set? there is no way it’s not a good idea, maybe he can convince the director!) cross smiled, it was a good idea- but he wasn’t sure if dream was going to agree to it-

Dream yawned, it was getting quite late- “well- if you want to take me out somewhere, it’s time.” Dream stretched, and cross couldn’t help but think of how different he had become-

Dream used to be very sad when they first met, and had the appearance of a cute and innocent person, and he still is! But he was more confident in himself now; he finally looked… happy- so much more- he also looked more mature and hotter. Cross smiled, they both really changed from the first time they met, and he was so happy to take him out on a date, the person he truly admired.

“okay then, let’s go-“ he held the other’s hand, and dream smiled, and leaned on his arm a bit more, he wanted this to happen for so long-

 Thank god nightmare wasn’t here.

**************************

now now, if that was the special thing, it wouldn’t have took me about two or three months to get it done, right? well, that’s because it’s not the end yet!

remember the anons that asked you guys your sonas or oc’s reference to draw a while back? well thank you guys so much for waiting

it took me so long, and you guys still waited for me to finish this

so how about a bonus “writing” to celebrate?

The place I will talk about is always warm and welcoming, there’s a bunch of tea and cookies and some apples lying here and there, and after an event called “sweet day”, candy and cake was left stacked up like the tons of ask received every day inside the little mailbox. This place contains very interesting individuals whose presence contribute in the fun and enjoyment of the visitors and the creator himself. After being there for a while, you might notice why these people are quite special considering the relaxing atmosphere of this place;

*knock* *knock*

who’s there you might ask? Well it is-

“DAILY POSITYVITY OF COURSE!!”

“Please close the door behind you after you enter-“

“what door?”

the positivity was so strong that it shattered a galaxy and went to another universe searching for a worthy opponent- love senders and daily positive anons are very frequent here, and as their name might show you, they are responsible of giving enough motivation and positivity for the creators, and the destruction of most doors, windows, walls, universes, and being obviously chased by negative and suspicious people trying to prevent them from giving the creators positivity.

“AAAaaAaAa-“

some anons are still wondering why they are simping for characters while others already gave a very specific reason “LEEEGS-“ some are also wondering how did the creator made them so hot- only a superior brain can do so mind you- just kidding- everyone can do it if they give him good heels;

This place had different phases, and if I had to describe it to, it may look like this;

“wait- how about a cute ship?” oh- Fluffynight!”but what about killermare? “So how about a love triangle!” “And where do we put this scenario then-“ “wait- what if it was all a show like underverse studios- how would they make tentacles then?” ”Wait- tentacle, you mean S!D’s? Wait! let’s say- they have a mind of their own-“”wait- but-“”OH my- I wonder how these tentacles would look like if their possessor is a Greek god-“”whoa- and "whatifnightmareactuallysentcrosswhoismortaltokilldreambuthefellinlovewithhim?!”

“Um…what? “

Please take this as a very brief explanation- some of these subjects can last a day- or two or even a week if it is a generator of ideas, no matter how cursed, sweet or angsty they are.

Creators are very common in this place, they can be artists, or writers, though there might be more talented people, but they might had never talked about it- they might be musicians, composers, singers, and so much more, but who am I to say? Maybe there is one who’s reading this that can draw, or write, do both, or so much more- I just am saying that this place is filled with amazing people!

There are some people who considered that S!D and cross needed kids, which is funny because, there are now a lot of ship children laying in their arms- they can be twin babies, independent teenagers, cute cinnamon rolls, or a result of neglect or a curse- and those different types of children make a very good source of inspiration, and provide ideas for both artist and writers;

The creators deserves support- and people do help their work to be shared, and considering some had made commissions available, there was and will be more support for them, and that’s why I wanted to add those who had bought some hot koffees. I am very glad that the creators are receiving support, because it makes them happy and motivated, and that’s honestly what all of them deserve; support.

Finally- this place has the healthiest and pleasing aura I’ve ever felt- and has very unique characters that are daily sending questions, or ideas, or creations, and listing everything would take a lot of time, but every single one of them is as unique as the other, so fear not if I haven’t included more- because there is too much-

And thank you for reading this little writing- I didn’t think you’d actually read such a thing ,but to be honest, I actually never thought you’d ever read any of the writings I’ve made- I’ve never thought this will be the first thing I will be associated with, writing. Because I only write when I have art block, or when I have a very good idea, or if it’s something I don’t want to draw now and need to remember to draw in the future, but it seriously made me so happy when people actually enjoyed something I’ve made, and I want the creators that I most enjoy and so much others to feel the same thing- the happiness that someone thinks you’re good at something, that’s why it is the most silliest and the most interesting gift I can ever write to thank you zu, and everyone who supports her, and the creators I’ve seen there! Have a nice day/night ♥

******************

the people included here are

@zu-is-here​ ; i wanted to thank u zu, because i wouldn’t have written or submitted anything if it hadn’t been for you, and that’s because i didn’t feel like you were “intimidating”, and by that i mean you answer every litlle ask, and you’re being nice to everyone, and i just wouldn’t have found so much entertainment this year without you and your blog, and everyone in it

@help-im-a-gay-fish​ ; you were very nice from our very first interaction- your art has always been so simple and beautiful, especially the lineart which i envy you for- your ideas were always so amazing, and you have very attaching and unique characters, so with you my to do list is never ending, but that’s what i love about you the most

@kotikaleo​ ; your art is just plain GORGEOUS, and i couldn’t, i just couldn’t ignore it, because the vibes i get from this blog is relaxing, the ambience is calm, and everything you draw, whether it’s traditional or digital is a masterpiece that i find myself begging to have the same amount of talent (also, i’m so sorry for your persona, i totally messed it up i’m so sorry-)

@dragon-tamer-1​ ; honestly, i liked your unique style, and your oc- the way you keep supporting people is always so sweet of you, and even if we haven’t interacted much, i’ve always liked your art from the sidelines, and i hope you liked this gift

@rinnyisangy​ ; i won’t go too long, but your art is SO CUTE, the sketch book drawings were so sweet and nice; since i’ve seen you appear a lot on zu’s blog, and you looked like a nice person, i decided to draw your sona, because why not draw a cutie?

@bluepalleteuniverse​ ; i’m SO sorry for the sona- i used the old one because as i said, i decided to draw this piece one mid july, so i asked you pretty early, and , because i thought it looked cute, i drew it very fast- on the other hand, i cannot express how cute your art is- it’s always so nice to see you around, and the positivity you give is astonishing- please keep it up pal

@enixani​ ; now, you are SO talented, yet you believe you aren’t- and i’m here to tell you that you have such a detailed, beautiful art, and you deserve way more support for the work you give, and i hope you like this drawing (i tried your coloring- it feels nice)

@sociallyawkwardfirefly​ ; i was too shy to interact with you, but i wanted to tell you that your writings are amazing- and i can’t because even your art is- so please take care, and know that i love your style

@noveltale​ ; your au is cute, your art is cute, what more? but in case you wanted to hear something else, voila une autre personne qui connaît les souffrances de la langue française, et des difficultés de la langue anglaise, parce que oui, je parle Français aussi (bonjour blue!)

@silentsquidsinner​ ; can we just talk about this person’s beautiful characters? i think they are AMAZING and well written- and the beautiful artstyle only makes it better, so please take this gift as a thank u for your talent-

@ginganinja​ ; i still remember when you were pretty active on tumblr, and i kind of miss those days, but i wish you the best on your decision, and i’ll enjoy your art on instagram, because you’re still awesome there!

@star-gamerxox​ ; your writings are a very good source of inspiration, as well as your characters- i honestly thought that your writing style was pretty fluid and interesting, so i wanted to draw one of you kiddos- hope you liked it

@mimosifolia1528​ ; remember seafood tale? yeah- i loved your creations, as well as your dark cream kid, and thought your art was very special and unique, so i thought it was worth a shot drawing you persona (fun fact, you were the very first one i drew)

@seertale​ ; i liked how cool and chill you look, and i thought your oc’s and art was very sweet, not mentioning that you were my favorite to draw- (the rainbow blob on star’s oc) so thank u

@evaundertale​ ; your art and blog is amazing, so whenever i see your art, it stands out pretty fast, it’s just so recognizable, and i would love to compliment it by giving you this little gift

@shinechermont​ ; now, i wanted to tell you that whenever i visit your blog, the drawing you make always make me feel a bit better, because they are so simple, yet so sweet, and i LOVE ursula (and mirage of course) so seing art about them is always heart warming

also featuring the anons- 

DPA, blue, red, orange, green, purple, lavender, cyan, black, white, cow anon, and cookie anon (who was the one who brought cookies there ;)) 

this is getting long, but let me just say that i wanted to add way more people, like firebug, curse-of-tales, ari-cuno, jann and so much more, but i feel like i couldn’t touch this project anymore- medibang even crashed because the layers were too much- but i love you guys all, even those who i haven’t included here

((sorry if you changed your persona in the meantime, as i said earlier, some sonas were drawn before you even changed them, so sorry in advance (also, because this is three or so months old, the style is messed up, and there is some old art mistakes that i was too lazy and tired to fix)

this is getting too tall, but please thank you

this was writing anon- aka me, yuri <3

[allisonxmoynihan]

illicit affairs ~ a. turcotte

Requested: yes | no

Song: this series is loosely inspired on Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift (you can listen here!) 

Note: okay this is my first time writing in months and i’m kind of scared about it, but please let me know your thoughts, opinions, feedback, whatever! Special thanks to @hockeyhughes11​ for helping me with this and reading it as I wrote, you rock!

Word Count: 2663

“y/n,” his shaky voice whispers hoarsely on the other side of the phone.

“Hey superstar!” you cheer, an inevitable smile fluttering across your lips, as you turn the tv off so you could hear him better, pressing the phone firmly against your ear as if not to miss a thing he says.

You hear a faint scoff in the background, “wanna come over?” he slurs, sending the butterflies racing in your stomach like the low hum of his voice always did.

You slowly release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “not celebrating the big win with the boys? 3 goals and 2 assists and the superstar doesn’t want to party?” You joke with him while scrambling around your apartment searching for your sneakers and hunting for your keys.

You sense him smiling on the other line, “I got other things to attend to tonight, you know that,”

You feel your face grow hot as your breath hitches, “c’mon y/n, i’m dying to see you…” 

~*~

Work was an absolute blur, the grouchy morning rush of commuters flooded the coffee shop and it was nonstop brewing coffee and preparing breakfast sandwiches before they ran out the door to catch a train. You were thankful for the mid morning slump; middle aged women occupying tables and catching up on neighborhood gossip and reminiscing about their sorority days.

