#keep yanking the dates around and then toss the episodes up with no warning!

[riverdale-retread]

Riverdale s6 Ep 19 (#114: Witches of Riverdale).

Friends! Romans!  This episode was unbelievable. 

I watched this on the treadmill because I’m an #overseas Riverdale fan and I get these episodes a whole month and change after the stateside folks but I had to get off the moving walkway because I was laughing too much. I haven’t experienced this much untrammeled joy from a TV show in my recent (very faulty) memory.

Some disclaimers:

I don’t know anything about Sabrina Pun-Name (I mean really, they gave a witch the last name SPELL + MAN) so if you’re someone who knows the deep lore of that show, please let me know if I’m missing the point entirely. By the way, what I got out of this episode is that Sabrina is an unethical asshole but I don’t know if having context for her life would make me feel differently. 

This recap is going to have a lot of fandom asides and performance commentary which I usually try to keep to a minimum. 

First thing!  Jughead is narrating even though he’s dead. He acknowledges that he’s dead. This is headspinningly funny because he calls himself the narrator, and he’s dead, and he’s also somehow fully aware of what’s going on while he’s technically mostly dead (in the Princess Bride way!) and telling us about it.   He’s a dead, literally unreliable narrator who is also self aware that he is both in a story and also talking to me, a Netflix subscriber.  Riverdale is genius.

The survivors of the Girls Count When It’s a Shitty Thing version of the Death of the First Born (sons) are in the lovely cemetery paying their respects to Nana Blossom. They are Heather,  Betty, Veronica, Tabitha and Cheryl.   Nana Rose gets a very beautiful pink flecked marble gravestone that looks like wounded flesh actually, so given that she died of asphyxiation following immolation, this choice is very Cheryl. 

I’m assuming that everyone else got a headstone too just gauging from where people are looking and gesturing, but the production doesn’t actually show us, I assume for budget issues.

Poor Cheryl. How come fandom never talks about Cheryl’s trauma?  She’s always been so tribal and family obsessed, but one by one all her family has died before she even reached 30. 

Percival has the gall to show up to this gathering with Uncle Fucking Frank in tow. 

Cheryl, in the throes of her grief, yells at him about killing “my Nana and my Tee-Tee.”  Cheryl grieves literally nobody else.

Veronica yells at Percival about killing Anthony because Baby Anthony was a Baby. Percival takes his leave, which makes Jughead sound suddenly energized. He tells us with palpable gusto - “I’ll let you in on a secret.”  To which I must wonder - Who does he think he’s talking to?

The funeral was a misdirect, he says, because it wasn’t a genuine funeral since no actual bodies were in the grave. They’re dead, for sure, and in the morgue freezers.  Jughead says this like somehow this is exceptional, even though it isn’t.

We cut to Dr. Curdle (no longer referred to as Junior) eating a  sandwich dead-eyed and alone in his work room (complete with apple!).  I object to this.  Dr. Curdle is a fun funky little weirdo - he’s a big fan of Josie and he’s music night date (boy?)friends with Principal Weatherbee. Why is he relegated to having a sad solo sandwich lunch in his depressing workroom? His meal is so wholesome too - milk, apple, sandwich. He is pivotal to all the Scooby plans and yet nobody thinks to invite him to lunch - he is no more or less off putting than Kevin or Jughead at their worst, so what gives?

Then we are given a glimpse of a moment that made the top of my head twist right off:

Kevin tends to a fussy Baby Anthony in his crib.  Kevin touches Baby Anthony and tucks him in. Which is more than the now-dead Fangs ever did before his demise. 

Kevin, Cheryl, Veronica, Heather Tabitha and Betty take in Alice’s newscast, which claims that it was gang warfare that resulted in so many deaths at the Toni/Fangs wedding celebration at the Whte Wyrm.   Betty switches it off, annoyed.  Tabitha speculates the reason for Percival not killing every First Born in town - that it would be harder to cover up.  Otherwise there might be thousands of deaths. How big is Riverdale again??

We come to the Sabrina (What was Her Name Again) Spellman introduction.  She’s Buffy, right?  “Cheerleader by Day, Queen of Hell by Night” sounds like Buffy Summers, who had an intentionally silly name and not as on the nose as Spell-man.  Heather is doing the exposition dump on Sabrina. 

The resurrection attempted by the necromancing witches have to be performed within 3 days. You know. Like that other guy. The guy who came back on the 3rd day.   They only have 12 hours left, is what Veronica says, but Sabrina is nowhere to be seen.  

Cheryl has decided to display, among all her other art (like the one dedicated to long-forgotten Minerva Marble), her self portrait as a Vixen/ Furry / Fox Head thing to all her friends, who presumably are too wigged out to notice or ask about it. 

Kevin wants to know how and why Baby Anthony didn’t die, even though he was a First Born.  So how exactly does the First Born business work though?? First born to either parent qualifies? (Jughead wasn’t FP’s first born but I suppose he was Glady’s).   Betty points out that Kevin is also a first born. But then again, not every single first born in Riverdale died, so what gives?

Apart and hidden from the others, Kevin tells Betty that he thinks the reason he was permitted to survive this very shoddily constructed plague was to be punished with survival.  This is bullshit.  He has no answer to what would be worse than murdered or how survival counts as punishment.  No answer, none. He just says this so he can join Moose, who has already absconded to NYC.  He makes shit up about doing this to ‘protect’ others.  Betty arbitrarily says that ‘everyone else will understand’ but actually I think Kevin is RUNNING AWAY FROM single fatherhood with Baby Anthony.  Betty understands the urge to run away from being a parent, apparently, but the facts are these:

Baby Anthony is an orphan now, and the person who would’ve been his third parent, the person who in fact began court proceedings to gain sole custody over him is completely abandoning him now that he’s alone in the world (notwithstanding the complete faith that everyone decides to have put in Sabrina).  Kevin is a POS.

Meanwhile, Reggie, who I think is also a first born, has just made a delivery to Percival of the Daggers of Megiddo (which google says is a thing invented in the Omens movie series, and are weapons intended to defeat the antichrist) all the way from Rome. 

He did what now? Reggie went to Rome and obtained “arcane objects of immense power” on his own and we don’t get to see any of it?   

Reggie is a very precise speaker. He says he did enjoy the trip to Rome, but is irked by the death of his ‘high school friends.’  Not “friends from High School days,” not “old friends,”  and definitely not “friends” in the present sense.  

While Veronica was absent from the Babylonium for all of exactly 60 hours, Percival has managed to call a board meeting, mind control everyone into both showing up and doing his bidding (I presume mind control was involved, though Veronica was not actually beloved by her own board) and got Reggie installed as CEO. 

Either Veronica doesn’t know or she doesn’t care, because she’s ensconced at Thornhill with all the surviving girls of Riverdale.   Betty bursts in on the sad group, who are just staring off into the middle distance, to say that Mary Andrews asks her what’s going on with Archie, about whom she had a ‘bad feeling.’  Betty sounds rather frantic as she asks what they will tell Mary Andrews if the resurrection plan doesn’t work. 

I’m going to do two things here : 1) snort at the idea that Mary Andrews gives enough of a shit about Archie to have any sort of long distance intuition about him whatsoever and 2) be sad at the thought that absolutely nobody, not JB, not Gladys, nobody, has any sort of need to keep in regular contact with Jughead to make the same kind of inquiry. 

Remembering she is Catholic only in moments of need (like most of us), Veronica cautiously asks where ‘the souls’ of the deceased are, so that we can get the theology download.   They’re all in the Sweet Hereafter!

We get shown what that is!!

They’re playing Fred Astaire’s Cheek to Cheek throughout for this portion. I love this song and in this rendition.  “Heaven/ I’m in Heaven/ and My Heart beats so/ that I can hardly speak” is the way the lyrics go.  In case we the audience might be confused about what this place is. (The lyrics will do the heavy lifting the scriptwriters refuse to engage with!)

Archie’s Sweethereafter are a wife and two kids in front of a heavily laden dinner table in his house that he never wants to leave. The wife is Betty.  They named their kids Polly and Fred. 

I don’t understand this culture of naming people after other people, especially not those who lived unhappy lives or died violent deaths.  My culture doesn’t do this.  Plus there’s something frightening about Betty naming her kid Polly - it’s not as awful as naming her ALICE perhaps, but Betty had a lot of intensely negative, conflicted feelings about Polly.   Same with Archie naming his son after his father.  Grandpa Fred is such a sainted presence in Dad Archie’s mind, that I am immediately worried about Little Fred.

Little Fred is great at music and sports, but performs academically poorly. How interesting! In Archie’s perfect world, he wants a son who struggles academically and is only good at the things that he himself tried to be good at. I say tried to be, because it’s not clear whether Archie ever got actual A’s in music or if his one child molestor teacher gave him those grades for obvious reasons.  This is the opposite of, say, the desires of Forrest Gump, who also struggled but wanted his son to be really good at school.  Archie’s heaven is appallingly self serving - he wants his kid to be bad at school so he can comfort his kid about bad grades.  He will concede a daughter to Betty that achieves as much as she did.  

Oh and his same dog from his childhood is an immortal freak animal that never died.   OR he did the Michael Jackson thing and insisted on owning a series of dogs that he called Vegas over and over.

Jughead’s heaven is markedly different.  He is served coffee by Pop at the thriving Diner, with an array of Mad House Glads, his comic book, laid out in front of him.  I know this is exposition but the egotism of this is so funny.  Jughead in heaven is only inspired by the evidence of his own prolific creativity.  Oh, and further, Jughead has great draftsmanship in Heaven, instead of his sad stick figure art that he had to make do with in reality. 

Toni and Fang’s joint heaven is a very weird mishmash. I suspect (because I don't like Fangs) that this is Toni’s heaven and Fangs is just along for the ride (much like Heaven Betty is in Archie’s fantasy). 

Serpents and the Ghoulies sign a peace treaty on what looks like parchment paper. They have expensive pens in a little marble and brass stand like they’re at a summit of actual political leaders.  I am surprised they don’t have tiny flags arrayed to mark the occasion. Toni’s vanity is on a scale I had not expected from her to date.   She wants to act like head of state, and for GANGS to function like sovereign nations.  Toni takes the title Serpent Queen really very literally.  (I also think she doesn’t know a whole lot about the way treaties between warring nations frequently DON’T function, but she studied social work and not history or polisci so I will have to let this go.) 

Fangs says that Riverdale will be ‘more unified’ but I’m not sure what this means. The two gangs are no longer at war, so are they diving up territory? Did they merge?? 

Anthony is all grown up and looks older than both of his parents.  And Twyla is there with her son Timmy. The two boys look at each other meaningfully.  I’m very surprised by how much Anthony is styled like Malachai, formerly of the less Disneyfied Ghoulies - cut off sleeves, curls, muscular.  And Timmy the Ghoulie Prince is Jughead coded.

Back in the real world, Kevin is hurriedly packing up.  I hate him because he takes care to pack a big framed photo of Baby Anthony in the act of abandoning Baby Anthony wholesale. There was no discussion at all whatsoever for who should be responsible for keeping this infant alive in Kevin’s absence, you know, but gosh, Kevin will take A PHOTO with him. He is met at the door by his father and Uncle Fucking Frank, who say Percival wants a word.

Meanwhile, Reggie invites his father to come over and enjoy himself at the Babylonium, dancing and swaggering alone in the CEO suite in front of his own Lodge-esque portrait.   Reggie’s main connection to anything in this world, love or hate, is about his father, but his main influence is Hiram. 

And finally!  We are introduced to Sabrina Spellman, who took her own sweet time coming over to Riverdale because there were other things happening in other “realms.”

Then follows what must be a crossover or something because I just lost my mind. 

But I have to also ask: Am I supposed to hate Sabrina Spellman after seeing her in action? Is this what she was like on her own show?  A self serving, obnoxious liar? 

The next bit is loosely organized into a list of Sabrina Spellman’s Sins Against Riverdale:

Sabrina Sin 1: Forced conversion under a situation of duress

They are down to a precious few hours to resurrect the dead, and the first thing Sabrina makes everyone do is convert to a new religion.  They have to do a bunch of things - sign a document, chant a chant, do a dance.   All while the confirmed actual witches wink and smile at each other like creeps.  By the way, the conversion ritual is done in common speech, but I will note that Sabrina also uses Latin for her spells!  The ones that count!

However, the ceremony looked like a lot of fun and the Catholic Church could take some notes.

Sabrina Sin 2: Give incomplete information

Sabrina forced desperate people to convert to her religion, then tells them only in implication that there are OTHER ways beyond the thing she wants to do first, for her own personal reasons. 

She also only explains that the dead have to WANT TO return only after they have Jughead out of the freezer and on their ceremonial table. Except, of course, this also turns out to be a bald-faced lie.

Sabrina Sin 3: Sabrina doesn’t have to pick the body of a person she finds fuckable as the test subject to bring back from the dead as the No 1. candidate.  But she picks Jughead on the basis of finding him more fuckable than Archie.  (Given that they’ve left a baby behind, shouldn’t Fangs or Toni be the first one she picks, you know, for humanitarian reasons??)

Sabrina Sin 4:  Sabrina does not need to be the one to go, at all, to persuade the almost-completely-dead to return.  She has no connection to Jughead (or anyone) but she insists on going so she can fuck her boyfriend using Jughead’s reanimated corpse.  

The truncated bits of information she delivers is passive-aggresively designed to dissuade Jughead from coming back to life, more than anything else.   This is a complete nonstarter, to say to someone who is in some version of heaven, Come Back and Fight a Terrible Battle.  

Jughead turns out to be aware he is dead and in heaven and  to have a memory of his own death which he recalls with pain. To be fair, Jughead’s death was the most terrifying - he was absolutely alone, underground and afraid and in pain. Jughead also has retained all of his memories, including the fact that Tabitha told him they are overwhelmingly likely to lose.  

Jughead also mentions as a passing point, almost, that he can hear in heaven. Which means being unable to hear had persistently been upsetting him while alive, even though he did not ever, ever complain about it, to anyone, Tabitha included.  After a childhood in which those he loved most barely ever noticed his very serious troubles and pains, he just carries this behavior of being completely silent about his misery into his adult life. He’s a very heartbreaking character, if you ever take a breath to think about it. 

Sabrina really does not try, at all, whatsoever. In some ways, she CAN’T because doesn’t KNOW any of these people, and in fact never bothered to ask key questions before she made the leap into the supernatural. She did not bother to ask Tabitha or Betty or Veronica or Cheryl (Jughead’s current VIP,  former VIP, and people who’ve known him the longest) what would be motivating factors to bring up to Jughead to get him to leave heaven.  

I can only conclude that Sabrina never intended to succeed in bringing Jughead back, and she only pretended to come up with this idea of fucking Jughead’s body at the last minute, even to Jughead.  

By the way, getting Riverdale information initially through fandom Tumblrs can be a very confusing experience. I saw the gifs about this episode weeks ago, and you know, anti-Jabithas did some bad faith editing there.  Jughead does say about Tabitha, “I do hope to see her soon,” but that’s where the gifset ended.  They left out the smirkily joking context of the rest of the scene, because Jughead immediately adds: “NOT TO SOON THOUGH.”  

While all that is going on, Kevin is being mind-invaded by Percival.  Kevin’s touchstones to sanity are - his childhood friendship with Betty and Veronica in S1 before it fell apart (this is very honest of the show), the brief moment of domestic cohesion with Toni and Fangs in S5 before that fell apart, and the one time he dressed up in a beehive wig with a full face of make-up during the Hedwig episode. He asks to be killed instead.

Anyhoo.

We are back at Thornhill where Sabrina walks out of the portal with the reanimated Jughead corpse.  Tabitha is elated to see Jughead, runs into his arms, says how much she missed him.  

The fact that Betty has absolutely nothing to say is a little shocking to me, but we’ll let that go. ( No we won’t, actually. I mean!  It seems so out of character! Does Betty now hate Jughead? But how is that possible??  It’s only when Nick says “What’s up ladies?” that Betty snarkily comments that it can’t be Jughead - why? Because he talks to women? But Jughead has never been shy or incompetent at wooing women, ever. It’s MEN’s romantic attentions he has a hard time with.  What the heck?)  

Sabrina Sin 5:  Sabrina the asshole smiles with inappropriate glee as she tells Jughead’s girlfriend and buddies that she’s inserted her own boyfriend’s soul into Jughead’s body.  Tabitha is both tearful and furious.  She says all the right things - You stole his body?? - and the suddenly super articulate Sabrina has all the answers lined up.  It’s understandable that Jughead didn’t want to leave heaven!  She “borrowed” his body “with Jughead’s consent” because we are not in a Wonder Woman movie!