You look up from wiping down the espresso machine to see two boys, about your age, standing on the other side of the counter, wide smiles on their faces as they laughed with each other while sneaking glances at the menu.

“Hi, welcome to Aroma Mocha Cafe! What can I get started for you today?” You exclaim, a forced smile overtaking your face.

The dark haired boy steps forward, “hey, can I please get uhhh…” his voice trails off as he looks up at the menu before he looks back down, “uhh, the seasonal iced coffee?”

You smile, “sure thing, our seasonal flavors are lavender vanilla or salted caramel, which one can I get for you?” 

You watch his face as he contemplates which one, “oh, you can’t go wrong with salted caramel!”

“Alright, your total today is going to be $2.57,” The boy quickly takes out a $5 bill and instructs you to keep the change before moving over to the pick-up counter.

As you’re preparing the two drinks for the boys you can’t help but overhear the small fragments of their conversation you can make out.

“Bro, c’mon, just ask for her number,”

“Trev, I said no.”

“You’ve been…. All… you… Alex”

“No”

“I will then”

You put the drinks down in front of them, “enjoy! Napkins and straws are straight ahead by the door,”

As you’re cleaning up your station, the dark haired boy comes back up to the counter and you feel his eyes on you before you look up and smile, “can I get you anything else? Our seasonal scones pair nicely with the coffee,”

“I’m Alex,” he says awkwardly, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

You nod slowly, “that’s nice…”

“We should get dinner one day,” he suggests, and when he’s met with your silence and a blank stare he adds, “you know, cuz you’re cool.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but I really can’t,”

Alex nods, looking at the pastry display case for a few minutes, “well can I at least get your number?”

You notice a group of moms, the weekly book club group, walk in the door and head up to the counter. “Alex, I’m really sorry, but it just can’t happen,”

Alex nods, looking back up at the menu, “so, uh, how long you work here?”

One of the book club moms offers you a sympathetic smile as she turns to talk with one of her friends, “Alex, I’m sorry, but we have a lot of customers right now, so if you’re not go-”

“What, am I not a customer?” he interrupts, and you breathe out heavily in annoyance.

“What can I get for you?”

“A date,” he offers with a shy, boyish smile, his dimples becoming apparent.

You sigh, scribbling your number down on a piece of paper, “fine, but only because I want you to leave me alone.”

~*~

Cold, faint rain ricocheted off of the windows of your bedroom as you crawl onto Alex’s lap, his lips nipping at your neck bound to leave marks that you’d have to figure out how to cover the next day. 

His hands slide underneath your sweater and rest gently on your hip, “no one’s home, right?” he whispers, his lips vibrating against your skin.

You rest your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart pound against the skin, “we’re all alone baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once again.

He effortlessly lifts you up and lays you down on your bed, suddenly towering over you, “you know i scored the game winning goal today” He smiles cockily.

You look into his dark brown eyes, feeling a blush creep over you, “oh and how should we celebrate, superstar?”

He chuckles softly before leaning down and kissing down your jaw, slowly removing your shirt from your body, “i got a few ideas in mind,”

Within seconds he’s on top of you, one hand kneading your breasts, the other slipping underneath your leggings and collecting your wetness. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding your leggings and panties down your legs as your legs fall open for him and he begins to kiss down your abdomen.

You writhe underneath him and let out a gasp as his tongue licks up your folds. You run your hand through his luscious locks as he picks up his pace and begins to work at your clit. You buck your hips up as you moan out with pleasure.

“So good for me you pretty girl,” he grumbles against your dripping pussy, slipping three fingers into you, his calloused fingers pumping in and out of you. You felt a knot forming in your stomach and knew you were close.

“Alex, please, faster,” you moan, only alex lifts his head and kisses back up your torso before placing a sloppy kiss to your lips, sucking on his fingers. 

“I want you babygirl,” he mumbles as your hands fumble with the zipper on his jeans, helping him slide out of his boxers. Without any warning alex pushes into you, his thrusts harsh and fast. The room is filled with the sound of both your moans, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. And when you both reach out your highs he slows his pace to drag out your orgasm, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he hums, sliding off the bed and redressing before looking over at the clock.

You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, bringing your blanket up to cover yourself as Alex approaches the door, “I’ll be seeing you princess,”

You wave sheepishly at the closed bedroom door that he just escaped behind, sighing at how foolish you are, how you would consistently drop everything to be there for him. You think back to the hundreds of other nights spent like this, the two of you having your moment, and him bolting as soon as he decides it’s over leaving no trace behind. 

You sit in your dark room, convinced alex does love you deep down, that he’s different and not the kind of guy that shows up on your doorstep just for sex. But you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that sometimes, you felt as if you were a pawn in his game. 

You think back to your first “date” with him, how you were defiant and didn’t want to go, but how 10 minutes quickly turned into an hour and that hour was suddenly six. He made you feel special, like you were on top of the world, like you could be something more than just a barista in a busy city. You reminisce about the time you and alex once dreamt up a future together: a small cottage in minnesota, three kids running wild in the yard after a long day at the beach. You wipe away tears that happen to fall as you realize what you’ve been trying to fight for months: you were in love with him, and you could only hope that you actually meant something to him.

~*~

The crackling noise of the firewood and the light tunes of your favorite band filled your living room where you and your best friends sat binge watching the latest reality tv episode. You lean forward to grab an oreo off the plate on the coffee table, breaking it in half and eating the side without cream first.

“You know the guy I matched with on tinder the other night?” maddie asks, taking her phone out. You and christine hum in unison.

“So, i was curious and went to look at his instagram, and…” her voice trails off as she scrolls through her phone’s home screen, “here i’ll just show you.” 

You lean back on the sofa, running your hands through your hair, “how bad is it?”

“You really gotta get better taste, if i see one more picture of a guy holding a fish i’m going to lose it,” Christine laughs, grabbing an oreo for herself.

“Oh shit,” maddie whispers

“What?” you and christine ask impatiently

“Hey, uh, y/n, isn’t this the guy from the coffee shop? Mr. I want a date and I refuse to leave this shop until I get your number?” she laughs, and you instantly reach to take her phone from her hands desperate for any opportunity to see him, but when you see the picture your face falls and you can feel the color drain. “It was on my explore page…” maddie adds, reaching for her phone but you turn away continuing to look down at the screen.

There he was. Your superstar. Wide grin, dimples present, his hair still wet and curling loosely at the ends, his button down shirt wrinkled and exposing his upper chest. His arm wrapped tightly around a girl’s tiny waist, her pressing her lips firmly against his cheek, cupping his face in her perfect hands. 

You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, scoffing as you toss maddie her phone back, “so? He was just a normal customer, never even took me on that date he insisted on” you lie, turning your attention back to the tv.

Your mind is racing and the conversation between the other girls is drowned out by the flood of thoughts running through your mind. Alex was so much more than just the coffee shop boy, he meant everything to you, he was the only person that could make you feel whole and complete. You hated being a secret to him especially when he consumed every single one of your thoughts, you wished you could be the girl that meant something to him, the one to wear his jerseys at his games as you cheer him on, the one who goes out with his teammates after a big win, the one who gets to go home with him for the holidays to meet his family and fall in love with them for raising the man of your dreams. But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t her and you never would be her.

Later that night you go to alex’s instagram, and it’s as if you got fifty punches right to the gut all over again. Alex was happy with her. Hannah. That was her name. Alex was happy with hannah. You continue to scroll down his page and see that hannah first appeared on his page six months ago. The two of them pressed up against each other in the dim light of a bar, him leaning down and kissing her cheek. You laugh sadly at how stupid you were thinking that what you had with him was real and that you were anything more than someone to help fill a void. Your phone lights up with an incoming call, alex’s name appearing.

“Hey superstar!” you cheer, forcing a smile.

“Hey you,” he grins, “i was just thinking about you actually, can i come over?”

You say yes without hesitation, and that’s when you realize that you would continue ruining yourself for his sake as long as it meant he was going to stay in your life. You’d do anything to make him stay.

~*~

Work was a hassle, the coffee shop getting slammed with the drop of the holiday drinks, the city streets constantly bustling with tourists and holiday shoppers trying to find the best deals. You were excited to finally have a weekend off to just relax and have no worries. You approach your apartment door and smell the savory aroma of food cooking, and you're confused since you live alone.

You cautiously push open the door, peeking into the kitchen as a smile blossoms on your face. “Alex!” you cheer, running up to hug him as he peppers your face with kisses. 

You pull away from him, setting your bag on the kitchen table, “what are you doing here?”

He turns his attention back to the stove, “well, i know you’ve been stressed with work and school lately, so I thought i’d do something nice for you,”

Your heart swells and you begin to feel all warm and fuzzy, “i don’t deserve you,” 

He laughs, “go change and get comfy, dinner will be ready soon. It’s your favorite and I also brought your favorite movies.”

You smile to yourself as you walk into your bedroom, putting on your pajamas and walking back out to see alex has prepared two identical plates, “ready?” he asks, a boyish smile on his face.

The night is filled with the two of you snuggled into each other’s sides on the couch, laughing at all the same parts of the movies, crying at other parts, making jokes here and there, and planning a getaway trip to a small coastal town. After three movies, and the sun long gone, the soft beat of his heart begins to lull you to sleep.

“You sleepy princess?” he asks softly, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your bed.

You’re half asleep as he tucks you in and presses a kiss to your forehead, “sleep well baby”

You reach your arms out for him, “you’re not going to stay with me tonight?” your voice is sad, not wanting this picture perfect night to end.

You hear him laugh as he runs his finger up and down your hand, pressing a light kiss to the top of it, “not tonight princess, i’ll call you tomorrow though.”

“Promise?”

“I cross my heart and hope to die,”

“Good,” you mumble, turning over and getting comfortable.

There’s a long silence and you know he’s still in the room since the hallway light is peeking into your room. And you can’t help but fall asleep happy, thinking that life is finally going right and you have the best guy by your side.

“I love you…” 

You hear the floorboards shift under his weight and just like that he’s escaped into the abyss of the night, just like he always does. 

~*~

“So you coming over or what?” he repeats, a harsh undertone suddenly appearing.

You smile, impatiently pressing the elevator button over and over again because it never seems to come quick enough, “uh, yeah, yeah, I’m on my way. I was thinking, we could maybe watch that movie you were talking ab-”

His deep voice cuts you off, his usually kind and patient tone now stern, “we need to talk.”

You stare at your reflection in the elevator door as your face falls, trying to fight the inevitable tears that spring to your eyes, and you just know tonight isn’t going to be like the others.

[tigerdrop]

i have a lot of trouble writing benrey in my fics— how did you experiment with his characterization until you were satisfied with it, and what other benny interpretations do u enjoy from other fic writers? i love the way you write him, his dialogue feels so authentic and believable.

AW thank u......it always makes my day to hear something nice about the way i characterize ppl......there were a lot of things i did to try to nail how he talks and thinks. thank u for asking this b/c i have a Lot to say about this subject

the first thing is, obv, watching the series. i have to include this one b/c i feel like quite a few ppl in this fandom.....like.....havent. there is a certain way of characterizing him as an Epic Mischievous Gamer that is, uhhh, very much a fanon thing that ppl see on tumblr and imitate and flanderize all to hell. but, like, im an obsessive little weirdo who will rewatch things over and over again to take notes on characters’ behavior and dialogue and i really gotta recommend just sitting back and listening to how benrey talks.

hes not dropping gamer references constantly. hes not making every single sentence out of his mouth some obnoxious quip. hes slow on the uptake and drops conversations entirely if he doesnt care about them. he has never once said “cringe” before and whenever i see a fic that has him doing it multiple times i feel minutes shaved off of my lifespan. the #1 tip i can give here is to not have benrey talking in fucking 2010s gamer lingo every time he opens his mouth. please

(i feel partially responsible for the spread of this kind of characterization. my first 2 fics have him doing stuff like that every once in awhile. sometimes i debate going back and changing them, but like, benrey saying “poggers” one time aside, i think they hold up pretty good. so i havent. something something historical accuracy)

the more i wrote about him, the more i tried digging into the aspects of his character that i found the most appealing. some people are really into his polite side. i am really into his bullying side. so i would watch the bits where benrey really has his “gordon bullying” mode cranked up to 11 and make note of how he acts, how he talks. trying to replicate it. “benrey saying epic random shit to piss gordon off” is much less his vibe than, like, demeaning gordon, and i feel like the bathroom skit is the ultimate manifestation of this. it is genuinely my favorite bit in the whole series b/c its so ideally representative of their weird-ass dynamic. this fuckin high school bullying LARP in the middle of a public restroom. god in heaven

the less you lean on the crutches of “gamer lingo” and “wacky non-sequitur”, the more it forces you to think about how he behaves. what motivates him. and generally, like, he operates on his own wavelength. he doesnt fully understand everything thats going on around him and selectively chooses what he tunes into. and, most importantly, he just wants to play games, man. benrey likes goofing off with the science crew and playing mind games with gordon. he fails to understand the gravity of his actions a lot of the time b/c hes not human, and hes not operating under the same social guidelines.

(this is the part where people like to speculate exactly what kind of non-human he is, and i think this can be helpful for setting up his motivations! me, personally, i am of the opinion that hes just a video game guy made real. kind of like a live-action cartoon character. so hes operating on video game logic a lot of the time, and doesnt grasp that consequences for actions are different for normal people who cant noclip or respawn. a kind of lack of empathy that manifests in him being capricious, indifferent, detached......purely oriented around “getting his job done” and “chilling” and, naturally, “fucking with gordon freeman“.)

ultimately it boils down to distilling just what i like out of their interactions and trying to Manifest it repeatedly. i go crazy about their actual canon interactions and i want to write things that hit the notes i like: two guys who are mutually kind of obsessed with one another, for better or worse, and engage in a lot of play fighting (and, you know, genuine fighting, too) as a sublimation of it. best frenemies, if you will.

i think that a lot of the problems people have in writing benrey is that they kinda just project whatever attributes they want in a lover onto him. like, man, i like cute shit as much as the next guy, but do you really think that the dude who bullies gordon freeman while hes having a panic attack is gonna tenderly stroke gordons hair and wipe his tears and tell him that everythings gonna be okay? no, dude. even when benrey expresses any kind of concern, he does it in a way that communicates that he doesnt understand the gravity of whats going on and he doesnt “get” why gordons lying on the ground yelling, or why gordons howling in pain after getting his arm cut off. he is not an empathetic guy. hes actually kind of a creep!!! a lil freakjob! the weirdness and the lack of humanity are what make him hot!!!!

and this is what makes it own so hard on the rare occasions he does show empathy! its the same reason why its so cute when gordon stops bitching for 0.5 seconds and tries to be nice! theyre earned moments, not character defaults. and cutesy/lovey-dovey shit with these two is definitely doable, but i would love to see more of it take into account the fact that these are two dudes who fucking suck and who especially suck at being emotionally open with each other.

as far as characterizations that i really like........okay. full disclosure. the biggest reason ive been losing my shit over the catmaid freemind fic is b/c the author is one of the few people who really taps in to what i like about benrey, and what i like about his relationship with gordon. hes teasing. he likes to use his perceived authority to bully people. hes weirdly protective of gordon. but hes also just, like, a chill dude who wants to play video games. and he legit likes gordon and expresses affection for him in some of the most in-character ways ive ever seen

like. deliberately spilling milk on the couch and flatly going like “oops.” b/c he wants gordon to sleep in his room......playing nurse by doing fuck-all apart from giving gordon powerade while hes sick and keeping the volume on his video games low......kicking barmey under the table for making fun of gordon being dogboyed.......it is all exceptionally cute shit and its delightfully in-character. i feel so bad for the author b/c im a frenrey head and i am primarily reading it for those two. but god they do it so well.......im hooked. im obsessed

thank u again for asking this and for the lovely compliment ^q^ i hope this answered your question......i have spent entirely too much of my life thinking about my favorite half life funny guy

[wovenstarlight]

YWBK update: chapter 25 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 25 here, or start from the beginning here

okay, on to notes and commentary! first time i’m doing these, let’s hope this works out. commentary under the cut to save people’s dashes

Hamin laughs. “Given how bad you are at not being suspicious, that’s understandable.” “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” Hamin screws up his whole face in a squint. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little bad.”

this part was really funny to me when i wrote it because i was like “hmm reasons for DHM to understand why HHJ wouldn’t work in the guild” and then i was like Wait. Their Whole First Meeting, Dude. DHM was lowkey convinced for the longest time that HHJ was like, on the run from the KR version of the mafia, and got plastic surgery to look like his little brothers, and is possibly in some sort of witness protection program??? or something??? how else does he not have cops on his ass this man is so suspicious all the time

“I don’t think… They said the dungeons were, like, different worlds? Did they find people there?”

mafia theory second place. dungeon theory first place

“Like, humans? Um. No, no humans.” “So then you can’t be from there. Okay.”

dungeon theory shot down. mafia theory back in the running

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “I’m— I’m gonna go get us some water, okay? Why don’t you… take a minute.” “Okay.” “The bathroom is over there, if you need it.” “Okay. Thank you.”

after four years working alongside a guy you start to notice when he’s feeling a little out of it and needs a bit of a break... but as JHW mentions later you also learn to be a little subtle about giving him one

jung heewon What’s with your typing? It reads like Jihye’s [HYJ]’s fine. Very energetic Too energetic? He’s going to burn out. How do I make him calm down

Epic Burnout Man makes a reappearance! when translating sclass one of the things that makes me want to shake HYJ most is his habit of constantly adding things to his to-do list while he already has 1 billion things on his plate. and all the time he’s whining about “UGH there’s SO MUCH WORK to do” No One Asked You To Do It

Anyway. the point is. HYJ isn’t about to be beat by HHJ at Developing Issues 😔

jung heewon I haven’t spoken to him directly about this because if he’s anything like you he’ll take it as an insult You wtf whts tht supposed 2 mean quit typing jung heewon Better not say shit, mr “No, I can’t take days off and cater to my interests or go out with friends or on a date, I’m too busy taking care of the kids and making sure their needs are met, no I don’t care that there are thousands of people out there balancing personal enjoyment and romance and work AND kids at the same time, are you suggesting I be a BAD GUARDIAN to MY KIDS?”

see above re: not being too direct with pointing out when HHJ’s having Issues because he doesn’t react well

You wht but our eyes r fine jung heewon Even if having glasses doesn’t run in the family, you should still get him checked, just in case

top 10 funny time travel moments: referring to you and your past self as “us” (our = my eyes are fine), but other people think you mean “our family” (our eyes are fine = no family history of long/shortsightedness)

Also. Sooyoung-ie says hi [Attachment: 20XX1213_144516.jpg] 

ok no lie this was one of the parts that pissed me off the most, even though it’s Literally One Line, because. i love chat exchanges. i really do. when done right they’re a lot of fun to read. But Do You Know How Long It Took Me To Figure Out A Calendar For The Events In This Fic. now everything’s TIMED i have to count HOW MANY DAYS IT’S BEEN since XY event so i can CORRECTLY NUMBER the FILE ATTACHMENTS!!! this sucks!!! it took me fucking forever to pin down a timeline just so i could write this chapter plus the few before and after it!!!!

anyway i gave up when i reached year. i just put 20XX. fuck it. we are running on fairy tail time now. (actually i think that’s XXnumber number? XX76? or was it X796. something like that. Who cares i stopped watching fairy tail forever ago)

Fuck it! Hamin will understand!! “If you Awaken you should come work with me,” Han Hyunjae says all in a rush. 

“HAMIN WILL UNDERSTAND” => he literally was cool with me giving zero context for half a dozen absolute balls to the wall nonsense bullshit things i’ve done before. he’ll be fine with this too. dog_in_burning_house_this_is_fine.png

“You already know about the guilds, those are going to be for dungeon Hunters, but I was thinking of forming something like an independent group of contractors. Awakened people with skills that aren’t useful for combat, but that might… that will be generally useful. It’d be you and me, and maybe one other guy I met recently. Probably more in the future.”

given that HHJ has no idea currently that peace exists (i’m so sorry baby i’ll find a way to shoehorn you in soon i miss you so much) he’s got no intentions to start a kiseungsu business yet! he mostly wants to live quietly while just acting as a manager for other Awakening-related services, like YMW’s forge and DHM’s tracking service, along with the information exchange/lowkey spy ring that he’s planning on setting up with JHW and the bar. since HYH is fine associating with him in this timeline, HHJ’s thinking he can get a foot in the door that way, then eventually spread out into dealings with most major guild leaders

RIP to this plan. you were well-made but you will not last long.

“Please, I can’t tell you how I know that, I really can’t, it’d put me and my brothers in danger if it got out. But—” “No need.” Hamin looks slightly alarmed, and Han Hyunjae feels himself settle at the obvious concern in his eyes.

MAFIA THEORY RAPIDLY RISING TO PROMINENCE??? THIS IS NOT HOW DO HAMIN WANTED HIS GUESS CONFIRMED

“I spoke to the Task Force Head and she said that there’s been discussion about hosting a meeting for the nearby high-rankers, where they’ll announce the guild proposal and see who else is interested in trying it out.”

“they’ll announce” i’m sorry king 💔 you deserved a nap

(OH ALSO FUN FACT choi eunyoung is a canon character, not an OC of mine! she appears in uhhh i think late 140s? 150s? something like that)

“I think there’s… probably only one other S-rank who’s Awakened right now?”