Sabrina Sin 6:   Sabrina does not say she needs Nick there to do what she should have done to begin with - send in people who have an actual emotional connection with the dead to try to get them to come back.   This only proves that the entire shenanigans about shoving Nick Scratch into Jughead’s body after deciding Jughead’s corpse is cuter than Archie’s was just a way to get a warm sex toy.   

Because Sabrina has this unfair advantage of power and knowledge, none of the new witches dares to question her for wasting ALL THIS TIME in doing this bullshit with the Jughead corpse. 

I suppooooose you could say that Sabrina had to do this magic trick bit with reanimating Jughead’s corpse with her boyfriend’s soul so that she could get the buy in from the rest to temporarily die in order to visit the Sweet Hereafter to get their people back, but I still say that’s a post-facto justification and not persuasive.  These women were willing to call in a necromancer, and dance to the goddess Hecate and do all this other stuff, so she could’ve probably persuaded them without getting herself this nice bonus.   And wasting time (I cannot emphasize this enough). 

At this point though, I started to find this entire thing kind of funny.  Jughead has officially the most desirable body in Riverdale. Like, literally the most attractive and the most fuckable, even 60 hours after death, chilling in a freezer.  Not Archie of the Abs and the Square Jaw. Not Fangs, also of the Abs and Long Lashes.   It’s Jughead.

Then the two best people in Riverdale - who are a) Cheryl and b) Veronica - agree to die temporarily so that they can, respectively, retrieve an ex girlfriend who married a man and that man, and an ex boyfriend who cheated  on her with her best friend from high school after the two of them flaunted their relationship in her face so much that she had a minor nervous breakdown at someone else’s rehearsal dinner.  Oh and Cheryl will go in for Dagwood and her Nana as well. Betty can’t go because she is confirmed by Nick Scratch on sight to be the Whore of Babylon.   

Maybe you needed to be a CAOS viewer, but the degree to which Sabrina completely accepts her boyfriend’s conclusion without question struck me as very odd.

So Sabrina is going to summon Charon to do the crossing over.  Betty is the one that nudges Veronica into dying for Archie. It’s a form of full circle, I suppose - Veronica once gulped down a goblet of poison for Betty, so she might as well be a full service third wheel.(I hate this place. Please let me out.)

Percival demands that Reggie execute Kevin, in exchange for giving Kevin’s heart to Reggie’s ailing father.  Reggie’s reaction - adorably appalled - and his reason (he and Kevin go all the way back to “rugrat” days) were a balm given how much pain I was in about Veronica at this moment.

Then we get to a truly wonderful part of this episode (sincere!).   The three best girls of Riverdale (Tabitha, Cheryl and Veronica) are  lying on the floor, ready to die.  Veronica is worried about it hurting, but Cheryl, truly faithful, is “excited” to be able to say she died and came back.  Veronica lets the air out of her sails by saying, not incorrectly, that a lot of people can say that in Riverdale. 

Nick Scratch has to use an English language incantation, but so far, out of everyone who has done one of these, he gives it the due weight and seriousness of an actual magic spell.  Or maybe this is an innate Jughead ability that Nick Scratch is making the most of.  Jughead had such a good time using the formalist portentous language of the G&G game back in the day after all.   

Then Sabrina summons Charon with another English language doggerel poem.

AND CHARON APPEARS and we are in an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the 1990s. Like TOTALLY  this is a Buffy episode!  I’m so into it now!  The red glowing eyes of Charon (no face to minimize special effects costs), the dorkily choreographed way he moves, the magic trick of collecting the coins on the girls’ eyes without touching them, the twinkly music, the very basic fog effect, and the fact that the ‘dead souls’ are expressed as glowing technicolor versions of the girls - just SO BUFFY.   It’s so FUN!!  Betty and Heather are appropriately creeped out by Charon. I LOVE that little performance detail Betty has where she just does not want to make eye contact with Charon.    

When the souls of the three brave girls leave for the beyond, Betty as The Responsible One asks what should happen next, and Sabrina puts her and Heather on guard duty.  Then Sabrina and Jughead as occupied by Nick Scratch smirk at each other about ‘going on a date’ and get a TERRIFIC nasty look from Betty.  (I love Lili Reinhart so much- she makes really fun decisions about how Betty reacts to any outlandish scenario.)

Veronica, in Archie’s heaven, lives right down the street and comes over only rarely.  Archie is living in a version of heaven where he won the war and then died.  This seems slightly different from the heaven Jughead was occupying during Sabrina’s visit.  Veronica says to a very stubborn Archie, who doesn’t want to leave his heaven, that he’ll “do the right thing,” not least because the Real Betty is still on the mortal plane, needing his help.  Dream Betty comes home. Dream Betty cooks and is able to offer to set out an extra plate at her table on a whim.  Dream Betty and Archie’s ideal Veronica are most definitely not best friends, definitely not B&V.  Dream Betty will look at a clearly rather upset Veronica, smile at her like a robot and blandly say “It’s nice to see you” before breezing off.  

I kind of hate Archie. 

In Toni and Fang’s dream world, they’ve stayed married for however old this tall muscular curly-haired Baby Anthony is supposed to be.  Very straight looking.  But!  Their son grew up gay (or bi, unclear).   The level of unnecessary ambiguity they’ve built into his coming out about who he wants to marry is annoying.  He wants to marry Twyla Twyst’s son Timmy.  When his parents act overjoyed at this announcement, No-Longer Baby Anthony says, joyfully relieved, that he wasn’t sure how they were going to take the news. 

Why? Because they are going to become in-laws with the Ghoulie leader who once cooperated with Percival to kidnap Anthony?   Or because he thinks his parents are straight married people who are uncomfortable with gayness? (But how can that be?  Toni and Fang’s generation of Serpents could barely scrape together a single straight person.)

Cheryl comes bursting into their domestic bliss with a very loud record scratch sound.  She should’ve gotten her slowmo entrance with a hair whip, but I suppose Sabrina wasted too much time up front for that.  

Cheryl is a trooper.  Or maybe she doesn’t pick up on this but in Toni and Fang’s joint heaven, Cheryl is a vile evil person, permanently left out in the cold as all the straights  and bis get straight married and leave her resentful gay ass behind.  Fangs says that in his version of heaven, Cheryl was a person who tried to sabotage her brother’s marriage to Polly, and also tried to sabotage Toni’s marriage to Fangs.  Cheryl advises Toni to search her “mother’s heart” for the truth, then leaves forthwith.

When Tabitha bursts in on Jughead’s heaven, the sound track plays the song Guardian Angel.  Yes OK, we get it.  

Jughead’s heaven has grown to include more people than when Sabrina visited earlier in the day.  He now has fawning fans, and I must say, rather adorably Jughead fawns right back at them. In particular he is given the proper fan freak out moment by a lanky kid who is obsessed with his works, sounds lonely, and says that not only did Jughead’s work get him through tough times, Jughead’s imaginary characters are really friends to him.  To this last part, Jughead says, Yeah, Me Too.

(Is this a wink wink nudge nudge commentary about the fact that Jughead is The Narrator?)

Jughead’s heaven does not have any meaningful intimate relationships, which is very interesting. Is Jughead’s heaven one where he’s asexual?  Or is it that he’s less controlling and prone to delusion as Archie - Jughead isn’t going to do anyone the injustice of inventing a false version of themselves to be his personal Barbie.  He wants to eventually spend eternity with Tabitha, but will wait for the real Tabitha instead of inventing one (unlike Archie and his Dream Betty).

Tabitha also finds Jughead’s joy in having someone give him positive feedback too adorable to interfere with, so she decides to let him enjoy himself.  Immediately after seating herself at the counter, she is greeted by the Angel Raphael from RiverVale, who wants to tell her some things.  We don’t get to hear what they are.

Meanwhile, Cheryl walks into someone’s heaven. It has Polly married to Jason, Nana Rose is still alive, and Dagwood is buddies with his father whom he’s never met in real life.  

Did Polly Cooper want to be married to Jason and be mistress of Thornhill (with the Parentdale generation of Blossoms long dead and forgotten?)?  

Is this Jason’s heaven? It can’t be, because Jason has nothing to say in this heaven either.   

Does Dagwood, as a minor, get to choose his heaven? If so, is Dagwood’s heaven one in which he is not a twin and is an only child to boot?  

And Nana Blossom - I’m not sure what Nana Blossom’s heaven would be (being courted by smarmy young men armed with red roses a la Reggie, perhaps) - but being the great grandma in this sort of setting hardly fits the Nana Rose we’ve seen to date.  

IF this is Jason’s heaven as well then he shares a weird code with Dagwood - because in this world, Cheryl does not live at Thornhill and is also an infrequent visitor, given the way Polly greets Cheryl (“Cheryl!  [big pause, then, hesitantly] We weren’t expecting you!”).  Why are all these het people so gross and refuse to appreciate Cheryl?

By the way, to the right of this cute /creepy family tableau, there is a decapitated baby doll’s head on a side table next to the blank easel in the living room.  Just FYI.

What Polly tells Cheryl makes me wonder if this isn’t somehow Cheryl’s heaven. The maple business is booming, trees are swollen with sap, and Polly is going to have a triplet of Blossoms, so now there will be 5 little Jason progeny running around.  Because Cheryl’s heaven is - now that I think of it - to get out of Thornhill but have it prosper and be allowed to visit whenever she wants.

But since Polly is the one doing all of the talking, the most reasonable conclusion is that this is Polly’s heaven. (Jason too, likely wanted to escape Thornhill, not be master of it.).  This makes me think very different thoughts about Polly than before. 

Polly the Dead invites Cheryl the Living into staying in Polly’s Heaven forever, but even though Cheryl is so pleased by this vision and what it gives her, she doesn’t fall for it.

Then we cut to Jughead the Possessed on a date with Sabrina the Asshole. I am going to assume that this is a post coitus meal. 

Sabrina confesses that her taking Jughead’s corpse specifically so she could fuck her dead boyfriend with it was absolutely a deliberate choice made out of pure opportunism, without a single care that this was wasting the time of people who counted on her to help them prevent The Apocalypse.  She even suggests that they abscond with Jughead’s corpse to live in a cabin somewhere. 

Was the intention of introducing this character supposed to result in my despising her?  Is she meant to be a villain?  But she’s not being treated like one in the text. 

Nick is an asshole just like his girlfriend so they only talk about their own interests.  She weeps about whatever situation they are in, and I have no idea what she’s talking about and I frankly don’t care because she’s a dick. I’m glad she doesn’t get what she wants. Who the fuck are you and why are you in my show?

Then Sabrina Spellman kisses Jughead Jones’ corpse on the mouth and I got my first taste of what it might be like to be a diehard Barchie or Bughead watching the other ship’s scenes. I HATE THIS! PUT IT AWAY.

Back at the casino, the Mantle men are having dinner.  Reggie gets his father’s absolute approval for the first time ever.   Then the worm turns and his father tells Reggie that he knows he’s dying.  Reggie, at this point, is completely willing to kill Kevin for his father.  

Reggie’s father says that even though he failed at business, marriage and fatherhood, he wants to die with honor. 

OK. Three things.   

One - I don’t know about the word choice of HONOR here because I just get the heebie jeebies when English language programming give Asian people any line that mentions the word HONOR.  (Nobody in contemporary Asia talks like this and in the East Asian self imagination of the past they also do not have people prattle on about HONOR. This is a white stereotype of Asian people all smooshed together and it’s always completely shit.  Yes, I am the authority on this. Accept it.)  

Two - That said, Jughead sneering at him during his early Serpent membership days that Reggie doesn’t know what “honor” is provoked Reggie into trying to punch Jughead in the face, so nice callback, I guess?

Third, Marty Mantle is selfish to the very last.  His personal desire to ‘die with honor’ is so unhelpful to Reggie, and doesn’t ameliorate any of the failures of his life or what he did to Reggie as a child.  He just wants this last vanity for himself.  I reject this redemption arc attempt for Marty Mantle.   Plus this is very gendered of me probably, but I much prefer that men stay alive and live long to do the dishes and change the diapers and wash the windows than ‘die with honor’ in some stupid glorious annihilation.  Please stay alive and scrub the toilet bowl.

 At the morgue, Sabrina and Nick say solemn farewells to each other while little birds come to watch. Sabrina sexually molests Jughead Jones’s corpse a second time before Nick Scratch eases back into the land of the dead. They play very obtrusive sad piano music over this but I’m repelled and confused.  Would it have been impossible to give us a very small short exposition dump about who the hell these people are and what is going on via Heather? 

The sourness of this scene is immediately washed away though by the very next scene.

Reggie, in his lonely big luxury bedroom that he stole from Veronica using the help of the devil (I love Riverdale) cries out, ‘What the hell am I supposed to do?’ about his father’s unknowing rejection of the plan to harvest Kevin’s heart for a transplant. He’s immediately answered by his own voice emanating from the Reggie Puppet.   Reggie’s conscience is much more intelligent than his normal self but the thing is, I am inclined to think that Reggie’s conscience refuses to cohabit with Reggie in his body.  Reggie’s conscience works via Puppet Zoom.  

Reggie’s distant relationship with his conscience is shown by his calling it “Bro.”    Riverdale is brilliant.

Reggie says that this is Percival testing him, and is advised by his own conscience that the best course of action is to skip town with the whole test - Kevin, his Dad, himself. 

Sabrina comes back to Thornhill, where again, nobody is asking about the Cheryl-with-A Fox’s-Head self portrait given absolute pride of place.  She asks, not very interested, on how they all made out with the highly dangerous mission to the Sweet Hereafter.  (The show also skimps out on telling us how they got back.  I wanted to see Charon bring them back.)   

Betty, the one who wasn’t Good (™) enough to even get to visit, is the one who loudly blares out that everyone failed.  This is very in character for Betty. She’s annoyed at everyone else’s failure.  Cheryl adds that ‘some’ of them were hostile (meaning Fangs, mostly).  

I want to punch Sabrina in her perfect pretty face for the way she smirks at Tabitha as she asks if Tabitha managed to “pull at Jughead’s heartstrings.”  Oh. My God. You bitch. I don’t know what happened to you on your show, but I’m glad your boyfriend is dead and you have Aunties who did whatever it was that made you cry. 

Tabitha says she just could not bring herself to ask Jughead to come back, to pull at those heartstrings.  Jabitha are fascinating - it’s sort of what happens when two too-good people, used to sacrifice and duty, get together.  Tabitha cannot bring herself to insist that her happy boyfriend come back to life, especially because she told him the truth about the overwhelming number of realities in which their mission fails and he dies.

Betty decides that everyone who doesn’t want to do what she needs them to do is crazy, and she’s backed up by Veronica who decides that the best thing to do in the face of resistance against what she thinks is right is to use brute force.

So, Sabrina, playing hide the ball TO THE LAST, finally reveals that Cheryl has the power of the phoenix and can summarily yank people back from the dead.  

Cheryl, going from reclining to gesticulating, is delightful. She asks what the hell the Power of the Phoenix is.  Even though Heather wasn’t allowed to give us the Sabrina-and-Nick exposition dump, she unhelpfully gives the useless definition of what a phoenix is. (Did Cheryl really not know?).  

This is coo-coo bananas. But I’m also kind of feeling it.

You said it Cheryl.

Heather finally lays out what the risks are:  Souls might return incomplete!  Infected with malignancy!  And will (she says MIGHT but actually it’s WILL)  resent you for the rest of their (un)natural lives!  (Just like Buffy did, when she revealed she’d been in heaven to her necromancer witch friend in the musical episode!)

 Betty seems to do a quick calculation of who has died, and she’s very indifferent to most of their potential resentment and further seems to trust that Archie probably won’t resent her. (Whatever Toni, Fangs, Dagwood and Jughead might feel about anything is of no interest to her whatsoever.)  Tabitha, the only one armed with real information about the potential futures, says that they really don’t have a lot of choice, because the worst is “yet to come.”

Cheryl is the best person in Riverdale. She really is. She’s told by Sabrina the Asshole that she has to burn all the corpses so that they may HOPEFULLY rise from the ashes. This thesis is untested then. AND she has to do it all alone, and given the hostile presence of people like Betty, take on all the blame if it fails.  But she steps up and says she’ll do it in the mines without hesitation.

Reggie’s escape plan does not quite work.  Reggie, Kevin and Marty are caught before they even gets to leave the building. Percival is not surprised, but is disappointed by Reginald.

Cheryl is not as good as Jughead’s corpse in reciting an incantation, but the spell works anyway.

To let the audience know that at minimum, Archie will not resent Betty and Toni will not resent Cheryl, we are briefly shown that Archie was willing to come back to “Fight the War” and Toni came to the realization that her reality in heaven was a fabrication.  Whoever constructed the Toni-Fangs heaven did a shitty job.  They didn’t bother making up any further photos for the photo album!  

As their corpses magically burn, the heaven-selves start to heat up.  Jughead is not given any chance to have a change of heart about coming back alive.  He’s going to be the only one yanked out of a perfect-for-him heaven in which he was perfectly happy to be resurrected in a reality in which he knows he is overwhelmingly likely to suffer a SECOND miserable death in his twenties.  

We get a Harry Potter fiery phoenix CGI effect to prove that the spell worked, after which we are shown Jughead, Dagwood, Nana Rose, Toni, Fangs and Archie walking out whole and hale from the blue flames.

Sabrina is walked out of Thornhill by Cheryl looking gorgeous in a red dress. What Sabrina does next puts the final nail in my I Hate Sabrina Spellman casket.   Sabrina tells Cheryl to “just be careful” which is a slap-buying offense for being fucking vaguefor something as serious as upsetting Death.  Sabrina didn’t give the warning for the potential risks for the spell caster before the spell was cast, and doesn’t give a proper explanation for what the risks are now that she’s taken the risk.  

Jughead is silent in his misery as he always is, and this time his pain is about being brought back to corporeal life on the mortal plane.  In very gentle, kind tones, Tabitha tearfully explains that he had to come back to the cold miserable reality of actual life in order to fight off the apocalypse. Then, because she’s Jughead-coded Tabitha says secondly that she wanted her boyfriend to not be dead because she loves him.   

It turns out Jughead can hear AND read thoughts. He says that this ‘cushions the blow.’  Which means it had REALLY been bothering him but he never spoke of the misery his hearing loss gave him.  

I’m worried that Jabitha are going to self-abnegate into oblivion.   And maybe this has to do with fitting into camera angles, but Tabitha is developing the same terrible hunched posture as Jughead.

At Thornhill, Heather asks  Cheryl how things really were in the Sweet Hereafter.  This suddenly made me a huge fan of Heather.  Heather understands that there is a public and private Cheryl, and also that access to the private Cheryl requires a soft touch, to be made in utmost confidence and discretion. 

Cheryl admits that she was pained to see her family happy without her, but that she took matters into her own hands.   Cheryl resurrected Polly, Jason and Dagwood!  As Heather looks very freaked out, Polly and Cheryl smile creepily at each other.   Polly came back wrong, right? Right?

Betty and Archie are cuddling, because Archie is given lead boy cushioning and went from being with Dream Betty to Actual Betty.  Betty is a smartie and laughs at the very dumb choices that Archie made in heaven to name their kids Polly and Fred.  The show is not as vicious to Archie as it is to Jughead, but it is unkind.  Archie is not very talented at music from the point of view of a teacher who doesn’t want to molest him and he didn’t have very good boxing skills from the point of view of a coach who knows the sport, and in his heaven he picked names for his dream children that his living actual girlfriend thinks are uncreative, because he’s just not smart.  

Tabitha checks in on Veronica.  Veronica is given not great news that she could be Endgame with Archie in the same percentage as Barchie being endgame.  Um.  Tabitha says as a conclusion that Veronica’s future is ‘up for grabs.’ Which could mean I dunno JERONICA endgame or VEGGIE endgame just as well but oh man.   

Why is Veronica not more upset about what has happened with the casino? 

In the vault of the casino Kevin Keller’s father has abandoned Kevin to be executed by Percival in the morning. I mean, the Mantles are in there too but wow that is COLD.  Reggie turns out to have a magic knife in his possession. He’s determined to kill Percival.

Tabitha is doing the rounds. She checks in on Toni and Fangs.  My general impression of that apartment is it being dank and dark, but with Tabitha there it’s revealed to be a bright yellow interior, with flowering hanging plants.  Is this the magic of Tabitha?  

Fangs, by the way, still has not touched Baby Anthony.  He and Toni are seated next to the crib staring at the baby, but he doesn’t touch him. At all. What gives??

Tabitha tells them that Baby Anthony is immortal.   Then she announces that she is Riverdale’s guardian angel.  She is lit like the Virgin Mary in Renaissance paintings as she says this.  

[watermelonlipstick]

Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever. 

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

           “Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

           He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

           You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

           Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

           Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

           “The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

           That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

           He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

           “Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

           You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

           “You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

           “Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

           Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

           “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

           “No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

           “It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

           “Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

           “Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

           He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

           It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

           You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

           “Can you even stand?”

           You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

           “Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

           “I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

           He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

           “Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

           His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

           “Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

           “No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

           His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

           “Dude—”

           “Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

           “You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

           “Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

           “If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

           “By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

           “Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

           “I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

           Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

           The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

           “I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

           “Long as you guys are alive.”

           He didn’t respond.

           After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

           You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

           A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

           You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

           “Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

           “A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

           Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

           He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

           The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

           You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

           “Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

-

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[blaster-aichi]

Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 15 things

belated edition because brain went on a marathon

The opening scene with Aichi appears to insinuate one of two things: either the Sanctuary Knights need Kai-kun to help stabilize his condition or, as part of a theory below, maintaining the IF World is putting a strain on Aichi that’s becoming more than he can handle with time. The latter would solve why the team suddenly intended to have him visit Sanctuary considering the lengths Aichi’s gone to to keep them apart, but just how he could fulfil the role, haven’t been able to think up anything.

Ibuki switching to Aichi’s first name being a permanent thing now. Yes. (It’s a nice idea if they’re going to play on the both switching places from high school arc)

Had theorized Kai-kun was in an otherworldly/pocket dimension location with the colouring of the scenes in the preview but Takuto summoning him begs the question of how much he has as Prisoner; why not summon Emi and the others into the castle? Or Rekka and Ren, as a means of reintroducing them to the story now that their objective overlaps with that of Suiko’s group? Also Takuto being soft mint Takuto, you little shit, don’t just dangle a life like that over a kid’s head when you know it’s more “real” than the dream he’s living in.

Someone actually drag Aichi home, he’s way too dangerous. He’s pointing swords at anyone and everyone. It speaks for how deep the distortion in him is seeping, with the pacifist we’ve seen him be over the years, to raise a sword at even Kai-kun, to attack Ibuki(’s cards, but somehow not his fingers) with it — and tossing Ibuki into the void — one can only imagine how badly he’s going to react to how far off the rails he went if he has a PsyAichi-esque realization.

Kai-kun confirmed to never hold a girl’s hand before.

How dare Bushi make the Kai Parents the softest, chillest parents when we’ve been privy to what their real selves are like. (Papa Kai mixing up Shuka and Emi slays. Sir, do you mix up your employees too?)

SHIZUKA  — seeing her anything other than bubbly is painful, particularly when it’s used to contrast the happiness of the Kai family; it serves to hammer home how only one of Kai and AichiEmi is allowed to have a family remain in tact and their happiness preserved, driving home how the other serves to be a sacrifice.

“I’m not the kind of guy who still plays Vanguard in high school!” a) did he just roast his real self (and 90% of the cast)? b) side-eyes the preview, ahaha.wav

IF then: presents itself as the most light-hearted season to date IF now: threatens murder at every turn and has the two boys who’ve been protagonists in the past both run away from home in a single season

The episode all but said in as many words that the price of Aichi’s creating/altering IF World to ensure Kai-kun’s happiness was his own presence so as not to trigger any awakening to Kai-kun’s Outside World memories, sacrificing his own happiness to be around his friends in order to allow his best friend a content, fulfilling life. But in recognizing that, and willingly giving up the illusion for the sake of someone else demonstrates just how good a kid Kai-kun is, no matter the world, no matter how cold and distant he’d portray himself in the card-centric seasons.       — Season 1 (of 2011, so different continuity but go with it) initially painted Kai-kun as a more selfish individual in order to mask the complexities of his predicament, his goal appeared to be about power in order to topple a rival, but it was demonstrable that his motivations weren’t so cut and dry: it was about getting Ren back from a state that warped him, the fear that the same was happening to Aichi before his eyes and he was scared due to his inability to prevent it. And Link Joker followed the same line of thinking: his giving into Reverse was never about power, but his fear of falling behind and not being able to keep up — bearing in mind, he had done so thus far without the involvement of any power like Ren and Aichi had experienced — his motivations had always been driven by helplessness, fear and any inability to face them head-on, finding it easier to handle if he ran away — which was a big part of why it bothered me that people would nail him as being completely selfish and stupid when giving into temptation and accepting Reverse’s power. IF’s iteration of him gets to demonstrate what would happen if he was able to communicate himself properly and follow through with what he believes, in similar vein to Legion Mate, but without the shackles of guilt and atonement; he’s experienced a happy life, and wishes not to deprive someone else of the same, but without the pride of his usual self, he doesn’t run himself into the ground overthinking, but takes action based on the emotions he freely allows himself to feel and express.

Eager to see the extent of Kai-kun’s power; Kourin stated he’s in an incomplete form, but he’s able to perform the same as Emi without the need for Shuka’s involvement and even Ride units the same way had hoped Emi was going to prior to the season’s airing. Which poses the question of how is he able to and why Aichi would allow it within a world that he tampered with to erase the relationship, unless it’s a facet beyond his reality warping ability.

Kamui’s appearance in the preview brought a thought to mind: although they’re in different branches of the school ordinarily, there’s been no evidence that Kai-kun attends Hitsue within IF, and that, in fact, with his family’s wealth, it’s possible he could even attend Miyaji instead. The line of thinking is wholly dependent on how Kai-kun reacts to Kamui and/or his uniform come epi 16, but it would be a nice nod to the dividing up of the Kai/Miwa/Ibuki trio to have them each in different schools in a similar manner to their initial divided stances in the season’s plot.

Also IF 16? Did someone order extra-cute?

A couple of theories to add to the pile (partially yanked from discord logs)

Aichi:

Something corrupted him and started fucking with his head to implant the insinuation that Kai-kun's life would have been better had he never pursued Vanguard as a hobby and the two of them never met. It could be that Ibuki Deleting Kai-kun and the subsequent struggle he had was the means for this line of thinking to worm its way in.      — In the same vein as VoidAichi, said corruption gave him the ability to warp reality, allowing for a completely happy and harmless life for Kai-kun, though it distorted things around him as a result, hence binding his page in the Akashic Records; that's a defence tactic Aichi took to prevent the change from being recognized by the Tatsunagis and an effort to correct what was clearly altered from their understanding For the sake of not risking himself being a trigger that would bring to the surface any memories of his real life, Aichi ran away from home and holed up in Sanctuary, removing any chance of Kai-kun being enlightened to the truth and allowing his perfectly happy life to continue without a hitch, and by having him get bored of Vanguard, there is no tie between them But the corruption is poisoning him and/or the strain of upholding such a world is taking its toll on Aichi, hence the beginning of the episode, and they already spelled out he himself isn't happy, it kills him to not see the person he wants to most, but sacrifices his happiness for Kai-kun's. Why he wanted Kai-kun brought to Sanctuary, idk, maybe as a brief respite, to serve as a reminder of why he's doing this, and keep his eroding spirit strong      — The corruption is what's turned him into a violent monster who's fine with hurting or pointing a sword at whoever gets in his way. VoidAichi was passive and sealed because he was a threat to his friends' peace, trapped in a position where he was a ticking timebomb, but IF Aichi is proactive and cut himself off because he's a threat to Kai-kun's happiness and can do something about it.

Also it's made pretty obvious that Aichi's tampered with Kourin, Naoki and Shingo's (and probably Miwa's) memories, which is why they're so fixated on his will and their dedication which feels kind of cult-ish, because of Naoki's glimpse of the real history after he lost the fight In his own, even more twisted way than Legion Mate, Aichi thinks he's doing the right thing, and the interference with that dreamworld isn't something he has the patience for due to the corruption, which is why he freaks out whenever Vanguard is brought up or someone opposes him

Ibuki:

The theory is Ibuki's been cast into an illusion where he relives his childhood, or maybe an ideal childhood is given to him in the same vein as IF Kai-kun to lessen his will to fight, whether to enforce just what he's up against and the hurt he could face again or to give him a glimpse of what he could be blessed with if he stops interfering with Aichi's world Shuka seeking out Emi gets a little more strength to it as well, as the only person in the world who would recognize that anything is wrong with the atmosphere at home the way it is after Aichi ran away, and no-one else knowing him because of his isolated childhood, so she's the only anchor to drag him back down.

Courtney also came up with the suggestion that Ibuki might instead be forced to loop through his torment at the Deletors’ hands, living through cycles of his attempt to erase Vanguard, to twist the knife but also try to remind him of why Vanguard is a terrible thing.

Kai family:

“I’ll see you again someday”.

The use of this line as Kai-kun’s parting words to his parents is striking: as given Shuka’s warning, the likelihood of him actually achieving this is minimal, unless for a few scenarios:     — he returns home to be with them as IF World is erased and the timeline corrected, allowing them one last time together     — post-IF, the real Kai-kun seeks out his parents. In doing so, he’s able to demonstrate to them what he was able to grow up into despite their abandonment, even if for that purpose and then to part ways with them. For the real Kai-kun, such a meeting would serve as closure and for the IF version within him, it would be one last show of love and gratitude for the life they gave him. (the latter part could apply to the real Kai-kun, appreciating the childhood he was given until they left.)     — Also the irony that they absconded for selfish purposes, shirking all responsibiliy of their child, left to fend for himself against the ire of his relatives, but when he runs away from home, it's to protect them. What a good boy.

[riyuyami]

Since I’m not letting this DW au fall flat nor am I letting my sudden urge to make ygo content vanish from lack of producing content, here’s a drabble!

Summery: Yugi just wants to leave work for the evening, but a quick chore is delaying that.

Only, he wished that was what it was, not these scary plastic people! At least a guy in a leather jacket is there to help him, right?

Right?

Warning: spoilers for those who having not seen the first episode of the new Doctor Who series, Rose. Yami Yugi from season zero/early manga is meant to be the Ninth Doctor, tho with shorter hair without the red tips, he has to look a bit different from Yugi, but he still keeps some of the leather haha. 

On with the fic!

--

Yugi couldn’t find the electrician anywhere, making this task practically pointless!

He should have just left the money bag somewhere the man would be able to find it with ease so Yugi’d get home. It’s been a long shift, and he had spent the day out and about, including a lunch date with Joey! He deserved to go home and relax at the estates with his mom.

The young man paused, having heard something in the empty maintenance hallway. At least... he hoped it was empty. 

There was a sudden bang on a door nearby and Yugi jumped, realizing that was his exit door out of here! He rushed past some mannequins to get to the door, trying to open them, but to no luck. The doors were locked! There was a sound behind him, and Yugi turned, trying to see who or what made it.

“Is there someone knocking about?” He called out, only seeing the mannequins. Carefully, he stepped down the hall, looking around. “Who is it?” He asked, never noticing that he was being watched.

Until he turned around at the sound of a strange creaking.

Staring in confusion, Yugi watched as a mannequin started to slowly lean forward, then stepped out into the hall in front of the boy. Behind the plastic thing, Yugi watched with wide eyes as other display models started to do the same as the first, moving towards him with awkward steps.

“Uh... y-you got me, very funny.” He said to the figure, this had to be a joke, right? Plastic models can’t just come to life. “I’ve got the joke! Who’s idea is this? Is it Derek’s? Is it?”

Yugi was beginning to panic, backing away as the mannequins continued to step closer and closer.

“Derek, is this you?” Yugi asked, turning around to find another plastic model moving behind him. He gasped, moving away, but they just kept growing in numbers, were all of them alive!? This had to be a prank, it just had to be!

He moved away, trying to find an exit, only to be backed up and suddenly surrounded! The mannequins lifted their arms, readying to strike, and Yugi shut his eyes, fearing what comes next.

Until a hand, a warm, flesh-and-blood hand, grabbed his own.

Turning, Yugi stared at the man to his left, dressed in leather with black and blond hair.

“Run.” He said, and Yugi was yanked, moving out of the way of the attack, that sliced right through a steam pipe!

The stranger pulled Yugi along, through a pair of doors, away from the plastic models. However, they seemed to have picked up speed and were keeping a close distance behind the pair as they ran down another hallway.

They continued to run through doors and halls, avoiding more of the strange figures, until the stranger found the service elevator. The doors opened quickly and Yugi was pushed inside, the stranger following quickly just as a fake arm shoved itself through the closing doors.

The man in the leather jacket struggled with the arm as it tried to grab at him, until it came off with a nearly-comical pop! The doors shut and they were left alone.

“You pulled his arm off.” Yugi spoke, blinking.

“Yep.” Said the other man, tossing the arm at Yugi, who just barely caught it. “Plastic.”

“Very clever, nice trick.” Yugi huffed, looking at the man suspiciously. “Who were they then, students? This a student thing or what?”