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehhehe

Hamin beams. “No, they’re doing great! Spookie’s taken really well to the new housing situation, but I think Spots might miss the store…”

shoutout to @daemonic-dawn​ for letting me borrow a pet name, love u king. i had a much longer ramble about pet names here but i finished typing and realized it was all entirely off topic so i removed it for convenience

Hyunjae makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t— I mean.” He huffs, visibly taking a deep breath, and Yoojin frowns reflexively. [...] “Is everything alright?” Yoojin kind of wants to be annoyed at his tone on principle, but he forces his shoulders to relax, matching Hyunjae’s posture. Though he can’t stop himself from being a little short when he answers.

things the brothers have learned in four years living together: getting confrontational often leads to arguments that just fizzle out anyway, so it’s way fucking easier to consciously tone down their combativeness in advance when talking to each other about things they have problems with, instead of screaming their heads off and then having to calm yoohyun down afterwards to boot

“I guess. Whatever.” Yoojin slumps. “Can I…” “Hm?” Hyunjae blinks at Yoojin as he gestures to the spot on the bed beside him, then jolts. “Oh! Yeah, sure, c’mere.” He opens his arms, and Yoojin goes over and flumps on the bed, head in Hyunjae’s lap. Almost immediately, Hyunjae starts stroking fingers through his hair, and Yoojin relaxes into the touch, listening as Hyunjae continues speaking.

cuddles 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i don’t have any other commentary here just. cuddles. extremely and overwhelmingly comforting for a man who spent the better part of 8 years(?) with no major positive relationships, and a kid who spent 12 years of early life basically abandoned by his parents. you had best bet they gave up on not hugging each other 1 year into this whole mess

Yoojin hums in acknowledgement. It’s not like he’d ever let himself get hurt; he has too many responsibilities to his family and friends. If he wants to be good enough to keep up, he can’t afford to fuck up like that. But… hyung will worry if he keeps working so hard. He can slow down a little for him. 

Problems disorder man when will you stop. the way he sees “getting hurt” as an inconvenience and an obstacle to his duties rather than a danger to himself. the way he doesn’t really care if he himself gets hurt, but if it’ll worry his family, then it’s a no-no. it’s just. wow. i know i wrote this but i hate him

“Not really. I talk to Myeongwoo about it sometimes.” “Ah, right, Myeongwoo.”

haha gays

“Don’t be weird about him,” Yoojin warns[...]. “I won’t, promise.”

if the “i won’t” line had a dialogue tag it’d be “Han Hyunjae lied”

“Is Eunwoo still in his relationship?” “Mhm, happy as ever. Apparently they’re trying long-distance, now that Eunwoo’s gone off to university abroad.”

three guesses for who eunwoo’s dating and you won’t need the first two

Hyunjae raises his hands like he’s going to deny the accusations levelled against him, so Yoojin seizes him by the collar and shakes him until he cries for mercy

oh my o/rv ass struggled so bad with not writing “shakes him like a man betrayed” here. it killed me not to. but in the end i prevailed (against, uh, myself. don’t think about it too hard.)

“Jeez, okay, he’s an F-rank!” “Eh?! Then why—” “He’s also got an SS-rank potential skill,” Hyunjae admits[...].

play-by-play of this scene because god if i draw any scene in this fic it would be this one just for the sheer hysterical nature of HYJ’s reaction:

YOOJIN: I HATE YOU WHAT THE FUCK WHY. TELL ME HIS RANK

HYUNJAE: HE’S AN F

YOOJIN: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

HYUNJAE: he’s also got an SS-rank skill,

YOOJIN:

[noxtms]

MARCH 15TH, 2021. it’s two days before the planned st patrick’s day parade ( and evening celebrations ), and the spring festival is in full swing. the joint events have been as huge a success as they always have been : local business has boomed, and to those that care, it’s a pity that arcanum wasn’t back up and running in time to cash in like so many other stores had.

the building that had once been both life’s work & ancestral home of the trelawney’s had lay empty for the best part of two decades, and unfortunately, it showed. structurally sound though it was, near everything within required replacing - be it from water damage caused by several large holes found in the roof or destruction that had been caused by the innumerous break-ins over the years. magic could only go so far, especially when one was working alone. since the purchase of the building had gone through the month before, sybill had taken to apparating to london each weekend, working room by room. a vinyl of celestina warbeck’s greatest hits played loudly from a vintage turntable was her only company as she bustled throughout the building, early morning to darkest evening. it was slow going, and the work had grown monotonous, over time - but she had never expected anything else.

the fifth floor - containing two mirrored bedrooms sybill intended to invite cassia & oriana to personalize - was the first finished. she was making her way top to bottom, slowed even more by the onslaught that was memory. this was the birthplace of cassandra trelawney, the originator of their family status. this was where sybill had spent formative years, walking thin corridors, climbing spindly stairs, learning to read tea leaves at a shaky table in a now dusty kitchen, recording her dreams in a leather bound notebook she had kept on bedside cabinet in the room she had now reclaimed. this was home, and she had been gone from it for far too long. 

the lower shop level would be the last to be tackled, working as she was, and so, the bell above the main entrance remained broken. this would join the long list of things to be blamed for why sybill did not hear anyone approaching - scrawled somewhere between the loud record that they’ll find scratching at it’s end & the happy crowd beyond grubby windows that did not remain so, for long. the truth is that when the ministry finds sybill, they’ll only be able to make a guess at what truly happened.

they will theorize that it was unlikely she had any forewarning ( a uniquely ironic phrase, given the woman’s status as a debated seer ). she probably knew her attacker, though it’s hard to say - there is no sign of struggle, and the killing curse does not leave a mark. even if she had realized in time to have a defensive instinct, her wand - nine and a half inch hazel, with a unicorn tail hair core - was found on the floor above her, resting on a rickety coffee table and so very far from reach. they will say she died before it happened, and there’s no reason to think that she felt any pain, or that the situations were connected. 

the formal report will lodged by overworked aurors some hours later will not have certain details. there is no witness to the woman with wild hair & hooded eyes, nor her two companions, who apparated into the lane behind the building and entered through unlocked door. no one saw her look of fear, when throat cleared behind her & she turned on heel to see them looming in the doorway. there was no need for a silencing charm. sybill, unable to understand the position she was in, never called for help. bellatrix wasn’t there to interrogate her, and thus, didn’t give her much of a chance, anyway. their time together was short & sweet. the green light went unnoticed, and the loose cannon that was a seer with potential to urge foes in right direction against them was taken off of the playing field, with ease. conspiracy theorists in the future, inclined to look that bit deeper, may get a closer approximation of the truth than those aurors ever did. 

but then again : it wasn’t their first priority. 

it was such a lovely day. the sun, not quite beating down upon the heads of everyone bustling through the alley, still shone with more strength than it had all winter. the lack of brisk breeze made even the long shadows cast by mismatched buildings almost warm. the wwn predicted rain later that evening, and mothers ushering their children along stole glances every now and again towards the sky, waiting to see the telltale sign of dark clouds rolling in.

the first indication that anyone has to something being truly amiss was actually the sharp drop to the temperature, and the rolling fog that fell over them all, thick enough to hide anyone - and anything - more than a few feet away. thick enough to blot out the sun. the shadows grew longer. they stretched outwards. when the first scream pierces the air, only those nearest are able to see what’s causing those notes of fear.

it doesn’t take more than a moment for everyone else to realize. as the alley explodes into pandemonium, the dementors descend onto them all. 

ROUNDUP OF INITIAL FATALITIES & INJURIES ( AS OF THIS DROP ):

sybill trelawney is very, very dead. as brutal as this’ll sound - that isn’t very relevant to this plot drop as a whole, so don’t worry about it ! she’s not.

OUT OF CHARACTER:

rather than transition the on dash event threads towards this plot drop, we’re going to do things a little differently with everyone’s current needs in mind. on dash will remain the period of time that is the start of the month through to the 15th ( which will make things a little less intensive as we begin the next part of the ooc noxtms ~ celebrations ~ ). off dash, and on the discord, several channels covering a number of businesses have been established. they each have a character cap of seven to make things less confusing, and can be used for plot drop rping !

as always with a plot drop of this nature, the discord announcement will include the allowance for injurys. there’s a smaller cap on these than usual, since the dementors themselves are sort of .... 0 - 100, and the injuries themselves will have to be discussed as happening in the chaos rather than from the dementors. that is, unless you uhhh ... really want your character to get a little kiss kiss ! that can be arranged !  

the galleon system list has also been updated and now includes a reward of 250 galleons ( per character it’s completed for ) for a 250 word minimum drabble / self para, written with the patronus charm & it’s much-needed usage during this plot drop in mind. if this were english class, the prompt would probably be something to the effect of : write a detailed description of your characters happy memory, or what their experience is about to be, conjuring their patronus in this specific situation. you have a LOT of freedom on it, and can write it in any way you see fit. please feel free to use the tag nox.task on any posted to the dash ! 

there was never any intention of having a st patrick’s parade / party event. sorry for bamboozling you all, but i think it’s safe to say that after this disastrous ides of march, those events will have been cancelled ! once you’ve read this post, please give it a little like ! 

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

***

also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon  @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me!

***

Killian

How do you feel about improv? ES

Trepidatious. KJ

What if I told you some random just gave me last minute tickets to a Jane Austen inspired improv drag show, and I have a spare? ES

Curiosity alone compels me to say yes. Pleasance? KJ

George Square. ES

Thank fuck. I forgot my umbrella. KJ

If Killian had any sense, he'd approach the month of August the same way Robin did every year. Which mostly amounted to renting his house out to a troupe of Hungarian acrobats for extortionate sums of money and taking off for the south of France, thus avoiding the whole sorry spectacle.

A privilege reserved for those not living out of their older brother's spare room. Nor stuck writing Fringe reviews for his ailing periodical.

He thought his latest was his best yet.

Do you value your time? Your money? Your life? Then walk, don't run, as far from this act as you can. No one this incompetent should be wielding chainsaws, let alone juggling them. I may have been the only one-handed man at the preview, but with this shambolic spectacle set to run for the rest of the week, I expect I won't be the last. 0 stars.

Liam had accused him of being deliberately cruel, but he hadn't seen the show firsthand. The phrase 'culpable and reckless conduct' came to mind. His review went up online, unchallenged.

To his great surprise, his favourite show so far had been the improv show Emma had dragged him along to. It had all the subtle snark and invariable romance of Austen's classic novels, with the added benefit of Emma nearly passing out from laughing so hard. That alone would have justified his five star review, but the cherry on the cake had been when the man dressed as the elderley Dowager had picked August out from the crowd, and made him part of the act.