“Who could they be students?”

“I don’t know.”

The man in leather raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Well, you said it, why students.”

Yugi frowned, giving a shrug as he still held that stupid arm in his hands. “Cause... to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they gotta be students.”

He turned, smiling, giving a nod. “That makes sense. Well done.”

“Thanks.”

“They’re not students.”

The younger of the two rolled his eyes. “Well, whoever they are, when Wilson finds them, he’s gonna call the police.”

The man looked a little confused. “Who’s Wilson?”

“Chief electrician.”

“Wilson’s dead.” Came the reply just as the elevator doors opened and the man stepped out, leaving Yugi stunned at how casual that was just said. 

He snapped out of it quickly. “That’s not funny, that’s sick!” 

Yugi was suddenly stopped by the stranger, telling him to mind his eyes as he turned around and focused a strange looking pen at the elevator buttons on the wall. It made a curious sound, glowing a bright blue, before the buttons popped and sparked brightly.

The man moved away, Yugi left stunned and annoyed this time. “Well, who are you then!?” He demanded. “Who’s that locked down there!? I said, who are they!?” He called out as he chased after the retreating weirdo.

“They’re made of plastic.” The other man replied as they continued onward. “Living plastic creatures that are being controlled by a relay device on the roof! Which would be a great big problem if I didn’t have...”

He came to a stop in front of a set of doors, suddenly wiping out a strange device that was beeping, a bomb. “This!” He said, sounding a bit prideful about it.

“So!” He turned to go up a small flight of steps to get to the doors. “I’m gonna go upstairs, and blow it up! And I might will die in the process, but don’t worry about me. No, you go on, go have your lovely beans on toast!” He pushed Yugi through the doors as he spoke.

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” He continued, “cause if you do, you’ll get them killed.” With that, he shut the door, leaving Yugi confused.

The door suddenly opened up once more, and the stranger leaned out. “I’m the Doctor, by the way. What’s your name?”

Yugi blinked. “Yugi.” 

“Nice to meet you, Yugi!” The stranger, the Doctor, smiled brightly. “Run for your life!” 

He slammed the door shut again, leaving Yugi to his own devices. Which was pretty much to do exactly as the Doctor said, run! 

He had been lead outside and he made a break for it, getting away from the building as quickly as he could. Once he was a distance away, he walked carefully, making sure that those plastic things weren’t following him. He crossed the street, away from his work place, turning around just in time to see the roof of the building explode! 

People were panicking, running away, screaming from the explosion, and Yugi made a move to get back to his home before anything else crazy happened.

All the while, he still carried the plastic arm with him.

TBC

--

I might do a second part, where the Doctor shows up at the Powell Estate where Yugi lives. Yes, I know I probably should set this in Japan, but honestly? Putting this in England like the original show is a lot more fun, haha. And also, Doctor Who is very British, so it’s hard to just change up a lot of elements because nearly every episode centered on Earth is in the UK.

Also, I had to copy this scene from a youtube video with no subtitles so I might have gotten some of the dialogue wrong. 

And yes, this is tagged puzzleshipping because if any of you know the ship ninerose (or even tenrose), you know why.

Thanks for reading! I’m open to drabble suggestions for this au! :D 

[thehelleniclunarwitch]

31 Days of Halloween (Day 11)

Possession

Prompt: Ouija Board

Tim Drake x Reader

                                     xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hey you,” You answered your phone. 

“Hey, pretty lady, what are you up to?” Tim asked. 

“Just settling down with a bowl of popcorn and some movies,” You told him. 

“Care for some company?” Tim asked you. 

“I thought you were hanging out with your brothers?” You replied. 

“We were, but Dick pulled out the Ouija board. Some stuff happened and we’re all spooked,” Tim said. 

You sighed. “I told you not to mess with that thing,”

“I know, but Jason headed to hang with Roy and Dick is off with Conner, and Damian is with Jon and Billy,” Tim said. 

“Where’s Wally?” You asked. 

“Woman, can’t I just hang out with my girlfriend, please?” Tim growled. 

You chuckled. “Of course. I’m giving you a hard time. I’ll see you soon,”

“Thanks, I love you,” Tim said. 

“I love you too,” You smiled and then hung up. 

Tossing your phone down, you didn’t realize it bounced off the cushion and flipped under the couch. You kicked your feet out onto the coffee table. You only got partially into the first episode when Tim had arrived and let himself in. He shrugged out of his jacket and kicked out of his shoes. 

You smiled at him softly as he trudged across the room and then dropped down next to you. His head immediately went into your lap and he stretched out across the rest of the couch. You ran your hand through his hair and froze. 

“Tim, you’re hot,” You pointed out. 

“I know, thanks,” He chuckled. 

“No, as in I think you’re running a fever,” You said. 

Tim shrugged. “Now that you mention it, I don’t feel good,” 

“Let me go get the aspirin,” You said. 

“No, stay and snuggles,” Tim whined. 

“I can’t buddy, if you’re running a fever we need to break it,” You said. 

You slid off the couch and headed to your bathroom. Digging around you found your thermometer and the aspirin. When you closed the mirror you jumped and gasped. Tim was standing behind you, but you never heard him walk up behind you. 

“Jesus Tim,” You growled. 

“Sorry,” Tim smiled. 

“Open up,” You said. 

Tim obliged and opened his mouth. You stuck the thermometer under his tongue. You left him to head to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Tim eventually followed after you. When the thermometer beeped you turned to take it out of his mouth. Your eyes about bulged out of your head. 

“Tim, 104.6, we need to take you to the emergency room,” You said. 

Tim took the water and pills from you. “No, I’ll sleep it off,”

He downed the pills and the huge glass of water. He slammed the glass down on the counter. You jumped. 

“Timmy, that’s not how that works. I don’t think aspirin is going to be enough to break that high of a fever,” You said. 

Tim took you by surprise when he swung his hand at the glass and sent it flying across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. 

“Tim!” You exclaimed. 

Both of you looked up from the mess on the floor and back up at each other. You about jumped out of your own skin when you noticed that Tim’s eyes were completely. 

“I’m getting really tired of you mothering me,” Tim snarled. 

You backed away from him. “I was just trying to help,”

“Maybe, I just want my girlfriend to act like my girlfriend,” Tim said. 

“Oh, okay, so what would you like for me to do?” You asked him. 

Tim’s head twitched to the side twice. You cracked his neck and then refocused his eyes on you. His eyes were still pitch black. You slowly moved your way around the counter to put more distance between the two of you. 

“I want a beer and I want to sit on that couch and cuddle,” Tim said. 

“Fine. Your beer is in the pantry. If I knew ahead of time you were coming tonight I’d put in the fridge,” You said. 

“Thanks,” Tim said turning away from you. 

When he disappeared into the pantry you made a beeline for the front door. Your hands shook as you struggled to unlock all of the damn locks. Just as you yanked the door open, Tim’s arm appeared above you and he slammed the door shut. You cowered against the door as Tim stepped up behind you. 

“Where are you going?” Tim asked. 

“To get help,” You squeaked out. 

“Help for what?” Tim demanded as he flipped you around your back slamming against the door. 

“I think you’re possessed,” You whispered. 

Tim tipped his head back and started laughing. 

“Why do you think that?” Tim asked. 

“Your eyes are pure black,” You told him. 

Tim furrowed his eyebrows. He released you and stormed towards your bathroom. You ran towards the living room. You had to send a 911 text to his brothers. You weren’t going to be able to do this alone. You tossed your blanket off the couch looking for your phone. 

“Hot damn they are black!” Tim yelled from your bathroom. 

You stuffed your hands into the crack of the couch looking for your damn phone. 

“What are you doing?” Tim asked. 

Slowly, you looked over your shoulder. “You said you wanted to cuddle, right?” 

Tim nodded. You pretended to fluff the couch and then picked up your blanket. You sat on the edge and then patted the spot next to you. Tim came to join you. Tim sprawled out on the couch and then pulled you down next to him. Your back was against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you. You let one of your arms fall and dangle off the side. 

Tim started the episode where you left off. You tried to keep your breathing calm so you didn’t warn Tim that you were up to something. Your free arm started to search under the couch. It took everything out of you to not let out a celebratory noise when you finally found your phone. 

You slid it out across the floor so you could just barely see the screen. Tim snuggled into you as you opened up your phone to your messages. 

To: Batboys

Y/n

911. Do not call.

Jaybird

What’s wrong

Y/n

Tim is possessed. He has black eyes.

Dickwad

I knew it!

D-Man

On my way!

Jaybird

Me too

Dickwad

Be there soon. 

You slid the phone back under the couch so you wouldn’t alert Tim to what was going on. You continued to lay trapped in his arms while you waited impatiently for the others to show up. 

“Tim, what happened with the ouija board?” You asked. 

Tim tensed behind you. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tim said. 

“If you’re possessed we need to get you help,” You said. 

“No,” Tim said. 

“But Tim,” You began to argue. 

“I can feel him, Y/n. He’s strong. So strong. It could definitely help me to have them around,” Tim said. 

“Tim, that’s not how that works. Once it takes control of you we could lose you,” You said. 

“Yeah, well maybe that’s for the better,” Tim said. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked him. 

“I’m not Jason,” Tim said. 

“I know that,” You replied. 

“But you’re so close to Jason. You two have your own little secrets,” Tim snarled. 

“Jason and I were friends before you and I. You know this. You said you were okay with that,” You reminded him. 

“It still hurts,” Tim said. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered. 

“And don’t even get me started about you and Damian,” Tim growled. 

“What about me and Damian?” You asked in annoyance. 

“The two of you are always glued to the hip,” Tim said. 

“So what?” You growled back. 

“You make me feel like I’m not good enough for you,” Tim said. 

“Bullshit!” You growled shooting up to sit up.

You didn’t think it was possible, but you swore his eyes grew darker. 

“Whenever you say jump, I fucking jump. We hardly do what I want to do on my date nights. I always do what you want. I cater to your fucking ass. So don’t sit here and try to tell me that I don’t make you number one. That’s bullshit,” You snarled. 

Before the two of you could start getting into a huge argument your front door bust open. Jason, Dick, and Damian came storming in. 

“You!” Tim yelled before shoving you off the couch. 

“Hey!” Damian shouted.

“Now!” Dick yelled. 

Dick and Jason tossed water into Tim’s face. He screamed and fell to his knees. Damian was at your side helping you up to your feet and away from Tim. 

“Now, padre!” Jason yelled. 

You looked up to see a priest walk in and he started an exorcism. 

“No!” Tim screamed and he lunged at the priest, but Dick and Jason were stopping him. 

Damian sat with you while his brothers hold down Tim and the priest continues to do his exorcism. You were shaking as you listened to Tim scream in pain. The exorcism was going on forever. It felt like Tim’s scream were never going to stop. 

Finally, Tim stopped screaming and slumped forward. Jason and Dick slowly lowered him down. You scrambled away from Damian so you could check on Tim. You rolled him onto his back and brushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“Tim,” You whispered. 

He whimpered. 

“It’s okay Tim,” You softly said. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim croaked. 

“Don’t apologize,” You said. 

“I said some mean things,” Tim said. 

“I know, but it doesn’t bother me,” You told him. 

“I love you,” Tim said. 

You smiled. “I love you too.”

You looked up at the others. 

“No more fucking ouija board, got it?” You snapped. 

“Yeah,” All four of them said. 

You sat back with Tim in your lap and let out a long sigh. This was enough scary bullshit for you to last a lifetime. 

[quirks-of-a-fangirl]

A Quick Blurb

Here it is! My first ever writing piece. It’s a little sentimental and a lot cheesy. Tell me what you think!

Harry/OC

Word Count: 2322

Warnings: Mentions of Mental Health

1:28pm Hey just checking in. I haven’t heard from you today

3:34pm Pipes, are you ok???

5:56pm Piper I’m coming over because I just need to make sure you’re not dead

Piper glanced at the text from Harry and tossed her phone across her bed. He was always so worried. About her, about school, about work. Granted, this time around she hadn’t answered his texts or calls for a couple days. She was just so tired. Harry was probably bluffing, just threatening her to get her to finally answer. He was a worrier, but not that bad.

 Piper wasn’t feeling well. She wasn’t really sick, but she just couldn’t get out of bed. Everything just seemed really hard to do and she didn’t really feel like doing it anyway. Texting back, reading textbooks, eating food. Nothing seemed to really rouse her from her bed. Honestly, Piper wasn’t concerned about it. This happened sometimes. Her little “episodes” she called them. It was normal at this point to have a couple days to a week she just wasn’t functional every so often.

The knock at her door did little to pull her attention from her pillow. Eventually whoever it was would leave, probably an online purchase delivery she had just forgotten about. But then the lock started to sound. Fuck. Harry opened the door with his key.

“Honey, I’m hooooome,” his voice rang out in her small apartment. Fuck past Piper for giving him a key. Maybe if she was quiet enough, he would leave her to stay in her safe cocoon of blankets. Little chirps and purrs could be heard from the living room, undoubtedly where Harry was indulging Persephone with pets and loves. He wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Footsteps, both small and large, came down the hall to her bedroom. 

“Hey, bubs, up ya get. Get that arse out of bed.”

“Why the fuck did I ever give you a key?”

“Not my fault you need your cat fed while you travel the world.” She didn’t travel all that much, but the key was really more for when Harry needed feeding, not Persephone.

Harry climbed into bed with her, making the mattress dip and bounce under his tall frame. Pulling the covers off her head, he exposed her to the cold room. She reached out quickly to try to yank the covers back, but he was unrelenting. 

“Are ya having one of your episodes?”

“No, I’m just really invested in perfecting my bedhead.”

“Love, don’t do that,” he said gently, laying down beside her. He looked at her, really took her in. His eyes scanned her face, trying to read what she was trying to hide. Her hair was mussed from being in bed for two days. The purple bags beneath her eyes refused to leave no matter how much sleep she got. Harry noticed the sparkle that usually made her brown eyes unmissable was gone. It was definitely one of her episodes. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me,” he said softly. His eyes were softening more and more as he spoke.

“I’m honestly fine. Like sure, it’s an episode. But it’s nothing new. Been there, done that, keep doing it. No need to drag you into this shit,” she brushed off. It was directly against what her therapist and her had written in her “episode” plan. She knew. He knew it. And the quirk of his eyebrow reminded her he knew it. 

“So I know for a fact that Allison would make you rephrase that. But because I’m so kind, I’m just going to make you get up instead.” Allison was her therapist. Harry often talked like he was the one going to Allison for sessions, not Piper. 

“Allison is a strong believer in self care and who said that this isn’t self care.”

“Pretty sure you need to at least shower to call it self care.”

Piper pushed her greasy hair back, feeling the stringiness herself. She knew she looked worse for the wear, but she really didn’t need inhumanly pretty Harry to point it out. She took in his high cheekbones, one squished against his hand on the pillow, and his chiseled jaw. His green eyes were looking especially light today, like the first little sprouts popping up in the spring. She couldn’t see his dimples, he was far too worried about her to give her one of his dazzling smiles. She had to look away. Really how pathetic could she be? Here she was, having a depressive episode, not showered, looking and feeling a hot mess in front of her stupid beautiful best friend who she had such confusing feelings for.

“Let’s get you dressed, huh,” he offered gently.

“I haven’t showered in two days.”

“Ok, shower first. Clothes after.”

Piper slowly climbed out of bed and padded toward the bathroom. She turned on the sink and grabbed her bright pink toothbrush while the shower head burst to life. She looked over and saw Harry checking the temperature and grabbing her favorite lavender shampoo that she only used on special occasions. She hated how her heart stuttered at the gesture. Even when she was numb to everything else, even when she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else, here her stupid heart was freaking out over this boy. But then again, Harry always had that effect on her, from the first time they met during their first semester of grad school. She was standing in line for a chai at the small coffee stand in the library. He was trying to juggle his phone, wallet, and three books while in line. One of the books ended up on Piper’s foot, resulting in loud profanity from Harry. Piper just laughed it off as she noticed his green eyes and dark curls. Harry paid for her chai and her heart skipped a beat. Piper helped with his books as he told her he was here studying music all the way from England. That was that. They were inseparable despite their vastly different degree programs. They were always a package deal; everyone knew if you invited one of them, you got both of them. They were so much like a couple even though they weren’t one. Harry wasn’t “into dating right now.” He was too focused on getting his masters done. She knew that and respected that. It was just so hard to be so in love with him when she knew that it would never happen. 

Harry gave her shoulder a squeeze on his way out of the bathroom. She spit out the last of her toothpaste and then quickly showered. She did spend a little extra time washing and conditioning her hair, taking in the smell of lavender and enjoying the way the bubbles ran down her back. 

She stepped out into her room, hair and body all wrapped up in her turquoise towels that matched her turquoise comforter and curtains. Harry was sitting up against the head of the bed, legs crossed, with Persephone laying on his stomach and his phone in his hand. He looked up at her and smiled a big dimpled smile. Piper couldn’t help but let her own dimple pop out for a second. 

“Smell proper wonderful, you do, Pet.” She blushed as she went to her closet. 

“Fuck off.” She was so done with that pitter patter of her heart. She quickly closed the closet behind her and got dressed in her well worn flare jeans and an old band shirt, slipping on her old birks. 

 “What did you want with me anyway?”

“Well, love, we are going on an adventure, of course.” He grabbed her hand and she felt a tingle run up her arm. The smirk on his face told her to expect something weird from their adventure. 

Harry pulled into a parking space, cut the engine, and looked over to Piper with that devilish smirk adorning his pretty pink lips. Piper looked out the window to see the playground that was in the park nearest campus. It was near the school Piper was currently using in her research for her graduate degree. Thank goodness it was during the school day so none of her students were milling around, but she was still on the lookout. Her slight grimace twisted her features as she let Harry open her car door. She jumped out of Harry’s older than him car and waited for an explanation. Glancing over his shoulder, he started toward the swings. She huffed. Why did she just go along with whatever he wanted? 

Harry had already claimed the swing closest to the parking lot, dragging his toes in the dirt, when Piper finally made her way to the swings. She plopped down in the swing to his left, grabbing the chains on either side of her face. Harry was humming a Fleetwood song as she settled into a rhythm on her swing. She started to sing softly along.

“So do you wanna talk about it?”

She looked over at Harry who was still looking down. He knew if he made eye contact with her, she would close right back up. Piper looked straight ahead. 

“You know how it gets. Sometimes my brain goes a little haywire and takes me down for a few days.”

Still not looking at her, “Do you know the trigger this time around?”

Of course he would ask the logical question that she just did not have an answer to. She had thought about it, obviously, since it was really the only thing she had to think about lying in bed, closed off from the world. She thought she had her depression under control and then all of a sudden it wasn’t under control. She stayed quiet.

“Not sure yet?” He was so gentle with her. It was too much to handle in her fragile state. The tears welled in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to upset ya, pet. I’m sorry.”

She sniffled. “It’s not you. I’m just frustrated that I don’t know why this happened. And that it happened at all. I’m fine, really.” The look he gave her let her know that he wasn’t convinced but he didn’t push her. He never did. They continued to swing in silence for a little longer until Harry started talking about when one of his professors walked into his theory class on the phone with his wife and it the bluetooth speaker accidentally picked up the tail end of her dirty comment. It made a small giggle escape her lips.

“Miss Taffett!” Piper’s head shot in the direction of the call. She was so used to answering to her last name, especially when called from a small human. It was one of the students she worked with at the school. Piper looked down at her phone and saw that school had ended 10 minutes ago.

“Taylor! It’s so good to see you!” Piper put on her school voice and stood up to greet the young girl.

“Miss Taffett, why are you at the playground? You’re a grown up!” The little girl threw her arms around Piper’s waist. Piper hugged her back and chuckled. 

“Well what do you do when you come to the playground?”

“I play with my friends!” Piper looked over at Harry. “Well that’s what I’m doing, too!”

The young girl giggled hard and they said their goodbyes. Piper felt eyes on her and turned to see Harry smiling at her with a stupid look on his face. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head but the smile stayed. Piper brushed it off. 

The first fresh air in days was sitting nicely in her lungs and the sun was soaking through her tshirt. Everything was warming up: her skin, her muscles, her emotions. She plopped down where she was in the grass, laying down not trying to think too hard about the bugs and dirt and parasites that could get into her hair. Those not-so-cute anxiety thoughts were put to the side when the breeze picked up and the grass started to tickle the skin on her arms and raise the hairs there. She closed her eyes. After a moment, she felt a presence next to her. Harry had laid down in the grass, too. 

“I think it was hearing that song again. You know, the one he listened to constantly.”

Harry hummed. He didn’t need further explanation to know that Piper was referring to that one really popular hip hop song, the one her incredibly manipulative and awful ex-boyfriend forced her to listen to, telling her that her taste in music sucked and that she just needed to listen to his stuff. She hated all of the music he made her listen to, but he would whine and complain every time he didn’t get his way. With everything. So she just complied to make it all easier. Harry knew all about that horrible relationship, about the abuse she went through for years, so he didn’t need anymore to know that she was going through emotional flashbacks and that it just spiraled from there. 

His little finger hooked with her right pinkie. She didn’t say anything and neither did he. They just laid there, Piper trying to wade through her murky thoughts. She tried really hard to just focus on the sensations she was feeling, just like Allison had told her to. The grass swaying against her skin, the breeze picking up the flyaway hairs from her face, the sun beating down, the fingers brushing up against her own. Eventually, Harry took his hand away and started to sit up. Piper opened her eyes, realizing just then that they were closed, and looked over to her right. Harry was standing up, brushing the grass and dirt off of himself. He looked down at her with those green eyes. She was starting to feel a little better with those green eyes.

[daysswithyou]

Fallen Chapter 9: Well done again my friend

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Genre: angst, fake dating, high school romance, fluff, romance

Warnings: Mentions of blood, mild cursing

-----

Once out of the public eye, first aid personnel rushed over to take over your position, dragging Brian and Sungjin away. The sudden loss of human contact left you empty and cold, your hands already missing the warmth of his body as soon as he left you. Not wanting to go back to the roaring crowd yet not knowing where to leave, you slotted yourself carefully in a small corner, making way for the rest of the team to enter. Looking at their exuberant faces, you found yourself smiling softly at the sight, happy that their efforts for the past few months have paid off greatly. You didn’t know many of them personally, but you didn’t need to know someone to feel happy for them. You just did. At this moment, more first aid personnel rushed over, doing a once-over of the boys to check for anyone that had wounds that needed to be tended to.

The sight reminded you of the reason that you were in the locker room in the first place: Brian Kang.

Scanning the room frantically, your eyes finally zeroed in on the man sitting right on the opposite side of the room. His jersey was now gone, and you could see the entire left side of his body flare up in an angry red. It started from his shoulders till the middle of his ribcage but every inch was soon covered in blue ice packs, hastily pressed in place by the first aid personnel. His eyes fluttered shut at the cool sensation, a welcome relief from the pain he had been enduring the entire game. His ankle was being slowly wrapped up in compression bandages, and he knew that this injury would heal fine on its own. But the worst was not over yet.  Blood was still pouring down the right side of his face, the small towel he was pressing against his brow almost soaked through. The first aid personnel did a great job in clearing off most of the blood on his face within minutes, giving you a clear view of the gapping split. It was an inch-long split that started at the end of the brow, travelling up the length of his forehead. Looking at the plethora of injuries that he had on his body, you winced, wondering how on earth he could endure so much pain for half the game.

Kang Younghyun, you crazy bastard… All of those must really hurt…

You wanted to keep your eye on him longer just to make sure that he was really alright, but the moment you saw the glint of the curved, wicked stitching needle under the harsh light, you immediately turned away, not having the stomach to witness the sight of a gaping wound being stitched up. Besides, you’ve been in this space that isn’t yours to begin with for too much time, and he was in good hands now. There was no reason for you to stay any longer.

Where’s the damn exit?

Finally, you spot your saving grace right at the back, and you headed straight for it, closing the door lightly behind you once you were out in the hallway alone. Melting against the white brick walls, you exhaled deeply to let out the breath that you’ve been holding in all this while, reminding yourself to breath normally. In the quietness of the empty hallway and away from the crowd, the tranquillity of the moment gave you time to look back upon the blur of events that had just happened, each memory becoming sharper and gaining greater clarity in your mind.

The kiss.

Unconsciously, you ran your fingers lightly against your lips, remembering the feeling of his lips against yours, albeit short. His hot breath fanned across your lips just before you closed the space between the two of you, feeling his entire body tense when you placed your hands gently against the column of his neck. His lips were chapped; you could feel the broken skin pricking yours slightly. But still, his lips were soft like a pillow, making the kiss a comfortable one. You can still acutely remember the feeling of his sharp nose pressing against your cheek slightly during the kiss, feeling like a cute little boop instead of being uncomfortable. Your cheeks continued to flush a deeper shade of pink each time your mind replayed the same scene over and over again, the temperature in the hallway rising with each second. You mentally reprimanded yourself for being so silly, allowing yourself to feel so flustered over a kiss. It wasn’t like you haven’t done it before – so why was this particular kiss affecting you so much?

Aish stop thinking about it, Rachel Hwang! Get a grip! And stop acting like a lovesick child!

You slapped your cheeks rapidly with both palms, hoping the pain would shock your senses back into normality. (And most importantly, away from any further thoughts on Brian Kang.)

“Ya, what are you doing?”

You weren’t expecting anyone to witness your little episode so when Esther’s voice boomed through the empty hallway, you shot 2 feet into the air, grazing your head painfully against the hard brick wall.

“Ow… Ya! You scared me! What are you doing here?”

“What was that big reaction for… Ya! I could ask you the same question! Where did you disappear to after the match? What are you doing here outside their locker room?”

Esther walked over to stand right before you, folding her arms in front of her chest as she tapped her foot lightly against the ground, tilting her head up to look at you from above with hooded eyes. You glared at her from your spot below, still wincing from the pain as you continued rubbing circles over the sore spot.

“The answers to your questions aren’t important anymore. I’m leaving now, so help me say hi to the boys, and tell them that they did well.”

You turned to walk away from the scene, only to be yanked back to your original spot by Esther.

“Classes for the day have been cancelled in celebration of their victory so you’ve got nowhere else to be now. Besides, you’re right outside their room now, might as well tell them what you want to say in person.”

Reaching behind you, she pushed open the door with one hand as the other shoved you into the room, and you found yourself back at where you started, the only difference this time was Esther by your side, blocking your escape route.

The sight before you were one to behold. The team was lifting Brian's battered and bruised self above their heads, tossing him up and down as he hugged their hard-earned trophy in his hands. He occasionally lifted the trophy up into the air as he let out a triumphant roar in sync with the rest of the team, the handle of it almost grazing the ceiling. You worried that his wounds might suffer more abrasion from the rough manhandling but then realised that he probably trusted his “ride-or-die” team more than anyone else in the world, and you should too. Esther and you contented yourselves by standing at the side-line; it was hard not to beam at the team celebrating in joy despite your worries about Brian’s physical health.

The team only broke apart when Jae finally caught sight of Esther, signalling for the rest of them to put Brian down slowly. Esther immediately ran forward to launch herself into the arms of the tall, lanky male, giving him a small peck on the lips when he leaned his neck down for her to reach. You widen your eyes at the couple in disbelief, marvelling at their fast progress. You’ll have time to question them about their relationship later but right now, you have a more pressing issue to settle, namely – a certain Brian Kang making his way towards you. He’s limping on his good foot to reach you, and you decide to make the distance shorter by walking up towards him instead. Now that both of you are face to face, you got to have a better look at him.

The most jarring thing that stood out on his face was the stitches that formed a neat row of crosses to seal the wound, the edges now crusted with his dried blood. The bruise on his cheek from the punch just now still looked painful, even though the red swelling was slowly toning down to a shade of purple. The same thing was happening to his body, uneven patches of purple forming along his chest and shoulder.

Still, this crazy boy in front of you could find the energy to smile, firing questions and exclamations rapidly at you.

“Oh Rachel! You’re still here! I was wondering where you went just now after you brought me in. How was the match? Did Ayeon and – ”

Before he could get another word in on Ayeon and Jaebum’s reaction to your little kiss just now, you cut him off by wrapping your arms around him lightly, careful to not place your hands on his shoulder, your fingertips just hovering above his skin. You chose to place your head on his left side, not wanting to brush against his sore, right cheek.

“Thank you for taking all the hits for the team and pulling through with the game despite the immense pain you were. Well done Brian Kang, you did really well today.”

Not being able to do anything else, you press your face a little harder against his, hoping he could feel the sincerity behind your words. Brian stood still in your arms for a short while, not daring to believe the words he’s just heard. Did someone really…just…praise him for…playing a game? Over time, as he got better at the game, Brian had gotten used to taking hits for the team; he would rather it be him than them, if that meant that the rest of them would be left alone most of the time to make goals. It had become a silent given at this point of time; no one ever thanked him for taking hits for the team.

But today… someone finally did. Furthermore, it was coming from someone that had come to see him play for the first time. In a short period of time, you were able to see his effort and that itself, touched his heart immensely.

Breaking out into a smile, Brian buried his face further into your hair, finally bringing his hands up to place them on your lower back, locking his fingers together as he tugs you closer to him. Word were lost to him now that he was overwhelmed with emotions, and it took him some time before he could get the simple words out.

“Th- Th- Thank you… Rachel.”

You let out a small laughter at his flustered self, amused at this new sight of the typically composed Brian Kang losing his cool. Pulling away from Brian, you and him share a private moment, exchanging genuine smiles with one another for the very first time as tears glisten slightly in both your eyes. There was no audience watching, no one to put up a show for. Everything about this moment was picture perfect – the only problem?

Both of you had broken the first rule: No displays of affection outside the public eye.

[ruinedthatfriendship]

All Fall Down

A/N: This is the last Dimon fic I ever wrote, according to the save date on the original file. Fittingly, it’s also the last fic I have to post out of my old drafts. 

In which Demi handles the aftermath of That Episode from the UK X Factor, everyone cries, and Simon gets the hugs he deserves.

After a while, lies become truth. If you absorb a lie long enough, live it long enough, put effort into convincing everyone it is real, eventually you convince yourself. Eventually you forget the naked truth, replace all of the raw reality with a shiny film of fantasy, and it becomes real.

It becomes real, but lies are always only ever made out of the thinnest glass. And sometimes all it takes is one shot to bring everything down around you.

For Simon, that one shot was a well-meaning singer from Billingham, the setting was a televised audition, and the broken fantasy suddenly raining down around his ears was comprised of just two little words: I’m fine.

He was the furthest from fine he’d ever been in his life, and his only goal in the world at the moment was keeping himself from falling apart entirely at the judges’ desk. But every word of that damned song was a perfectly aimed knife to the heart, cutting him into ribbons over again.

Because Lauren was gone. And Demi was long gone. And his mum--his mum, the sweetest woman he’d known--was gone.

He’d been numb since he got the news just days ago that she’d passed. He’d gone on to do the show anyways and waved off any concern because he was fine, he didn’t feel anything, and maybe that just made him as much of a heartless bastard as Demi had screamed in their last fight. What kind of man couldn’t mourn his mother?

No, he wasn’t heartless. He had one, and his grief had only been dormant, and this bloody song was a sucker punch.

His mind flitted suddenly to Demi’s old lyrics as he discreetly swiped a finger beneath his eye, almost bursting out into paradoxical laughter. I just ran out of band aids, I don’t even know where to start...you never really can fix a heart.

And she was gone too, making a life for herself without him, happy without him, better than ever. Thriving and singing and sober and, last he’d been able to bring himself to check, very much in love with a man who was not him. I’m jealous of the way you’re happy without me.

And Lauren was so far gone now. She’d left when Eric was barely six months old, with a shrug and a sad little smile and a promise to stay in her son’s life. She really hadn’t, and the whole of raising an entirely unplanned child had fallen to Simon. Who was, perhaps, the most well-meaning and least-prepared combination possible for a father.

And it had been his mother that he’d called when Demi left, tears in her eyes but yelling in anger, slamming the door on her way out. “Mum”,  he’d announced unceremoniously on the phone, swallowing hard and trying for unaffected. He failed miserably. “I’ve cocked everything up.”

And it had been his mother that he’d called when Lauren left him, dryly asking for parenting advice and completely beating around the bush that time until she’d wrestled out of him that he’d failed, again, that he’d chased off a second good-hearted woman and was doomed to a miserable existence of living with himself.

And now she was gone too. His fists were clenched in his lap, he was trying so damn hard to keep it together, and he had some horrible Frankenstein mash-up of the Labyrinth lyrics and Demi’s running around in his brain, threatening to choke him. He was jealous of her death, and that didn’t make any sense; he didn’t want to die, there was Eric to think about after all. He was jealous of her somewhere he couldn’t get to, she was beyond his reach. Forever.

“Take it to a vote,” he murmured to Cheryl, and briefly congratulated himself for keeping a steady voice long enough to confirm the third yes for the young singer.

And then he stood, his body warring from second to second between utter numbness and heart-shattering grief, and made his way off of the set as calmly as he could, the other judges following at a hesitant distance.