Killian generally condemned the casual cruelty of audience participation. Indeed, he lived in constant fear of it at every show he reviewed. But when it came for a certain novelist, he found his views on the matter suddenly rather... fluid.

Try as he might, he couldn't see what Emma saw in the man. What hidden virtues he possessed that had provoked such a ferocious loyalty. Killian wasn't stupid enough to voice such thoughts, of course, but that hadn't stopped him trying to figure it out.

The opportunity to continue this study was surely the only reason he'd opened an unsolicited DM from the man himself, when he should have been watching a Swedish comedy troupe send up classic films in a series of skits.

We have a mutual friend in need. How's your schedule looking uhhh… now?

Killian looked back to the stage. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the red streamers might signify blood. They were either up to Carrie or Jaws.

Trouble? Killian typed back.

Emma. The next message read.

We're in a bar in Leith and things have gotten a little… messy.

Killian checked the time. Barely past one in the afternoon. And fucking Leith? That didn't bode well. But at the same time, his review of the show was supposed to be online within the hour.

With a growing sense of unease, he typed out his reply. Which pub?

***

Stepping into The Marksman on Duke Street was not unlike stepping back in time. More precisely, to somewhere smack dab in middle of the Thatcher era, when Leith was a byword for deprivation and whatever comes after heroin chic. It was charmless, grimy and depressing, and Killian might've never understood the appeal until he caught the sign in the window. It opened at 6am.

Trying to avoid the abject stares of the locals, Killian found his quarry sat at the end of the bar on mismatching stools. Emma slumped forward, her face hidden, but August turned around swiftly at his approach, the alarm in his eyes quickly giving way to recognition.

"Oh thank god." August swept off his barstool, his relief so palpable that Killian thought he might hug him. He didn't look well. Thoroughly debauched, if one might say so, and in desperate need of a bath.

"Nice place," Killian remarked drily. "A bit off the beaten path…"

August pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. Or… wearier. "It's been a long night. And morning." He glanced back to where Emma sat propped by the bar, apparently still completely unaware of his absence, and drew closer, his voice lowering.

"You know that Graham guy?"

Killian couldn't explain it, but something inside his chest caught. Like flint striking steel. "Aye," he growled, not liking where this was headed.

"Married," August supplied, without preamble. "She didn't know. No one knew. She ran into them holding hands in the Tron. Matching wedding bands. The whole bit. So she threw her beer in his face and called it a day, right? But this morning, no, yesterday morning, the wife showed up. At the apartment. Emma's apartment."

Killian's fist clenched by his side.

"Yeeaah. It got pretty heated. Long story short, it's been a day and a half. I don't even remember how we got here. I'm not sure I even know exactly where here is. I have to be on a train at 4 to King's Cross or my publisher is going to sue my ass. Now, I can trust you? To get her home safely? You look at her like you're half a drink away from belting out Jessie's Girl at any given moment. I didn't imagine that, did I?"

Of all the places to grudgingly admit his feelings, not least in confidence to this man he wasn't sure he even liked, The Marksman was not the venue he would have chosen. And yet.

"There's very little I wouldn't do for that woman."

He was caught by surprise when the man launched forward and kissed him on the cheek, more still when he went back for the other cheek. August grinned enormously, grasping Killian by the shoulders. "Welcome to the family! Please don't fuck it up." And then consulting his phone, "I really need to go."

August made short work of the rest of his goodbyes, pulling Emma into fierce hug from behind, whispering something into her ear as he let her go. Then, with a wink in Killian's direction and a kiss blown at the nearest crusty Leither, he picked up his messenger bag and fled onto the street.

Steeling himself after that prologue, Killian turned back to where Emma sat by the bar, unseeing reddened eyes peeking out from under a tangle of blonde hair. He pulled out August's vacated stool, and took a seat.

"Swan," he began, with an imaginary tip of his cap.

"Jones," she replied, her voice flatter than he'd ever heard it.

"Of all the gin joints…"

She grimaced. Though her frown was so pronounced already, it didn't make much of a change. "We don't talk about the gin."

"At least tell me it was the good stuff."

She tried to smile, but the action seemed to cause her pain. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me right now."

"Why not? You're not the villain in this story."

A small noise escaped her, half laugh, half sob. "Sure feels like it."

"No, that's the supermarket gin talking. We've talked about this. Nothing good ever came from a clear spirit at 35p a measure."

She sank further forward in her seat, her forehead resting against the bar top. "Don't be cute. Please just leave me alone to die," she mumbled.

He couldn't resist tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, making sure she could see him. "I'm not going to do that. I have a duty of care."

"Why? Because you'd have to find someone else to write a column about?"

"No," he replied levelly. "Because you're my best friend."

That had her lifting her head off the bar, albeit wincing as she did so. "I thought Robin was your best friend?"

He tapped his chin. "No, it's definitely you."

She considered that. Though how much of her internal brain processes had survived the pickling process over the last 24 hours, Killian couldn't be certain.

Of course, it was at that moment their bartender appeared, a middle aged woman with an ill-fitting polo shirt and bright green acrylic nails she drummed against the bar top. "Another top up, hen?" She didn't even glance at Killian.

He put his hand over Emma's glass. "Actually, I'm afraid we're on our way out."

Their server didn't much like that, a hand finding her hip. "Well that's up for the lass to decide, no?"

"It's okay, Tracy," Emma said, managing a consoling smile. "He's a friend. Are we all settled up?"

"We are." She gave Killian a cool once over. "Friend, you say? Mind you keep it that way. Looks like nothing but trouble to me. And you still raw after the last one. Liars and cheats, the lot of them."

Killian thought to take offence, but Emma already had him by the arm, pulling him off his stool. "Thanks, Tracy. Can you call me a cab?"

***

Getting her into the cab took some doing, not least because she had to pause twice to throw up in the gutter, and the first guy had driven off. Fair play to him. Thankfully by the time the second cab arrived Emma's stomach had settled, and she spent the drive curled harmlessly against Killian's side.

"Your lassie alright?" the cabbie asked, as Killian half lifted, half dragged her from the backseat out onto the gravel driveway. "You need a hand?"

It was a testament to how preoccupied he was that Killian didn't even stop to consider that might've been a crack about his prosthetic until Emma was already inside and passed out on his bed.

He texted Elsa first. A simple heads up.

There's an unconscious woman in the house. Don't freak out. KJ

It went about as well as you'd expect.

At least he had sisterly back up when he broke the news to Liam that he wasn't getting his review.

Needless to say, by the time Emma raised her groggy head from his pillow, the house was no longer silent, and it was no longer still. Elsa had insisted on rushing home, and boyish shrieks permeated the air, punctuated by the usual crashing and banging.

Killian sat in his one armchair, an ugly monstrosity of purple velvet which had been forbidden from the rest of the house, sipping his tea as she came awake. It took some time. One eyelid slithered open. Then the other. Never both at the same time.

"Do I want to know why someone is screaming in the next room?" Her voice was scratchy, and he motioned towards the glass of water by the bedside.

"Nephews," Killian said by way of explanation, as she crawled forward to grasp the glass in both hands, shaking with the effort.

She took a long draught, surveying her surroundings. He wondered how much she remembered from the last two days, if anything. If she even remembered his arrival at The Marksman, or August's leaving. She examined the ornate cornices, and floating beams. The collection of spent paperbacks stacked by the bed and the shabby, unmatched furniture.

"Your house. Your room?"

"My room," he confirmed. "We have guest rooms, but they're upstairs. And quite frankly, just getting you this far was nightmare enough. You're heavier than you look."

He earned a pillow to the face for that remark. It still smelled of her, which in her current state, wasn't much of a testimonial.

"Shower?" he ventured.

"Please," she said, rolling over until she could place both feet on the floor.

"Second door on the right. Elsa left some things out. Towels. Fancy shampoo. Paracetamol," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Should be a set of clothes too."

She cringed. "Elsa knows I'm here?"

"Sorry. It's a new house rule of theirs. Radical honesty. Elsa knows you're having a rough time of it, and are convalescing. But that is the extent of her knowledge. Whether that remains the case, is entirely up to you."

"Right."

"Oh," he said, smacking his forehead. He scrabbled around on top of his dresser, before presenting her with a wooden triangle.

She took it automatically, seeming annoyed at herself for doing so. "Uh, thanks?"

"The bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Best wedge it under the door. Trust me when I say, you don't want Lachie walking in on you in the altogether. It's stressful for all involved."

"Good tip," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

She edged past him awkwardly to the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She'd already slipped into the hallway when her head appeared back around the door.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"I'm horrendously hungover so you probably can't tell, but I appreciate, uh…" she waved the wedge around vaguely. "All this."

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but please do shut up," he said with a wink. "Also, you're taking me out for pancakes after, so don't be too long."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, am I just?"

"You are indeed. Best thing for a gin hangover, in my limited experience. And it was very generous of you to offer."

"Very generous," she agreed, dubiously. "And Killian?

"Aye?"

"You're so full of shit. But... I do love pancakes. And one more thing?"

"Hmm?"

She kicked a toe into the carpet, eyes evasive. "You're sort of my best friend, too." Then she disappeared back behind the door, leaving Killian slack jawed.

***

He'd nearly finished two chapters of his book by the time Emma returned from her trip to the bathroom, shower soft and minty fresh.

"Better?" he asked, putting the novel aside.

"Much," she agreed. "Though full disclosure, I think I just used a $300 tube of lotion, and I kinda smell like a baby Porsche."

"The very best kind of Porsche," Killian assured her, offering her his prosthetic to take. "They're terrors once they hit the teenage years. Shall we?"

They crossed Bruntsfield Links just after sunset, the sky still streaked with pink and orange. He'd always loved summers in Scotland, that neverending twilight. It almost made shivering through six months of winter worthwhile. He was so busy admiring the scene, he nearly missed it when Emma detached herself from his arm, stopping in her tracks.

"Emma?"

She was standing entirely still, her eyes shut.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her eyes flickered open, almost surprised to see him still standing there. "Sorry, just… cataloguing."

"Cataloguing," Killian repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah, smartass," she said, walking forward to loop her arm under his again. "Cataloguing. Sometimes I forget, but this-" she indicated the kaleidoscope sky, the green-gold expanse of grass disappearing into the distant smudge that was Arthur's Seat, the group of laughing teenagers nearby trying to finish their mini golf game before they lost the light, "-Sometimes I still have to pinch myself."

She didn't elaborate, and Killian found himself oddly lost for words. He just reached over to squeeze her hand, and led her back towards the city lights.