He could hear Cheryl, speaking louder than she thought she was. “I don’t know what to do, do I go...should I let him go?”

And again, he wanted to give into bitter laughter. There’s nothing you can do. But Simon knew that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to stuff back inside the hysterical sobs currently stuck in his chest, and he was Simon Cowell and he wasn’t going to cry. Certainly not where anyone could see him.

So he wordlessly waved off his staff and tossed his microphone at one of them, and got onto the back of a golf cart in wretched silence, staring down at his hands in his lap and his wrists, unmarked.

Demi had always had a sixth sense for when he was upset, even if he tried not to tell her. And without fail, she’d take his hands and reflexively trace her Stay Strong script on his wrists, a source of comfort to herself she was passing on to him.

God, he missed her. And it was his own fault she was gone, he had no one to blame but himself for any of it.

***

In the airport in London, beneath the hoodie of an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of dark glasses, just in case, Demi was biting the inside of her lip absently, waiting for her bag on the carousel.

She’d come with just the one, a little overnight bag with next to nothing in it, took a commercial flight and sat in economy, and done it all without thinking. And now here she was, alone, because she’d stupidly decided to ditch her bodyguards and fly out without warning, with no idea what the hell she was doing.

She’d come for Simon, but that was about as far as that plan went. Simon, who had a girlfriend and a son and plenty of work, who wasn’t expecting her. Simon, who she’d screamed at and slammed a door on, and spent the next months of her tour sobbing her eyes out in bathrooms.

What was she even going to say when she saw him? How was she supposed to explain that Marissa had taken one look at her devastated expression when someone accidentally mentioned him, rolled her eyes, pointed at the door, and said exasperatedly, “Oh, just go get him!”

How was she supposed to explain that she’d almost turned around in LAX, but two women were gossiping next to her and that was how she’d heard about his mum and it had only solidified her spontaneous decision?

She knew she wasn’t exactly welcome at the best of times. And better yet, how was she even going to find him? Knocking on the front door wasn’t exactly an option.

Spying her plain black bag, she yanked it off of the belt with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, making a noise of frustration and walking out to the street, waving down a cab awkwardly.

On the scale of every bad decision she’d ever made, this one was pretty close to the top. Demetria, what are you doing?

Without thinking, she gave the driver Simon’s London address, only panicking after he’d turned the second corner. This wasn’t going to work. This was a terrible idea. She was going to kill Marissa. It wasn’t even Marissa’s fault for finally intervening in two years of Quietly Sad Demi. Jesus Christ.

Demi’s stomach was all anxious, terrified butterflies by the time she paid the cab driver and got out onto the curb, letting her bag drop to the ground next to her feet.

It occurred to her then that she had nowhere better to go, and no idea what the code to his gate was anymore, and this was quite possibly the stupidest situation she’d ever gotten herself into.

She dragged her bag the few meters over to lean up against the gate around his property, bracing one foot up behind her and jamming her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She’d chosen this outfit on purpose, to avoid standing out and catching any attention, but Demi was well aware that she probably also looked like a random vagrant lurking outside Simon Cowell’s house.

She contemplated ringing the bell, but odds were against him being home anyway. That, and doing so would actually summon him if he was. For all her ridiculously hasty arrival, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to see him again, and get punched in the chest with all of those emotions all over again.

She wasn’t ready to rip open old wounds, wasn’t ready to play visitor to his happy little family. But she wasn’t strong enough to turn away, couldn’t stop herself. After all this time, she still needed him, and she thought that just maybe, if there was ever a time for him to need her again, this was it.

Demi wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, scrolling through her phone and sending a few panicked texts to Marissa--as of yet, unanswered--when his car pulled up. She looked up, startled, already trying to retreat further into the depths of her hoodie, but Demi squared her jaw instead. It was only Simon. And she was Demi freaking Lovato, and she wasn’t going to be afraid of this.

She pushed herself slowly off of the gate, tucking her phone into the back pocket of her skinny jeans, tilting her head slightly as she tried to peer inside of the car he hadn’t even bothered to park properly. Between the tint of his windows and her sunglasses, she couldn’t really see much, just enough to make out the silhouette of his head, slumped forward on his arms against the steering wheel. Oh, Simon.

Her reaction was just instinctive. Demi didn’t think twice about pushing that hood back and stripping off her sunglasses, shaking her dark hair out and walking toward him.

He opened the door before she got close, wearily unfolding long legs and slamming the door shut for all he was worth, not sparing a glance for the small woman coming up the sidewalk. His white shirt looked wrinkled and his eyes were red, lips pressed together tightly, and Demi’s heart clenched, a lump already forming in her throat.

She opened her mouth to call to him just as he finally glanced her way, and their eyes locked. Simon froze completely, and Demi started running.

He didn’t catch her, didn’t speak, didn’t do anything but stand there while she crashed into his chest and hung on, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing.

“What in the bloody hell,” he finally said hoarsely, and she wondered how much he’d been crying.

She tilted her head up, propping her chin on his chest, and smiled gently. “Hi, Simon.” It may have been a stupid greeting, but there would be time to kick herself later. For now, there was enough on her plate. Simon blinked at her rapidly for a long moment, long enough for Demi to worry if she’d really shocked his poor old man heart too much, and she watched his eyes well up again. “Baby,” she whispered almost involuntarily. It wasn’t pity, it wasn’t reflexive sympathy, it was just love. Love that she’d never stopped feeling, not when it came to him.

And that was enough. Simon lurched forward against her, his arms coming up around her ribs tight enough to ache, and he buried his head in her shoulder with a heartbreaking sound tearing from his throat that she’d never heard before.

Demi just let him hang on for a long moment, breathing evenly against his vice grip, one of her hands running soothingly over his back. “I don’t know how to get inside,” she finally murmured calmly. “Come on, I’ve been out here for like an hour.”

Simon didn’t appear to have heard her. “I’m sorry,” he choked out against her skin, shaking against her.

Demi felt her own eyes stinging, and bit the edge of her tongue stubbornly. Now was not the time to fall apart. “Shh, come on, Si, let’s go inside.”

She took a step backwards, pulling him with her, and carefully pried herself out of his grip, keeping one of his hands in hers to tug him along.

He keyed in something and let her walk up to the house with him in tow, his free hand over his face. He wasn’t sure she was real yet, had no idea what to make of her sudden presence here. And she was simultaneously a relief and making everything worse, and she was only going to break him further when she left, but all he could do was hold onto her, feeling like a lost little boy.

They made it as far as the staircase. Demi wasn’t really sure what had just happened, but she was suddenly sitting down halfway up the stairs with Simon beside her, turning into her body and giving into heart wrenching sobs once more.

Demi’s lip quivered, and she hugged him tighter. “Baby,” she whispered thickly. One of her hands found his, and she rubbed her thumb across the inside of his wrist absently, her other arm hugging him tightly against her. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

For some reason, that little gesture only broke him further. He was mumbling something into the grey material on her shoulder, words that broke her heart when she finally understood them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Simon, shh,”

“It’s not okay,” he returned heavily, and Demi winced. She’d assumed that his apology was unconnected to losing his mom--what could he have to apologize for there? But it was still a thoughtless reply, given the circumstances.

“No, not really,” she whispered, rubbing soothing patterns across his back. “It’s not okay, and it sucks, but you’re going to get through it. I promise.”

Simon just sniffed, hugging her tighter. “She’s gone, Demi.”

Demi’s voice broke too as she replied, squeezing his hand as a comfort to both of them. “I know, Si, I know. I’m so sorry. And I wish I could have met her, but I know how wonderful she was. And she loved you so much.”

His mum’s love wasn’t really something he tended to question, but in a moment of weakness, he still found himself returning softly, “How would you know?”

Demi sniffed, and let out a little laugh, shaking her shoulder enough to dislodge him and force him to meet her brown eyes. “Because I love you. And if she could see half of what I see, she’d love you just as much. And she was your mum,” she emphasized the British variant with a smile, “which means she definitely knew you way better than I do.”

“Demi…” Simon mumbled, the only thing he knew how to say anymore. Just her name, just her touch, just her.

She seemed to realize the implications of what she’d said, and drew back a little. “Is...is Lauren home, Simon?”

Simon’s face clouded, and he glanced away from her. “No,” he said simply. “She’s not.”

Demi swallowed, biting her lip hesitantly. There was more to that story, she could tell, but now wasn’t the time. “These stairs are not comfortable, Simon,” she said instead, trying for a little of her teasing brattiness.

It worked, and she saw the darkness recede from his eyes somewhat. He stood slowly, holding both hands out to her, and pulled her to her feet, leading her the rest of the way upstairs.

He went to his bedroom, Demi following on his heels, and ended up standing in the middle of the room, looking lost.

Demi sighed, and perched on the edge of his bed. “Do you want to take a shower?” she finally suggested, when he didn’t seem to gain any more direction.

His eyes flicked to hers. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right here,” Demi nodded firmly, gesturing to the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Simon seemed to doubt that very much, but the slump in his shoulders and curl of his spine spoke of defeated acceptance, like he knew she’d leave and had given up on doing anything about it.

“I’ll be right here,” Demi whispered again, and waited for the door to the ensuite to close completely behind him before she launched herself at one of his pillows and screamed briefly into the white fluff.

There was so much pain contained in that man, more than she could attribute to just his mom, and she wasn’t even sure that she wasn’t making it worse. Demi would have given just about anything to strip it away from him, bring back the Simon she remembered from so long ago, laughing behind his hand at some contestant on the stage, holding her hand beneath the table.

She just had to have faith that they could get there again. Together. And it started here, with her promise to stay, which she had no intention at all of going back on.

Demi pulled her hoodie off over her head, leaving her in just a dark green tank top, and let herself lie back on the bed she’d stayed in once before, smiling in spite of herself at the familiar, quintessentially Simon scent surrounding her.

She’d just taken a nearly twelve hour flight, crossed multiple time zones and then emotionally exhausted herself with Simon. Demi didn’t think twice about slipping between his sheets and hugging the pillow, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar smell of cologne and mints and cigarettes and the shampoo he always used, thinking that maybe, in spite of everything, she was almost coming home.

And that was how Simon found her nearly an hour later, when he finally dragged himself out of the bathroom, fully expecting to be greeted by an empty house. She had to be too good to be true, didn’t she?

Instead, his brat was curled up asleep, holding onto his pillow and looking surprisingly peaceful, all things considered. Relief flooded him, and he bit the end of his tongue as he moved to his closet, refusing to cry again. Now that he’d opened the dam of emotions, stopping it was harder than he’d thought.

But a sleeping Demi wasn’t a reason for tears. It was a reason to just climb in with her.

She woke to Simon slipping his arm around her waist from behind, a soft smile spreading over her lips as she turned over her shoulder to see him. “Hi,” she murmured, still sleepy.

“Hey, brat,” his voice was still a wreck from crying, but steady, the familiar nickname making her relax. If he could joke, they’d be okay.

Simon pressed a soft kiss to the bare skin of her shoulder, tucking her body against his. “Thank you,”

Demi just shrugged, smiling up into his face. “Where else would I be?”

His eyes clouded slightly, and he looked away from her gaze. “I am sorry, Demi. For everything.”

“I don’t really care about that anymore,” Demi said softly, biting her lip. And maybe she was supposed to, and of course they’d have things to figure out, but if his mom’s death had taught her anything, it was that she didn’t want to waste any time being angry about the past.

Still, as much as she wanted to just melt into his arms and fall all the way back into him, in every sense of the word, there was something she needed to know. “Simon,” she sighed, wondering if the answer was going to damn them completely. “I need to know, babe. Where’s Lauren?”

He exhaled, his breath tickling the hair at the base of her neck. It took him a while to reply, and when he finally did, it was simple. “She’s gone, Dem. She left...I haven’t seen her in a year. Eric’s with a sitter while I’m at work.”

Her immediate relief that she wasn’t in their bed right now was tempered by a rush of fury, that Lauren could leave, that she could abandon her son and walk away from the best man she was ever going to find.

“I’m sorry,” Demi said finally, slowly, lacing her fingers with his over her ribs. “For her, really… She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Simon just held her tighter and pressed his lips to hers, moving on top of her with a familiar weight as she deepened the kiss. And Demi knew without a doubt that whatever else happened, in that moment, she’d made it home.

[hippychick006]

1.01 - Pilot Recap/Review

Original Air Date: 13 September 2005

Episode 1 of a 327 Episode Watch

Lawrence, Kansas, 22 years ago…

…Nope, more like 37 now… sobs

Love this episode, so many iconic brother moments and the start of the epic love story of Sam and Dean (creators words, not mine).  Where do we even start?

Intro is a little difficult to watch now, with so much changed with Mary from this original episode over the years –with her a) being a hunter, b) making the deal and c) the family not actually being as happy as they are portrayed in this episode which kind of screws up John’s story for me, but this is my only negative, and it certainly wasn’t an issue at the time the pilot aired.  

Weechesters!  First words from Dean to Sam: “Night, Sam” and if these are the last words (and both are alive), I will be a very happy bunny!

John (handing baby Sam to Dean): Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!

Wee!Dean telling Wee!Sam it will be okay.

I love how John picks them both up as he runs.  Also love that shot of John and his two boys on the hood of the Impala at the end of the intro.

Now, Stanford University...

Nope, almost 15 years ago – add a few decades for each brother for their hell experiences

Our first glimpse of Baby!Sam as he peeks around the door, reluctant to go out for Halloween: “Do I have to… you know how I feel about Halloween?” Boops nose, he’s so gosh darned cute! Ignores the later canon that he doesn’t like Halloween because he puked in front of a girl (or similar story as I can’t remember it fully).  Also forever bitter we don’t get the deleted scene where it’s suggested that Sam dress up in something slutty. “Slutty Dorothy, Slutty Alice…” 

Jess is rightfully proud of her boyfriend for scoring a 174 on the LSAT which is “scary good.”  I’ll take her word for it as I have absolutely no idea what an LSAT is.

I love how Sam is instantly alert at the noise in the apartment. Hunter instincts.

Urgh, the first ever broment. I mean they’re fighting, but it’s still a broment!  I love the whole fight scene and how it was shot.  Instant chemistry.  Excuse me while I watch it several times.  Will never be tired of the “Woah, Easy Tiger!” from Dean.  Question though, why was Dean fighting Sam?  He broke into his brother’s apartment and he didn’t think to go “Wait, Sammy, it’s me, stop trying to punch me!”  Also, Jensen is gorgeous, these are my favourite Dean years.

Dean, stop hitting on Sam’s girlfriend!

Call to action that starts the whole thing: Dad’s on a Hunting Trip.  And he hasn’t been home in a few days.

Exposition Kripke!!  Though we do find out a lot, Sam was chucked out, wouldn’t pick up the phone if Dean had called, and they were “raised like warriors”. Dysfunctional family?  Hello, yes, I’d like to watch 327 episodes of this show, please!

Brother feels!

Dean: I can’t do this alone

Sam: Yes, you can

Dean: Yeah, Well, I don’t want to

What the hell is a gold wave?  Was that made up?  That sounds made up.  Me as a writer.

Dean: “You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.”  This is so sad their relationship got to this point and they hadn’t seen each other or spoken. 

Dean telling his brother to skip the job interview.  He really wants his Sammy back.

Before the end of the show, I want to see Sam using that lethal looking knife he packs in his duffel in this episode. Just once.

I like the MOTW in this one, Lady in White was a good starting point for the show.  Troy is the first victim we see with her and since he’s a cheating scumbag, I don’t feel sorry that his guts are now splattered all over his car.

Dean asking Sam if he wants breakfast.   Lawyer boy is concerned about how Dean paid for it – “You and dad still running credit card scams?” Sam is also concerned about Dean’s music collection

Sam: I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection.

Dean: Why?

Sam: Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two… Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?... It's the greatest hits of mullet rock. (*cough* Vince Vincente Sammy *cough*).

DEAN: Well, house rules, Sammy, Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

Sam protests Dean’s use of Sammy, but as we know, Dean’s the only one who gets to call him that (except later seasons where everyone seems to call him that).

I love Sam’s face when Dean is searching through the box of fake ID’s.  He’s horrified.  He can’t believe Dean is going to use a fake badge.  Oh Sam.

So much brotherly bickering in this episode:

Sam stomping on Dean’s foot and Dean whacking Sam on the head.

Dean smacking Sam’s hand and Sam wheeling Dean’s chair out of the way so he can take over control of the computer in the library when they look up the case.  Dean smacks Sam on the shoulder in return. (first ever scene they filmed according to Jared).

Also First Ever Winsync!  When they interview Troy’s girlfriend and say at exactly the same time: “What do they talk about?”  

Also, in this same scene, someone needs to remind Jensen he’s playing Sam’s brother, not his boyfriend.

Love the whole scene on the bridge at night, Dean slamming Sam up against the side just because he talked about their mom.  You. Are. Brothers!  

Sam may not be happy about using fake credit cards, but he’s more than at home with a lock picking kit.  I like how Sam yanks Dean inside the room.

Sam tries to apologise for talking about their mom.  

Dean: No chick-flick moments

Sam: Jerk…

Dean: …Bitch

Dean leaving the motel, spotting the police then calling his brother to warn he’s been made and telling him to take off.  

Sam placing a false 911 call to allow Dean to escape and Dean being resourceful in getting out of the cuffs.

Sam demonstrating exactly why you shouldn’t talk and drive.  Luckily he runs over a ghost and not a real person.  

Uh, That Constance bitch is in the car with Sam demanding to be taken home. Sam refuses and she takes over controls, locking the car and mentally driving it home.  Constance: “I can never go home.”

Sam: You’re scared to go home.

Constance, you get your hands off Sammy. Sam: You can’t kill me.  I’m not unfaithful.  I’ve never been!  Constance: You will be.  Uh no, he said he wouldn’t, stop cheating Constance and go after the real douchbags!

Hurt!Sam – Constance is digging into his chest, going for his heart.

Big Brother Dean to the rescue – he shoots her in the face, but she keeps reappearing.

Sam’s had enough, “I’m taking you home.” To Dean’s shock, Sam drives his baby straight into her house.  

Dean helps Sam out of the car, while Constance looks at a photo of her and her children.  She’s not happy with Sam and Dean, tking the sideboard to slam right into them and pin them against the car.  Luckily, before she can do any more damage, her ghost kids turn up and they all melt into the floor.

Sam gets the kill count on this one. Sam: 1, Dean: 0.  Dean’s proud as he slaps Sam on the chest right where Sam had been injured. Dean: You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.

Sam: Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?

Dean: Hey. Saved your ass…. I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?... I’ll kill you

Oops, the car is damaged, one of the headlights is out.  Sam seems okay though, he checks co-ordinates their dad left earlier while Dean drives.

Dean just wants to hunt with his brother and Sam just wants to be safe, but at least Sam wants a relationship with Dean: “And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

Dean: You know, we made a hell of a team back there.

Sam: Yeah.

Jess made Sam cookies ☹

Sam’s tired and flops down on the bed, it’s such a peaceful moment and he’s happy and then blood drips on his forehead and it’s just…

Big brother Dean to the rescue again (though I don’t think they should have cut what brought Dean back). Dean literally has to drag Sam out of the room and I’m always here for Dean manhandling Sam.

The scene at the end, Dean looking at Sam, worried about his brother, Sam looking at him, sighs and nods, tossing the shotgun he’s been checking into the trunk.

Sam: We got work to do

Yes Sam, 326 more episodes of work to do!  I really miss these early boys so much, they’re both so dragged down with constant crap over the last few years to the point of being almost unrecognisable.  

[sincerely-us-imagines]

it’s all about the money, honey (Connor Murphy x Reader)

connor paying you to be his fake girlfriend! based on the anon i got last night!

I didn’t really proof this so let me know if i’ve made any mistakes!

warnings: swearing and a little angst. i think that’s it?

The final bell rang and you breathed a sigh of relief as you stuffed your books into your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. It was finally Friday, and you had nothing to do over the weekend. You were completely free. Walking out of the classroom, you made a list of all the Netflix shows you needed to get caught up on. You still hadn’t finished Madmen, but the new season of Riverdale just came out and, even though it was kinda trashy and way over dramatic, you still enjoyed sitting down and binge watching it with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. But there was also that movie you heard someone else talk about in class, Alex Strangelove. It sounded like something you might like. But The Toys That Made Us also just released new episodes, and that’s a pretty neat show. And funny, too, for it to be a documentary series. Ooh, you had something new on your list too, though--

“Y/n!” you were pulled out of your thoughts by someone’s hand on your shoulder, yanking you off to the side, out of the sea of students all heading towards the exits. You looked up to see a panting and disgruntled Connor Murphy.

“What the hell, I’ve been calling your name.”

“Didn’t hear you.” you shrugged his hand off. You’d tolerate him touching you around his family, sure, but you didn’t want it happening when it wasn’t necessary.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

“No.” you said simply.

“What?”

“I said no. I’m busy.”

“Busy with what? Holing up in your room and watching TV by yourself?”

“None of your business.” you hoped he couldn’t tell he hit the nail right on the head.

“Just, please, Y/n.”

“Why? What’s so important that you need me over there so bad?”

“My grandmother’s coming into town tonight. Larry told her I had a girlfriend and now she wants to meet you.”

You barked out a laugh.

“It’s one thing for me to lie to your parents and Zoe, but your grandmother? That’s not happening.” You turned to walk away when he something that caught your ear.

“I’ll pay you double.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him. He looked desperate.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You could really use the money...

“Fine.” He visibly relaxed at your words.

“Thank you. Now can we go? I’d rather just get this over with.”

You followed Connor out to the senior parking lot and climbed into his car, tossing your bag into the backseat and sighing heavily as you buckled up. He ignored you, of course.

As Connor pulled out onto the road you let your head fall against the window and thought about how you even got into this position in the first place.

You and Connor were never really friends. You’d known him since middle school, but never really talked to him. He was always a little cold towards you. Maybe it was because you were friends with Jared, who was, admittedly, an asshole to Connor. Or maybe that was just Connor’s attitude towards everyone.

The two of you sat beside each other in science, and would occasionally have to work on assignments together. Usually he would do his half quietly, and you would do yours, and when your were both done you’d copy the answers from each other. An easy system. One day, a few months ago, you were filling out a worksheet while Connor sat back, arms crossed, doing absolutely nothing.

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?” you’d asked him eventually, putting your pencil down.

“Why do you care?” he snapped.

“Because you’re my lab partner and you’re not doing jack shit. This is due at the end of class and I can’t afford to fail this assignment.”

“Of course.” he’d scoffed, “You’re only worried about yourself.”

You’d clenched your jaw in frustration. Whatever he was going through really wasn’t your problem, and you didn’t really give a shit. But if you could help him with whatever it was, maybe he’d get off his ass and do his part of the assignment.

“Just…” you took a deep breath, composing yourself. “Maybe I can help.”

He laughed humorlessly at that.

“You can’t. Unless you can get my parents off my ass about not being a “normal kid”. They’re constantly nagging me, asking why I’m not hanging out with friends, why I don’t join a club or try sports, why I don’t have a girlfriend. Fuck, at this point I’d pay someone just to pretend.”

“How much?” you joked.

“Sixty bucks per date.” he deadpanned.

“Are you kidding or…?”

He shrugged, picking at his nail polish. His face was tinted pink. Holy shit, he was being serious.

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” he asked, looking over at you incredulously.

“I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake girlfriend or whatever.”

“Oh.” he cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks?”

“Don’t thank me. You’re paying me for it; it’s not like I’m doing you a favor or something.”

“Right, yeah, uh…” he ran a hand anxiously through his hair.

“Just, uh, gimme your phone real quick.”

He obliged and you added your number to his (depressingly short) contact list.

“Text me or something and we can work out the details, yeah?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, not looking at you.

He started on his half of the assignment. You worked in mutual, awkward silence.

The page was finished in time and once the bell rang he left the room without a word.

Later that night you got a text, briefing you with a made up backstory and a time and date to have dinner with his family. And thus began your “relationship”.

Connor pulled up to the Murphy household to find his usual parking spot occupied by a gold Lincoln Town Car. He sighed and opted to park in the street.

“She’s already here.”

You could practically smell the anxiety on him and, honestly, you felt a little bad for him.

You got out of the car and followed the stone walkway up to the front porch.

Connor grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through his right before opening the front door.

The sound of chatter died down a bit as you walked in. Connor took a deep breath before leading you into the dining room. Larry and Cynthia sat at the table, along with Connor’s grandmother, an older woman with round cheeks and big curly hair.

“Hi Nana.” Connor raises his hand to her and she scoffs, standing up and holding her arms out in front of her.

“Connor Lawrence Murphy, get over here and give your Nana a hug!”

You snort at the mention of his middle name and he shoots you a glare before releasing your hand and walking over to his grandmother.

She squeezed him tight, her head only reaching his chest while the top of her hair brushed under his chin.

“You’ve gotten so tall, motek! And your hair hair is so long!”

Connor flushed pink as his grandmother reached up to stroke his hair.

“Going to have to take him for a cut soon.” Larry commented, and you could tell Connor was biting his tongue.

“I think it’s very handsome, Larry. He looks so much like your father now.” She cupped Connor’s cheek and smiled sadly. It sent a pang through your chest to see the way he looked away, the sadness that flickered in his eyes at the mention of his grandfather. He’d never talked about him to you before.

But then again, why would he? You weren’t really his girlfriend. Hell, you weren’t even his friend. You were just someone he paid to keep his parents off his back. If it weren’t for your little deal he’d want nothing to do with you.

For the first time since you started this whole thing, you felt a little bad.

“You must be Y/n!” his grandmother said suddenly, pulling away and hurrying around the table. She pressed a big kiss against your cheek and you were a bit taken aback.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” she mused, pushing your hair away from your face and smiling at you. Your cheeks burned at the attention.

“You’ve done so well, Connor! She’s beautiful!”

“Yeah, uh, she is.” he mumbled, taking a seat at the table and looking anywhere that wasn’t at you.

The front door opened again as Zoe came inside, guitar in tow. Connor’s grandmother, much to your relief, released you in favor of showering Zoe in kisses and compliments.

You took your usual seat beside Connor and sat quietly, listening to Connor’s family get caught up. Connor, you noticed, stayed silent as well, looking incredibly uncomfortable. You reached over and grabbed his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Only because you were acting, though. Just in case Larry or Connor’s grandmother looked over, or if Cynthia came out of the kitchen where she was cooking something that, surprisingly, smelled like real food. It was all just for show, really, it was.

“So Connor,” his grandmother said, swallowing her mouthful of pasta, “how long have you been dating Y/n?” she gestured towards you with her fork.

“About three months.” he told her. He’d decided your “anniversary” should be three weeks before the night you first met the Murphy’s. Long enough that it would make sense for you to meet them, but not too long that it would be weird that he’d never talked about you to them.

“And how did you two meet?”

“Well, we’ve gone to school together since 6th grade, but we really started talking when we got paired together on a project several months ago. It all kind of took off from there.” he told her the well rehearsed story. He was lying through his teeth to his grandmother quite convincingly. It made you wonder what else he was keeping from his family.

Not that it was any of your business.

“Does he treat you well, chamudi?” she asked you. You made a mental note to google what that meant when you got home.

“Oh yes, of course he does! He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, really.” You leaned your head lovingly against his shoulder, trying to really sell the routine.

“You know, Connor,” she told him, taking a sip of water. “Your grandfather and I were married at eighteen, right after high school.” she raised her eyebrows at him.

Zoe snorted at the comment. Connor looked down at his plate.

“That’s because he was joining the military, Mom.” Larry told her, “And I don’t think they’re that serious right now.” for once you were thankful that Larry opened his mouth.

She only hummed at him and took another sip of water. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air a solid ten seconds before Cynthia cut in.

“Well, speaking of marriage, Are you coming back in town for the wedding next month?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss my granddaughter’s wedding for the world. It might be the only chance I get to see one of my grandchildren marry before I die.” Connor and Zoe both rolled their eyes.

“Will you be coming, dear?” His grandmother asked. All eyes were on you. You swallowed hard.

“Well, I- uh, I actually hadn’t heard anything about this. I guess Connor just forgot to tell me.” you offered a forced smile.

“I guess I did.” You could see Connor’s jaw muscles were tensed.

“Well, this is your invitation now.” His grandmother smiled.

Connor was staring at you, willing you with his eyes to decline.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on family matters--”

“Nonsense!” Cynthia said, reaching across the table and laying her hand over yours, smiling sweetly. “You are family, sweetie. And I’m sure all the cousins would love to meet you.”

You looked between Cynthia and Connor, and then Connor and his grandmother. Seeing no other option you smiled and nodded your head.

“That, um- That sounds wonderful. I’d love to go.”

Everyone smiled at you- everyone except Connor- and dinner continued from there without a hitch.

Connor was silent as he drove you home.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” you told him. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel but said nothing. “I didn’t know what else to say. Everyone was looking at me and I just…”

You sighed, feeling kind of guilty.

“You don’t have to pay me for it.” still nothing.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this, Connor. The whole thing was your idea in the first place.”

“I didn’t have any other option.” he snapped. “It was either pay you to be my fake girlfriend or get shit from my parents forever. If I had any choice I wouldn’t be spending my time with you.”

You knew that was true when you agreed to this. That didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Connor pulled up to your house, hitting the breaks a little too hard. You grabbed your bag and he thrust a wad of bills into your hand wordlessly. Your eyes stung as you slammed the car door as hard as you could behind you, causing a dog somewhere in your neighborhood to start barking his head off. Connor sped off before you were even off the sidewalk.

[accioharry]

part 6 is LONG and i have never written anything this angsty but i saw spiderman again today and that scene™ made me so emotional that this was the result! i hope you enjoy xx

if you’ve never read this series, you can find part 1 here, and if you missed part 5, you can find it here!

now that peter and michelle are dating, ned isn’t the only chair guy around

michelle has taken to helping both ned and peter with spidey duties

she even convinced may to let them use the linen closet in the living room as a “headquarters” for them, as long as they close the door when guests are around and go along with the idea that “peter accidentally sealed it shut as a kid” 

peter doesn’t know how she did it, she and ned found old computer pieces lying around in dumpsters and somehow made in that linen closet, 3 computer monitors, 2 keyboards, 2 headsets, and more. 

it even impressed tony stark when he came to check in on peter and may

and oh boy did may yell at him

but then tony mentioned his connections with MIT and well, peter brings brownies to tony and pepper quite often now

one day while May is at work, Peter and MJ are watching a history documentary. 

MJ is lying across Peter’s lap and is so focused on the untold stories of ancient civilization when the linen closet beeps

and suddenly Peter’s burrito is flying and MJ jumps over the couch and opens the closet and starts typing away

“w-what? the burrito!” peter starts to protest but MJ waves him off. 

“we got a hostage situation near the high school,” she pulls a chair up. she managed to hack into police coms a few weeks ago, and even Ned was impressed on that one.

“how many?” peter now hops over the couch and leans over behind her, resting his chin on her head.

“not a lot...about eight according to the police coms. i can’t tell what building it is, the map isn’t clear-” she opens her palm and peter knows to drop his phone in her hand, and suddenly ned is on the line

“MJ...why don’t you just call me from your phone? you have my number?-”

“shut it loser. we got a hostage situation near school and i need my chair partner.” 

“be there in 10″ and ned hangs up and MJ tosses the phone up to Peter, who catches it no problem

“karen, run facial recognition,” peter says, and MJ looks confused. 

“who the hell is-” she starts but is cut off when the third screen lights up with a criminal database.

“i hacked karen into the system when you went to get the burritos,” he mumbles into her hair. “she’s an AI tony had made.” 

michelle nods and then peter is laughing into her hair. “what parker?” she goes to shrug him off, but peter spins her chair around to face him

“you were jealous,” he’s smug.

“was not-” she goes to turn around but peter raises his eyebrows. “i don’t get jealous.”

“mhmm,” peter says before kissing her quickly and MJ rolls her eyes. again, a term of endearment. 

“suit up spidey boy,” she turns back to the screens, and ignores peter’s, “but i’m spiderman!” in the background 

it takes ned less than 10 minutes to burst through the door with his backpack 

“a hostage situation! we haven’t had that in a while!” 

“wow ned, so respectful of the situation,” she says as ned pulls up a chair next to him. 

“peter already out?” he asks, and she nods. 

though she’ll never admit it to them, the real reason she forced ned and peter to let her help was because after the building incident, she couldn’t stand the thought of peter being out there alone. and even if he’d never let her out there with him physically, at least she was doing what she could

ned pulls up a map with peter’s suit tracker and puts on a headset. “obi to anakin, you copy?”

“why am i anakin? i’m not going down a dark path-” peter’s voice comes through the headset, and michelle breathes out a sigh of relief. 

ned ignores him. “you’re getting close. police have the area surrounded, but i can’t get access to a camera inside the building.” 

“it looks like a general retail store,” mj says from her headset. ned is giving more details to peter when mj yells, “i got a camera! sending it over now,” and just like that peter is able to see what ned and michelle are seeing

“oh shit,” ned mutters. 

there’s at least ten masked men and just as mj predicted, eight hostages. the men look heavily armed, and definitely are not amateurs. 