For the time of year, they got lucky. The line was short, and it wasn't long before they were led to a red vinyl booth, complete with its very own mini jukebox. They both stared at it for a good minute before Emma fished a spare pound out of her pocket, and dropped it onto the table between them. "Your call. I'm going to the bathroom. Anything but Don't Stop Believin'."

Lord help him, but he thought he might love her.

He settled for a less foreboding tune, which morphed into another, then another, before he was fishing out his own coins to keep the party going. If he didn't know her any better, he might've thought she'd done a runner on him. Fortunately, he did know her better. Or at least, he was starting to.

She came back just in time for the guitar solo in The Chain, her I'm-bearing-up smile indicating she was doing nothing of the sort.

"Ruby texted," she explained, taking her seat opposite him. "About twenty times. She wouldn't stop until I FaceTimed her. I miss anything?"

"Just side one of Rumours. And your drink order." He indicated the glass of fizzy orange liquid in front of her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fanta?"

"Irn-Bru. Best hangover cure there is."

She cast him a doubtful look.

"I'm serious. There's been studies."

"Oh well, if there's been studies." She slid the glass minutely closer, but didn't partake. Instead she watched as Killian lifted his own glass, and made a face.

He lowered his glass. "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm never drinking again. I didn't even know they served beer here."

"They do, but this is Dry Ginger."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ginger ale? You?"

Killian shrugged. "It's something I'm trying. Like a cleanse. But instead of drinking juice and doing yoga, I drink post-mix dry ginger and be less of a twat."

"Sobriety." Emma slapped her hand against the table. "I wish I'd thought of that. But I've barely seen you, when did you decide this?"

"Roughly…" he counted back the days, "43 days ago." When I thought I'd lost your friendship forever. But he didn't have to say it. From the look on her face, she already knew the significance.

"Huh." Emma sat back in her seat, absorbing that. But if she was planning on expanding on that thought, she was saved by the arrival of their waitress, who was all too eager to expound on the daily specials.

By the time they were alone again, Emma had cracked and was halfway through her Irn-Bru.

"I mean, it's not repellent…" she offered, by way of grudging approval.

"Trust me, it works." And then because he felt like they'd danced around it long enough, "So do you want to talk about it?"

She set down her glass, letting her fingers trace along the edge of the table top. "Nope. But somehow I feel like we're going to anyway."

"It was only about eight hours ago you wanted me to leave you to die in Leith's most depressing pub. I feel like it warrants at least a conversation."

She grimaced at the memory. Or perhaps where the memories ought to have been. It was hard for him to be sure.

"I fell in love with a married woman once. If you're worried about my judgement, you needn't be."

He wasn't quite sure where it had come from. This sudden urge to talk about Milah. But it was how they'd always operated, wasn't it? If he wanted Emma to take down her walls, he had to offer up a few bricks from his own. Well, this was more of a boulder, really, but at least he had her attention.

She snorted. "I wasn't in love with Graham."

"So what's the problem?"

"Because," she reasoned, tears springing into her eyes. "It's just so fucking mortifying. To be played for a fool, again. I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I could just, I don't know, flirt with a cute, intelligent guy and feel good about myself for five fucking seconds without it ending with his wife beating down my door demanding to know if I'd fucked her husband!"

She'd gotten a little loud towards the end there, with more than a few wary eyes glancing their way. Killian quickly stood up, and made his way over to her side of the booth, slipping in beside her. It was a tight fit, but it did succeed in sheltering her from most of the stares.

"Alright, so he's a tosser."

Another snort.

"Liam's bookie knows a guy. I could make a few calls?"

She shot him a sideways glance. "Don't tempt me right now. I just feel so stupid. But like, in an angry way."

"You're not stupid for being taken in by him. It's not a weakness to want to see the best in people, Emma. In fact, considering how many people in your life have disappointed you, myself included, I'd say it's pretty bloody brave."

Emma shook her head. "Is it though? I saw red flags. Even from the start he was kind of flaky. I wasn't even sure if I really liked him. It just appealed to my vanity, that he seemed to like me. So don't I deserve this? Just a little?"

"No." Killian wasn't sure where the vehemence came from, but he could feel it, welling up. "No, you don't deserve to be lied to, and dragged into the middle of someone else's messed up marriage without your knowledge or consent. No, you don't deserve being made to feel like the side-piece. You're not the side-piece. You're the heroine. And he's just a fucking wanker. What you deserve..." He looked up to see their server approaching the table, platters piled high with maple syrup topped goodness. He shot Emma a smile. "What you deserve, is pancakes."

***

It would've been remiss of him not to foot the bill, after his earlier declaration about her deserving pancakes, so there'd been a little bit of an argument about that as they wended their way down Clerk Street in the growing darkness. That Emma could argue about not paying for the pancakes he'd goaded her into in the first place, was a testament to the healing powers of Irn-Bru and a triple stack. No truly hungover person would have committed to such a futile battle.

But when they arrived at the beginning of her street, Emma stopped arguing and grabbed a hold of Killian's arm, pulling him up short.

She was shaking her hands out, like she was fighting off an attack of nerves, and Killian was instantly on the defensive. "Swan?"

She stopped when he said her name, plastering on what seemed to him a rather brittle smile. "Hey. Sorry. I'm just wondering, would you do me a favour?"

He had to chuckle at that. "Swan, if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it's that yes, I am available for favours. Unless of course they involve you paying me back for the pancakes. Because I'm afraid I'm rather immovable on that front."

"Great. So umm… Ruby has this theory."

"Ruby has a theory?" he repeated, hoping at some point, things would start making sense. "What manner of… theory?"

"Oh, god this is so stupid," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just going to say it. I'm just going to come right out and say it: I want you to kiss me."

Something very violent was happening inside Killian's chest, a feeling which was neither happiness, nor disappointment, but a crushing combination of the two. He felt hot and cold. He felt light-headed.

"You want-" he started.

Emma's eyes were screwed shut, as if bracing for a blow. Or in this case, the fallout. She already had regrets. And more than that, it had been Ruby's idea. But why would Ruby…?

Of course.

The best way to get over a man, was to get under a new one. Wasn't that the old adage?

It wasn't about him. It wasn't about them.

No, she'd been clear. I want you to kiss me. She'd chosen him. She trusted him to be the one to soothe her wounded pride. Maybe she'd hoped it would be him. Maybe he was just the most convenient option. In any case, the wondering would certainly kill him.

But not as much as going through with it.

He reached out and took her hand, waiting until she opened her eyes. By Christ, people weren't supposed to look so beautiful by yellow street light. It wasn't scientific. And yet.

"No."

Now it was her turn to look like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Oh." She made to release her hand from his, but he held firm. In fact, he pulled her closer, just a little.

"No, I'm not going to kiss your bruised pride back into place. Because I promise you, it's going to heal just fine on its own. You don't need a kiss from me or anyone to remind you what you're worth. You never have. It's one of my favourite things about you. Understand?"

Her reply was a little choked up when it came. "Got it."

She gravitated closer, her eyes shining, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He was certainly losing his nerve. He settled instead for raising her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"That's one for the road."

He released her then, though nearly every part of his was screaming at him to do the opposite. Thankfully, she looked just as shaken as he felt. He nearly twisted his ankle in a gutter trying to put a little distance between them. And then he had one perfect surge of stupid confidence, and turned back to face her. She was still standing under the streetlight where he'd left her, looking oddly incomplete.

"Will you do me a favour, Swan?" he called out.

She held up her hands in a helpless shrug. "Sure."

"When the time is right, ask me again."

Then with his heart hammering a million miles a minute, he turned away and slipped into the adjoining street, and back into the night.

[fanfics-arent-therapy-but-idc]

JATP FANFIC

Juke

Fluff

Oneshot

Time and Space

Julie and the boys decide to take a break from the band while Julie gets her bearings at college while they go and explore. Turns out that kindred spirits don’t take well to time and space.

Julie sat on the black swivel chair at the studio, back slightly arched over a keyboard as she recorded a new part to the chorus of a song she was working on. She hummed the lyrics lightly allowing her fingers to make what she heard in her head come to fruition. “Perfect” , she said once she added the keyboard to the song and replayed it. The song was mostly pop with a little bit of soul. It was right on brief as far as she was concerned, but the professors at Berklee were no joke. She just hoped that she did enough for an acceptable grade. After saving the song on her drive, she made her way to her room on 150 Massachusetts avenue. Her roommate, a dance major from Brazil, wasn’t going to be home until 11:00pm, meaning that she had two hours of alone time.

She entered the cozy room with a smile. Alana had turned on the L.E.D fairy lights and she could also smell the faint floral scent of the oil diffuser. She must have done this before she met up with her friends for their weekly Friday dinners . Julie locked the door, sat on her desk, and scribbled a note of gratitude, ending the note with a new Portuguese phrase that she’d picked up from her, “te amo muito”. After placing it on her bed, she began her nightly routine: shower, sing in the shower, wear her comfy pajamas(which consisted of an old, ripped up T-shirt that she had stolen from Luke years ago, and fluffy reindeer pajama pants), check her phone for messages, find out that she didn’t receive any, and ultimately sit on her bed for another hour with her notebook and a pencil. She usually felt most creative around this time, but tonight was not one of those nights. She stared at her phone that was all too proud to showcase her embarrassingly empty notifications list.

At first, the band came to the decision to go on hiatus for Julie’s sake. They had spent every hour of everyday together for two and a half years, cultivating a loyal following and making great music. A needed break, just so Julie could focus on school, was the logical move. Ever since they materialized as real people, they hadn’t spent much time exploring this new world. This was their chance. She mostly attributed the lack of communication to the fact that they probably still had no clue how to use smartphones and ignored the very plausible idea that they might have needed a break from her. She and Flynn spoke more often, but she was easily busier than Julie over at Northwestern with her double major in Performance studies and Film and Media studies.

Sigh. Julie fell backwards onto her bed and closed her eyes, remembering the day she left for Boston. It was still super hot in California, but she had a sweater stuffed into her carry-on for when she landed on the East Coast. The boys drove a separate car that contained most of her luggage, while her Dad, Flynn, and her brother were in another car, blasting the radio. Her father singing the loudest, trying to drown out the pang in his chest, Julie assumed. She was excited to go to college, but she would miss her hometown, her family, Flynn, and the boys. When they parked, the boys insisted on carrying all of the luggage. She had to wrestle Reggie to hold on to her carry-on. The boys wondered at everything they witnessed, none of them having taken a flight anywhere before dying. She distinctly remembers the way Luke smiled and waved at the troupe of pilots walking past them and towards their respective flights. When it was time for her to pass the threshold, her dad broke down, silent tears breaking through. “Mom would be so proud of you”, he assured her. Now it was Julie’s turn to cry. She hugged them all one more time, Luke last of all.