“don’t go in peter,” mj warns. “sit this one out.”

“are you kidding me? if i don’t do something, those guys will kill everyone!” peter yells back, and according to the tracker, he’s on the roof of the building now. 

“you can’t take on ten guys at once by yourself!” mj raises her voice too, and ned slowly backs his chair away. if peter and mj are gonna fight over this, he should probably stay out of it 

“whatever. ned, give me a way in.” peter snaps, but mj shoots her hand to ned’s chair before he can scoot back in.

“no way,” mj narrows her eyes at the screen. “ned, don’t,”

“i’m doing this with or without your help, MJ.” peter’s tracker moves down the side of one of the buildings. 

“it’s too dangerous!” 

“get me a way in, or the stay the hell out of it!” peter says, and mj yanks her headset off and walks into the bathroom.

it’s silent for a moment, before ned thinks it’s safe enough to speak. 

“you can get in through the side door,” he says, and peter does. 

the fight is going well so far. peter has 3 of the men webbed up and 2 of them ran away in fear. ned is keeping him updated on the other 5 as police rush out the hostages

“on your left!” ned shouts, and peter nearly gets shot as he shoots out a web grenade.

“taser web!” he yells at two guys coming from the back, and ned hollers. 

“in the corner!” and peter webs him up. 

suddenly one of the guys comes out from behind the aisle and ned yells to peter, but the guy is faster. 

and peter is shot in the chest

“pull up his vitals!” mj screams, suddenly back in the chair. her eyes are bloodshot and she’s obviously been crying, but ned doesn’t have time to ask. 

“peter?” he calls into the headset. no response. “peter!”

“ned, where are his vitals?” mj is scrambling to find the location of the nearest hospital. 

“they aren’t good,” ned mutters. 

“keep him talking,” mj starts typing in coordinates into the computer. there’s a protocol set up, the “lost baby” protocol (tony’s name, not theirs)

basically, if peter gets in a situation, mj can trigger an alert to the avengers facility upstate by typing in coordinates. 

“he’s not responding!” ned yells. 

“okay,” she takes a deep breath. “okay it’s going to be fine. tony is on his way, it’s fine-”

and then the alarm goes off, signaling peter’s heart has stopped. 

happy arrives at the apartment twenty minutes later to drive the two of them to the hospital, and they pick may up from work on the way

luckily, he was in the area at the time

ned has his laptop, replaying the footage of the fight over and over again, doing his best to use karen’s facial recognition to identify these guys

and may is on the phone with pepper in the passenger seat, crying because thank god he’s alive but also scared because the bullet made his suit malfunction, which is why the alarm said his heart stopped

luckily, it never did

mj is leaning her head on the window, her headphones in, and all she can think about was how none of this would’ve happened if two people were watching the camera

tony and sam got to peter in less than 2 minutes and flew peter to a quinjet a few miles from the city where bruce was waiting with a stretcher, an iv, and everything needed to keep peter stable

by the time may, mj, and ned had reached the avengers facility, peter was already in surgery

“holy...” ned mutters, taking in the surroundings of the facility but may is walking quickly to pepper and maria hill who take the 3 of them down a long hallway. 

the wait feels like months. may has disappeared to talk with tony and ned is off giving the footage of the fight to maria and natasha, and mj is by herself in the hallway

she texted her parents to say she was sleeping over at betty’s, but that’s it. 

“michelle?” she looks up to see steve rogers standing over her. 

“uh...yeah?” she scoots over on the bench, and steve sits. 

“i’m Steve, peter has told us a lot about you.”

“oh god,” she shakes her head, laughing slightly. Her face turns serious, “how is he?”

steve pauses, “from what Bruce said, he’s going to be fine. the bullet didn’t hit anything major, but it was tricky to get it out. he’s sleeping right now, may and ned were heading to sit with him.”

mj nods, fiddling with her sweater. she’s not one to cry in public, and she’s not one to express her emotions either. even with peter, she still teases him and calls him a loser and rolls her eyes at him, but he knows she means well. 

“he really cares about you,” steve says softly. 

“we...we got in a fight,” she lowers her head. right before he went in the store, and I left the computers because I couldn’t take it. he was on my last nerves and I left and then he got shot because I wasn’t watching the screens and-” 

“it’s not your fault,” steve says reassuringly. “tony showed us the footage, there was no way you or ned or peter could’ve seen that guy coming.” 

michelle just shrugs, and steve sits with her until may comes out. 

“he wants to see you,” she smiles, holding out her hand. 

she looks over at steve, who gestures as if to say ‘go on’, and she reaches up and takes may’s hand. 

peter’s room is small with bare white walls and a tv in the corner playing an episode of the clone wars. mj walks in and may tells ned to come with her to get food, and that’s when she finally lets herself look at peter.

the dork is smiling. actually smiling after all of this and mj wants to yell at him, but instead she settles for going on the side where peter isn’t hurt and sits on his bed and puts her head on his chest

“hey darling,” peter says and michelle looks up at him. “thought i’d try a nickname out, thoughts?” he smiles, and mj puts her head back on his chest

“i’ll take the lack of response as a yes.”

“this is my fault.” 

“what?” peter says and she stands up, wiping the tears from her eyes and she starts pacing frantically. “what are you talking about?”

“this,” she gestures to the heart monitor. “is because of me. because i bailed because i got mad at you and i wasn’t watching the screen-”

“babe,” peter cuts her off. “this is because i didn’t listen to you. tony told me how fast you got those coordinates out to him, you did it in under 10 seconds.” 

“i was stressed,” she narrows her eyes. 

“you saved me.”

“it said your heart stopped.”

“but it didn’t”

“but it said-”

“it didn’t.”

 “but-”

“please don’t blame yourself. i know you’re doing it because you’re scared, but i promise you i’m okay. i made you that promise didn’t i?”

“that stupid promise,” she mutters, taking peter’s hand and letting him pull her back to lay on his chest, away from the bullet of course

“i was so...scared,” she whispers. 

“me too,” he whispers back.

and that’s how ned and may find them, michelle asleep on his chest, and peter’s good arm wrapped around her, his face nuzzled in her hair. 

update: part 7 is here!

[livingvicariouslythroughphan]

Under Your Spell

  Prompt: Can you write something where Phil is overstimulating Dan, and Dan keeps letting out little whimpers, and at one point he tries to close his legs, but Phil pulls them back open, and fUCK I can't get this out of my head. 

Authors Note: So like, I am aware i havent posted in forever so I hope you guys still read this and like it :) I plan to post at least once a month or so, maybe more, so send in prompts and ideas you wanna read! <33 (2k words) 

Phil blinked open his eyes, cringing as the early morning sunlight crept over the hard wood floor. There was a moment of confusion at the brightness of his surroundings and the cramped position of his legs before he realized he was on the couch and Dan’s warm body was tucked half on his chest and half between the back of the couch. They had fallen asleep there the night before after a couple episodes of their latest obsession. It had been accidental of course, but the weight of Dan on his chest, and the hand brushing through his messy curls had put them both asleep before they knew what was happening.

 Though he was sure that he’d been comfortable at some point, the time had passed for Phil, and he was beyond ready to get up. The only problem really was how much he hated to wake his sleeping boyfriend, he knew that it was still quite early and waking him now was like asking for a day with a very grumpy Dan. Nevertheless he began to shift out from under the boy, gently holding him up and shuffling over before easing him back to the couch, sighing in relief when Dan’s furrowed brow relaxed and he settled back into the cushions.

 He walked sleepily to the kitchen and flipped on the light before setting to the task of making tea, absentmindedly fumbling with the kettle as he mentally planned out his day. Before he could even set the kettle down to heat though, Dan was yelling, “Phil?”

  Rolling his eyes a little, the man abandoned his tea and walked back into the lounge, where Dan was now sat cross legged on the sofa, a pout on his face. “Why’d you leave me here?”, he asked, rubbing his eyes. Phil smiled. “I didn’t really leave you, I was there all night, I just got up to make some tea.” Dan nodded and patted the cushion next to him, “Well come back,” he demanded. “You know, you’re just a little needy,” Phil teased, flopping down next to the boy.

 Dan nodded again. “Yeah, but you knew what you were getting when you started dating me,” he said, shifting positions until he was laying with his head in Phil’s lap, before turning and nosing up his shirt, placing little kisses on the skin of Phil’s stomach, “and besides, don’t you kinda like it?”

 Running his hands gently through Dan’s curls, Phil smiled down at him. “I love it.” Dan flushed at the praise and blinked up at him, “Can I suck you, Daddy?” Phil laughed softly, asking, “Right now?” The boy blushed, nodded quickly and added, “Please?”

  “How could I say no to that?”, Phil asked, watching as Dan turned on to his stomach and began nuzzling his dick through his pajama bottoms. “Fuck…”, he breathed, running his thumb over the swell of Dan’s cheek as he bit gently at his thigh, and mouthed at the outline of his cock through the fabric. After a few minutes of this teasing, Phil guided Dan’s head away from his cock and lifted up his hips, tugging his bottoms down to give the boy full access.

 “Be a good boy and take my cock,” he urged, swearing as Dan suddenly leaned forward and took the head of his dick into his mouth, licking over it and sucking at the skin just below. Dan leaned up on one elbow to give himself a better angle and slowly lowered his head, taking Phil’s cock into his throat and looking up at him, moaning desperately and laving his tongue over the base.

 Dan stayed down as long as he could and then came back up, pulling off and taking a breath before bringing his hand to stroke Phil’s cock, and leaning down to suck one of Phil’s balls in to his mouth. “Good job, baby,” Phil groaned. The way Dan was curled up on the sofa gave Phil access to his ass, and he leaned over slightly, yanking Dan’s pants halfway down and smacking him lightly before running his fingers over the boy's hole, lightly at first and then more firmly, almost going in with every pass.

 “Ahh! Daddy!”, Dan whined, leaning his head against Phil’s thigh and slowing the hand on his dick. Phil smirked, stopping his actions and asking, “Did I tell you to stop?” Dan blushed and moved to take Phil’s cock back into his mouth, apologizing, “Sorry, Daddy.” “It’s ok, baby. If you make Daddy cum hard, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Phil soothed. Dan moaned around his dick and looked into Phil’s eyes with desperation, doubling up his efforts.

 The hand on Dan’s ass resumed it’s movements and he arched up into it, grinding back and creating a rhythm for himself on Phil’s cock. “That’s it, good boy,” Phil praised, pressing a finger gently into his hole, smiling at the muffled whimper the action drew from Dan’s mouth. With his remaining fingers, Phil rubbed over the space between his dick and his hole for a few seconds before pulling his hand away. “That’s it for you now. Make Daddy cum, ok, baby?”

 Dan nodded frantically and moved to shift down into a kneeling position on the floor in front of Phil, “Ok, Daddy.” He got his hand around the base of Phil’s cock and leaned forward, taking it into his mouth and staying down until spit ran down to the base before pulling up and sucking at the head while his hand worked over the rest. “Fuck- just like that, sweetheart,” Phil sighed, his hand tightening in Dan’s messy hair as the boy gazed imploringly up at him and pulled back, opening his mouth and running his tongue over the underside of the head before moving to the slit, licking though it and kissing at it.

 The teasing didn’t last long though, and soon Dan was back into a rhythm, sucking Phil’s cock and moving swiftly up and down, one hand on his shaft and the other tugging gently at his balls. “Ahh.. shit! You want it in your mouth, Babyboy?”, Phil asked, now getting close. Dan nodded as best he could around the cock in his mouth and sped up his efforts, muffled moans escaping his otherwise occupied mouth.

 Phil swore, thrusting gently up into Dan’s mouth and holding his head down, letting the constricting of the boys throat and his stilted gagging sounds push him over the edge. “Fuck, Dan…”

 Cum ran down from the corners of Dan’s mouth and his chin, and Phil pulled, out, watching as the boy licked his lips before gathering what was left with his finger and sucking it clean. The man smirked. “You gotta clean Daddy up too,” Phil ordered. Dan moaned, leaning forward and gently taking Phil’s cock back into his mouth, licking him clean before pulling back and pulling the man’s pants back up, looking up at him expectantly when he was done.

 “Such a good boy, Dan,” Phil praised, petting over his head and leaning forward to kiss him. When they parted, Phil urged Dan up onto the couch and maneuvered him into a lying position with his legs spread, pulling his bottoms off and tossing them aside. Dan gazed up at him and blushed at how exposed he felt, “What are you gonna do, Daddy?”, he asked, trying to close his legs slightly and moaning in arousal when Phil grabbed his knees and forced them back apart. “None of that now,” he chided, gripping Dan’s hard cock, “You know this is mine.” “I know, Daddy, please…”, Dan whined.

 “I’m gonna make you cum, ok, Baby?”, Phil asked, stroking the boy. “Yeah.. please..”, Dan begged, arching into Phil’s touch. The man leaned down, pushing Dan’s legs farther up and apart, before licking a stripe from his hole up to his balls and then bak down again, laving over it and sucking. “Ahhh! Daddy!”, Dan moaned, squirming on the sofa, his hands coming down to grip Phil’s hair.

 The hand on Dan’s cock sped up and he wondered briefly why Phil was getting him off so quickly when he usually made him beg, but the thought was soon lost in the jumble of moans and pleas spilling from his parted lips. Phil brought on hand to his spit slicked hole and thrust a finger gently inside, curling it upward and watching as Dan’s leg twitched and he whimpered.

 “Yeah, you like that. You’re my little slut. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”, Phil taunted, laughing as Dan moaned, “Yeah, Daddy… anything..” Phil brought the hand on Dan’s dick up a bit to the head, running his thumb through the slit and cocking the fingers in his ass up towards his spot, nodding in approval when Dan yelped in surprise and pleasure at the feeling of the man’s finger rubbing relentlessly over it. “Mmmn- Daddy! ‘m gonna cum!”, Dan warned, his hips jerking into Phil’s busy hands. “Good boy, that’s it, cum on my fingers,” Phil prodded.

 Dan whined, cumming loudly and panting. Phil gently moved his hand from the boy’s dick, rubbing his thigh soothingly as he relaxed into the sofa, “Good boy.” Dan clenched around the fingers still in his ass and winced slightly, whining, “Daddy… what are you doing?” Phil laughed. “Well I said I was going to make you cum, I didn’t say that was all I’m gonna do.”

 The boy’s eyes widened a bit and he shot Phil a questioning look, pouting when the man just smirked and nodded. He knew what that meant. And, he was right because just as he figured it out, Phil started moving his fingers again, rubbing up against his prostate. “Ahhh!! Too much, Daddy… Please..?”, he pleaded, the pleasure being almost unbearable, bordering on pain.

 “Come on, Dan. I know you can take it. Don’t you want to be a good boy?”, Phil teased, now bringing his hand up to Dan’s half softened dick, rubbing over the head. Dan squirmed and whimpered, but otherwise laid there and took the blinding pleasure, letting out a high pitched moan when Phil leaned down and took his dick into his mouth.

 It didn’t take very long for Dan to be fully hard again and Phil pulled back from his dick, concentrating instead on the fingers in his ass, rubbing the relentlessly over Dan’s spot. “Oh fuck! Please.. please, Daddy? Stop…”, he begged, but it wasn’t their safe word so phil just went harder. Dan’s back arched and his knees drew almost completely together but Phil just yanked them back apart. “Take it, baby. Good boy.” Dan panted, clenching around Phil’s fingers and writhing. “Does it hurt so good, baby?”, Phil asked teasingly, laughing when Dan whimpered and nodded.

   After a few minutes of this, Dan was nearing the edge, his stomach clenching and his legs shaking. “Ahh- ‘m close…”, he warned, his hips wiggling with the rhythm of Phil’s harsh stroking. Phil smiled and laughed a little, gently pulling his fingers out and and leaning back. Dan looked up at him in bewilderment, close to tears, “Daddy, what are you doing?”, he asked, bringing a hand down to his own cock to fist needy at the head. “Ah ah ah, you know better than that baby boy,” Phil chastised, gently pulling Dan’s hand away, “I’ll let you cum later if you’re a good boy.”

 Dan whined, his eyes watering in frustration, “Please, Daddy? I’ll be good, I promise!”, he begged. Phil guided Dan into a sitting position and shook his head, gripping the boy’s jaw and kissing him. “You’re going to be good anyway if you want to cum later,” he warned, giving Dan’s cock a few gentle tugs and stopping to rub at the slit before pulling the boy’s pants up and standing, offering him a hand. “Ok, Daddy,” the boy pouted, taking it and standing, following after Phil like a lost puppy. Phil chuckled. “Let’s have some breakfast, ok, baby?”