“Hey”, he started, “don’t forget about us when you become a cool, super smart, college student”. Julie laughed so hard that she startled the entire waiting area full of people.

“I promise that I won’t. And just because the band’s taking a break… that doesn’t mean you can’t call, or text, or video call. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of course, once I figure out how to do that video call thing you’ll be seeing this face once a day”, he promised. Julie laughed again, wiped her tear-stained cheeks, and boarded her flight.

That was three weeks ago. The first time he video called her, the connection was poor, and they couldn’t hear each other. The second time he tried to call, she just got an embarrassingly bad grade on an exam that she had spent all night studying for in addition to being days behind on a project in the very same class. Julie lay in bed cringing at the memory of that afternoon.

“Hey Julie! woah, are you crying? What’s going on are you oka- “

“No- I mean I was, but I- I’m good now, just busy”,

“Oh. Well, what’s up?”

“Uh, nothing much honestly. Just… yeah just super busy”

“Julie, do you need me to hang up?”

“I’m so sorry, but yes. I’m just-”

“Busy? Got it. See you later”

She felt physically ill remembering that day. She had half a mind to text him an apology, but some sort of self-preservation setting inside of her stopped her every time. Knowing Luke, he’d probably texted everyone that she was super busy and not to be disturbed. Maybe that’s why she’s been left on radio silence for a week. Her dad even downsized from his daily calls and he always kept them under ten minutes; even if she insisted that she had more time. She was just about to call it a night when her phone vibrated. She froze. Don’t get too excited. It’s probably from one of your professors.

It wasn’t. Julie blinked and turned the brightness all the way up on her phone. The message read:

🎶Luke🎶: Hey, are you busy?

Julie was quick to respond:

You: No, not at all. Wanna talk?

Just as the little notification popped up to indicate that her message was delivered, there was a knock on her door. She assumed that it was Alana coming home early. She frequently forgot her keys so it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, but who she opened the door for was completely unexpected.

“Dad! Carlos! What are you doing here?” Standing in front of her door was her dad and brother. She hugged them tightly and to more of her surprise, just outside the doorway was Flynn, Alex, Reggie, and Luke, standing humbly behind everyone else.

“Don’t be mad at us”, Alex said, “Luke made it very clear that this surprise could not be spoiled under any circumstances”.

“But we’re not that good at keeping secrets,” Reggie added.

“So you all decided to ghost me?” she questioned.

“Sort of”, Alex responded quietly. They were all looking at her. Wondering if they had made a grave mistake and if she would slam the door in their faces. She wouldn’t.

“Well… the risk was worth it. I am officially surprised!” she whispered, realizing that her fellow, sleep-deprived, students would not appreciate the interruption. The look of relief on everyone’s face was hilarious.

“Come on everyone, let’s get out of this hallway. I know a good 24-hour diner just around here. They have seats big enough for all of us”, Julie suggested.

“That sounds great Julie, but please tell me that you're getting changed first?” Flynn asked.

Julie remembered that she was in her ‘comfy clothes’. Clothes consisting of Luke’s shirt and Christmas pajamas. “Uhhh, yeah. Give me a minute”. She shut the door, jumped into a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. “Okay, now I’m ready! Let’s go”.

The walk to the Diner was short, but Julie had learnt a lot. Carlos just started a photography club at his school, Flynn’s roommate, Justine, has an aunt who owns a hair salon, meaning discounted box braids all year. She was really excited about that. Reggie has been surprising fans at local cafes with acoustic versions of the band’s best hits. Alex has been holed up in every museum and library in California and Dad was up to the same old stuff, taking photos, cooking, and whatever old people do, Julie added to her dad’s protest.

“I am not old”, he responded as he pushed open the Diner doors. The place was pretty clean to most city-dwellers standards. The faded blue and yellow banquets surrounded the walls and long wooden tables were placed across from them. Julie took the liberty of snagging a few stools from the counter, seeing as the room was empty. Julie, Carlos, and her Dad sat on the stools while the rest of the crew spread out on the banquets. When the waitress came around she informed them that they were in luck and that there was a fresh batch of maple bacon and regular glazed hot out of the deep fryer. They ordered one of each for everyone, along with a pot of classic Diner coffee and a pitcher of water for Carlos. As they waited for their desserts, the group fell into a lull. Julie took this chance to get into Luke’s head. He had planned an entire trip across the country for her, but he hadn’t said more than twenty words to her since she’d layed eyes on him.

“So, Luke,” she started tentatively, “what have you been up to? Visit any museums lately?”

“Pfft I wish!” her father exclaimed. She peeked over at a mortified Luke and the sympathetic stares of his friends. “I swear all he ever does is sit in that studio, write songs, and sulk”, he continued mercilessly, only stopping when the waitress arrived.

“Here are the donuts. The coffee and water are coming right up”.

“Thank you so much,” her Dad responded kindly. “Now back to what I was say-”

“Julie, can we talk… outside,” Luke interrupted. Flynn and Carlos tried to stifle a laugh that ended in both of them choking on their donuts. Julie was… confused to say the least but she obliged, standing and walking shyly past the door he opened for her.

‘It’s freezing out here!’ She wanted to say to cut the tension, but she knew that the weather was not one of the topics of conversation that Luke had on his mind. They were walking now, taking small steps to nowhere in particular. Luke spoke first.

“So, as your father has so kindly told you, our beloved friends, and the entire Diner staff, I’m sort of miserable without you”.

Julie snorted. “Well, to be honest, I'm not having such a great time without you either. We’re really that co-dependent, huh?” Luke was smiling next to her and she was smiling back. She really did miss his smile.

“Ha, well, you say co-dependent, and I say that I'm deeply in love with you,” he shrugged, “same difference”. What? Julie froze. She was not prepared for this, but one could say that that was just bad planning on her part. Julie still remembers the day when she almost lost him to Caleb. The feeling of absolute darkness surrounding her heart, the feeling of heartbreak and anger. She was way too young to call that feeling love, but looking back, looking at all of the late-night songwriting sessions and the way she lost all ability to speak when he gave her that smile, maybe it was. Maybe it still is. Realizing that Luke was watching her, she tried to utter some sort of response.

“Luke, I-”

“You don’t have to say it back, in fact I'm asking you not to, but just hear me out on this one request. Please?”

“Okay.”

“Let me stay.”

“Where? My dorm room. I think that Alana and my dad might have something to say about that,” she answered, unsure of where this was going.

“Very funny Molina. He was doing his nervous finger twitch. “C’mon lighten the mood Julie!” She chastised herself.

“Right? I should drop out and pursue a career in come-”

“Let me stay here in Boston”, he butted in. She didn’t mind because she could see how much what he wanted to say scared him. “I'll get my own place, I'll work crappy retail jobs when all my money runs out, I’ll busk on the streets for all I care, but I… I need this. He was gesturing at the two of them.

Julie stood there unmoving. He needed her. The sentiment was horrifying and exciting at the same time, but she couldn’t hide her truth when he was showing his off right in front of her. To her, he was that bit of California sunshine she was always missing, the series of sounds that filled the empty part of a song she was producing, he was like the sweet glaze on a soft donut; he completed her. Without thinking, she grabbed his shaking hands and placed them on her cheeks. Like from memory, he was caressing her face. She placed her hands on his face and did the same. For a split second, Julie was sixteen again, in her mother’s studio, holding on tight to what she had left, what she wanted more than anything.

“I need you too, Luke. You're the glaze to my donut.” It was Luke’s turn to laugh now. Julie knew it was a stupid metaphor, but it got the job done and it made him smile.

“Oh my gosh that was terrible”, he teased, putting both hands over his mouth in shock, “how did you get into Berklee?”

“That’s a lot of talk coming from someone who didn’t get into Berklee”, she teased back, arms folded.

“Hey, don’t underestimate me! I could have gotten in had I applied”, he assured her.

“You don’t even have a transcript, Luke.”

“Once again, do not underestimate my skills of persuasion. I managed to get you to let three ghosts live in your studio” he replied.

“Fine. Then apply next semester,” she teased.

“Is that a challenge, Molina?”

“More like an invitation”, Julie looked him in the eyes now, all jokes aside.

“I’ll be there. Always”, he answered.

“Wow. That was, inspiring”, said a familiar voice, “but can we please get back to the hotel? The waitress just warned us that we don’t want to be walking around here after dark.”

Julie and Luke turned in unison to see a paranoid Alex standing in front them. “Oh, and congratulations on the two of you finally realizing that you are literally inseparable. This past month has been torture for me! Now c’mon, let’s go before we get murdered, but for real this time.”

The trio walked back into the Diner with Luke and Julie holding hands. This was met with various cheers, chants, and a relieved “finally”! from Julie’s dad. “Now I can use my studio in peace!”

THE END!

[smolbeandrabbles]

Black Coffee - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X

@mandy23b​ @wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad!

Nolan Sorrento + 15 - “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” Yo @mendelskrull -  I remember a tag of yours once saying that you also love the CEO x PA trope, so I went full on with this! Please enjoy! 😘❤

Author’s Note: I think this was originally just meant to be a cute watching him make coffee scenario and then I kind kept building on it and now we have this. I’m really coming into my own with writing for him - considering how hard it’s been for me in the past...  Anyway, I really like this one. It was a lot of fun!

Disclaimer: RPO Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gif credit as appropriate (Thanks again Joss!)

Premise: As much as you like bringing coffee to your CEO, it’s just as enjoyable when he returns the favour. Maybe you can persuade him that it’s not the only thing that can wake him up this morning... 

Words: 2580

Warnings: sexual connotations

_________ Day dreamin', chain smokin' Always laughin', always jokin' I remain the same Did I tell you that I love you? Brush your teeth and pour a cup of Black coffee out - I love to watch you do that every day The little things that you do Each moment is new Freeze the moment Each moment is cool Freeze the moment I wouldn't wanna be Anywhere else but here I wouldn't wanna change Anything at all

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Both of you were rushing. You weren’t exactly sure why, because the CEO of IOI was never late for anything, not even a supplier meeting – even when he was probably running five minutes behind schedule. You might shoulder the blame for trying to catch him just before he ought to be heading to it, but a certain someone decided to drag you into his office for a makeout session and now had to run halfway across the building to his meeting room. With you giving chase if only to go through what you ACTUALLY had to remind him of, and what you’d tried to catch him for in the first place. Eventually Nolan realised the same as you – he couldn’t be late! - and slowed down; heck, he didn’t want to turn up to a meeting out of breath as it was, that would raise a bunch of awkward questions. So you actually got to tick things off your list as he instructed you. And finally you got to the one you were the most curious about; “Oh! Nolan! Why does your dentist keep ringing? It’s the 5th time this week!” You’d had the note on your desk for the past few weeks, but it was always something he’d get to - you were started to get annoyed at having to pick up the phone to them. His face flushed, “Oh don’t worry about it!” “Well I do worry when I ring back and they’ll only talk to you!” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m your assistant Nolan, it’s literally my job to book things like this-!” “It’ll be okay!” He waved away your suggestion. “Really? Nolan! What are you doing to your teeth-?!” “Nothing-!” But his voice pitched and you reckoned that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Your teeth are fine the way they are! I like them...” Then your head tilted, “Well, okay, maybe if you smoked a little less.” He scoffed, giving you a sharp look, “That’s enough outta you!” But you thought it was important to also keep his health at the forefront of your mind. Nolan’s smoking habit was casual, but he still did it.

As you rounded the corner to the meeting room Nolan stopped dead, and it became clear that he hadn’t made a note of exactly what he was about to walk into. “Oh god who invited them-!” No, they certainly weren’t one of his favourite vendors, he’d made that apparent when he asked you to book it in. “Uhhh, it’s been on your calendar for like 2 weeks.” “Really?!” “Mhm - I did remind you yesterday morning.” “I was a little... distracted yesterday morning.” He better not have been blaming you again. “Uh huh.” You pushed the folder in your hands into his arms, and waited for his hesitant hands to take it, this was only one part of what he needed and you needed Nolan to focus on you right now so you could hand it all over, “Go get ‘em.” It was at least a little sarcastic, he would hate every second. “Oh god…” He blew out a breath, free hand to his forehead, “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” - yeah, it’d be them being killed, too. “Black?” It was like an instant response, with a soft smile  He smiled, “You know my order by now, c’mon.” “Well,” you grinned “just wanted to check you didn’t want it extra strong-!” You knew how much Nolan hated this particular group of suppliers. “Ehh, good call, wouldn’t go amiss-!” “Will you need anything else, Sir?” You handed his tablet over, files he’d need for the meeting already pulled up, awaiting him to call upon them. “No, thank you Y/N, this should be sufficient.” You smiled sweetly, the gentle touch to his arm encouraging, “You’ve got this.” His hand hovered over yours for a minute, but he didn’t touch you – remembering himself, “I surely have.” You liked the confidence in his smile. You gave a nod, turning to leave and then back to him; “Should I get one for anyone else?” For one, you knew that to bring him one you would have to walk into the meeting with it – and people would become curious as to why they weren’t all being offered coffee. Nolan immediately scoffed; “NO.” You sighed, knowing that was hardly the way to treat important guests even if he despised them, “I’ll have some sent up and I’ll go out for yours.” He nodded in agreement, “This is the kind of thinking I hired you for, right?” There was a sudden glint in your eyes that made Nolan shiver; “Sure, if that’s what you tell yourself.” But immediately that sugar sweet smile was back “I’ll make sure I don’t send up the good coffee!” Then you winked, “Have a good meeting, Sir.” You got halfway down the corridor before you remembered one last important thing coming up; and luckily, as you expected, Nolan was watching you leave. He always was predictable. “Oh! You’re ready for the conference next week, right?” “Yeah! Yeah! It’s gonna be a good one - presentation and notes being reviewed as we speak-!” “As long as you’re on top of things-!” You nodded and turned to go make him coffee, but Nolan called you back. “Oh! Y/N!” “Mhm?” “You are coming to the conference with me, right? I’m gonna need someone to keep track of things for me...” You smiled “Yes, I’m going with you. That is my job, Sir.” Nolan nodded, mind already wandering, “Good... that’s good.” “Anything else?” “No, no, Y/N - carry on-!”

 *** The conference was four days long, starting on a Sunday of all days. Which meant you both arrived on Saturday, to give you a day to settle in. Two rooms were always booked, only one was ever used. You thought you were either IOI’s best kept, or worst kept, secret. No one ever acted like they knew, or even hinted it – but it wasn’t like Nolan made anything about his flirting or checking you out subtle. You’d seen him lean back in his chair with a raised eyebrow, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip at your too high heels and too short skirt before (not that you thought these things, but occasionally some of the bitches that worked here would make comments of their own.). Not that you minded, half of your work wardrobe you picked out and wore for him. The first day had been a lot of fun, he’d had a few client meetings, but aside from that, it had been wandering around stands and prospecting. IOI had their own of course, and Nolan had spent a long time making sure it was perfect, before thanking everyone manning it for being here. He of course was giving a workshop of his own – not only that, but he was Tuesday’s keynote speaker. A very important role. You were here to make sure everything ran smoothly, that Nolan was where he was supposed to be at the right times, that he had everything he needed and that you were picking up all his emails & calls whilst he was busy. Such was your role as his PA. But a role you couldn’t have enjoyed more if you’d tried. You liked reading emails to him out loud in your most sarcastic tone depending on what people had sent him, and Nolan would ask you to type his reply just as sarcastically, which most of the time would have you in stitches. Before he had enough of you standing around in his button up and dragged you to bed for something he would consider far more fun. With Sunday out of the way, and Monday consisting of a celebrity Keynote, and some workshops Nolan wished to attend himself – you weren’t that bothered about settling into your day until this afternoon, where you’d have to set the room up for him. Although you were checking in with IOI news as he got ready, enjoying the background noise of him pacing the room to get washed and dressed; the scratch of his razor against his skin, the slide of silk tie against cotton shirt, click of watch strap into place. “How we doing?” “Stock is up.” You mumbled, smiling gently as he leant over to kiss your shoulder, “…Matthew’s rerun sales numbers and they’re better than projected… uhm, Carlo says there’s a routine system upgrade tomorrow but you should know about it?” “UH. I think I remember him mentioning, it yeah…” You glanced at him over your shoulder as he neatened his hair in the mirror. That kind of response meant that Nolan didn’t have a clue, you rolled your eyes, typical. At least you were on top of things. “Also…” You rolled yourself in the sheets so you were facing the end of the bed and the wider room where he was, “I need to run through your day, even though I’ve pinged it to your calendar, so I know that I’ve told you-!” Nolan chuckled, crossing the room to the coffee machine, “You don’t trust me, huh?” “You wouldn’t want me to be honest, would you sir?” You were lucky that raise a smirk rather than an upset look – he knew you were teasing. He poured – Nolan had this very meticulous slow pour, and always bit his lip when he concentrated on it. As his name would suggest – he would insist that Italian coffee was the only good coffee, and when he made it the way that he did, you weren’t about to disagree with him. You groaned from the bed watching him, even the position he stood in gave you all the lines of his body under that sharp suit. Apparently it was a little louder than you expected by the way he turned to you with a smirk; “You okay over there, darling?” It was your turn to bite your lip as he stirred in just the correct amount of sugar for you, and a dash of milk – you were not the black coffee drinker here. “I would be if you came back to bed.” “Oh no…” Nolan’s voice was sultry as he walked back over, holding the mug out for you he ran a hand through your hair, just enough of a tug to force you to look up at him. Your lips parted and his blue eyes flashed, “I should let you recover from last night.” You shivered in delight at the way he was looking at you, and your body was already telling you that recovery was the last thing it wanted. You took the cup quickly, clearing your throat and looking away from him as you blushed. “J-Just let me tell you your schedule!” “Oh my god, will you just stop until I’ve had some of this.” He waved his hand and slid back over to the machine to pour his own – straight black, with no sweetness. The kind of coffee a ruthless CEO would drink. You knew there was a lot of sweetness under there, he just didn’t show it to anyone else. Nolan came back and sat beside you, sipping his coffee thoughtfully and nodding along as you relayed the schedule to him – propped up on one arm as you read from the tablet. Every so often he had several presentations at the same time that he’d have to choose from, or some that might conflict with client meetings; “You can send someone else to the meeting… or… I could go to the workshop for you and report back?” He regarded you with playful curiosity; “Oh? You’d be interested in some of these?” “They do sound rather good – yeah.” You blinked up at him, “You’re a little more interesting.” “Oh really?” Nolan grinned, taking a gulp of coffee and leaning over your shoulder to pick some out with your help. Eventually you had three days’ worth of scheduling down (for him and yourself), and if he wanted to go to the keynote and his first workshop he ought to be leaving your side right now. Instead he was taking his time, sweet talking you and finishing his coffee. With his casual string of flirting, and your body still telling you to drag him back to bed and relieve him of that suit and tie, you couldn’t help but nearly beg him to stay. You couldn’t even talk for fear of what might come out of your mouth, only sipping your coffee as you listened to him. Watching the nuances of his face, and the way he moved his hands; Nolan had a lot of ticks and tells – and they all meant something different. It was as much your job to read these as his employee, as it was your job as his lover. But each one was fascinating – and today every movement was the story of a man that couldn’t leave; but knew he should. You took your final sip and placed the mug on the floor before looking back to him; “Nolan.” “Yes?” “Don’t you think you should be heading off?” Nolan hesitated, as if that didn’t say everything; “…Kicking me out now?” “I just don’t want to see the CEO I’m looking after be reprimanded for being late.” He tipped his mug back and set it, empty, next to yours. “Well, my PA probably has a point…” He straightened his cuffs and brushed himself down, before turning to you. But he paused and this was a fatal mistake. You’d had enough – and Nolan was hesitating – you reached out and grabbed his tie, tugging him to your lips. The sheets slipped from your body and he covered you instead – causing your needy sigh against his lips. “Y- Y/N…” He swallowed hard, “If you’re so insistent I go, then I really should.” But you were both playing the game of who could hold out the longest – who would be the one to say it? Truth was you weren’t so concerned with winning the game – just with having him back between your thighs under the sheets. “Just come back to bed... it’s not that important, right?”  Nolan scoffed, but his hands were already finding yours, and he wasn’t using them to hinder your progress on his tie; “You’re the one who spent the last 30 minutes telling me how important my schedule is.” “As if you don’t change it on me last minute all the time when we’re in the office?” You raised an eyebrow and mocked his voice; “OH, Y/N, really – please, not this meeting. Push it out.” He growled, displeased, before claiming your lips roughly again, “If I wasted good coffee for nothing.” “I got to watch you make it, certainly not a waste of anything.” You pulled him back so that you could taste him; it almost tasted better from his kisses than it did from a cup. “Oh? Do you get off on that?” You gave him a wink, “It’s the little pleasures, Nolan Sorrento. About time someone taught you that…” He laid you back properly, placing a kiss to your neck, and again to your shoulder. “Well, I would like to learn…” His hands ran smoothly down your body and you sighed against the travel, “Maybe you could be my first workshop of the day.” You smirked, winding your arms around him and running your hands into his hair; “Gladly, Mr.Sorrento.” As it turned out the conference that morning wasn’t so important after all.

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7/16 - Nearly at the halfway point!!! Thank you for requesting! 💙 Thank YOU for reading! 😘😘